Chapter 18: The Aloe

"I didn't mean it, you know." "Certainly not, Sir,” said Jeffrey, trailing slightly behind, but mostly beside, McKale as he tramped down the streets of Star City. Stiff upper lip and all, Jeffrey wasn't budging. Wouldn't accept a single apology of any sort McKale to muster up the courage to blurt out. It wasn't as if he had any real right to be angry with him! Jeffrey was just a valet. McKale frowned, pressing his lips together,” I mean, I don't condone your affections for me, but, really, you are more than a valet. After all, you've been working for me for...how many years, Jeffrey?" "Eight, sir." "Eight, yes. Rather long time to be living with someone and not developing some feelings of friendship, what?" "If you believe so, sir." McKale resisted the urge to grind his teeth (ungentlemanly behavior, after all, he certainly couldn't go about doing that in public), and increased pace tenfold to surge down the glowing, metallic corridors. Honestly! McKale had forgiven him for doing what he did, he could certainly buck up the old sympathy and do the same for his employer. Jeffrey had the gall to go about flower giving, an already disapproved activity, while he (or rather she, at the time) was otherwise engaged! Hardly forgivable behavior, but McKale had managed to push down the ego and do it anyway. Even forgave him from inviting two boisterous young what-nots into his house. How hard was it to give a pip-pip and acknowledge the fact that it was simply a slip of the tongue during heated debate? Honestly! McKale felt something warm and strong curling around his elbow and paused, mid-step and swing of his cane. He jerked his head around, grinning,” Jeffrey?" But Jeffrey didn't look any more forgiving than he had moments earlier. "We appear to be at the DRM, Sir,” he let go of McKale's arm and pointed toward a building on their left. McKale held back a sigh and nodded his head, allowing himself to be led inside the office. "Draconic Ministry Relations!" a bubbly voice greeted them,” How can I help you?" McKale bit his lip and glanced back at Jeffrey. The man was stoic, resolute, unmoving. Hard as stone. McKale stepped up to the front desk, nibbling the inside of his cheek (what a horrid first impression he was making!), and finally gave in. He cleared his throat and spoke,” Good evening miss, I would be most thankful if you could supply me with some information about bonding dragons?" "Oh, certainly sir!" said the girl, ducking beneath the counter to produce a booklet of sorts,” Currently we only have one clutch available for bonding,” she flipped open the tome and pushed it across the desk toward McKale. McKale stroked his chin (stubbly, but lacking his usual goatee) and nodded at the picture. Cute little blighter, although not really his imprinted image of a dragon. Of course, Shar wasn't much of a tradition dragon either, was he? What with eight legs and all. "And what sort of responsibilities does bonding entail?" "Quite a few, sir. It's much more work that simply acquiring a pet, although once they reach adulthood, most dragons are fairly proficient at taking care of themselves. As hatchlings, though, they're much like children." Children. McKale had always been good with children. In fact, he had a pair of wonderful nephews he got along with quite well. Wonderful little chaps, when they weren't screaming their heads of for candy or other such rubbish. "What sort of bl- I'm sorry, persons would you not recommend bonding to?" "It's not really my place to say, but most people do very well at it, despite their level of maturity. In fact, not long ago we had an infant bond a dragon. The younger the better, in some cases. It's not really like having children, more like...acquiring a life long partner of sorts. The ones that aren't meant for bonding, quite frankly, don't do it. Or their dragons are confiscated and returned to Star City or the Destiny in order to be re-adopted." Confiscated? That certainly didn't sound very pleasant. "Does this confiscation thing happen often?" "Oh goodness no. Thankfully. Once in a while, but it's not a regular occurrence. You seem to be thinking very seriously about bonding, sir." McKale tapped his chin and grinned,” I am indeed, miss, I am indeed. Although I have had several complaints to parties I am most fond of..." "Happens all the time,” the girl smiled. "Well, in that case, I think I'd like to do it." "Very good, sir. I'm sure the lucky hatchling will be quite happy about your decision,” she turned to her computer and tapped a few keys,” You’ll just need to fill out some information, and we'll have you registered." McKale smiled chivalrously and leaned across the counter. The information was quickly exchanged, and with a click of a button, McKale was register. He smoothed down his jacket, brushing off particles of dust, and turned to Jeffrey. Only, Jeffrey was no longer there. McKale gaped, and upon remembering he was not in a crowded street or the privacy of his own home, promptly clicked his jaw shut again. He shot the woman a 'thank-you' over his shoulder and stormed out of the building. Well! He thought. I never! .:.:.::.:.:. Something was wrong. Jeffrey wasn't entirely sure of what, but he could sense that it was, at the very least, something that involved Shar and Cy. He couldn't be sure how he understood this, but he immediately assumed it had something to do with Shar's unusual powers. It was a ubiquitous feeling that engulfed his mind, purging all others thoughts from his system. As soon as it overcame him he fled from the DRM and hurried back toward the apartment. He felt little regret at leaving McKale behind, but could not dwell on the thought. Not even if he wanted to. The feeling of dread took precedence over him...her. Jeffrey raced down the halls and flung open the apartment door, and was immediately greeted by silence. Deep, desolate silence. It impelled him forward, and he sank into the room with a grim look on his face. "Shar?" No answer. "Cyilume?" The silence weighed heavier, and he crept further along the halls. McKale's bedroom door was open. A jolt beat through his heart and caught his breath. He slipped into the room and immediately made his way toward the dresser drawer. It, too, was open. He needn't bother with searching through it, or even turning on the lights for a better look. He understood. Cursing under his breath Jeffrey collapsed against the bed, pressing elbows into thighs and his head into his hands. Absolutely smashing evening, this was turning out to be. He paused, sucking in a deep breath, and rose to his feet. McKale would not be impressed with his behavior, and he would have to...remedy it somehow. The sting of his words still circled the back of his mind, but Shar and Cy were, quite possibly, in some sort of danger. And it was his job, as their bond and sponsor, to take care of them. He would not be able to do anything without McKale's help in this unfortunate instance. He exhaled and wiped sweaty, shaking hands against his pants. Brushing loose strands of hair from his face, he strode out of the room, forcing his legs to steady themselves, and moved into the living room to await the return of McKale. He impelled himself to sit promptly and stiffly, urging his heart to cease its wild mantra against his ribs, and breathed. Across the room, pressed against the wall on a stand that divided the kitchenette from the living room, he spotted the aloe. A pained smile flit across his face, and he buried his head in his hands once again. Despair indeed. .:.:.::.:.:. A flash of light engulfed them; wavering into darkness and bringing them, once again, back into view. They were still in the apartment, and little had changed except for the presence of McKale's personal things, scattered about the room. The lights were off, and no other suitcases or tell-tale belongings were present. A good thing, too, because magically appearing in some poor fellow's bedroom uninvited might have caused some terrible things to happen. Cyilume shivered, blinking luminescent eyes rapidly to clear out the imprint of the flash from her retina. She shook herself and trotted forward, leaping up on the bed and twisting about to grin down at Shar,"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Shar shook his head no. The trip, of course, meant very little. The trip was easy. It was obtaining what he wanted and managing to get back to Jeffrey before his bond became worried or realized they'd left. He would be happy if Shar returned with helpful information, of course, but that happiness would be quashed if he realized Shar and Cy had used the watch. Speed and efficiency would be doubly required on this particular errand. He turned toward the door and swung it open. Cy cocked her head, but followed promptly after him,” Where are we going?" Shar frowned,” I haven't yet decided." But he had to quickly. Where would be the best source of information? It was obvious their little group had left Star City by this time (as if he had expected any differently, he had gone a year into the future, after all), so where might they have gone? Back to earth, no doubt, but the idea of leaving the area perturbed him. As he himself had said, the watch could only bring them through time, not through space. Perhaps there would be records, somewhere, of calls made between apartments. But how would Shar get his hands on that? "What's that look on your face for,"Cy twisted her neck to look up at him, frowning,” And when are we?" "A year into the future." "A year!" she floofed her mane,” That’s hardly anything! Why did we only go a year?" "We're going to help Jeffrey." Cyilume let out a groan,” Is everything about helping Jeffrey?" Shar paused, flicking his feathery ears back a moment before answering,"No,"he said simply,” But if you want him to forgive us, and perhaps allow us to use the watch again, this will have to be about Jeffrey." Besides, Shar enjoyed scheming up ideas on how to rid McKale of her watch and free Jeffrey from the worries of Mr. Wilbur Winquist. They passed through the living room, and something caught Shar's eye. The aloe plant was still there. Apparently forgotten, but assumed to be a rather nice addition to the apartment. Shar scratched his ear and stepped toward it. He glanced down at the watch. Well, they'd have to hide it somewhere. Shrugging to himself, he slipped the object inside the confines of the plant's rubbery leaves and- What was this? His brow furrowed, and he sank his hand deeper into the midst of green. He pulled his goggles out of the dirt. How...interesting. He puffed a breath over the plastic lenses and rubbed them against his fur before snapping them over his eyes. Cy's eyes widened,” Are those-?" Shar nodded. "A year into the future, aye?" He gave a second bob of his head. Cy shook hers,” Wonder how they ended up in the plant,” she wrinkled her nose and moved back toward the door, pawing fruitlessly at the handle,” Well, if we're going to help Jeffrey we ought to make a move on it. Any idea where - Oh!" Cyilume doubled over herself, squeezing her eyes shut and pulling her lips back. She clenched her jaw, hissing in sharp breaths between her teeth. Shar's eyes widened and her hurried to her side,"Cy?" "Oh,"she moaned and collapsed on the floor, curling around herself,” There’s something-" Realization dawned. Death energies! They'd completely forgotten. Cy had been going weeks without consuming any death energies. She couldn't survive like that. Shar growled and pressed a hand to Cy's neck. She shivered violently and let out another string of pained croons. Biting his tongue, Shar scooped her up in his arms and set her on the couch before hurrying toward the door. .:: I’ll be back soon...I'll get you something ::. Cyilume gritted her teeth and sent a telepathic wave of acknowledgement to him. Shar rushed out the door.