The Lost Knight (Volume I)

Chapter 11: Six Foot Hummingbird

"How much longer until we get to the boat?" I ask after several more hours of walking. I wish the light would change. The sun and moons haven't moved, but I've been on my feet for the better part of a day.

"We have another day's travel," Jonah answers. "We will go a little farther and then rest for the night."

When we finally stop, my chewed-up feet are raw, my legs are throbbing and my back is killing me. I limp to a tree and flop down. I swear, I'll never walk again. I spot Dathid looking at me with concern, but he doesn't say anything.

"Agatha, please call Lenox," Jonah reminds me.

I whistle for him. He circles with a giant bird in his talons and drops it in front of Dathid. Then he heads my way and I jump up, afraid he might land on me. Instead, he gently puts his back feet down and gracefully lowers his front feet. When he tucks his wings in, Jonah walks over to remove the packs from his back.

I plop down against a tree and take off my shoes. I don't want to look at my beat-up feet so I turn my attention to Dathid, who is unsheathing his sword and heading toward a cluster of trees. "I need some dead branches."

The noise the trees have been making all day abruptly stops, and the forest grows eerily silent. The thick pine shakes its boughs but doesn't drop any branches.

Dathid lifts his sword. "I'll only ask one more time, and then I'll take what I want."

He didn't ask the first time, but I won't say anything. He's an angry man. I know he wouldn't appreciate my interference, especially if I sided with the tree. I don't know why he's with us, but I wish he would've stayed in Manahata.

The tree makes a loud cracking groan, and he jumps out of the way when several sizable branches nearly fall on his head. He sneers at the tree branches, then at the tree and then smiles menacingly. "Smaller pieces, please."

The branches on the ground split apart.

"Trees! Bad attitudes, every one of them," he mutters to himself as he gathers the wood. "Especially you pines."

The tree shakes again but doesn't say anything as Dathid walks away. I'm guessing that pine trees don't talk because they haven't said or sung anything since we left Manahata.

Jonah makes a fire while Dathid cleans the bird. I'm definitely not hungry after watching him drive a spike through its mouth in order to hang it over the fire.

"Agatha, wake up. You must eat," Jonah says.

I open my eyes, startled that I fell asleep. Dathid's holding a large turkey leg in front of my face. I sit up and grab the meat. I take a bite and then remember that I'm not eating turkey. I pause mid-bite and pull the leg away.

"You don't like it?" Jonah asks.

"What is it?"

"Pteranodon."

"Isn't that a dinosaur?"

Jonah looks at Dathid, but he just shrugs. Jonah turns back to me and makes the same gesture.

"Never mind." I'm too tired to argue. It couldn't be the same thing, because dinosaurs are lizards, and whatever this was, it had feathers. I take a bite, not caring what I'm eating. It's delicious. I take the other leg and eat that one too. "What time is it?"

"We don't have time here," Dathid answers.

"Of course you don't."

"Lenox needs to sleep with you," Jonah says.

"What?" He can't possibly think I'll sleep with an animal.

"Tell Lenox to come sleep with you."

"No, that's okay. I'm good. I really don't want to sleep with a big, dirty horse-bat. That giant pegasus would definitely crush me if I sleep next to him."

"Do you have to argue with me about everything? Just tell him."

"Fine. Lenox, please come here and sleep with me."

Lenox finished his dinner a while ago and is milling around the trees, chasing bugs. At the sound of my voice, he trots over, lies down in a ball like a cat and lifts his wing in invitation. Jonah motions for me to go.

"Okay. I get it," I whisper to Lenox. "I'm not real sure about this. Be careful you don't roll over and squash me."

I cautiously sit down next to him and put my back against his side. Once I'm settled, Lenox lowers his wing. It covers most of me. I have to wiggle around until my head and shoulders are out. I lie back against his warm, soft side and am surprisingly snuggy. I rise and fall with his breathing. This must be what being comforted feels like. It's nice.

Lenox swings his head around and roughly smells me.

"Okay, okay." I giggle and raise my hands to push him away. "It's rude to blow your nose in someone's hair."

I pet his muzzle. He lets out a big sigh and puts his head down. The forest is quiet except for Dathid, who is cleaning up our little encampment. I admit he's got a great face; it's so impossibly symmetrical that if I painted him I would have to add flaws to make him look real. It's just a shame his attitude stinks.

Jonah walks over and looks at him with wide, sad eyes. Dathid stops packing the saddlebag and stands. "This detour is more than I bargained for. I wish we could've just gone straight there. I'm not sure how much more I can take."

"You seem to be holding up well."

"I'm not. I can't do this. Maybe I should head back."

Please, please, please go back. My prayers have been answered.

Jonah slaps a hand on Dathid's shoulder. "No, this is important. Your village needs you. Agatha needs you. I will be by your side."

Dathid sighs and goes back to packing the bag. He nods his head toward me. "Which one of us has it worse?" He chuckles to himself like he just said something funny.

"She's holding up better than you," Jonah says with a smile. "Give her some time. She's been through a lot, and it's only going to get more awful from here."

Dathid sighs. "I am not cut out for this."

It's Jonah's turn to chuckle. "You need more patience."

"Okay, more patience. More understanding. More selflessness. More scars," Dathid mumbles as he walks off to find his bed.

My throat burns from swallowing my tears. I'm doing the best I can. My life on Earth was always the same: school, home, school, home. I spoke with very few people and, for the most part, I was left to myself. It's unfair to be thrown into this situation and then judged for how badly I'm reacting to it. Jonah is the closest thing I've ever had to a friend, and I hope that Dathid doesn't mess that up.

I'm deep in my self-pity while Dathid finishes the chores and unfurls his wings. It takes me by surprise because I forgot he's a faerie. His wings are beautiful like dragonfly wings, long and thin, and each is at least three feet long. They have a dark bluish-black hue that glistens when they move. He flutters them incredibly fast until they're a blur, then gently lifts himself off the ground and flies up into the tree.

My fourth-grade teacher kept a hummingbird feeder outside our classroom window. That probably wasn't the best idea because the birds were noisy and distracting; the hum of their wings was so loud we could hear it even if the window was closed. We'd all run over and watch them eat. Dathid's wings make almost the same noise. I'm surprised his aren't louder. He's over six feet tall, and what's a hummingbird, like six inches?

It's strange that he chose to sleep there. I yawn. Where did Jonah go? I giggle when I picture him sleeping under Lenox.