Now, even more than usual, he felt like a whale trying to school with minnows. His sword-callused fingers dwarfed the delicate candies. He might as well have tried to manipulate individual grains of sand in his claws.
When he finally managed to get three candies correctly placed and aligned, John felt as elated as the first time he’d bested a colossal squid. Unfortunately, swept up by his triumph, he slightly misjudged the amount of force required to close the box’s lid.
Again.
Chase flicked squashed chocolate off the sleeve of his suit. “I don’t mean to insult John’s sensitive honor, but is there nothing else he could do?”
Griff sighed. “John, you really don’t have to-”
“I cannot leave my comrades-in-arms to face a foe unaided, oath-brother.” He looked down at the sad little pile of crumpled cardboard. “No matter how…singularly unsuited I may be to this particular fight.”
Chase’s expression brightened in a way that signaled that the pegasus shifter had just been struck by an absolutely terrible idea. “You just said that your first loyalty always has to be to the Pearl Throne, right?”
“Yes,” John said, cautiously. He had learned to be deeply wary when Chase adopted that particular innocent look.
“And the whole reason you came out of the sea in the first place was to search for your missing sea dragon king, right?”
Why did humans have to be so imprecis
e? “If you are referring to the Pearl Emperor, King of Atlantis, Ruler over all Shifters of the Sea, Commander of Waves and-“
“Yes, yes, him.” Chase cut off the list of titles with a maddeningly discourteous flip of his hand. “Anyway, you’re supposed to be searching Britain for him, aren’t you? Going off and questioning all the major rivers and lakes and stuff?”
“When I am not otherwise occupied using my skills to assist in the fight against fire and flame, yes.” Not for the first time, John was completely mystified by the currents of the pegasus shifter’s thoughts. “How is this relevant?”
Chase gestured in the direction of the window, at the dark waters of the wide lake beyond. “Well, have you searched here yet?”
Even through the intervening layer of glass, John could still hear the water calling to him, a siren song promising freedom and space. To swim, to stretch into his true form, unbounded by walls or gravity…he longed for it so fiercely that his first instinct was to deny Chase’s argument, purely on the grounds that to agree would be to indulge his own desires.
But still…
“My vow as Seeker takes precedence over my duty to my oath-brother, it is true,” he said, slowly. “And this part of Britain is new to me. I had thought to pursue my quest tomorrow, after the mating ceremony. But if I truly cannot be of service with the current task…”
“Oh, no, you should definitely go now,” Chase said. His expression was solemn, but the wicked glint in his eyes betrayed some hidden amusement. “Go on. Go for a swim. A nice long swim.”
Griff stared at Chase in dawning comprehension. “Oh no. No, no, no.”
John looked at Griff in concern. “Is there some problem with that of which I am not aware?”
“No problem,” Hugh said, a slow smirk spreading across his own face. “Absolutely no problem at all. In fact, I can’t think of a more appropriate place for you to go for a dip.”
John couldn’t help casting a wistful look out at the tranquil waters. “It does indeed seem to be a most inviting and hospitable lake. And I must admit, I have been feeling somewhat stifled, this far from the ocean.”
Griff buried his face in his hands. “You want to go for a swim. In sea dragon form. In Loch Ness.”
Chase and Hugh were both tight-lipped and shaking with repressed laughter. Griff raised his head in order to shoot the pair a dirty glare, which only appeared to increase their mirth.
Even for humans, this was most peculiar behavior.
“Am I missing something?” John asked.
“Never mind,” Griff said to him with a resigned sigh. “Go on, then. Just for God’s sake, don’t let anyone see you.”
Peals of laughter followed John out, undercut by Griff’s muttered curses. John closed the door behind him, shaking his head.
“Humans,” he said out loud, to the uncaring clouds and the unconcerned waters below. “I shall never understand them.”
Neither the clouds nor the lake answered, not that he had expected them to. Water did not listen to the graceless human tongue.