Chapter 22: Hot Air

Chapter 22: Chapter 22: Hot Air

"Okay," Jared said. "New plan."

He stood in the middle of the scorched yard and rolled his shoulders.

’Not now. Later.’

"System. I want to focus on what I can do as a beast master. Without the beast. Just me."

[Oh, now he’s curious.]

"How does it work?"

[It’s basically the same gestures. Same focus. Same process. The only difference is who receives the command. Rather than giving it to the beast, you give it to yourself.]

Jared frowned. "Give it to myself?"

[Order your own body. Tell it to produce the effect. The bond does the rest.]

"That’s... vague."

He had already sent the Ground Dragon back into her gem to save mana. He took a few steps away from the rubble, stood in the middle of the ring, and tried to think. What was the simplest thing he could do? What was the most basic effect he had seen?

’Flame. Start with flame. Just a little.’

He took a deep breath, planted his feet, tilted his head back, and opened his mouth wide.

Nothing happened.

He tried again, this time pushing air out of his lungs in a long, hard exhale.

"HHHAAAAAAAH."

A thin cloud of breath drifted out of his mouth and dissolved. No spark. No heat. Not even a tickle.

[That was breath.]

"I know it was breath."

[That was very much breath. A lot of effort for a medium amount of nothing.]

"I’m warming up."

[You’re warming up like a kettle with a cracked lid.]

He tried again. This time he squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his fists, and made a deep, guttural sound in the back of his throat.

"GRRRRRRRHHHHH."

[Oh, wow. That’s a noise. Would you like to be a bear?]

"Shut up."

[I’m just asking. I didn’t know we were role playing.]

"GRAAAAHHHH!"

[Now you’re a bear with a head cold.]

[That is the worst dragon impression I have ever heard. And I’ve heard dragons who can’t fly.]

Jared wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared at the sky. He had started to sweat. His throat felt raw.

"Must it be my mouth, though?" he demanded.

The system paused.

[Not necessarily.]

"Then why have I been doing it for 10 minutes?"

[Because you didn’t ask.]

"That’s a ridiculous answer."

[It would just be easier. That’s where your beast generates its attack from. The mouth is the natural channel.]

"So I could use my hands?"

[You could use your elbow, for all I care. It would just be harder.]

"That’s not helpful."

[It’s very helpful. You just don’t like it.]

He sighed and stood up straight. His mind went blank. He had no idea what else to try. He knew the mouth was the obvious path, but it hadn’t worked. He needed something different. A change of approach.

He tilted his head back again, closed his eyes, and breathed in.

A long, slow, deep breath, in through the nose.

Then out, through the mouth.

In. Out.

In. Out.

[Are you for real?]

Jared kept breathing.

[Are you honestly doing this?]

"I’m centering myself."

[You’re what?]

"I’m trying a spiritual approach."

[A spiritual approach.]

"It’s a spiritual relationship, right? Between me and the beast. That’s what Zoey said. So maybe I need to feel it. Meditation and the soul, ever heard of it?"

[I cannot tell if you’re kidding.]

"I’m not."

[You’re breathing like a man in a yoga class who’s lost his mat.]

He ignored it. In. Out. He pictured a warm glow in his chest.He opened his mouth and exhaled gently.

A soft puff of air drifted out. It smelled faintly of bread.111

Jared opened his eyes, defeated.

"This isn’t working."

[It’s funny, though.]

He dropped to the dirt, cross legged, and pressed his palms against his face. It had been over an hour since the incident with the lizard. His throat hurt. His head hurt. He was tired and a little sad and very, very irritated.

’Okay. Think. If I can’t figure it out from the inside, I’ll figure it out from the outside.’

He lowered his hands.

"I need to see it," he said.

[See what?]

"How she does it."

He pulled the red gem from his pouch and dropped it on the ground. A flash of heat, a rush of light, and the Ground Dragon rose from the glow, shaking her scales. She gave him a patient, low rumble.

"Hey, girl," he said. "I need your help."

She lowered her head. He walked up to her, took a breath, and climbed onto an overturned crate so he could reach her snout.

"Open wide."

She hesitated.

"Please."

The dragon opened her jaws.

A warm wind rolled out, smelling of ash and iron. Jared leaned close, so close his nose almost touched her teeth, and peered into the dark cavern of her mouth. A faint orange glow flickered at the very back of her throat, like coals in a forge.

’Okay. Okay. Don’t think about the smell.’

"Now," he whispered. "I want you to prepare to fire. But don’t actually fire. Just get ready."

The dragon’s throat began to glow brighter. A low rumble built in her chest. Jared stayed absolutely still, watching, heart pounding. He wanted to see how the fire emerged. What came first. What moved. What pushed it out.

’Come on. Show me.’

The glow deepened. A ripple ran down her neck. Her tongue twitched, flattened, and fire emerged from within slowly.

Jared stared.

’That’s...’

The picture wasn’t beautiful. It was a lumpy, wet, muscular contraction, a lurch and a heave, the tongue curling back like a drawbridge, the whole throat tightening. It looked, honestly, like a very large animal about to be sick.

"That’s it?" he whispered.

[What’s it?]

"It looks like she’s throwing up."

[A dignified description.]

"That’s what fire is? Controlled vomiting?"

[Tell yourself whatever helps.]

He leaned back, rubbing his forehead.

"I can’t believe it’s that of all things."

The dragon closed her mouth, looking faintly offended, and let the glow fade. He patted her snout apologetically.

’Okay. Okay. It’s not what I wanted. But it’s information. I can work with this. ’

He took a deep breath, sighed, and hoped for the best.

"Fine," he muttered. "Fine. I’ll do it."

He stood in the middle of the yard. He faced away from the dragon. He tilted his head back. And then, with a deep, wounded sigh, he shoved two fingers into his own mouth, reached toward the back of his throat, and tried to make himself gag.

[Rex.]

"Mmf?"

[What are you doing?]

"Mmmff mmf."

[Never mind. Please continue.]

He gagged. His eyes watered. His stomach lurched. Something rose in his throat, cold and sharp and tingling, and before he could stop it, a rush of freezing air burst out of his mouth.

A white spray shot across the yard.

It wasn’t flame. It was ice. A sharp, glittering jet of frost, hissing as it hit the dirt, spreading in a spiky pattern across the ground. It arced straight toward the Ground Dragon.

The dragon reacted instantly.

Her head snapped around. Her throat flared. A roaring column of fire blasted out of her jaws and slammed into the stream of ice, meeting it halfway.

Steam exploded across the yard. The two attacks collided in a hissing cloud of mist, then evaporated into theqqq air.

Jared stood there, coughing.

He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. His lips tingled with cold. A faint glitter of frost clung to his chin.

"Ice," he said slowly.

[Ice.]

"I made ice."

[You did.]

"So attempting to vomit yields ice now." He stared at his hands, then grinned, huge and delighted. "I did it. I actually did it. I fired something."

[Congratulations.]

"This is amazing."

[It really is.]

"I might be something of a genius."

[Don’t flatter yourself]

[You’re not seeing the bigger picture.]

His grin faltered.

"What?"

[I said you’re missing the bigger picture.]

"I don’t get it."

[Obviously.]

[Rather than celebrating the fact you can now fire a little ice breath, how about thinking about what just happened to your Ground Dragon?]

Jared blinked. He turned slowly.

The dragon was standing a few paces away, her chest still heaving, smoke curling from her nostrils. Her eyes were fixed on him. Her head was lowered slightly. The embers in her throat hadn’t fully died.

"What about her?" he asked.

[She attacked.]

"She was defending herself."

[Did you tell her to?]

"I didn’t..."

[Did you say a word? Give an order? Think about it. ]

Jared’s mouth went dry.

"No," he whispered.

[Exactly. She attacked without your say so. On her own. The moment she sensed a threat, she fired.]

"But it was just ice. It was my own..."

[It was ice. Yes but she didn’t wait to find out whether it was an attack or non lethal.]

The words hit him slowly, one at a time. His stomach dropped.

"Oh," Jared said.

It was a big deal. A very big deal. He had a large creature, an SSS rank beast capable of melting stone, standing few feet from him, and it had just acted without any command from him. The bond between them was barely a leash. It was a thread. And the thread had slipped.

He swallowed.

Slowly, carefully, he walked up to the dragon and laid a hand against her snout. She went still under his touch. Her scales were warm, rough, familiar. He stroked her gently, murmuring something soft and meaningless. She exhaled a low, rumbling breath that ruffled his hair.

But his hand was trembling.

He couldn’t hide it. He could feel it all the way up his arm. He was afraid of her. He had never realized it until now. Not afraid that she would hurt him. Afraid that she could, and he wouldn’t be able to stop it.

"What do I do?" he asked quietly.

For once, it didn’t mock. Its voice was soft, almost kind.

[You keep training.]

"That’s it?"

[Until you find the cause, and tame it. You are a beast master, after all.]