‘You mean, like the engine?’ I asked, slipping on my Oculator’s Lenses.
Draulin nodded. ‘Try deactivating the boots like you would Lenses.’
I did so, touching them. Surprisingly, the sand and glass dropped free, the boots becoming inert.
‘Those boots had been given a silimatic charge,’ Australia explained. ‘Kind of like batteries you use in the Hushlands. The boots will run out eventually. Until then, an Oculator can turn them off and on.’
‘One of the great mysteries of our age,’ Draulin said, her boots replaced. The way she said it indicated that she really didn’t care how or why things worked, only that they did.
Me, I was more curious. I’d been told several times about Free Kingdomer technology. It seemed a simple distinction to me. Magic was that sort of thing that only worked for certain people, while technology – often called silimatics – worked for anyone. Australia had been able to fly the Dragonaut, but so had Kaz. It was technology.
But what I had just learned seemed to indicate that there was a relationship between this technology of theirs and Oculatory powers. However, the conversation reminded me of something else. I didn’t have any idea if we were closer to Alexandria now than we had been before, but it seemed a good idea to try contacting my grandfather again.
I slipped on the Courier’s Lenses and concentrated. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get anything out of them. I left them on just in case, then stuffed the Grappler’s Glass boots into one of the packs.
I slung it over my shoulder; however, Bastille took it from me. I shot her a frown.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘My mother’s orders.’
‘You don’t need to carry anything, Lord Smedry,’ Draulin said, hefting another pack. ‘Let Squire Bastille do it.’
‘I can carry my own pack, Draulin,’ I snapped.
‘Oh?’ she asked. ‘And if we get attacked, do you not need to be ready and agile so that you can use your Lenses to defend us?’ She turned away from me. ‘Squire Bastille is good at carrying things. Allow her to do this – it will let her be useful and make her feel a sense of accomplishment.’
Bastille flushed. I opened my mouth to argue some more, but Bastille shot me a glance that quieted me.
Fine, I thought. We all looked toward Kaz, ready to go. ‘Onward then!’ the short man said, taking off across the sand up toward the trees.
6
Adults are not idiots.
Often, in books such as this one, the opposite impression is given. Adults in these stories will either (a) get captured, (b) disappear conspicuously when there is trouble, or (c) refuse to help.
(I’m not sure what authors have against adults, but everyone seems to hate them to an extent usually reserved for dogs and mothers. Why else make them out to be such idiots? ‘Ah, look, the dark lord of evil has come to attack the castle! Annnnd, there’s my lunch break. Have fun saving the world on your own, kids! ‘)
In the real world, adults tend to get involved in everything, whether you want them to or not. They won’t disappear when the dark lord appears, though they may try to sue him. This discrepancy is yet another proof that most books are fantasies while this book is utterly true and invaluable. You see, in this book, I will make it completely clear that all adults are not idiots.
They are, however, hairy.
Adults are like hairy kids who like to tell others what to do. Despite what other books may claim, they do have their uses. They can reach things on high shelves, for instance. (Though, Kaz would argue that such high shelves shouldn’t be necessary. Reference Reason number sixty-three, which will be explained at a later point.)
Regardless, I often wish that the two groups – adults and kids – could find a way to get along better. Some sort of treaty or something. The biggest problem is, the adults have one of the most effective recruitment strategies in the world.
Give them enough time, and they’ll turn any kid into one of them.
We entered the jungle.
‘Everyone remember to stay in sight of someone else in the group,’ Kaz said. ‘There’s no telling where we’ll leave you if you get separated!’
With that, Kaz pulled out a machete and began to cut his way through the undergrowth. I glanced back at the beach, bidding silent farewell to the translucent dragon, cracked from landing, its body slowly being buried in the sand from the rising tide. One wing still hung up in the air, as if in defiance of its death.
‘You were the most majestic thing I’d ever seen,’ I whispered. ‘Rest well.’ A little melodramatic, true, but it felt appropriate. Then I quickly rushed after the others, careful not to lose sight of Draulin, who walked in the rear.
The jungle was thick, and the canopy overhead made the darkness near absolute. Draulin pulled an antiquated-looking lantern from her pack, then tapped it with one finger. It started to glow, the flame coming to life without needing a match. Even with it, however, it felt creepy to be traveling through a dense jungle in the middle of the night.
In order to still my nerves, I moved to walk by Bastille. She, however, didn’t want to talk. I eventually worked my way up through the column until I was behind Kaz. I figured that he and I had started off on the wrong foot, and I hoped I could patch things up a bit.