Radiance (Riley Bloom #1)(33)

All of which means we weren’t even supposed to be at Warmington Castle in the first place.

Apparently there was an entirely different ghost all picked out and ready for me to, er, coax and convince its way to the bridge.

But, as Bodhi pointed out, as soon as he laid eyes on me, as soon as I took one look at him and deemed him dorky guy, well that’s when he knew I could handle the Radiant Boy—or Boys, as it turned out.

And if, in the end, I couldn’t, he figured I’d have the perfect opportunity to help myself to a nice big slice of the humble pie he claimed I so sorely deserved.

So yeah, maybe we were both feeling a little happy with ourselves.

A little “chuffed” as they say in jolly old England.

But why wouldn’t we?

We’d just accomplished what those in charge, namely the members of the Council, were pretty much sure that we couldn’t.

We’d both greatly succeeded, where a whole host of others had failed.

And all we were left with was the deceptively simple task of getting my sweet yellow Lab off the ground so we could go celebrate our mutual success in London.

But the thing about Buttercup is, no matter how cute and sweet and well behaved he might be, he’s also kind of a wuss (as evidenced by the way he ran from the Radiant Boy, leaving me alone to defend myself).

Not to mention how he’s kind of lazy too.

Because when Bodhi had the (what I thought at the time to be brilliant) idea of tossing his favorite brand of dog biscuits into the air in an attempt to convince him to soar after them, Buttercup just licked his chops, closed his eyes, and manifested his own pile of dog biscuits without so much as moving an inch.

So after several test runs of me soaring around the garden, buzzing my way through the maze with my hair streaming behind me and the wind howling at my cheeks, as Buttercup chased underneath me, barking and tail wagging like crazy—I realized something else about Buttercup.

He’s domesticated.

A bona fide companion animal.

And what he hates more than anything in the world is to be left on his own for too long.

So when I called for Bodhi to join me, urging him to soar alongside me as we headed straight toward London without once looking back, to commit so fully to the mission that Buttercup would think we were never planning to return—he agreed.

Our reasoning being that there was only one way for him to join us on our trip, and that was for him to fly right alongside us.

There would be no carrying allowed.

So, we took off.

Both of us getting a good running start (not because it was necessary, but because it was fun).

Both of us flying side by side and doing our best not to look down as Buttercup chased along underneath us, sure it was some kind of game.

Both of us fully resolved to keep going, to not take a single look back, long after we’d flown over the large perimeter wall that for some strange reason stopped poor Buttercup right there in his tracks, until, just like me facing the Radiant Boys at their scariest, he realized his fear was all in his head and he ran through that too.

Both of us committed to just keep on keeping on—to not cave in to Buttercup’s awful, unceasing, continuous series of forlorn whining, howling, and yelps as he chased underneath us. So sure he’d been dealt a cruel hand of fate, that he’d been permanently and completely abandoned to the ground.

Both of us waiting, hoping for Buttercup’s desire to finally kick in just enough to where he’d be magically boosted and propelled right alongside us.

And just when I was sure I couldn’t take it anymore, just as I was about to break my own promise and swoop down toward my poor frantic dog and scoop him into my arms—

I saw him.

Ears pinned close to his head as his tail wagged like crazy. Causing him to swoop and swerve and even dive-bomb a few times in a way that truly sent my insides spinning, until he figured it out, got ahold of himself, and learned to use it as a rudder, steering him along, and keeping him on course, until he was fully caught up and soaring right there alongside us, as though he’d been doing it for days.

And even though I couldn’t listen in on his thoughts or read what might’ve been going on in his mind, his expression was all I needed to know that he loved every last second of it.

Loved it more than a warm patch of sun, a bowl full of biscuits, and an extra long car ride with all the windows rolled down.

Loved it more than all of those things combined.

Buttercup had found a new favorite pastime.

And he took to it as naturally and gracefully as a bird.





23


We soared through white, fluffy, mist-laden clouds.

We soared over snowy mountaintops and buildings and rivers and lakes.

We soared past large flocks of birds that Buttercup barked at and chased after, determined to get ahold of one and bring it back proudly as some kind of trophy in the way that he often did when he was alive. Each time glancing back at Bodhi and me in complete and utter confusion, when instead of capturing one of them, he flew directly through them.

And the moment we got to London, I knew.

Bodhi didn’t have to tell me, didn’t have to say a single word.

I just took one look at that wide winding river dotted with bridges and ships and lined with tall buildings, and I recognized it for exactly what it was.

The River Thames, the Westminster Bridge, Big Ben—we flew over it all. We even swooped in really, really close to the topmost capsule on the London Eye, which, in case you don’t know, is pretty much the earth plane’s coolest Ferris wheel, then we swooped down toward the bottom and back up again, trailing it carefully as it went around and around in the sky.