Last Dragon Standing (Heartstrikers #5)(88)

“You didn’t waste anything,” he said, leaning down to nuzzle her cheek with his soft nose. “You tried your best, we all did, but it’s not done yet. We’re still alive, and I mean to keep us that way.”

Marci looked up at him. “How?”

She hadn’t meant for the question to come out quite that disbelieving. Fortunately, Julius didn’t look offended. “Because I do have a plan B,” he said. “It was my plan A before everyone shot it down, but I see no reason not to try it now. It’s not like we’ve got anything left to lose.”

That was certainly true, but… “What plan are you talking about?”

He smiled down at her, his green eyes warm. “The one where we talk to Algonquin.”

Marci stared at him for a good ten seconds before her tact ran out. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“Why would I be kidding?” Julius asked, looking genuinely confused. “Algonquin’s always been the heart of this problem. It only makes sense that she’d be the key to getting us out.”

“B-But you can’t be serious,” Marci stuttered. “I know you’ve talked people into some truly crazy stuff, Julius, but Algonquin wouldn’t even listen to her fellow spirits, and she hates dragons. You could make the best case in the world, and she still wouldn’t listen.”

He shrugged. “I’ll never know if I don’t try.”

“She’ll kill you,” Marci snapped.

“She might,” Julius said. “But I won’t be any more dead than I’d be if I stayed here.” He dug his claws into the ground. “We have to do something, Marci.”

“Yeah, something that will work!” she cried. “Something not insane!”

“I don’t think it’s insane,” he said. “Algonquin’s not some evil overlord. She’s just a spirit who’s hurt and upset and doing stupid things because of it. Look at it that way, and she’s not so different from Ghost, and you talked him around.”

“That was different.”

“It wasn’t,” he said firmly. “We’ve always treated Algonquin as our enemy because that’s how she treated us, but we aren’t the root of her problem. Whatever convinced her to surrender to the Leviathan, it was bad enough that she was willing to abandon her fish and give up immortal life. That’s not anger. That’s desperation, and desperate people want to be helped. If we can figure out how to do that, give her a path out of this corner that doesn’t involve the Leviathan, I’ll bet you anything she’ll take it. But we’re never going to find out what that is if we don’t talk to her. Maybe she’ll listen, maybe she’ll kill us all, but if it’s over anyway, we might as well try.” He leaned down, resting the flat of his feathered forehead against hers. “We haven’t lost yet. I trusted you. Trust me.”

Marci sighed. She still thought it was lunacy, but she couldn’t say no to anything when he asked like that. “Okay,” she grumbled. “I’m with you. How do we do this?”

“I have no idea,” Julius said cheerfully. “But I’m pretty sure our first step is ‘get to Algonquin.’”

“Right,” Marci said. “Just get to the spirit who’s inside the monster we can’t even hurt and whose magic will eat us if we do somehow get inside.”

“Maybe not immediately,” Amelia said, tapping her little claws thoughtfully against her chin. “I’ve never actually seen a Nameless End eat a plane. Maybe it takes a while?”

“Great, we can be digested slowly.” Marci glared up at the Leviathan. “I don’t even see how we’d get in to be eaten. That thing’s nothing but shell and eyes, no mouth or ears, no openings of any sort unless you want to crawl up a tentacle with the water.”

“Could we portal inside?” Julius asked, glancing at Amelia. “Your magic is low, but Svena’s should still be fine. Could she get us in?”

The little dragon thought about that for a moment, and then she shook her head. “No. Don’t get me wrong. Princess Snowflake is the best teleportation expert alive. She can get you anywhere in the physical world if she knows where she’s going, but that thing is ninety-nine point nine repeating percent magic. Metaphysically speaking, that makes teleporting into it the same as trying to teleport into another person’s soul, and there’s not a power in the world—dragon or otherwise—who can do that.”

The group fell silent. Marci was wracking her brain for a solution that didn’t leave them all doomed when she heard the crunch of shoes on gravel. Her first thought was Myron, because the step was far too light for Emily’s metal body, but it wasn’t Myron or Emily, or even a human.

It was Bob.

“Please tell me you’re coming over because you’ve just spotted a brilliant way out of this mess,” Amelia said, flapping up to her brother.

“Alas, we’re not there yet,” Bob said, holding out his arm so the little dragon could land on it. “But I might have a solution to your impenetrable Leviathan problem. First, though, you need to talk to General Jackson.”

“Why?” Amelia asked.

“Because she’s about to authorize a nuclear strike.”

Julius’s eyes went wide, and then he was gone, darting across the cavern faster than Marci had known he could go to tackle the general, who was still standing hunched over her makeshift war table.