Page 81 - Folio Only

“I'm perfectly in control. I know exactly what I'm doing.” A thermal from
the surface of the river floomed the angel in a sudden air-geyser, propelling him
upwards some hundred or two hundred feet, then started the spiraling
downwards again. “All right, maybe not.”

“You look in fact,” said the dragon, “like you're in trouble.”

“Yes, I, I think I am.” The futto started to cry. “I can't fly up. My mother
warned me my wings wouldn't be strong enough yet. But I tried anyway. I've
been falling for hours. I'm running out of strength.” More tears.

“It's all right. It's going to be all right. I'll catch you. What's your name?
I'm Fuocorogo.”

“I'm Benito.”

“Ech; that's so sweet.”

“Thank you.”

“No, I didn't mean it as a compliment. We styxdragons are allergic to
sugars and sweet foods. Literally makes us vomit. I'm second-guessing
whether I want to save you.”

“Why do you want to save me? Aren't we supposed to be enemies?”

“Pah! You're too young to be anyone's enemy.”

“I am not!” And here, Benito stomped his foot in petulance, which
caused, having nothing to stomp against, mid-air as he was, an impressive
heels-over-head spinning. “Oh dear! Uh-oh, I've made it worse. Help me!”

Even in his tumbling state of now-I-see-him, now-I-don't, Benito was
impressed by what he saw next. There was a great churning in the water all
around Fuocorogo, as foaming whirlpools were beginning to spin, but then

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