The Lamb and the Gray Battle

October 30, 2022

Aoibh held tightly to Diyiren's hand. An exhausting day was leading into an exhausting night. She missed Gran and she worried for the Banned Music Committee, for their families, for everyone who didn't belong in PC. She couldn't chant anymore.

"Ren, I—I can't do this." Tears webbed her lashes.

"You are almost seven hundred years old. You do what you want."

That was ungracious of him, parroting her words back at her.

Diyiren spun to her, kissed her lips, stroked the hair at her shoulder.

"You are Banrion Aoibh, out of Siofra, out of Bronagh, out of Caoimh," and he kept on until he roared, "Out of Quinn! No one tells you what to do!"

Aoibh's hand shook, but she took Ren's claw, walked beside him toward the plane.

President Gable was wound as tight as a toy car. He took his hands out of his pockets and marched over. "You swore you'd be out of here before All Hallows' Eve."

"It isn't midnight," Diyiren said. "My wife," he said, putting a hand out to her.

President Gable started ranting about her hair. "How has she been roaming the countryside without anyone noticing? She should have been burned at the stake."

"Oh, she has been, hundreds of times," Diyiren said. "She's a dragon and I have told you repeatedly, you can't hurt my kind by burning them at the stake. The book, The Legend of the Red Dragon, is about her." He jabbed a hand at her.

President Gable turned puce and blew his cheeks out. "Missy, you—" He raised a pointed finger at her.

"Your blood pressure!" Aoibh leaped forward, took President Gable by the cheek. "You can't lead your people if you don't take care yourself."

"Don't try to distract me."

She sent energy into his body. "Just trying to calm you."

President Gable eased into the glow as if relaxing in a sauna. "You're—that's nice."

"I'm glad," she hummed.

She rubbed her head on his chest, just as a cat would, her odor lingering longer than any words she spoke, any energy she could leave behind. The police with fire throwers a few feet away gaped at the scene.

"Shoo," she said, sweeping them off.

The policemen glanced at one another. President Gable had an arm holding Aoibh to him.

"You heard the lady. Go on. Scoot."

When a few lingered, Aoibh blasted energy in their direction.

President Gable tickled his fingers through Aoibh's hair. "Little lady, you are just about the sweetest thing I've ever met."

"Thank you!" she squealed. "I'm so sorry that I didn't bring you any treats. It's been a busy day. Do you mind if I come back tomorrow? I'll bring some cinnamon buns."

"Scrumptious. You are absolutely welcome back tomorrow."

Aoibh shrank down, batted her eyelashes, her energy a gentle wave. "I'd have to open a portal to get here. Those are illegal."

President Gable waved his hand. "Pah. Not for you. You are welcome back any time you like."

Aoibh jumped up, threw both her arms around his neck. She kissed him on both cheeks and all over his face. "You are just the most wonderfullest man in the whole world!"

"Now, now. You need to get along back to Wales," President Gable said. "I like you a lot, but that husband of yours—"

"Oh, I know!"

Diyiren looked to Heaven as if anyone there had answered his prayers.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," President Gable said.

"Thank you so much. You're so kind."

President Gable bobbed his head, slipped his chilled hands into his pockets, the warmth of the dragon still soothing him. News cameras and crews recorded every minute of it.

Diyiren was already up the steps to the door of the plane. BoBo's robes had been replaced by a T-shirt and jeans. His hair was shorter than usual and singed at the ends.

"What happened to you?"

"The police threatened the protesters with the flame throwers. I took the fire for them. Ruined my outfit. I've been healing all day. It'll take a few more hours for my hair to come back properly."

"Thank you. Excellent work."

BoBo bowed low. "It's my honor to serve."

"Did you have to send any messages?"

"Three. And don't ask if I had to," BoBo teased. "I wanted to. I wish I could deliver them right now."

Diyiren went back out to meet his wife, who had just reached the top step of the mobile stairs. She turned back, lingered over all the people with signs, "We love you!", "You're My Hero!", "Take Me With You!"

She sent out a wave of energy.

Love each other.

Diyiren whispered in her ear. "You're going to turn into a pillar of salt."

"I want to save all of them."

"You can't," he said. "But this is a start. Visiting President Gable every day, sending your energy out to the masses, it'll help."

"President Gable is going to be impeached. His people will hang him for this."

"Then you will try to make peace with the new president. And the one after that. You will write letters, make appearances."

Aoibh said, "PC won't let me back in."

"Then you'll open a portal. You're a citizen. They can't keep you out. Not legally."

Aoibh furrowed her brow, pursed her lips. "Really?"

"I wrote the clause very carefully. You are free to go wherever you please. No one can stop you. Including me."

Aoibh fell into Diyiren, sobbed, finally understood all the years her husband had spent negotiating with England and Germany and Siam and everywhere else on the planet.

"It will take hundreds of years."

"And you will do it. Because you are Banrion Aoibh and you get what you want."

The blood of thousands drenched Diyiren's claws, even though he hadn't killed a soul in centuries.

BoBo said, "I have no objections to breaching every promise and contract ever made, but I would remind you that we have to taxi a bit and fly over Delaware before we are officially clear of PC."

"Fine, fine. We're coming."