"Huh," Hellboy said again. He stared up at the dragon. "Souvenirs?"
"From ... from what I know about dragons, it's ... " She trailed off, staring up past Hellboy. "That's a dragon!"
"Sure looks like it." He glanced at the woman, looked away, back again. She'd hardly raised an eyebrow when he arrived at the airport; not the usual response he engendered. His lobster-red skin, horn stumps, and waving tail usually attracted some sort of comment, even from people he'd met before. Amelia had known of him — she had imparted that much, at least — but she'd already seen something more amazing that day.
He had to admit, it was quite a sight.
"So ... souvenirs?" he repeated.
"You don't know about dragons?" she asked.
"They're lizards. They breathe fire. They're not nice."
"Actually, they were harmless once," the lecturer said. "Burned crops when people pissed them off, that was about their limit. Then Christianity turned them into demons, and they became demons, and they were hunted to extinction. At least, that's how the story goes. The story also says that if you eat a dragon's heart, you'll understand the language of birds."
"Useful," Hellboy said. "But that thing up there doesn't look extinct to me."
Amelia paled, leaned against the timber railing for support. Hellboy smiled and touched her shoulder gently with his big stonelike hand. Reality kept hitting her, surprising her with what she was actually seeing up there.
"What about the military?" he asked.
Amelia shrugged. "They've approached me, too. And ... maybe it's my fault they're not doing anything. I told them that the appearance of a dragon was once thought to be an omen of good fortune."
"And is it?"
Amelia shrugged again. "They seem to think so. They left after I said that, and I haven't seen them since."
"Well, we can't just leave it there. I have to go up. See what that thing wants. Can't let it fly around and burn the place."
"How will you stop it?"
"I'll find a way, it's what I do. Will you drive me to the station?"
"Oh, yes, you bet!"
They heard a sudden screech, then a loud roar that spread out over the city. Hellboy looked up in time to see the dragon dip its head and sweep it across the rim of the plateau. Several waving shapes burst into flames and tumbled down the cliffs, their screams too far away to hear. "Omen of good luck," he said. "You sure, Amelia?"
"Oh, those poor people ... " She looked up into Hellboy's eyes, and for the first time he recognized her fear.
* * *
As Amelia drove her Jeep toward the mountain train station, Hellboy leaned out the window and stared up. The dragon was still there, perched quite comfortably on Christ's outstretched arm, surveying the view as if it owned the place. Occasionally it stretched its wings, stood up, and belched fire at the sky. Hellboy was not sure why until he saw the press helicopters hovering nearby.
So much for covert. He hated being the center of attention.
They followed the road around the slope of the mountain, and for a while a bulk of rock obscured the view. Hellboy sat back in his seat and chewed softly on the unlit cigarette. He wished — not for the first time — that he'd listened to Professor Bruttenholm when he had told Hellboy to spend more time learning. Maybe then he would know more about dragons, where they came from, what they wanted, what species this one was ... and most important, how he could stop it. He touched the big gun on his belt and smiled. Bad shot though he was, he couldn't miss this sucker.
"Are you really from hell?" Amelia asked.
Hellboy scowled. "What's your area of expertise again?"
"Mythology."
"I'm no myth. Drive."
* * *