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Adam’s mind blanked at Isis’ words. He forgot the wonder of witnessing a dryad for the first time, forgot the shocking transformation of the red-headed woman Veti to a gargantuan red-furred canine, and set aside the curious sight of a pale child moving faster than the golem’s eye could follow. He stood there motionless, his carefully sculpted jaw slightly ajar, glittering black eyes wide as he regarded the goddess.

[i]My wings will bear us,[/i] she had said.

If a golem was not created for gentle touches, one was most certainly not created to fly. Adam was heavier, far heavier than he looked -- and he looked rather heavy to begin with. What if Isis dropped him? What if he fell in the ocean and was trapped there for all of time, just two futilely kicking legs protruding from the unlit mud miles beneath the surface? What if a giant whale swallowed him like Jonah? What if Adam fell on a bed of rock and shattered to a million pieces? How could he ever rebuild himself?

There appeared to be no choice, though. Adam had given his assent. It was not in his nature to revoke such agreement, nor to provide an alternative for an unfavorable path. It was in the golem’s nature to protect and enforce … and to serve. And “to serve” now meant helping a red-headed werewolf named Veti recover an artifact that would return her lost Love.

He breathed in slow and deep. He had noticed humans did that when faced with a troublesome bargain. The golem had never understood the magic in such gestures, though, but somehow the routine made his broad shoulders go from slumped to squared.

Ponderously Adam stepped toward Isis. He tucked his hat and sun-shades in an inside pocket of his trench -- he didn’t want to lose them while in flight. When he was with the group, he slowly raised his huge hand and covered his eyes. If he was going get accidentally dropped into a volcano somewhere, he didn’t want to see it coming.