55.

The Yolk of Freedom

W hile Annika and Blackburn fought, Bolt had been in the grip of penguins leading him to the cage. Bolt was not as strong as they were, but then again, his muscles weren’t his true strength. Not even close.

Bolt reached inside the heads of the soldiers next to him, not worrying about being careful or unnoticed. Please. This is not who you are . Let me go. We are family.

The mist of dread and hate was as thick as a brick door. But Annika and Blackburn would never defeat the Earl and his penguins without him. He kept bombarding them with thoughts of kindness and love, family and peace. Each thought chipped the door, making a hole the way a shark would against the hull of a boat. Then, with one mighty blast, he sent a tendril of thoughts into their heads:

Tickle, tickle.

The penguins stumbled, just a little, and Bolt ripped his arms from their wings. He ran toward the throne while tearing his backpack from his shoulders.

Family was the most powerful weapon of all.

Bolt pulled out the egg, which felt heavier in his hands than it had in the bag strapped around his shoulders. He shouted that he had an egg, and all eyes stared at him.

And then the Earl laughed. “What are you going to do, make us scrambled eggs?” He snapped his fingers and pointed to the penguin soldiers, who also stared at Bolt, but kept their distance. “What are you waiting for? Throw the boy in the cage, while I finish the girl.” He nodded toward Annika, who was holding her ankle.

None of the penguins around Bolt moved. Bolt felt indecision swimming in their heads. To a penguin, nothing is more important than family, and that love of family can never be completely controlled. It was buried far deeper than the Earl could ever go.

Family was their true strength. And a penguin egg is family.

The soldiers stared at Bolt, not daring to edge closer and damage the egg.

“What are you doing? Grab the brat,” demanded the Earl, but his voice echoed throughout the room, unheeded. The Earl pounded his foot on the ground, sending slimy fish nuggets hurtling into the air as he glared around the room, snarling. “If you don’t get him right now, I’ll mince each of you, throw you in our fryers, and bake you into penguin sticks!”

“They won’t hurt me,” said Bolt, his own anger simmering, but controlled. “They respect family, and the love of an egg. You can turn them into an army, but you can never change that part of them.”

The Earl scowled. “I will take that egg of yours and crack it in half. And then I’ll crack you in half. And I’ll serve you and that egg and every other egg in this kingdom for breakfast, sunny-side up!”

The penguins gasped, and Bolt sensed a tidal wave of hate and distrust surge across the room. But those feelings were not from the Earl, but from the penguins around him, aimed at the Earl. You never mess with a penguin and an egg.

The penguins in the room bared their teeth at the Earl, or would have if penguins had teeth. So they just sort of opened their beaks in a threatening manner.

“What are you doing?” demanded the Earl. The Earl sent waves of anger toward the soldiers. Bolt could feel it, and the soldiers turned toward Bolt. He sent waves of hope and love back, and the soldiers turned toward the Earl.

Another wave of anger turned the penguins to Bolt.

Another wave of love turned them toward the Earl.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Everyone was getting dizzy.

And then the great clock tower chimed.

One chime. Two chimes. It kept going, no one moving, no one even daring to breathe.

The clock struck twelve. A shaft of moonlight lit the room from the windows high above, and both Bolt and the Earl transformed into penguins.