by Paul Cude
Unable to resist, he reached up as high as he could and wriggled the book free, blowing about a barn's worth of spiders' webs off the front cover, once it was down. With great care, he opened the book somewhere in the middle, nearly dropping it when a mushroom cloud of golden dust exploded out from its pages, encompassing his entire head as it did so. Coughing, he spluttered, blinked and shook his head furiously from side to side as he tried to rid himself of the stuff. It just seemed to stick to him though. All the time the king stood off to one side, watching with interest, eager to see just how things would unfold.
Golden dust stuck to Peter's face like rusk on a baby's cheek, his eyes started to water and he felt as though he was going to sneeze. A short cough brought the sneeze under control. As it did so, a mysterious smell assaulted his olfactory sense, something he couldn't make head nor tail of. After a few seconds, however, the smell, or smells as he'd now come to realise, had started to separate out, inspiring a series of different images to course through his brain. Horses became a theme, lots of horses being... hmmm... he wasn't sure. Next came a perfect picture of the biggest and hottest roaring fire in the world. Shivers of excitement rippled up his body at the thought of the enticing heat. As the roaring fire faded just a little, he could just make out hot metal being worked by two very large, very strong, sweaty men. It was a... blacksmiths from a long time ago, he realised, trying hard to understand what an earth was going on. Abruptly there was a tiny pop from the open book still in his hands, and a much smaller shower of golden dust blew up into the air, like a miniature fireworks display, bursting open at its apex to form the phrase 'Industries of Victorian Bicester'. Seeming to have some sense of what was going on now, he picked some pages of the book at random, only to have the same thing happen again and again, smells from many different eras, from the medieval and dark ages through to Tudor, Georgian and Victorian times. It was, he thought... absolutely brilliant! Books that told their story by... smell!
Slipping 'Ahhhhh Bicester!!!' back into its rightful place on the shelf, his gaze wandered along the rest of the section, intrigued to see what else existed in this truly remarkable genre. Meanwhile the king dabbed his cheeks with a multicoloured handkerchief that he'd pulled from the top pocket of his shirt, tears of laughter racing down his face, watching Peter realise what was going on. Deliberately hanging back a little on purpose, knowing that it might have some sort of amusing twist, Peter's expression had caused him to laugh more than he had in ages. So bad were the tears, that the handkerchief had almost reached saturation point, with the king having to turn away for fear of flooding the entire library floor. To his credit, Peter had skipped over a few dubious volumes as he worked his way down the shelf. Among the titles he'd avoided pulling out were 'Tang with a Bang', 'Stink in Pink', 'Seek the Reek', 'Stench of a Wench' and 'The Pong Song of Hong Kong'. His eyes bulged at the one he really liked the look of: 'The Scent of a Dragon'. However, they were mysteriously drawn to the book beside it, 'Bums that Hum'. Looking carefully from side to side, and feeling more guilty than a child waiting outside the headmaster's office, his tiny human shaped fingers darted forward and with amazing precision and grace, gently, but very quickly, pulled the book out into his, by now, very sweaty hands. Carefully, he turned the age old leather covered book over to look at the back. Unusually, there was an inscription written in gold leaf.
'Twenty iconic dragons of the age leave their buttock burping aromas for future generations.'
"A must have, must smell, for the serious collector." Socrates.
"The rich smell of success, from the bottom to the very top." Plato.
"A book not to be sniffed at." Aristotle.
Peter's tears splashed onto the ornate marble floor, in much the same way as the king's own had only a short time ago. Gently, he placed the book back, knowing that opening it up would only create more hilarity and he was just too sensible for that, fully aware he'd seen more than enough.
'What a wonderful place,' he thought, moving away from the shelf, turning into the next aisle, all the time looking for more amazing books, aware of the king's footsteps echoing quietly behind him.
Abruptly, he heard Gee Tee scream excitedly. A cross between a roar, a snort and a squawk, the noise was quickly followed by the sound of running feet. Making a quick note of where he'd got to, Peter took off in the wake of the king, both of them heading for the old shopkeeper.
When he finally arrived a few minutes later, after having made two wrong turnings, Gee Tee stood in the middle of an aisle, brandishing a thick scroll, an expression of pure wonder on his face, watched by Tank and the king. Wondering how the king had beaten him, Peter's thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the old shopkeeper spoke up.
"Come quickly child, I've found it, I've found it," he squealed in delight.
"What have you found?" replied Peter, intrigued.
"We don't know yet," observed the king, frustrated.
Tank took hold of the master mantra maker's wings in an effort to calm him down, but he wasn't having any of it and shook him off instantly, no mean feat for someone that old, not considering Tank's impressive strength, whatever form he was in.
"What is it you've found?" demanded the king.
Gee Tee took deep, measured breaths, trying hard to calm himself.
"I've found something that I've been searching for, for over three centuries."
Peter and Tank were visibly shaken, the king... not so much.
'What on earth has he been looking for that has taken that amount of time to find?' wondered Peter to himself.
"And?" stated the king, losing more patience with every second that passed.
"I've found the mantra instructions for creating 'Elixir of fundo vita,' he said excitedly.
"Ahhh," sighed the king, nodding his head in understanding.
Meanwhile Peter was busy doing the translation in his mind, knowing the others were already well ahead of him. Languages were definitely his weakest link. Tank turned to his friend, recognised the trouble he was having and whispered,
"Elixir of extended life."
Peter mouthed his friend a silent, "Thank you."
Tank, Peter and the king all looked at Gee Tee, waiting for what he had to say next.
"Don't you know what this is?" uttered the old shopkeeper. Tank and Peter of course weren't sure, but could have taken a pretty good guess given its name. On the other hand, the king knew everything about everything in the library. It was part of his remit.
"Do I have to spell it out to you? barked the increasingly frustrated shopkeeper. "The clue's in the title."
"I know exactly what it is, and more importantly, what it's supposed to do," announced the king.
"Why didn't you tell me it was here?" demanded Gee Tee angrily. "You knew an awful long time ago that I was looking for it."
Both Peter and Tank could feel the heat rising throughout their bodies, Peter particularly. The very last thing he would have wanted was for the king and Gee Tee to have a full scale row, here inside his private chambers.
'This is supposed to be my day,' he thought, realising just a little too late how selfish it sounded, even inside his head.
"I should have realised when you shot off like a jet plane from a carrier, exactly what you were looking for. I'm so very sorry."
"Why exactly are you sorry?" asked Gee Tee, folding the scroll up inside his right wing, a suspicious look etched across his scaly face.
"Because I'm afraid you can't have it," uttered the king, apologetically.
"You owe me!" screamed the old shopkeeper, flame crackling from either side of his jaw as he did so.
"I know," whispered the king.
"I've helped you dozens of times, probably even saved your life. You wouldn't be here if not for me."
"I know," repeated the king softly.
Looking on, Peter and Tank felt shell shocked, not knowing what to do or say. Clearly this was something between the two dragons, something from the past, and something e
veryone else was better keeping out of.
"Why?" asked Gee Tee, gloomily.
"It's not mine to give you. If it was, you'd have it in an instant."
"Piffle!" spat the master mantra maker, steam rising from behind his ears.
Abruptly the sound of somebody shouting far below echoed throughout the residence. Peter stood watching as the king's normally, kind, caring and responsible face visibly flinched, albeit for just a split second.
"Stay here," he ordered the trio. "Whatever you do, don't reveal your presence. No one is supposed to have access to the library at the moment. Do you understand? If you're caught up here, you'll be in massive amounts of trouble, and so will I." Shaking his head, turning to leave, this time his voice was softer. "Please don't reveal yourself" and with that, he ran off, pretty quickly for someone of his age, heading for the staircase.
The shouting grew steadily louder with real panic etched into whoever the voice belonged to. Clearly surprised at the turn of events, the three friends stood looking at each other. After a few uncomfortable moments, Gee Tee, still with the scroll tucked neatly under his wing, headed off towards the balcony.
Instinctively, Tank grabbed him by the shoulder, before Peter even had a chance to move.
"What do you think you're doing?" declared the strapping rugby player.
"More to the point, what is it you think you're doing... apprentice?"
The very unsubtle reminder from the master mantra maker about who employed whom would at the very least slow down most people or dragons; not Tank though, who was in no mood to play one of his employer's silly games right at this very moment. Keeping a vice like grip on his boss, not easy whilst being loomed over, he looked him firmly in the eyes, adding steel to his words.
"This is the king we're talking about. He asked us to do something, and by God we're going to do just that. I won't have you getting us and the king in trouble. Do you understand?"
Peter's jaw was almost scraping the ground. It wasn't so much what his friend had said, it was the way in which he'd said it that was so shocking. Gee Tee's mouth twitched slightly, but before he had a chance to say anything, Tank let rip once more.
"You should also remember why we're here. This is Peter's day. It is only because of him that we're here at all, and I will not have you ruining it for him."
A tense silence shrouded the three of them as Tank continued to hold on to his boss, the old shopkeeper glaring daggers at his outspoken young apprentice, while Peter stood, too shocked and surprised to speak. Off in the distance, the sound of footfalls floating up from the twisting staircase could be heard. With the shouting having stopped, the three, using their enhanced senses, could just make out a few desperate words.
"Sire, Sire... come quickly."
"What is it Madeline?" asked the king, all businesslike.
"I'm really sorry to disturb you on your day off, but it's... it's... one of the Crimson Guards, Sire. He's in a really bad way, close to death we think, but he says he has information that he will only pass on to you in person."
High above in the library, Gee Tee shook off his apprentice's grip, and keeping his voice to a whisper, addressed both youngsters.
"I wasn't going to ruin things for either us or the king. It's good to know that you do at least have a little steel in your soul, though, apprentice," quipped the shopkeeper, giving the two of them a little smile. "What I was going to do though, something I recommend that we all do now, is move a little closer to the balcony, so that we can see and hear exactly what's going on. I get the distinct impression that it might well be of great importance, and that the king just might need our help."
Creeping through the array of bookcases, making virtually no noise, Peter was relieved to know that the master mantra maker had no intention of spoiling things, or getting the king into trouble. Sneaking round the final giant bookshelf, all three of them crawled along the polished floor, before sitting up against the side of the balcony. No longer the faint whisper they were, the voices from below were much crisper and clearer. Closing his eyes, Peter tried to imagine exactly what the king was going through. Three more sets of footsteps came across clearly, coming from the direction of the entrance. If Peter wasn't mistaken, it sounded as though someone was either being supported or dragged along.
"Get him up on the plinth," ordered the king.
"Yes Sire," came two identical replies.
"And just who are you?" asked the king suspiciously.
"My name is Yoyo Baines, Sire, a healer from Perth, Australia."
"You seem vaguely familiar."
"I once served in the council's med centre, a very long time ago."
"Ahhh," sighed the king. "And how is it that you find yourself here today?"
"Your Crimson Guard. I found him beneath Perth, struggling for life. He convinced me to bring him straight here, against my better judgement, it has to be said."
Standing deep in thought, the king eventually spoke.
"Could you have healed him?"
Just as Yoyo was about to reply, the unconscious Flash started to come round, flailing his arms and legs on the plinth as he did so. Sweat poured off his brow as he tried to sit up and swing his legs over the side. Both guards who'd accompanied Yoyo and Flash into the private residence stepped forward to help, only to be waved away. Sitting up despite the pain, Flash swayed delicately from side to side. Yoyo stepped in close, just in case Flash lost consciousness again.
Upstairs, next to the balcony that overlooked the plinth, the three friends listened intently to what was taking place down below. In an effort to remain concealed just as the king had wished, Gee Tee had cast a mantra that was now masking all their life signs. It was of course something from ancient times, but the master mantra maker had remembered it and cast it in barely an instant. Both friends had been amazed at the change in the old shopkeeper since they'd entered the library. It was almost as if he'd been infused with energy and had cast off about two hundred years. As the two friends glanced across at each other, hidden from view, they both wondered how long Gee Tee could remain so full of power and, more importantly, how long he could, or would, behave himself.
Down below, in the vast open circle with the plinth in the middle, Flash anxiously looked around at everyone there, before whispering to the king.
"Yoyo saved my life, Sire. Please let him stay. He's the only reason I've managed to get back to you with this information."
Like most people and dragons, the king thought himself a good judge of character, and made an instant decision, knowing he could always undo it later on.
"Alright Flash, he can stay... for now."
Flash nodded.
"The others though, they have to go," he whispered to the king.
Thinking long and hard about what to do, it didn't take him long to reach a decision.
"Guards, Madeline... please leave us," ordered the king.
"Sire?" replied Madeline, his personal assistant, politely.
"Do the three of you not understand a direct command? Leave at once, and don't come back until I order you to do so. Yoyo and Flash will be staying at my behest."
"Yes, Sire," answered Madeline and the guards simultaneously, before turning around and strutting back out through the entrance.
With a quick flick of his head, the king glanced up at the balcony on the library floor, certain he knew what was going on, despite not sensing anyone up there. A gut feeling told him that the shopkeeper had once again employed his craftiness, and that his guests were indeed taking everything in.
"Sire," announced Yoyo. "Before we go any further, I must tell you that Flash's injuries are very serious, fatal in fact, from what I've seen."
A worried frown creased the king's brow as he eyed Flash.
"Is this true Flash?" asked the king softly.
"I don't know for sure, Sire, but I suspect it is. All I really know, is that if not for Yoyo, then I would have died a long time ago, without anyone being any the wiser."
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"I see," said the king." Then I suppose you better tell me what's so important."
As Peter, Tank and Gee Tee listened from behind the balcony, Flash began to reel off his adventure in Antarctica, describing everything down to the finest detail, interrupted only occasionally by the searing pain that racked his fatally wounded body. Yoyo stood by, listening to the story along with the king, doing his best to support Flash, casting mantra after mantra, trying his best to relieve the pain when the naga inflicted wound flared up. Some parts of Flash's story sounded like complete and utter fiction to Peter, while others were so sad it made him want to cry. Of course he couldn't, otherwise it might well have given away the fact that the king, Flash and Yoyo weren't alone. When he heard about the prisoners and the conditions of their incarceration, trapped below the ice, it was all he could do to stifle a sob. On the other hand, the king reacted in quite a different way. Up until now, he'd let Flash get on with his story, not once interrupting or asking a question, but while Peter thought his interest may lie in the naga leader himself, he was in fact more interested in the other dragon prisoners, particularly the one who had helped Flash escape. Listening carefully, Peter heard Flash mention a birthmark on the prisoner's chest, the mention of which caused the king to take a deep breath and shake uncontrollably. Reluctantly, he let it go. Continuing on, Flash failed to notice the reigned in look of thunder smothered across the king's face as talk turned to the memories that had leaked into him from the dying naga. At the mere mention of what had happened, Peter felt physically sick. Surely stealing magic from a dying being was wrong... wasn't it? But the revelation of a corrupt councillor and the existence of some kind of plot that involved nagas disguising themselves as humans across the world, made him forget about any scruples he may have had.
After a few more questions and another painful episode for Flash, the story moved on. Everyone listened intently, marvelling at the Crimson Guard's bravery and ingenuity. With the defeat of the naga disguised as a human at Perth hospital, Flash ended his tale and slumped down hard on the stone plinth. Yoyo took a good look at him while the king stood and watched.