by Paul Cude
"On top of all of that," piped up Flash, "they'll also say that to trust the word of a dragon who's stuck in human form for the rest of his life, is the wrong thing to do."
The king nodded in agreement.
"Sadly, Flash is right. Most of them would feel him to be tainted at the very least. I know... huh... I know it's wrong, but that's how most of them think," added the king, waving away the protests of Tank and Peter. "I'm sorry Peter, I truly am. I would do anything to get your grandfather back, even give my own life if I could be certain it would work, but at the moment, there are too many other things to take into consideration. This may affect the dragon world in some way, so we have to find out what's going on with the nagas, why they're fighting against us and how we can stop it. Then, and only then, can we consider rescuing your grandfather, and believe me when I say we WILL rescue him, I give you my word as king of this realm.
Peter was lost for words. It was all so much to take in. Tank wrapped one of his huge arms around him and gave him a badly needed hug.
"It'll be alright. The king will get him back, you'll see," stated Tank cheerily, trying his best to look on the bright side.
Peter, however, wasn't convinced and before he had a chance to voice his reservations, the king very politely told them it was time to leave as he wanted to thoroughly debrief Flash and report his findings to the council, his thinking being that the sooner they got the ball rolling, the sooner they'd get Peter's grandfather back. Before they left, he thanked them for everything they'd done, swore them once again to secrecy, and then told Peter that his trunk and its contents would be delivered before the week was out and that he would be in touch. Flash shook their hands and gave each one of them a hug, something that seemed utterly appropriate, and was totally new to him. After Madeline had appeared and escorted them back to the main entrance of the council building, the four of them trudged through the doors and down the steps, stopping to reflect on the day's events at the nearest of the two lava pools.
Leaning over the lava, watching the bubbles plop, gurgle and fizz, Peter could see his friends' faces reflected in the fiery, molten liquid of the pool.
'They all have pained expressions,' he thought as his mind tried to make sense of the day's events. So far he'd met and made friends with Flash, who had nearly died but had been saved by Gee Tee, received the amazing contents of his grandfather's trunk, been told his parents had collaborated with the Nazis, learned of a massive threat to not just the dragon world, but the planet as a whole from the mysterious nagas, found out that his grandfather was still alive, and last but not least, learnt that the king wielded more prestige than power and was really quite toothless in a political sense.
'Whatever happens at work tomorrow will seem quite dull by comparison,' he mused, trying terribly hard to look on the bright side of things.
Yoyo interrupted Peter's train of thought.
"I'm sorry friends, but I really have to go. It's going to take me quite some time to get back to Perth and think up an explanation as to why I've been away. It's been one hell of a day for me, and it's been great to meet all of you, and Flash, and see the king again. Perhaps you could all come and visit me if you get the chance? You would all be very welcome. It would be great to meet up, and if you haven't visited Australia, you don't know what you're missing. I would be more than happy to be your tour guide."
Peter, Tank and Gee Tee all bade farewell to the healer, wishing him well and promising to keep in touch and even try and arrange a visit, assuring him that they would keep an eye on Flash.
Soon after Yoyo left, the three of them split up, with Tank escorting Gee Tee back to the Mantra Emporium, and Peter heading back home, but not before the old shopkeeper had assured Peter that the king would rescue his grandfather and that he, as the world's foremost mantra expert, would lend his valuable experience and expertise to the cause, putting the outcome beyond any doubt. If nothing else, this put a smile on the young hockey playing dragon's face for the first time in a little while, something he supposed was the intention of the crafty old shopkeeper. As he strolled slowly towards the nearest monorail station, he had no idea at all of what to make of the most bizarre Sunday of his entire life.
12 Sub-Zero Hero
Lying against the freezing wall of ice, the human shaped dragon scientist cried constantly, shivering and muttering as he did so. Nearly all his rounded bones were visible through his skin, taut from lack of nourishment. Resembling a waif from a very hot third world country, in dragon terms he was... very ordinary. A model dragon citizen, he had a mate waiting for him, or at least he hoped he still did, back in Manchester, England. This chained, dirty, filthy, ragged, emaciated and frightened dragon, was one of the brightest minds on the whole planet. What he wasn't, however, was a hero. Not brave, steely or tough, he had a low tolerance for pain and wanted nothing more than to live a nice, straightforward, peaceful life. Most certainly he was the wrong dragon in the wrong place at the wrong time, a time that was very nearly at an end.
Night and day blended into one in the icy prison, the lack of daylight making it impossible to know the time, the only constant, the gurgling of the stream, which slowly chipped away at the captives' sanity.
Curled up in front of the icy wall, his weight supported by his giant, shiny blue tail that sparkled beautifully, the naga king, as always, had one eye open, resting like this ever since his incarceration, always on the lookout for an opportunity, but in all the time he'd been trapped, the right one had never presented itself... well, not yet anyway.
Lying asleep, flat on the ground, the ancient dragon spluttered and coughed, much as he had for most of his confinement. The only time he woke was when the evil human appeared with food, kicking and beating him awake, only stopping when his thirst for violence had been sated.
Crouching in the flickering light, stretching some of his leg and shoulder muscles, the last prisoner, the dragon shaped as a human with long scraggy hair and a blue birthmark splattered across his chest, was another waiting for an opportunity to escape and hoping, despite what the evil human had claimed, that the dragon he and the naga king had aided, had indeed made it back to the underground domain.
Hours after the dragon had escaped, the spiteful human and a naga he'd never seen before appeared from out of nowhere and had inflicted one of the heaviest beatings yet on everyone except the naga king. Afterwards the human jailer had spent a long time explaining how the dragon had been killed in his attempt to gain freedom. For what seemed like an eternity they'd both gone on about it, almost trying a bit too hard. What Fredric Bluewillow, Peter's grandfather, thought, was that he had indeed escaped, because if he had been killed, his broken body would almost certainly have been brought back for all to see. A tiny twinkle of hope lit up the back of his mind. All he had to do was survive, survive like he'd been doing for decades... oh, and not go insane.
Abruptly the freezing monotony was interrupted by the sound of voices carrying over the cold, frosty air from somewhere close by. This was something completely new. In all the time the prisoners had been there, they'd only ever seen the evil human that fed them, or the odd naga or two. On occasions, it had seemed as though there had been another presence flirting in the background somewhere just out of sight, but never had they actually heard anyone talking. And more intriguingly, the voices seemed to be heading in their direction.
Fredric and the naga king instantly became alert, both having the same thoughts.
'The human who feeds us is not long gone. This is something different and might be our one and only opportunity. We have to be ready.' Fredric stood poised, his muscles gleamed and quiet determination filled his eyes. Uncurled and risen to his full height, the naga king's eyes were alert as he gave off a sense of dignity, quite something given his circumstances.
Suddenly from out of the darkness and the icy mist came the evil little human, followed hot on his heels by a... man. At least, that's what they thought at first.
Cackling and chuck
ling, the deranged human jailer led this new face up to the row of prisoners. Fredric and the naga king both breathed deeply, not flinching even an inch, doing their best to ignore the hated keeper. They were too wise, too well trained, to be provoked into even the smallest of movements. Remaining asleep, the ancient dragon continued to cough and splutter. Hanging limply from the manacles that shackled him to the icy wall, the human shaped scientist shook fiercely as the cold attacked his ill prepared body, startling him awake, still shrouded in fear.
Very slowly, the human started to walk up and down the row of prisoners, with it becoming immediately obvious that he had a very pronounced limp. Fredric and the naga king also deduced from his body language that the man was used to something to support his weight, like a stick or a cane. The three prisoners that were aware of the inspection all remained stock still and silent, well... apart from the human shaped dragon scientist who, despite his best efforts, continued to shake and shiver involuntarily.
Although only having limited use of their magical dragon and naga abilities, both Fredric and the naga king could both tell that the human was much more than he first appeared. They'd both seen human shaped nagas relatively recently and had immediately known what they were. But this was something different. They were able to tell he was something other than human, wearing the form as a type of disguise, if you will, but as to his base identity, they had absolutely no idea whatsoever.
After having walked up the line, inspecting the ancient dragon (still coughing, wheezing and asleep) and Fredric at the very end, the human shaped whatever-he-was turned and limped back to the shivering scientist at the other end, all but ignoring the naga king as he did so. Reaching the scientist who by now was cowering against the icy wall, the large, stocky, human shaped whatever-he-was jutted out his square jaw that had more than a few days growth of stubble on it.
"YOU!" he shouted at the scientist. "What are you doing in Antarctica?" he snarled, "and don't give me all that global warming rubbish."
Shaking and shivering more from fear than cold, the scientist replied.
"I... I... I... I... It... It's... th... th... the global war... warm... warming that we... we... we... were sent to stuuuudy."
"LIAR!" raged the human shaped whatever-he-was, kicking the scientist brutally in the chest.
After the kick had landed, an awful CRACK echoed around the cavern accompanied by the scientist's high pitched scream. In the dark and the cold, Fredric rallied against his chains, pulling them taut, using every ounce of strength he could to try to break free, ready to step in and deliver what he considered justice.
"NOW... tell me the real reason you're here. You're only making things harder for yourself," raved the human shaped whatever-he-was, steam rising from the receding brown hair that dappled his head.
Curled up in a heap, crying like a baby wanting its mother, the scientist had nothing else to say, because he'd only been sent to Antarctica to research the effects of global warming and knew of no other mission, having no idea why he was here, who his captors were, or what would happen next. He just wanted to go home.
"You snivelling, spineless, putrid excuse for a dragon... you're pathetic!" spat the human shaped whatever-he-was. "JOSHIM... here," he ordered.
Slinking forward, the evil, creepy jailer suddenly appeared at his side. With a look of pure malevolence etched across his face, the evil shaped whatever-he-was gave his command.
"He's no longer of any use. Finish him off... now."
The scientist screamed,
"NOOOOOOO!" as the jailer skulked towards him, sneering menacingly, pleased to be able to show off his talents. Fredric and the naga king strained against their chains in an effort to protect their comrade against the fight, well I say fight, what I really mean is... murder. Joshim the jailer started with a brutal kick straight into the scientist's face. Bright red blood splattered across the shiny, icy surface surrounding the scientist, along with two or three broken teeth. Muffled by the sheer delight of Joshim, the prisoner muttered something, but no one in the deadly cold cavern could make out what had been said, either because of the scientist's broken nose, his lost teeth, or the fear that ran through him at the thought of what was to come.
With the scientist babbling incoherently now, Joshim continued his grim task with aplomb, all the time a sadistic smile ingrained on his face. Reaching down, the evil jailer picked up his organic punch bag and head butted him as hard as he could, the sickening noise reverberating up the line of captives. All the time the human shaped whatever-he-was watched in satisfaction, standing just far enough back so as not to get covered in blood, but just close enough to revel in the action. All the while, Fredric and the naga king continued to try and break free from their bonds despite knowing that it was all but impossible.
By now Joshim had rained down another series of blows onto the defenceless human shaped dragon, breaking most of his ribs by the sound of it. Fredric, who hadn't quite given up trying to break free, but had realised the fruitlessness of his efforts, forced himself to watch what was happening. Not because he was a violent being, or got any sort of kick out of it, unlike the human shaped whatever-he-was. No! Fredric forced himself to watch so that the scientist's death would be remembered, his sacrifice would not be in vain and most importantly, so that when his chance came along, and he truly believed it would, he could conjure up what was happening here and now and use it to power him to freedom, as well as exact revenge on those that had committed the atrocity. They WOULD pay for what they were doing now.
Lying perfectly still on the frozen surface, either unconscious or more probably dead, the scientist's battered and broken body continued to be assaulted by the crazed jailer, who took great pleasure in kicking, punching, slapping and even at one point biting a huge chunk out of the victim's leg. At the sight of this, the naga king let out a piercing scream that had ice and rock tumbling from the ceiling, but still it wasn't enough to distract Joshim from his grim mission. In fact all it managed to do was provoke a smile from the human shaped whatever-he-was.
Half an hour, that's how much longer the sadistic beating lasted, ending only when Joshim lay soaked in sweat and exhausted, next to what was left of the dragon scientist. Wandering over, the human shaped whatever-he-was patted the evil jailer on his sweaty head in much the same way a human would do to a dog that had just done something clever. With pieces of flesh hanging out of his mouth, Joshim looked up at his master appreciatively, grateful for any attention he could get.
Turning away from his wicked little servant, the human shape with the limp strolled past the naga king, grinning from ear to ear as he did so, careful not to get within striking range of the agitated creature. When he reached Fredric, the grin had subsided a little, but still remained around the edges of his mouth.
"How did you like the show?"
Fredric knew he was on a hiding to nothing. If he reacted he might get a beating, or worse; with the jailer being in this crazed state things might go a bit too far and bang, there would go the chance of ever being free. The only sensible course of action would be to stay quiet, not react, and hope that it was enough to keep him alive for now.
"Somewhere inside you, the little dragon must be desperate to get out and beat me senseless," mocked the human shaped whatever-he-was, trying to provoke a response.
Focused on his breathing, Fredric tried using what little of his dragon abilities he could access to see if he could fathom anything at all about this mysterious visitor, now that he was standing right in front of him. It wasn't quite instantaneous like it used to be when he was free and at the height of his powers, but his dormant dragon senses awoke at his request, reaching out towards the being in front of him, searching for anything, anything at all. Fredric locked gazes with the stranger across the two feet or so that separated them.
In essence what Fredric was doing would go unnoticed by most dragons, and should certainly not be very taxing. But because of the environment and his incarceration, this simple
little action was taking its toll. His muscles burned, his head ached, even more than it did constantly. Still he ploughed on, determined to gain what little insight he could into what was going on, thinking of all the time he'd spent there, all the brutality, everything he'd missed in the dragon domain, and how he'd let down his friend the king. All this had the desired effect, spurring his efforts on, washing away some of the tiredness. Through the haze, he caught the tiniest glimpse of something familiar, but for the life of him he couldn't work out what it was.
Shaking his head, and grinning just a little, the human guise in front of him quipped,
"Ohhh... you're good... yes, much better than I'd anticipated. Did you find anything?"
Fredric let his dragon talents drift back down to the place inside him where the cold normally forced them to reside. Sweat trickled down his forehead and his long, matted hair from the exhaustion of using just a fraction of his powers. Reeling a bit from the fact that the human shaped whatever-he-was could tell that he'd been using his abilities, he knew that no ordinary dragon would have been able to do that, if that's even what he was.