Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  "It's so cool seeing you again. I very rarely get any guests, well... apart from Tank and Richie, and it's great to see another dragon. What brings you this way?"

  "Wellllll," said Flash. "It was the king's idea really, he thought I was becoming a little withdrawn and... miserable. In fact, I believe his exact words were 'take your head out of your... scales and go and enjoy yourself.' He suggested I look up some of my friends and well... other than Yoyo, you and Tank would seem to be the only friends I have in the entire world. And rather than spend many hours on the monorail travelling to Australia, I decided to pay you a visit. I hope you don't mind?"

  "Do I look as though I mind? As I've said before... it's great to see you and you're welcome any time."

  "Thanks," whispered Flash in reply.

  "In fact," ventured Peter, "I was just thinking about going to find Tank. Fancy a quick trip up to Gee Tee's Mantra Emporium?"

  Flash looked more than a little reticent, and then it suddenly dawned on Peter that he'd probably just travelled all the way from London just to see him.

  "Sorry. How insensitive of me. You've just come down from there to see me. It's okay, I can catch up with Tank another time."

  Flash, most unusually for him, let out a little sigh.

  "It's not that... honest. It's more that I don't want to... don't want to bump into any of my old workmates... if you know what I mean."

  "I'm not sure I do," blurted Peter.

  "The Crimson Guard barracks is based in London. They consider it their patch. If anything goes on there, they know all about it. Just to make matters worse, I had a run in with a couple of them a few days ago."

  Peter's face turned serious.

  "Go on," he said.

  "Promise you won't tell the king?"

  Peter thought for a split second before answering.

  "I won't tell him... I promise."

  "It was just a chance meeting really. I'd been to run a few errands for the king, nothing too technical or physically demanding. But after I'd finished, I had nothing else to do. I knew the king had a meeting with the council that would run on long into the night so I decided to do something that I'd never done before: go for a wander. I sauntered around the different districts looking in shops, sampling food, just taking everything in."

  "You've never really done that before?" asked Peter, incredulous.

  "Not as you'd imagine, no. Oh I've wandered the streets and know London like the back of my hand. But I've only ever strolled along them while following someone, training a squad of dragons or chasing down a shady deal or two. I've never wandered them just as an ordinary dragon like you or Tank would have."

  "That's one of the saddest things I've ever heard."

  "It's not as bad as it sounds. It's what I signed up for. I knew full well what I was getting into when I joined the King's Guards, and even more so when I became a Crimson Guard. Those are the kind of sacrifices that need to be made to guard our domain and way of life."

  Peter could feel the passion, commitment and, ultimately, the loss that came through in Flash's words as he spoke. He wouldn't have thought it possible to admire the brave dragon any more than he already did after knowing what he'd been through on that one mission, but sitting here listening to him speak, he found a whole new level of respect for the former Crimson Guard.

  "Anyway," continued Flash. "While I was just wandering around, I came across two Crimson Guards in a backstreet in central London. I tried to avoid them, but in reality had very little chance of doing so. They cornered me, more in a playful way at first. I wasn't sure exactly what they'd been told about me so I just played it cool, put on a bit of bravado. I should have known better. It turned out they knew exactly what had happened. How? I don't know. But they just did. Anyway, the long and the short of it is that they gave me a bit of a beating... well, more than a bit. I managed to use a couple of one off mantra scrolls that I'd kept aside for a rainy day to heal myself up so that the king wasn't any the wiser. But as you can imagine, I'm not particularly keen to repeat the experience."

  Peter was flabbergasted.

  "But why?" he stammered.

  Flash shook his head slowly.

  "They said I was 'profugus' which as I'm sure you're aware means 'outcast.' It's as simple as that to them. One moment I'm one of the highest ranked among them, carrying out some of the deadliest and most dangerous assignments going. The next, they see me as damaged goods or as one of them said 'something towards the very lowest end of the planet's food chain.' Nearly all of them regard humans as rather... substandard, Peter. It's easy to see how I could be held in a much lower contempt, in their view."

  "It doesn't make it right though," snapped Peter angrily.

  "I know," replied Flash softly. "But it's just how they are. No excuse I know, but it is how it is."

  Both sat in silence contemplating what had just been said. Flash broke it.

  "Can I ask whereabouts Gee Tee's shop is?"

  "You don't know?" replied Peter in disbelief.

  "No," answered Flash shrugging his shoulders. "Should I?"

  "Well it just... I thought everybody had heard of Gee Tee's Mantra Emporium, that's all."

  Flash screwed up his face in concentration.

  "It does kind of ring a bell," he said. "But if my altered human or dragon memory, I'm not sure which, serves me correctly, it was a long time ago that I heard about it. Not short of eighty years if I'm correct."

  "Phew," Peter whistled. That was quite some time even by dragon standards and although dragons in theory had perfect memory recall, it didn't always work that way in practice.

  "I seem to remember one of the papers, oh hang on there would only have been one back then, that's right, it must have been the Daily Telepath... there was a big story that lasted for the best part of a week involving... that shop losing... its royal licence I think. Differing versions of events were all across the paper with some suggestions of corruption, while others talked of deterioration in the quality of the shop's goods. Anyway, it soon seemed to blow over, but if I remember correctly, the shop was never quite the same again... I think."

  "That sounds about right from what little I know," added Peter.

  "So whereabouts is it?"

  Peter described the exact location.

  "Interesting," was Flash's only response. "It's not where I thought it would be and far enough out not to warrant any interest from any of the Crimson Guards. I think I'd like to go and see this shop if that's okay."

  Bursting into a smile, Peter asked,

  "Are you sure?"

  "Hmmm... let's go."

  "Just let me grab my keys and phone," said Peter, sprinting into the hall. Flash followed, thinking they were going out the front door.

  "Oh," uttered Peter. "It's okay we're not going that way. Let me show you."

  Walking back into the living room, closely followed by Flash, Peter made his way over to the piano and, gripping the Galileo thermometer tightly with his right hand, gave it a hefty pull and stood back. Flash watched in amusement as the piano swung silently back across the floor, revealing one of many secret entrances to the world they both regarded as home. Trotting over, Peter began to step carefully down the winding staircase and into the lightless room below. Flash followed hot on Peter's heels, eager to see more of this little known secret. Making their way through the darkness, dust and cobwebs with Peter instinctively leading the way, eventually they left the underground part of Peter's house, making their way swiftly to the monorail station. Forty seconds too early, they arrived at the London bound platform. About to ask Flash if he'd explored the king's private library yet, Peter was shocked when the ex Crimson Guard grabbed him firmly by the shoulder and spun him around. Pointing to a river of sizzling molten lava through a gap between two rooftops about a kilometre away, Flash couldn't stop himself from asking,

  "What on earth is that?"

  Tilting his head while squinting, the young hockey playing dragon let out a low, "Ahh
hh...." before answering.

  "It's the left nostril."

  "What?" exclaimed his stuck-as-a-human shaped friend.

  "The left nostril of the 'runny nose'. You must have heard of it... it's famous throughout the domain."

  "If you say so."

  "It is," assured Peter, going on to explain that the rock formation from which the lava flows out looks like a giant, three hundred metre high nose, with the molten magma continually flowing from two holes that resemble nostrils.

  "Dragon tourists come from far and wide just to see it," he added, before they both boarded the silver bullet-like carriage that had just arrived.

  Flash just nodded.

  During the journey the conversation between the two of them became very mundane, both realising that discussing the king or anything to do with Flash's current predicament would, no doubt, attract unwanted attention.

  Before Flash knew it, they both found themselves embroiled in the shadows of a small arched bridge that supported a walkway above it. A sharp turn later and they were in Camelot Arcade, heading towards the old wooden door of Gee Tee's Mantra Emporium. Stepping up to knock on the door, for no apparent reason Peter tried the handle before he did so. Realistically he knew it was a waste of time, as he was sure the shop had long since shut, but to his surprise, the handle turned and the door creaked open.

  Turning to Flash, Peter whispered,

  "I thought it would have been locked up for the night, with Gee Tee already having turned in. But it appears not."

  Flash raised his eyebrows and followed his friend into the brightly lit shop. As they proceeded, a wave of unusually cold air buffeted their warm faces. Flash gently closed the door behind them, before heading into the labyrinth of tall, wooden bookcases. As they pushed on, the deafening silence was punctuated by a very peculiar humming noise, originating from somewhere at the front of the shop. Flash tapped Peter gently on the shoulder, and as Peter turned round, Flash put his finger over his lips, indicating that they should be quiet. Flash leant in towards Peter and in the quietest of whispers said,

  "Something's not quite right here. I'm not sure what, but we should proceed with caution. Peter nodded, and with a sweep of his arm indicated that perhaps Flash should go first. Flash duly obliged.

  Creeping stealthily towards the front of the shop, the two friends rounded the last of the tall bookcases. Out of nowhere shot a giant blur, smashing them both into one of the dust covered shelves, causing them to roll back up the aisle from which they'd both come. With the massive weight of the blur crushing his chest, Peter was pinned helplessly to the ground. Flash, not so much. His body had gone onto autopilot and his combat training was a fraction of a second from kicking in. It was only then that Flash's brilliant mind recalled that he'd heard a shout of, "DOWN!" as the speeding blur had crashed into them... odd, he thought, as he started to slide out from under the breath sapping weight on top of him. Just as it looked as though things couldn't get any weirder, three deadly thick needles of ice shot into the bookcase, behind where they'd been standing only a split second before, quivering there like frosted little arrows. The speeding blur had just saved their lives. Both Flash and Peter craned their necks at the same time, trying to get a glimpse of who, or what, had landed on them. As they did so, a thick neck full of muscle swung round above them. On it was a familiar head, with the same inane smile that Peter had come to know and love.

  "Sorry about that," whispered Tank. "We've got something of a situation here," he added quietly, nodding towards the icy bolts embedded in the bookcase.

  Flash smiled as Tank rolled off the two visitors, and added,

  "Do tell."

  As the three of them sat on the floor, backs against the shelves on the opposite side of the aisle to the ones with the ice bolts in them, Tank began to explain what had happened.

  "Gee Tee and I were working our way through a set of old mantras, trying to determine what they were, if they worked and if they were worth saving. We were employing all the usual safeguards, morphic shields, phase resonators, blanket containment mantras, the lot. Well, after working our way through five or six in quick succession, we came across a most unusual one written in Inuit. I had no idea what any of it said, and although Gee Tee claimed he knew, I could sense a lot of nervousness in the old dragon, something very rare indeed. Anyway, against MY better judgement, he pressed on and cast the mantra, resulting in something akin to one of my nightmares, something that is currently residing round the corner there, near the front desk."

  "Let me guess," ventured Flash. "An ice salamander?"

  Tank nodded his head.

  "And not just any ice salamander. I've seen them before, and yes, they can be a little bit tricky to handle. But this thing is like the queen of all ice salamanders. She's huge, and you've seen the things she's been firing at us. Gee Tee's trapped in the back of the workshop, where he fled as soon as we realised what happened. I've been out here trying to keep her occupied in the hope that the old dragon will find a way to reverse what he's done. This all started about three hours ago, and we've been doing this ever since, with no luck whatsoever."

  "Three hours!" exclaimed Peter incredulously.

  Flash's forehead creased deep in concentration, as he considered the sticky circumstances that they all found themselves in.

  "Why not simply banish it back to where it came from?" he asked, puzzled.

  "That was my thought originally," huffed Tank, looking absolutely shattered. "The problem is that the ice salamander seems to be guarding the scroll with the mantra on it, and is currently curled up atop it, making it all but impossible to banish it. I've spent nearly two hours trying to draw it away from the front desk, in the hope that Gee Tee might sneak out, get the scroll, and... waheyyy... banish it. But it's not happening. It will not leave that scroll. It's almost as if it knows what it is and where it's come from."

  "That, Tank," said Peter, "is simply not possible."

  Tank sighed deeply, wishing that his tired body could go home and curl up in bed.

  "It's not quite as impossible as you seem to think Peter," interrupted Flash, eyes closed, leaning his head back against the dust encrusted book shelves. "In ages past, mantras that summoned creatures with a better understanding of exactly what they were, were almost commonplace. I'm talking of course about a time many, many thousands of years ago, but it did happen. What I struggle to understand is how a mantra could have lasted so long, and ended up here. Still... at this moment it's a moot point. We need to banish the ice salamander back to where it came from. If it does have any sort of understanding of what it is, the longer we wait, the harder all this is going to be."

  "Uhhh, there's something else as well," whispered Tank nervously. "The shields on the building are weaker than they've ever been. Gee Tee's known this for some time, but hasn't got round to having them reenergised."

  "Exactly how weak are the shields?" demanded Flash, quietly. "Weak enough for that thing to make a break for it?""

  Rather sheepishly, Tank nodded his head.

  "And you haven't called the King's Guard?"

  Tank shook his head.

  "If the King's Guard come, they'll shut the whole place down for good. This will be the end of it all. They'll do it, and Rosebloom will make sure that it stays shut," added Tank, trying desperately to hold back tears. "I know they should have been called, and I realise the danger if that thing gets out... but I just couldn't do it. If they closed this place down, it would finish him off. I thought I could distract it and together we could undo everything... oh I can't believe this is happening. What a day!"

  Flash slapped Tank playfully on the shoulder.

  "Well... now that the cavalry has arrived, there's nothing to worry about is there? I'll create a distraction worthy of note, and you two can get the mantra back to Gee Tee. How does that sound?"

  Tank's inane smile reappeared immediately.

  "That sounds great. But are you sure you can do it?"

  "Do
dragons pee in the air?" (And if you'd ever been hit by flying dragon pee, boy you'd know it. Not just hospitalisation, but decontamination as well.) "I'm not called Flash for nothing you know. One very important thing to remember though guys."

  "What's that?" mumbled Peter.

  "We must avoid those ice bolts at all costs. If one of those hits a dragon, no matter what their form, I think it would be safe to say that the only thing you'd be seeing after that is a great big lake of lava."

  Peter and Tank both understood his meaning. It brought home to Tank just how much danger he'd been in over the last few hours. Numerous times he'd felt the cold chill of an ice bolt skimming within inches of a limb or two. Momentarily, his large, powerful legs wobbled a little at the thought of what could have happened.

  "Now," whispered Flash, finally seeing what he needed on a belt strapped around Tank's waist. "I need that mantra scalpel Tank, please, and Peter, I need your mobile phone."

  Tank drew out the sharp blade that was used to repair and reconfigure broken mantras. The tip had a brilliant green glow to it. Peter handed over his mobile phone. Flash took the touch screen phone and held it up in the air so that a tiny part of it poked around the end of the bookcase. Glancing into the reflection on the screen, Flash gauged exactly where the deadly ice salamander was. After a few moments, he pulled the phone back and crouched down with his friends.

  "Okay, get as near as you can on the southern side, nearest to the workshop. I'll approach from the north and attempt to lead her out into the depths of the shop that way. When you get the mantra... don't hang about. I'm guessing she's going to be rather mad at me, and I'm not going to have very long. Good luck!"

  With that, Flash turned and headed back up the aisle, in the direction of the front door. Meanwhile, Peter had the startled expression of a bunny caught in the headlights of an onrushing car.

  "Come on Pete," whispered Tank, slapping his friend on the back. "What could possibly go wrong?"