by Paul Cude
* * *
Silverbonce told the players of both teams in no uncertain terms that they had to leave. But not one of them would go. They all steadfastly refused.
'They're all as stubborn as I am,' he thought, knowing that their regard for Steel meant more than their own safety. As they all soared above the lava, just off the entrance to the medical bay, one thought above all others surfaced in Silverbonce's mind.
'Come on my boy... you've had long enough. Make for the surface, make for the surface.'
Having been counting down in his mind, while at the same time flying for his life, a smile stretched across what remained of his face, as most of the scales there had been either burnt beyond recognition, or just simply destroyed.
'Ha... I'm not sure whether I'm actually flying, or swimming. What a ludicrous thought.' With his mouth clamped firmly shut, his brain knew that it was being starved of oxygen... hence the rather bizarre thoughts. But his brain, much like what was left of his body, had little interest in dying. It liked life. It loved laminium ball. It wanted to... play again!
BOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!!! A crushing explosion reverberated far beneath the scorching hot magma, causing the rocky arena to shake uncontrollably. Huge chunks of rock and stone tumbled from the roof. Large masses of the surrounding walls, where dragon families had been sitting only moments earlier, slipped into the blistering lava, causing huge waves to crash around its surface. Massive cracks splintered their way across the unstable ceiling and down the sides. Stone and rubble continued to fall randomly, creating a dust cloud so thick it was barely possible to see the end of your own extremities. Players from both sides, the medics and the officials huddled in the entrance to the medical bay, all nearly reconsidering their decision not to have left when they had the chance. Suddenly a huge ear splitting rumble rolled around the cavern, shaking more debris from the roof into the lava. By now most fans had made it out of the arena into the surrounding area, only to find themselves packed into adjacent tunnels on their way to the monorail station, all suffering the same panic and fear as those back in the stadium as the ground, ceiling and walls quaked all around them. Individuals and families screamed in terror as the world they knew roared with rage and trembled with dread. To a dragon, they all craved the open, fresh air. But there was just no way they could get there at the moment. Most settled on silent prayers to Mother Earth, a long forgotten God from ancient fables, something that was only recalled from the depths of dragon consciousness in times like these.
Minutes passed... slowly for those cowering from the shock waves. Gradually they subsided. The dragon domain in and around New Zealand leapt into action, knowing instantly about the problem and the dragons trapped in and around that area. King's Guards, as well as the usual contingent of emergency services shot into action, immediately heading for the danger zone.
Above the lava, the dust cloud started to dissipate. All of the players peeked out from the entrance to the medical bay where they'd taken shelter. Despite gaping cracks in the walls and the ceiling above them, it looked as though the stadium had survived the powerful blast... JUST!
'But what about Steel?' they all thought. 'Has he survived the blast?' Almost as one, they dived off the entrance, swooping up over the molten magma that bubbled and boiled with a ferocity never before seen, searching for the brave and selfless laminium ball player, even those who were carrying injuries.
Elsewhere, dragons made their way towards one of the many exits. Disaster management technicians were now on hand, as well as the emergency services and the King's Guard. Tens of thousands of spectators were shepherded to safety out of the badly damaged tunnels, while the monorail was taken out of service until the line could be checked. As the fans left the tunnels, they talked about what they'd seen, with the emergency services and in particular, the King's Guard.
Flooding into the arena, the new arrivals were greeted by the sight of players from both teams, the referee and the medics soaring across the unstable molten magma. Peeling off to explain what had happened, the referee told them that they were searching for any sign of Steel. The leader of the King's Guard thought it utter madness to be looking for someone who'd disappeared beneath the lava so long ago, and said as much. But the referee, like the players, was still of the belief there was a chance that Steel might somehow be alive. The leader, however, chose to ignore this, and dispatched his contingent to check the structural integrity of the arena and the surrounding area. Rejoining the players, the referee informed them of what had been said. In stark contrast to only minutes ago when the match had been in full swing, the stadium had an eerie feel to it, as the sounds of flapping wings, bubbling and plopping magma and far off muttered mantras echoed throughout. It felt incomplete without the audience it was designed to hold. Continuing their search across the lava's surface, grim reality was starting to become etched on each of the dragon's faces; the more time ticked by, each realising that in all likelihood they were wasting their time.
Pulling up from the area that he'd been surveying for any sign of his friend, Silverbonce knew in his heart it was time to call it a day. Any hope of him surviving had long since evaporated, realistically. Tears welled up inside him. Trying his best to hold them in check, to no avail, they streamed down the scales on his cheeks, plunging into the smoking hot, orange lava, making a sizzling sound as they made contact. Trying not to let his voice give way, the old mouth guard told the others it was time to call off the search. Of course they were all devastated, but they too knew the time had come. As a group, they made their way across to the medical bay, as that had been proven by the King's Guard to be the safest and surest way out. As the last dragon landed on the edge of the entrance, a boiling, gurgling, fizzing, bubbling sound whispered up from one of the dark corners of the arena's molten floor. Cheese alone turned to look back as some of the others made their way past him, clearly not having heard the noise. Goose bumps flitted across both his wings and down his tail. Dodging around Raptor, the last of the dragons to come in, instinct and his gut told him there was something out there.
"Wait," he cried, his soft voice echoing down the narrow tunnel. As one, the dragons all turned in his direction. "There's something out there."
Taking a step, he dived off and with one flap of his powerful wings, headed towards the far corner. At first, others stood and watched. That is, until Silverbonce pushed his way through. He'd been the first to go into the tunnel, wanting to make it easier for the others, but he had no hesitation in following Cheese. The rest of them did the same.
It didn't take long, eight or nine seconds at most, and then Cheese was there, in that darkened corner. Silverbonce arrived next.
"What is it?" he asked urgently.
"I heard something, something over here."
"Are you sure?"
Cheese turned towards his teammate, a look of utter conviction spread across his face. Silverbonce nodded at his friend, sorry for having doubted him. Abruptly, a guttural gurgle boiled up beneath them. Although not an entirely uncommon lava sound, there was something different about this. It sounded almost too loud, too full of air. Then it happened again, only this time much more violently. By now, the rest of the dragons had arrived and formed a huge ring around the unexplained bubbles in the steaming hot, viscous liquid. Smaller bubbles fizzed to the surface all around the much larger event. Some of the dragons drew back, afraid of what might happen, in case it was some sort of aftershock from the explosion. And then a giant 'SQUELCH' sounding like someone puckering up for a kiss, surprised them all, preceding a lonely grey shape bobbing to the surface. It was impossible for the dragons to make out what it was at first, because of the lava and the damage, but it didn't take them long.
"STEEL!" yelled Silverbonce at the top of his voice, immediately swooping down towards his friend. Joined by his teammates and the medics, Cheese, Barf and Zip all started to lift the dark shape.
"Careful!" screamed one of the medics, appalled at the damage the Warriors' captain ha
d taken.
Barf looked over his shoulder and shot the medic an evil look. As the limp, wretched body was pulled out of the magma, sighs of dismay echoed around the cavern. Not a single scale remained on the burnt and disjointed body of the brave laminium ball player. But that wasn't the worst part. While the wing carpus and metacarpus bones all appeared intact, the skin, tendons and ligaments of both wings had completely disintegrated. Both wings were gone; only the outer bone remained. After Steel had been hauled out, the medics moved in to check for any sign of life. None of the dragons there could see how that would even be possible, and after the sight of his wings, or lack of them, most hoped his soul had ascended to a better place. But to the shock and awe of the medics, Steel was still alive, albeit barely. Surprise abounded from them all. Quickly, the medics ushered those carrying him towards their station, despite protests from the King's Guards, who were still trying desperately to get everyone out of the area. But the medics were having none of it. With Steel in the medical bay, they shooed everyone else away and started their most challenging piece of work ever.
Forced to leave the arena, despite their protests and the fact that the Warriors wanted to remain as close to Steel as possible, it broke Silverbonce's heart not to be at his friend's side, particularly in light of the heroics he'd performed in saving them all. Had that bomb gone off in the stadium itself, the results would have been devastating. As it was though, only a few minor injuries, Steel aside, had been reported during the whole incident. Luck and Steel's bravery had served the dragon community well.
27 The Magic Roundabout
Having been awake for a few minutes now, she decided to get up. Quietly, she pulled back the luxurious, Egyptian cotton covers on her side of the bed and brought her small but powerful feet down onto the intricate pattern woven into the expensive carpet.
'This is the life,' she thought, stretching and yawning at the same time. Feeling completely awake after her yawn, she padded softly across the room to the full sized Venetian window. Twisting the metal handle as gently as possible, she pulled open the old wooden frame and gazed out contentedly, barely able to believe she was there.
It had started out the same as any old week... work, work, work, made even more unbearable knowing that the boys... Peter, Tank and Flash... had all disappeared off to New Zealand to take in the sights and watch the laminium ball match. Of course, she could have gone with them, they had invited her after all. It would have been a mistake though, she'd known that straight away. One little slip and they'd all realise that she'd gone back on her word, gone back to... Tim. Not wanting to put them in that position, she'd declined their offer, citing work commitments as her excuse. That's how her week had started. Two days in, however, things had changed dramatically. There she'd been, sitting in her office, drudging through her emails, when the phone had rung. Annoyed at the interruption, she snappily answered the call and was pleasantly surprised to find it was Tim. Her ire at being interrupted disappeared instantly, replaced by curiosity as her love begged her to get the rest of the week off work and leave as soon as possible. While something of a rebel in general she was, however, professional in everything she did at work, and had little intention of letting anyone down. Tim though, was very persistent, and despite not telling her what he had planned, all he would allude to was that they would be able to be together without being spotted, and would have the time of their lives. In the end, it proved too much of a temptation. She asked him to phone back in fifteen minutes, which he duly did, by which time she'd booked the days off and arranged for someone to cover all her training commitments. On recounting this to Tim, he told her to get home as quickly as possible, and that he'd pick her up in an hour.
"Oh, and as well," he added, "don't forget to pack your passport." To say this piqued her interest was a massive understatement. Doing exactly as he'd said, not eight hours later they arrived in Florence, Italy. That had been two days ago. The whole thing had been a whirlwind of epic proportions, but as Richie stood, scantily clad, at the window, looking out over the Arno River with all its rich history, it occurred to her just how happy and contented she felt. Like everyone, she'd experienced perfect moments... who hadn't? But most of them had occurred in the middle of frantic lacrosse matches: sprinting down the wing towards the opposition's goal, ball cradled tightly in the head of her stick, hair flying out behind her, the sun shining through the clouds, terrified looks etched across the faces of her onrushing adversaries... PERFECT! Or dropping her shoulder one way and then diving the other, dummying with her stick, her rival falling for it big time. Continuing on her run, beating one, two, three more, until catching sight of the ball and knowing just what to do... Drawing her stick back, picking the exact spot, and then unleashing the single most ferocious shot of her life, to win the single most important match of her life... PERFECT! She could go on, of course, but you get the idea. Here she was, however, breathing in the refreshing Florentine air, the early morning sounds of the momentous city's hustle and bustle drifting up to greet her ears. Sighing softly, more out of contentment than anything else, she heard the bed rustle behind her. She turned to see Tim sitting up, smiling in her direction. A serene feeling of peace and tranquillity washed over her. Leaving the window open, she bounded over to the bed and threw herself into his waiting arms, as the bells of The Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore reverberated around the city.
* * *
By the time the friends arrived home, news of what had happened in New Zealand was everywhere. It was the only subject of interest on the monorail carriages that they'd been in, as well as across all the stations, not to mention every single telepathic paper. Questions were supposedly being asked at the highest level... How did it happen? Who would do such a thing? Is it likely to happen again? Can safety be assured at other laminium ball matches? All these, plus the obvious questions about Steel's wellbeing. The outpouring of anger over the incident paled in comparison with the well wishes the Indigo Warriors superstar had received from around the world. Ordinary and famous dragons alike had left messages in telepathic get well books across the world, some of which had made it into the telepathic papers. The mood of the dragon world was one of shock that something like this could happen, anger and rage at whoever was behind it, and pride at the bravery and selflessness of Steel's heroic deeds.
Sitting on the concourse, enjoying a bite to eat, the friends had just disembarked at Pudding Lane and were waiting for the arrival of their monorail. All three had faraway looks on their faces, due to the fact that each of them was currently reading a different telepathic paper. For Peter, it was his usual 'Daily Telepath'. Tank was enjoying 'Sol', while Flash had taken to 'Speculum'. Each paper had its own take on the previous day's events, but none could sum up the terror the three of them had experienced. Again, it was Flash who'd saved them, like the calm in the middle of the storm, like the cool eye of a hurricane. As tons of rock and rubble fell all around them he, using all his experience and acumen, guided all the dragons around him to safety, once or twice throwing out minor mantras to deflect barrages of stone and debris. As well as his actions, what made it all the more impressive was his humility afterwards, not wanting any thanks from others he didn't seem to think that he'd done anything special. Both Peter and Tank were glad to be able to call him their friend.
Halfway through a paragraph outlining Steel's current condition, Flash felt the tiniest of niggles towards the back of his mind. Pausing momentarily, he searched for the cause of the interruption. It didn't take long to find it. In another part of his rather open plan mind, an image had appeared and was currently jabbering away. Dispensing with the paper, Flash zoomed over to take a look at this unusual development. On closer inspection, the image appeared to be the king, albeit in his human form, presented in some kind of hologram, waving this way and that, continuously talking. Scanning the image from all sides, it was only when Flash dived inside with his mind that he found the words 'The Date Of The Battle Of Pucallpa' reading vertically from
top to bottom.
'Uhhhh?' was Flash's first thought. But then he recalled one of the long conversations he'd had with the king on first arriving at his private residence. It had turned out that the king, just like Flash, was something of a history buff and liked nothing more than discussing historic events and battles that had taken place, dissecting them in microscopic detail, even speculating on what would have happened had the outcome been different. They'd both spent many a night doing just that, when the King's schedule allowed it, with Flash being more than a little intimidated and nervous at first, but quickly put at ease by the king's pleasant manner and welcoming demeanour, after which both dragons had gone on to express totally opposite points of view. They hadn't done that in a while, with Flash knowing full well it was because of the king's mountain of work that he had to get through. He missed those nights. But his mind, having wandered off a little, returned to the holographic inscription. As he read it again, it was all he could do to keep himself from laughing. And it would look very odd to everyone around if he suddenly burst out laughing in the middle of reading about the laminium ball disaster at the monorail station. Fighting back a smirk, he thought about the words. 'The Date Of The Battle Of Pucallpa.' It had to be a message, something that only he would know, a kind of kingly encryption.
Recalling a conversation on one of those late nights about Pucallpa, there had been no battle there, but the premise had centred around 'if there had been'. Pucallpa, a beautiful city in Peru, almost became the turning point in a South American Crusade in the late 18th century, but for a brilliant seek and capture initiative led by the famous dragon lawmaker, Alvin Comet. Nailed into history as one of the most audacious tactics ever to be played out, the capture of two of the most dangerous rogue dragons to have inhabited the world in centuries led to the cessation of hostilities and in turn spared tens of thousands of lives. Alvin Comet's name will forever be remembered in dragon lore. But Flash and the king had liked to play the 'what if?' game. During those late night discussions, both dragons had begun speculating about what would have happened if the capture of the dark dragons had never occurred. After much argument and discussion, both reached roughly the same conclusion, albeit they got there in rather different ways, the result being that the war to end all wars would have taken place, in Pucallpa! Hence the cryptic message.