Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  "Your father would be very proud," commented another voice from behind them, much too loud for Manson's liking.

  "Thank you," ventured Rosebloom. "It's my honour, like it was my father's, to help and serve."

  Manson turned to face his serious looking father.

  "We need to be quiet," he hissed, pointing up to some of the open windows around them all, "and we need to move swiftly and silently." The ancient dragon's face took on a look of thunder at being told what to do, but at least he had the common sense not to pick a fight in response, not here anyway. No doubt that would be something to look forward to later.

  With the woman joining them, Rosebloom led them past the fish and chip shops, across the main road, up a steep, narrow road, into a rundown ground floor flat. Off in the distance, the delicate sound of the dinghy's electric motor faded into nothing. A disguised being in human form held open the front door while they all filed past. Following Rosebloom through a deserted kitchen into a crowded open plan living room, a disjointed group of beings all rose to their feet as the submarine cohorts arrived. Quick, impromptu introductions were made by Rosebloom, something that Manson and Troydenn both seemed unimpressed with.

  "Who's that?" exclaimed Troydenn, pointing at a seemingly middle aged human lying on the floor off to one side, his throat cut.

  "The current occupant of the flat," answered the traitorous councillor nonchalantly. "I thought I'd secured his cooperation, but he had second thoughts at the last minute... something I'm assuming he's rather regretting at this very moment."

  Manson stormed right up into Rosebloom's face.

  "YOU ASSURED US IT HAD ALL BEEN PLANNED TO PERFECTION," he growled.

  "I... I... I... I... It has been," stammered the, by now, very nervous Councillor.

  "If this is your idea of 'planned to perfection', it makes me wonder what else there is that can go wrong," raged Manson. "WE CAN'T AFFORD ANY SLIP UPS!"

  "The... the... there... wo... wo... won't be. It's all sorted."

  "Hmmmmphf!" snorted Manson.

  "I'm sure our good councillor here has everything under control," remarked Troydenn softly, patting Rosebloom gently on the shoulder. "In that, I don't doubt he's just like his father. And I'm particularly sure he hasn't forgotten what those misbegotten, lying, cheating, thieving dragons did to his dear father, after all."

  "I most certainly haven't," fumed the treacherous councillor, simmering with anger.

  "Good," replied Troydenn, "because it's almost time for payback... for us all!"

  Manson looked on like a pent up raging bull. Timidly nodding, whilst still shaking, Rosebloom ordered the guards to pull back the dark green sofa that smelt deeply of cigarette smoke, to reveal a set of wooden steps disappearing off into the dark, rectangular hole.

  "And this is your idea of easy, is it?" sneered Manson, wondering how on earth they were going to get Troydenn all the way into the dragon domain down a stairwell.

  "It's only four flights," responded the quivering councillor, "and then there's a freight elevator we can use. The previous incumbent used it to transfer fresh fish into the domain. The elevator can easily take us all."

  "I hope so for your sake!" spat Manson, stomping off down the steps into the darkness.

  "Don't worry about him," reassured Troydenn, all the time watched by the woman. "He's just keen to get on with the next phase. As soon as we start that, he'll be much better tempered."

  The woman and the councillor both very much doubted that.

  35 Reunited

  Having reported in, he'd been told to get some rest. Although that sounded nice, it wasn't what he needed, particularly since he'd been away for so long. There was something more important, more primal, that required his time. So hoping for a little luck, he'd set out... and a short monorail hop and a quick walk led him to Camelot Arcade. Striding boldly forward towards the Mantra Emporium, something familiar begged for his attention. Stopping right in the middle of the deserted walkway, he screwed up his face, trying to seek out just what was wrong. Extending his senses, he searched further, deeper. But he could find nothing, no beings, no mantras... NOTHING! But his feeling of unease was off the scale bad. Looking around, he switched through his different visions, still having no luck. About to give up when it hit him, like one of Tank's brutal rugby tackles... that smell! It was the same smell he'd experienced when tracking across America, the same smell that haunted his Antarctic dreams... NAGAS! And they'd been here, recently. Sprinting the rest of the way, he darted through the door, ready for any eventuality.

  He was in luck, and needn't have worried.

  "FLASH!" shouted Peter and Tank simultaneously from the front of the shop, on seeing their friend.

  Concerned about his findings outside, Flash strode across the shop floor to greet his friends.

  "Hi guys," he said casually.

  From out of nowhere, a huge scaled beast rose up, off to one side.

  "Little one," exclaimed Gee Tee. "It's so good to see you. How have you been?"

  Flash smiled for what seemed like the first time in ages. How anyone could refer to him as 'little one' was quite beyond him, but it always felt just right when the old shopkeeper did. Anyone else might be offered an insight into his rarely seen temper, but not the master mantra maker.

  "Busy," replied Flash. "How are things here?" he asked, all innocent.

  "Just about the same as when you left," replied the old dragon. "Why don't we adjourn to the workshop, and we'll tell you all about it."

  "Sounds great," quipped Flash, being squeezed in a great big hug by Tank and Peter as he headed towards the shop counter.

  "Peter and I will get some hot charcoal on the go, unless of course you want something a bit... STRONGER!" suggested Tank to his boss.

  Not entirely sure about the amount of sarcasm that laced his words, the master mantra maker narrowed his eyes in the direction of his former apprentice, before replying.

  "Hot charcoal will be great." With that, he led Flash on through to the workshop.

  Peter followed Tank through to the small, well, not quite a kitchen, more like a cupboard, to help make the dragon's favourite drink. Flash and Gee Tee both flopped down into a couple of oversized chairs. Before Flash had a chance to say anything, the old shopkeeper came out with it.

  "Something's bothering you. What is it?"

  "What makes you think that?" replied the ex-Crimson Guard.

  "Because when you came flying in, you were in combat mode... ready to fight. Am I wrong?"

  Flash swallowed, annoyed at being caught out, supposing he shouldn't have been, because there was so much more to the old dragon than any of them knew, that was for sure. The more he hung around him, the more that always seemed to be the case. Looking around to make sure Tank and Peter were still out of the way, he leaned forward, his chair scooting closer to the master mantra maker as he did so.

  "You're not wrong. When I was outside, I sensed something, something unusual, something I've sensed before, and something that I've been hunting in North America."

  "Over the past couple of weeks, something odd's been going on. I'm not sure what exactly, but I do know the shields protecting this place have been tested on a number of occasions, mainly late at night it would seem. At first I thought it might be dragonlings up to some mischief, but the more it's happened, the more I'm convinced that it's something else. I've tried to set traps for whoever's doing it, but much to my surprise they've managed to circumvent them. Whoever it is, they're good, I'll give them that."

  Flash nodded, scratching his stubbly chin in thought.

  "I think perhaps you should let me take a look at those shields and see if there's anything I can do to reinforce them. At the very least I can check to see if there are any weak points."

  "That would be much appreciated. Thank you."

  "And just why do the shields need checking?" asked Tank from the doorway, where he stood with Peter, both holding gigantic mugs of steaming hot charcoal.
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br />   Gee Tee and Flash looked guiltier than children sneaking a peek at their Christmas presents.

  "Perhaps you'd better come and sit down," suggested the old dragon.

  They did so, doling out the drinks on the way. Gee Tee then explained what had been going on, with Flash offering up his thoughts on things. When they'd finished, and before Tank could chastise the master mantra maker for not telling him before now, Peter cut in.

  "There's something else you should know, something that might be related to all this."

  This got everyone's attention, because it wasn't often the young hockey playing dragon spoke up.

  "Over the last few weeks, I keep thinking I'm being watched, followed sometimes. I know it sounds stupid and I don't have any defining evidence to back it up, but I'm sure it's happening. Sometimes it's when I'm walking, often when I'm in the car. I honestly don't think I'm wrong about this."

  Of course the old shopkeeper and Tank already knew about this, but it was news to Flash, who ran through everything he'd heard. It all sounded like nagas. They were, after all, masters of disguise, it had been claimed even more so than dragons. Despite the fact that his friends would almost certainly ask, he'd been determined not to reveal what he'd been doing in his time away, even though they were probably able to guess. But everything he'd heard led him to believe these dragons could well be in danger, and that was something that changed everything. Only answering to the king himself, he knew he had a responsibility to protect the information that he'd gleaned. But also, he knew the king trusted these dragons not only with his life, but with the fate of the kingdom. Feeling more than a little uneasy about his decision, but given the situation they all found themselves in, he couldn't think of anyone else on the entire planet, with the exception of the monarch himself, that he trusted implicitly, so he swore them all to secrecy and told them. All of it. On learning about the sub, they were all absolutely flabbergasted and had a gazillion questions, pretty much as he had himself. Where were they going? What were they up to? Did the missiles on the submarine pose a threat? Who made up the group? Was there any way to destroy the submarine? What would happen if the humans found out that one of their most advanced weapons was missing? All these and more were questions that Flash had considered time and again, and he didn't have the answers. The king didn't have the answers. Whatever was going on was deadly serious, more so now with a nuclear submarine in play.

  With the four of them sitting around speculating on each and every question the missing submarine posed, time trickled into the early evening. It was only when Gee Tee gave a massive yawn that they noticed quite how long they'd been brainstorming for. Tank tried to rush the master mantra maker off to bed, but he insisted on staying while Flash checked the building's shields. Flash agreed that it would be good to have his opinion, much to Tank's dismay. But before they got on to checking the shields, the ex-Crimson Guard had a little bit of training for the two young dragons.

  "There are of course numerous ways of telling if you're being followed, the most common of which is an expanded web, which I'm sure you both know how to cast. However, the mantra itself is more than a little unreliable, particularly if your pursuer is a magic user. The spell itself is limited by height, and while a human would struggle to defeat something thirty feet high, it would offer little resistance to other beings, most notably dragons. It does have its uses though," offered Flash, the others all watching intently. "Adding 'lentesco' to the main body of the mantra gives it a whole new dimension, especially in a confined space. Let me demonstrate."

  Indicating with his index finger for Peter to get up, Flash moved out through the doorway beyond the counter. Closing his eyes, he put all his energy and belief into casting the expanded web mantra on the doorway through which he'd just walked. Moments later he opened his eyes and instructed Peter to walk towards him through the doorway. Tank and Gee Tee watched, fascinated.

  Peter knew what was going to happen. Well, he didn't, but he knew whatever it was, it would end up with him being hugely embarrassed somehow. How right he was. Walking through the door as if nothing were there (he couldn't see anything, it looked totally normal, despite him knowing otherwise), he abruptly felt as though he'd walked into a bath full of treacle. An invisible sticky mass clung to his face, arms, legs, midriff... everything. Instinctively he tried to raise his arm to pull the stickiness off his face. But that just made things worse; he got more and more tangled and more and more entwined. Frustrated, he tried to spin away... a fatal mistake. It was almost as if he were cocooned in stickiness now, a human shaped, dragon caterpillar, waiting to emerge.

  A suppressed giggle covered by a cough from the old shopkeeper was how it started. That in turn started Tank off, who guffawed with laughter. Flash just shook his head at his trapped friend, a huge smile woven across his face. Peter would have shaken his head at the predicament he found himself in, but he couldn't move... not even an inch. Every single part of him was fully immobile. Of course he could see the funny side and tried to laugh. But the stickiness that had enveloped his face prevented him from doing so.

  "So you see," said Flash from behind Peter's back, "by adding the 'lentesco' to the main body of the spell, the web becomes tacky, acting as an adhesive to whoever walks through it. I'm afraid it's only effective on magic users, and of course in time they would almost certainly be able to break free from its confinement. But not easily, or quickly, thus making this a good gambit to buy yourself some time in a confined space."

  Tank and his boss clapped. Peter didn't. Closing his eyes, Flash silently cancelled the mantra, allowing the previously captured dragon to drop clumsily to his knees. Offering out his hand, Flash pulled his friend up to his feet.

  "Sorry," he said, "but I knew you'd be a good sport about it."

  "Not to worry," replied Peter. "It was worth it to see how well the mantra works." On this they all agreed.

  Despite the fact that it was well into the evening now and Gee Tee looked more than a little fatigued, Flash continued to share his knowledge on all things spy craft, in an effort to help his friends stay safe. Over the course of the next couple of hours, they learned all sorts of new and wonderful mantras. Scale detection nets, perfect for the ceiling of any cavern to catch out dragons in their natural form. Shadow concealment mantras to blend seamlessly into any darkened area and disappear almost for good. Clothes changing mantras: walk around a corner in one colour, reappear in something completely different, guaranteed to fool all but the most experienced onlooker. Rapid aging mantras for when a quick escape isn't always the first choice: age rapidly and with the right accessories, i.e. a walking stick, glasses, scarf etc, and appear to be totally harmless and innocent. All number of perception pullers, where anyone who's looking in your direction gets their focus pulled away on to another target, which makes it doubly difficult to maintain focus, even for the most determined agent of chaos. Crackle tail: casting a tripwire that if activated will attach itself to the being and give off a sound and light show worthy of bonfire night. Anyone trying to be subtle will be lit up like a Christmas tree and flee in the opposite direction in no time at all. But Gee Tee could add another that even Flash, the ex-Crimson Guard, hadn't heard of.

  "This," announced the old dragon, "is called 'sand trap'. Lay it down in front of you on ground that you know your shadow must walk on. It is of course keyed to magical beings and once they set foot in it, every step they take is like walking in deep, soft sand. It will feel like they're sinking up to their knees in it and however hard they try, they won't be able to shake off that feeling. The harder and faster they move, the deeper they will sink. It lasts for about twenty four hours, so it's great to use to get away, or even turn the tables on said pursuer."

  Flash was impressed, and that took something extraordinary. It was a trick he would add to his repertoire straight away.

  36 Sandy Sabotage

  'You cowardly, cowardly, cowardly bucket of custard,' he thought to himself as the fine drizzle matte
d his hair, having just decided it was time to go home. He'd tried... he really had. But it was no good, he just couldn't do it, not after last time. Having planned it all out beforehand, how it would go, what he would say and how it would all be resolved in the happiest of endings... but he'd bottled it, lost any courage he might have had. It was all he could do not to cry.

  Standing at the end of her street, sheltering outside someone else's house using one of the giant trees as a makeshift umbrella, for over forty-five minutes, only a few moments ago he'd given up and told himself it was time to head home. It had all seemed like such a good idea, but not being able to go through with even getting as far as the door made him feel like such a fool. He missed her so much, even with everything else going on in his life. Everything felt in motion at the moment, like a tornado ploughing across the landscape, constantly turning up new things, changing the view, and not just for the better. But at the back of his mind, she was always there. Janice, the diminutive bar worker, beautiful, caring and kind, with those melting eyes and her drop dead gorgeous pout. He missed everything about her, the seductive whisper of her voice, the warmth of her hands, the smell of apples in her hair. It should have come as no surprise that he couldn't pluck up the courage to at least knock on the door, after all, this was the third time in as many weeks that it had happened. His darkened mood led him to wonder if she'd moved on with her life, found someone else, someone more suited, someone not a dragon. A tiny part of him hoped she had and that someone could make her happy and give her the life she deserved, but most of him hoped it wasn't the case, despite the fact he couldn't see how on earth they were ever supposed to get back together, especially after his last visit to her house, in which she'd made her feelings abundantly clear.

  Running his fingers through his tousled, damp hair, he was surprised at the amount of moisture there. He supposed he shouldn't have been, given that it had been raining on and off ever since he'd left his house. Needless to say, he wasn't looking forward to getting back. His home seemed so empty, mirroring the feelings inside him.