by Paul Cude
"Looks like the job's yours."
"WHAT?" remarked Richie, sure she'd misheard.
"YOU! You're our leader."
There it was again. It occurred to her then that perhaps she was dreaming. There really weren't many other explanations left. And of course it would explain everything else away. That's it, she was dreaming.
"You don't seem to believe me little one, but I assure you... that's the decision we've made. We were all agreed... you're the best dragon for the job."
Running both hands through her brown, curly hair, she thought about the implications of what the dragon had just said. Moments later, she reluctantly came to the same conclusion. Perhaps, after all, she was the best choice. But to make the best choices from here on in, she needed information. And she needed it now.
Flash traversed the rivers of blood, swimming submerged well beneath the surface, on the lookout for something specific, but so far he'd seen no sign of it. With as much speed as he could muster, he pushed on.
'It must be here somewhere,' he thought, turning a sharp bend and then plunging headfirst into a steep downward slope. Thick, gooey red liquid closed in all around him.
It seemed she had little or no choice. Standing here arguing with a group of dragons could easily waste hours, if not days. So, although reluctant, she made the decision to accept what had been thrust upon her. With the decision made in her mind, she turned to address the group of dragons, and began doing what needed to be done.
"I need to know how all this started," she asked first of all. "But before one of you fills me in, are there any healers amongst you?"
Three dragons towards the back of the group raised their wings high above their heads.
"Can the three of you help with the healing please? The two over there that were being tortured look in desperate need of your help. Please, they're my friends, help them if you can. If two of you could do that, then perhaps the other could take a look at the old dragon over there, the one surrounded by the group of humans. And just so you know, that dragon is Gee Tee, the master mantra maker, and he's the one responsible for this rather unconventional rescue."
All three nodded, and after a brief discussion, two headed at top speed towards Flash and Tank, while the other shot off towards the old shopkeeper.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself down, Richie's heart was still beating furiously, so much so that she could almost feel the adrenaline pumping away inside her.
"So," she said, addressing the remaining group, "who can tell me how this all started?"
Just as he was starting to question whether or not he should give up, Flash caught a fleeting glimpse of what he was looking for. Up ahead, just for a second, he'd seen the tiniest blue spark, dancing around erratically, exactly what he'd been taught to find. Although only his mind wove throughout Tank's battered and bruised body, it felt as though the rest of him was there as well. And as such, he had to throw all his body weight to his right to continue following the tiny blue glimmer. Thick red blood sloshed all around him as he sought another glimpse of the spark.
'There,' he thought, aware of everything around him. Again he used his weight to change direction, this time to the left, and instantly found himself falling. Strangely, the sensation reminded him of flying. Sadness enveloped him, at the thought of something he loved so much that he almost certainly would never experience again. Distracted, he almost lost focus. Almost, but not quite. Hanging on for all he was worth, he was determined to redouble his efforts and save his friend. But he was tired, and getting more so with every passing second. Moments later he realised he had nowhere near the reserve of strength it was going to take to catch the spark, the spark that held Tank's consciousness, the spark of life that made him who he was. Darkness started to shroud his vision.
"I'm so sorry," echoed out from the chapped lips of his tortured body, as tears ran across the deep cuts on his face.
Quietly and calmly, against the backdrop of the frozen Casey, dragons recalled the events leading up to the battle in the bazaar. They told how it had started with deception, one at a time. For two of them, dragons they didn't recognise had knocked at the door, claiming to be disorientated and confused. Of course they'd let the dragons in, why wouldn't you? But by then it was too late. Overpowered and overwhelmed, they found themselves bound and restrained. That's how it had started. After that, the dragons had moved on to the next house, and then the next. After the dragons had left, human shapes had come to march them to the bazaar. They looked human, but felt so utterly alien, dark, cold hearted and almost like they were trying to slither into your head. Amazingly, nearly all the dragons Richie quizzed used the word "slither". It seemed to her to be more than just a coincidence. As they continued, Richie began to get an idea of the much bigger picture of what had happened. They were all rounded up and taken to the square. Some were beaten ruthlessly, others killed without thought. Retaliation was not an option. As that was going on, some of the human shaped beings built the construction that Tank and Flash had been suspended from, with the occasional aid from a dragon guard or two to weld the metal together with the charged heat from their fiery breath. What astonished Richie the most as she listened, was the sheer scale of what had happened. Enemy dragon guards alone must have measured in their hundreds, with the human shaped enemies numbering even more. It was a bold move, and really quite staggering. It was also... unthinkable!
Continuing to methodically describe what happened next, the dragons mentioned a sort of human, not like any of the others, marching into the square, surrounded by a ring of guards and other unusual beings. The human shaped being, for they couldn't get a sense of what he really was, limped badly and was aided by a rather stunning looking walking stick. Immediately, she knew who it was, but waited for the dragons' descriptions to have her worst fears confirmed: stocky, receding brown hair, with soul destroying eyes.
'MANSON!' was the only thought that buzzed through her head. It wasn't just tears she fought back as the story continued, but the fear that threatened to inundate her very being. It was hard to believe he was even still alive, but of course it would explain so much. And with his previous form, the threat was ever more real. She knew just what he was capable of, with destruction, murder, and even mass murder a very real possibility. On top of all this, each one described a dragon, albeit in human form, being carried in a sedan chair by two other humans, who looked old, tired and barely awake for most of the time. But from the way he was looked after and addressed occasionally, they had to assume he was important. Things had just gone to a new level, and it wasn't only their lives on the line.
About to pull his bleeding hand away from Tank's battered body and sever the connection to his friend once and for all, suddenly he was engulfed in... energy. From being slow, sluggish, weary and on his last legs, he went to being renewed, invigorated... as full of power as it was possible to be, instantaneously. Thanking everything he knew that he hadn't cut the connection, with his new found energy and resolve he was confident he could achieve what he'd set out to do. At the back of his mind, swimming just beneath the well of energy he was drawing on, he could feel two dragons sharing their power with him, offering him hope and help, encouraging him with everything they had. It was a selfless gesture, with Flash realising it must have been two from the group of local residents that had surrounded Richie. Briefly, he sent them a message of thanks, on top of which he told them what he was going to do. They didn't fully understand, but waves of support emanated off both of them. Without further ado, he closed his mind to everything else and once again found the little blue spark that was his friend.
The group of friends made way for the hulking great dragon that not a moment before had been amongst those surrounding Richie. Skidding to a halt, he then plodded forward, his giant feet making a slapping sound against the dark cobbles of the bazaar.
"So, little ones," he remarked, in a much softer voice than anyone would have thought possible. "What do we have here?"
&
nbsp; Janice stepped forward to speak.
"Uhhh... his name is... Mr Gee Tee."
Throwing back his head, the dragon healer chortled uncontrollably. Moments later, he calmed down and looked at the startled, but beautiful blonde human.
"I don't think his name is Mr anything," he said, deeply amused. "But I know who he is, unlike all of you. Perhaps you could tell me what you've been doing for him?"
Hook stepped out.
"We've just been making sure he's been breathing really. That's all."
"Well, if that's all you've done... you've done a terrific job," answered the dragon.
A visible sense of relief rolled off the group. Just for a moment they thought they might be in trouble.
"Truth be told," declared the healer, "there isn't much else you could do. But what you've done is more than enough. I just hope that we're able to revive him. I hear he was responsible for this most dramatic of rescues."
Simultaneously, the friends all nodded.
"Because I think it's only fitting that he should witness the results of his outstanding and rather unconventional plan. Don't you?"
As the tiny, blue spark flittered about in the upper part of Tank's lungs, Flash's consciousness had it cornered.
'And now,' thought Flash, 'it's time.' Feinting one way, he knew full well the spark would leap the other. Sure enough, it did, but Flash was ready and dived headlong straight into the middle of it. A resounding ringing tone thumped Flash's ears, as more darkness encroached. It was also noticeably cold on the inside. Pushing all that to one side, having carried out his mission and reached his destination, it was now time to act. With all the willpower he possessed, and drawing on the well of energy provided by the healers, he opened the floodgates and started pouring it all into the spark, all the while sending hot, fiery thoughts through his subconscious. Fireballs, meteors, bubbling lava, a candle's flame, a roaring fire, a barbecue, a dragon's breath and finally a jumbo sized bonfire, were just some of the images he managed to bombard the spark with. It was working, he could feel it, feel it getting bigger, brighter, stronger... warmer.
She'd thought the recounting of what had happened at first was bad enough, but what she was hearing now made her feel physically sick. One by one, the group took it in turns to describe how, as the captured dragons watched, surrounded by guards, four dragons were frogmarched into the bazaar, all beaten sickeningly, all wearing restraints. The first two described were obviously Tank and Flash and she heard how they were immediately hung from the now completed structure. The currently immobile Casey was described as begging the leader, who she was pretty sure was Manson, to let him use his whip on the two prisoners. After some deliberation, the leader with the walking stick gave in and agreed. Depicted in some detail was the look of pure pleasure on Casey's face when this had happened. Richie could feel her blood start to freeze. A calculated evil nibbled away at her. She had the power; it had been granted to her. And he was only a few yards away. She could make him pay, make him beg for death, make him... suffer. No one here would object, that's for sure. In fact, most would fully understand. All she had to do was say the word. It was all she could think about, that is until the dragons started to explain what the other two prisoners looked like. Heart racing, her throat ran dry and a dreadful feeling took hold in the pit of her stomach. From the descriptions the dragons gave, she knew that the prisoners could have been none other than Peter and Tim, and there was no doubting the malice and intent with which they'd both been greeted by Manson. Her mind pondered this. She could understand Manson's interest in Peter given their history, but what did he want with Tim? In theory, he shouldn't even know who Tim was. It was after all, a closely guarded secret. But what if Manson knew? What if he knew that Tim was the dragon from the prophecy? What if he knew that the fate of the entire dragon domain was inexplicably linked to him? That feeling in the pit of her gut suddenly trebled in intensity.
'Things,' she thought, 'are looking worse than ever.'
And it might be that she was in charge of the only force capable of mounting a defence anywhere on the entire planet.
A tingling in his fingers signalled to Flash that he'd returned from his corporeal visit and was back firmly in his rightful place. Instinctively he pulled his hand away from his friend's devastated body. At least it should have been devastated and bloody, but it wasn't. Tank's body was covered in scars, bruises and bumps from the beating he'd taken at the claws of the brutal Casey, but the blood, the open wounds and the oozing welts had all disappeared. Flash was more than a little perturbed, as the little he'd been told about the task he'd just carried out seemed for all intents and purposes to save only the dragon's spirit, its soul, in a time of desperate need. He'd heard nothing to indicate that the dragon in question would be healed or even brought back to full health. Was it something he'd done? Perhaps a side effect produced by the other dragons sending him their power? Whatever it was, it was a welcome sight. As he knelt on the smooth dark cobbles, he just wished his friend would open his eyes.
Waiting patiently, the group of dragons expected some sort of response. Her mind hurriedly tried to process everything she'd been told. It appeared from what the captives had overheard, that Peter and Tim had been taken along with Manson. While they couldn't be entirely sure, a couple of the dragons had thought they'd heard the word 'London' mentioned. Ever more concerned, she tried to put the pieces together.
'What fate awaits Peter and Tim, goodness only knows,' she thought. 'But if Manson and his... army (yes, there are definitely enough of them to be classed as an army, and those are just the ones we know about) are on their way to London, it can only mean one thing: they plan to take over the entire dragon world, capture the council and the king, plunging the whole planet into chaos, and... BOOM! The earth's as good as theirs.' For the first time in her entire life... she felt genuinely scared. And not just a little. With fear pushing her on, her mind ran through every different scenario, every different plan, all the resources available to her.
'If it's a battle Manson wants,' she thought, 'a battle he will have.'
A racking cough spluttered from Tank's bruised mouth. Spittle shot up like a little fountain, before his eyes opened wide. The first thing he did was try to sit up. Before Flash could get there, a scale covered arm shot out, gently stopping Tank from sitting completely upright.
"Easy my friend," said a soft comforting voice. "Try and get your bearings first. Know that you are in safe hands, and there's no immediate threat." Carefully, Flash grabbed his friend's hand and pumped it gently. Tank looked over at Flash and nodded gratefully, seemingly aware of what had gone on. Flash smiled in return, glad his friend had survived. In all his life, he couldn't remember a time when he'd been more relieved. Releasing Tank's hand, he made to stand up.
"Not so fast, master of some very unusual knowledge," uttered one of the two healers.
Flash turned to face him, a puzzled look strung out across his bruised features.
"You're in no condition to go anywhere," announced the other dragon.
Opening his mouth, about to protest, the other healer shushed him before he had a chance.
"Just give us a couple of minutes, and then you can go. There's nothing you're needed for that can't wait that long."
Recognising a losing battle when he saw one, Flash nodded his agreement. Before his head had even finished moving, he felt a rush of warm energy wash across him. It was the best feeling he'd felt in days, no weeks, perhaps even longer. Sitting down, he watched his arms, legs and chest as the bright red blood retreated back inside his falsehood of a body, the gaping holes and rips slowly knitting themselves back together. Marvelling at just how good the healers were, he knew that even in the Crimson Guards they'd never had healers this accomplished. The speed with which they were repairing his and Tank's body beggared belief, even for him. So remaining sitting next to Tank, his mind wondered what was going on elsewhere, not only here, but across the entire domain. Thoughts turned to the king
and the debt he felt he owed his monarch, hoping with all his heart he'd get the chance to repay it.
As they sat, Flash explained everything he knew about what had happened, well from his point of view anyway. At the first mention of Gee Tee, Tank was eager to get up and go over to the old shopkeeper. But the two healers waved him to sit back down, saying all would be done in just a few moments more. Reluctantly he complied. Gazing off into the distance, he could just make out Richie surrounded by some of the local dragons who he vaguely recognised. Not able to guess what was going on, it did however feel good to have his friend back where she belonged, even if her DNA suggested she shouldn't be here. A short smile drew across his face at the thought of that. At least Richie was a dragon, unlike their other visitors. The king and the council would have a fit when they found out. He'd only ever heard of the odd human ever stumbling across the domain, by complete and utter accident. When it did happen, as expected, there was uproar. It was all over the papers, a hot topic for the dragon councillors, and there were always calls for tighter safety regulations. Inevitably things always died down after a few days, until it happened again. But he'd never heard anything about a group of humans making their way in. And despite the fact that they'd initiated a rescue that had ultimately succeeded, and had saved a considerable number of dragon lives, he had no doubt at all that somewhere along the line, there would be hell to pay.
Both healers slumped to the ground, exhausted, their work done. Flash and Tank both rose to their feet, thanking the spent dragons profusely, before heading off in the direction of Richie and the group of local dragons. Nodding to each other, the two healers recognised the quality of the work they'd done. It had been decades since either had practised any healing at all, and both were slightly taken aback at producing what was probably their best ever work.