Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  "While dragons and nagas loitered with impunity throughout the complex, it would appear that two beings obviously disguised as humans seem to command the respect of all the others. I couldn't tell what they were exactly, but at one point while I was camouflaged they came within mere metres of me, allowing me a detailed look at their faces, and letting me hear their voices, albeit at a whisper."

  Gee Tee, Jar Man, DomCon and a few of the other dragons listened as Steel continued.

  "Whilst I could only follow them so far, due to the high concentration of guards, it was quite clear that these two commanded not only respect, but a certain amount of fear from every being around them. They also seemed intent on regularly patrolling the outer perimeter of their captured camp."

  "So what was it you had in mind?" asked the master mantra maker, intrigued to hear what the laminium ball player had planned.

  "Just before we hit them with the full force of everything we have, I thought we could go in, neutralise these two beings, get Jar Man and DomCon here to take their places, and then with me as their prisoner, stroll right into the building, making a big show of me... their prize."

  "Hmmm... not bad, not bad at all. Did you get a clear and detailed look at their faces? This will only work if our two friends here can mimic them right down to the very last detail."

  "I did," replied Steel confidently. "From almost as close as you are to me now. I can show them everything they need to know for their human disguises. The big question is... will the two of you do it?"

  Jar Man glanced over at his much smaller friend, an unseen message sent with just a look. DomCon nodded eagerly in response to his friend's enquiry.

  "We're in," announced the strawberry blonde dragon. "It's about time those scum sucking cockwombles were taught a lesson. Share their details with us."

  Gee Tee and the other dragons shuffled back out of the way, leaving Steel, Jar Man and DomCon sitting together. Leaning forward, the courageous laminium ball captain craned his neck out into the space between them. The other two did the same, and with their foreheads almost touching, closing his eyes, Steel racked his eidetic memory for the images of his enemies. On finding them, he opened his mind and shared them with his two allies. Jar Man and DomCon absorbed every detail, right down to the creases in the forehead of one and the slight, almost imperceptible, stutter of the other. Knowledge shared and a plan in the making, the three sat back, letting the others rejoin them.

  It was then that the mischievous shopkeeper added an extra special ingredient to the ever developing plan.

  "There's a little something that might help you out in a pinch, laminium ball boy," quipped the master mantra maker.

  "And what's that?" replied Steel, deciding to play along.

  "This one's for you and you only. And it's powerful... beyond belief. If used in conjunction with all your will, it most certainly will have the desired effect." Locking away his magic so that he was able to pass on the words of the mantra without unleashing it to devastating effect, Gee Tee passed on his wise words of wisdom.

  "VENTOSUS FUROR!" he ventured, only to Steel.

  "Never heard of it," stated the laminium ball captain.

  "I wouldn't have expected you to," scoffed the shopkeeper. "It's old, positively ancient in fact, and has only come to light quite recently. I've kept it to myself... but no longer. I realise now that the magic and knowledge I possess should be out in the open, shared for all of us to use. It's something I've not done in the past. I've squirrelled things away, kept them secret, to myself. I now know that to be wrong. But this piece of magic is especially powerful and should be not be used in anger or as a last resort. It needs to be thought out before it's let loose."

  "What does it do?" enquired Steel, as the others listened eagerly.

  "It will cast a powerful explosive wave that will run riot."

  "Something we've all done at some point," ventured Jar Man sarcastically.

  "Of course," declared Gee Tee. "But not quite on this scale. The concussive wave will shred anything in its path. What makes this one special though, is that you can set the arc of the wave before it's unleashed. If, when you set it off, you picture a full 360° arc, then that's the course the magic will follow, destroying everything in its path. For us today, that would be catastrophic because it would destroy the crystal node, something we can't afford to do. But if you know where the node is, you can purposefully leave a gap in the circle of the wave, making sure none of the magic is released in that direction. It just needs to be pictured in your head before you set off the mantra."

  "Nice!" exclaimed Steel.

  "It should be enough to take out a whole host of them once you're in there. You just need to make sure that these two," indicating Jar Man and DomCon with a nod of his head, "are standing between you and the crystal node. That way they won't be affected by the blast wave and you'll take out more of our enemies. Sound helpful?"

  "Certainly does."

  And with that, they all spent the next hour refining exactly what everyone's role was and just what time their attack would take place. Things were coming together.

  40 You Can Choose Your Friends but Not Your Family

  RELATIONSHIPS! That's what EVERYTHING boils down to. LIFE is about relationships. It might be between you and your favourite knife that you use to chop up the vegetables for dinner. It might be a special pen to write with, or your bond with a pet. Me? It's the relationship I have with my hockey stick. I might go months without picking it up or even seeing it. But it's with me all the time, an extension of my arms, occasionally invisibly strapped across my back, informing my decisions, influencing all of my actions, guiding me in everything that I do. Relationships, good or bad, are the key to EVERYTHING everywhere. Right at this very moment, that couldn't have been more apparent.

  Fredric's heart soared up into his mouth, goosebumps racing down the bulging muscles of his arms as he set eyes on the king, his long time best friend. Anger flared at seeing him like that, but before it had a chance to consume him, another figure caught his eye. Having not seen him for decades, it seemed inconceivable that he could possibly recognise him now, here, in this state and in his human form. But recognise him he did. PETER, his grandson, bound and restrained by those that were about to pay! How was he even involved? Taking in the measure of the boy he'd give his life for, one of the two beings that just the very thought of had kept him sane over all this time, hoping against hope that somewhere in the future he'd get the chance to meet them again, these weren't the circumstances he'd hoped to do it in. Joy coursing through him despite the dire situation he found himself in, the very essence of his being roared in delight at finding both of them. And that's when it all changed and his heart turned BLACK! Not just any black, but the darkest, coldest black that had ever existed. Shivers replaced the goosebumps. His stomach rolled, and despite not having eaten for weeks, nausea threatened to drop him to his knees. What he was seeing just wasn't possible. Everything had to be an illusion. It had to be a nightmare, and he must still be back chained to that icy wall in Antarctica, he just had to be. Because there was no way fate would conspire to put him in a reality this bad. It just wasn't possible.

  Still coming to terms with the surprise of the wormhole appearing in the middle of everything, it was then that she locked eyes with one of the new arrivals. A man mountain of a being, whose worn face was framed with dirty, matted long hair, the muscles of his bare torso wrapped in chains, glistening in the low light of the private residence they all found themselves in. Recognition wasn't instant. It took her a few seconds before she realised their connection. But that was all it took before the anger and hatred deep down inside her blossomed into life, fuelling her rage, stoking her revulsion and disgust, contorting her face into the very picture of abhorrence. It all flooded back. How he'd followed her from their home to the bar full of Nazis in the small piazza in Barcelona. The German psychopaths had nearly done her a big favour that day, but as per usual he'd escaped by the sk
in of his teeth. Luck nearly always seemed to be on his side. It was then that the unexpected memory returned, one that had been blanked out, no doubt through magical trauma. She remembered him slipping through the fire escape at the back of the hotel in Germany, his back exposed, concentrating as he should on the threat in front of him. It felt as if it were only yesterday, so vivid were the images deep within her. Savouring the satisfaction before unleashing the magical hell she had planned for him. But before she could finish the job, he began to realise something was wrong. In that instant she set free her magic, determined to take him down once and for all. And that's where the memories ended. It was a total blank. Up until now, she hadn't even thought about the man staring across at her. It was almost as if every last detail of him had been locked away deep within her mind and his appearance here and now had acted as the key, allowing her access to everything, in particular the raw emotions of just how much she hated him for holding her back. Knowing that somehow she'd failed on that dark, wet night in Germany acted only as a catalyst for her determination. She wouldn't fail again. Today, here and now, he would once and for all... DIE!

  Joy at finding his best friend and grandson was tempered with all the pain and sorrow it was possible for one being to experience. Standing over them, shrouded in crazed madness, his daughter, Earth, eyed him from across the room. In all his time in incarceration, he'd never experienced such pain, such heartbreak. Despite his heroic, tough looking exterior, inside he was close to imploding. To see his daughter, the love of his life, a woman who'd not only broken his heart, but had tried to kill him on more than one occasion (yes, that's right, his memories of that fateful evening in Germany had flooded back, and now he could clearly see her reflection, about to let loose her magic, in the brilliant sheen of the car he'd cowered behind) standing over not only the king, but his grandson and her son, was nothing short of the ultimate torture. Anger, pity, shame and the sharp stench of failure threatened to gobble him up. If he'd done a better job with her upbringing, been a better father, then just maybe none of this would have happened. They wouldn't be standing here right now. How many lives would have been saved... hundreds, thousands, more? Tears blurred his sight as his hands started to shake uncontrollably. Try as he might words eluded him as the raw emotions whistled round inside his human shell, effectively neutralising him. His comrades in arms had no idea that one of their own had, at least for now, been taken out of the game.

  Deep within her mind, the babbling had almost reached fever pitch. Fu-ts'ang was beside himself, and despite not being able to understand everything he was saying, she got the general gist of it and, like the ancient weapon, she too was beside herself with joy at seeing the mighty form of Flash at the front of the party that had arrived through the magical vortex, which had now disappeared. Although she didn't know any of the others, she did at least have something now that she'd thought she'd lost for good. HOPE!

  A cold shiver raced down his spine... never a good thing for any dragon, anywhere, but here and now it seemed appropriate. This wasn't caused by the sheer terror he felt at the situation they all found themselves in. NO! It was his reaction to the arrival of the group that had mysteriously appeared through the magical gateway which had now vanished. Seeing Flash ensconced in what looked like laminium chains, accompanied by a whole group of other dragons, and Yoyo hiding out of the way at the back, buoyed his spirits considerably, despite the fact that a magnificent, regal looking naga slithered forward at the front of the group. And then the hammer came down and hit him, almost shattering his reality. Next to Flash, another human shape stood balanced and ready for action. Taut muscles gleamed as shaggy, matted hair drifted slightly in what little breeze blew around the private residence. An instant familiarity prevented Peter from taking his eyes off the... WARRIOR! That really was the only way to describe him as far as the young dragon was concerned. Rough around the edges, bruised and beaten even, but the strength and power radiating off him looked nothing short of legendary. And that's when he knew. Knew that Flash had been to Antarctica and achieved the impossible in rescuing not only the naga king, but his grandfather, Fredric! That was who he currently couldn't take his eyes off. Something, somewhere deep inside him urged him on, urged him to rally against what was happening, now that help had arrived. And with that little nudge, something he'd previously forgotten about sprang to the front of his mind. The alea! Unbelievably it was still dangling around his neck, his captors having made the mistake of not taking it off him. If he could break it when things kicked off, and he had no doubt now that they would kick off like there was no tomorrow, then just maybe he could play a part in whatever would happen. Closing his eyes, he pushed thoughts of everything else away, and focused on only one thing. How could he possibly break the alea and free the magic inside it that had remained dormant for centuries?

  Ears ringing, Tank shook his head vigorously, trying to regain some sense of what was going on. In less than a minute, things had all but turned on their head. From out of nowhere help had arrived in the form of Flash and a whole host of others. That they must have succeeded in Antarctica was the only conclusion to be drawn. And if that were the case, the stunning looking naga at the head of the group must be the naga king, and the no nonsense, tough looking human shape just had to be Peter's grandfather and founder of the Crimson Guards.

  'My God, how on earth have they achieved such a feat?' he wondered briefly. But now was not the time. Much as he was glad to see his friend and the reinforcements that accompanied him, he had no doubt that a battle to end all battles was only moments away. Part of him hoped that Manson, that evil witch and the rest of the wickedness that pervaded this place would surrender. Realistically though, he knew it would be a cold day in hell before that happened. Swallowing nervously, mentally he tucked away his fear and tried to prepare himself for everything that was about to unfold.

  Anger, adrenaline, passion and rage could no longer be contained, not that they necessarily had been. Watching Tim's murder had flicked a switch somewhere inside her. To be honest, it hadn't taken much. What she'd done to Casey back in Salisbridge had left her feeling tainted. Touched by darkness which had continued to consume her on the solo journey that had led her to this point, in killing Troydenn, she'd felt nothing. Well... strictly that wasn't totally true. There'd been a rush, so brief she'd almost missed it. Momentary exhilaration had been replaced by a deep seated satisfaction, not at the act itself, but at exacting revenge on the dark dragon from another time.

  What was odd though, was Manson's reaction. She'd been watching him in her peripheral vision, hoping against hope for some kind of response, assuming all along that he'd been bluffing. On enacting the deed, there'd been no sign of remorse or anything remotely resembling sorrow from him, only a smug satisfaction, and she could be sure because she knew that look, and the feeling, well.

  'Strange that Manson would want his father dead,' played over and over in her head, almost taking her mind off the approaching enemies. Flash's timely arrival had given her moments of breathing space, allowing her to expunge at least a small part of the darkness that had taken her, allowing her for the first time since her lover's death to see the situation for what it really was. Before she hadn't cared, wanting nothing more than to take as many of them with her as she could; now though, she could see a way out, a way her friends could survive this, with some semblance of normality a possibility for the rest of the planet. But the one thing it wouldn't be was easy, even with the added assistance of the mighty Flash and the add-ons he'd brought with him. Momentarily she wondered exactly what he'd been through. To be here, now, and achieve what he had was nothing short of miraculous. Indeed he was a legend and songs should be sung about the ex-Crimson Guard. But they were some way off songs being composed. First they had to fight, fight for their lives, for their domain, for their planet. And so with the lacrosse player deep within her screaming out that they needed to work together, light pushed away the darkness as she sought eye contact with t
hose she needed to keep her on the straight and narrow.

  From behind his ragtag bunch of young dragons, proud and terrified in equal measure, Yoyo sized up the situation that they had stumbled into the middle of. Instantly he recognised Peter, despite his horrific injuries, standing next to a nightmarish, witch-like figure, purple lines dissecting her face, madness and insanity radiating from her eyes.

  'Tank looks in better shape,' he thought, before clapping eyes on the king, a broken and beaten dragon. Aware of just how dire things appeared, he found his composure, readied a number of healing mantras and said a brief prayer, to whom, he wasn't quite sure. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

  Ready to send the signal to those under her command, Amelia Battlehard's breathing had decreased to all but nothing in an attempt to focus fully on what was unfolding. It is not a well known fact, but dragons can slow their heart rate and stop breathing for almost ten minutes if they have to. Of course all of King's Guard had trained at this over and over again at the academy, but it's not something that presents as useful in real life. Well, not up until now anyway. Another reason for holding her breath was the dull, black blade that rested against the scales lining her throat. Worried that the slightest movement on her part could result in a separation of her head from her body, it was abundantly clear that the deadly looking swords were sharper than a razor. In the moments since the newcomers had shown up, she'd figured out how she'd get out of her hopeless situation, or at least how she'd try. Readying the signal, she tapped into the mana that flowed throughout her prehistoric body and prepared to let loose what she hoped would be a rather unpleasant surprise.