Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

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Bentwhistle the Dragon Box Page 194

by Paul Cude


  "Uhhhhh... where am I?"

  As if to remind him, half a dozen bright violet energy missiles streaked against the shield Richie was still holding in place.

  "What in the name of...?"

  "It's okay Flash... you're safe for the time being."

  "YOYO!"

  The prehistoric healer smiled at the mention of his name, despite everything going on all around them.

  "Uhhhh... I remember being tagged by some sort of magic I've never seen before. It hurt like hell. Did you manage to rid me of it?"

  "In a manner of speaking... I had to fabricate you a new leg."

  Looking utterly aghast, all Flash could manage was,

  "WHAT?"

  "It's a long story, youngster, but needless to say you should be as good as new. And while we're on that subject, is there anything you wish to tell me?"

  Fretting about his leg, Flash couldn't work out what his friend was going on about.

  "No... I don't think so."

  "You should know that I've used up every last ounce of magic that the laminium chains were imbued with, healing you and the others. I didn't think it would use up every last drop, but it did and I'm truly sorry, my friend."

  "You shouldn't have to say sorry for once again saving my life. The debt I owe you seems to mount up every time we meet."

  That made Yoyo chuckle.

  "It certainly seems that way, doesn't it?"

  "That it does, that it does."

  "Good enough. Now there's no time to spare. I think your particular talents are needed if we're to stand any chance at all of getting out of here in one piece."

  Gingerly, he stood, tentatively putting pressure on what had been the damaged leg. Surprisingly, and it shouldn't have been like that after the way Yoyo had previously saved his life, it felt perfect, as if nothing bad had ever happened to it. Turning towards his friend, he mouthed a great big, "thank you," before disappearing off in the direction of Richie, Peter and Janice.

  Standing in front of them all, holding off the approaching horde of evil, Richie gripped the priceless laminium dagger with all her might, despite the fact that its hilt glowed red hot, currently burning the skin on her hands. That's how much magic she was drawing from it, and that's how much it meant to her to protect everyone she loved.

  "Let me help you?" whispered a soft, familiar voice in her left ear.

  Glancing back, she was pleased to see one of her two best friends standing there beside her.

  "I don't think there's much you can do right now Pete. If I stop for even a moment, I don't think I'll be able to get the shield back up."

  "But it's burning your hands!"

  "It's a small price to pay."

  Knowing that to a certain degree she was right, after all without the shield they would all probably have been captured by now, he knew he still couldn't stand there and just watch. Thinking about what he'd done only moments ago with the young injured dragons, the hockey player within him closed his eyes and sought out his friend, which given she was standing right next to him wasn't that difficult. Slowly at first, he began to dribble a small amount of healing energy into her hands.

  Having been fighting the pain for some time, it came as a pleasant surprise when it started to desist. It took her a few moments to work out what was going on, but she couldn't help smiling when she did. Peter!

  "Where did you learn that?"

  "Back in the nursery ring... did you skip class that day?"

  "I think I'd probably already graduated by then. Didn't they keep you behind for an extra decade?"

  "Oh... ha ha!"

  Pouring as much healing magic as he dared into his friend, for her part, she just stood and lapped it up. Half a minute later, her hands were fully repaired, with the dagger having cooled down considerably.

  Abruptly, something slapped Peter really hard on the back.

  "What have I missed?" bellowed a smirking Flash.

  "FLASH!" cried Peter.

  "FLASH!" exclaimed Richie.

  "FLASH!" declared Janice.

  With Richie unable to, both Janice and Peter hugged their friend tight, pleased to see him in one piece and back in the fight.

  "How's the shield holding up Rich?" asked the ex-Crimson Guard.

  "Okay for now, but it's consuming an awful lot of magic. Reserves in the dagger feel like they are well below fifty percent."

  Flash nodded his understanding. It was a worry and quite a prolific problem, but difficult to know how to solve given their current circumstances.

  "Any other imminent threats I need to know about?"

  Richie swallowed uncomfortably, knowing that she would have to tell them about her misjudgement.

  "When I raised the shield, I totally forgot about those three," she said, nodding out beyond the transparent protective barrier.

  All three of them turned to face the direction in which she'd nodded.

  To their horror, they could make out George and Fredric, just being joined by the naga king.

  Flash's heart jumped up into his mouth, particularly when he spied the new aerial force heading their way at speed. If he didn't do something immediately, two very different realms would each lose their king.

  Cauterising wounds, knitting bones and internal organs back together, Yoyo seemed to have a production line of casualties. It was hard going, and not just because of the dangerous situation they all found themselves in. It wasn't as if he was the youngest of them here either, quite the opposite in fact, and that at this very moment contributed greatly to his concern. He felt tired... truly tired, more tired than he could ever remember being, with his limited supply of magic feeling as though it were nearly depleted by everything he'd done so far today, and he still had charges that needed his care. As well, he'd been paying attention to what had been going on around him, just as his experience had taught him to do. The young girl that had been ostracised, Richie Rump as she was known, had been doing a fine job of protecting them all and keeping them safe, but he'd done the math and knew that the laminium in that dagger would only keep powering the shield they all hid behind for a limited period of time. By his best estimate, they didn't have much time left at all. What they'd do then was anybody's guess. And so with what little magic and mana was left within the group being consumed at quite a rate, a concerned Yoyo redoubled his painstaking efforts to get his charges back on their feet, pushing away the nagging worry at the back of his mind, that he'd gotten them involved in something that would ultimately lead to their untimely demise.

  43 I Love you! I Know!

  The security presence was much bigger than any of them had anticipated. So far they'd passed through three outer rings, each made up of about twenty dark dragons or nagas, most in their natural forms, with the occasional human shape thrown in for good measure. Passing near enough to smell the rotting body odour on most of these false figures, the three infiltrators found it impossible to discern from which race they originated. Luckily for them, they didn't need to know. All they had to do was maintain their stern faces and throw in the occasional nod. So far, it had seemed to do the trick. Reaching an unguarded section of darkened corridor on their journey towards the main control room, DomCon tried to lighten the mood.

  "I feel like Boba Fett having just captured Han Solo in Cloud City."

  "Does that make me Darth Vader?" asked Jar Man sarcastically.

  "If I had to choose... I'd say you were more like Chewbacca," replied his friend.

  "Really?" whispered Jar Man, tilting his newly formed head to one side inquisitively.

  "Because of the smell," chuckled DomCon.

  "Who cares about that?" declared Steel softly. "I'm Han Solo!"

  "How do you even know about Han Solo?" asked Jar Man. "After all, you laminium ball players haven't been taught how to assume human form and aren't allowed anywhere near the surface."

  "Not that this is really the time, but it might surprise you both to know that a great deal of laminium ball players are fasci
nated by the humans and the earth's surface. There are some very unscrupulous black market dragon traders that, for a price, will deliver pretty much anything you want. And don't forget... currency for us is no object."

  "And so where do you fit into all of this?"

  "I do love their films and books. To say I have a modest collection of each might be something of an understatement."

  "NICE!" exclaimed DomCon a little too loudly.

  "Since we all seem to be on the same page with this, I think that each of us should adopt these names as a pseudonym from now on," suggested Steel.

  "Just call me Boba," stuttered DomCon, totally in character.

  "That'll make me Chewie then I suppose," grumbled Jar Man light-heartedly, the creases in the forehead of his false form squidging together.

  "Again... who cares? I'm Han," added Steel.

  And as quickly as it had arrived, the merriment was over, with all three dragons getting their serious game faces back on.

  Not so far away, the master mantra maker and the rest of the light sided infiltrators packed up their things and prepared to move out. In the depths of the shadows, the wily old shopkeeper delved deep into the secret pouch that circled his all encompassing belly, checking to make sure the single most important item they were carrying as a group was still there. It was! Glancing down at his masterpiece of magic, much as a parent would at their precious child, he marvelled at the sparkling, golden sheet of parchment, watching with awe as the rainbow array of colours swirled gently across it. Splicing with Tank had been as good as it could get, as far as he was concerned, and that day would be etched in his memory for as long as he remained alive, which in his case might not be that long at all. Taking one last look before shutting the pouch tight, he swore to himself there and then that he'd get the job done and unleash the mantra across the entire crystal node network in an effort to halt the nagas' nastiness.

  As the group of humans finished the snacks they'd been provided with and took one last sip from their water bottles, the lumbering form of Gee Tee wandered silently up the debris strewn corridor towards them, occasionally stumbling over rocky wreckage and scraping his tail against what remained of the walls. Each and every one of them knew there should be noise accompanying his actions and found it more than a little odd that there wasn't, despite the fact that they'd had some time to get used to it.

  "Ahhh... my human friends. How are you all doing?"

  "Uhhh... okay thanks," volunteered Angela.

  The others all nodded.

  "Good to hear, good to hear. Now... I just want you to know that nobody expects a repeat of the heroics from Salisbridge. Songs will be sung about what you did there, should we turn the tide of evil away and regain control of the planet. Your bravery and courage are the reason we've got to this point. Without all of you, everything would already be lost. So... find somewhere to stay safe. If you see an opportunity to help out and use your remaining grenades... do so! If not, help in any other way you can. Nobody expects you to go into battle against a horde of malevolent dragons with just your bare fists. Use your heads."

  Having felt lost and alone for the most part, with Tank, Richie and Hook all missing, the four surface dwellers all broke into huge smiles simultaneously at the dragon shopkeeper's kind words.

  "I must go now... they expect me to be on the front line when things kick off. An old dragon like me... whatever next?! So I shall bid you goodbye and good luck. You've all been a credit to your race and I hope that after this is all over, we can share a drink or two. You have my thanks for what you've done so far."

  And with that, the gentle prehistoric giant, turned and walked noiselessly away.

  Checking the straps on the bandoliers that held their grenades in place, Emma and Angela valiantly held back tears, while Sam and Taibul stoically chose to just let the master mantra maker's words sink in. It was hard for each of them to believe they were actually here and not in some kind of abstract dream that they would wake up from any second now. The true danger of what they'd wound up amongst was only really starting to become apparent now, which in itself was odd given everything that had happened below ground back in Salisbridge. Outnumbered, outgunned, outdragoned but not to be outdone, they'd all contributed to something that had not just saved the lives of their friends and the other dragons, but may just have tipped the scales in the battle for the planet. But it had all been achieved on instinct, adrenaline, surprise and a blind loyalty to the human Richie Rump, someone who, at the time, they'd all have laid down their lives for. To find out she was a dragon was gobsmacking to say the least. Unfortunately though, she wasn't here now, despite all four of them yearning for her. With her around, failure was impossible to comprehend. Each of them had wished her luck when they'd parted. Angela and Emma missed their friend and captain awfully and often wondered where she was, what she was doing, and whether or not all of it was a lie, the whole 'lacrosse' thing, the 'let's be friends' thing, and the 'I can behave in any way I want' thing.

  With signs of movement up ahead in the cool darkness, she pushed aside thoughts of her friend, instead choosing to fully focus on her family. If things went wrong, would they know what happened to her? Would her body ever be found? Would her part in the story of saving the planet ever be told?

  Seconds later a low, guttural grunt from one of the dragons somewhere down towards the front signalled it was time to move out. Taking up their positions some way down the line of battle ready creatures, the four of them followed the gigantic beasts out into the darkness, unsure of what was to come, knowing that all they could do was their best. But would it be enough?

  Following the dark, rocky corridor around a right hand bend that almost had them doubling back on themselves, Boba and Chewie stared straight ahead, while Han's head focused firmly on his razor sharp talons, as they approached a towering stone door, guarded by about a dozen deadly dark dragons.

  "Password?" demanded the dragon in charge.

  'Uh, oh,' all three of them thought at once, as the guards eyed them suspiciously.

  "D... d... d... do y... y... you reaaallly think weeee've gooot time for th... th... th... this?" stuttered DomCon doing a great job of keeping in character.

  "Password!" demanded the guard once again.

  This was going to hell, and they hadn't even made it into the inner sanctum yet. If they had to fight here, they'd alert every single guard in the compound to their presence and the party would be over before it had even started. Worse still, those inside could potentially destroy the crystal node, foregoing any chance at all of letting the world know exactly what was going on.

  'Calm,' thought Steel. 'Remain calm.'

  As sweat dripped from places he wasn't even aware he had, Jar Man had a decision to make. Knowing only too well the importance of getting them inside, and exactly how much depended upon it, he took the biggest gamble of his life and, strolling up to the dragon in charge, mustered all the strength he had and hit him as hard as he could.

  CRASH!

  With almighty speed the guard hit the wall, sending chunks of masonry flying every which way. Instantly the others adopted fighting stances, drawing their weapons, readying their magic, prepared to attack at a moment's notice. Before they could, Jar Man let rip.

  "You insolent little whelp! I should pull your head off and poo down your neck."

  Dazed, barely able to think straight, it took everything for the dragon in charge to sit up straight.

  "Don't you realise just who we have here? Look at him! Don't you know?"

  Swallowing nervously, the dragon on the ground had at least for the time being lost control of events playing out around him.

  "This is Steel... one of their most famous laminium ball players!"

  "Ohhhhhhhh!!" came out of the mouths of two other guards, clearly a sign of recognition.

  "And you know what that means?" continued Jar Man.

  The dragon captain continued to look stumped.

  "Laminium ball players
are renowned for their aerial skill and dexterity. Almost certainly he's been sent to scout ahead, find out the full extent of our force and capability, before reporting back. With that being the case, time is of the essence, which I would have thought would have been plain to see. And you think I have time for passwords? I need to inform the hierarchy NOW! Not in an hour, not in thirty minutes, not in thirty seconds. NOW! Let me in immediately or you'll know the real meaning of the word suffering."

  Steel was more than impressed with the strawberry blonde dragon he now thought of as Chewie. And so with Jar Man maintaining his facade of righteous anger, and DomCon continuing to snarl at the lot of them, they waited to see what the outcome of their outrageous bluff would be.

  In less than five seconds they had their answer.

  "WELL?" screamed the guard captain in the direction of those under his command. "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? LET THEM IN!"

  Lowering their lethal looking weapons, two dragons opened up a hidden control panel and began punching in two different sequences of numbers. On completion, a huge ROAR of stone on stone assaulted their ears as the giant door in front of them started to swing open. Maintaining their defiance, the two dragon friends marched their prisoner into the darkness beyond at their earliest opportunity.

  Once the massive, eighty foot door had slammed closed behind them, making sure there was nobody within earshot, Steel turned around to face Jar Man.

  "I love you!" he whispered, adding a conspiratorial wink for good measure.

  "I know!" replied the strawberry blonde dragon hiding in human form.

  DomCon chuckled.

  44 Pain Relinquishing the Chain

  Deep in the midst of the magical mayhem, three beings huddled together, concern for one of their number the prevailing feeling amongst them.

 

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