Monster School

by Green Dc

  ‘Good comeback,’ I said. ‘I think.’

  I still felt stunned that Deputy Mayor Klusk had blackmailed our near-brain-dead gang guy into spying on Greta and Stoker. But why? Zorg hadn’t answered that question, and likely couldn’t. All I knew for sure was the same deputy mayor, whose air force was bearing down on us, had also mortally wounded Kalthazari. I struggled to connect these impressive factoids.

  How could Zorg’s undoubtedly rambling reports have alerted Klusk to the possibility that a dragon would fly to battle for the first time in centuries? Even if the deputy mayor somehow deduced that, there was no way he could have prepared his monstrous missile in such a short time.

  Yet ready it was.

  I shook my head. I’d learned so much about Monstro City: just enough to realise I actually knew so very little.

  ‘Approach no further!’

  Kalthazari’s thunderous voice shaved months off my life expectancy.

  Greta’s emerald eyes shone. Her speakers worked perfectly.

  ‘This one bids you explain your intrusion in such numbers upon the lair of Kalthazari.’

  I peered around Jaak-Kalthazari’s claw. Hundreds of metres away, the goblin air force hovered in a cluster. Thousands of steely-faced riders on metal-beaked eagle-crones bore terrible weapons, plunder sacks and gigantic surgical tools – no doubt to carve Kalthazari’s dragonium scales from her flesh. Even if our ranks were suddenly, magically bolstered by Tessa, Scarab, Stoker, Weepnot, and even Erica, this cyborg horde would barely be slowed. Still, I hoped the raiders were feeling surprise, and not a little terror, at the appearance of a seemingly full-strength, near-full-sized dragon.

  The lead harpy rider spoke into a loud-hailer. ‘Empress Kalthazari, we grasped you got injured. We came ta offer aid.’

  ‘Aid?’ Kalthazari snorted. ‘This one observes no medics among you. Know that you resemble a raiding party! Know too that this one should, by rights, obliterate every one of you from her sky!’

  ‘Empress Kalthazari, we–’

  ‘Begone!’ Kalthazari boomed. ‘NOW! SkRikt!’

  Uh, oh. That last word didn’t sound promising. I looked up. Smoke wafted from the speakers. They were fried! Kalthazari would boom no more.

  We’d be equally fried if Bruce hit panic mode and started vibrating.

  I peered through the field glasses. Many goblins had broken ranks and were winging at top speed back to their quarter.

  The leader, however, seemed to smell a fanged rodent. He raised one arm, ordering his troops to hold their positions, and spoke into his loud-hailer. ‘Empress Kalthazari?’

  Clinging to the scaffolding with four legs, Bruce madly waved his other four legs to fan smoke from the burned-out speakers through Jaak-Kalthazari’s mouth.

  Some goblins pointed and screamed. Scores more broke away. The stupid raiders actually reckoned the smoke signalled an imminent fire-breath! They’d hit panic mode before Bruce!

  I covered my mouth to prevent hooting.

  Fear spread like the Necrotic Plague. Hundreds of goblins and harpies spun and fled until only the lead goblin and harpy remained. Hmm. Something familiar about that leader. He leaned over his harpy mount and whispered. Her metallic fangs flashed.

  I wished for a bow and arrows. Yet could I murder even a goblin raider?

  The harpy flapped – towards Jaak!

  ‘Bruce and Jaak are defenceless!’ I whispered to Greta. ‘What can we do?’

  ‘Pray.’

  The sound of scrabbling drew our eyes up. Zorg was scaling the main pole!

  ‘What are you doing?’ I hissed.

  Zorg ignored me, climbing higher and higher until the pole – and Jaak-Kalthazari – quivered. Raining scabs and grunts, the zombie clambered over Bruce’s head.

  ‘Floss your toes!’ the spider grated through his clamped jaws.

  Dropping to my back, I wormed underneath Jaak-Kalthazari and peered up. Greta wormed beside me. On the ‘front’ side, the harpy hovered five metres before the fake dragon’s ‘face’.

  ‘Oi!’ the goblin rider roared. ‘Yer no dragon!’

  Greta and I swapped glances, recognising the sneering voice of our old class-mate, Gort Klusk!

  ‘As I grasped from the lack o’ a dragon’s thinkin’ voice, this’s just some shape-shiftin’ trick!’ the cyborg goblin jeered. ‘Always wanted ta slay a dragon.’ Gort drew his sword, kicking his harpy forward. ‘This’ll be the next best thing!’

  ‘NO, GOBBIN!’ Zorg screamed, launching himself from the top of the main pole.

  Jaak swayed alarmingly.

  Gort swung his sword in a horizontal arc, slicing Zorg in two. The upper half tackled Gort, driving the goblin from his saddle.

  The pair plummeted.

  Greta pointed to the heavens. ‘The harpy flees.’

  I didn’t care. Zorg and Gort struck the ground at fake Kalthazari’s left foot. I ran to them. Gort Klusk lay twisted at an impossible angle, his neck clearly broken. The top half of Zorg lay face-down, oozing rotten guts and churning maggots.

  Ignoring the stench, I rolled the zombie over and cradled him in my arms.

  Upon the Earth Ocean, the sun’s reflected twin shimmered.

  Zorg croaked, ‘Iz Zorg being … worthy?’

  ‘That was the worthiest act I’ve ever seen! But–’

  Zorg smiled crookedly. ‘Be telling … Zcarab.’

  Tears fattened in my eyes. ‘Zorg–’

  ‘Telling!’

  ‘I … I will. I promise.’

  Zorg’s head lolled. Though his good eyesocket remained open, our zombie gang member would never see another bursting sunrise.

  Zorg was dead.

  Again.

  ‘May we who live prove worthy of his sacrifice.’

  25: LAMENTATIONS

  We breathed death and dust.

  I relished the pain sensation of driving my shovel into the hard earth. My chafed hand bled again, but I didn’t care. My eyes watered with the glare of dancing sun, but I didn’t care about that either.

  Greta had argued we should return the severed zombie corpse to his family in the Dead Zone. Yet as Bruce pointed out, Zorg’s family had been abducted by Klusk goblins to force Zorg to be their spy, and we had no idea where they were held prisoner. Anyway, as I pointed out, Zorg had died defending Kalthazari, so surely the zombie had earned a burial site upon the dragon’s mountain.

  Using recycled webbing, we lowered the halves of Zorg’s body into his final resting place, covered his eyesockets with coins and filled his grave with dirt and rocks.

  I stepped back, sweating and trembling. The others looked my way, expecting me to say something. I just wanted to curl up in the dust. But I owed Zorg, so I pushed words through my cracked lips.

  ‘Zorg was our friend,’ I began uncertainly. ‘Yeah, he often spoke of munching my brains. And yeah, he was a zombie, regarded by many as the lowest of monsters. But before that, he was a human teen. And no matter how much skin decayed from his zombie body, his chest still held the heart of a young man. A heart full of loyalty. And bravery. And love.’

  ‘And earthworms.’

  ‘Be quiet, spider,’ said Greta.

  My words emerged more easily. ‘Many times through this last long night, I doubted our quest. The cost seemed too high, with so many dying because of what we started.’

  ‘You mean, becoz of what you started.’

  ‘Be quiet, spider.’

  ‘Bruce is right,’ I said. ‘I am responsible. I am guilty. But we’ll – I’ll – deal with that later. Right now’s about Zorg.’ I gazed over the Mythic Quarter sprawling below. The distant beating of war drums resounded. ‘There’ll be more dying. And guilt. There’ll be more doubt. Yet Zorg never doubted. Yeah, he was a spy – but everything he did, he did for love. He helped save my royal kingdom. And Kalthazari. He did his best to save his family and show his worth to Scarab. And in the end, he died saving his friends, Jaak and Bruce. May we who live prove worthy of his sacrif
ice.’ One by one, I met my friends’ eyes. We all stood a little straighter. ‘Rest in peace, friend Zorg. Rest in peace.’

  Bruce dabbed a palp at his eyes. ‘Killer speech, grommet. One day you might even make a half-decent king.’

  ‘Thanks. I–’ I glared at Bruce. ‘Is that a hippocow leg you’re sucking on?’

  The spider shrugged. ‘It ain’t like Kalthazari’s gonna miss one itty bitty thigh.’

  ‘But you–’

  ‘Yo, I need more webbing! And that stuff ain’t growing outta my butt. Okay, technically it does. But Mega K’s h-cow still owns three perrrfectly usable legs – and that’s one more than the rest of you bipeds!’

  Jaak giggled, his loosely bunched dragon body reduced to the size of a wall tapestry.

  I sighed.

  A weary voice echoed: ‘Approach this one.’

  ‘You’re a moron!’

  26: CONSUMPTIONS

  Rounding the tunnel corner, we entered the presence of Kalthazari.

  The world’s last dragon sat, legs folded, claws resting in her lap. Though she’d been poisoned, and had shrunk to a lesser dragon phase to prolong her dying life, she remained no less than magnificent. Her eyes blinked open, revealing the colour and intensity of molten earth.

  ‘Know that this one would have you undertake a quest.’

  ‘A quest?’ groaned Bruce. ‘I’m sooo quested out.’

  ‘You mean, another quest?’ Jaak’s voice no longer quavered with fear. When Kalthazari’s silence continued, the shape-shifter whined, ‘Why us? Other than we’re the only non-dead creatures? You know, on this mountain. Besides a three-legged hippocow. And because you? You know, have no one else?’

  ‘Your poorly constructed sentences ring true, demon. Yet there is a more profound reason. Know that Monstro City is divided into quadrants which are in turn divided into towns and suburbs. This division motivates every species of monster to care only for its own kind. Yet here you stand, different monsters from different quadrants – even a human – working together for a common cause: combining your strengths to achieve what individually would be impossible. If Monstro City is to command a shining future, it must follow your example. In truth, this one’s quest is so important that, should you fail, Monstro City shall command no future.’

  ‘Zilch pressure, eh?’ said Bruce.

  ‘Will we be paid?’ asked Greta.

  ‘This one has let you live – unlike the inquisitive goblin professor.’

  Greta coughed and said nothing more.

  ‘My first quest was for my own species,’ I spoke up. ‘It was selfish, like you said, Kalthazari. To have a chance to do something for the living and unliving? Count me in.’

  The spider shrugged. ‘Beats legging home for the school hols to a shotgun-spinneret wedding.’

  Jaak nodded. ‘Tricking a gob army? That felt jazzier with Bruce. You know, backing me up. High above the mountain. I liked that, big time!’

  ‘Awww,’ said Bruce. ‘I’m blushing inside my exoskeleton.’

  Jaak continued. ‘Before I met you chums? I was just surviving. You know? Now? I’m living. You bet! This next quest? If it keeps our gang together? And me ahead of the bounty hunters? I’m in. You know, also.’

  ‘As am I,’ said Greta, ‘provided PT and Jaak desist from making such hideous speeches, and I continue earning 40 crowns a day.’

  I remembered Kalthazari’s words about how wealth alone never solved any of the world’s ills. But that was the traditional human solution: throw money at problems. I’d been exactly the same. Need Erica’s help? Bribe her. Need the Dead Gang on side? Pay them a daily wage. If the world was to become the different, better place Kalthazari spoke of, I had to start being a different, better type of king.

  ‘I’m sorry, Greta,’ I said. ‘But I can’t pay you for this quest.’

  ‘You are a moron!’ Greta bristled. ‘For the record, you would never have made it here without my breaking into Lord Boron’s computer and saving you from the delivery team goblins! Not to mention–’

  I lifted my arms in surrender. ‘I appreciate all you’ve done, Greta. And all your skills. As we agreed, you’ll be paid for our quest here. But on this next mission, I only want questers who believe in what we’re doing, rather than questers who are just here for the money.’

  ‘Gods of the earth and sky,’ Greta grumbled. ‘Thirty crowns a day.’

  ‘Zero crowns and one please.’ I forced a smile. ‘Our reward’ll be richer than any money. Please?’

  Greta rolled her eyes. Before she could fire a round of her trademark sarcasm, Kalthazari’s eyes pinned her.

  ‘You command contempt for humans, goblin, fathoming them to be weak and corrupt. Rare though they may be, know that there are humans who command heroic morals and strength. There has never been one of such renown in the goblin world.’

  Greta’s feet shuffled. ‘Enough with the ancient wisdom peer pressure,’ she grumbled. ‘Very well. Just don’t expect me to blather a sappy happy speech.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I reached out to pat Greta’s shoulder, then thought better of it.

  We were all in!

  ‘Know that, before this one’s spouse vacated this world, he removed our final three dragon eggs to secret locations across the quadrants of Monstro City.’

  ‘Why’d he do that?’ asked Bruce. ‘Do mama dragons scoff their babies?’

  Smoke clouds billowed from Kalthazari’s nostrils, reminding us she was, after all that had happened, still the most formidable monster alive. We coughed on rotten egg gas.

  ‘This one’s spouse feared that, in her loneliness, she would awaken her sleeping hatchlings too soon, thereby disturbing the already precarious balance of the world. Perhaps this one’s eggs are lost forever. Perhaps they have been destroyed, or used for dark purposes. Yet if this one is to endure – if this world is to endure – at least one egg must be found and hatched. This one yearns for her babies. She must pass on her knowledge. For we dragons are the blood of karma, the haemoglobin of magic, essential to the health of this planet’s very soul. In truth, in many ways, we are the Earth’s soul.’

  Only one thing to say to that: ‘Wow.’

  ‘Youngling king, you are the key.’

  ‘Me?’ I clutched my hands together. ‘You must mean my father, or–’

  ‘Silence!’ Kalthazari’s nostrils glowed. ‘You and your … gang must find and bring a hidden egg to this one.’

  ‘But you said you were dying, and the goblins will be back soon.’

  ‘Both true. Know that this one has absorbed the life essence of Weepnot to devolve herself and isolate the poison inside her. Yet the poison is aggressive and unnatural, almost alive, beyond this one’s fathoming. Her resistance cannot endure more than one twelfth of our planetary orbit.’

  Bruce rolled his eyes. ‘Ain’t you got nothing better to while away the millennia than peep up confusing and big-butted words?’

  ‘Translating from English to moron spider,’ said Greta, ‘the dragon means she will live for one more month.’

  ‘Aye. Know that this one must devote the majority of that time to a state of meditative hibernation. Thus, she shall be vulnerable. Thus, she cannot endure here. As for the goblins, this one no longer commands the potency to resist their war party, which returns as inevitably as flies swarm to a carcass. Once, this one could have levelled all of Monstro City, scorched the swamps to deserts, torn Castle Mount open as an enraged youngling would rend a sparrow’s nest. Now, she could be slain by a spear. Thus, when you find one of her eggs, you shall deliver it to the location where this one shall await – the Isle of Giants.’

  ‘The Isle of Giants?’ Bruce giggled hysterically. ‘You ain’t meaning the isle across the world’s gnarliest, monster-riddled ocean?’

  ‘Aye. This one commands strength enough to endure that flight but once. You must determine your own means of transport.’

  A thousand thoughts jostled for my attention. ‘But how can we, well–’r />
  ‘Silence.’ Kalthazari limped to her treasure pile. ‘This one requires sustenance.’

  Mouth gaping, claws out-stretched, the dragon fell forward. Her face sank into her golden mound. Massive jaws snapped open and shut, open and shut. Rasping metal screamed.

  We gaped and covered our ears.

  Kalthazari was gobbling her riches!

  ‘Morpho’s nostril-hairs!’ cried Jaak. ‘Doesn’t she know? You know, before swallowing? You’re supposed to chew!’

  My mind boiled like the lava lake.

  27: MISSIONS

  Kalthazari shovelled jewellery into her neck pouch until it bulged and overflowed like the world’s saggiest jowl.

  ‘Take-away?’ whispered Bruce. ‘Pennies ’bout to rain from heaven?’

  The great dragon rose, her stomach scales straining.

  And burped.

  The air quivered. Bats exploded from deep gloom.

  We breathed liquefied gold fumes.

  ‘You now fathom one of the seventeen secrets of dragons! We do not covet gold out of greed. Rather, we metabolise the element – and other precious metals – and convert them to dragonium and dragonite.’

  ‘What ’bout the zillion crowns worth of rubies, emeralds and diamonds you just chowed?’ asked Bruce.

  ‘Dragon spices.’ In Kalthazari’s eyes, shadows danced joyfully. ‘Treasure that has been lovingly crafted commands potent psychic resonance, and is all the more nutritious. Several days after this meal, this one shall defecate piles of steaming lead and urinate mercury.’

  ‘Too much info,’ whispered Bruce.

  ‘Know that this one appreciates your aid.’ Kalthazari waved one claw at the glittering mound that bore her impression. ‘This one bids you to plunder freely.’

  ‘Are you serious, dragon?’ asked Greta.

  ‘Know that dragons never jest. This one would rather bequeath her hoard than witness its ransacking. Yet beware: the more you plunder, the slower shall be your fleeing. And this one does not require the gift of foreseeing to fathom your futures shall involve much fleeing.’