“Gleep!”
A familiar head snaked into view from around Chumly’s hip to peer at me quizzically.
“You were a big help!” I snarled, glad for the chance to vent my pent-up nervous energy.
“Gleep,” my pet responded, hanging his head.
“Here, now,” the troll chided. “Don’t take it out on your mate, here. He got surprised, that’s all. Can’t blame him for getting a little spooked under fire. What?”
“But if he hadn’t ...” I began.
“Now are you ready to get rid of that stupid dragon?” Aahz demanded, joining our group.
“Don’t take it out on Gleep,” I flared back. “He just got a little fired is all.”
“How’s that again?” my mentor blinked.
“Gleep!” proclaimed my pet, unleashing his tongue on one of his aromatic, slimy licks. This time, to my relief, Aahz was the recipient.
“Glaah!” my mentor exclaimed, scrubbing at his face with the back of his hand. “I may be violently sick!”
“The Beast’s just showing his appreciation for your saving his master,” Chumly laughed.
“That’s right,” I agreed. “If you hadn’t ...”
“Forget it,” Aahz waved. “No refugee from a wine-making festival’s going to do his dance on my apprentice while I’m around.”
For once, I knew what he was talking about. “‘Refugee from a wine-making festival,’ that’s pretty good, Aahz,” I grinned.
“No it wasn’t,” my mentor snarled. “In fact, so far this afternoon, nothing’s been good. Why are we standing around talking?”
“Because the first play’s over,” Chumly supplied. “Also, I might add, the first score.”
We all looked down field toward our goal. The field was littered with bodies, fortunately theirs, not ours. Whatever had happened, we had given a good accounting of ourselves. Stretcher bearers and trainers were tending to the fallen and wounded with well-practiced efficiency. The players still on their feet, both on the field and on the sidelines, were dancing around hugging each other and holding their index fingers aloft in what I supposed was some sort of religious gesture to the gods. Badaxe was sagging weakly against one of our four goalposts while Gus fanned him with his wings.
“The score,” the troll continued casually, “is nothing to nothing to one ... against us. Not the best of starts, what?”
For one instant I thought we had scored. Then I remembered that in this game, points are scored against a team. Therefore “nothing to nothing to one” meant we were behind by a point.
“Don’t worry,” Aahz snarled. “We’ll get the point back, with interest! If they want to play rough, so can we. Right?”
“Quite right,” Chumly grinned.
“Ummm ...” I supplied hesitantly.
“So let’s fire up!” my mentor continued. “Chumly, get Gus and Badaxe up here for a strategy session. Kid, get back on that dragon and this time try to stay up there, huh?”
I started to obey, then turned back to him. “Ummm ... Aahz?”
“Yea, kid?”
“I didn’t say it too well a minute ago, but thanks for saving me.”
“I said forget it.”
“No, I won’t,” I insisted defiantly. “You could have been killed bailing me out, and I just wanted you to know that I’ll pay you back someday. I may not be very brave where I’m concerned, but I owe you my life on top of everything else and it’s yours anytime you need it.”
“Wait a minute, kid,” my mentor corrected. “Any risks I take are mine, understand? That includes the ones I take pulling your tail out of the fire once in a while. Don’t mess up my style by making me responsible for two lives.”
“But Aahz ...”
“If I’m in trouble and you’re clear, you skedaddle. Got it? Especially in this game. In fact, here ...”
He fumbled in his belt pouch and produced a familiar object. “Here’s the D-Hopper. It’s set to get you home. You keep it and use it if you have to. If you see a chance to grab Tananda and get out of here, take it! Don’t worry about me.”
“But ...”
“That’s an order, apprentice. If you want to argue it, wait until we’re back to Klah. In the meantime, just do it! Either you agree or I’ll send you home right now.”
Our eyes locked for long moments, but I gave ground first. “All right, Aahz,” I sighed. “But we’re going to have this out once we get home.”
“Fine,” he grinned, clapping me on the shoulder. “For now though, get on that stupid dragon of yours and try to keep him pointed in the right direction. We’ve got some points to score!”
WE NEEDED to score some points, and to do that, we needed the ball.
That thought was foremost in my mind as we lined up again. One way or another, we were going to get that ball.
When the whistle sounded, I was ready for it. Reaching out with my mind, I brought the ball winging to my grasp. Before our team could form up around me, however, the whistle sounded again and the Jahk in the striped tunic came trotting toward us waving his arms.
“Now what?” Aahz growled. Then aloud, he called, “What’s wrong, Ref?”
“There’s been a protest,” the referee informed him. “Your opponents say you’re using magik.”
“So what?” my mentor countered. “There’s no rule against it.”
“Well, not officially,” the ref admitted, “but it’s been a gentleman’s agreement for some time.”
“We’re not gentlemen,” Aahz grinned. “So get out of our way and let us play.”
“But if you can use magik, so can your opponents,” the striped tunic insisted.
“Let ‘em,” Aahz snarled. “Start the game.”
A flash of inspiration came to me. “Wait a minute, Aahz,” I called. “Sir, we’re willing to allow the use of magik against us if, and only if, the magicians do it from the field.”
“What?” the ref blinked.
“You heard him,” Aahz crowed. “If your magicians join the team and take their lumps like our magician does, then they’re free to use whatever skills and abilities they bring onto the field with them. Otherwise they can sit in the bleachers with the spectators and keep their magik out of it.”
“That seems fair,” the Jahk nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll so inform the other teams.”
“I say,” Chumly commented as the referee trotted off. “That was a spot of clear thinking.”
“Tactically superb,” Badaxe nodded.
“That’s the kind of generalship that beat Big Julie’s army,” Gus supplied proudly.
I waved modestly, but inside I was heady from the praise. “Let’s save the congratulations until after the game, shall we?” Aahz suggested icily.
It was an annoyingly accurate observation. There was still a long battle between us and the end of the game, and the other teams were already lining up to pit their best against our clumsy efforts. In grim silence, we settled down to go to work.
I won’t attempt to chronicle the afternoon play by play. Much of it I’m trying to forget, though sometimes I still bolt upright out of a sound sleep sweating at the memory. The Jahks were tough and they knew their business. The only thing holding them at bay was the sheer strength and ferocity of my teammates and some inspired magik by yours truly.
However, a few incidents occurred prior to the game’s climax which would be criminal neglect to omit from my account.
Gleep came of age that afternoon. I don’t know what normally matures dragons, but for my pet adulthood arrived with the first play of the afternoon. Gone was the playfulness which led to my early unseating. Somewhere in that puzzling brain of his, Gleep thought things over and arrived at the conclusion that we had some serious business on our hands.
I, of course, didn’t know this. When the ball ended up in my han
ds, I was counting on my other teammates for protection. Unfortunately, our opponents had anticipated this and planned accordingly. Three players each swarmed over Aahz and Chumly, soaking up incredible punishment to keep them from coming to my support. The two Riders converged on me.
I saw them coming and panicked. I mean, the Cat was faster than us and the Bug seemed invulnerable. Frantically, I looked around for some avenue of escape. I needn’t have worried.
Instead of bolting, Gleep stood his ground, his head lowered menacingly. As the Cat readied itself for a pounce, my pet loosed a jet of fire full in its face, singeing its whiskers and setting it back on its haunches.
I was so astonished I forgot to watch the Bug moving up on our flank. Gleep didn’t. His tail lashed out to intercept the armored menace. There was a sound like a great church bell gonging, and the Bug halted its forward progress and began wandering aimlessly in circles.
“Atta boy, Gleep!” I cheered, balancing the ball on his back for a moment so I could thump his side.
That was a mistake. No sooner had I released the hold on the ball when one of the Jahks leaped high to pluck it from its resting spot. I took a swipe at him with my staff but he dodged to one side and I missed. Unfortunately for him, the dodge brought him within Chumly’s reach.
The Troll snaked out one of his long arms over the shoulder of a blocker, picked up the ball carrier by his head, and slammed him violently to the ground.
“Big Crunch catch,” he called, winking at me.
The ball carrier lay still, and the stretcher team trotted onto the field again. The lineup of players on the sideline had decreased noticeably since the game started. In case you haven’t noticed, things were pretty rough on the field.
“Tell me I didn’t see that,” Aahz demanded, staggering to my side.
“Um ... Chumly’s tackle or Gleep stopping the two Riders?” I asked innocently.
“I’m talking about your giving the ball away,” my mentor corrected harshly. “Now that the dragon’s coming through for us, you start ...”
“Do you really think he’s doing a good job?” I interrupted eagerly. “I always said Gleep had a lot of potential.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Aahz growled. “You ...”
“Com’on, you two,” Gus called. “There’s a game on.”
“Got to go,” I waved, guiding my pet away from my sputtering mentor. “We’ll talk after the game.”
Our defense finally solidified, and we meted out terrible punishment to any Jahk foolish enough to head for our goal with the ball in his arms. We even managed to score some points, though it took a little help from my magik to do it.
The first point we scored was against the Veygans. It was a variation of Aahz’s original “divide and conquer” plan. The Veygans had the ball and were bringing it downfield when we plowed into them at midfield. As per my instructions, I waited until the brawl was getting heated, then used a disguise spell on Gus, altering his appearance so he looked like one of the Ta-hoe players, complete with a spiked helmet. Having been forewarned, the change didn’t startle him at all. Instead, he started dancing around, waving his arms wildly.
“Here!” he shouted. “I’m open! Over here!”
The ball carrier was zigzagging desperately with Aahz in hot pursuit. He saw an ally in a position to score and lobbed the ball to him without breaking stride. Gus gathered the ball in and started for the Veygan goal.
“Double-cross!”
The first shout was from Chumly, but the Veygus players quickly picked it up. Spurred by indignation, they turned on the Ta-hoe players who a moment ago had been their allies. The Ta-hoers were understandably surprised, but reacted quickly, defending themselves while at the same time laying down a blocking pattern for Gus.
The Veygan Castle had been up-field when the play broke, but the goal-tender braced himself as Gus swept down on him. The only pursuit close enough to count was Chumly, who appeared intent on hauling down the ball carrier from behind. At the crucial moment, however, he charged past the gargoyle and piled into the goal tender. Gus scored untouched.
“That’s zero to one to one now!” I crowed.
“Before you get too caught up in celebrating,” Aahz advised, “you’d better do something about that!”
I followed his finger and realized that fights were breaking out throughout the stands. It seemed the fans didn’t like the double-cross any more than the players had.
To avert major bloodshed, I removed Gus’s disguise as he came back up the field. Within seconds, the fans and the opposing teams realized they had been had. Hostilities between the rival factions ceased immediately. Instead, they focused their emotions on us. Terrific.
The uniform change bit had been effective, but with the new attentiveness in the opposition, I was pretty sure it wouldn’t work twice.
I’m particularly proud of our second goal, in that it was my idea from start to finish. I thought it up and executed it without the help or consultation of my teammates. Of course, that in itself caused some problems ... but I’m getting ahead of myself.
The idea occurred to me shortly after my staff broke. I was swinging at the ball when one of the Ta-hoe players somehow got his head in the way. He was sidelined, but I was left with two pieces of what used to be a pretty good club. As we waited for play to resume, I found myself marveling anew at the sheer size of our opponents and wishing we had bigger players on our side. It occurred to me, too late of course, that I could have used disguise spells to make our team seem bigger when we first appeared. Now our rivals already knew how big, or to be specific, how small we were, so that trick wouldn’t work.
I was starting to berate myself for this oversight, when the idea struck. If a disguise spell could make us look bigger, it could also make us look smaller. It was almost a good idea, but not quite. If one or all of us “disappeared” our opponents would notice immediately. What we needed was a decoy.
I found myself considering the two pieces of broken staff I was holding. There was a stunt I pulled once when we were fighting Big Julie. Then it had been a desperation gambit. Of course, we weren’t exactly cruising along now.
“Get the ball to me!” I called to my teammates. “I’ve got an idea.”
“What kind of an idea?” Aahz asked.
“Just get me the ball,” I snapped back.
I didn’t mean to be short with him, but if this plan was going to work, I needed all my concentration, and Aahz’s banter wasn’t helping.
Closing my eyes, I began to draw and focus power. At the same time, I began forming the required images in my mind.
“Head’s up, kid!” Aahz shouted with sudden urgency.
My eyes popped open ... and the ball was there. I wasn’t quite as ready as I would have liked to have been but the time was now and I had to go for it.
I’ll detail what happened next so you can appreciate the enormity of my accomplishment. In live time, it took no longer than an eye blink to perform.
Dropping the two halves of the staff, I caught the ball with my hands. Then, I cast two spells simultaneously. (Four, actually but I don’t like to brag.)
For the first, I shrank the images of Gleep and myself until we were scant inches high. Second, I changed the appearance of the two staff halves until what was seen were full sized reproductions of me astride my pet.
Once that was accomplished, I used my remaining energy to fly us toward the Ta-hoe goal. That’s right, I said ‘fly.’” Even in our diminutive form, I wanted us well above the eye-level of our opponents.
Flying both Gleep and myself took a lot of effort. So much, in fact, that I was unable to animate the images we left behind. I had realized this before I started, but figured that suddenly stationary targets would only serve as a diversion for our real attack.
It seemed to work. We were unopposed until we reached the Ta
-hoe goal. Then my mischievous sense of humor got the better of me. Landing a scant arm’s length from the goalie, I let our disguises drop.
“Boo!” I shouted.
To the startled player, it appeared that we suddenly popped out of thin air. A life time of training fell away from him in a second, and he fainted dead away.
With a properly dramatic flourish, I tossed the ball into the goal.
One to one to one! A tie game!
The team was strangely quiet when Gleep and I triumphantly returned to our end of the field.
“Why the long faces?” I laughed. “We’ve got ‘em on the run now!”
“You should have told us you had a gambit going,” Gus said carefully.
“There wasn’t time,” I explained. “Besides, there’s no harm done.”
“That’s not entirely accurate,” Chumly corrected, pointing up field.
There was a pile of Jahks where I had left the staff pieces. The stretcher teams were busy untangling the bodies and carting them away.
“He was trying to protect you ... or what he thought was you,” Badaxe observed acidly.
“What?” Then I saw what they were talking about. At the bottom of the pile was Aahz. He wasn’t moving.
“HE’LL BE all right,” Gus declared, looking up from examining our fallen teammate. “He’s just out cold.”
We were gathered around Aahz’s still form, anxiously awaiting the gargoyle’s diagnosis. Needless to say, I was relieved my mentor was not seriously injured. General Badaxe, however, was not so easily satisfied.
“Well, wake him up!” he demanded. “And be quick about it.”
“Back off, General,” I snarled, irritated by his insensitivity. “Can’t you see he’s hurt?”
“You don’t understand,” Badaxe countered, shaking his head. “We need five players to continue the game. If Aahz doesn’t snap out of it ...”
“Wake up, Aahz!” I shouted, reaching out a hand to shake his arm.
It was bad enough that my independent scoring drive had resulted in Aahz getting roughed up. If it cost us the game ...
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