Lex Trent: Fighting With Fire

by Alex Bell

  ‘No way you’d have let me die, seeing as you had no idea where the sword was!’ Jesse retorted.

  ‘Well, maybe I saved you because I wanted the sword, and maybe I saved you for your charming company!’ Lex snapped. ‘I guess now we’ll never know! No doubt you would have used the Binding Bracelets to switch places with me if you’d been given the chance to get your hands on any food!’

  To Lex’s surprise, Jesse looked utterly gobsmacked by this. Then he looked highly offended.

  ‘Hey!’ he said angrily. ‘Stealing the sword was one thing − it weren’t even yours to begin with − but letting you hang for my past is somethin’ else. The thought never even entered my head!’

  ‘Surely you can’t expect me to believe that?’ Lex snarled.

  ‘Will you two shut up!’ Jeremiah said loudly. He glared at Lex and said, ‘You dragged me here under false pretences! They weren’t about to hang Jesse because he helped you get into Dry Gulch House but because he double-crossed them; you weren’t interested in saving his life − you just wanted the sword; and I’m starting to think the cowboys weren’t the ones who roughed you up, either.’

  ‘No one roughed him up,’ Jesse snorted. ‘A chandelier fell on his head.’

  ‘Yeah, that sounds more like it!’ Jeremiah replied, looking quite vicious. ‘No doubt you were doing something you shouldn’t have been doing at the time, too! If that sword you’re talking about is the one I think it is, then it once belonged to my uncle! Which means it now rightfully belongs to me!’

  ‘Does it ever!’ Lex scoffed. ‘I’m the one who found it!’

  ‘That doesn’t make it yours!’

  ‘It does in my book! I’m the one who got my head bashed in to get it! I’m the one who’s probably gone half crazy for it and, no doubt, will be seeing giant talking foxes for the rest of my days because of it!’

  ‘What in the world,’ Jeremiah said, ‘are you talking about?’

  Lex cursed silently. He hadn’t meant to say anything about Plantagenet. He’d end up strapped down in a loony bin, for sure. He told himself that it had just been a dream. To prove it to himself he took the trout out of his bag and threw them defiantly down on the sand where, given the heat, they would probably be cooked within minutes.

  ‘I’m hot; I’m tired; I’m thirsty; I’m probably concussed; I’ve done what I came here to do; and I’ve had it up to here with the pair of you! I’m going back to my ship!’

  ‘Well said, old chum.’

  Lex almost jumped out of his skin, and whirled round on the spot to stare in dread at the wagon. There, perched on top of the coffin, was Plantagenet. He looked just as he had before − dressed in a waistcoat, and even holding a cup and saucer.

  Lex stared at him for a moment before looking back at Jeremiah and Jesse. He’d hoped to see suitable expressions of shock on their faces but, instead, they just looked slightly puzzled.

  ‘Can’t you see him?’ Lex hissed.

  ‘Who?’ Jeremiah said blankly.

  ‘Him!’ Lex pointed back at the wagon. But when he looked back, there was no one there. Plantagenet had gone, almost as if he’d never been there to begin with.

  Lex pinched the bridge of his nose, but it didn’t help and he swayed where he stood.

  ‘Is this another one of your acts?’ Jeremiah demanded.

  ‘No, I’m not feeling well!’ Lex snapped. ‘It’s this heat! No doubt you two would just love it if I dropped down dead − then you could pinch all my stuff and leave me out here all alone in the desert. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to be left for dead twice in the same day! So I’m leaving right now! You can find your own way back! See if you can manage to stay out of trouble for five minutes without me!’

  ‘You should probably see a doctor,’ Jeremiah said. ‘Head injuries can affect people in funny ways, and that looks like a nasty one.’

  ‘I don’t need any doctor!’ Lex snapped. ‘And I don’t need you sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong!’

  ‘Aw, just let him go,’ Jesse replied. ‘With any luck, he’ll keel over before he gets back, and the vultures will peck him to death. Save us all a lot of grief.’

  Lex ignored him. He picked up his bag and, after a brief hesitation, snatched the trout off the sand before making his way back to Sally. He unhitched her from the wagon, climbed up on to her back and then set off in the general direction of what he hoped was Dry Gulch.

  Secretly, he was completely and utterly horrified. It seemed to him that he’d either suffered some sort of serious brain damage that caused him to see Plantagenet, or else he’d gone mad. But he couldn’t afford to go mad! Not now, when he was in the middle of a Game, and close to winning it, too! He cursed the black Swann, and the chandelier, and the sword, and Jesse for causing him to get hit on the head like that. He’d been perfectly fine up until then. He thought angrily to himself that he seemed to be completely incapable of getting through a Game without some seriously debilitating thing happening to him. Last time, he had spent the better part of one week as a whiskerfish; this time he was seeing giant, talking foxes wherever he went!

  After a while, Lex became aware of the sounds of a wagon trundling along at a brisk pace behind him. He risked a glance over his shoulder − just to make absolutely sure that Plantagenet wasn’t the one driving it. To his relief, it was just Jeremiah and Jesse. Lex pulled a face and turned back. Why the heck was Jesse giving Jeremiah a lift? Didn’t he understand the concept of them being on different sides?

  Still, Lex slowed Sally down just a little. For, although he knew the way back well enough, what he really wanted to do as soon as he got to his ship was raid the larder. And he couldn’t do that unless Jesse was there. So he went on just far enough ahead to look defiant, but not so far that he would lose sight, or sound, of the wagon behind him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THE GOLD-DUST MINES

  After a good meal, a good bath and a good night’s sleep on board his ship, Lex felt one hundred times better. His headache had gone entirely by the next morning and Heetha’s horrible sun had been replaced with Saydi’s. As Goddess of Beauty, her sun always brought the loveliest − not to mention the most comfortable − weather on the Globe.

  Lex had the sword; he had triumphed against the odds and he had even managed to rescue his companion from certain death, as well. Now, finally, the third and final round was to start today and already Lex felt that he couldn’t wait. He and Jesse were back on speaking terms − mostly because Lex found he couldn’t overly resent Jesse for taking the sword, when it was exactly what Lex would have done himself. He respected Jesse more for being a man who was entirely, unashamedly, out for himself, than he would have done if he’d been some charitable, do-gooder sap. Besides, just because he didn’t trust Jesse, didn’t mean that he didn’t like him.

  ‘You’re not entirely useless,’ Lex said generously. ‘Which is a step up from my last companion, at least.’

  Of course, spending half the night gloating over the Sword of Life had improved Lex’s mood immeasurably. Just as the legend went, the red blade was hot to the touch whilst the blue blade was icy cold. The red blade took life; the blue blade gave it back. Lex couldn’t help thinking that it would be a dodgy weapon to take on to the battlefield though. After all, if some twit happened to get the blades mixed up then they could actually give years back to their opponent, rather than killing them dead, which would be rather an unfortunate mistake to make in a fight.

  Lex didn’t know when he would use it or how. But − one day − he would need more life. And then, somehow, he would find the courage to stab himself with that blue blade. He had no way of knowing how much life was stored up within the sword, although the stories said it was a hundred years or more. Lex would take whatever he could get. He was an adventurer, after all. And living life was what Lex was all about. It would be frightening − plunging that cool, blue blade into his chest. But Lex was no coward. And there was almost nothing he wouldn’t do to w
ring more experiences and adventures out of this world before he finally croaked it.

  But, for now, he stowed the sword away in his bag. It was another benefit of the enchanter’s magical bag that it seemed able to contain objects completely. Bottles of water could be spilt without so much as a drop of liquid seeping through. By the same measure, it seemed that sharp objects could not penetrate the fabric. Lex was therefore able to carry the sword about with him without any danger of accidentally impaling himself with it during the course of the Game. This was a particular advantage where this sword was concerned since, the fact that it had two blades stretching out in opposite directions, with the handle in the middle, made attempting to sheath it at your belt without cutting yourself rather difficult.

  The players gathered, as per Lady Luck’s instructions, on a dusty track just outside Dry Gulch the next morning. They were reduced in number, of course, for Lorella was gone, leaving only the little sprite to play in her place. Possibly that explained the sulky, resentful expression on Thaddeus’s face. Lex had to wonder why the Gods bothered playing at all when they always got into such strops as soon as they started to lose.

  As in the previous Game, the players’ points were wiped clean for the third round so that any of them might have a chance of winning. The advantage of the points he’d already earned, however, meant that Lex would get to start the third round before the other players. Flushed with confidence from his victories at Dry Gulch − both obtaining the sword and rescuing Jesse − Lex didn’t really see how he could possibly not win the next round, especially as he was to get a head start. He was positively itching to find out what the third round was to entail so that he could set his mind immediately to the task of winning the Game and triumphing over Jeremiah.

  ‘The third and final round,’ Lady Luck said with a smile, ‘is to take place in the Gold-Dust Mines.’

  The players fairly goggled at her. There had been a great gold rush about a hundred years ago at the Gold-Dust Mines. It was believed that they were amongst the richest − if not the richest − ever to be discovered. Profiteers and entrepreneurs had fled to Dry Gulch hoping to make their fortunes. But − sadly − it appeared that gold was not the only thing down in the mines. There was a ferocious, vicious dragon down there, as well. It had been the last of its kind one hundred years ago. The others had long since died out. Although dragons generally regarded humans as walking snacks, this one was particularly aggressive. It didn’t just kill when it was hungry, but all the time in between as well. It hated everyone and everything and was fiercely possessive of its home. Many believed it to be dead now, but no one dared enter the mines, just in case the fearsome beast still lived. For this dragon was sadistic. It did not simply bite your head off, but ripped out your insides whilst you were still alive and had a little play with your intestines before it finally ate you. No one wanted to die that way.

  Several people had tried to slay the beast before. Large, muscled heroes and mercenaries had been brought in to see if they could rid the mines of the scaly menace. But all had failed: chewed up and spat out, armour and all. And so the mines had finally been forced to board up and close down entirely. Too many miners had been killed and there was a little gaggle of widows wailing outside the entrance seven days a week by then. So the place was shut and everyone agreed that it would not be reopened until they could be absolutely sure that the dragon was dead.

  The problem, though, was that dragons were known for their longevity and so it might very well still be down there, even though a hundred years had passed.

  ‘Is the dragon dead, then?’ Jeremiah asked.

  ‘I hope not,’ Lady Luck replied. ‘It’s the subject of the third round. First player to drive a blade into its heart, wins.’

  The sprite looked utterly crestfallen by this, which was to be expected seeing as she was about the size of a thumb and therefore would not be able to wield any blade larger than a toothpick. Jeremiah, on the other hand, looked extremely pleased. No doubt, this was the sort of round that suited him perfectly. After all, it would not require much brainpower to slaughter the dragon − just a strong arm and a complete disregard for the sanctity of life. Having been privately and expensively educated in a posh academy, Jeremiah had probably spent more time out in the forest hunting small, defenceless animals, than he had in the classroom learning how to read and write. History, maths, science, philosophy and all those other academic subjects were probably rather pointless to a member of the aristocracy who was only going to sit around, bossing people about once they were grown up, anyway.

  Lex, on the other hand, was not happy about the third round. He was not happy at all. He was an adventurer. He loved exploring new places and doing never-done-before things. He did not kill stuff. He’d never killed anything before in his life − not even on the farm. Lex did not care for blood and gore and death. Those things weren’t fun at all. All right, so the dragon was a terrorising, murderous, blood-maddened beast but, skulking down there in the mines, it was not doing anyone any harm now. Lex tried to tell himself that this was no different from the first round in the last Game where he had defeated a minotaur and a medusa by turning them into stone. They may not technically have been dead, but life as a lump of rock couldn’t really be all that great. Still, this round left a bad taste in his mouth and he found himself extremely annoyed with Lady Luck for devising it. She knew full well that Lex was no warrior, so how the heck did she expect him to win this thing? OK, so he had a head start and a magic sword, but this was not the sort of task that Lex excelled at. Winning this round did not require cleverness, it merely required strength. Any old fool could weight-lift. Lady Luck really ought to have known better, but that was the price you occasionally had to pay for having the most dim-witted deity out there.

  ‘This is a stupid round,’ Lex said bluntly. He knew it wouldn’t make any difference, but he felt the pressing need to express his displeasure, anyway.

  ‘It’s hardly that,’ Lady Luck replied. ‘Slaying a dragon is the ultimate mark of a true hero. The player who pulls this off will have people talking about him for decades.’

  Big deal, Lex thought. So what if a lot of silly people gushed about you long after you were dead? But there was nothing for it. If he wanted to win the round then he would have to kill the dragon. And, once Lex started something, he would do anything to finish first. If he came second then, really, he might as well kill himself and have done with it, for he would only die of shame and self-loathing later on, anyway.

  ‘You are twenty points in the lead, Lex,’ Lady Luck said. ‘So you have earned yourself a twenty-minute head start. Jeremiah will then follow. And Lorella’s companion, Mab, will go twenty minutes after that. Good luck.’

  And, with that, Lex and the other players disappeared from the dusty path and found themselves standing directly outside the boarded-up Gold-Dust Mines.

  Lex lost no time, but started forwards at once, pausing only to glance back and smirk at Jeremiah over his shoulder. It was clear that the nobleman loathed having to stand there for a full twenty minutes whilst Lex got started on the round. The boards had been removed from the entrance, presumably for the purposes of the Game. Lex didn’t hesitate, but walked straight through with Jesse close behind him.

  ‘No one said nothin’ about any dragon-slaying,’ the cowboy grunted.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Lex replied. ‘You’re not scared of the dragon, are you?’

  ‘You’re damned right, I’m scared of it! That thing’s responsible for the deaths of hordes of men! What makes you think we have any chance of killing it when so many others have failed before us?’

  ‘We’ll do it,’ Lex replied, ‘because that dragon is all that stands between me and winning this Game.’

  ‘Well, I think it’s a right shame,’ Jesse replied. ‘It ain’t doing no harm down here now. We oughta just leave it be.’

  ‘You can leave it be if you like,’ Lex replied, ‘but I plan on winning this thing. Besides,
’ he added, ‘if I die during the third round then there’s no guarantee that Lady Luck will give you those pearls. She can be sulky like that.’

  Jesse grunted again, but kept pace with Lex as they moved deeper into the mines. They were dark and wet and damp. They didn’t smell too good, either. Water dripped from the rocky walls, giving the place a sort of mildewy scent. The general consensus seemed to be that the dragon had been sleeping for several months after the mine first started being built, and things were trouble free during that time. After that, something the miners did, woke the dragon up and that was when the killings began. The mine was, therefore, unfinished. They had only had time to lay some of the paths and railway tracks, and to dig some of the shafts, before they had been forced to close down. When they finally decided to abandon the place, everything was left exactly where it was. Lex and Jesse passed several large piles of picks and shovels as they walked in.