The others, like the idiot and the twerp, had to be careful, but they were smart enough to give anything dangerous to them a wide berth. She doubted that the vampire had anything to worry about, and she’d written clear instructions for the servants to follow after Timmy had insisted on it. Hell, she’d started stockpiling antidotes to the various plant toxins in case one of the servants who delivered food got injured. The last thing she wanted was to have to walk all the way to the kitchens to get a meal. The only one she had to worry about was Gerald, and Spot had taken the bureaucrat under his wing since their mission to the island. The arrangement suited Gerald since he was basically a walking meal to most monsters whereas Spot was the opposite. To the dragon, everyone else was a meal.
Although she loved all of her plants, her favourite was definitely Mr Sparkles. For a giant man-eating rose, he was remarkably friendly. Maybe it was because she was an elf, or maybe it was because she’d raised him from a seedling. The elves had been created not long after the first forests, and the gods had supposedly appointed them the stewards of the world’s woods, forests, and jungles. The species Mr Sparkles belonged to was one of the oldest in the world, so there was likely some part of him, driven by ancient instinct, that recognised elves as friends or maybe not. More than one elf had met their end at the bladelike teeth and petals of an Everton giant man-eating rose although Mr Sparkles had never been anything but friendly toward her.
Mr Sparkles was also easy to please. She’d never met anyone except for Spot who could get so happy over a simple meal. And despite his bulk, Mr Sparkles was incredibly good at climbing along the castle’s walls and exterior. He’d given more than one maid a fright after climbing along the castle walls and slipping through one of the larger windows to tell Avraniel that he was hungry. Mr Sparkles also kept Spot company from time to time, and it wasn’t unusual for Spot, Chomp, and Mr Sparkles to go off on hunting trips in the forest around the castle.
Mr Sparkles was sleeping when Avraniel reached her garden. He had picked a nice, sunny spot for himself near the middle of the courtyard. She was pleased to see that the spot he’d chosen was the one she’d specially prepared for him using an intricate mix of soil and fertiliser that was supposed to be perfect for his species. It had been a pain finding out what soil and nutrients Mr Sparkles needed in order to thrive, but Gerald had been surprisingly quick to help her after Mr Sparkles had accompanied her on a visit to his chambers. Although it hadn’t been cheap to get everything, the merchant she’d bought everything from had assured her it would work, and she’d been radiating enough magic at the time for him to realise exactly how bad an idea it would have been to lie to her. Merchants might be greedy, but they liked living too.
From what she could tell, Mr Sparkles was definitely benefiting from the new soil and fertiliser. His leaves and vines were all a deep, lush green, and his petals gleamed in the sun. As she came closer, he began to stir. Good. From what she’d read, his species spent much of their time sleeping, but they would react when they felt vibrations in the air or ground or when they picked up the scent of food. The closer someone got to Mr Sparkles and the longer they stayed nearby, the more likely he was to wake up. That’s what had gotten Gerald into trouble the first time around. If he hadn’t wanted to wake Mr Sparkles, then he shouldn’t have practically fallen on top of him.
When she put one hand on one of his vines, Mr Sparkles awakened. His vines uncoiled, and he pulled himself free of the soil, walking on several leg-like roots. She smiled as he tilted his rosebud toward her, the petals unfurling to reveal a ‘mouth’ full of teeth that were, in truth, highly specialised petals. There was a quiet whirring sound as his teeth moved back and forth. Had she tossed something small and annoying into his mouth – like Rembrandt – it would have been sliced into a million pieces. The sounds he made also passed for speech, but only elves, or certain other creatures like dragons, could understand him. Elves had magic in their blood, but so did dragons, and she’d heard Spot chirping to Mr Sparkles about what sort of cow tasted the best. Apparently, the man-eating rose didn’t believe in adding condiments to his meals whereas Spot firmly believed that the right condiments, like steak sauce, could make a good cow taste great. It had been an odd conversation, but both Spot and Mr Sparkles thought with their stomachs, or whatever passed for a stomach in the case of the man-eating rose.
“How are you today?” Avraniel asked. She ran her fingers over his vines and checked for any insects or other parasites. She did her best to keep them away, but it couldn’t hurt to be sure.
Mr Sparkles made several happy sounds and gave a brief commentary on how he felt although much of it didn’t make sense to her. She had no idea what good soil tasted like, nor did she know how it felt to have her roots adequately watered. She chuckled. It was enough to know that he was doing well. One of the main advantages of having modern plumbing in the castle – Timmy had installed a lot of it himself – was that watering her garden was easy. All she had to do was attach a hose to some sprinklers and a faucet. Sure, there were runes and seals for watering plants, but simpler was often better. Runes and seals could backfire and explode, which would definitely hurt some of her plants. If she was worried about leaving a faucet on too long, all she had to do was to tell one of the servants or one of the rats to keep an eye on it.
And speaking of the rats, she might not like most of the little bastards, the demolition rats were an exception, but some of them were poison specialists, and they’d taken a keen interest in her plants. Some of them even had magic that could help plants grow, and she’d allowed them into her garden under strict conditions. They could harvest some of her plants’ toxins, but she expected them to take good care of her plants. Any mistakes would be punished with mangling and flame.
As a man-eating rose, Mr Sparkles needed more than good soil, nutrients, and water to thrive. He needed meat, and it was time for her to feed him. Timmy had recently begun to maintain a herd of cattle not only because it was profitable but also because Spot and the castle’s residents needed a reliable source of meat. The herd wasn’t kept in the castle. Instead, it was kept near the base of the massive outcrop of rock upon which the castle was built. Whenever Spot wanted a cow, he could simply fly down and grab one. Whenever anyone else wanted a cow, they could send one of Timmy’s zombies to get one, or they could use the elaborate elevator system that the idiot and the twerp had designed to move things through the caves that went all the way from the castle down to the lightless gulfs of unfathomable horror far, far below it.
Mr Sparkles was another beneficiary of the idiot’s foray into animal husbandry although he didn’t eat as frequently or as much as Spot. The growing dragon could eat more in one sitting than the man-eating rose could in a week. If there wasn’t enough to eat, then Mr Sparkles would go into a sort of stasis until a meal wandered close enough for him to grab, which was why his species often established themselves near game trails or water sources.
“Here’s something for you,” Avraniel said as she reached into the bucket of meat she’d brought. “Spot recommended it.”
She tossed a chunk of meat into the air. With surprising speed and dexterity, Mr Sparkles used his vines to snatch it out of the air before throwing it into his mouth. There was a wet squelch as his teeth made short work of the meat. Indeed, it was vaguely hypnotic watching the plant’s teeth tear through the chunk like a rotating saw until it was little more than a fine paste that he greedily gulped down. Avraniel grinned as she imagined some stupid bandit picking a fight with Mr Sparkles. It would not go well. If someone wanted to fight the giant man-eating rose, they would need a lot of fire and for her to be nowhere around because there was no way she’d let anyone burn him. She tossed a few more chunks into the air, which he swiftly consumed. As she threw another chunk, a playful cry rang out above them. Spot lanced through the air and grabbed the chunk before Mr Sparkles could get it. The plant gave a plaintive cry, and his vines lashed the air as Spot circled overhead, well out of hi
s reach.
Joking. Spot dropped the meat, and Mr Sparkles eagerly grabbed it as the dragon landed beside him and nudged one of his roots with his head. Friend. Spot eyed the bucket intently. More?
“Yes, there’s more.” Spot trilled hopefully. “And, yes, you can have some.” Avraniel hurled more meat into the air. The little, but rapidly growing, dragon took to the air to catch it before gobbling it down and then padding back to Mr Sparkles. Spot sniffed the plant a few times and made a curious sound in the back of his throat. Avraniel could understand his curiosity. Spot had a keen sense of smell, and Mr Sparkles didn’t smell like most other plants. Then again, most other plants didn’t go around eating people.
“How about you two take Chomp and go hunting today,” Avraniel said. “It’s been almost a week since you last went hunting together.” She cackled. “And grab the paper pusher too. He’s been cooped up in here all week. He could use some sunlight, exercise, and excitement.” She scowled. “But you’ll have to go without me. I have to do some paperwork.”
As much as Avraniel hated doing paperwork, and she absolutely hated it, Gerald did not know as much about her plants as she did. It would be easier to simply make him order in everything, but she wanted to make sure that she ordered exactly the right things. She’d also have to talk to Timmy. She was planning on ordering some rare plants, and some of them needed special supplies to survive. He might be an idiot, but he was great at finding things and getting them.
Okay. Spot wagged his tail. Come next time.
“Don’t worry, I’ll definitely come along next time.” Avraniel gave him a scratch behind the ears and then burst into laugher as he and Mr Sparkles went off to find Gerald. She’d have to ask Spot what Gerald’s face looked like when he saw Mr Sparkles. It would be hilarious.
* * *
Gerald was enjoying a nice, relaxing morning doing some light paperwork. He even had a cup of tea and his favourite slippers – a fluffy pair in the shape of little bunny rabbits – along with a soft, warm dressing gown. He signed off on the latest piece of paperwork and reached for another. This morning was going to be good. He could feel it. Yes, he’d do some more paperwork for another hour or two, get some lunch, and then come back and do more paperwork before enjoying dinner with the others. After dinner, he’d read for perhaps an hour and then turn in for the night. Whenever he went on a mission with the others, he invariably found himself screaming, several inches from death, and having to beat his enemies over the head with whatever he could get with his magic. It was thus incredibly important for him to savour the time between missions by living as boring a life as possible. Some people craved excitement. Gerald craved normalcy, and the missions he and the others went on were the very opposite of normal.
Alas, his hopes for a peaceful, normal day were about to meet a horrible end.
His first glimpse of impending doom came when vines began to creep along his floor and the rats guarding his chambers gave cries of alarm. He turned and found himself face to face with one of his worst nightmares: an Everton giant man-eating rose. For a moment, he could only stare at the man-eating plant, his mouth opening and closing as his mind oh so helpfully began to list the many, many ways Mr Sparkles could devour him. The rats did their best to subdue Mr Sparkles, but Avraniel had told them in no uncertain terms that she would not tolerate anyone actually harming her beloved plant. Nets and ropes might be good for restraining people, but they were somewhat less effective against Mr Sparkles. One of the rats was about to electrocute Mr Sparkles before realising how bad an idea it would be when Mr Sparkles had several vines wrapped around Gerald’s upper body.
“Wait!” Gerald raised his hands. “You can’t eat me! Avraniel must have said something about it! You can’t – ah!”
His pleading turned into an incoherent, high-pitched wail as Mr Sparkles yanked him off his feet and dangled him upside down. Gerald continued to scream as he summoned a pair of hedge scissors with his magic, only for Mr Sparkles to pluck them out of his grasp and toss them across the room. The hedge scissors were followed by a pogo stick, an octopus, and a giant bell, but the man-eating rose dealt with each of them in the same way. Gerald stopped screaming, mainly because he needed air to live, and Mr Sparkles smiled at him, the countless teeth inside his rosebud whirring softly as they began to move, turning the plant’s mouth into a rotating saw. Gerald took several deep breaths and began screaming again. This was how he was going to die. Mr Sparkles was going to drop him into his mouth, and all they’d find afterward would be a fine, bloody paste, most likely splattered all over the walls, floor and ceiling. Dimly, he was aware of the rats trying to pin Mr Sparkles down, but the plant had only grown stronger since the last time he’d faced the rats.
Just as Gerald was about to take another break from screaming to breathe, Spot appeared.
“Spot!” Gerald cried, waving at the dragon. He’d never been so happy to see him in his life. “Help! Mr Sparkles is going to eat me!”
Paper pusher. Spot tilted his head to one side. Help?
“Yes!” Gerald shrieked, his voice going even higher than Katie’s. “Mr Sparkles is going to eat me!”
Spot chortled and patted one of Mr Sparkles’s roots with one claw. Not eat. Friend. Spot nodded at the door. Going hunting. You’re coming.
And with that, Gerald found himself being whisked out of the castle as Mr Sparkles and Spot simply left via one of the larger windows. Apparently, they were going hunting. And, apparently, he was coming with them. As Mr Sparkles raced down the side of the castle and the massive outcrop it was built on, Gerald continued to scream. It was a testament to his improved cardiovascular fitness that he only needed to stop for breath twice before they reached the bottom.
Hopefully, he thought as Mr Sparkles and Spot headed toward the forest, they weren’t going to encounter anything too dangerous. They should be fine if they went after something like a bear or some wolves. Spot could handle those on his own, and Gerald was certain Mr Sparkles could too. He should have known better, especially when Chomp joined them, the three-headed dog making his way down from the castle with the same enthusiasm as Mr Sparkles and Spot.
Not much later, Gerald found himself creeping through one of the darkest, most dangerous parts of the forest around the castle in his bunny slippers and dressing gown. At least, Mr Sparkles had put him down because he’d been about thirty seconds away from throwing up. Avraniel might have told the plant not to eat him – and Gerald had his doubts about that – but even if she had, he had a feeling that the man-eating rose would not be happy if he vomited on him.
As for Spot, the little dragon was plodding along beside them with a big, toothy grin on his face, not the least bit worried about Mr Sparkles. Well, Gerald was worried. Spot had said that Mr Sparkles wasn’t going to eat him, but Mr Sparkles was an Everton giant man-eating rose. His name alone should have made it obvious why Gerald was worried. Sure, Spot could eat people, but he wasn’t called a man-eating dragon. He kind of just ate everything. But Mr Sparkles was an Everton giant man-eating rose, which meant that he specialised in eating men – and Gerald was the only man around.
Spot had gone out of his way to reassure Gerald that Mr Sparkles didn’t hold any grudges about the pogo stick he’d once thrown at him. Setting aside how bizarre it was that a dragon could somehow talk to a plant, Gerald could barely believe what he was hearing. A grudge? All he’d done was throw a pogo stick at Mr Sparkles after the rose had tried to eat him. If anyone should be holding a grudge, it should be him!
Rounding out their merry group – well, Spot and Mr Sparkles were merry whereas Gerald was sort of stumbling along in a state of delayed terror as he contemplated all of the many, many things in this part of the forest that could eat him – was Chomp. On the upside, Gerald was confident that Chomp wasn’t going to give him any trouble. The dog was actually very sociable, perhaps because of how long he’d been stuck in a labyrinth. Chomp had quickly learned that once Gerald was sure he wasn’t going to ea
t him, all he had to do was wander over to Gerald’s chambers, and he’d get a scratch behind one of his three pairs of ears or a belly rub. Since Avraniel and Spot were often out and about, Chomp regularly spent time with Gerald or anyone else that stayed at the castle. He was, after all, a guard dog by profession, and although the castle didn’t really need more guards, it was something he liked doing. It helped that Chomp liked the treats that Gerald had stored away with his magic, and Gerald had ordered more in just to be on the safe side. Gerald’s room also had a very comfortable rug to nap on.
“What are we doing here?” Gerald whispered. Chomp nudged him out of the way and calmly locked his jaws around a very large, very venomous centipede that had been about to crawl up Gerald’s leg. Gerald bit back a shriek. He’d learned the hard way that making more noise only made him a bigger target. And unlike some people, he couldn’t simply kill anything that looked at him funny. “Thank you, Chomp.”
The dog nodded and then sighed before nudging Gerald again before he could fall into what was obviously the pit trap of a giant spider. A brief blast of Spot’s fire ensured the giant arachnid didn’t cause any further trouble, and the dragon took a big bite out of the burning spider before moving along. Apparently, giant spiders didn’t taste very nice.
Hunting. According to Timmy, Spot’s lack of grace on the ground would change as he got older and his limbs took on more mature proportions. For the time being, the dragon was vaguely adorable in the way he sort of toddled along. It was probably his tail. It was still a bit short. It would also be risky for Spot to leave the ground. If he was in the air and something attacked Gerald, which recent events suggested was extremely likely, he might not get down in time to keep Gerald alive. Chomp would do his best, of course, but dragon fire was a very effective deterrent. The three-headed dog sniffed the air and growled something to Spot. The dragon’s eyes gleamed, and he gave Gerald a toothy grin. Killing danger.
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