Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  Aviva's route, as planned, had her heading straight for her clothes and of course the laminium dagger. Unfurling just before she hit the ground, her breath bounced from her due to the abrupt landing she was forced to pull off. Stomping over to her clothes, she retrieved the dagger, slipping it safely into one of the hidden pouches that circled her belly. Contact with the dagger instantly heighted her senses. It was then that it struck her. Something was seriously wrong inside her, not near her calf, although that was starting to throb somewhat. No, something unusual was travelling through her system, causing her severe harm.

  Having retreated to lick their wounds, the two councillors continued circling high above Aviva's head. Whilst their collision hadn't been anywhere near fatal, bones had been broken and scales had been lost. Of course, with their multitude of dragon powers, a full recovery wouldn't take very long. As Aviva started to wonder why the two dragons hadn't resumed their attack, Ptolemy returned with a number of his guards, slightly further down the river. Archers appeared in their ranks, causing Aviva to think of her calf. Anger surged through her, so much so that she let out a ferocious roar in their direction. It had the desired effect; with nearly all the soldiers cowering in fear, Ptolemy puffed out his muscled chest in her direction as he took a breath.

  "Feeling a little... unwell?" he mocked, knowingly.

  Trying to respond, all Aviva could manage was a loud racking cough. Ptolemy smiled at his prey's discomfort.

  "What have you done to me?" Aviva croaked.

  Laughter reverberated through the night air, sending a chill up her tail.

  "Not me this time, I'm afraid," sniggered the wannabe King. "In fact, you can thank your friends up there, for that," he said, pointing high up into the sky. "Their little concoction seems to be doing a good job. While I didn't really approve of poisoning the whole village just to contaminate the well, it does seemed to have paid dividends."

  Craning her neck, she gazed up into the sky, before looking back at Ptolemy, shaking her head all the while. Ptolemy had previous in this department, but for any dragon to do something so dreadful was just outrageous.

  'This ends now,' she thought, suppressing another racking cough. 'But how to do it is the big question? Ptolemy and his soldiers aren't cause for concern now that I'm in dragon form, but taking the two councillors whilst the poison continues to debilitate me presents much more of a problem.'

  With them all having backed off, waiting for the poison to do its job, she decided to play along and began coughing wildly. Overhead, the two councillors, staying well out of the way, shared a smile. Ptolemy and his guards stood nervously waiting for the prehistoric beast in front of them to keel over and die. All the while coughing, she combed her memory for anything that would be of help. Aware that she was playing into their hands, given that with every second that ticked by, the closer to death she became, she knew that any attempt she was going to make, had to be sooner rather than later. With the cold night air helping her cough along nicely, as she dropped to one scaled knee for effect, suddenly it came to her.

  As well as being a deadly assassin, a member of the elite King's Guard and a trusted ally of the king himself, Aviva was also a keen scholar. With regular access to the council's main library and even the occasional supervised visit to the king's private library, she considered herself one of the best educated dragons on the planet, and had read just about everything ever published, dragon and human alike. Now it was time for that information to pay off. Buried in one of the tomes in the king's private library, there was a tale of a dragon who'd gone up against a horde of evil dark beasts, armed only with a trident. It wasn't just any trident though. It was, if she remembered correctly, a Trident fashioned from steel and plated with laminium. Once read, the tale had seemed more than a little far-fetched, but the interesting part was that the dragon in question was able to take on these enemies because every time he killed one of the creatures with the laminium augmented trident, the mighty weapon infused itself with the magical power from each deceased dragon, making its owner more powerful than ever.

  'If I could kill just one of the councillors with the laminium dagger,' Aviva thought, 'then maybe I'll be infused with enough power to carry on and finish off the other, and Ptolemy as well.'

  Fully bent over now, coughing for all she was worth, from the corner of her eye, she could just see the two councillors getting closer and closer overhead, whilst Ptolemy and his soldiers edged ever nearer, weapons raised, ready for action. Pulling in a deep breath, which she knew might well be one of her last, she twisted her head in Ptolemy's direction and launched a searing stream of fire. Nothing more than a distraction really from her point of view, as they were over fifty feet away, it did however send them scampering to take cover behind one of the buildings.

  The councillors hadn't backed off, pretty sure that between them they could take down one lone dragon suffering from acute poisoning; in fact, if anything they were coming in lower, playing right into Aviva's hands.

  Banging her tail in supposed frustration, she let one of her legs give way, causing her to topple onto the dusty sand. Lying on one side, she could see the two councillors getting ever nearer. Clutching the dagger in her right hand, hidden beneath her wing, Aviva prepared to strike.

  Like lightning on steroids, she was up, using everything she had to propel herself into the air. Both councillors were caught off guard, absolutely no idea what to do, Aviva heading towards them at speed. Yellow tried to double back in an arc, confused as to how their adversary had gone from her deathbed to airborne in an instant. His partner opened his jaws in a full on challenge, angry at the turnaround of events. Concealing the dagger in her hand, Aviva appeared to ignore Yellow and go straight for the challenger. Dropping his guard, Yellow waited to pounce on Aviva after she had shot by him. It was the last mistake he ever made. Making the sharpest high speed turn possible without ripping both her wings off, she was all over Yellow in an instant, already having located his weak spot, she thrust the dagger into the underside of his belly with as much force as she could. Much as she didn't want to kill another dragon, there was simply no way out of this now. It was kill or be killed. None of this had been part of the plan, for which she was very sorry. But given what they'd both done, not just to her, but the villagers as well, she had no doubt they deserved to die.

  Red, the other councillor, was aghast at what had happened, and although on his way to his comrade, he was far too slow to make a difference... the laminium dagger slaughtered Yellow instantly. Aviva's strike was well placed.

  What happened next though, even Aviva couldn't have predicted, despite having read the account of the dragon with the trident. Shimmering, Aviva's laminium dagger turned the brightest shade of blue, lighting up the sky all around, as far as the pyramid, more than four miles away. Hovering in place, she was totally blinded by the searing bright light, and she wasn't the only one, so was the other councillor, out to exact revenge for the friend he'd just seen murdered. Unfortunately for him, he'd tumbled around a few times and was now heading in totally the opposite direction, all the time howling in pain.

  Overrun with magical energy, Aviva's dagger started to get hot. Not just a little hot, oh no. Hot like the sun. Holding on anyway, she knew that if she was going to boost her powers somehow, then the dagger was key. Smoke fluttered up from her scorched palms. Still she held on, despite fearing she might pass out. Abruptly the heat and the pain passed, replaced by an all encompassing serenity. Bright light all around her appeared to get sucked into the dagger, and then from the dagger into Aviva herself. Everything became completely crisp and clear for a split second. In that time anything was possible, her power unimaginable. She even got the tiniest glimpse into the future, or futures, depending on how you looked at it.

  With the light having dissipated, turned into energy and transferred into Aviva, darkness once again cloaked the surrounding area. Soaring up high, she could just make out Ptolemy, terrified, fleeing with his men, back tow
ards the pyramid. On the far side of the village, Red screeched the most unholy noise as he circled low over the ground, mourning the death of his friend, blinded and not knowing where he was. Deep inside she knew she had to finish him off and quickly. Despite her training, murdering another dragon was not high on her 'to do' list, particularly a blind one. However, she'd gotten some idea of just how dangerous he could be, and knew it was best for everyone if he died here and now, especially as she had no idea how long her new found infusion of power would last, or keep the toxin within her at bay. Thoughts of the entire village being killed by the poison that seeped through her spurred her into action as she flew across the village, determined to make it quick and as relatively painless as possible.

  Hovering just above the buildings next to the river, the remaining councillor spurted flame in a wide arc, hollering and howling like a deranged werewolf. Aviva approached from high above, already having noted that his weak spot was about half way up his back, just off centre. With nothing else for it but to get on with the task at hand, she nose-dived towards the stricken councillor, who seemed to be going more berserk by the second. Aviva tackled him from behind, much like an experienced rugby player would. Struggling madly, he tried to turn around and get his jaws locked on her. Tangled up, they both scrambled towards the river, as Aviva plunged the dagger into his weak spot. Instantly, mad howling and screaming died out, as the dagger glowed ever so slightly with a bluish tint, but nothing like the last time. As she struggled to take his weight, the councillor's prehistoric body hung limp in Aviva's arms. With nothing else for it but to dump the body in the river, she managed to take him a few extra metres, above the middle of the deep, fast flowing body of water, before finally letting him go. A gigantic SPLASH boomed across the village, as ripples of dark water washed out in concentric circles.

  Utterly exhausted, the poison, despite her best efforts to prevent it, had done its job. She was close to death. Determined to right all the wrongs that had gone on in this place before she died, Aviva was desperate to find Ptolemy. Through the fog that clouded her mind, she recalled seeing him retreat back towards the pyramid. Putting what little effort she had left into heading in that direction, the cool night air washed over her pain racked body causing her to shiver like mad. Flapping one of her giant wings sent enough pain through her to contemplate simply curling up and dying. Her amazing willpower had never been tested in any of her adventures like it was being tested now.

  Winging her way over the undergrowth that separated the village from the pyramid, she caught a glimpse of Ptolemy, not far from the stone structure's entrance. Flapping both wings in unison, nearly passing out from the pain, she put on one last burst of speed, determined to intercept the scheming human before he found sanctuary in the pyramid. People in the dense crowd surrounding the structure pointed, unable to believe what they were seeing. Panic soon set in, as they all fled in different directions at the sight of Aviva's scaly form descending towards them.

  Coming in hard, she crashed to the ground right in front of the pyramid's main entrance, stopping Ptolemy and his men in their tracks. On his orders, the guards closed ranks around their master, forming a circle three deep. As Aviva took this all in, her vision started to blur quite badly, able to see three of everything, knowing that her time was nearly at an end. Leg muscles tightened as she tried frantically to move them and walk over to the group, but to no avail. Ptolemy barked out more orders; Aviva could no longer understand them. All her willpower was focused on destroying him and returning the region to some kind of stability, protecting everyone from this murdering, scheming, would-be king.

  Suddenly a ring of archers stole out of the night, surrounding the stricken dragon. Letting out a little chuckle, she looked at them, not knowing just how many there actually were due to her failing vision. With inevitable death only moments away, she drew in the biggest breath possible, which was quite pathetic given what she would normally have been able to achieve, added as much magic as she had left, and let rip with the biggest stream of flame she could manage, in the direction of Ptolemy and his guards. Unfortunately for her, only a tiny smattering of flame appeared from between her ancient looking jaws, barely enough to warm the archer standing directly in front of her, let alone harm Ptolemy. Spent, she collapsed awkwardly to the ground, the cool golden sand spraying up around her.

  Through half open eyes, she could just make out her nemesis walking towards her as the guards ahead of him parted. Fighting with all her might to lift her jaw off the ground to get a better look at him, she failed spectacularly, too far gone to move even one muscle, let alone her whole head. Ptolemy appeared only inches in front of her, barking out questions she could barely understand. Through badly disfigured vision, she could just make out his sickening smile. Wishing with her dying breath for one last surge of energy, so that she could bite his head off, the poison finally took hold. As she drifted into nothingness, her last thought was of the laminium dagger.

  'Where has it gone? Have I dropped it somewhere or did someone else...'

  "Ptolemy went on to become king; both of Alexander the Great's sons were murdered in mysterious circumstances. That was one of the key events in him founding the Ptolemaic dynasty.

  And that, young dragons, is yet another example of dragons, good or evil, interfering with the natural development of human evolution. Time and again we see rogue dragons trying to manipulate the populated world above. And time and again, so called good dragons are sent after them in an effort to rebalance everything.

  Now, all of you, off to Lava Falls to practice your aerial acrobatics. This year's examination is only a few days away, and I expect you all to pass with... flying colours... ha ha... flying... get it?"

  As one, the class groaned at the tor's feeble attempt at humour. (Tor is short for praeceptor. They are tutors to the young dragons, with their guidance not only covering academic studies, but also personal skills, in effect becoming more like guardians to the youngsters in their care.)

  Perched on the wall that separated the courtyard of the nursery ring from the main walkway into Purbeck Peninsula, Peter shook his head and suppressed a smile at the thought of the tor's attempted joke, having only heard the tor say that about a thousand times, and it hadn't been particularly funny at the first attempt.

  As the young dragons eagerly scattered, excitedly heading off to Lava Falls, he felt a pang of regret, wishing he were able to join them. Despite more than six weeks having elapsed since his ordeal on the Astroturf with the mysterious dragon Manson, he had still not fully recovered. So much so, that he'd been told by the best dragon doctors that under no circumstances was he to try and take dragon form, at least not until he was fully healed which was, at best, still some way off.

  Gingerly shuffling off the wall and onto the busy thoroughfare, he headed towards the monorail station at a sedate walk. Dragons travelling in both directions gave him curious looks, some even daring to smile, at the left arm he currently had bandaged and in a sling. It was unusual to see any dragon in this condition, because normally they would have been completely healed by the dragon medics and their mantras. His fight with Manson had left him with some bizarre injuries, puzzling the dragon doctors as to how to cure them or indeed how they'd come about in the first place. In the end it had been decided that the best course of action was to let Peter's body heal on its own, something that was taking a seriously long time. Meanwhile, his heroics had been splashed across the front of the telepathic papers almost constantly. While from a certain point of view, he could see how it could be construed as heroics, he maintained now, as he had done at the hospital after the attack, that he had only survived due to luck, and that he just happened to be in the right place at the right time to thwart the dastardly Manson. The papers, like all papers everywhere, were having none of it, putting it all down to modesty on Peter's part. So now, everywhere he went, dragons stared, pointed and occasionally smiled. All of it bothered him, nothing more so than the fact he felt like a
fraud, and couldn't shake the feeling that he'd done the least he could at all times and that it was only really with the help of his friends... Tank, Richie and Gee Tee the master mantra maker... that the whole situation had been resolved.

  Continuing along the narrow path, gazing longingly at the bright orange slivers of lava shining through the thin cracks in the walkway's surface, to his relief, the number of travellers started to dwindle to barely a handful, a minute or so later. While nothing bad had happened to him through the publicity, all he really wanted to do was go back to his normal life and relative obscurity, something that seemed a million miles away at the moment.

  Not due back to work at Cropptech until after Christmas, playing hockey, his favourite sport would have to wait until well into the New Year, due to the severity of his injuries. Richie and Tank had been wonderful throughout everything, visiting him regularly. Pretty sure they'd both been given instructions to do so by the doctors, he was certain they would have appeared anyway.

  Over the course of their last few visits though, he'd gotten the impression that something was... not so much wrong, just... going on, and that both of them didn't want to burden him with whatever it was. Tank had been giving Richie some very curious looks. As their friend he always liked to think he could pick up on such things. Clearly the pair didn't want to tell him what the problem was, and after giving them a few chances to do so, he decided it was best to leave it alone, sure he would find out eventually, whatever it was. It couldn't be that important anyway, could it?

  Cresting the top of the hill that overlooked the Purbeck monorail station, once again it took his breath away. Not in the same way as say, Salisbridge Cathedral, or the water meadows, but still it was a stunning sight. Keeping his head down as he approached the station in the hope that the other travellers might not realise who he was, in his heart of hearts he knew that the sling he was wearing would almost certainly give it away. Glancing up only to see which platform his carriage was departing from, he was glad to see it waiting there for him to step on as he arrived. Taking his seat, almost immediately the carriage accelerated away into the eerie darkness of the tunnel that led out of the smallish dragon enclave. Fiddling with his sling, he snuck a peek at the rest of the carriage, hoping to find it deserted. It wasn't, but it wasn't full either. Chuckling to himself, he noticed one of the other dragons nearby reading a human paper.