by Paul Cude
Letting out a deep sigh, Flash lay down on his side on the oversized dragon seat, the gaudy cloak wrapped around his naked human body. He'd never thought it would end quite like this, always assuming it would be a magnificent battle in a blaze of glory, fighting for good, saving the king's life. Resting his head beneath his hands, he tried to conserve what little energy he had left, knowing full well that he'd probably need every ounce of it just to survive the day.
* * *
Having gathered up all the things he needed into his briefcase, the old man walked around his mahogany desk and reached up to the rather splendid picture in the golden frame on the wall. Inside the frame was an oil painting that had been given to him by a client, oh a long time ago, more than thirty years in fact. Having fallen on hard times, the client had practically begged for his services. In the end, he'd conceded and worked for a pittance when nobody else would have taken on such a hopeless case. Of course he'd won, pretty much the same as always in those days, but once the client had got rid of the cloud hanging over him, all talk of monetary reimbursement had been long forgotten. So it came as something of a shock when, some eight months later, a package had been delivered to that very office. After having signed for it, he clearly recalled untying the pristine white string and ripping open the brown paper to find the exquisite painting tucked securely inside. Puzzled, he searched carefully around the base of the painting, moments later finding a small hand scrawled note that read:
'Thanks for the great job you did in the courtroom. Sorry I couldn't pay you at the time, but hopefully this will go some way to recompensing you. Regards T.'
He scratched his neck as the picture evoked the same memories now as it had done back then. The beach scene sent him right back to his childhood, of growing up by the sea, all those years ago. Both children in the picture bore a startling resemblance to him and his sister Evlyn.
'Oh Evlyn, how I miss you,' he thought, gazing one last time at the boy and girl frolicking in the surf, a red bucket and spade strewn amongst the sand dunes in the foreground.
Pushing the heart wrenching memories to one side, he got on with the job at hand. Reaching up to the painting, he brought his right index finger just underneath the heavy golden frame, in the bottom left hand corner. Lifting the tiniest of latches, he freed the painting, allowing it to swivel out towards him, revealing a very old and heavy safe. Peering over his shoulder across the desk towards the opaque office door, something that was a time honoured force of habit rather than a necessity, once sure the coast was clear, he carefully rotated the big black dials with faded intricate white markings, into their correct positions. Sure enough, he was rewarded with a tiny click. Turning the silver handle, he pulled the incredibly heavy door open towards him, using up every bit of strength he possessed in the process. Inside the safe lay pile upon pile of documents, some held together by flimsy elastic bands. A couple of what he thought were those new fangled DVD's lay off to one side, containing valuable information about former clients. As he glared at it all in the dull office light, he couldn't have been less bothered by any of it, something that in a way shocked him, as it had been his life and soul for the best part of half a century.
Looking back across his desk, he took hold of his briefcase and turned it round to face him. With a feeling of regret, he took out the package that he'd been given and very carefully placed it on top of everything else in the safe. As he pulled his frail fingers out of the safe for the very last time, his thoughts turned to what he was doing. It was strange really. Not knowing all the details himself, he could only try and fill in the missing parts, but apparently one of his grandsons, the eldest one of three, had got himself into some kind of trouble. Unsure of what, he only knew that it was something very unsavoury. Of course he'd tried to find out more, but he didn't wield nearly the kind of power or influence now that he had done several decades ago. Anyway, the long and the short of it was that whatever Chuck had gotten himself into, there was no clear cut way out of it. Or there hadn't been, up until very recently. Chuck had been contacted by some of his associates, and offered a way out of everything; all he had to do was get his grandfather to do them a little 'favour.' Whether Chuck wanted to do any of this was anyone's guess, but, yes you've guessed it, Chuck was always his grandfather's favourite grandson. Well, the little 'favour' that Chuck's associates wanted was quite bizarre really, something that made it all the more worrying in his experience. All he had to do, for his grandson to be free of any sort of debt, was to take delivery of a package, put it securely in his office safe, and take a holiday for a month. No going back to his office, no going in or out, even to clean it, for that month. It was almost too good to be true, and there had to be a catch somewhere, he just couldn't understand what it was, and knowing that Chuck was now out of the country and safe in the hands of some overseas relatives meant that he didn't really care. He did, however, have a seriously bad feeling and those things, in his great experience, never boded well. Resisting the temptation to open the package, he pushed the door shut, whirled the black dials for all they were worth, and set the painting back in place. Closing his briefcase and snapping the locks shut, he picked it up and wandered over to the coat stand, but not before glancing out of the window at the wonderful view, one last time. Marvelling at the changes he'd seen from this window throughout his career, the skyline looked almost totally different, but then it seemed to him as though Seattle didn't stand still for more than a week, let alone the number of years he'd been working there. With a tear in the corner of one eye, he grabbed his raincoat off the old wooden stand, folded it across his arm and walked out of the office. Making sure the door was secure, he strolled over to the nearest elevator and pressed the down button, never ceasing to be amazed at the number of people flitting around the building, even though he'd have thought most would have finished long before 8.30pm.
'Still,' he mused, as the elevator doors pinged open, 'it has pretty much always been that way in the Smith Tower.' Riding down to the ground floor amongst the throng of workers, he thought about the history of the magnificent building he'd worked in for so long. His last sentiment as he walked through the lobby and out into the street, was,
'The oldest skyscraper in Seattle. I sure hope it stays that way until the end of time.'
If only he had acted on that bad feeling.
11 A King's Ransom
Awaking with a yawn, his very first thought was of Janice. Although he was alone, snuggled up under his favourite duvet, he imagined wrapping his arms around her and falling asleep against her gorgeous smelling body. A vision of the dragon council hauling him off to the deepest darkest depths underground shocked him awake. Knowing what he was doing was wrong, as Richie did, he couldn't help but feel at the same time it was so... right. Running his fingers through his long, unkempt hair in frustration, reluctantly he got out of bed, wondering why things had to be so complicated. Sure a day of misery lay ahead of him, it was then that he remembered.
'I'm going to see the king, with Tank and Gee Tee.'
That cheered him up. With all thoughts of Janice and his highly illegal relationship banished, he scooted off to have a shower, singing happily as he did so. Twenty minutes later he was pristine and had finished his breakfast. During all of this, it had suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea about what form he should go in to visit the king. In theory, he supposed he should go in his natural dragon form; certainly Gee Tee would, and he supposed that meant Tank would as well. But, while he still felt a thrill being solitus, he was much more comfortable in the human guise that he spent so much time in. Ironic really. Still in two minds, he headed for the piano in the living room, yanking back the tall, glass, Galileo thermometer that stood atop it. Silently, the piano swivelled out to reveal a dark segment in the floor, through which the top of an intricate, metal staircase could just be made out. He'd thought he'd been fighting with the decision on which form to assume, but as it turned out he hadn't really. It was human guise for him all t
he way and he was sure the king wouldn't mind and would want him to be comfortable, especially spending so much time himself in that particular form. Bounding over to the gaping hole, he stepped through into the darkness just as the piano started to swivel back into place.
A short journey later and he found himself heading away from Buckingham Station towards the council chambers for his rendezvous with Tank and Gee Tee. Looking at his watch, he realised he'd done his normal thing of being early, only this time it was by nearly quarter of an hour. Knowing that the chances of Tank being able to hurry the old mantra maker along to get to the chambers on time were remote, he settled in for a bit of a wait.
'Oh well,' he mused, stopping for just a second to take in all the tall and opulent buildings, something he considered absolutely staggering. Continuing to stroll pleasantly down a side street, waiting to be met by the sight of the stunning council building, he turned a corner only to be greeted by a sight far more surprising. There, standing halfway up the steps to the council building, stood Tank in his human persona, alongside Gee Tee who looked absolutely majestic in his dragon form, a far cry from the normally frail old shop keeper he was used to seeing. Tank waved, having spotted Peter as soon as he'd turned the corner. Returning his friend's gesture, all the time watching the master mantra maker, who seemed to be captivated by the lava pools on either side of the steps, Peter rushed on over to the plateau that Tank and Gee Tee stood on.
"Morning," greeted Tank, slapping Peter on the back.
"Hi," offered Peter, a little out of breath.
"Hello young one," announced Gee Tee, watching his reflection dance across the bubbling pool of lava.
"Hi Gee," put in Peter.
"So," said Tank, "How are you feeling Pete? Excited about seeing the king again, I bet? I know I am."
Nodding eagerly, Peter agreed with his friend.
"A small part of me's nervous of course, but I can't wait to see him and find out more about my grandfather."
"And don't forget," added Tank, "he's got some stuff to give you as well. You know, the stuff your grandfather left you."
"Oh yeah," quipped Peter, "I'd almost forgotten all about that. I wonder what on earth it could be?"
Gee Tee poked the lava in the pool with one of his well worn talons, all the time listening to the two youngsters.
"Anyway, now that we're all here, shall we proceed?" boomed the old shopkeeper.
Peter looked nervously at his watch.
"Ummm... it's not really time yet. We're still a little more than ten minutes early. I wouldn't want to catch the king unaware."
Gee Tee let out a loud chuckle, all the time stirring the lava pool.
"Poppycock child. It should be impossible to catch the king unaware, as by his very nature, he is the king. Anyway, I think you'll find he's already aware of our presence. Let us proceed without further delay." With that, the old shopkeeper grabbed a huge handful of lava and to the surprise of both Peter and Tank, splashed it all across his giant scaly face. Instantly Tank bolted forward, stopping a moment or two later, after seeing how much Gee Tee enjoyed the experience, so much so that he was shaking his head and roaring with delight, much as a dragon half his age would. Gee Tee turned and looked at the two youngster's gobsmacked expressions.
"It's good for the complexion, you know?" he announced, before letting rip a great big belly laugh and stomping off up the steps towards the building's entrance. Sharing a look, not knowing what to make of what had just gone on, both friends broke into smiles, before deciding it was best to catch up with the shopkeeper before he had a chance to make any more mischief.
Located directly behind the shiny new council building, the king's private residence could only be accessed through a newly built link bridge. By the time Peter and Tank caught up with Gee Tee, he'd just made his way into the lobby, tutting at this, huffing at that, nearly starting a fight with one of the King's Guards who were stationed throughout the building in abundance, for something he'd uttered under his breath. Tank quickly apologised and led his boss back towards the reception desk, where they all explained who they were and that they all had an appointment with the king. Unsure at first, the reception dragon checked the state of the art computer, confirming that they were indeed expected, and then sent them on their merry way, the brightly lit floor panels in front of them guiding them to their destination. It didn't take too long for the master mantra maker to start moaning about that either, much to Peter and Tank's amusement.
One of the oldest buildings in the whole dragon domain, the king's private residence was also one of the grandest. It had been the biggest landmark in and around Buckingham up until the new council building had been erected directly in front of it. Although the council building had only been up and running for the last year or so, the planning and building work for the spectacular structure had been going on for the best part of five years. That doesn't sound much, but in dragon terms that's a huge timescale, particularly when you think of the way in which their mantras can create, modify, warp or destroy pretty much anything, in very much the blink of an eye. When in the planning stage, the council building had been intended to be on a totally different site. It was only after dozens of meetings that the present site was discussed as a possibility, and even then, only as an afterthought. But the more the council, and in particular, the dragons responsible for security, thought about the idea, the more momentum it seemed to gather, Eventually, with the king's reluctant approval, the new council building came into being, right, smack bang in front of the king's private residence, with the only way now in or out, through the lobby of the brand new council building. It had been chosen this way purely for security reasons; in the unlikely event that the king was ever in danger, one way in and one way out was a lot easier to defend, and the council building's defences, although they didn't look like much, were the toughest in the dragon domain.
Peter, Tank and Gee Tee continued following the brightly lit floor panels, on a route that really made no sense at all. All three of them could tell that from a directional point of view, they'd doubled back on themselves three or four times already. By now, the old shopkeeper was getting very... disappointed.
"This is beyond ridiculous," he snorted.
"I agree wholeheartedly," added Peter. "It really doesn't make much sense at all."
Tank paused to think for just a second.
"I think I've read about this somewhere," he said quietly to the other two.
"And just where would that be?" enquired his bad tempered boss. "In a holiday magazine. A few hours in the council building will seem like a week, because that's how long it will take you to find your way to your destination."
Ignoring the aforementioned jibe, Tank continued.
"If I'm not mistaken, the computer guiding us is designed for security reasons, to never follow the same route twice, in any one day, all for the protection of the king, of course."
"I should have thought the king would have been able to protect himself," huffed the master mantra maker, his breath getting shorter all the time due to all the walking they'd done.
Just then the three of them turned a sharp corner and stood at the entrance to a raised glass walkway, known affectionately as the link bridge. Simultaneously, they all gasped at the view from the perfectly polished windows. Below them, dragon kings gone by were carved into the rock that supported the king's private residence; the attention to detail was staggering. Stunning white pillars ran down each side, some at least a quarter of a mile long. Arches made from the same bright, white rock towered overhead. Inscriptions circled the white pillars, while dragon faces stared out from the deep set arches. The walkway ran across what appeared to be a bottomless chasm, separating the brand new council building from the historic private residence of the king. In many ways it seemed a shame that the council building had been built right in front of the magnificent structure that housed the king in his free time. And Peter wasn't the only one to think so, with many members of the
dragon community at large having kicked up quite a fuss during the planning stage of the new council building. But security had won the day, trumping aesthetic beauty as it normally did here in the dragon world. Of course he could appreciate that from a defensive point of view, it was indeed very well protected. But protected from who? There had been no wars for a very long time, and unless the king knew something that nobody else did, then it all seemed a bit like overkill to him.
Leading the way across the link bridge, Peter nervously glanced down into the chasm. It made no sense of course, a dragon, even in a human body, being afraid of heights, but that's just how he was. Tank followed closely behind him, with Gee Tee scraping his tail along the glass at the back of the group, amused by Peter's fear of the chasm they were now crossing.
Once across the bridge, the trio walked beneath a large, white stone arch where, much to Gee Tee's relief, the guiding lights on the floor vanished. Continuing along the path they were all on, as there was nowhere else to go, the three remained totally silent, each in awe of the great building they found themselves in. It was rare for anyone to visit the king's private residence. Most of the king's business was carried out in the council chambers: council meetings, press briefings, bestowing honours, they were all worked through in the council building. Only the king's closest allies, friends and family were ever invited into his private residence, something all three of them were aware of now more than ever.
Exiting the short tunnel, a cooling breeze ruffled Peter's shoulder length hair in a rather pleasant sort of way, as he adjusted his eyes to the much brighter environment. A huge cone of flame swept its way out of Gee Tee's mouth in a moment of surprise at the amazing space they found themselves in. Tank, who'd been standing directly in front of the master mantra maker when it happened must, Peter thought, have experienced this from the old dragon before, as he reacted with super speed, throwing himself forward and then rolling off to one side, all in one silky smooth motion. Peter was impressed, both by Tank's quick reflexes and the heat from the flame that Gee Tee had generated. Most of the cone had been a searing blue, with a touch of white hot flickering orange and yellow around the outside, which was impressive for a normal dragon, but doubly so for an elderly one. For a split second, he wondered if the old shopkeeper had been at the Peruvian ink. He was pretty sure he hadn't. Peter knew that despite all the shopkeeper's bluster and bravado, he was as keen as anyone to visit the king, in this of all places.
