by Paul Cude
"While I do this," he declared, "I EXPECT everything in here to be put back in its rightful place." With that he turned and headed over to the stone plinths.
A shiver like a warm summer's breeze ran up both his arms, causing the hair on them to sway just a little. It wasn't what the old dragon said, he thought to himself, but more the way he'd said it. Grabbing handfuls of scattered jewellery off the floor, he started stuffing it back into the cubby hole from which Gee Tee had taken it, all the time glancing down at the rare and ancient ring on his finger.
Standing facing the cubby hole, having put everything back, including the discarded frame with the old dragon's official 'I'm a LORD' documentation, he knew it was now or never. This could be it. It must be it. The old dragon wouldn't have shown him this if he hadn't wanted him to use it. But why all the cloak and dagger stuff, the roundabout hints, instead of just saying... "You could use it on Richie." Not knowing, he found it frustrating and hard to understand. Perhaps it was a step too far for the old dragon, perhaps he didn't want to get in trouble with the council, or perhaps the whole thing had to be his own choice. Perhaps he was the only one that could choose to save Richie. Perhaps he was the only one who could risk everything to save her life. Either way, the time had come. Swiftly, shielding his hands, he slipped the ring off and slid it carefully into his right trouser pocket, behind his thick, worn wallet. Turning round innocently enough, he was just in time to see the master mantra maker finish touching all the ancient dragon runes. As he did so, a soft hum that he hadn't noticed before tailed off, and the air in the vault became so much... lighter.
"Time to go," announced Gee Tee, strolling purposefully back towards the exit, carrying the huge, glass jar of laminium rivets under one arm.
Looking around one last time at the magnificent treasures, barely able to believe some of the things he'd seen, a tiny sliver of guilt settled uneasily inside him. Meandering back through the plinths to join his friend, guilty thoughts at the back of his mind about the ring in his pocket and whether or not the old dragon knew he'd taken it, as well as if he'd actually have the courage to use it on his friend, bubbled away at the back of his mind. Only time would tell if he'd made the right decision.
21 Be MIND-Full Of The Ring
Sitting opposite each other, the two friends waited nervously, Peter messing with her phone, trying to take his mind off what was about to happen, Richie rifling through a magazine. Abruptly, a loud knock at the door signalled that time had finally run out. Letting out a delicate sigh, Richie got up, walked out of the living room and down the small, narrow staircase. Peter could hear her answer the door and then head back up. Standing, he waited for them to arrive.
In they marched like bouncers at a nightclub... fully suited, sunglasses, a shine to their shoes... the lot! Of the three, one was clearly in charge, and stepped forward.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? You're not supposed to be here. No one is!"
Gulping, more than a little intimidated by what he knew to be one of the most powerful and influential priests the dragon kingdom had to offer, he knew now that it was all or nothing.
"She's my friend," he pleaded. "Someone needs to watch over her... she deserves that much! That someone should be me!"
"Absolutely not," raged the priest. "Guards... remove him!"
Standing his ground, determined to fight if necessary, he tried not to show his nerves as the guards stepped towards him in their neatly pressed, dark suits.
"STOP!" shouted Richie, stepping in between the two warring factions. "There's no need for all this." Turning to look at her friend, a glum reflection plastered across her face, she tried to make everything right. "It'll be okay. I'll be fine. There's no need for you to stay. Come and see me in a few days... please?"
Touched by her words, it was a shame in some ways that he had his own agenda, and for it to work, he had to be with her.
"I'm sorry Rich... but I just have to stay. My earliest memories are of you. Of both of us in the nursery ring... playing, learning, flying... all my memories of all those things all have you in them. The thought of this happening breaks my heart. You're my best friend, my soul mate, my... dragon mate. You are now and you always have been. I won't leave... not now. Not ever!"
Richie stood agog, between Peter and the guards who were creeping ever closer. The priest, however, had heard enough.
"Bentwhistle... you know you can't be here. It simply isn't allowed."
"But why?" he asked. "What possible harm could it do? I give you my word that I won't interfere with the process. Your guards will make sure of that anyway. The council have made their decision and I know now that nothing else can be done. I've done everything in my power to try and get the council to change their sentence," (he'd written a heartfelt letter and asked for an audience to plead his case... which had been rejected out of hand), "but now it's been decreed, I want nothing more than to look after my best friend, and know that even though she'll remember nothing more of our world... just the tiniest sliver of my love for her will remain if I stay with her throughout. If nothing else, who knows, perhaps when she wakes all alone, frightened, scared and unsure, she will at least feel a little loved, and that may be of some comfort. If not to her, then it will be to me."
Everyone in the cramped room stood still. It was as tense as any standoff could get, with the guards ready to pounce, just waiting for the order. With the priest considering his words, Peter hoped he'd done enough. Richie just stared at him, tears streaming in and out of the freckles on her cheeks.
Breaking the silence, the tiny "tick tock" of the lacrosse themed clock on the wall echoed eerily around the room. Time seemed eternal as Richie's tears dropped from her face and, in perfect detail, plummeted onto the soft carpet.
It was then that the priest made up his mind.
"You can stay," he declared, "against my better judgement. But the first sign of trouble and you won't know what's hit you. I'll make sure you never find your sorry way above ground again! Do you understand?"
Nodding, he just about managed to squeak an, "I do."
As the guards stepped back, the priest stepped forward, something of an achievement in the confined space of Richie's flat.
"Do you understand the process and what will happen, young lady?"
Richie nodded in much the same way her friend just had.
"I do."
With more compassion than Peter would have given him credit for, particularly given how he looked, the priest whispered,
"I am truly sorry about this, and if there were any other options then I would gladly have tried to explore them. What we are about to do gives me no pleasure at all. But the council have ruled and we must all follow their guidance."
Richie just nodded.
Turning towards Peter, the priest started to explain.
"Since you're staying, you can help with an important part of the ceremony. Your friend here must be standing for the mantra to take effect, but as soon as it does, she will lose consciousness and collapse. You, if you will, may stand behind her and catch her as she falls. Then you may lift her up and place her on the sofa. Are you okay with that?"
Right down to the very last detail, Peter already knew what was going to happen. Not only had he done all the research he could, but he'd coaxed the old shopkeeper into telling him every aspect of the process. Gee Tee had come up trumps and described everything in glowing detail, right down to the exact words and their inflections, the fact that Richie would have to stand throughout, and also that she would have to keep her hands placed together behind her back. The master mantra maker had known it all and had willingly passed it all on to Peter, who'd got exactly what he wanted and now, more importantly... was exactly where he wanted and needed to be.
"Thank you," he said. "I'm most grateful. I just want to make sure she's alright. She means so much to me."
"I understand," replied the priest gently. "Just so that you know, once you've placed her, unconscious, on t
he sofa, we will all be leaving and YOU will not be able to return for the authorised number of days. There will be dragons watching this flat."
"I know," he croaked, more emotional than he'd thought he would be. "And that's fine."
"Good, then let's start," announced the priest, proceeding to move things around in the flat so that there was as much space as possible, with the sofa tucked against the back wall, furthest from the door. Standing Richie in the centre of the room, with Peter directly behind her and the sofa directly behind him, the priest prompted the young lacrosse playing dragon to place her hands together behind her back. At this point, Peter knew it was about to start. There were so many things he wanted to say, so much so that even if he'd had days to spill it all out, there still wouldn't have been enough time. So, knowing that it wasn't over despite the council, despite the priest, despite... EVERYTHING, he leaned forward until his chin rested on her shoulder, and whispered in her ear,
"Everything will be alright... TRUST ME!"
And with that... IT STARTED!
It was complicated. According to the old shopkeeper's description, in all it would take close to an hour and would require an incredible amount of concentration, effort, focus and power. He knew the priest must be an amazing dragon to be able to carry out what he considered to be a heinous task and also knew he'd only get one chance at what he had planned, and one chance only. So... he stood and waited. And waited. Standing behind his friend, within touching distance, a blank, accepting look on his face, he waited for the split second that would be his one and only opportunity.
Continuing to chant, the priest belted out the mantra which was in Messapian, an ancient Indo-European language originating in South East Italy and thought to have died out sometime after the 1st century BC. It was, he supposed, a good job that Gee Tee had told him what language the mantra was going to be in. Although he was fluent in many traditional tongues, most of the ancient ones were well beyond his ability to pick up. Like humans, some dragons are gifted when it comes to languages, some... not so much. Most certainly he fell into the latter category. But the old shopkeeper had run through it with him, then translated it, and then... made him memorise the latter part, the part in which he would be required to act, so much so that he could now have taken over from the priest.
Picturing the words in his head, he knew the moment was fast approaching. From his peripheral vision whilst staring ahead, he could see that the guards, who at first had been incredibly suspicious of his motives, had now relaxed just a fraction. Convinced that would be enough, his biggest worry was that one of the guards would have stood off to one side, making what he had to do very difficult, maybe not impossible, but very difficult. Because of the size and shape of the room, and with the sofa behind him, the guards had little choice but to stand by the door, behind and to either side of the priest. As his brain assessed the situation, the moment approached. Calming his mind, making sure to keep his expression fixed, as it had been throughout the whole process, he delicately slipped off the innocuous looking, matt grey, metal ring he'd been wearing on his right middle finger, and in one fluid motion slipped it over the middle finger of Richie's left hand. Instantly it constricted, shrinking to fit her delicate, pale finger perfectly. This was the part he'd worried about, and had been through a couple of sleepless nights thinking that Richie herself might give the game away at this point. During one of his dreams she'd stopped the whole process and he'd subsequently been dragged off by the guards, with the ceremony starting again from scratch. Holding his breath, Richie's hand tensed for the briefest moment, but quickly relaxed again. Much to his relief, the priest and the guards hadn't registered that anything untoward had happened. Casually, he held down the slightly raised triangle on the ring, continuing for as long as he dared, all the time looking forwards over Richie's shoulder. After a count of eight, he just about caught sight of a green flicker coming from around her hands. Moving his own hands away from the ring, he listened as the priest continued. Standing there, knowing that it wouldn't be long before the mantra finished, not being able to show any outward sign that he knew... his mind raced. Would it work like the old dragon had said? Would the priest come to realise what had happened? How would Richie react to what he'd done? Just maybe she'd be better off not knowing. Time and time again he'd debated this question, but the more he thought about it, the more he thought she'd want to know. As well, he deemed that he knew her better than any other dragon, and although he couldn't tell her what he had planned, he was certain she would approve.
Less than a minute after the ring had given off its green glow, the colour along the row of glowing triangles changed to blue. Although still looking forward, he was aware of what had happened.
'So far,' he thought, 'it's all going to plan.'
Moments later, the priest uttered the final word and Richie's whole body fell back into Peter's safe hands. As he caught her, quick as a flash he tugged the ring off her middle finger and slipped it back onto his ring finger. It fitted perfectly. As gently as he could, he carried her still body over to the sofa and delicately put her down, before arranging the cushions to make her as comfortable as possible, all under the inscrutable gaze of the priest and his guards. Without the guards seeing, he pulled out Richie's phone from his back pocket and slid it carefully under the sofa. Then he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her forehead before getting to his feet.
"It's time to leave," ordered the priest gruffly, thinking that this might be when any problems would occur.
But he couldn't have been more wrong. Squeezing past the two burly guards, Peter didn't even bother to look back, having done everything he'd planned to do. It was now out of his hands... or not, so to speak.
Leaving Richie's flat, he closed the door behind him and, looking sadder than he felt, headed off on foot into town, knowing that somewhere nearby dragons were watching his every action. All he wanted to do was act like they expected him to. Figuring walking into Salisbridge and then back home would throw them off a little, if it didn't... then so what? All he was going to do was go home, sit at his computer and... WAIT! He might have to wait for weeks, months even, or longer, he just didn't know. But what he did know was that he'd have his friend back. If he had to move the earth to do it... he'd have her back!
22 A Rude Awakening
Startled awake, her fuzzy brain tried to process what exactly was going on. Trying to sit up, a sharp pain erupted across her shoulders and up the length of her neck. Then it occurred to her where she was.
'I've slept on the sofa... all night!'
Sitting up straight while stretching her neck left and right, trying hard to shake the kinks out of it, she wondered about the source of her irritation. Apart from her knotted muscles, a blaring noise was blasting out from somewhere unseen. More annoying was the fact that it was the sound of someone blowing a raspberry, over and over again, constantly getting louder and louder. Standing up, she lurched forward, the twisted muscles around both knees causing her great pain. Frantically scrabbling around on the floor, her head pounded. Reaching as far under the sofa as she could, something sleek and solid fell into her grasp.
'There,' she thought, extracting nearly her entire arm. Instantly she hit the cancel button to stop the racket coming from the alarm on her phone. 'I don't remember even setting the alarm,' she mused, 'let alone adjusting it to that awful noise.' Placing the phone on the arm of the sofa, she flopped back down on it, letting its plump cushions engulf her, all the time rubbing her neck and shoulders.
Puffing out her cheeks and blowing out a deep breath, she wondered exactly what had been going on, unable to remember a thing from the night before, no matter how hard she tried; she thought that she'd gone to work yesterday, but even that was a bit of a blur. After a few minutes of concentrated recollecting, without getting much further, she gave in, leapt up, strolled over to the curtains and pulled them wide open. The view from this particular window was stunning, one of the reasons she'd chosen this flat in
the first place. In the distance she could just make out the spire of the ancient cathedral, watching over the natural wonder of the water meadows like a towering stone guardian. And this morning with the sun pouring onto it, the spire looked particularly splendid.
Abruptly a cold, biting sensation, emanating from the pit of her stomach, started to gnaw at her very being. Before she had time to contemplate what it was, a rush of emotion swept over her, almost bringing tears to her eyes. Confused and confounded, images of young children and warmly wrapped babies zipped across her consciousness as a mixture of feelings threatened to consume her. In the blink of an eye, they were gone, returned to normal, if that word could ever really be used to describe her.
Basking in the sun, she counted herself lucky to be alive on such a day and to live amongst such stunning beauty. Pulling back from the view, she decided that her muscles almost certainly needed the benefit of a long, hot shower, all the while cursing the minor blips in her memory.
As the hot, steamy water pelted her aching muscles, providing at least some relief, she focused on the day in front of her, wondering just how much training there was to be done at Cropptech. Smiling at the thought of it, she felt blessed to have a job she enjoyed so much. Life at the moment seemed just right.
23 Captor Captured
For her the tiniest piece of information would have done, would have resolved some of the worry, some of the angst. But not so. The nagas looking out for her in the room next door had disrupted her broken and disturbed sleep to inform her that they'd had word. At that very moment, she'd jumped to her feet, ready to join in and take her rightful place in this brave new world. But it couldn't be that simple, could it? Containing only three words, the message did little to quell the thoughts inside her.
