Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  Tank smiled. It wasn't just any smile. It was his... 'I know something you don't know' smile, usually reserved for a Latin name or some bizarre or ridiculous fact about a plant or animal.

  "So what's the... 'not-much-more' you mentioned?" asked the master mantra maker curiously.

  "After learning the metal was partly made up of laminium, the trader could think of little else. After all, as far as we know, that only boosts a being's telepathic ability. I've never come across any records of powers being blocked or altered in a negative fashion by it."

  Listening intently, Gee Tee nodded his agreement.

  "In his final entry the trader inadvertently made a startling discovery. While the metal was seemingly unbreakable he, in his illicit experiments (something the nagas had forbidden him to continue with, when they discovered what he was doing) had managed to use a mantra to convert the nagas' precious, unbreakable metal into pure laminium."

  Gee Tee bounded out of his chair, totally astonished.

  "ARE YOU SURE?"

  "That's what it said. However, those were the last words recorded in the journal. It was almost as if they'd been cut off. I searched the library high and low for anything else relating to this. There was nothing. Hence the reason I overslept, and was running late."

  "Yes, yes, yes... all that is of course forgiven. But a mantra, one that could change the properties of that metal, making it so vastly different. That must be something else."

  "Also," added Tank, not forgetting the true purpose of their mission, "it would free Peter's grandfather and the naga king. Their chains would not only become breakable, but would boost their powers, well, Fredrick's anyway, aiding their escape. And that's what we're ultimately aiming for."

  Nodding in agreement, the master mantra maker had a faraway look emblazoned across his face. Unexpectedly he turned towards his app... partner.

  "We need to figure out that mantra! And for that we need..."

  "Some of the nagas' metal. I'm already one step ahead of you."

  Gee Tee stood speechless.

  "I think I know where there is some. It might involve a little bit of criminal activity to get our hands on it though," ventured Tank, pained at the thought of breaking the law... any law.

  "Where do we start?" demanded the old shopkeeper, totally absorbed and ready to do whatever it took to get hold of that metal.

  "WE DON'T! It's just me, I'm afraid," said the young dragon, shaking his head, wishing more than anything that there was another way.

  25 Cliff Face

  It had been ten days since he'd last seen her, and that meeting haunted all his thoughts and dreams. She'd turned up unannounced with her friends, Peter and Tank, in tow. It seemed odd to think of them all as dragons... Tank maybe, but Peter the hockey player seemed the most unlikely dragon of all. Anyhow, she'd stayed for an hour or so, which apparently was the most that was allowed, and only then by express permission of the king, who it turned out had some kind of relationship with Peter. On that she didn't expand. It had almost been like old times... well, except that now he was a dragon, and she was... WHAT? An ex-dragon now turned fully human who was about, by all accounts, to have her mind wiped and be expelled permanently from the dragon world. Who didn't see that coming?

  'Perhaps they should write a book about it,' he mused, the warm breeze brushing gently across his scales.

  Looking amazing, despite all the injuries, he was surprised that they hadn't fully healed given how long ago they'd occurred and the marvellous powers of the dragon healers. But she'd explained that it was some kind of side effect of what had happened when she'd cracked open the alea and whispered the shield mantra. Even having had it explained to him at least a dozen times, he still didn't fully understand it. The brief time that they chatted flew by, and then it was time for her to leave. Noticing the fear in her eyes, the regret, the sorrow at having got him involved, the tears being held forcibly in check, like characters in a television show they played their parts, her saying she'd see him again, him nodding enthusiastically, knowing full well it wasn't going to happen. And then she turned and left, gone, not coming back.

  So it had been quite a surprise when Peter had turned up at his quarters earlier on in the day. Hoping she would be with him, it soon became apparent that she wasn't. Wanting to ask about her, as soon as he'd started, the hockey playing dragon shook his head in warning, confirming what he'd somehow assumed, that he was being watched in some sort of capacity. So they'd chatted about life on the surface, the destroyed clubhouse, how the hockey teams were doing, until the conversation turned to other more scaly subjects. In particular... FLYING! And that, he thought, was how he found himself balanced precariously on the edge of a stunning cliff, overlooking the mother of all drops into a roiling sea of lava so far below it was difficult to make out the bottom. Like a well worn set of tyres from a Formula One car, he too was about to 'drop off the cliff', the very thought of which scared the living daylights out of him. And standing not ten feet away was a very smiley Peter, waving and urging him on.

  Right at this very moment, Peter was incredibly proud, not just of Tim, but of himself. That morning the king had got in touch, explaining that the dragons looking after Tim's welfare and training were having no luck in getting him to do anything. It seemed as though he just couldn't be bothered, despite being informed about the prophecy and his supposed role in it. This struck Peter as odd, knowing what a well rounded, hard working and motivated human being he'd been. The king had asked Peter if he wouldn't mind seeking out the newly formed dragon, with a view to seeing if a friendly face could be of some help and maybe coax some cooperation out of him. It was a request and not an order, one that Peter was more than happy to comply with. So he'd turned up nice and early at the facility where Tim was... he wanted to say staying, but in reality it was more like 'being held'. Part of him wanted to point this out to the staff there, but as usual he'd chickened out and didn't. So after security had checked with the king's private office, and having signed to take full responsibility for Tim, the two of them headed out into the big, wide, world of the dragon domain, but not before Peter had arranged the largest cloak he'd been able to find at such short notice, fastening it across Tim's shoulders, covering all his back and wings as well as a good deal of his chest, head and legs. It wouldn't do for the public at large to learn that a totally white dragon was stalking around the domain, or much would be made of the legendary prophecy, with Tim's privacy and anonymity gone forever.

  As they sauntered towards the nearest monorail station, Tim could barely keep his eyes and tongue in his newly formed, oversized head. It was all so new and different. Things that Peter took for granted astounded the normally unflappable Tim. Buildings and walkways, far off ceilings, sizzling streams of lava dribbling down walls and running beneath floors. Dragons in every conceivable shape and size, walking, flying, bounding in, around and across their route. And then of course there was the... MONORAIL! Turning up at the station, unusually with no train already there, Peter pointed out the time the next one was due (10.24 and 32 seconds). Tim, convinced Peter was having him on about the 32 seconds, watched in amazement as the clock hanging over the station platform displayed 10.24 and 28 seconds, and a huge rush of air preceded the rounded silver nose of the lead monorail carriage pulling up right in front of them, exactly at the time stated. It was all the new dragon could do to remain upright.

  With dragons boarding and embarking all around them, Peter guided Tim onto the carriage, the ex-human giggling uncontrollably when shown the seats with the holes in the back for tails to go through, much to the consternation of other passengers. And so they'd made their way to Purbeck Peninsula, one of Peter's favourite places and the one he thought of as his second home, having grown up in the nursery ring there.

  Throughout their entire journey, dragons old and young hadn't been able to take their eyes off Tim. Those with just the faintest smidgen of white adorning their bodies were something of a rarity, but with this much
white on show (his face and tail,) he proved to be something of a curiosity. It was a good job they hadn't cottoned on to exactly how white he actually was, and that Peter had thought to cover most of him up.

  Having criss-crossed the highly populated urban part of Purbeck, Peter led as Tim followed on the well worn, secretive trail that led to the wonder that was Lava Falls, a little known phenomenon, only really known to locals and the nursery ring students, who were all very solemnly sworn to secrecy about its location. Excited to see what Tim's response would be, he wasn't disappointed when Tim went mad on seeing the falls themselves. Raging river rapids of lava thundered off to their right, churning and swirling, spitting and hissing, the fiery madness rumbling over the lip of the cliff they were both standing on, tumbling into the chasm of despair below, all the time producing a fine, toxic mist that washed high into the air all around them, reflecting light in almost a rainbow of colours for all to see. Like something out of a fairytale, albeit one with deadly fumes that could overcome in a matter of seconds in the wrong condition, the temperatures would almost put to shame any of the planets closer to the sun.

  Both sitting down not far from the rocky, underground entrance, a long way back from the edge of the falls, Tim asked why they'd come here. Explaining that this was where he'd learnt to fly, purposefully neglecting to mention the concentric ringed structure from which young dragons took their first glided flights in the nursery ring itself, Peter hoped that this would spur the newly formed dragon into giving things a go. Unfortunately it seemed to totally backfire, with Tim becoming frightened, shaky and unsure, wanting to return back to his confined quarters. Using all his skills, Peter just about managed to turn things around, getting the white dragon to reluctantly agree to stay, although he got the impression that he could bolt at any moment. Instead of pressuring the brand new dragon into doing something he really didn't want to, they just sat and talked. Peter recalled his time in the nursery ring, recounting some of his adventures with Tank and Richie. Tim listened intently, lost in thought at the mere mention of her name. The two understood what it was to love her, albeit in very different ways.

  "You love her," declared Tim, after hearing another one of Peter's endless tales.

  More than a little perturbed, Peter wouldn't have wanted to have this conversation with himself in the privacy of his own home, let alone with Tim who was very obviously still in love with Richie and had quite a lot of issues of his own to deal with at the moment. Still, he considered his answer carefully, determined to let this newly fledged dragon hear the truth.

  "I do," he replied after some time, "but not in the way you think."

  Tim tilted his large head to one side inquisitively.

  "Go on."

  "For years I wanted her to notice me as a potential mate and not just her best friend. But it never happened. Not for the want of trying on my part either, I might add. I always assumed I'd get my chance. But the more I've seen of her recently, the more I know I could never compete, or be what she's looking for. She wants something more... something I just can't give her. I can't tell you what it is, or even how I know. But she does. And whatever it is that she's looking for, I truly hope she can find it. On the occasions I've seen the two of you together, she's looked happy... truly happy, which came as something of a revelation I must admit. If I'm honest, a part of me is glad. I value our friendship far too much to risk doing something stupid to mess it up. I would be devastated if something ever happened to that, so in reality nothing was ever going to happen. It was all a made up fantasy. But that's all a moot point with everything that's happened recently. I just hope she finds some small crumb of comfort and happiness with whoever she ends up with in her controlled human existence."

  Tim nodded his agreement, not really sure whether he meant it or not. But he did pick up on the bitterness Peter's words carried. Clearly, he thought, the other dragon was none too happy about the turn of events leading up to Richie being banished from the dragon world and living out the rest of her days as fully human.

  And so here they were, standing on the edge of Lava Falls, both as nervous as each other. Tim didn't want to jump, scared that all the theory about flight which had been drummed into him would fail to work when it most counted, while Peter was more and more convinced with every second that passed that this was a bad idea and that he could go down in history as the dragon responsible for the demise of the famed white dragon from THE prophecy. Things were more tense than the final hole of the Ryder Cup.

  But somewhere deep inside Tim, a little spark of humanity jumped up and said, "To hell with it!" So he jumped. The best that could be said of it was... ungainly. Truth be told it was about the least perfect leap a dragon could make off a cliff. Both wings were for the most part still folded, and he'd fallen (for that's what had really happened) at something of an angle. It wasn't helped by a vicious updraft that had caught his right side the moment he'd cleared the edge, spinning him violently.

  Looking on open mouthed, Peter was too stunned to move. At first, anyway. A mere fraction of a second later his brain started screaming "EMERGENCY!" at the top of its voice, prompting him into action. Hurling himself off the cliff, cursing the fact that he'd worn his favourite pair of light blue jeans, tears dribbled from his eyes as a howling gale blew his long 80's hair back over his shoulders and the noxious gases seared the back of his throat. Unleashing his own personalised mantra that would affect the change to his bodily form, the twisted tingling sensation in his stomach exploded into action. Shooting off like a champagne cork, the button on his jeans disappeared into the misty haze of thundering lava, as his clothes screamed at the sudden pressure they found themselves under. The contest was short lived, with the rest of his human clothes ripping at the seams before fluttering off into the smog as he arrowed into the depths, all the time watching the out of control Tim far below him.

  In the meantime, Tim had gone from full blown panic, to resignation to a fiery death, to... hmmmm, I might just be getting the hang of this. Opening up his wings, which any dragon egg could have told you was a good place to start, he was currently shifting his strong, muscle laden tail back and forth, flexing it in the middle, trying desperately to control his direction. Amazed at just how easy it was to move and how much of an effect it was having, up until now he'd only really thought of the cumbersome appendage as nothing more than a complete waste of time. It was, however, starting to make some sense. And just at that point, it all went horribly wrong.

  A combination of moving his tail down when it should have been up, tilting his left wing too far back behind him, and a section of rock jutting further out from the cliff that he'd failed to notice, had dire consequences for the white dragon. Catching his wing on the rock, which appeared from nowhere out of the lava driven mist, he was spun around with such speed and force that he never had a chance of controlling it. Watching from above as Tim smashed head first into the rock face, starting an ungainly slide towards the hidden depths, Peter kicked his tail out and poured everything he had into his wings, knowing that the boiling sea of molten magma was getting ever closer.

  Shaking off the ringing in his ears, Tim had the presence of mind to kick off from the rock face he was currently sliding down, in an effort to get more space and free air. As he tumbled head over heels he caught sight of another dragon speeding towards him from above. Hoping it was Peter, he couldn't be entirely sure because he'd never seen the hockey playing dragon in his natural state. Belatedly he remembered to try and flap his wings. Doing so momentarily slowed down his tumble, which was both good because he could get his bearings and at least see which way was up, but bad because he'd spotted a bubbling sea of brilliant red lava looming ever closer, looking to envelop his newly created prehistoric body. Eyes bulging with fear, he let loose a terrified scream that echoed back up the chasm, assaulting Peter's ears on the way past.

  Knowing it was now or never, Peter gave it all he had, the muscles in his tail and wings burning furiously from the ef
fort he'd put in, his determination to save Tim from the hair brained scheme he'd got him caught up in fuelling his will to succeed. With the gap closing, he was almost there. But the gloopy sea of thick, bubbling lava was just too close. With only seconds to go, it looked as though they were both going for an unconventional swim. As the thought entered Peter's mind, a wonderful sight emerged directly before him. Tim had managed to get himself the right way up and currently had both wings outstretched. It was magnificent to see a completely white dragon, wings unfurled, buffeted by the wind, looking for all the world like the legend that he should be. But the momentum he'd gained on the fall down was just too much, and was about to plummet him into the lava. Instinctively, Peter knew exactly what to do. Ignoring the harmful gases scraping away at the back of his throat, he pushed on that little bit more, gaining enough ground to put himself directly beneath Tim. With the lava only yards away now, he channelled all his power into coming out of the steep dive, and sped up and away from the deadly looking sea of red. For his part, Tim had no idea what was going on. Wings spread, tail elongated, one moment he was destined for the mother of all splash downs, the next moment a weight from beneath him forced him up. It was a shock, that's for sure, but a pleasant one given the alternative. Having pulled, or pushed depending on how you looked at it, Tim out of his dive of death, Peter kicked out his tail, flapped his trembling wings, and with his head against the underside of Tim's belly, continued to push skyward. Warm air rushing over him tickled his scales, nuzzled his nostrils, making him feel... invincible. As a brand new dragon he had nothing to compare it with, but it reminded him of those 'perfect' moments you occasionally get. He'd had a few in his life... interestingly, all whilst playing hockey. Running down the wing, sunlight warming his exposed arms, the ball on the end of his stick, heading at speed towards the opposition's goal, at a mixed tournament down in Worthing, sprang to mind immediately. A diving goal line save at his home festival in Salisbridge came flooding back. Scoring the perfect goal in a cup game as time had almost run out. All were perfect moments for him, when time had seemed to stop and he'd captured and remembered the emotions and feelings of that individual instant. This, to him, felt like another one of those.