Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  Expertly skipping around half a dozen badly damaged paving stones and the puddles they had inadvertently created, he recognised the single, run down shop on the road. Selling new and old guitars, he'd stopped to gaze in its window on both his previous visits, but not tonight, not in the cold and wet. However, as he trudged past he spotted something in the angled side window that led into the doorway and showed the scene directly behind him. Just for a moment, he'd spotted someone across the other side of the road, dressed very darkly, clinging to the shadows. Forcing himself to continue on in the same stride, he knew that anything unusual on his part would give things away to his pursuer.

  Mind racing, fearing what might happen, a host of questions popped into his head. Who was it? What did they want? Were they human, dragon, naga or something else? His thoughts then turned to what he could do. Unable to phone Richie... what good would she be, now that she was no longer a dragon? Tank might be of some use, but he was pretty sure the big fella was on a coaching course somewhere else. And as for Flash, he could be just about anywhere in the world, and would almost certainly be doing something ever so important. And then it hit him. Flash... that was the key... the spy craft that he'd run through at the Mantra Emporium. Perhaps he could use some of the knowledge that had been passed on that evening. So stopping at a junction and waiting for a car to pass before crossing to the other side, a huge smile wiggled across his face for the first time in days, all thoughts of Janice momentarily lost.

  For the next few minutes, he continued walking back the way he'd come, glad that at least he'd gotten Aviva's dagger to the vault some time ago, before twice catching a fleeting glimpse of whoever was tailing him, both times in the wing mirrors of parked cars. Mind whirring as he walked, running through all the possibilities and permutations, until one stuck out. Instantly he knew just what he had to do.

  At the next junction he turned left, veering off from the quickest way home. Not wanting to go into the city centre itself, he'd decided on the outskirts... there was a little alley that ran along the river, past the back of a couple of pubs and then out into one of the main car parks, across which he could walk, leaving him only a few minutes from home. Knowing the alley was scarcely used and that it was something of a risk in the dark, late at night, given that it was especially secluded, it was the perfect place for the sand trap mantra that Gee Tee had taught them in the shop. More confident now, he picked up the pace, striding purposefully through the damp, the wind having picked up enough to almost have dried his hair. Cutting through a children's park, past the renowned arts centre, he cut down two small side streets and then turned sharply into the darkened alleyway. On facing the all encompassing blackness ahead, he almost paused, barely able to see the pinprick of light that represented the end of his short journey. Striding on, all the time looking down at the floor, searching for just the right place, the mantra in his head was ready to be deployed. And then he saw it, three paces in front of him, as far as he could see in the dark. A metal drain cover. He knew just what to do. Whoever was following him would want to skip over the cover and avoid making any noise, and since it was quite big and took up most of the alley, they would almost certainly have to land just the other side of it. So he made a big play of walking onto the cover, which obediently made a suitable ringing noise that echoed back down the alleyway. As he was on top of it, he cast the mantra onto the ground directly beyond it and then walked on, desperate to turn around and see if his pursuer was there, but knowing that it was best not to. Lightening his footsteps to see if he could hear anything from behind, he listened intently, not really expecting very much. In the distance, he could just make out the light from the street lamp, signalling that he'd nearly reached the end of the alley. It was then that he heard it. More of a squeak than a yell, he turned without thinking, looking back on the path he'd already trodden. In the darkness he could just make out the shape of a man, a man trying hard to walk. I say walk, it looked as though he was wading in treacle, bringing both his legs up as high as his hips, almost as if he were climbing a stile. Confusion gripped Peter. Part of him wanted to laugh it was so funny, but another, much angrier part wanted to confront whoever it was and find out exactly why they'd been following him. In the end he turned around and jogged off, settling for just knowing his pursuer would be stuck like that for the best part of a day, happy that he'd managed to get himself out of a fix, with of course a little help from the master mantra maker's magic.

  37 Welsh Hideaway

  Another day passed and still no word. No more than she'd previously had from the nagas guarding her. Deep down, she knew it would take time, even if everything ran smoothly. And if it didn't, then the timetable could be anything. She missed him. It seemed like an age since they'd last been together. Part of her worried, worried that he might have changed his mind about her, found someone else. But she knew deep down that was an impossibility. They were bound together in love and in deeds that they'd done. It was meant to be. Rolling her legs back onto the bed she knew that she needed to rest; she had to be strong and full of energy for when he arrived, knowing that her skills might well be needed. As soon as her eyes closed she was asleep, thoughts once again drifting back to a previous time that seemed almost like someone else's life.

  Narrowly escaping the King's Guard in Swanage had caused them both a great deal of soul searching and heartache. The idyllic life they'd shared had been shattered, torn viciously away from them. Looking back it was almost inevitable in the end, but that didn't take away the hurt and bitterness they both felt. Knowing that they were further away from their precious egg was what really cut deep, despite the fact that they had agreed never to go near it, or the dragon that hatched from it, ever again.

  After weeks spent sleeping rough and avoiding any kind of built up area, both of them finally agreed on what needed to be done. They'd hidden a good deal of the money that they'd stolen after escaping prison, and having retrieved the large sum only a few days earlier, were now on their way to a much more secluded destination. They could have chosen to go anywhere on the planet, but both had agreed that there was as much chance of a dragon encounter there as there would be if they stayed within the borders of Great Britain, somewhere both regarded as their home, despite the traitorous crimes they'd both committed during their time in France. So they'd decided on somewhere remote, out of the way, somewhere the dragons would hopefully never think to look. Somewhere they could live together on their own, enjoying their time together for the rest of their lives.

  With the money that they'd stolen, they purchased a tiny little cottage about two miles north of Llansanffraid on the west coast of Wales, overlooking the sea on one side, surrounded by rolling green countryside on the other. It was idyllic. They would pop into town every week, tending to keep themselves to themselves. To start with, the locals were a little suspicious, but their perfect accents (claiming to have come from Aberdaron, further to the north, in the hope that no one would be able to prove otherwise) helped them seamlessly blend in over a period of months, which slowly turned into years.

  One harsh winter's day, they popped into town to stock up on some essentials, walking there like they always did, the cold weather attacking their heat favouring bodies. It was painful, no matter how many layers they wore. They were after all dragons, and all dragons have an affinity for the heat and despise the cold. Nevertheless, they endured. On arriving in town, they made straight for the shop, sliding across the icy road and treacherous path on the way. Having purchased bread, eggs, milk, potatoes, onions and carrots, they thanked the shopkeeper and his wife, opened the door and walked out into the street. At that exact moment a car approaching from the west, going a little too fast, lost control on the icy surface of the road and mounted the pavement on their side of the street. Earth, surprisingly, was quite slow on the uptake. Her husband wasn't. Instinctively, he pushed her back into the shop doorway, causing her to slip and fall. By then, he'd made another decision. Fifteen feet in front of him, the
daughter of the shop owners was playing with a skipping rope. Aged seven or eight, she was oblivious to the approaching danger of the out of control car. Given everything they'd done in their previous lives, it was unnatural for him to even think of saving the girl. But he'd changed since being here, since living the life he'd always dreamed of, with the woman he loved. Impulsively he acted, selflessly and with the courage of many men. Earth could only sit and watch in horror, mouth open in shock as events unfolded. Springing towards the girl, whose face twisted in torment as he approached at speed, she dropped the skipping rope just as he reached her, mouth hanging open, too scared to even scream. Grasping her tightly, he hurled her up into his arms. And then the car was upon them. With no other option, he jumped for all he was worth. As the car careered into the wall next to where the little girl had been standing, he twisted in mid-air, using his body to protect the helpless child. A loud CRUNCH accompanied the first impact, his hip taking the full force of the windscreen, immediately followed by the THUD of his back smashing fully into the bonnet of the car. With the youngster cradled safely from danger, he ignored the mind numbing pain of the collisions and concentrated on continuing his roll, slowing his speed and delivering her back to her parents in one piece. Bouncing off the vehicle, he tucked in, threw all his weight to his right and hit the ground with a bone shattering THUMP, taking the full force of the icy street on his right shoulder. Rolling over so that the child was on top of him, he lay prone, unable to move, in the middle of the chilling street. It had all happened so fast, in a matter of seconds really. Having managed to regain her feet after being thrown into the doorway, Earth hadn't realised what was happening until it was much too late. She could have used her abilities; the magic, as always, bubbled away inside her, just beneath the surface. But she'd been too slow to react and now he lay there, damaged and broken for all to see.

  Now it was all over, the child's body remembered to scream. And scream it did, at the top of its voice, waiting for her parents' warm, safe embrace. Steam poured from the car's radiator as it sat embedded in the wall of the house next to the shop. Carrots, potatoes and onions rolled around the pavement. Cracked eggs, a puddle of milk and broken glass covered the shop doorway. The jingle of the bell floated across the air as the shop owners raced out onto the street, narrowly avoiding the mess from the dropped shopping. The still screaming young girl raced into her parents' arms. Earth side-stepped them and dashed over to her husband. Pedestrians from all around came rushing over to join her.

  Eyes closed, he looked as though he was fighting some sort of battle to remain conscious, if she was any judge. Aware of all those around her, she pleaded with him to wake up. But to no avail.

  Kneeling over him, she cradled his head in her hands, able to feel exactly what he was doing. She had a sense of just how bad his wounds were: broken ribs, shattered pelvis, damage to his internal organs. Desperate to lend him her strength, she knew that it was too much of a risk given the gathered crowd. Already there was talk of an ambulance on the way, pretty much the last thing the two of them needed, given exactly how hard they'd tried to keep a low profile. More than a few minutes passed before a loud breath startled the crowd into moving back. Opening his eyes, and despite Earth's protestations, he sat up. A loud murmur whispered around the crowd.

  "I should sit still if I were you," announced one onlooker. "There's an ambulance on the way."

  Turning to his wife, they both shared the same thought. They had to get out of here, back to the safety of their cottage. With the damaged car hissing, spluttering and steaming away behind them, gingerly he rose to his feet. The gathered crowd were dumbstruck.

  "I'm alright... really," he mumbled. "Just a few bruises, nothing too serious. Not enough to require an ambulance anyway. I think we'll just wander on back home. A couple of days' rest and I'm sure I'll be as good as new."

  Nobody wanted to argue. So with his arm around Earth's shoulder, they turned as one and headed in the direction of their home. From out of nowhere, the shopkeepers stepped out in front of them.

  "What you did was so brave. Thank you very much," said the girl's mother, clutching the young child close to her.

  "You're welcome," replied Earth's husband, trying hard to force even the faintest semblance of a smile onto his face.

  "If there's anything you ever need, just ask," declared the girl's father, handing them a bag full of all the things they'd just lost.

  Earth and her husband nodded, before heading back up the street, turning the corner and disappearing off into the distance, eager to get back to their cottage.

  They couldn't have known it at the time, but their good deed was about to cost them dear. In a house across the other side of the road, an old woman had seen everything. Regarded as a nosy neighbour by all of the insular community, it was something that didn't really bother her. She too kept herself to herself, not mixing with others unless she really had to. And her reason wasn't too far removed from that of Earth and her husband's reason. You see, she was a dragon, one that had been cast out for nothing more than a minor transgression, at least that's how she saw it. But having witnessed the events of the last ten minutes or so, she was sure that she'd been privy to something important, something the dragon world would want to know about... something that could be traded for the end of her exile. So she set about contacting the relevant dragons, with a view to bargaining for her return.

  38 The Element Of Surprise

  About ten minutes, that's how long it took to walk from Camelot Arcade to the nearest monorail station. It seemed a lot longer, probably because all the two of them had done was muck about. Tank constantly tried to trip Flash up (something that hadn't happened yet, despite his best efforts) while the ex-Crimson Guard kept knocking his meaty friend's rugby kit bag (something so big, you could probably have fitted a couple of small adults in it) off his shoulders. Childish didn't begin to describe it. But they were happy and their laughter echoed throughout the surrounding tunnels, streets, roads and paths that they crossed, much to the consternation of the dragons around them. On their way to the charity sports day in Salisbridge, with Tank due to play, Flash was keen and excited about watching and meeting up with Peter and Richie much later on, having some thrilling news to tell them all... at least it was thrilling to him, and he hoped it would be to them. It would ultimately mean that he'd get to see much more of the unconventional trio he was so proud to call his friends. Recently he'd decided, and it flew in the face of pretty much everything he believed in, to follow Tank's example and take up playing rugby. For some time now he'd marvelled at his friends' passion for their respective sports, finding it unfathomable at first. It made no sense at all. But the more time he spent in their company (something he enjoyed immensely) the more he felt compelled to join them. Deciding which sport to try hadn't been easy, but listening to Tank talk, animatedly, time and again about the coaching he did and the games he played in, narrowed down the difficult choice. So later on that night, in whatever setting they found themselves, he planned to announce his decision, in the hope that they would approve. Backslapping, hair ruffling and high jinks all continued, even on the monorail, with disapproving looks the order of the day from all the other commuters.

  Mere minutes later they arrived, announced by the customary whoosh of the carriage doors. Joining the throng of dragons heading out onto the platform and wading up the stairs, both friends continued their antics. It was a shame really. If they'd been paying more attention to their surroundings, they might just have recognised the danger earlier, saving themselves a whole world of pain.

  Reaching the top of the stairs, that's when he noticed it, but by then they were both being dragged across the plaza by the crowd of dragon passengers. It felt to him as though someone were scratching his brain... at first anyway. With everything that was going on, it was hard to make head or tail of the strange sensation. And then a feeling of total and utter dread washed over him, along with the sense of something very, very familiar. Inst
antly his body exploded into action, every nerve ending, every cell, ready and waiting to burst. Across the plaza in front of them, the crowd had stopped, some even backing away. Flash's mind had just worked out what he'd sensed... NAGAS!

  'Here, now?' he thought, perplexed. Gripping Tank by the elbow as they fought their way to the front of the crowd, Flash was determined to find out what was going on and confront it head on, whilst at the same time protecting his friend. Ducking beneath the wings of two retreating dragons, all the time pulling Tank with him, Flash rose up to his full height, ready to act. But the sight that greeted him was the very last thing he expected. Automatically, his mind raced through the options open to him.

  Bumped and bruised from being dragged through the crowd by his friend, Tank stood agog at what lay before them, and what the crowd in the plaza all seemed to be trying to escape from. It looked a little like a flare going off, sitting there all alone, brilliant green smoke pouring forth, like something akin to an industrial chimney. There was, however, more to the object at the middle of the mass. A shimmering, deep blackness, swirling hypnotically at the very centre, was what caught Tank's eye. There and then he knew he had only a matter of moments to react.

  In less than a heartbeat, Flash's mind reached a decision, his body flying into action. Releasing his grip on Tank, he sprinted for all he was worth towards what he knew to be a highly unstable heavy element, having seen them before, many times, commonly used by terrorist groups throughout the domain. I say commonly... perhaps not so much. Decades generally pass before one of these so called terrorist groups raises their heads above the parapet, and then are normally swiftly dealt with by the dragon authorities... usually the Crimson Guards. The weapons in question come in all shapes and sizes, all with very different properties and effects, ranging from concussion and sonic blast waves to deadly area of effect explosions, able to inflict the kind of death and carnage only ever seen in a dragon's worst nightmare. Midway through his run, all his mind could think was,