Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  "What are we going to do... give them all a shower?"

  "Now, now, little one," admonished the master mantra maker, waving his index finger at her. "That's not the attitude is it? Besides, that's not just any water. It's Romanian heavy water."

  Hook looked more than a little unsure.

  "Here's what you do," ventured the old dragon, as he moved to the back of where Hook was standing. "Draw the gun, adjust the flow regulator and arm the backpack," he said, slipping the rifle-like object from the other side of the pack, on which he turned a small, silver knob totally clockwise, and then flicked an ancient looking switch hidden right underneath, causing the whole thing to hum gently.

  "Now, just point and shoot," he gestured to Hook.

  Reluctantly the gentle giant pointed the end of the rifle in the direction the dragon had gesticulated and pulled the trigger. Sluggishly, a great big squirt of gloopy looking liquid jumped out and hit the house about twenty yards away. It did nothing but cling to the wall.

  "There you go, what did I tell you?"

  "That's great," sighed Richie, "but what exactly is it supposed to do?"

  "Ahhhh... for that, you'll need a dragon my dear. But let's just say that they won't like it, and it WILL have the desired effect."

  Shrugging her shoulders, Richie raised her eyebrows theatrically. Given his track record, she remained more than a little sceptical about what use, if any, the heavy water was going to be. Still, Hook seemed to be enjoying practising with the weapon.

  One by one, the master mantra maker beckoned the rest of the friends forward, all except Janice. The others all received bandoliers that strapped across their chests, all holding different types of grenades. Some were smoke grenades that made it almost impossible to see, some were electrical grenades that caused shock and momentary paralysis. Gee Tee explained how to arm the five second fuses on them, and how best to throw them at their intended target. Next, Janice was asked to step forward. Tentatively, she did so. Noticing the worry in her face, the old shopkeeper did his best to buoy her spirits.

  "Hmmmm... I know all about YOU!" he remarked menacingly, recalling the trip inside Peter's mind.

  Instantly, Janice took two steps back, as the old dragon leaned forward and put his ancient reptilian head right in her face. Tiny little flames sizzled and danced from inside his nostrils.

  "You must be something special to capture the heart of a dragon," he whispered so that no one else could hear. "I know why you're here and will tell you only this. It will be hard to find a more honest, loyal, brave and trustworthy being. Tread carefully, little one, he thinks the world of you."

  Janice's heart raced, and she had to remind herself to breathe. He'd almost confirmed what she thought she knew from the events of the night so far. All she could think was... 'He's a dragon!'

  Pulling his face slowly back from hers, the master mantra maker declared,

  "It'll be okay... honest. There's nothing to worry about... well, there is actually. But I've saved the best for last, well, almost." Reaching deep inside the backpack, the old shopkeeper pulled out the most mesmerising thing the whole group of them had ever seen. It gleamed from almost impossible angles, so shiny was the metal it was made from. Its design was so sleek and unusual that it looked like something from far in the future. However, those features weren't what made it stand out. Surrounding the blade of the knife/sword, as that was the only way to describe it due to its significant length, was a kind of moving frost that circled continuously. It gave off an eerie, light blue glow while spluttering and hissing ever so slightly. It looked AWESOME! Gee Tee held it out for Janice, encouraging her to take it as everyone else looked on, slack jawed. Taking a deep breath, the petite blonde stepped forward and grabbed the surprisingly comfortable hilt. Waving it around a few times, she created a kind of blue trail across the air in front of her, much as a child would do with a sparkler on bonfire night. All she could think was how light and natural it felt in her hand. Looking on, the old shopkeeper seemed pleased with his selection.

  "This," he announced, "is my pride and joy. It's the only one of its kind, and was forged by a Chinese dragon more than two thousand years ago. Nobody's ever been able to recreate that feat, despite many having tried. It is thought to have been crafted by a master weapon smith by the name of Fu-ts'ang. So revered was Fu-ts'ang that he was written into ancient Chinese mythology, having special responsibility for the minerals of the earth and is sometimes known, even to this day, as the Dragon of Hidden Treasures. Hence the weapon is known only as Fu-ts'ang. You should refer to it as if you were referring to a person. Do you understand child?"

  Swallowing involuntarily, Janice just about managed to mumble,

  "Yes... sir."

  "Ohhhh... 'sir'," said the master mantra maker, turning to Richie. "I like her, she can stay."

  Janice blushed fiercely.

  "Now listen carefully, child. It's a serious responsibility you bear. This weapon will cut its way through just about anything: metal, stone, even with the necessary intent behind it... dragon. Probably not fatally, but you could in theory remove a dragon's tail, rendering it off balance and relatively defenceless. But here, today, that's not your main purpose. I will now demonstrate. Little one," the old shopkeeper whispered, referring of course to Richie, "please would you go and stand in front of us, with your back turned."

  Striding forward ten paces, Richie turned to face the other way, having heard about the master mantra maker's demonstrations she was far from keen to have anything to do with one. It was bad enough that he made her idiot friend participate on a regular basis. Abruptly her thoughts turned to Tank, hoping they were in time to save him, if that were even possible. Before she knew it, a strange sensation dripped down her back. Just as she was about to turn round to find out what was going on, she experienced the most painful sensation she'd ever felt in her entire life. Worse still, she was paralysed.

  Whilst Richie had been facing the other way, Gee Tee had gotten Hook to fire a burst of heavy water at her, as he sneaked up behind her and touched Fu-ts'ang to a trailing part of the heavy water covering her. Immediately her whole body froze. As it did so, he turned and addressed the group of humans.

  "Combined with the heavy water, Fu-ts'ang will freeze almost anything it comes into contact with... including either dragons or humans. If you can cover enough dragons, it would be possible to freeze many at once. You, my dear, may be the difference between success and failure," he continued, moving his gaze across to Janice.

  "Cool," whispered Emma under her breath.

  "'Rockin'," stated Hook, gazing lovingly at the trigger of the heavy water rifle.

  "And now, I really must defrost our friend, before her anger gets the better of her." With a simple wave of his hand and a few muttered words, a jet of fire surrounded Richie, enveloping her in a cloud of steam that released her from her stasis.

  "That was fun," she remarked with heavy sarcasm.

  "Ahh, but now you see how we even up the odds a little."

  Nodding her head, she could see how the old dragon was right. Before, as a group, they hadn't stood a chance. But now there was at least an outside possibility that they might be able to take on the aggressors in whatever action was being played out. She was starting to have a good feeling about it all, apart from the fact that she had nothing to fight with. Feeling naked, defenceless and incomplete, she needn't have worried though. Giving the inert backpack a little tug, almost as if reading her thoughts, the old dragon made it known that there were other things left inside.

  "Did you think I'd forgotten about you?"

  Richie should have known better. So she showered him with her best smile, the one that any film star on the planet would have been proud of, the same one that had melted hearts both above and below ground. Radiating a smile back at her as he reached into the rustic looking canvas bag, adorned with leather straps and buckles, something wrapped in an old cloth came out in the shopkeeper's hands. Suddenly Richie wasn't feel
ing so happy. It looked distinctly like she'd wound up with the booby prize.

  "Why don't you wait and see what it is before you pull that face?" scoffed Gee Tee, trying not to laugh. "You of all beings should know not to judge a book by its cover."

  Knowing he was right, briefly she wondered what on earth could be better than Fu-ts'ang? Reaching out to take the mysterious object from the old shopkeeper's hand, sheer raw power overtook her. It was akin to someone removing the kryptonite from Superman, Bruce Wayne donning his Batman outfit, and Green Lantern slipping on his ring, suddenly having all that power back. It was overwhelming, seductive, magical. Gripping the object and soaking up its power at the same time, Richie unwound the ropey old cloth and couldn't believe her eyes at what lay inside.

  "Ahh... Peter's dagger."

  "You know?"

  "He's shown it to me."

  "I was safeguarding it for him. And while I promised him with my life that I would keep it locked away, I think he of all beings would want you to have it here and now. In fact, I'm sure of it."

  Slowly, Richie curled her fingers around the gold coloured, solid laminium, jewelled hilt. It felt intoxicating. Raw, unashamed power coursed through her as she sliced the dagger through the air in front of her. It felt as if there were no resistance at all, almost as if it were carving the atoms of the air itself apart.

  "How do you feel?" asked the dragon, seriously.

  "Strong, powerful... invincible," responded the young lacrosse captain, a keen glint in her eye, all the time wielding the dagger through the air in front of her.

  "It should compensate for part of what you've lost. Remember though, don't let any other dragon get hold of it. If you do... well, I think you know the consequences."

  She did. To let another dragon, one of the enemy, take that weapon would mean DEATH, and almost certainly not just for her. While enhancing her beyond belief and restoring almost all her dragon powers, albeit whilst still stuck in human form, the dagger was a huge responsibility. She would guard it with her life and intended to steal life from those that got in her way.

  "I think it's time we made a move," exclaimed Gee Tee. "First of all we're going to make our way to the southernmost point of the bazaar because I believe that to be where we will all get the best view of exactly what's going on. After that, we'll have to improvise. I trust you, little one, to form a plan with the weapons we have at our disposal."

  Nodding her agreement, Richie knew there was something she had to do before they left. Closing her eyes, she focused hard on two things. One... the dagger, and by that I mean drawing power, energy, magic, whatever you will from it. Secondly... her injured knee. With the dagger's power throbbing and humming, eager to be of use, she guided it down through her body, letting it loose around her injury. Instantly coalescing, she could almost feel it knitting and weaving the tendon on the inside of her knee back together. For a moment it felt glorious, intense and refreshing. And then it was done, her knee healed, as strong and perfect as it had been before. All this had been done in a fraction of a second. Having recalled how to do it, she marvelled at just how easy it had been.

  "Good," said the shopkeeper, bringing Richie back from inside herself. "One last thing. When things kick off, it will be frantic. At that point, I'll do everything in my power to help. I've prepared a little surprise in the form of a mantra that I hope will slow them all down, almost as if they were wading through treacle. That should help to buy us some time. The only problem is, I don't know how long I'll be able to cast it for. I'm not as young as I once was, but I'll do my best."

  Again Richie nodded, knowing better than to question the old dragon. Meanwhile, the others just looked at each other, not knowing what on earth was going on, or even what a mantra was. They were placing their trust, and their lives, in Richie's hands.

  Strapping on the backpack and spreading his wings open, Gee Tee said,

  "Lead the way, little one," to Richie. Instead of being offended, she smiled, and with a renewed vigour slipped off into the alleyway opposite, heading for the bazaar... to save her friends.

  Flash, his thick, longer than normal, blonde hair matted to his skull, took the unerring pain, boxed it up and slid it into a compartmentalised part of his brain, just as he'd been taught to do in the Crimson Guards. Of course, he yelled, screamed and writhed about, but really it was just for show. He could take this and a little more, even stuck in this inconvenient form, he thought, dangling precariously from the hastily put together frame, Tank swinging next to him. Glancing briefly at his friend through his very swollen eyes, anger and pity fought amongst themselves at what was happening. A huge amount of flesh had been flayed off his friend's body, and his face looked as though it had lost a fight with an oncoming train. But still, Flash sensed there was more to the tough looking rugby player. A well of untapped strength, an instinct for survival sat beneath the surface, he was sure. All he had to do now was figure a way out of this mess. Off to his left the other Salisbridge dragons, having been rounded up, most of them taken by surprise, took up about a quarter of the square, all bound by restraints and all surrounded by deadly looking guards, just waiting for an excuse to kill. In fact, they already had. Dragons had already tried to rush the guards and escape. They'd been killed instantly by the magically enhanced bastard swords that all the guards carried. The rest were... shocked. Shocked at the brutality, shocked at the surprise of it all. Seven hours ago they were all going about their daily business: feeding livestock, washing, cleaning, working. But in almost an instant that had changed, and now they found themselves fearing for their very lives, for their very existence, and for the entire dragon domain, if what they'd seen was true.

  SMASH! Another flick from the evil looking, magical whip struck him across the belly, its brilliant crackling line of multi-coloured energy snapping, hissing and whining, almost splitting the air in two before burning the flesh of his taut six pack of a stomach in a straight line. Screaming in pain, he let himself react as any normal being would. At the moment the only advantage he had over his assailants was the fact that they seemingly had no idea of his past, no idea what he was capable of. Only strung up here because of his friendship with Peter and Tank, something he was immensely proud of and grateful for, it was also, he realised, something he'd die to protect and something he was determined to prolong. He needed a plan, and he needed one quickly.

  It didn't take long to reach the periphery of the crowded square. Currently they were concealed behind the wreckage of what had been the bazaar stalls. Nearly all had been overturned, broken or simply destroyed, their wares littering the cobbled square, not just where they were, but as far as the eye could see. Gee Tee had cast a protective mantra over all of them on the way, one that would help conceal their very essence from the enemy, until they were spotted that is. Once that happened, the mantra would fail and their presence would become clear.

  Slithering forward on her stomach, Richie peeped out through the debris strewn around her, just in time to see Flash catch another strike from the whip. Each and every one of them heard the sound of it searing flesh from his broken body, followed by his desperate howl. Anger flared from Richie's very core. Murderous intent stoked the adrenaline that flowed through her, threatening to engulf her entire being. The soft touch of a dragon wing stroked her back gently, followed by a series of very wise words.

  "Save your anger child. Now is not the time. I know how you feel; it seeps through me that those two are up there. But if we are to stand a chance, we must be prepared. Look around. Unless we're ready, we'll end up like that. Is that what you want?"

  From her prone position, Richie looked around, nostrils flaring. Staring into those big, square glasses had a soothing effect, enough to take some of the anger away, at least. With the red mist clearing, at least temporarily, she started to formulate a plan. It didn't take long.

  "Here's what we're going to do," she said. And with that, she set about trusting and tasking each and every one of the humans wit
h saving dragon civilisation as she knew it.

  Once everyone had been briefed, they all set their watches to count down and moved stealthily into their assigned positions. Now there was no turning back. It was quite literally do or die!

  For a while now, something else had been eating away inside her. She knew where Tank and Flash were, quite clearly being able to see them subjected to massive amount of pain. But where on earth was Peter? He was, of course, missing as well, but try as she might, from where they were, she could see no sign of him. She hadn't mentioned this to the others, but off to one side of where the dragons were being kept prisoner, there were bodies. Dragon bodies. Not able to see well enough to make out any, she didn't think her friend was there, but if not there, then where exactly was he?

  Blood trickled down his stomach, pooled a little, and then continued flowing down his strong, muscular legs. It seemed odd to him that it was red, given that he wasn't unaccustomed to watching his own blood flow. Some of the missions he'd been on... well, let's just say that he'd lost a serious amount of blood along the way, though nearly all of it had been green, because nearly all of it had been in his natural form, if such a thing even existed for him now. Wondering, if he survived, whether these wounds would heal or become a permanent feature like the scar that sat just below his left eye, again he pushed away the pain. As he did so, he caught the briefest glimpse of movement through what were now slits in his vision. As soon as he'd glimpsed it, it had vanished. His high vantage point afforded him a fantastic view of the surrounding houses, shops and streets. Certain he hadn't been mistaken about what he'd just seen, what did it mean? A rogue dragon, one his captors had missed when rounding up all the others? Or was it more than that? A rescue mission, a full on attack? He knew not. But what he did know was that he needed to be ready. Pretty sure he could break out of the restraints holding him to the frame of the metal monstrosity, he hadn't done so before because he was seriously outnumbered and, by the look of things, he'd be killed before he hit the ground. Now though, just maybe something was in the offing. Maybe he had a chance, a chance to at least save his friend, even if it meant sacrificing his own life. Once again, he was back in the game.