Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  Drawing back his arm, he marvelled at just how delicious the handle of the whip felt in his hand. Ohhh, how he was enjoying this. Memories of the cocky dragon standing between him and that fool Bentwhistle during their time at the nursery ring bubbled to the surface of his consciousness. A quiet peace flooded through him, as he pushed the memories aside. One word sprang to the forefront of his mind as he brought his arm forward. "PAYBACK!"

  In the biggest gamble of his, and more importantly, Richie's life, Flash replicated the song, and increased the pitch as much as he could. The result was instantaneous. Having almost reached the point of no return in its path, where it would have been level with Casey and where any change in its direction would have been too late, Fu-ts'ang shivered slightly, before whipping around almost ninety degrees to its right, burying itself deep within Casey's left ribcage. As the chill from Fu-ts'ang passed instantly from muscle to muscle within him, the surprise on the dragon's face was palpable. As the blood around the wound congealed and then froze, the deadly whip clattered to the stony ground. He tried to move, tried to fight. But it was no good. Fu-ts'ang had him in his grip. Nothing could save him now.

  Flash opened his eyes to see the hilt of his... his what? Friend? That sounded stupid, even to him, but that's how the bond between them felt. Imagine him... friends with a weapon. Strangely, when he said it like that, it seemed like a perfect match. With the hilt of his friend poking out of Casey's ribcage at an odd angle, the dragon torturer was entirely frozen, by the look of things. Wasting no time, Flash sprinted off, keen to be reunited with both of his friends, one lying on the ground, the other embedded in a dragon.

  Wiping away two steady streams of tears, Janice could barely believe what she'd just seen. Sure that her weapon was going to miss, she was gobsmacked when, at the very last moment, it almost turned a corner to find its mark in the evil dragon. Heart pounding, she took off after Flash, eager to make sure Richie was okay.

  Hook punched the air with his fist.

  "Yes!" he screamed to no one in particular. Flash's throw was the single most amazing thing he'd ever seen, and that included all the events of the last few hours. He just had to know how it was done. He also had to know how Richie was, and so with that, he trotted off after Flash and Janice, the heavy water pack bumping his back ever so slightly as he moved.

  Emma, Taibul, Angela and Sam stood, mouths hanging open, in the shadowed entrance to the alleyway which they'd been taking cover in. They could all barely believe what had happened. It had looked like Richie was a goner. Flash's throw had seemed impossible. All breaking into smiles simultaneously, they rushed to join the others, keen to know the extent of the lacrosse player's injuries.

  All around the bazaar, the battle was coming to an end. Prisoners who'd been freed, residents of the underground ancient city, were putting an end to the remaining guards who'd turned their world so unexpectedly upside down. No mercy was shown, with the residents doubling, sometimes even trebling up on the, by now, terrified guards. Some begged for mercy, some put up a fight. Either way, it made no difference. They all died, some quicker than others, but all in the most brutal fashion.

  47 Oh, For Some Rubber Gloves

  Groggy but not too badly harmed, Richie pushed herself up on to her feet. Wobbling a little unsteadily as she did so, she tried to grasp exactly what had happened. Flash was the first to skid to a halt in front of her, a look of concern etched across his face.

  "You okay?" he asked.

  "Uhhh... yeah, I, uhhh, think so," she replied.

  "That was about as close as it ever gets. Don't do that to me again... EVER!" Flash declared.

  Throwing him her best grin, the one reserved for winning people over and giving her an edge, Richie stated,

  "Can't promise that I'm afraid. How about promising not to make a habit of it?"

  "Deal," he replied, leaning forward and embracing the lacrosse captain softly.

  Janice arrived next, having stopped to pick up the laminium dagger that Richie had dropped as she'd fallen. Approaching Richie, Flash and the unmoving dragon, the young blonde rolled the dagger over in her hands. It certainly looked pretty, all the jewels shining brightly in the light, and it felt... solid, well made. But she figured there was more to it than that, and was sure that Richie should have it back at the earliest opportunity. Offering it out in front of her, to her bedraggled 'friend', she didn't know what kind of response to expect, but was almost knocked out when the young lacrosse player leaned in, kissed her on both cheeks and thanked her profusely. The biggest grin in the entire dragon domain spread rapidly across her beautiful face.

  And with that, the others arrived: Hook, followed by Taibul, Emma, Angela and Sam, as well as some of the other dragons who'd been freed by Janice's heroics. Hook gave Richie a congratulatory pat on the back, which caused her to turn and give him the 'look'. Laughing, he told her that he'd seen her in a worse state on a lacrosse pitch. Smiling, she agreed. And then abruptly the tone turned more serious. One of the freed dragons plodded forward. The others stepped out of the way to let him through.

  "Are you the one responsible for all this?" he boomed in a very deep voice.

  "Well..." started Richie. It was only then that she remembered the old shopkeeper. Turning in the direction of where she'd last seen him, there amongst the wreckage of the market, his body was just visible on the ground. Others around her followed her gaze, most of them letting out little gasps. About to take off in that direction, Flash put his hand out in front of her.

  "I'll go," he announced, and taking Janice and the others with him, sprinted off in the direction of the master mantra maker.

  Turning around to face the dragon that had spoken to her, she pushed all thoughts of the mighty Gee Tee out of her mind.

  "So, are you the one?" enquired the dragon once again.

  Other freed dragons had congregated around them both, all wanting an answer to the question. Feeling as though she were under a giant microscope, that's how much scrutiny she was under, in true Richie style, she puffed out her chest and very brashly stated,

  "I am."

  Along with all the others, the big dragon in front of her gave her answer careful consideration as the moments ticked by.

  As Flash knelt down by the old dragon's head, the skin on his own back, or distinct lack of it to be precise, sent waves of agony rippling throughout his beaten body. Gently, and with more than a little trepidation, he opened first the master mantra maker's left eye, and then his right.

  'They look fine,' he thought on examination. But Gee Tee continued to remain unconscious. Throughout, the human friends circled the huge dragon form, eager to help in any way they could. By no means a novice in this area, Flash's Crimson Guard training had included developing a full medical skill set, both for humans and dragons alike. But try as he might, he just couldn't find anything wrong. The old dragon was breathing, he could hear it, and the natural dragon smell of methane on his breath was almost overpowering, and that was to a dragon, albeit one stuck in human guise. His heart was beating, his circulation was fine and nothing was obstructing or blocking his airways. All things being equal, he should be standing up in front of them. Flash didn't know what to do. And then it hit him, much later than it really should have. TANK!

  'Oh God,' he thought, turning around to see his friend still hanging up, over two hundred yards away. 'Why on earth haven't I got him down already?' Ordering the others to stay with Gee Tee, Flash, assisted by dragon power, sprinted off in Tank's direction.

  Sweat dribbled down her back as she stared intently at the big dragon in front of her, mind filled with questions. What if they didn't know who she was? What if they were more concerned with how many dragon laws she'd broken, than with the fact that she'd rescued them? What if their battle rage still clouded their minds? Could she talk her way out of this? So many questions, and nothing in the way of an answer forthcoming from the dragons around her.

  Reaching the metal monstrosity, Flash bounded st
raight up the side of it in two mantra enhanced leaps. Once at the top, he realised he should have brought Richie's dagger with him to cut the rope from which Tank swung. Silently, he cursed to himself... 'schoolboy error'. With no other option, he did something that he'd only ever done a handful of times in this particular form. Searching deep down in the core of his body, he found the tiny little spark that he was looking for. Just for a moment, he'd been afraid that he wouldn't find it, that it didn't exist, that it was somehow missing from this shell that he found himself inhabiting. But he recognised it and on doing so, pulled it upwards through his stomach and up into his throat. Feeling the familiar acidic tang precede what he needed, he leaned forward so that his head was almost touching the rope that held the binders to the structure, and then opened his mouth as wide as it would go. A small flame, blue and orange in colour, burst forth from between his lips, pretty much like you'd get from a Bunsen burner. Immediately, Tank started to fall. Flash leapt, somersaulting backwards, tucking his legs into his body, all the time ignoring the devastating pain that assaulted him. Before he hit the floor, he dived forward, catching in his outstretched arms the bulk of Tank's broken frame. Surprised at how much the strapping rugby player weighed, he supposed he shouldn't have been. Having caught him, he gently laid him on the cobbles, and started running through all the checks he'd done only a short time before with Gee Tee. After a while, it became clear things weren't looking good.

  The rather fierce expression on the dragon that had asked Richie the question suddenly melted away as he offered out his hand to the talented lacrosse star.

  "We all owe you our thanks, little one. And yes, we know exactly who you are. Thank you."

  Richie let out her breath, not really aware that she'd been holding it in. It felt as though a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders, despite her battered and bruised body.

  "You're all very welcome," she mumbled, not really knowing what to say.

  "Just one thing though," whispered the dragon. "Are you out of your tiny little mind? Bringing humans here?" Shaking his giant skull, the huge dragon roared with laughter. "Inspired, truly inspired."

  Joining the dragon laughing, it was only then she wondered what she must have been thinking? Humans... saving dragons. Mad, absolutely mad. Quickly, the moment passed and, for her, it was back to the business at hand.

  "What now?" she enquired, eyeing the motionless Casey suspiciously. She hadn't forgotten he was there, quite the opposite in fact. She was looking forward to someone extracting some information from him.

  Kneeling down beside Tank, Flash looked over his shoulder to see if he could summon a little help. Richie, he could see, was deep in discussion with the group of local dragons, while the humans (he smirked at that, still not able to believe that they were here and more importantly, had saved everybody) remained gathered around the old shopkeeper, doing their best to rouse him. Help looked as though it wouldn't be forthcoming anytime soon. Deciding to fall back on his training, he'd already tried everything obvious, perhaps it was time for the unconventional.

  Something that had always stuck with him was an afternoon spent alone with one of his dragon trainers, many decades ago. The trainer in question was thought to have been a little... long in the tooth both in age, and quite literally. His name was Smoking Bandit, and derived from his time raiding human settlements across Nepal, throughout the early seventeen hundreds. Once caught by the council, who at the time had no idea what to do with him, the death penalty had been one distinct possibility, but on closer cross examination they discovered that Smoking Bandit had an almost unrivalled knowledge of human weaponry and guerrilla fighting tactics. Arguing for many days, the council's vote eventually led to them giving him a training position, after using a mantra to bind him to the dragon domain, thus preventing him from ever seeing the surface of the planet again. And so it was that Flash found himself under the tutelage of the elderly dragon, who, on getting to know him just a little, was much more than he appeared. As well as being a human weaponry and battle tactics expert, Smoking Bandit had on occasion, mixed with the other dragon colonies on the surface. At that time, there weren't many, well, not in their natural form anyway. But tucked away, particularly in the more remote parts of Nepal, small enclaves of their race thrived in secretive communities. One of those communities had welcomed Smoking with open wings, letting him stay for a while, trying to encourage him to join on a more permanent basis. It wasn't really his thing though, but he had for a while enjoyed the company of members of his own race. And in doing so, he'd gained much in the way of knowledge, in particular, obscure mantras, a wealth of medicinal knowledge, and some rather bizarre and unlikely seeming cures for all sorts of dragon ailments. That afternoon, Smoking Bandit decided that Flash was worthy, well, those were his words, of being the custodian of all the information that he'd been entrusted with. Amongst everything that he'd gleaned that day, there was one mantra in particular called 'fanning the flames', that he always thought about. It was always kicking around inside his head at the end of every battle, especially if there were casualties of any sort. He'd never had to use it before, but since nothing else had seemed to work, he figured he had nothing to lose.

  In front of them, the old dragon with the glasses who'd given them the weapons lay still on the cobbles. Flash had already determined that his breathing was okay, but every few minutes, one of the humans leaned in just to check this was still the case. They were taking it in turns, and it had come to be Janice's. Kneeling down next to his giant head, she rested one hand on the scales that ran down from his cheek, and moved her head slowly forward, turning it to one side as she did so. She could hear the air escaping his jaws, and there was no mistaking the fetid odour of methane. Rising back to her feet, she nodded to the others.

  "He's still breathing," she uttered. They all nodded back, still not knowing what to do, desperate to help the old dragon; after all, without him, none of this would have been possible. Staring solemnly in silence, apart from Janice, who was keeping a close eye on Flash and Tank on the far side of the huge square, she wondered what was going on. Judging from the look of concern carved into Flash's bruised and beaten mug, he faced a dilemma of his own. In her head, she whispered a silent prayer for both Tank and the dragon sprawled out in front of her.

  In response to the lacrosse playing dragon's question, the freed dragons, all local residents, had gathered into a huddle. Richie stood, looking on, wondering exactly what they were discussing. One of them she knew had to take charge... and soon! The situation called for it. They needed to collate everything they knew from everyone still alive, try to work out exactly what was going on, and formulate a plan. They needed a leader, someone to follow, someone to inspire... someone who could help them... WIN! Knowing they had little time to waste, she hoped their discussion would end soon. As always, she found waiting the hardest thing to bear. More importantly though, she was fully aware of everything around her. Although she hadn't looked in either direction, she knew that Gee Tee was lying prone off to her right, just as Flash was tending to Tank further off to her left. Desperate to see how her friends were doing, her instinct screamed inside her to wait here for the dragons' decision. Closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, she softly wished to be granted more patience, as every second that passed while she just stood there, seemed to ring out in her head.

  'Come on, come on, how hard can it be?' she thought. 'It can't possibly take this long. You're all dragons, after all.'

  Knowing what he had to do, oddly, the injuries inflicted by the sadistic Casey with his crackling energy whip made things easier. Tank lay on his back, his chest exposed for all to see, huge amounts of skin missing due to the welts of the whip. Just looking at the state of his friend made him want to throw up, although he himself had pretty much the same injuries, just not quite as deep, because Casey had taken more pleasure and put more energy into every stroke of the whip when he'd hit Tank. In some ways Flash thought himself lucky. But now he neede
d to ignore his own pain and concentrate on his friend. Bringing his left arm over and above Tank's damaged chest, Flash found a part that was bleeding profusely and pressed it firmly to a bloody section of his friend's torso. At precisely the moment of contact, Flash's head swam with more pain than he could cope with. It took him several seconds to regroup and push the pain to one side. He felt for Tank, fearing for him at the same time. The extent of the agony was truly staggering, very much off the scale. He'd been trained to deal with it, and almost couldn't cope, but his friend... Over the course of his colourful life, he'd heard of beings driven mad in such situations, and could now understand why. Aware of just how strong his friend was, he knew this would be the test of his life. Flash hoped with all his heart that Tank passed with flying colours.

  The dragons' impromptu discussion broke up, all of them striding purposefully back in Richie's direction.

  'About time,' was all she could think, desperate to offer Flash all the help she could, and see how Gee Tee was doing. Walking right up to her, the dragon who'd asked the question would be intimidating for most, not even close for Richie. As they gathered round, Richie's impatience got the better of her.

  "Well?" she declared.

  "We need someone to take charge, galvanise us, bring us together. Someone we can all get behind."

  "And?"

  With a totally passive face that Richie just couldn't read, the huge dragon studied her closely. Normally she'd have staked her life on her ability to tell what another dragon or human was thinking. But for once, she was well and truly stumped. And that was only the first shock.