Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  'If only the restaurant's surveillance had extended further than the pavement outside,' one of the officers thought to herself. According to all the staff they'd interviewed, the group of armed men and women had headed out of the restaurant, the CCTV had confirmed this to be true, and then the woman who'd had the fit had somehow, if their accounts were to be believed, shimmied up the pole on which the council run CCTV cameras were situated, and disabled the camera before shimmying back down and joining her comrades. Moments later the whole group disappeared from sight, and not a word had been heard from any of them since. It was a total and utter mystery, something no police force likes, and one the two women and their colleagues were determined to resolve.

  An hour after reinforcements were called for, four detectives, one of them being Tina, the Salisbridge lacrosse player and teammate of some of the missing persons, and several support officers arrived at the scene right in the middle of the city, causing heads to turn and whispers to run rife, something that wasn't really unexpected given that it was market day and the city streets were full of people shopping and going about their business. As the new arrivals settled in, the two officers started to explain to them all what they'd just uncovered.

  9 Shattered Illusions

  The bombardment was intense. Rippling in places, the translucent magical shield looked as though it would fold in on itself, the constant noise unsettling. It made the dragon troops and the surviving councillors nervous. The king, however, seemed lost in thought, no doubt considering the beings just the other side of the bottomless chasm that separated the two forces.

  Amelia Battlehard had done all that she could and now found herself looking out through the constantly changing, blue tinged, transparent shield. With little concern for her own wellbeing, she worried over the safety of her troops and more importantly... the king! To say things looked bleak was an understatement. Just from what little they knew, the force they were facing was monstrous in size. It didn't help that they had no way of communicating with the outside world. Whatever had been done to ensure that, it had been well planned out in advance, before being carried out to perfection. She wondered how they'd done it, and if somehow she could have stopped it. Thoughts of help turning up whistled through her mind, but for the life of her, she couldn't see where it would come from. They'd had their knees cut out from under them, flailing around, outnumbered and outgunned with nowhere even left to run. Would she run if she could? It certainly wasn't very dragon-like. But if it kept the king alive and allowed him to live to fight another day, then she supposed she would.

  "Penny for your thoughts, Captain?" whispered the king, having sneaked up behind her.

  "It's difficult to know where to start, Your... George."

  The slightest smile meandered across the king's face at the use of his name.

  "I know things look pretty hopeless now, but don't give up hope. There's always a chance, and I don't know about you, but I always believe in being ready for when that one opportunity presents itself. It will come along, of that I have little doubt, Captain. Focus your mind on that. All is not lost."

  Amelia Battlehard forced a smile onto her face, acknowledging the king's words with a slight nod of her giant prehistoric head. For a few seconds they both stood and stared out at the continuous magical onslaught that was meant for them.

  It was the king that broke the silence.

  "I suppose it's time. I had hoped to avoid it if at all possible, but we are way past that now."

  The captain, a quizzical look on her face, opened her mouth to speak. The king got there first.

  "Releasing the magical creatures from the capture and detainment facility in the basement of the council building would seem to be a prudent precaution given our current circumstances, don't you think?"

  "Aaahhh," nodded the captain, having wondered when the time would come, and just what effect releasing the beasts might have on their opposing force.

  Suddenly looking more weary and tired than any had ever seen him, the king slowly closed his eyes and, in his mind, reached out to the presence inside the ring on his finger. Presence was really the only way to describe what he'd come to think of as a constant companion, occasional friend, powerful ally, and irregular confounder. Bright searing blue, green and yellow lights blared inside his mind as he wriggled around uncomfortably, looking for the tiny magical power source that he knew was continually keeping all the dangerous creatures in check. Like scouring a dream, or being captivated by a long lost memory, his mind pressed on, until he eventually found what he was looking for. As he approached what appeared to be a red metal wheel, sitting above a row of green and blue lights, on an out-of-this-world console, he could hear the ring's worried whispers echoing around his mind.

  "Are you sure this is the right thing to do?" it asked. "Some of those creatures are valuable in so many other ways. Their properties, knowledge and abilities make them a threat in their own right. If the enemy were to capture them, they would have access to some most unusual and powerful magic. What about the safety of the creatures themselves? Surely they don't deserve to meet their end in a fight that isn't theirs?"

  These were all questions that the king had asked himself over the last few hours. It was a risk, that was for sure. However it played out in his mind though, he could see no course of action other than to release the deadly predators, and hope that they would make their way out of the building to relative safety, and that they could be rounded up and brought under control after this crisis had been averted, if indeed such a thing were even possible. On top of all of that, they just might inconvenience their enemy and provide enough of a distraction for... for what? An escape? Unlikely! For the chance of a counter attack? In that lay madness. But who knew? Perhaps fighting madness with madness was all that was left. So with the ringing thoughts echoing throughout his head, the king, muscles straining, despite the fact that this was all playing out in his mind, turned the red wheel anti-clockwise until all the lights on the console turned red. It was done. Now all they had to do was wait and see if it made any difference.

  Half a dozen nagas disguised as humans had been assigned by Manson to break into the basement of the council building and ascertain the situation of the beasts in the capture and detain level. He'd stressed it was an important task, leaving unsaid that he was looking for some very old and very powerful magic. Nearly ten hours they'd been at it, and still they'd barely scratched the door, let alone looked like getting in. Bathed in the green light from the lamp above the entrance, it almost seemed to be mocking their efforts. Of course none wanted to report back to the psychopathic Manson that they'd failed to get in, so they continued, throwing magic, might, mana and metal at the seemingly indestructible door beneath the faintly pulsing green light.

  Powered by the king's ring, the mantras used in the basement of the council building to contain the highly magical and, in general, deadly creatures that resided there, are among the most complex and powerful on the planet. Not only designed to keep said creatures separate from each other, they also replicate, down to the finest detail, the exact environment of each and every specimen in their care, as well as looking after each individual's needs on a minute by minute basis. Those beings contained want for nothing, and never go hungry, go without company or fear for their lives. This is how the dragons rationalise their incarceration of the beasts. Massive amounts of power are required to maintain the mantras, with the king's ring really the only viable option as a source, given the huge consumption.

  Eerie green light surrounded each huge pen, showing that the mantras were working, and that the beasts within were contained. Row upon row of pens faded off into the distance for as far as the eye could see. Also, it was cold, like the frozen aisle of a supermarket... another precaution in case the worst should ever happen, and the creatures were somehow set free. Most would be slowed by the cold, but not all. With no one there to see, and without a sound, the green lights of the pens suddenly switched off, throwing row a
fter row into darkness. Brutally the silence was shattered by piercing shrieks, ungodly wails, the clattering of hooves all accompanied by the underlying sound of scuttling, hissing and buzzing. If nightmares were ever to come to life, this is how they'd do it.

  Standing back from the shield, the king examined all the troops around him. Some were sharpening their talons on the side of massive chunks of rock, others exercised, while a few sat on the ground, meditating, their thoughts somewhere far, far away. He envied them. Since having witnessed TROYDENN'S image on the computer monitor, it was all that he could think about, the hell that his ex-friend had gone through, and the twisted, dark thoughts that clearly now consumed him. For him to be here now, heading the dangerous, deadly, despicable army, clearly intent on taking the planet, the suffering he would have endured must have been unimaginable. All he knew now was that whatever happened, things didn't bode well for his survival.

  A tiny tickle surprised him enough to jolt him away from the morose thoughts. It was the ring, indicating that his will had been done, and all its power had been diverted away from the basement of the council building, and transferred to the shimmering blue shield he stood in front of. He was grateful for that, hoping that the extra power might buy enough time for a solution to present itself, but wondered exactly what was going on in the bottom of the adjacent building.

  It started as a swarm. Nifoloa to be precise, their buzzing sounding like a million miniscule drums all beating at once. Angry drums at that. With what they'd perceived as reality abruptly torn away from them, and the outer layer of protection stripped from around their pen, with the absence of the mantra, they started in unison, all hacking away at the walls with the single sharp tooth that they each had, the one that was the size of a man's finger. In only a matter of moments, they'd shredded their way through one of the walls and were flying in and out of the passages between all the other pens, looking for a target into which to inject their deadly poison. That was just the start.

  In a far off darkened corner, amongst the howls, mewling, baying and whistling, a decidedly angry pack of skrikers gnawed a small hole just above ground level, and were currently fighting each other over just who should go through first. Paws, fur and teeth flew. Savage, bloody wounds abounded. Thick dark blood pooled on the floor.

  Usually more at home in a waterborne environment, dozens of camaheutos skittered along the outside walls of the pens, having already gouged out dozens of tiny little gullies beneath their prison's walls with their razor sharp clawed feet. Natives of Chile, they had no trouble in thinking of a human as their prey. They might well even consider taking down a dragon, should the opportunity present itself. Confident didn't really do them justice. However, they were unaware of what other dangers lurked in the bowels of this building.

  Exhausted from their efforts, the half dozen nagas that had been tasked to break into the basement all sat either on or against massive unopened crates, just opposite the unbreakable door. Their mood was dour, thoughts of retribution for their failure from the psychopath Manson ran through all their minds. Without warning, the constant green light that had been their companion and their enemy throughout their tireless efforts flickered off into nothing, accompanied by the tiniest sound of well oiled metal moving. Immediately they were all on their feet, astounded at what had just happened. Knowing looks and what passed for smiles on the false human bodies they wore were all evident as the group as one approached the seemingly unpowered door. 'Manson will be pleased,' was the gist of what was running through each of their minds. The leader, by virtue of some kind of seniority, grasped the metre long metal handle and yanked it brutally downwards, not really sure what to expect. Both magical and physical seals were broken. Fetid, damp air could be faintly heard escaping. As their leader pulled the door open, the others looked on, pleased at having completed their assigned tasks.

  The wicked chill that had up until now covered the entire underground level started to dissipate. Nearly all the creatures were benefiting from this. Their metabolisms kicked into life, as did their survival instincts.

  Blissfully unaware of what was going on, the nagas in their human forms headed confidently into the dark. It hadn't occurred to them that the door unlocking all by itself could be a bad thing. Why indeed would they think that the creatures inside were anything but contained? And the noises? Having never entered the council building, let alone that particular level, they all just assumed that the noises were what passed for normal here. Boy, were they in for a surprise.

  In a darkened corridor, over a quarter of a mile away from the nagas, five camaheutos were meeting another species for the very first time, and were determined to express their dominance. Having surrounded the group of six inch long serpents, both in the corridor and up on the walls, the camaheutos almost sparkled with confidence at the thought of their first real meal being only moments away, despite it being only a mere mouthful. Breaking ranks, a lightly coloured, audacious camaheuto decided not to wait for its brethren and bounded forward with intent and purpose, determined to skewer its meal with the razor sharp claws on its feet. Just as it reached striking range, two of the tiny little serpents opened their mouths in unison, and exhaled. The daring and rather reckless camaheuto was instantly frozen to the spot in mid strike, one leg raised, poised to attack, the other firmly planted on the ground. With their bulging confidence shattered, the other camaheutos gradually retreated, watching as the group of serpents slithered their way slowly up, onto their frozen friend and began to gnaw into his still very alive flesh. A species so at the top of its food chain, had never been put in its place quite like the camaheutos had today, by a tiny group of echeneis. This was only the start of the battle for supremacy.

  Still blissfully unaware of the situation around them, the nagas strolled purposefully deeper and deeper into obscurity, pleased at having gained not only access to the top secret basement, but approval from the ever moody Manson. Thoughts of how happy he'd be with them when they told him about the magical marvels contained here spurred them to press further into the basement, despite what most would have described as very disturbing noises, and now smells.

  The skrikers eventually escaped from their pen. Not one looked unharmed, with most missing fur, teeth, and in some cases... LIMBS! They prowled through the darkness, using their enhanced senses for all they were worth. Their world had vanished in an instant, replaced by this cold, noisy labyrinth. Despite the rivalry amongst them, they were a pack in the conventional sense, and couldn't wait to encounter whatever was out there.

  In the depths of the gloom now, a skittering had the entire group turning as one. Nothing was there. But the faint noises, ones that they had all assumed were the norm in this state of the art containment facility, were now growing louder and more concerning, coming from every direction. They looked to their leader for guidance, but he had very little. One of them piped up that they should return to their natural state, something that they could all agree on straight away. A head to toe grey shimmering encompassed each member of the entire group. In less than five seconds, their bogus human shaped bodies had been replaced by their much darker natural forms. Satisfaction at having changed was greeted by a, "HISSSSSSSSSSSSS," from nearly all of them. Confident that they could neutralise any threat that presented itself, they slithered further into the basement, all of their abilities enhanced by their snakelike forms, thoughts of glory, praise and ultimately freeing their king haunting their imagination. Little did the nagas know that they had now become the hunted.

  A dozen twisted corners away from the slippery nagas, a cautious group of gaki crouched nervously in the all-encompassing black. Monstrous legends from the Far East, their bodies were humanish, with bulging great bellies that constantly, much to their annoyance, rumbled and spluttered. That wasn't what made them so fierce though. Their bodies were either bright, blood red, or brilliantly neon green, showing themselves up even though there was absolutely no light to see in. As if this weren't bad enough, they ea
ch had the heads of horses or cattle. All had three eyes. Sharp talons, horns and bony protrusions littered their bodies, each on its own a deadly weapon, but together acting like a whirlwind of razor blades. Rumoured to feed off the souls of evil men and women, they were all still taken aback at the world they'd known being snatched away from them. Some were angry, others frightened, one or two intrigued. But what they all were was ready, ready for whatever came their way. Bizarre, frightening, otherworldly could all have been used to describe this tiny fighting force, amongst any number of other fighting forces, most blissfully unaware of the others. Just how much longer could that last?

  As his leader glided off into the distance, one of the nagas stopped to inspect a section of wall beneath what looked like a faulty light, wrapped in caged metal. There appeared to be some kind of writing, but it was obscured by a thick layer of ice that now seemed to be melting at quite a rate. At home in the cold, the naga had no problem scraping away the frost to reveal what lay beneath. On doing so, he exhaled sharply, the peculiar sounds all around instantly becoming clearer and much more defined. Ironically he was frozen to the spot, momentarily anyway. But his instinct for survival was ingrained in his very DNA, allowing him to fight against the fear that held him temporarily paralysed. But what to do? The others were too far away to call out to. Well, they weren't, but only if you wanted to attract the attention of everything else in here. And from what he'd just learnt, that could well be much more than they could handle. But he certainly didn't want to go any further into what he now thought of as more of a prison/zoo, particularly as it was most likely that all of the inmates were now roaming free, probably tired, scared, hungry or a combination of all three. All he was sure of was that their little group was in a whole world of trouble.