Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  "We're going nowhere until they come back, is that clear?" growled Richie furiously. "They get left behind over my dead body. Understand?"

  More than a little shaken, a tiny female voice could just be heard to squeak,

  "Okay."

  With the tension raised higher than a wayward balloon filled with helium, Richie focused on controlling her breathing, regulating her temperature and letting the magic from the dagger and the necklace flow through her, all the time keeping one eye on what Peter and Janice were both doing.

  Gliding to a halt next to what was left of the wall, Peter reached down to lift up a slab of marble that had slipped across his grandfather's face. Tossing it carelessly off to one side, he looked back down at the being he longed to get to know better, hoping against hope that his time on earth hadn't yet drawn to an end. Right on cue, Fredric's broken, battered and bruised body started to cough and splutter, all of its own accord.

  "Thank God," uttered Janice, with no small degree of relief.

  "We have to get him back behind the shield," Peter declared. "If we don't, then we're all as good as dead."

  Only then did he turn his attention skyward, feeling something untoward watching him from a great height. He wasn't wrong. They'd caught the attention of two ferociously scary dragons, both far bigger than Tank's huge bulk, both now starting their descent, eyes firmly fixed on their newfound prey. Instantly Peter's legs froze to the spot, while his arms shook uncontrollably. Some hero he was turning out to be. Janice was also rooted to the spot, her attention fixed intently on both prehistoric winged beasts zipping through the air towards them.

  'Do something,' she willed in Peter's direction, hoping against hope that was enough to kick start him into action. It wasn't, and he remained steadily glued to the floor, mouth agog, eyes wide open.

  There appeared no way out, and that death had finally found two of the many heroes here today, as both homicidal dark dragons' downward flight reached the point at which both could use their mighty flames to incinerate the childlike human forms before them. They chose not to. It was a mistake. Flying side by side, they each acquired a target, satisfied that not only would their thirst for violence and murder be quelled, but their hunger as well. Grasping each other's hands, too afraid to attempt anything else, Peter and Janice closed their eyes, already petrified beyond belief. It was a shame, that's for sure, because they missed a move so superbly executed that it should go down in dragon lore, providing that the light side lived long enough to record that history. Out of nowhere, a shimmering, speeding bolt of brilliant, white frost cut through the molecules of the air, parting the very atoms themselves. Fast didn't begin to describe it, with it making most bullets look like snails. Not even aware of the danger they were in, both dark dragons opened their mouths to the fullest extent and savoured the expectation of their next meal. If kebab was what they dreamed of, then kebab it would be. Taking both dragons sideways on at ninety degrees, Fu-ts'ang hammered into them with no thought of his own safety. Like a knife through water, that's how easy it was for the centuries old weapon to pierce the dragon scales of both beings, impaling them both on the blade and compressing their bodies with the force of his approach, nailing both beings to the marble wall, slightly further along from where Fredric lay half-buried in debris. Surprised and more than a little grateful, the two young lovers opened their eyes, astonished to find a dragon kebab, with their friend, the magnificent Fu-ts'ang, the skewer.

  "Oh my God," announced Janice, her voice wobbly, her hands shaking beyond belief.

  "Wow!" was all that Peter could get out, looking at the devastation the ice shrouded weapon had caused. "How in the..." he didn't get to finish, because the realisation of why he was there, and what he had to do, hit him head on.

  Fredric! Ignoring the impaled dragons bleeding profusely and wailing more than a little, the hockey player turned around and started pulling the biggest chunks of rubble off his grandfather, determined to help get him back to his feet. As Fredric's moans and groans became more incomprehensible, Peter paused momentarily and, forgetting all the rubble for just two seconds, placed both his hands on his grandfather's forehead, pumping as much healing magic as he dared into the stricken dragon. It had no effect... nothing! Leaving one hand on his forehead, continuing to heal, with the other he grabbed more of the debris and tossed it away to one side, all too aware of his surroundings and the continued danger they were all in.

  High above, wicked, dark dragons schemed and plotted telepathically as they continuously circled the battlefield, looking for the best way to answer the rallying cry their leader had already let out. Some had their eyes on the dome of magic users on the ground, guarded by a force shield and two dragons from above, while a few others had witnessed the brutal skewering of their colleagues only a short while ago and had vowed revenge on those that had sought to take away their brothers in arms.

  From only a short distance away, Richie Rump, impromptu leader and infamous lacrosse hotshot, continued to power the shield that kept them all safe and host the array of different dragon personalities deep inside her head. At the moment, most of them seemed to be bickering, mainly about Peter and Janice's reckless actions in leaving the confined safety of the barrier. She hadn't said it yet, but there just wasn't time for all this. How could she make them see that? With her focus spread thin... powering the shield, listening to all the voices inside her and keeping an eye on her best friend and his partner in crime, her composure started to crumble, threatening to yield to her fiery temper that was an intrinsic part of her very nature. Worried for her friends, the obvious answer to it all popped right into her head totally out of nowhere.

  "If we're going to move the shield to save the king and his cohorts anyway, can we not just walk it on over to where Peter, Janice and Fredric are now, on the way? Surely that would make sense, buy us a little time, keep them safe and rally a few more beings to our cause?"

  The silence was deafening. Moments passed, with what seemed like brains whirring.

  Finally, the young female dragon who'd instigated the plan in the first place, spoke up.

  "We should be ready to go, and there's no reason not to do that. In fact, it makes perfect sense... everybody ready?"

  Lots of virtual nods and yeps later, Richie could feel a little more weight from the shield being taken from her, the burden spreading out amongst them a little more evenly.

  "Remember," shouted the young female dragon throughout their minds, "head over towards Bentwhistle and the two others first, and then we cut across the battlefield in a direct line towards the king. Be aware of your responsibilities, and if you have a problem, share it immediately. Good luck!"

  And with that, and at walking pace, the whole of the shield started to move what was effectively sideways, very slowly getting closer to the stricken Fredric, Peter, Janice, and Fu'-ts'ang who was still skewering the two near dead dragons to the white, marble wall.

  Janice, oblivious to pretty much everything else, opened herself up to her newly found friend, the weapon that had just saved them from a very gruesome end.

  "Are you okay?" she whispered, wondering exactly what kind of response she'd get.

  It took more than a while for the answer to come.

  "What you did was exceedingly reckless. You could very easily have both been killed. What on earth were you thinking?"

  "I'm pretty sure neither of us were thinking, only acting on instinct. The dragon buried beneath the rubble is Peter's grandfather. He's been imprisoned in Antarctica for decades, and was one of the ones that showed up out of the blue to rescue us."

  "And might I say, what a fine job he's done," fumed the frost shrouded weapon sarcastically.

  "There's no need to be like that. We all need to stick together. Getting uppity at each other will help no one."

  Suitably berated, and more importantly knowing the young woman was right, Fu-ts'ang apologised immediately, informing the bar worker that the dragons he'd impaled on the wall w
ere still alive, and that he was reluctant to pull out and let them free at the moment.

  "What about you?" she replied. "You can't stay like that indefinitely. And besides, we need you in the fight."

  "When the relative safety that's approaching you arrives, I'll let them drop to the floor and rejoin the fight. You didn't think you were getting rid of me that easily did you?"

  "Never!" she answered, only then noticing Richie and the shield creeping ever closer.

  "Go and help your love," ordered the weapon. "If you need me, call out. Once I'm free of these two, I'll try and help cut you and your friends a path towards the dragon king, at least I assume that's where you're headed."

  "I suppose it is. I haven't really been informed."

  "For now little one, all I'll say is that it's been a privilege, an honour and a pleasure. Like I said, if you need me... YELL!"

  And with that, their link went dead.

  Rushing over to her love, immediately she started helping with the rubble that was half burying Fredric. As she knelt down beside Peter, for just a split second their eyes met and through the dirt and dust in the air, despite the danger they were all in, with only a look, their hearts intertwined. There and then they knew that there'd be nobody else for either of them, and that they were meant to be together forever, however long that would be given the seriousness of everything going on around them. Content, at least for now, both turned back and with everything they had, tried to free Peter's last known relative. If only he knew the truth!

  Some of those high up above had witnessed everything, including the weapon that seemed to have a mind of its own, being stuck firmly in both dragons it had skewered, and, by the looks of things, the wall. Instantly a decision was made, and four psychotic dragons peeled away from their holding pattern, heading swiftly for the ground.

  Eyes closed, firmly grasping the dagger, ignoring the heat radiating out from both of the mind bogglingly valuable laminium items, ever so slowly she stepped in the direction of her friends, feeling the shield following all around her, To say it was odd was something of an understatement. It felt as though they were all trapped inside a jelly that was being dragged along with them. It wasn't, it was the shield, and it wasn't moving nearly as fast as she would have hoped. In the middle of all this, her danger sense screamed out at her. Immediately becoming ultra alert, she scanned the area, quickly determining the threat: more of the enemy coming in from above, and she knew that their current pace wouldn't get them to Peter, Janice and Fredric in time.

  "Stop!" she shouted within her head for all to hear. They did.

  "What's going on?" asked the female in charge.

  "We need to all squeeze up as much as possible and extend the shield out in the direction of our friends... NOW! They've got company coming in from up above and won't stand a chance if we don't act."

  "Knowing just how futile arguing with Richie would be, and encouraged to do so by a little nudge from Yoyo, the youngsters within the shield, Yoyo and Hook, all bunched up towards Richie, leaving a huge area of barrier behind them deserted.

  Within her mind, the lacrosse playing superstar opened herself up, not only to the massive amounts of magic flowing through her, but to Yoyo's young band of rebels, hoping to hell that once again they knew what they were doing. Peter's life quite literally depended on it.

  At the same time as the shield around the area with nobody in it began to constrict, the shimmering, transparent barrier in front of Richie began to stretch out in the direction of her friends. Looking up as far as she dared, Richie couldn't tell what was going to reach her friends first... their defensive barrier, or brutal death by murderous dragon. It was going to be close.

  Ridding Fredric's body of as much rubble as they dared, and only too aware of what was going on, instinctively both Janice and Peter grabbed one of his arms, and without any kind of formality or warning started dragging his broken body towards the safety of the approaching shield, all the time keeping their eyes on the ground, not wanting to see what was hurtling towards them from the air.

  Able to see what the despicable shapes on the ground were retreating towards, all four dark dragons poured on as much speed as they could muster, determined not to let their prey, and lunch, escape the grisly fate they had in store for it.

  Hauling for all they were worth, ignoring the thick trail of brilliant red blood Fredric's legs left on the stone covered ground, and his babbling wails and cries of pain, Peter and Janice gave everything they had to reach the safety of the magical barrier the others sheltered behind.

  Shuffling forwards, feeling the hot breath of those behind her tickling the back of her neck, Richie Rump assessed the dynamic of the situation with all her limited experience and immediately came to only one conclusion. They weren't going to make it. Not by far, but they simply weren't moving quick enough. Continuing forwards as fast as she dared, her focus shifted. Contracting the shield behind them, so that it closed in around Yoyo's group of dragons, instantly lessened the power she needed to draw from the laminium, momentarily anyway. Knowing it was but a fleeting pause in proceedings, the lacrosse playing dragon exhaled deeply in a sigh of relief, before once again closing her eyes.

  Four wide-eyed predators moving at a mind numbing blur were but a split second away from annihilating their prey, the vicious snarls of delight and victory matched only by their stomachs rumbling in anticipation of something tasty to eat for the first time in a while. Savouring their triumph, each of them opened their jaws as wide as they could, brought their legs forward and opened up their wings wide, to provide some resistance and slow their rapid descent. As their shadows cloaked the ground in and around their quarry, a stuttered crackle pierced their ears.

  As every atom of her body drew in magic from the necklace and the dagger, her mind projected what she needed out onto the battlefield, using every ounce of her impressive force of will. With a slight shimmer and a rustle, the magical barrier extended out in front of her, enveloping her friends, providing much needed solace. A 'BANG' akin to the sound of two vehicles colliding at speed jolted reality all around them. Straight away it was followed by three more, as the proceeding dark dragons followed their friend, smashing straight into the shield, all four knocked totally unconscious.

  Wondering whether or not it was safe to leave the quartet of prehistoric beasts alive knowing that they could come back to haunt them at practically any time, Richie was secretly glad when the decision was taken out of her hands. With just the tiniest of wiggles, Fu-ts'ang backed up out of the two skewered dragons, their corpses dropping forcefully to the floor and, in a stunning display of aerial manoeuvrability, proceeded to stab each of the unconscious dragons on top of the barrier, precisely through their hearts, leaving them well and truly dead, and exactly nothing to chance.

  Able to take her mind ever so slightly off powering the shield, Richie felt a flood of relief as her anguish faded to nothing and she was able to ask her friends how they were.

  "He's hurt pretty bad," announced Peter, referring to his grandfather.

  Squeezing through the others, Yoyo knelt down next to Fredric, shrouding both of them with his wings, giving the young hockey playing dragon a wink and a nod.

  "He'll be okay. Just give me a few minutes."

  "Do we have that long?"

  "I don't know," replied Yoyo. "Do we?"

  Before Richie had a chance to respond, the young female dragon who'd come up with the plan and had sorted everyone out, cut in.

  "I'm not sure we do have that long. They're being overrun. Every second we waste puts them in increasing danger."

  Yoyo and Peter shared a look, neither of them wanting to endanger the king.

  "What about if you carry him, while I heal him?" urged Yoyo. "That way we can help with his recovery and head out towards the king without delay... the best of both worlds if you like." Keen to help out, he did briefly wonder how he was going to lift Fredric's rather impressive human shaped body aloft. Even enhanced with
magic, it seemed a tall order. But he didn't want to let anybody down, and so in one fell swoop, ignoring the thick, red blood that oozed from the gashes on his well defined chest, he lifted up the man he loved dearly, despite barely knowing him at all, cradled him in his arms and began to follow the others as Yoyo healed. Protected by the magical barrier, they shuffled off in the direction of the king and his small legion of followers.

  49 Committed to the End

  Hunkered down behind yet more of their dead brethren, to a dragon, man and woman, they all fought down the nausea that threatened to ride up their throats and give away their position, so overwhelming was the smell from all the guts and gore. With little fuss and more than a few stealthy killings, against all odds they'd made it this far, and from their hiding place in the shadows could now see the Fleet Street entrance to the building that housed the giant crystal node, the one that they hoped would help them re-establish communication across the planet, the one their friends were currently inside. All they could do was wait, and pray that things somewhere deep within the building were going exactly to plan. If Steel set off the mantra they'd know, because the results of the magic would be visible even from here, which would be their signal to attack with everything they had.

  It was dark... oddly dark. Immediately all three of them switched to their magical infrared vision, hoping to cut through the clutter and get a better idea of just where they were and just what they were dealing with. Strangely, it didn't help very much. Steel knew why. MAGIC! He didn't know what kind of magic, and couldn't explain just how he knew, but he'd never been more certain of anything in his life. It was almost as if he could taste it on the air itself. Something here was wrong, very, very wrong. Things, he thought, were not going to be as easy as he'd hoped.

  Swallowing nervously, mainly for effect but partly because that's how he felt, he assumed whoever was already in here could see him perfectly well and, knowing exactly what kind of an advantage that gave them, he hoped to hell the other two were ready for what was about to play out. They'd all need their wits about them if they were to come out of this alive.