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Fight and Flight (Magic 2.0 Book 4)

Page 19

by Scott Meyer


  Mungo said, “Nay, nor could I ever look at Grizel, or Seonag—”

  “All right, fine,” Brit said. “We get that this is important to you and all of your relatives. But why would you be so ashamed if we did this for you? Is it because we’re women?”

  The men blanched, looking genuinely hurt. Jock said, “I’m sorry, but you don’t understand. It’s not at all because you’re women. It’s because you’re not us. We have to see this through. We all promised—”

  Mungo shouted, “Promised God himself!”

  “Okay! Yes! All right,” Brit said. “You promised many people and supernatural entities that we need not list that you would kill the dragons, and you don’t want to go back and tell them that you let someone else handle it. Is that right?”

  Jock smiled and bowed. “That is correct.”

  Leslie said, “And the fact that you’re ladies would be a tad embarrassing.”

  Jock gritted his teeth, bowed more deeply, and said, “Would you mind excusing us again?”

  Brit and Gwen nodded.

  The Highlanders huddled up again, but instead of talking, they all took turns slapping Leslie on the back of the head. Kyle took several turns.

  23.

  Gary lay on the crest of the hill, flushed and panting.

  It was not a particularly tall hill, but it was steep, and it had put up a good fight.

  The loose dirt had given way more than once during his climb. On one occasion, he grasped at a large weed sprouting out of the side of the hill, hoping to pull himself up Indiana Jones style. Then the weed tore loose from the soil, just like the weed had for Indy. Gary’s arm shot backward until his clenched fist slammed into his forehead. His weight pitched backward, and he only managed to keep from falling by turning and sprinting all the way down the hill.

  He went more slowly and carefully on his next try, and made it to the top. Then he lay on the ground panting while Tyler laughed.

  “You think it’s real funny,” Gary said between breaths. “Don’t you?”

  “I do. I really do.”

  “You think you coulda done better?”

  “At climbing, probably not. But I like to think that I would have remembered that we can fly. At least the girl isn’t crying anymore. Watching you cheered her right up.”

  “Good. She’ll be crying again soon enough. So, back to Plan A. You go grab her and run clear; I’ll appear behind the dragon and take it out.”

  “No, Gary. I told you—we aren’t going to do that.”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Yes,” Tyler said. “I’ll go reason with her.”

  “I already tried reasoning with her.”

  “Yes, and having me do it is a better idea.”

  Tyler stood up and looked down at the little girl and the dragon she’d named Kelly. They hadn’t moved a muscle since Gary left them.

  Tyler looked down at Gary and muttered, “Here’s how a wizard does it.” He raised his staff and floated forward silently, landing on the ground a nonthreatening ten feet in front of the girl.

  Tyler smiled at the girl. She frowned at him.

  Tyler smiled up at the dragon. It looked down at Tyler with an expression that seemed familiar, and definitely hostile, but hard for Tyler to place.

  It’s like it thinks I’m beneath contempt, and it really wants to eat me. Like I’m both food and garbage. Then it struck Tyler. That’s probably the expression I have on my face when I look at a Big Mac.

  Tyler said, “Hello. My name’s Tyler. What’s your name?”

  The girl said, “I told your friend that I don’t talk to strange men.”

  “Yes. That’s very wise, but you see—”

  “Yeah, your friend kept talking when I told him that, too. Your friend seemed really dumb, mister. My daddy says I shouldn’t be friends with dumb people. He says that if your friends are dumb, you get dumb.”

  “There’s probably some wisdom in that.”

  “How long have you been friends with him? A long time, I bet.”

  Five minutes later, Tyler stood up straight and tall, turned his back on the little girl and her dragon, and flew back to Gary’s position with a look of dignified stoicism on his face. Gary had heard the entire conversation, and enjoyed every second of it.

  As Tyler landed, Gary asked, “When she called you Butt Brain, do you think she meant that your brain is in your butt, or that your brain is a butt?”

  “I hadn’t given it much thought,” Tyler said, through gritted teeth.

  “But if you were to give it some thought, would you do it in your b—”

  Tyler pointed his staff at Gary. The silver hood ornament wobbled in the air inches from Gary’s face.

  “Keep talking,” Tyler said. “Say one more word. That’s all the excuse I need.”

  Gary carefully pushed the hood ornament away from his face and smiled up at Tyler. “She’s harder to deal with than we expected.”

  Tyler deflated. “Yeah. She’s . . . she’s a real pill. I had to leave before I did something I’d be ashamed of.”

  “And you’re not ashamed of letting a little girl talk to you like that?”

  “No. I’m not particularly proud of it either. We have to figure out how to get her away from that dragon.”

  Gary said, “I have an idea.”

  Tyler looked up hopefully and said, “Shoot.”

  “You go down there, grab the girl by the arm, and drag her away from the dragon.”

  Tyler looked away from Gary, disgusted, and mumbled, “Shoot.”

  “How much time are we going to waste getting rid of this one dragon?”

  “As much time as it takes to figure out a way that doesn’t involve manhandling a child.”

  Gary shook his head. “So instead you’re trying to think of a way to trick her.”

  “I’d like to walk away from this not feeling like a monster.” Tyler stood up, beat the dust out of his red-and-purple-striped robe, straightened the matching hat, and said, “I’m going back in.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to go lure her away from the dragon.”

  “How?”

  “Somehow. I don’t know. Just wait here and be ready to transport in behind that dragon as soon as she’s far enough away.”

  Tyler pointed his staff and glided down the cliff face to a patch of ground near the pond’s edge that he figured was far enough away to be safe for him and the girl when Gary lowered the boom.

  Tyler forced a cheery look onto his face, and in a bright, friendly voice said, “Hello again.”

  The girl turned at the waist and craned her neck to glare sidelong at Tyler, and said, “Go away!”

  “Now, now, there’s no need to be rude.”

  “You’re the one being rude,” the girl shouted, “by bothering me when you know I don’t want to talk to you, because you’re stupid!”

  Tyler dropped the cheery facade, but managed to maintain his temper. “There’s no need for insults either.”

  “That’s right! You should say you’re sorry!”

  “What for?”

  “Insulting me! You called me rude, Butt Brain.”

  In his ear, Tyler heard Gary, talking to him through the battle comm. “She actually has a point, Tyler. Maybe you should apologize.”

  Tyler shook his head.

  “Come on, Tyler. You know you’ve gotta.”

  Tyler shook his head again.

  “What’s the goal here?” Gary asked. “To make the girl admit she’s wrong, or to get her away from the dragon so we can take it out and never see her again?”

  Tyler clenched his jaw so hard he feared his teeth would crack. He parted his lips and grunted, �
��I’m sorry.”

  The girl smiled beatifically and said, “Apology accepted.”

  Tyler closed his eyes. Gotta calm down. Gotta think rationally. Remember what the goal is here, just like Gary said. Wait, I’m following Gary’s advice now? Is that really thinking rationally? Eh, first time for everything. Gotta get her away from the dragon. What can I use to draw her over? What does she like? Dragons! Making a second dragon seems counterproductive. She likes insulting me. Making me feel bad. Maybe I can use that.

  Tyler said, “I challenge you to a game.”

  The girl sighed heavily but asked, “What kind of game?”

  “It’s like Follow the Leader, but in reverse.”

  The girl thought a moment, then said, “So, I don’t follow the leader?”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “That’d just be me standing here watching you act like a fool.”

  “Yeah, that’s not the game.”

  “Good, ’cause I’m already doing that.”

  Tyler said, “The way the game works is, whatever I do, you do the opposite. If I raise my left arm, you raise your right. If I take a step forward, you take a step back. We do that until you mess up, then you lead, and I follow, and we see who can go longest without making a mistake.”

  The girl said, “That’s a dumb game. I don’t wanna play.”

  “You’re afraid you’ll lose.”

  The girl looked disgusted, but said, “Fine.” She stood and faced Tyler.

  Tyler put down his staff, stood with his arms at his sides, and said, “Okay, starting now,” and lifted his right arm. The girl lifted her left.

  Tyler lifted his left arm. The girl lifted her right.

  Tyler took a small step to the left. She took a small step to the right.

  Tyler took a giant step backward. The girl took a giant step forward. The dragon stayed put.

  Tyler took another giant step backward. She took another forward while the dragon didn’t move.

  Tyler lowered his right arm, and whispered, “How much farther?”

  Gary said, “One more big step ought to do it.”

  Tyler took a large step backward. He felt the panicky sensation of his foot not finding ground where it thought it would. Then he felt his foot plunge into cold water, followed by soft mud. He waved his arms in an effort to stay upright, but in the end it only made a larger, more interesting splash as he fell backward into the pond.

  He thrashed around for a few seconds, then stood up, still knee-deep in the cold, muddy water.

  Tyler muttered, “She’s far enough away. Make your move!”

  Gary said, “Actually, she’s still too close. When I said one more big step would do it, I meant it would drop you in the pond, and I was right!”

  24.

  Jeff and Roy watched the dragons creep toward the pile of apples. When the lead dragon looked ready to venture its first exploratory bite, Jeff took to the sky, pulling the apples along in his wake. He flew barely faster than a walking pace at first, watching as the horned dragon snapped its jaws at the empty space where the apples had been. The dragon stepped forward, then leapt forward, then ran, and finally took to the air. Soon, Jeff was flying backward, pointing his wand behind him at the flying pile of apples. Beyond it, he saw a parade of five dragons, flying in a loose single file line, slowly gaining on him.

  Jeff needed to gauge his speed carefully, making sure that he kept the dragons close enough to not lose interest in the apples, but not so close that they ever caught up and discovered that the apples were an illusion. He also had to steer the whole processional in a large turn and then come back past Roy so he could place the goal, and do all of this while flying backward.

  He managed the turn, and dropped altitude so that he passed Roy at a distance of about two hundred feet and a height of one hundred. He risked glancing away from the dragons long enough to see Roy standing with his staff at his side, making no effort to create a goal.

  “What the hell?” Jeff yelled.

  Roy shouted back, “I’m just enjoying the show.”

  Jeff led the dragons away, through a wide radius turn, and back past Roy, who still did nothing.

  “Come on, man!” Jeff shouted.

  Roy said, “Maybe next time!”

  “Any time now, Roy,” Jeff shouted as he passed his compatriot, still standing on the ground, refusing to create a goal in front of the lead dragon.

  “I have an idea, kid. Back at Leadchurch, we beat the dragons eventually, but not until all the civilians had hidden indoors, right? So all any of them saw was us pretty much getting our butts handed to us.”

  “So?”

  “So, we looked like a bunch of idiots. We can’t just leave it like that. Word will get around. It’s bad for business. We need to save face, do something to show we’re in control so that when people hear about how we screwed up in Leadchurch they won’t buy it. Right now, all of those people standing on the city wall are watching you lead these dragons around like a herd of baby ducks. It’s impressive. So why end it?”

  “You want me to showboat for the crowd?”

  “Think of it as PR. The military has air shows. Why not us? My boy, you and those dragons are the wizards’ Blue Angels.”

  “Okay, I get it. I guess there’s no harm in putting on a little show before we take the dragons out. What should I do?”

  Roy said, “I don’t know. I’m not a dragon choreographer. Make something up. Just make sure it’s fancy. And get in close to the crowd. Buzz them a couple times.”

  Jeff aimed himself in a direction parallel to the wall, at an altitude where he would not hit anything, and looked back over his shoulder so he could watch the dragons. He wasn’t directly controlling the dragons, just the apples they chased, but he could use that to his advantage. He spun the tip of his wand in a slow, clockwise circle. The apples moved in proportion to the wand. The lead dragon followed the apples. The second dragon followed the first. The pattern continued through all five dragons, resulting in a graceful spiral.

  Jeff spun the wand the other direction. The spiral reversed direction.

  Jeff moved the wand up and down, and watched as a wave propagated through the tail of the last dragon, like a whip cracking.

  Jeff stopped, hovering stationary above the ground and slowly spun, holding his wand out to the side. The apples and the dragons flew around him in a wide circle.

  “Roy, are you seeing this?”

  “Yeah, it’s real impressive.”

  “I know, it’s kinda like rhythmic gymnastics. You know, like in the Olympics.”

  Jeff experimented with making the dragons double back, trying to see how tight a turn they could manage. When he thought he had a good idea of their capabilities, he flew toward the wall.

  As part of Jimmy’s “civic renewal” program, back when he went mad with power, he put a protective wall around the entire city. He built it in solid gold, of course, because that way it matched the immense castle he also built. Anything else would have been gauche. Or, at least, more gauche.

  The wall stood three stories tall and at least ten feet wide. The top of the wall teemed with people who had heard about the wizards and the dragons doing something and wanted to see for themselves.

  Jeff flew straight toward the spectators, trailing the dragons behind him. He stopped, then brought the dragons around so that the far end of their circular course took them directly over the people’s heads. The dragons were easily twenty feet above them, but the people still ducked and shrieked as they passed by.

  Jeff turned around, swinging the dragons in a wide arc. He made the dragons fly in a loop, then nearly hit the wall before doubling back, then fly in an inverted loop, then over the wall and the crowd again.

  Jeff brought the dragons to the p
oint of the circle farthest from the wall and the crowd, then swung the wand and the apples up over his head. The apples traced a curved path over him and down toward the ground just inside the city wall. The dragons obediently followed.

  As he turned back to execute the apples’ recovery from the dive, he noticed that he had drifted a bit closer than he’d thought, but he wasn’t worried about it. He made the apples pull up over the wall, back out into the open. The dragons followed the apples into the dive, but dropped behind the wall and did not come back out.

  Jeff heard yelling. He quickly flew over the wall and looked down at the spot beneath where he’d last seen the dragons.

  “Oh, fantastic,” Jeff moaned. “Of all the places to put on our little air show, we pick a spot right next to the farmers’ market.”

  Roy said, “I didn’t know that Camelot has a farmers’ market!”

  “Had, Roy. Had.”

  25.

  Bishop Galbraith slowly opened his eyes. At first he thought he was staring directly into the sun, flooding his eyes with blindingly powerful light. Then he feared that he had gone blind, and that his damaged eyes would only show him an unbroken field of white for the rest of his life.

  He blinked several times, and saw the world go dark for a microsecond each time. He strained to roll his eyes downward and saw a blurry view of the side of his own nose. He puckered his mouth to the very limits of his strength in an attempt to see his lips until he heard a female voice say, “Okay, he’s awake.” He immediately relaxed his face muscles. He had established that he could see. Now he didn’t want to look ridiculous.

  Galbraith realized that the unbroken field of white light was actually an unbroken surface as white as milk, hanging above him. He could see a dim reflection of himself, a dark mass of leather and wool and hair with a wooden cross around his neck and an arrow sticking out of his leg. He puzzled over what this miracle material could possibly be until he saw the faces of two women, who approached either side of his bed and looked down at him.

 

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