Fight and Flight (Magic 2.0 Book 4)

by Scott Meyer

  Martin still hovered above the crowd, but now energy seamed to radiate from him in thick, fast, dangerous-looking waves. A pentagram drawn in silver flames floated in the space behind him. His eyes, mouth, ears, and nostrils emitted silver light as if his skull had been hollowed out and his brain replaced with a halogen bulb. He spoke in a voice not only tremendously amplified but deeper, and made to reverberate as if he were singing in the world’s largest bathroom.

  “All right, you primitive screw heads, listen up!”

  The crowd had fallen silent as soon as the explosion fired, and they stayed silent. Even the dragons lifted their heads from their feast to look.

  Martin spread his hands with a flourish, like a casino hotel owner in a bad in-room video, showing guests how large the pool is. A glimmering wall appeared, forming a large circle, blocking all of the streets and paths leading to or from the marketplace and cutting through buildings and objects in its path.

  “We will finish this now. Nobody comes or goes until this dispute is settled. Nobody speaks until I tell them to. There will be order. Is that understood?”

  Nobody said a word.

  “You may speak to answer.”

  Martin couldn’t make out any one person’s voice, but the crowd’s general murmuring sounded positive.

  Watching from well above and far away, Jeff said, “This is exactly the kind of thing Roy and I were trying to avoid.”

  Brit said, “Yeah, but do you really prefer what you got instead?”

  A single voice in the crowd called out, “Hello Martin. I’m glad to see you.”

  Martin peered into the crowd, trying to locate the person talking, then said, “Oh, hey, Pat.” He turned back to look at the other wizards, still floating a good distance away, watching. “It’s Pat. I buy cheese from him.” Martin never ate the cheese, or any of the food from the Middle Ages, because of their less-advanced ideas about refrigeration, cross-contamination, and whether it was necessary to wash the manure off of a piece of food before you ate it. Nonetheless, he made a point of purchasing things from the local merchants just to be a good neighbor.

  “What are you doing way over here on this side of town, Pat? Kinda far from your usual territory, aren’t you?”

  “One must go where the business is,” Pat said.

  Martin smiled. “Yeah, I suppose so. About that . . . You know what? One moment, please.” Martin had realized that the tone of the conversation had turned cordial enough that it no longer felt appropriate to speak in a terrifying voice with light radiating from every hole in his head while floating in front of a pentagram. He pulled out his phone, poked at it a few times, and one by one the light, pentagram, waves of energy, and reverb went away. The silver walls and the amplification stayed, for now.

  “Okay,” Martin said. “My friends, the wizards Jeff and Roy, don’t own these dragons. Nobody owns these dragons. These are dangerous wild animals that my friends came here to get rid of before they hurt anybody. The first vendor’s cart got destroyed, they felt bad about it, and reimbursed him. Then things got out of hand. I’m sure you can all understand that.”

  A plaintive voice from the crowd cried, “But I’m out all my stock of gourds! It’s not fair that that other guy got paid for his stuff and I get nothing.”

  Roy, still angry and full of adrenaline, bellowed, “Life isn’t fair! I never told you to feed your damn gourds to the dragons!”

  “What about my building?” another voice cried. “The dragons burned my building down!”

  “Your building didn’t burn down,” Roy said. “It’s still standing right over there. It’s singed at worst, and I know for a fact that you set that fire yourself.”

  “Are you calling me a liar, sir?”

  “I didn’t call you a liar, I just pointed out that you’re lying.”

  Martin said, “Okay, enough, shut up the both of you.” And, because his voice was still the loudest thing in the city, they both did.

  “We can stand here and argue all day, but it won’t solve anything. Here’s what we’re going to do instead. Roy, you’re going to get out of here for a while. I think everyone can agree that you’ve been through, and caused, a lot of stress. You could do with a little time to calm down. All of you who have lost your belongings to the dragons will form a single-file line around the outside of the market. One by one, me and some of my wizard friends will hear your complaints and compensate you in gold. You all know that you were trying to take advantage of the situation. We could just leave you with nothing, but we aren’t. We’ll try to be fair, but we also aren’t going to put up with any argument. Understood?”

  Martin believed that the crowd understood. He also believed that there would still be more than a few arguments, but they’d take that on a case-by-case basis.

  Roy and Jeff watched, disgusted, while Martin, Gwen, Brit, and Phillip worked their way through the line. The wizards erred on the side of generosity, and most of the merchants were grateful to be getting anything by that point, so there was little argument and the line moved fast.

  Tyler and Gary took care of the dragons in the same manner they’d taken out the majority of the dragons in Wales, by distracting them, eradicating the dragon at the rear of the group butterfly-net style, then disappearing. It didn’t take long, and the crowd found it quite entertaining. Tyler and Gary fed off of the crowd’s energy, and did a little showboating. Tyler appeared before the dragons floating upside down, or wearing a different robe and asked the dragons if it made him look fat. Gary swung his staff, and the goal attached to it, with all of the grace and subtlety of a twelve-year-old using a wrapping-paper tube as a sword.

  As Gary lowered the goal over the last remaining dragon, a cheer went up from the citizens still watching from the wall and the merchants standing in line. Tyler and Gary took a bow, then Tyler turned to Gary, held a palm up at face level and said, “High-five!”

  Gary said, “You had plenty of chances,” and walked away.

  When all of the merchants had been paid off, Martin removed the walls he had created, and the crowd dispersed. Many of them traded disdainful glares with Roy on the way. Once they were all out of earshot, Roy said, “I hate the idea that all these frauds managed to turn a profit off of this.”

  Phillip patted him on the back. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that, Roy. I think that unless they spend that gold pretty fast, they’ll find that it has been significantly devalued in the British Isles.”

  “Why?”

  “We’ll tell you later.”

  “Yeah,” Martin said. “Over dinner. I say we all celebrate. Those were the last of the dragons, right?”

  Jeff had his dragon map out, and said, “Eh, almost. There are still those three stragglers in the woods outside Leadchurch. They weren’t in as dangerous a spot as these in Camelot, so we left them for last. Looks like they haven’t moved much at all, so that’s good. Roy and I’ll just go get them and then it’s all done.”

  Phillip said, “You know what? You and Roy have had it pretty hard today, and frankly, I think of Leadchurch as my territory. I’ll go get them. Brit explained her method to me. It seems pretty straightforward.”

  The rest of the wizards sort of communally shrugged.

  Martin said, “Okay, then. Everyone else come to my place. Phillip, you meet up with us later. Promise you’ll call if you need some help.”

  Phillip agreed, and a few seconds later, every wizard but Phillip appeared in the living quarters and workshop at the rear of Martin’s warehouse. A quick, informal game of musical chairs ensued as everyone tried to find a seat. They all sagged for a second, exhausted, before Martin, playing the good host, said, “Okay, let’s talk dinner. Pizza or Chinese?”

  They all lay motionless for a moment, trying to summon the will to answer, but before they could, the peace was shattered
by the high-pitched warbling noise that signified a call coming in from another wizard. Martin lifted his hand and saw an image of Phillip floating in his palm.

  Phillip’s voice said, “On second thought, I could use some help. From all of you. Now.”

  37.

  Honor woke up to find Kludge kneeling over her, holding her tiny shoulder in his huge, meaty hand. Runt sat next to her, whining a bit. When Honor looked at Runt, the dog stopped whining and rested her head on Honor’s thigh.

  Honor pushed Kludge’s hands away and sat up, rubbing her eyes. She had fallen asleep watching the Bastards practice flying the dragons. She looked up and saw that they were still up there, steering their dragons in long, relaxed curves, or the occasional banking slalom.

  “Hmmm. I’m a bit hungry. Think I could get a scone?”

  “Stretch has been making them dragon sized, but I’ll have him break a corner off of one for you,” Kludge said.

  “I hope you haven’t used up all of my flour and butter. Sonny and I traded a lot of mutton for that.”

  “We did use up what you had, but I sent Gripper into town to replace all of it and get enough to make scones ourselves.”

  “Oh,” Honor said. “Good. What did you trade for it?”

  Kludge laughed, looked at Honor for a long moment, then decided to change the subject. “Your brother’s name is Sonny.” He said it like a statement, but he had meant it as a question.

  “Yes. I just had a dream about him.”

  “From the way you were shouting Sonny, I figured it was either that or you were dreaming that you were a deaf old lady.”

  “Wow! They’re getting pretty good at that.” Honor pointed at the other gang members drifting around the sky on the backs of dragons. Now it was her turn to change the subject.

  “Better than I ever expected,” Kludge said. “The dragons seem to like being ridden. It’s like they go into a kind of trance. I wish horses were as easy to ride.”

  “The boys seem sure of themselves. Seems brave of them to be going so high.”

  “What’s the point of riding a flying dragon if you stay close to the ground? Besides, it ain’t an accident that gangs are made up of young men who have nothing. We value our lives little enough to risk them for a little money or a lot of fun.”

  “Still only three dragons? We haven’t found more?”

  “No, but that’s fine. Might be better. We can double up this way. We could patrol the skies and attack any wizard we see. We’ll take it in shifts until we actually find one of them, then I figure one guy can fly the dragon and a second will ride behind him, tied together at the waist. They’re practicing it right now. The one in back can throw rocks or shoot arrows. Maybe taunt the wizards. Anything that makes ’em unhappy. They’re practicing with the rocks right now.”

  “Why start with rocks? Arrows seem like a better weapon.”

  “Yeah, but before we can get any archery practice we’ll need to steal some bows.”

  Honor looked past the dragons at the sky itself. It was late enough that she wouldn’t be quite comfortable calling it late afternoon, but she also couldn’t quite call it early evening. “So, what do you think? Are you planning to go after the wizards tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. We could be in Leadchurch by nightfall, but it’s been a big day. I figure the lads’ll be more dangerous after a good night’s sleep.”

  “Kludge, do you think you can really beat the wizards?”

  “The dragons are the break I’ve been waiting for. I’ll never get a better chance.”

  “But can you really do it?”

  “Yes. I believe I can.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have to believe I can, or believe that I can’t. Those are the only two options. And I don’t want to believe that I can’t.”

  Honor said, “I guess we’ll find out for sure at dawn.”

  “Yeah,” Kludge agreed. “Unless something happens that makes us attack sooner.”

  They both saw movement in a part of the sky where there were no dragons. It was Phillip, flying into view.

  “Something like that,” Kludge said.

  Phillip stopped all forward flight and looked at the dragons, clearly stunned to see people riding them.

  Kludge pointed up at Phillip and shouted, “Attack! Attack! It’s a wizard! Get him!”

  The three dragons turned sharply in the air, making tight spirals until their riders caught sight of Phillip, then all three started to converge on his location.

  On the ground, Stretch came running from the spot next to the fire he’d been occupying most of the day. “Do you want I should attack, too, Kludge? I only ask because I have a batch of scones baking. They aren’t quite ready yet, but they’re due to come out soon. It’s really easy to burn them if—”

  Kludge shouted, “Stretch, stay with the scones.” Then he shouted toward the dragons, “Pounder, get down here, now!”

  Pounder was the one Bastard riding solo. He peeled off from the other two and descended back to the ground. Gripper and L.L. guided their dragons into a swooping dive to intercept Phillip. They flew in rings around him while Only Donnie and Heel-Kick rode behind them, each carrying a large sack full of rocks.

  Phillip recognized the Bastards, of course. Anyone who lived in Leadchurch and wanted to keep all of their teeth knew how to recognize and avoid the gang. Phillip, as a wizard, was invulnerable to physical attacks. As long as he had his powers, the only nonmagical ways to kill him were to starve him, smother him, or deny him water until he died of dehydration, none of which were part of the standard street-tough repertoire. They couldn’t hurt him, but they could easily hurt other people, or themselves, so Phillip decided to try starting with diplomacy.

  “Gentlemen! Good to see you. I must say, I’m impressed that you’ve managed to learn to ride dragons. You seem quite adept, and I know you haven’t had much time to learn. Congratulations! If I might inquire, what’s in those bags? The ones the passengers are carrying. Yes, what is that?”

  A small rock bounced off of Phillip’s head.

  “I see. They’re rocks,” he said, shielding his head with his arms as best he could. “Yes. Both of you have rocks. Look, there’s no need to keep throwing them. I’m fully aware that you have rocks. Aren’t you better than this? Riding dragons and using them as a platform for rock throwing? Really? I mean they aren’t even hurting me. You can see that. They bounce ri—oof. Okay, very good. You got one in my mouth. It was blind luck, but still, bravo.”

  The dragon riders kept circling Phillip, pelting him with rocks. Phillip said, “Persona ŝildo.” The rocks stopped hitting him, instead bouncing off of an invisible force-field cylinder that surrounded him.

  “There, see, your rocks can’t hit me anymore. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to make a quick call.”

  * * *

  Pounder brought his dragon, the only one with those tough-looking horns, down next to Kludge. One of the primary skills that all of the Bastards had mastered was the ability to anticipate what Kludge wanted.

  It went without saying that you gave Kludge whatever he wanted, but the Bastards who managed to stay in the gang and remain healthy tended to try to give him what he wanted before he requested it, as Kludge’s requests usually came with some form of physical abuse.

  Pounder pushed himself farther back on the dragon so that Kludge could take control and said, “Come on, Boss. Let’s go!”

  Kludge hoisted himself onto the dragon’s shoulders, then shoved Pounder off of the beast’s back. Pounder landed on his side and rolled, trying to get wind back in his lungs.

  Kludge said, “You stay here and watch the girl.”

  Honor said, “Yeah, watch me go with Kludge to fight the wizards.”

  “No,” Kludge said, “you aren’t coming
with me.”

  Honor had already shoved Runt in her carry bag and was pulling herself with great difficulty up onto the dragon’s back behind Kludge. “Fine,” she said, “If you don’t want to go with me, stay here, but I’m going after the wizards!”

  Kludge bared his teeth at her and growled. When that had no effect, he bared his teeth again and growled, “All right, hang on then.”

  Pounder lay there, dumbfounded by what he’d seen. Not the sight of a man, a girl, and a dog flying away on the back of a dragon, but the sight of Honor standing up to Kludge and getting her way.

  * * *

  The rest of the wizards appeared, suspended in midair around Phillip.

  “Okay,” Martin asked, “What’s going on?”

  Phillip said, “Kludge and the Bastards found the dragons and figured out how to ride them.”

  Jeff spun around. “Hey, the dragon-riding algorithm seems to work great, doesn’t it?”

  “That’s really not the point,” Phillip said.

  Gwen cried out, more in surprise than pain, “What was that?”

  “Probably a rock,” Phillip said. “They’re also throwing rocks.”

  Gwen rubbed the back of her head and said, “That’s just petty.” She quickly created a force field around herself to repel the rocks. The other wizards followed suit, showing Gwen that she’d had a good idea without lowering themselves to actually telling her. The onslaught continued but now, instead of hitting the wizards and causing them to flinch involuntarily, the rocks bounced off their invisible barriers, causing them to flinch involuntarily.