Fight and Flight (Magic 2.0 Book 4)

by Scott Meyer

  Tyler said, “This isn’t good.”

  Roy countered, “No, it’s great. Phil wanted to put on a bit of a show for the people in town to rehabilitate our image. What’ll look better: getting rid of three dragons, or defeating the town’s most feared hoodlums while they’re riding dragons with intent to harm us?”

  “Again with the air-show concept,” Jeff said. “We tried to grandstand earlier and you saw where that got us.”

  “Yeah,” Roy said, “But we learned from our mistake.”

  “Did we? I know I did, but you? I’m not so sure.”

  “Kid, what are the odds of things going south on us twice in one day?”

  “Given that it’s us, pretty good.”

  Roy turned away from Jeff and toward Phillip. “Look, they’re trying to hurt us, right? We’ll keep them focused on us, lead them around the outside of town or very high over it, not down in the streets. Then, after we’ve put on a little bit of a show, we separate the guys from the dragons somehow and take the dragons out. It’s a good plan.”

  Jeff said, “Good plans almost never contain the word somehow.”

  Phillip bit his lip, thought a second, and said, “Yeah, okay, but we try to keep them from going over the town itself, and we only play with them for a minute—two tops—before we get rid of them. Got it?”

  A few of the wizards said yes as if this was the best idea they’d ever heard. The rest said yes as if it was the worst.

  Gary pointed off into the distance. “Leadchurch is that way. I guess we should get a move on.” He set out first, but all of the wizards followed very close behind. Phillip left last, partly because of his lack of enthusiasm for the plan, but mostly because he was distracted and confused by something he had seen as the group left.

  Brit noticed that Phillip seemed preoccupied, flying forward, but continually looking back. She decreased speed slightly to draw even with him.

  “What?” she asked.

  Phillip shook his head, looked at her, and asked, “What?”

  “That’s what I’m asking. What’s bothering you, Phillip? I can tell something’s up.”

  “Oh, it’s probably nothing. Just something weird I thought I saw.”

  “Given the current situation, I’d be curious to hear what struck you as being particularly weird.”

  Phillip chuckled, then said, “For just a moment, I could have sworn that one of the dragons is being piloted by one person who has three heads.”

  * * *

  Kludge, Honor, and Runt hadn’t quite reached the group when the wizards flew away. The other two dragons continued to circle around an empty chunk of sky while the riders and rock throwers decided how to react, and dodged rocks that had been thrown while there were still intended targets in the crossfire.

  Any doubt about how to proceed evaporated the instant they saw Kludge fly past, yelling “After them, fools!”

  The wizards flew well below their top speed, but took great care to almost exactly match the dragons’ top speed. They flew in a loose clump, mostly looking to the rear, instead of where they were going. Behind them, the three dragons flew in a V formation, with the horned dragon ridden by Kludge and his passengers in the lead.

  Kludge sat across the dragon’s shoulders with his legs hooked under its wings. He had a death grip on the edges of two of the scales on either side of the dragon’s neck. He concentrated on catching up to the wizards while trying not to think about what would happen if he lost his grip.

  Honor would have said she was standing behind Kludge, and her feet were resting on the dragon’s back, but it would be more accurate to say that shy was lying on Kludge’s back with her upper body slewed far to the left so she could see around his head. She had her arms wrapped tight around his torso, and was concentrating on catching up to the wizards while trying not to think about what would happen if she lost her grip on Kludge.

  Most of Runt’s body was in Honor’s sack, which was slung around her right side and lay on Kludge’s back, a smallish mass of warm, dead weight. Runt’s head protruded out into the open, and stuck up and to the right so she could see around the other side of Kludge’s head. She was concentrating only on how good the wind felt rushing over her tongue, because it was simply unthinkable to her that Honor would ever let her fall.

  Kludge looked at the makeup of the two sides and did the math. He counted eight wizards. On his side, he had three dragons, two of which held two men each, the third of which carried himself, Honor, and Runt. Add all of them together, including the dragons and Runt, that made ten fighting on his side, which was more than eight, so the very laws of mathematics stated that Kludge would be victorious. He knew that this was terrible reasoning, but these dragons were the best chance he might ever get to show the wizards that he wouldn’t be pushed around, and he didn’t intend to let it slip through his fingers just because it was a terrible idea.

  The trickiest part would be finding a way to get the girl safely on the ground before things turned violent. He’d let her tag along because he hadn’t had time to argue, and she had as much reason to want to see the wizards go down as anyone, but he had no intention of letting her be anywhere nearby when things turned ugly.

  One of the wizards, the older one in a light blue robe, kept looking back at him.

  The wizard slowed slightly, drawing in closer to Kludge’s dragon. Kludge cursed the fact that they hadn’t found a way to make the dragons breathe fire on command. If he had, he could have roasted the wizard like a big light blue squab.

  The wizard got close enough to get a good look at Kludge and Honor, and seemed horrified. The wizard flew through the air only feet in front of Kludge’s dragon. He turned, and in a voice full of anger and reproach said, “Kludge, on the ground now!”

  Town was pretty far from the Bastards’ camp and Honor’s farm beyond it, as judged by people who had to ride horses along the winding, muddy road, walk along the same road, or push their way through the woods to get there. For wizards and dragons flying in a straight line at a little under thirty-five miles per hour, the trip took less than a minute.

  By the time Phillip recognized what and who he was looking at, the town was close enough to see people walking around the buildings.

  Kludge scowled at Phillip, but silently thanked him for the excuse to drop Honor off. He landed in the street outside the Rotted Stump.

  Phillip landed in front of the dragon. He said something, but Kludge didn’t hear. He listened instead to Honor, who squeezed him slightly tighter and whispered in his ear, “This one’s their leader. I’ll handle him. You go back up and help the others.”

  Kludge looked at her, incredulously, then turned to Phillip and said, “What did you say?”

  Phillip said, “Let the girl go.”

  Kludge’s first impulse was to do anything but what the wizard had told him to, but Honor was already scrambling down off the dragon, and she seemed at least marginally safer on solid ground with one wizard than up in the sky, clinging to a dragon, surrounded by the other seven wizards.

  Kludge gave Phillip a look he hoped communicated the idea that if any harm came to Honor, he would kill Phillip. He figured Phillip probably misinterpreted it as a threat to kill him in any case, but Kludge didn’t mind so much.

  Honor hit the ground. She pulled Runt out of her bag and put her down. Then Honor reached into the bag and locked eyes on Phillip, but spoke to Kludge. “Go!”

  Phillip shouted, “Yeah, go, Kludge! Run! I knew you were a coward, but I didn’t think you’d use a little orphan girl as a human shield.”

  Kludge reluctantly dug his heels into the dragon’s ribs. As the great beast took off, he saw Honor start running toward Phillip, and heard her shout, “I’m not a shield! I’m a sword!”

  * * *

  The remainder of the wizards were still
flying high above the outskirts of town, and they found themselves in a situation familiar to anyone who has ever been attacked by a kitten. They were the target of an irritating and embarrassing assault by an obviously inferior force, and they had to find a way to end the fight without harming the opponent, who seemed intent on murdering them. They flew in a tight group, followed by two dragons, the riders of which were still peppering them with rocks.

  “Okay,” Brit said, as a rock bounced harmlessly off the force field behind her. “Ideas, anyone?”

  Gary twitched as a rock hit the force field near his head, and said, “How about we just yank them off the dragons one at a time, then take out the dragons when we’re done?”

  Gwen said, “We’d have to be careful. Grabbing them by an arm or a leg with a force field at the speeds we’re moving could easily break bones. Even if we got them around the torso, if we pull too hard there could be internal injuries.”

  Brit asked, “Do you have an answer to that, Gary?”

  Gary said, “No. I hadn’t thought it through. Heck, I didn’t even think of using magic. I meant just flying up and, like, grabbing them by the collar or something.”

  “And you expected to carry them all the way to the ground like that?” Brit asked.

  “I already said I hadn’t thought it through.”

  Tyler said, “The point is, we have to get the Bastards off the dragons gently, in a way that they know they’re supported. We don’t want them to think they’re falling and die of a heart attack.”

  “Yes. Good point,” Brit said. “The most important thing is to get this done without any nonwizards getting hurt, even the ones attacking us.”

  A rock nearly, but didn’t quite, hit Brit in the face, causing her to cringe and mutter a string of obscenities.

  Gary asked, “Are you sure we can’t hurt them at all?”

  Brit chose not to answer.

  Roy said, “I have an idea. The dragons sail right through our force fields, but the people riding them wouldn’t.”

  Martin said, “Yeah, we can screen them off.”

  “Yeah,” Roy said. “But, if we just throw one up in front of them it’ll be like running full speed into a brick wall, and the dragons’ wings would crush their legs. I think though, if it was a spherical force field that appeared around them, then moved forward clear of the wings, then straight up, it’d pull them off with nothing worse than a few scrapes.”

  Tyler added, “And if you make the bubble glow, they’ll know they’re held up by something.”

  “Yeah, but it’ll take me a few minutes to program.”

  Brit said, “I’m sure it will. In the meantime, we get to try out our anti-dragon macros on live targets. Just remember, keep it strictly kid gloves.”

  Gary pumped his fist and said, “Woooohoooo!”

  Martin said, “I think kid gloves means no Uzi, Gary.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe it means I only fire my Uzi over their heads.”

  * * *

  Phillip was in a similar predicament. An opponent who couldn’t possibly hope to defeat him was attacking him nonetheless. But his friends faced an at least formidable-looking force in the sky fairly distant from the citizens of Leadchurch. Phillip faced the town’s favorite orphan girl in the middle of the street. The locals hadn’t come out to gawk yet, but the sight of a dragon ridden by the town’s top bully, landing in the street followed closely by the town’s top wizard, had drawn everybody to the windows. Especially in the tavern, where watching people fight was one of the primary pastimes.

  Phillip hadn’t fully processed this, or much of anything. Having the girl he thought he’d rescued prove just as hostile as the man Phillip had rescued her from, then start frantically rushing him while screaming bloody murder, caused his entire nervous system to freeze.

  Honor suffered no such paralysis. Her mind and body were both working far faster than normal. She closed the distance between herself and Phillip in no time at all, then used her momentum to give her attack more power.

  Honor was a girl, but she had a brother, and had had a father, both of whom wanted her to be able to protect herself. They had each, at one point or another, explained to her the best, and by best they meant worst, place to kick a man. That is where she attacked Phillip, but instead of kicking, because of her shorter stature and running start, she chose to punch instead.

  Phillip was a wizard. This meant that he was impervious to physical damage, but this was not the same as being immune to pain. Impacts could still hurt, and impacts to the area Honor had targeted still hurt quite a bit.

  This was a substantial weakness for the male wizards, but nobody had thought of a permanent solution to resolve it. In the end, the wizards decided that the best way to protect that area was to act in such a manner as to keep people from wanting to hurt that area in the first place.

  It was a good plan, which hadn’t worked in this case.

  Phillip doubled over in pain and dropped to his knees.

  Honor stepped back and said, “That was for my brother.”

  Phillip knew Honor’s situation, including the fact that her older brother, barely more than a boy himself, was raising her. Hearing her mention him triggered the memory of how he and Martin had taken care of Tyler and Gary’s problem involving a child.

  “Where is your brother?” Phillip asked. “I’d like to talk to him.”

  “You don’t even know?” she shouted. “That’s how little you lot care? You don’t even bother to find out which of us you’ve hurt?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me! You wizards play your silly tricks and lord your power over the rest of us, and when we get hurt, you can’t bother yourself to find out who we even are. You just hit us with a sleep spell so we won’t complain and go on about your merry way!”

  Phillip searched his memory like a criminal tossing a room in an old detective movie, eventually coming up with the name, “Sonny.” He looked at Honor. Hearing her brother’s name had silenced her for the moment. Phillip glanced around and saw that people had started filtering out of the tavern, and the various other huts and hovels that lined the streets, drawn out by the sounds of a fight, the promise of possible magic, and the absence of Kludge riding a dragon.

  “Your brother’s name is Sonny, right?” Phillip asked. “Was he hurt in the dragon attack? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Yes,” Honor shrieked. “That’s what I’m saying! Your dragons attacked our town. You tried to keep us from hurting your dragons. Sonny got hurt. You put him under some sort of evil sleeping spell and left without even saying you were sorry!”

  “He’s not under an evil sleeping spell.”

  “Then why won’t he wake up?”

  “Because of magic,” Phillip said, wincing at how bad it sounded, even to him. “Okay, it’s a spell, but it isn’t evil. It’s just to give him time to rest and recuperate from his wounds. It’s meant to assist people who are hurt.”

  “People you hurt!”

  “We didn’t hurt your brother,” Phillip said, trying out his being firm voice. “Some of the people were injured running from the dragons and some were injured fighting the dragons, but nobody was attacked by a wizard.”

  Honor, being a child, had the innate ability to tell when an adult was simply trying out their being firm voice, and as such, pressed her attack. “And I know that you wizards were keeping the dragons like livestock. I saw the pen you kept them in. You trained them to attack. You might have even created them.”

  Phillip realized instantly that everything Honor had said was true. He also recognized that admitting any part of it would be disastrous. He had no children, so he didn’t feel comfortable just deliberately lying to a child. He looked around to the people watching, people he considered friends and neighbors. He shrugged and made a fac
ial expression that said, Kids—am I right?

  More than one of the spectators replied with an expression that seemed to say, The kid’s got a point.

  * * *

  In the air high above Leadchurch, seven wizards did their best to confuse five men riding on three dragons.

  Gripper and Heel-Kick were chasing Brit to pelt her with rocks, when suddenly there were many of her, all identical, all laughing at them. Heel-Kick wound up to throw a rock and froze, suddenly seized with a crippling case of option paralysis.

  “Oh no,” Heel-Kick shouted. “Oh no no no!”

  “Throw,” Gripper shouted into the wind.

  “There’s too many of her,” Heel-Kick cried.

  Gripper shouted, “That’ll just make her easier to hit!”

  Gripper did his best to maneuver the dragon through the Brit cloud, but he had difficulties because the Brits kept moving.

  When he finally managed to find his way to clear sky, he immediately had to make a tight turn that devolved into a dive in order to avoid hitting another dragon. He feared it was Kludge, but as the dragon gave chase, Heel-Kick said, “Oh God! There’s nobody riding it!”

  Gripper worried that one of the gang members had fallen from their dragon. He couldn’t help imagining their terror at falling, and only snapped back to reality when a voice called out, “Hey, you two, up there on the dragon I’m chasing. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Land and get off of the dragon now, before things get ugly.”

  Gripper asked, “Who said that?”

  Heel-Kick answered, “The dragon! The dragon chasing us said it!”

  Elsewhere, Kludge fended off an attack from Gwen’s clothing. He hadn’t even been chasing her. She flew down in front of his dragon, then her robe grew to fill his field of vision, slapping him lightly in the face as it rippled in the wind.