Tamar looked both ways down the passage. ‘Which way do we go?’ she asked without much hope.
‘Eugene shook his head. ‘No idea,’ he admitted. ‘Sorry, I’ve never been out of the library, I got this job …’
‘On your own?’
‘Yes, did I mention that before?’
‘Once or twice.’
‘Why don’t you come with us?’ said Cindy (of all people.)
‘What, why?’
‘Well, aren’t you – lonely? You said you’d never been out of here.’
Eugene thought about this. ‘Well, I suppose, but who’s going to …’
‘Who cares?’ said Cindy. ‘Come with us – it’ll be fine.’ She smiled at him.
‘Er,’ Eugene blushed under his fur and tugged self-consciously at his collar. He stared at his feet. ‘Y – You really want me to come?’
‘I never say anything I don’t mean.’ She leaned in toward Tamar. ‘He might come in handy,’ she hissed. ‘After all like you said, he can be anything.’
Tamar nodded. ‘Good idea.’
Eugene was watching his furry feet as he twisted them around each other.
Cindy brought her face close to his and batted her eyelashes in a well-practised manner. ‘Well?’ she said.
Eugene gulped. ‘Okay, yes!’ he said decisively. ‘I’ll come, I hate this job anyway; my brother got it for me.’
* * *
‘One more try,’ thought Denny, ‘and then I’m giving up.’
He swung down from the cliff face for the third time. The roc was waiting for him; she flapped her massive wings in fury and squawked at him; she was creating quite a dust storm.
Denny sighed. ‘Okay, Big-Bird, bring it on.’ He lifted into the air, as the roc rose up after him; he dived, grabbed the egg and leapt out of the nest. He did not get very far; she had his ankle in her beak, and it was so hard to concentrate through the pain.
‘Why didn’t I just wait and let Tamar do this?’ he thought.
He had decided to gather the ingredients for the summoning of Ran-Kur to save time when they got back. If they got back, but he was not letting himself think about that.
Back to the current problem, the roc had a pretty firm grip on his ankle, and he did not really blame her, he did have her egg, and he was in danger of dropping it.
He thought for a second, then he dropped it. The roc let go of him immediately and soared after it, but Denny was quicker, he grabbed the egg, and the roc went spinning off into space on the back of a small whirlwind.
Phew, the phoenix feather had been easy compared to that.
He checked his list and ticked off – lavender, phoenix feather, bay leaf, fairy dust? And now the roc’s egg. Almost done, good.
He was, of course, just trying to keep busy, in between patrolling the streets and writing lugubrious songs. The flat was a disaster area, but it never occurred to him to tidy up or to mend the broken windows and front door. When the landlord had come round after complaints from Mr. Whinger and other residents about the noise – and the smell, he had turned him into a statue, which was now festooned with dirty socks. Denny found this highly amusing. In fact this trick was handy on the streets, the city was now dotted with new “statues” all sporting fangs and surprised expressions.
He was even going into work occasionally (Bo had apparently not noticed the funny weather and had continued to open; the lack of customers was no change). Anything to fill the empty hours. He was avoiding going to sleep; his dreams lately had been disturbing, mostly involving the men he had killed. He even saw their faces when he was awake sometimes, which was weird, since he had not seen their faces at the time, at least he did not think he had. He was not too sure of anything anymore .
~ Chapter Twenty Five ~
They went left and trusted to providence. Eugene had changed, at Cindy’s suggestion. She thought that he might need longer legs to keep up. He took the point and was now the handsome, muscular man that she had admired, which, of course, was exactly what she had had in mind.
To Stiles, he now looked disturbingly like Finchley, and he suspected that Eugene was well aware of this. Tamar was just glad that he did not look like Denny; she was missing him enough as it was.
Eventually they came to a fork in the road, so to speak. This time they decided to go right, so as to avoid potentially going in a circle. Although, as Tamar pointed out, they would probably end up where they were supposed to anyway sooner or later, no matter which way they went; there was a kind of inevitability about this quest that was growing on them. At the end of this passageway was a door. The gargoyle above the door was extremely unhelpful. ‘Dunno.’ Was his uniform answer to every inquiry, even when Tamar threatened to smash him. Still, he probably did not count as a guardian, and was obviously mentally challenged. They went through the door. The blast of heat that met them almost convinced them to turn back. Below them was a river of molten lava and above them were sheer slopes running to a point; they were standing on a narrow ledge looking up at a small circle of sky. They were in a volcano.
‘Okay, bad idea,’ said Stiles, let’s go back.’
They turned back, but the door was gone.
‘Of course it is,’ sighed Tamar.
Cindy was tugging her arm. ‘What are those?’ She pointed upwards.’
Tamar squinted. ‘Birds?’
‘Damn big birds,’ said Stiles, doubtfully.
Whatever they were, there were a lot of them, circling above them, apparently enjoying the heat. Some were evidently flying upside down – basking.
‘Salamander dragons,’ said Eugene, dully. ‘Babies.’
‘Babies?’ said Tamar. ‘So, where’s mummy?’
‘What the hell are Salamander Dragons?’ said Stiles.
‘Rare,’ said Eugene, laconically.
‘Some sort of cross-breed?’ suggested Cindy.
‘Who cares?’ said Tamar. ‘How do we get out of here? Can you see an exit?’
‘Up there,’ said Cindy, unhelpfully.
‘Eugene?’
‘On the other side.’ He pointed; there was indeed an opening on the other side of the cone. The question was how to get there.
The ledge did not run all the way around, and there was a total lack of a helpful bridge. Tamar tried to manifest one, but it crumbled immediately.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Geology’s not my speciality. I don’t know what to make it of.’
‘Can’t you teleport us across?’ asked Stiles.
‘Oh I never thought of that,’ snapped Tamar, acidly.
‘There’s no astral plane in magical places, ‘said Cindy.
‘Fly us then?’ persisted Stiles, ‘we can’t stay here forever.’
This was tried, but they got caught in the up-draught, and nearly choked on the ash and fumes. ‘Sorry,’ gasped Stiles, wiping his streaming eyes.
‘What are we going to do?’ panicked Cindy.
‘How vicious are those things?’ Tamar asked Eugene.
‘Adults are extremely dangerous, according to research,’ he said. ‘But not the babies, don’t worry about them, see they’re ignoring us.’
Tamar did a remarkable imitation of the cry of the baby salamander dragons. They turned startled and swooped en mass down toward them.
As they came closer, they could see that the scales on the dragons were smooth, like snakeskin and a bright yellow colour with red zigzag stripes along the back. And their eyes were like shiny rubies. They were slender for dragons, but had the traditional bat-like wings, except that they were bright yellow and translucent. They hovered curiously around the strangers in their midst. One of them let out a tiny jet of flame, which rolled along its flickering tongue.
‘What the hell did you do that for?’ exploded Stiles. ‘This is no time for …’ He stopped in amazement as she reached out a hand to stroke the muzzle of the nearest one. ‘Hi – hi there,’ she was saying softly. ‘Good boy, what a good boy.’
‘My God!’ he th
ought, ‘she’s not afraid of anything. What a woman.’
He was further stupefied when she clambered onto the back of the tamed dragon.
She turned and grinned wickedly. ‘Last call for the dragon train, leaving now.’
The other dragons were hovering in imitation as if waiting for the others to mount them. Stiles was the first to risk it. ‘Surprisingly comfortable,’ he managed in a strangled voice. ‘Come on guys,’ he added. ‘It’s this or nothing.’
Cindy hesitated. ‘How do we direct them?’
Eugene turned into a small version of the dragon. ‘They’ll follow me,’ he said.
‘Can’t I ride on you?’ asked Cindy. ‘I mean – I didn’t mean.’ She blushed as the others laughed.
‘Um, no offence, but this is just an outward form; I don’t have their strength; otherwise I could have carried you all as an adult dragon.’
‘Okay.’ Cindy took courage from the fact that Tamar and Stiles were still alive, and clambered awkwardly on to the back of the smallest one. They swooped away after Eugene.
Tamar and Stiles were exhilarated, but Cindy looked distinctly green as the dragons landed on the ledge on the other side.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Eugene, looking concerned.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she replied. ‘Just get me down before I ruin the upholstery.’
‘Be careful,’ Eugene warned. ‘Mummy’s probably in there.’ He indicated the passage.
Cindy groaned. ‘I shouldn’t have come,’ she said. ‘How bad could it have been to stay behind with Denny?’
Tamar snapped her head round. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she barked.
‘Nothing,’ said Cindy, hastily. ‘I just meant with the darkness and the vampires and everything.’
Tamar narrowed her eyes, but let it drop.
The cave walls glowed red, with flickering shadows from the fires below.
“Mummy” was red, with yellow stripes and much, much, much bigger than the babies. Curled up in her nest, she looked like a pile of double-decker buses. She was snoring gently.
‘I thought dragons slept on a pile of treasure?’ hissed Stiles.
‘Why on earth would they do that?’ Eugene whispered back. ‘How uncomfortable. And why would dragons have treasure, anyway?’
‘I suppose,’ admitted Stiles.
Tamar and Cindy were trying not to giggle.
‘If they did have treasure,’ continued Eugene, not a man to let things drop. ‘They’d probably keep it in a vault, like anybody else.’
Tamar suppressed a snort. ‘Shhh you two, is this relevant?’
‘Mummy’ opened an eye; it was yellow and gleamed in the semi-darkness like a flame. Then with a snort, she closed her eye again.
‘How do we get past her?’ asked Tamar.
‘Who says we do?’ said Eugene. (What a little ray of sunshine.)
‘I do,’ said Stiles, grimly. ‘We didn’t come all this way, to spend eternity in this blast furnace. I at least want to die before I go to hell.’
‘That can be arranged,’ said “Mummy” from the depths of the cavern. She rose and unfurled her wings casting a humungous shadow on the back of the cavern wall. Even Tamar quailed. ‘Now look what you did,’ she said.
‘Be polite,’ warned Eugene. ‘And don’t lie.’
‘Well, aren’t you going to introduce yourselves?’ asked the dragon. ‘I do so prefer to be on first a name basis with people before I eat them.’
‘How about we don’t tell you our names, and you don’t eat us,’ suggested Tamar.
‘Be polite, remember,’ said Eugene.
‘What for? It’s going to eat us anyway,’ said Tamar.
‘Any of you a virgin?’ asked the dragon wistfully. ‘It’s been so long.’
Eugene shifted uncomfortably.
‘I’ll let the rest of you go,’ continued the dragon, ‘if one of you is a virgin, one virgin is worth ten – um not virgins.’
‘No deal,’ said Tamar, to Eugene’s relief.
‘What do you eat when you can’t get people?’ asked Stiles, curiously.
‘What do you mean? There are always people, in the village below the volcano, but no virgins anymore, a dying breed it would seem.’
‘I’m not surprised, if the reward for virtue in these parts is to be your preferred lunch,’ said Stiles.
‘Hmm,’ said the dragon. ‘I never thought of that.’
‘I always thought that dragons made a deal for virgins, you know one a month, and you won’t terrorise the village.’
‘Now there’s an idea,’ said the dragon. ‘They could breed them up special, make my life easier too.’
‘What are you doing?’ hissed Tamar angrily. ‘Don’t give it ideas like that.’
‘Sorry I was just thinking out loud.’
‘Well don’t! You’re just promoting an outdated myth. Just shut up.’
‘Well. Doesn’t the myth also include a gallant knight who kills the dragon to save the princess or whatever?’
‘What part of “shut up” do you not understand?’
‘Sorry.’
‘Knights?’ snorted the dragon, who had missed nothing of this exchange. ‘They’ve tried that. Baked in their own armour, they taste quite good.’
‘See?’ said Tamar.
‘Nobody can defeat the great Smog,’ said the dragon.
‘Smog?’ said Stiles blankly.
‘That’s me,’ said Smog the dragon. ‘And now, it’s only manners to tell me your names. Don’t worry I’ve decided to let you all go, I like that idea that the skinny one came up with, I’d much prefer a virgin anyway.’
‘I don’t think we can trust you,’ said Tamar. ‘No offence, but you are a dragon.’
‘None taken,’ said Smog. ‘I understand. But it’s a kosher offer.’
‘Sound good to me,’ said Stiles.
‘No,’ said Tamar.
‘Why the hell not?’
‘Because, thanks to you, big mouth, it’s going to use your idea to get virgins, we can’t let it; it’d be our fault.’
‘Well, surely that’s better than what it’s doing now?’
‘Oh you think so? No, we have to stop it. It’s bad enough that it’s killing people, but to expect those people to participate, to just hand people over, that’s sick. And they would, they’d do it because they’d be afraid; they’re just ordinary people, but I’m not ordinary people, and I’m not going to make a deal with a monster.’
Stiles was ashamed of himself. ‘So, we’re back to square one. Our options are either to die, or to kill it,’ he said.
‘That’s how it should be.’
‘Kill me?’ laughed Smog. ‘I’d like to see that.’
‘Tamar?’
She sighed. ‘Stand back,’ she said. ‘I’ll deal with this.’ The next second she was a pillar of flame. Cindy screamed; Stiles gasped. ‘Oh no.’
She emerged from the flames, a little ashy, but substantially intact.
Smog was taken aback. She drew in a breath to try again. Tamar leapt onto her neck and pulled her head back by the ears, the jet of flame hit the roof of the cavern.
Smog shook her head from side to side, trying to shake Tamar off. She threw Tamar up into the air and opened her mouth to catch her as she fell. Cindy hid her face. Eugene had Stiles by the arms to prevent him from running forward and being sautéed for his trouble. ‘We have to help,’ Stiles shrieked, as Tamar was swallowed.
There was a silence.
Smog looked smug.
‘I can’t believe it,’ said Stiles. ‘She’s gone. I thought nothing could kill her. How the hell am I going to explain this to Denny?’
‘I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,’ said Eugene, as Smog drew in a large breath.
But she just flamed the roof of the cavern again, in a sort of triumphant salute. ‘My offer still stands for you three,’ she said. ‘Just walk away.’
‘No,’ said Stiles. ‘Tamar was right, and I wo
n’t let her death be for nothing.’
‘But it won’t make a difference,’ said Cindy. ‘If she couldn’t stop it, what can we do?’
‘Good point,’ said Eugene.
‘And the quest, someone has to go on,’ added Cindy.
But Stiles was adamant, ‘No I’d rather die trying.’
‘That can be arranged,’ said Smog, and drew in a breath again.
Stiles steeled himself. ‘Oh please,’ he said. ‘How far were you going to let us get, before you flamed us anyway? It’s a dragon!’ he added, to the others. ‘You can’t have really trusted it.’
‘Oh just far enough that you’d think you might make it,’ admitted Smog, narrowing her eyes. ‘You first,’ she snorted, drawing in an enormous breath. She stopped short; her stomach gave an enormous rumble.
It was a spectacular explosion; the walls of the volcano shuddered as bits of dragon splattered all over the walls. The baby salamander dragons shrieked. Stiles, Cindy and Eugene fell off their feet. They were lucky – only superficial burns.
From amidst the debris a voice was heard. ‘Little help here?’
They pulled Tamar out from under a pile of dragon guts, still smouldering. From below them the volcano gave an ominous rumble.
‘We have to move,’ Tamar said, somewhat redundantly. ‘It’s going to erupt, I was afraid of that.’
Cindy pulled her scattered wits back together. ‘Over there.’ She pointed to a small pool, mysteriously undisturbed by the tumult. They ran avoiding the rocks bouncing all around them and jumped.
Once under the water, they found that they were rushing upward until they broke the surface. ‘That was refreshing,’ quipped Tamar as they clambered onto the bank.
‘Stiles opened his mouth, then shut it again, too many questions. He settled for throwing his arms around her, Cindy did the same. Eugene shrugged and joined in, and they toppled over in a heaving pile.
‘I guess I didn’t agree with her,’ said Tamar.
‘That was one hell of a case of indigestion,’ agreed Stiles.
Reality Bites Page 16
