Golden dust stuck to Peter's face like rusk on a baby's cheek, his eyes started to water and he felt as though he was going to sneeze. A short cough brought the sneeze under control. As it did so, a mysterious smell assaulted his olfactory sense, something he couldn't make head nor tail of. After a few seconds, however, the smell, or smells as he'd now come to realise, had started to separate out, inspiring a series of different images to course through his brain. Horses became a theme, lots of horses being... hmmm... he wasn't sure. Next came a perfect picture of the biggest and hottest roaring fire in the world. Shivers of excitement rippled up his body at the thought of the enticing heat. As the roaring fire faded just a little, he could just make out hot metal being worked by two very large, very strong, sweaty men. It was a... blacksmiths from a long time ago, he realised, trying hard to understand what an earth was going on. Abruptly there was a tiny pop from the open book still in his hands, and a much smaller shower of golden dust blew up into the air, like a miniature fireworks display, bursting open at its apex to form the phrase 'Industries of Victorian Bicester'. Seeming to have some sense of what was going on now, he picked some pages of the book at random, only to have the same thing happen again and again, smells from many different eras, from the medieval and dark ages through to Tudor, Georgian and Victorian times. It was, he thought... absolutely brilliant! Books that told their story by... smell!
Slipping 'Ahhhhh Bicester!!!' back into its rightful place on the shelf, his gaze wandered along the rest of the section, intrigued to see what else existed in this truly remarkable genre. Meanwhile the king dabbed his cheeks with a multicoloured handkerchief that he'd pulled from the top pocket of his shirt, tears of laughter racing down his face, watching Peter realise what was going on. Deliberately hanging back a little on purpose, knowing that it might have some sort of amusing twist, Peter's expression had caused him to laugh more than he had in ages. So bad were the tears, that the handkerchief had almost reached saturation point, with the king having to turn away for fear of flooding the entire library floor. To his credit, Peter had skipped over a few dubious volumes as he worked his way down the shelf. Among the titles he'd avoided pulling out were 'Tang with a Bang', 'Stink in Pink', 'Seek the Reek', 'Stench of a Wench' and 'The Pong Song of Hong Kong'. His eyes bulged at the one he really liked the look of: 'The Scent of a Dragon'. However, they were mysteriously drawn to the book beside it, 'Bums that Hum'. Looking carefully from side to side, and feeling more guilty than a child waiting outside the headmaster's office, his tiny human shaped fingers darted forward and with amazing precision and grace, gently, but very quickly, pulled the book out into his, by now, very sweaty hands. Carefully, he turned the age old leather covered book over to look at the back. Unusually, there was an inscription written in gold leaf.
'Twenty iconic dragons of the age leave their buttock burping aromas for future generations.'
"A must have, must smell, for the serious collector." Socrates.
"The rich smell of success, from the bottom to the very top." Plato.
"A book not to be sniffed at." Aristotle.
Peter's tears splashed onto the ornate marble floor, in much the same way as the king's own had only a short time ago. Gently, he placed the book back, knowing that opening it up would only create more hilarity and he was just too sensible for that, fully aware he'd seen more than enough.
'What a wonderful place,' he thought, moving away from the shelf, turning into the next aisle, all the time looking for more amazing books, aware of the king's footsteps echoing quietly behind him.
Abruptly, he heard Gee Tee scream excitedly. A cross between a roar, a snort and a squawk, the noise was quickly followed by the sound of running feet. Making a quick note of where he'd got to, Peter took off in the wake of the king, both of them heading for the old shopkeeper.
When he finally arrived a few minutes later, after having made two wrong turnings, Gee Tee stood in the middle of an aisle, brandishing a thick scroll, an expression of pure wonder on his face, watched by Tank and the king. Wondering how the king had beaten him, Peter's thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the old shopkeeper spoke up.
"Come quickly child, I've found it, I've found it," he squealed in delight.
"What have you found?" replied Peter, intrigued.
"We don't know yet," observed the king, frustrated.
Tank took hold of the master mantra maker's wings in an effort to calm him down, but he wasn't having any of it and shook him off instantly, no mean feat for someone that old, not considering Tank's impressive strength, whatever form he was in.
"What is it you've found?" demanded the king.
Gee Tee took deep, measured breaths, trying hard to calm himself.
"I've found something that I've been searching for, for over three centuries."
Peter and Tank were visibly shaken, the king... not so much.
'What on earth has he been looking for that has taken that amount of time to find?' wondered Peter to himself.
"And?" stated the king, losing more patience with every second that passed.
"I've found the mantra instructions for creating 'Elixir of fundo vita,' he said excitedly.
"Ahhh," sighed the king, nodding his head in understanding.
Meanwhile Peter was busy doing the translation in his mind, knowing the others were already well ahead of him. Languages were definitely his weakest link. Tank turned to his friend, recognised the trouble he was having and whispered,
"Elixir of extended life."
Peter mouthed his friend a silent, "Thank you."
Tank, Peter and the king all looked at Gee Tee, waiting for what he had to say next.
"Don't you know what this is?" uttered the old shopkeeper. Tank and Peter of course weren't sure, but could have taken a pretty good guess given its name. On the other hand, the king knew everything about everything in the library. It was part of his remit.
"Do I have to spell it out to you? barked the increasingly frustrated shopkeeper. "The clue's in the title."
"I know exactly what it is, and more importantly, what it's supposed to do," announced the king.
"Why didn't you tell me it was here?" demanded Gee Tee angrily. "You knew an awful long time ago that I was looking for it."
Both Peter and Tank could feel the heat rising throughout their bodies, Peter particularly. The very last thing he would have wanted was for the king and Gee Tee to have a full scale row, here inside his private chambers.
'This is supposed to be my day,' he thought, realising just a little too late how selfish it sounded, even inside his head.
"I should have realised when you shot off like a jet plane from a carrier, exactly what you were looking for. I'm so very sorry."
"Why exactly are you sorry?" asked Gee Tee, folding the scroll up inside his right wing, a suspicious look etched across his scaly face.
"Because I'm afraid you can't have it," uttered the king, apologetically.
"You owe me!" screamed the old shopkeeper, flame crackling from either side of his jaw as he did so.
"I know," whispered the king.
"I've helped you dozens of times, probably even saved your life. You wouldn't be here if not for me."
"I know," repeated the king softly.
Looking on, Peter and Tank felt shell shocked, not knowing what to do or say. Clearly this was something between the two dragons, something from the past, and something everyone else was better keeping out of.
"Why?" asked Gee Tee, gloomily.
"It's not mine to give you. If it was, you'd have it in an instant."