Peter and Tank both understood his meaning. It brought home to Tank just how much danger he'd been in over the last few hours. Numerous times he'd felt the cold chill of an ice bolt skimming within inches of a limb or two. Momentarily, his large, powerful legs wobbled a little at the thought of what could have happened.
"Now," whispered Flash, finally seeing what he needed on a belt strapped around Tank's waist. "I need that mantra scalpel Tank, please, and Peter, I need your mobile phone."
Tank drew out the sharp blade that was used to repair and reconfigure broken mantras. The tip had a brilliant green glow to it. Peter handed over his mobile phone. Flash took the touch screen phone and held it up in the air so that a tiny part of it poked around the end of the bookcase. Glancing into the reflection on the screen, Flash gauged exactly where the deadly ice salamander was. After a few moments, he pulled the phone back and crouched down with his friends.
"Okay, get as near as you can on the southern side, nearest to the workshop. I'll approach from the north and attempt to lead her out into the depths of the shop that way. When you get the mantra... don't hang about. I'm guessing she's going to be rather mad at me, and I'm not going to have very long. Good luck!"
With that, Flash turned and headed back up the aisle, in the direction of the front door. Meanwhile, Peter had the startled expression of a bunny caught in the headlights of an onrushing car.
"Come on Pete," whispered Tank, slapping his friend on the back. "What could possibly go wrong?"
Ducking down, Tank and Peter shuffled silently along the exposed cross section of the aisle on all fours. Reaching the welcome cover of the bookcases on the other side, both stood up, relieved that no ice bolts had been fired in their direction. Before Tank could go any further, Peter put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
"Do you think he's going to be alright?"
"He'll be fine," replied Tank quietly. "Besides, he's got more experience at this stuff than we'll ever have."
"I know," mouthed Peter. "But he's not done anything like this, since... you know... since he got stuck in human form."
"He'll be fine Pete. If we work as a team, this will all be over shortly. That's the key to it all... combining our strengths and working together. You should know that better than most."
Momentarily Peter's mind flashed back to the hockey, and as it did so, a dreamy smile crept across his face. The mere thought of working as a team sent goose bumps up his arms, at the same time filling him with confidence. Normal service resumed, the two friends made their way past the bookcases, aiming to get as close as possible to the front counter without being spotted by the ice salamander queen.
Meanwhile, Flash had been crawling commando style along the grubby stone floor, with only Peter's phone and Tank's mantra blade for company, knowing he was uncomfortably close to the ice salamander queen's position, the humming coming from only a few feet away, the smell of her icy cold breath being expelled every few seconds assaulting his nose. Lying on his side, snuggled up to one of the small, half yard bookcases, he very patiently and very quietly sat up. Slowly, he raised Peter's phone above the parapet, eyes glued firmly to the reflection on the screen. Nearly frozen with fear at the sight that greeted him, whipping the phone back down, his hands and fingers started shaking with fright as he realised the ice salamander queen was considerably bigger than he'd first thought. Not only that, but she looked... tough, strong... scary even. Unable to remember a time when he'd felt so afraid, even his recent adventures in Antarctica hadn't elicited the same terror that he was experiencing right at this very moment. Quietly, he took a few deep breaths to calm himself, knowing that, despite the fear, the butterflies zipping around in his stomach, the shakiness of his legs, he was going to do what was necessary, because... because he wasn't going to let his friends down. Peter, Tank... Gee Tee. Yes, even the old shopkeeper, he regarded as his friend. Now that he thought about it, he realised that he'd never really had any friends. Ohhh, he'd thought he had... in the Crimson Guards, but looking back on it now, he realised they were only really colleagues, most only associating themselves with him because of his talent and reputation, and because he was well thought of by the dragons in charge.
Exhaling the last deep breath, he knew now was the time to act. Using the silent touch screen on Peter's phone, he quickly set the alarm to go off after one minute, while counting down the remaining time in his head. On reaching ten seconds, Flash slid the phone along the floor of the aisle, its dark black shell contrasting harshly with the light coloured floor as it silently spun out of sight. Flash tensed himself, ready to act, the mantra blade gripped firmly in his right hand. Immediately a loud, telephone style shrill emanated from the direction he'd flung the phone in only moments earlier. Counting to two, he hoped that the deadly head part of the ice salamander had fallen for the distraction and gone to investigate. As his mouth finished whispering the word, "Two," in a fluid motion, he leapt over the small bookcase he'd been hiding behind and headed at speed towards the front desk, knowing as he leapt that if he'd miscalculated and the salamander hadn't moved from its position, then he was almost certainly dead. It wasn't the first time he'd found himself in this kind of situation, but it had been a little while and he'd forgotten the unmistakable thrill that ran through him at times like this. Counteracting this, somewhere at the back of his mind, a little voice gently whispered,
"One day you're going to do this and it will go horribly wrong... and you'll die."
But not today, at least... not yet. The ice salamander had indeed gone to investigate the shrill noise of the phone, well, the front half of it had anyway with the remaining half of the salamander curled tightly around itself atop the front desk, wisps of cold infusing the air all around it. No time to lose, Flash pulled back his right arm and, with all his might, buried the mantra blade into the nearest part of the ice salamander's tail. An ungodly screech echoed from the direction of the phone, as the huge tail started to jump and flail about. Suddenly the top half of the salamander whipped round the corner of a giant bookcase, its dull white eyes filled with hatred, anger and... revenge. Knowing he'd outstayed his welcome, Flash was already moving in the opposite direction to where he hoped Tank and Peter were hidden, desperately trying to find some sort of cover from what he knew would be an imminent attack. As he hurdled an untidy pile of tomes, the sound of multiple projectiles cutting through the air and heading in his direction assaulted his very sensitive ears. Maybe the little voice in his head had been right after all.
Tank and Peter were as close as they dared get when the phone's alarm had gone off. Peter's reaction had been to try and look over the top of the counter behind which they were hidden. Tank had known better and had used one of his giant arms to anchor Peter to the floor, having a fair idea of what was coming next, and wasn't surprised when the hideous screech echoed around the shop. Waiting for a split second after the haunting sound, Gee Tee's young partner popped his head over the parapet of the counter to see the ice salamander, only a few yards away, sitting up like a cobra, firing a seemingly endless bout of ice bolts, then slithering off in the opposite direction after Flash, its long tail uncurling from the top of the counter, freezing cold vapour evaporating into the air all around it. As the last of the tail slithered off in chase of its body, Tank spotted what he was looking for... the scroll with the mantra on it. Ordering Peter to keep an eye out, Tank dashed over to the counter and grabbed the scroll, causing waves of pain to shoot through his fingers and up his arm, forcing him to drop the scroll. Shaking his hand to try and get rid of the pain, Tank examined the scroll closely. An icy blue grain had formed on the parchment, accompanied by a similarly icy blue mist, something he was quite sure hadn't been there originally. This, he thought, was far from good. With the crashing of bookcases and the sound of books and ice bolts flying indiscriminately somewhere off in another part of the shop, Tank knew he had to act.