"Be a good dragon and see if you can find where the marshmallows are tucked away will you? And don't be stingy with them when you do."
Entering the kitchen he set the kettle to boil, and after spooning the dark charcoal into the mugs, he set about looking for the hidden treats. By the time the kettle started to whistle furiously, he still hadn't found them, having looked in all the cupboards and shelves, under the sink, rifled through the pile of dish cloths... NOTHING! Not wanting to disappoint the old dragon, particularly in light of the fact that he was here for his help, he poured the hot water on top of the tiny dark lumps of charcoal and tried to imagine just where Tank had hidden them. As he inhaled the steam from the drinks... it came to him. His friend would almost certainly play the old shopkeeper at his own cunning game. But how exactly? That was the question. Opening the massive cupboard under the sink again, a small bottle of bright pink washing up liquid at the front caught Peter's attention, but he couldn't see what that would have to do with the marshmallows. It looked as though the bright pink liquid was regularly refilled from a massive container sitting behind it, showing the same liquid, but not nearly full up.
'I wonder,' he thought, shuffling the huge container out and examining it closely. It felt the right weight, and the liquid inside sloshed about, just as it should. But there was something odd about it. Holding it in both hands, he turned it round and examined the worn label on the back. On doing so, he felt a little groove running underneath. Pressing lightly with his fingernail, he moved along the groove. A tiny 'POP' preceded a plastic door clicking open. Peeking inside to find what looked like the world's supply of marshmallows, he laughed out loud at his friend's ingenuity. Tank had done to Gee Tee, what the old shopkeeper had done to him with the Peruvian mantra ink. Scooping out a handful, he tossed them into the master mantra maker's drink, put the secret container back and headed across the shop floor and into the workshop.
Lounging back in one of the oversized chairs, Gee Tee held his bizarre glasses in one hand as he rubbed his eyes with the other. Noticing the offered drink, he flipped his glasses back on his nose and grabbed the mug for all he was worth.
"Ahhh... you found them," he said with delight, spotting the pink and white treats bobbing up and down like abandoned rubber rings in a swimming pool.
Sitting down opposite the shopkeeper, Peter looked more than a little ridiculous in the oversized chair, sipping on his drink. After a few moments of blissful silence, Gee Tee spoke up.
"What's so important that my apprentice... ahem... I mean my associate... has to be out of the way?"
Swallowing hard, Peter wondered what to say. Now that he was here, things didn't seem quite so straight forward or easy. Knowing that he had nowhere else to go other than here, he hoped the shopkeeper would be able to help him out.
"It's about Richie."
Gee Tee nodded.
"I assumed as much."
"It's all so confusing," he declared, putting his drink on the desk, before holding his head in his hands.
"I understand little one, I really do. Tank feels exactly as you do, but there's nothing you can do to change the facts of what's happened. And rightly or wrongly, the council will never be dissuaded from wiping her memory and integrating her back fully into the human world. It pains me to say it, but as a dragon, she's lost. There simply isn't anything that can be done. Nothing at all."
It wasn't in his nature to get angry, but of late he'd found a whole lot of rage bubbling away inside him. Using a series of mental exercises he'd tried to control it, tried to rationalise it, but it was hard and it didn't always work. Right at this very instant... it was there, shifting around inside him, somewhere deep down past his stomach. Having heard the words and understood the meaning, he knew the old shopkeeper was only telling the truth. But he couldn't lose his friend, not again, not like this. It was bad enough when he'd thought that she was dead, but this... this was almost worse. To have her existence torn away through no fault of her own, just because the council refused to believe that she could be trusted in the new and very permanent form she found herself in, almost defied belief. So he'd decided he would stop at nothing to prevent it. As well, this new turn of events put a whole new spin on things, hence the reason he was here.
"I understand what you're saying," he said facing the old dragon across the room from him, "but I refuse to believe that nothing can be done. But before we talk anymore about that, there's something else you need to know."
"Go on," urged the master mantra maker.
"You know all about Tim?" he asked.
"Of course. Your young lady friend's human lover, who, thanks to the side effects of the alea has now transformed into not just any dragon, but the 'white dragon' who will apparently save us all."
Peter was curious.
"You say that almost as if you don't believe it."
"Call me an old cynic if you like, but in my experience things like this are never quite what they seem. It's almost as if it's a little TOO easy."
Peter chuckled.
"And just why would that be funny?" asked the shopkeeper, miffed.
"Ohhh... I'm not mocking you," stammered Peter, desperate not to offend his host. "Quite the opposite in fact. It's just that what you've just said, and what I have to tell you next, will prove you're one of the wisest dragons on the planet."
Now it was the master mantra maker's turn to let out a little chuckle. His was a lot louder though, and accompanied by tiny spurts of flame licking from his nostrils and around the side of his jaw.
"Well... I do like to think of myself in that role. But enough of the buttering up. Get on with it little one, I'm keen to know."
Staring deep down into the still swirling, dark ocean of charcoal in his mug, he composed his thoughts.
"A few days ago I went to Richie's flat to pick her up. While we were waiting, she wandered around getting dressed. Anyhow, during all of this, I got to see her back. As I'm sure you're aware, it was damaged very badly in the explosion at the clubhouse. Having done a great job in healing her injuries, the doctors have always maintained there would be a large amount of scar tissue there, and on her upper arms, that nothing could be done about. Anyway, it's the first time I've seen it. And it wasn't very pleasant, I can assure you. But that wasn't the surprising thing.
Taking an enormous mouthful of his drink, he tried to overcome just how uncomfortable he was about what he had to say next.
"Well?" encouraged the master mantra maker.
"The scarring, it had a pattern, well... more of an image actually."
Looking up from his drink, straight into the old dragon's eyes, he came out with it.
"It was a dragon. An image of a dragon on her pale white back. A white dragon!"
Gee Tee, who'd been creeping ever forward in his chair, sat back and let out a sigh.
"So what do you make of all this, little one?"
Anger rolling through every atom, it spread to his arms and legs now, close to consuming him.
"Don't you see...? They've got it all wrong. Everything else fits, but it's not Tim that's the white dragon from the prophecy, it's Richie!"
"I know what I said before, but this all sounds more than a little preposterous, don't you think?" replied the old dragon softly, trying not to hurt his guest's feelings.
"I was there, I saw it. I swear to you what happened is true."
"I don't doubt what you believe, little one. Truly I don't. But it's just possible your eyes were playing tricks on you, your imagination running away, or it was a trick of the light. These are all more likely explanations."