Everyone in the cramped room stood still. It was as tense as any standoff could get, with the guards ready to pounce, just waiting for the order. With the priest considering his words, Peter hoped he'd done enough. Richie just stared at him, tears streaming in and out of the freckles on her cheeks.
Breaking the silence, the tiny "tick tock" of the lacrosse themed clock on the wall echoed eerily around the room. Time seemed eternal as Richie's tears dropped from her face and, in perfect detail, plummeted onto the soft carpet.
It was then that the priest made up his mind.
"You can stay," he declared, "against my better judgement. But the first sign of trouble and you won't know what's hit you. I'll make sure you never find your sorry way above ground again! Do you understand?"
Nodding, he just about managed to squeak an, "I do."
As the guards stepped back, the priest stepped forward, something of an achievement in the confined space of Richie's flat.
"Do you understand the process and what will happen, young lady?"
Richie nodded in much the same way her friend just had.
"I do."
With more compassion than Peter would have given him credit for, particularly given how he looked, the priest whispered,
"I am truly sorry about this, and if there were any other options then I would gladly have tried to explore them. What we are about to do gives me no pleasure at all. But the council have ruled and we must all follow their guidance."
Richie just nodded.
Turning towards Peter, the priest started to explain.
"Since you're staying, you can help with an important part of the ceremony. Your friend here must be standing for the mantra to take effect, but as soon as it does, she will lose consciousness and collapse. You, if you will, may stand behind her and catch her as she falls. Then you may lift her up and place her on the sofa. Are you okay with that?"
Right down to the very last detail, Peter already knew what was going to happen. Not only had he done all the research he could, but he'd coaxed the old shopkeeper into telling him every aspect of the process. Gee Tee had come up trumps and described everything in glowing detail, right down to the exact words and their inflections, the fact that Richie would have to stand throughout, and also that she would have to keep her hands placed together behind her back. The master mantra maker had known it all and had willingly passed it all on to Peter, who'd got exactly what he wanted and now, more importantly... was exactly where he wanted and needed to be.
"Thank you," he said. "I'm most grateful. I just want to make sure she's alright. She means so much to me."
"I understand," replied the priest gently. "Just so that you know, once you've placed her, unconscious, on the sofa, we will all be leaving and YOU will not be able to return for the authorised number of days. There will be dragons watching this flat."
"I know," he croaked, more emotional than he'd thought he would be. "And that's fine."
"Good, then let's start," announced the priest, proceeding to move things around in the flat so that there was as much space as possible, with the sofa tucked against the back wall, furthest from the door. Standing Richie in the centre of the room, with Peter directly behind her and the sofa directly behind him, the priest prompted the young lacrosse playing dragon to place her hands together behind her back. At this point, Peter knew it was about to start. There were so many things he wanted to say, so much so that even if he'd had days to spill it all out, there still wouldn't have been enough time. So, knowing that it wasn't over despite the council, despite the priest, despite... EVERYTHING, he leaned forward until his chin rested on her shoulder, and whispered in her ear,
"Everything will be alright... TRUST ME!"
And with that... IT STARTED!
It was complicated. According to the old shopkeeper's description, in all it would take close to an hour and would require an incredible amount of concentration, effort, focus and power. He knew the priest must be an amazing dragon to be able to carry out what he considered to be a heinous task and also knew he'd only get one chance at what he had planned, and one chance only. So... he stood and waited. And waited. Standing behind his friend, within touching distance, a blank, accepting look on his face, he waited for the split second that would be his one and only opportunity.
Continuing to chant, the priest belted out the mantra which was in Messapian, an ancient Indo-European language originating in South East Italy and thought to have died out sometime after the 1st century BC. It was, he supposed, a good job that Gee Tee had told him what language the mantra was going to be in. Although he was fluent in many traditional tongues, most of the ancient ones were well beyond his ability to pick up. Like humans, some dragons are gifted when it comes to languages, some... not so much. Most certainly he fell into the latter category. But the old shopkeeper had run through it with him, then translated it, and then... made him memorise the latter part, the part in which he would be required to act, so much so that he could now have taken over from the priest.
Picturing the words in his head, he knew the moment was fast approaching. From his peripheral vision whilst staring ahead, he could see that the guards, who at first had been incredibly suspicious of his motives, had now relaxed just a fraction. Convinced that would be enough, his biggest worry was that one of the guards would have stood off to one side, making what he had to do very difficult, maybe not impossible, but very difficult. Because of the size and shape of the room, and with the sofa behind him, the guards had little choice but to stand by the door, behind and to either side of the priest. As his brain assessed the situation, the moment approached. Calming his mind, making sure to keep his expression fixed, as it had been throughout the whole process, he delicately slipped off the innocuous looking, matt grey, metal ring he'd been wearing on his right middle finger, and in one fluid motion slipped it over the middle finger of Richie's left hand. Instantly it constricted, shrinking to fit her delicate, pale finger perfectly. This was the part he'd worried about, and had been through a couple of sleepless nights thinking that Richie herself might give the game away at this point. During one of his dreams she'd stopped the whole process and he'd subsequently been dragged off by the guards, with the ceremony starting again from scratch. Holding his breath, Richie's hand tensed for the briefest moment, but quickly relaxed again. Much to his relief, the priest and the guards hadn't registered that anything untoward had happened. Casually, he held down the slightly raised triangle on the ring, continuing for as long as he dared, all the time looking forwards over Richie's shoulder. After a count of eight, he just about caught sight of a green flicker coming from around her hands. Moving his own hands away from the ring, he listened as the priest continued. Standing there, knowing that it wouldn't be long before the mantra finished, not being able to show any outward sign that he knew... his mind raced. Would it work like the old dragon had said? Would the priest come to realise what had happened? How would Richie react to what he'd done? Just maybe she'd be better off not knowing. Time and time again he'd debated this question, but the more he thought about it, the more he thought she'd want to know. As well, he deemed that he knew her better than any other dragon, and although he couldn't tell her what he had planned, he was certain she would approve.
Less than a minute after the ring had given off its green glow, the colour along the row of glowing triangles changed to blue. Although still looking forward, he was aware of what had happened.