"This is great!" she exclaimed.
Chuckling, Peter unwrapped his own sandwiches, made from the same bread but with ham and coleslaw on the inside.
Both sat back, munching away, watching tiny slivers of sunlight cut their way through the leaves of the overhanging plants, listening as occasional watery noises drifted over to them from the pond. It was really quite idyllic, and Richie was having a much better time than she had at first thought she would. They chatted casually about their mornings and their schedules for the rest of the working week.
Twenty minutes later, having finished their informal lunch and packed away everything but the drinks, they both sat back, enjoying the tranquillity of their surroundings.
"This has been great... thank you," she declared, stretching and yawning at the same time.
"You're welcome," he answered politely.
But now it was down to business, the reason he'd so meticulously planned this lunch, although Richie didn't know it yet.
"There's something I need you to do for me," he whispered, his voice dropping low, despite the fact that the windows overlooking where they were sat were all sealed shut.
Looking on willingly, she waited to hear what he had to say. Getting to his feet, he reached deep inside his right trouser pocket and pulled out a beautiful silver necklace, with an odd looking ring dangling from it. Watching the ring intently as it danced back and forth on the necklace, she was captivated as the occasional ray of sunlight sneaked through the surrounding plant life, ricocheting off it in all directions. Holding the necklace tight, Peter knelt down on the floor in front of his friend. Richie wondered what on earth was going to happen next.
"I need you to look after this for me," he remarked, dangling the necklace right in front of Richie's pale, freckly face. "It's really important!"
Up close, she could see just how unusual the ring hanging off the silver thread in front of her really was. Matt grey, it had tiny little ice blue triangles of light all the way around it, interrupted only by one slightly larger and markedly bigger grey triangle. It was mesmerising.
"I... I... I... I..." she stammered. "I... don't know what to say."
"Just say you'll do it for me. Please?"
Thinking about it for a couple of seconds, something suddenly occurred to her.
"It's not stolen or anything is it?"
Peter's stomach somersaulted as if it were trying out for the Olympic gymnastic squad, recalling how he'd taken it from Gee Tee's vault. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling, he pressed on.
"No... nothing like that," he lied. "I just need it kept safe, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather trust with it than you."
Carefully she plucked it away from him.
"Is it valuable?"
"More than you could ever possibly know," he replied.
She thrust it back in his direction.
"If it's valuable, I can't possibly keep it."
"It's more a sentimental thing," he whispered, with more than a hint of truth about it. "Please... you'd be doing me a big favour."
Richie swallowed uncertainly.
"Okay," she eventually squeaked.
Taking the necklace, he carefully placed it around her slim neck and did up the clasp, letting the ring hang low, just out of sight below her work shirt.
'Perfect,' he thought, stepping back.
Richie twiddled with it just a little, getting used to the feel of it against her soft, pale flesh.
"Please promise me two things," he said. "First. Please don't take it off, not unless I tell you to, and guard it with your life. Okay?"
A serious look imprinted on her face, she nodded.
"Secondly," he started, "please do not, however tempted you are, put the ring on your finger. This is really important, and you need to promise me you won't do that."
"I promise," she swore, wondering exactly what she was getting herself into. "Can't you tell me any more than that?"
Moments passed as he thought hard about how to reply. Through all his soul searching and all the questions he'd asked himself since the moment he's stolen her dragon consciousness in the ring, he'd wondered what to do with it, where to keep it safe. In the end, there could only be one possible answer. She should have it, it did only really make sense, it was after all... HERS! But how to do it so that she didn't know was the million dollar question. He'd come up with all this, but part of him now needed to tell her more. Phrasing the words carefully, he continued.
"What you have there," he said solemnly, "is not only the key to your future, but the key to your past as well. That's all I can tell you I'm afraid."
Satisfied he'd said all he could, Peter stood up, and downed the rest of his drink in one go. Following his example, she joined him and finished her drink, slightly perturbed but glad to have helped out her friend, feeling more than a little odd about the whole experience though. With the tiny weight of the ring nudging her skin as she followed him back through the plants and back to an afternoon of work, she promised herself she would follow her friend's instructions implicitly.
28
Playing Catch Up
It had taken every resource available to him and then some, but eventually he'd managed to pick up their trail. They were good, he had to give them that: constantly on the move, choosing out of the way places to stay, swapping vehicles non-stop, paying for everything with cash. They knew all the tricks, even avoiding CCTV cameras. He knew this because he'd backtracked where they'd been and although he knew the group had been there, CCTV footage showed not one single frame of any of them. Having already found and searched two of their safe houses, coming up a complete blank on both, a disagreement that had gotten out of hand at a gas station had been the breakthrough he'd been looking for. The owner, a distinguished middle aged gentleman, had reported the incident to the local police department. One of the station officers (a dragon, who along with most of his kind on this continent, had been briefed to be especially vigilant and on the lookout for anything suspicious or unusual) had recognised the report's significance at once and had passed it up the chain of command, pretty damn quick. It had, of course, ended up with him. Having spoken to the distressed gas station owner, it was pretty clear he was once again on the right track. Given the man's fear at seeing one of his regular customers thrown nearly eighty yards in the air, on top of the same assailant producing a stream of flame from his mouth and threatening to burn down the entire place, Flash didn't feel the slightest hint of remorse at having to wipe his short term memory.
That was two days ago, and the start of much hard work that had led him here, to this out of the way series of interconnected barns. Lying flat on his stomach, just able to see the building through the tall, sharp grass, he could feel the impossible currents and eddies of dark magic swirling in and around the structures he was looking at. Momentarily a trickle of fear ran through him. Immediately he swatted it away, in much the same way as most would with a fly around their food. His sole focus returned to what he had to do. Part of him thought about calling for assistance. Realistically that wasn't an option. The Crimson Guard, if they came at all, would simply ignore him and take over the whole operation, and that was the best scenario he could imagine, given his change in bodily circumstances. And if he called in the King's Guard, it was possible they might not be up to the task at all. NO! It was up to him, and more often than not, stealth and surprise were more than a match for a small force, even if that force was made up of magic using nagas and dragons. And it wasn't as if he were helpless... far from it.