"It doesn't feel as powerful as I would have expected," declared the master mantra maker, weaving the blade through the air. "Somehow I thought I'd be overwhelmed by the sheer force of its power."
Not sure whether the old shopkeeper was just fishing, or actually knew, Peter decided to 'fess up anyway.
"It has a mantra designed to contain its power cast on it, currently."
"Indeed," sighed Gee Tee knowingly.
"And yet I can still feel it," observed Tank.
"Whispering, calling," added Peter.
"Yeah," replied Tank, nodding in agreement. "It feels charming, seductive somehow, almost as if it wants me to... UNLEASH IT!"
On seeing its effect on his friend, the master mantra maker handed the dagger back to Peter, who for the most part seemed unaffected by its very nature, whether due to prolonged exposure, or something in his underlying dragon make up.
"Would you not be better asking the king to look after it for you? I'm sure he has access to some amazing security facilities, much better than anything we have here," remarked Tank, slightly more clearheaded now Peter had the weapon.
Before Peter could answer, the shopkeeper butted in.
"There's something you need to know, app... Tank. Something I've been keeping from you, and something that your young friend here knows."
"Peruvian mantra ink all over again!" quipped Tank, cuttingly.
"I've been meaning to explain... honest! It's just with everything going on around here, and with the urgency with which we've been working lately, it's totally slipped my mind."
"Come on then... out with it!"
Gee Tee and Peter shared a quick look.
"There's a hidden vault beneath the shop."
Tank eyed both of them suspiciously.
"I know every square inch of this shop, as well as all the mantras used in its containment, protection and structural reinforcement. There's not one single part I don't know, and I would know if there were some kind of vault anywhere in its vicinity."
Turning his prehistoric head in Peter's direction, the master mantra maker urged him on.
"There is Tank, I've seen it."
Tank eyed his friend with a mixture of suspicion and disbelief.
"I would know Peter," he said with determined conviction.
"It has the most wonderful things in it," continued the hockey playing dragon. "Legendary things that just can't be possible. But they are. Merlin's staff, Robin Hood's bow, Billy the Kid's pistols, it's just out of this world. And there are other weapons too. Magical knives, fantastic swords, foils, rifles... you name it, it's there! That's not to mention all the amulets, rings and charms. Wall to wall shelves full of spell books, tomes, scrolls and one off mantras. Piles of armour higher than I am tall, full to the brim with shiny chest pieces, helms, bracers, boots... it's all there."
At first Tank had been more than a little sceptical, but Peter's enthusiasm and detail were more than enough to convince him of the vault's existence. Silently he cursed himself for not realising it had been there all along. Over the course of his employment he thought he'd mapped out the whole shop and its surroundings so carefully, but in essence all he'd really done was fail. Part of him felt embarrassed, ashamed. He tried to push it to one side.
"So just why is it so secure?" asked the young rugby player, determined to find out more.
"Ohhhh... you just have to see it. There are all these security measures, Mongolian death worms, self replicating tunnels, freezing water, gravity anomalies and deadly flying seeds. It's all there. There's no way anyone who didn't know what to do, could gain access. It's just impossible!"
"Whoa, whoa, hold your horses child," interrupted the old shopkeeper. "The vault's good... in fact, better than good. But to say it's impenetrable is very dangerous indeed. There's no doubt it's one of the best around, but nothing, I repeat nothing, is impenetrable."
Peter felt suitably chastised, while his friend felt... curious. He wanted to see it now, had to in fact. Recognising the look on his former apprentice's face, the old shopkeeper could hardly blame him for it. Tank found himself harbouring a slight resentment for not having been told about the vault in the first place, as well as a burning curiosity to find out more.
"Are you sure, young Peter, that you really want to place that very special piece of history in my vault? You are of course very welcome to do so, but know that you would be the only other person to have anything in there. Everything else belongs to me. And understand this. As I've just said, nothing, I repeat nothing, is impenetrable. The safeguards as you've seen are beyond belief, and I judge them to be possibly the best in the kingdom. But that's not to say they can't be defeated. I want you to understand the risks. This is a very special dagger, and in the wrong hands could no doubt change the course of history."
For his part, Peter thought hard about whether this was indeed the right thing to do. Sensing it was, not just because he couldn't think of anywhere safer, but there was something else, a kind of gut feeling, something he rarely got, but whenever he did, following it usually turned out to be the right thing to do.
"If it's okay, I would very much like to store the dagger in your vault."
Gee Tee nodded an acknowledgement, small sizzling slivers of flame licking the outside of his nostrils as he did so.
"Very well," announced the shopkeeper. "Why don't you take Tank and go and put the blade in the vault? I would place it on the empty rock plinth, that way it will benefit from a little extra protection."
Wondering briefly about the 'extra' protection mentioned, Peter had little chance to dwell on it as Tank bounded up to him, unable to remember the last time he'd seen his friend this excited. And then it all came back to him. How dangerous traversing the vault was, how many close encounters they'd had, and that was with the master mantra maker there. Surely he should come along?
Sensing Peter's reticence, almost as if reading his mind, the old shopkeeper spoke up.
"You'll be alright; I've cast the mantras on both of you. Take your time, go slowly and remember each and every detail from your last trip. Everything will be okay. Don't forget to take some of the spiders with you."
Nodding, ill at ease, and with Tank like an excitable puppy beside him, Peter wrapped up the dagger before signalling for his friend to follow him, which he duly did. Leading them both down the dusty dead end of oak bookshelves, towering high, almost out of sight, Tank's first thought was that there must be some kind of mistake, but as he stood behind his friend, watching him move the web encrusted tomes this way and that, he marvelled at the ingenuity of it all.
'So simple, and yet so utterly complex,' he thought.
Slipping what he thought was the last one into place, Peter took a step back as a loud hiss of escaping air whistled past his ears and the tiniest of clicks set in motion the circular bookcases splitting in two, revealing a shiny metal pole. Smiling at what was to come next, he had to contain his laughter.
'If nothing else, I'm going to have some fun with Tank,' he thought, turning to face him.
"Remember, don't touch anything, and always do as I do."
With that he turned, took a running leap at the pole, which he managed to grab first time, and shouted "GERONIMO!" at the top of his voice, as he slid into the darkness.
Tank didn't know what awaited him in the black void, but had already committed himself to finding out.