The group of friends made way for the hulking great dragon that not a moment before had been amongst those surrounding Richie. Skidding to a halt, he then plodded forward, his giant feet making a slapping sound against the dark cobbles of the bazaar.
"So, little ones," he remarked, in a much softer voice than anyone would have thought possible. "What do we have here?"
Janice stepped forward to speak.
"Uhhh... his name is... Mr Gee Tee."
Throwing back his head, the dragon healer chortled uncontrollably. Moments later, he calmed down and looked at the startled, but beautiful blonde human.
"I don't think his name is Mr anything," he said, deeply amused. "But I know who he is, unlike all of you. Perhaps you could tell me what you've been doing for him?"
Hook stepped out.
"We've just been making sure he's been breathing really. That's all."
"Well, if that's all you've done... you've done a terrific job," answered the dragon.
A visible sense of relief rolled off the group. Just for a moment they thought they might be in trouble.
"Truth be told," declared the healer, "there isn't much else you could do. But what you've done is more than enough. I just hope that we're able to revive him. I hear he was responsible for this most dramatic of rescues."
Simultaneously, the friends all nodded.
"Because I think it's only fitting that he should witness the results of his outstanding and rather unconventional plan. Don't you?"
As the tiny, blue spark flittered about in the upper part of Tank's lungs, Flash's consciousness had it cornered.
'And now,' thought Flash, 'it's time.' Feinting one way, he knew full well the spark would leap the other. Sure enough, it did, but Flash was ready and dived headlong straight into the middle of it. A resounding ringing tone thumped Flash's ears, as more darkness encroached. It was also noticeably cold on the inside. Pushing all that to one side, having carried out his mission and reached his destination, it was now time to act. With all the willpower he possessed, and drawing on the well of energy provided by the healers, he opened the floodgates and started pouring it all into the spark, all the while sending hot, fiery thoughts through his subconscious. Fireballs, meteors, bubbling lava, a candle's flame, a roaring fire, a barbecue, a dragon's breath and finally a jumbo sized bonfire, were just some of the images he managed to bombard the spark with. It was working, he could feel it, feel it getting bigger, brighter, stronger... warmer.
She'd thought the recounting of what had happened at first was bad enough, but what she was hearing now made her feel physically sick. One by one, the group took it in turns to describe how, as the captured dragons watched, surrounded by guards, four dragons were frogmarched into the bazaar, all beaten sickeningly, all wearing restraints. The first two described were obviously Tank and Flash and she heard how they were immediately hung from the now completed structure. The currently immobile Casey was described as begging the leader, who she was pretty sure was Manson, to let him use his whip on the two prisoners. After some deliberation, the leader with the walking stick gave in and agreed. Depicted in some detail was the look of pure pleasure on Casey's face when this had happened. Richie could feel her blood start to freeze. A calculated evil nibbled away at her. She had the power; it had been granted to her. And he was only a few yards away. She could make him pay, make him beg for death, make him... suffer. No one here would object, that's for sure. In fact, most would fully understand. All she had to do was say the word. It was all she could think about, that is until the dragons started to explain what the other two prisoners looked like. Heart racing, her throat ran dry and a dreadful feeling took hold in the pit of her stomach. From the descriptions the dragons gave, she knew that the prisoners could have been none other than Peter and Tim, and there was no doubting the malice and intent with which they'd both been greeted by Manson. Her mind pondered this. She could understand Manson's interest in Peter given their history, but what did he want with Tim? In theory, he shouldn't even know who Tim was. It was after all, a closely guarded secret. But what if Manson knew? What if he knew that Tim was the dragon from the prophecy? What if he knew that the fate of the entire dragon domain was inexplicably linked to him? That feeling in the pit of her gut suddenly trebled in intensity.
'Things,' she thought, 'are looking worse than ever.'
And it might be that she was in charge of the only force capable of mounting a defence anywhere on the entire planet.
A tingling in his fingers signalled to Flash that he'd returned from his corporeal visit and was back firmly in his rightful place. Instinctively he pulled his hand away from his friend's devastated body. At least it should have been devastated and bloody, but it wasn't. Tank's body was covered in scars, bruises and bumps from the beating he'd taken at the claws of the brutal Casey, but the blood, the open wounds and the oozing welts had all disappeared. Flash was more than a little perturbed, as the little he'd been told about the task he'd just carried out seemed for all intents and purposes to save only the dragon's spirit, its soul, in a time of desperate need. He'd heard nothing to indicate that the dragon in question would be healed or even brought back to full health. Was it something he'd done? Perhaps a side effect produced by the other dragons sending him their power? Whatever it was, it was a welcome sight. As he knelt on the smooth dark cobbles, he just wished his friend would open his eyes.
Waiting patiently, the group of dragons expected some sort of response. Her mind hurriedly tried to process everything she'd been told. It appeared from what the captives had overheard, that Peter and Tim had been taken along with Manson. While they couldn't be entirely sure, a couple of the dragons had thought they'd heard the word 'London' mentioned. Ever more concerned, she tried to put the pieces together.
'What fate awaits Peter and Tim, goodness only knows,' she thought. 'But if Manson and his... army (yes, there are definitely enough of them to be classed as an army, and those are just the ones we know about) are on their way to London, it can only mean one thing: they plan to take over the entire dragon world, capture the council and the king, plunging the whole planet into chaos, and... BOOM! The earth's as good as theirs.' For the first time in her entire life... she felt genuinely scared. And not just a little. With fear pushing her on, her mind ran through every different scenario, every different plan, all the resources available to her.
'If it's a battle Manson wants,' she thought, 'a battle he will have.'
A racking cough spluttered from Tank's bruised mouth. Spittle shot up like a little fountain, before his eyes opened wide. The first thing he did was try to sit up. Before Flash could get there, a scale covered arm shot out, gently stopping Tank from sitting completely upright.
"Easy my friend," said a soft comforting voice. "Try and get your bearings first. Know that you are in safe hands, and there's no immediate threat." Carefully, Flash grabbed his friend's hand and pumped it gently. Tank looked over at Flash and nodded gratefully, seemingly aware of what had gone on. Flash smiled in return, glad his friend had survived. In all his life, he couldn't remember a time when he'd been more relieved. Releasing Tank's hand, he made to stand up.