In Gee Tee's mind, it had to end NOW! They'd already exhausted too much of their energy on this fight, and if they were to stumble upon a much larger force of these fiends, then this encounter did not bode well. Willing up much more magic, mana and willpower than he'd hoped to expend, he tapped into an ancient Algerian spell that had once caught his eye. Never having used it before, he was unsure of the specific results, but felt that right now it would serve his purpose. Focusing in on the squirming serpent, the words appeared at the forefront of his mind. Reading them aloud in his head, allowing some of his passion and power to seep through, he looked on in fascination as the prone naga's skull started to crumple in on itself. Two of the dragons fighting hopped back out of range, surprised at the stomach churning turn of events, while the other, talons still firmly implanted, looked on dispassionately. Moments later, it was done, the beast's skull firmly caved in, looking like some misshapen pottery attempt. As the dragon unhooked his talons, one of the others spoke up.
"What shall we do with the bodies?"
The master mantra maker thought for a moment. They didn't really have time to do too much, but if they were discovered it would raise the alarm and then they'd lose their element of surprise. What to do? What to do?
"Quickly throw them onto the pyre. If you can cover them up a bit, then do so, but time is of the essence and we can't spend too much of it doing this."
"They shouldn't go in with our kind. It's not right," piped up one of the dragons off to the side.
"I fully share your sentiments," stated Gee Tee thoughtfully, pushing his odd shaped glasses as far up his nose as they'd go. "But we don't have time to worry about right and wrong, good and bad. We have to get the job done. Not only do our lives depend on it, but the lives of millions of others, dragons and humans alike. Maybe even the fate of the planet. When and only when we've done that, can we return and clear up this mess, give our kin the proper, respectful send off they deserve. Until then, we must push on."
It wasn't the answer the dragon, or indeed the rest of them had hoped for, but it was just about enough. And so reluctantly, as one, they got to work, using magic to clear up the mess, depositing their enemies' corpses within the lower tier of the mountainous pyre that still burned fiercely, making sure they left no clue behind as to what had happened for others to find. With that all done, and with the dragon who'd been knocked out and badly injured by the naga's head butt revived and restored, the force returned to their previous positions and very slowly continued on towards their target, the building that housed the Fleet Street crystal node, all the time hoping to hell that Steel, DomCon and Jar Man were holding up their end of the bargain.
Usually well lit, before all this, anyway, the wide, high ceilinged corridors were masked in shadow, a foreboding presence staining their entirety, and as the three friends traversed them, nerves started to fray.
"I have a really bad feeling about this," murmured DomCon, his dour demeanour blending in with his surroundings.
"Everything's fine. They let us through didn't they?" replied Jar Man, his face neutral, staring straight ahead.
"Something's not right. I think they might be on to us."
About to answer his friend, the slightest telepathic tug on his mind was enough to still his mouth.
"Both of you calm down and please... don't speak like this. We have no idea if anyone's watching. If I were them, I'd have rigged up some kind of underhand security. If they see anything out of the ordinary, it's over before it gets started. We must maintain our discipline; play our roles right up until the very end. Only then can we reveal ourselves, which hopefully will prove too late for them to do anything about. I would suggest from now on that there isn't any telepathic contact. Who knows what abilities these damn nagas have? If they have a knack for anything mind related, using telepathy might well give us away. I'll say it now and be done. It's an honour fighting alongside both of you, and know that I'll do all that I can to make sure our mission here is a success. Also, if push comes to shove, I have your backs, just as I know you both have mine. End all contact now. Good luck."
And with that, silence returned to their minds, pierced only by the plod, plod, plod of Steel's huge feet on the brown, rocky surface as they made their way further into the enemy's stronghold.
46
Macabre Magical Madness
To most humans multitasking simply means doing two things at once, but to most dragons it means much more than two, something Amelia Battlehard was ably demonstrating right at this very moment. Hovering in place above what was left of her meagre force, she tried not to notice the dark dragons leaping into the air on the council building side of the bridge, or the flurry of nagas swarming across it. Instead she chose to bat away yet another sizzling cone of flame meant to incapacitate her, with the edge of the dark bladed sword she'd wrestled from the hands of a dying adversary. It had been some time since she'd hefted the weight of a bladed weapon in battle but the feel and possibilities came back to her almost instantly. So now she was defending not only herself, but the dragons below, swatting away attacks like a child would an errant bubble, as well as getting in a little punishment of her own when the chance arose. Swinging round to face the onrushing threat of a spiky looking dragon zipping quickly in her direction, murder written into his face, Captain Battlehard left it until the very last second to roll beneath the blunt and obvious attack, all the time maintaining the shield above her comrades below, not allowing them to become vulnerable to an aerial strike. With the 'disappointed off' attacking dark dragon already contemplating coming round for another pass, a valuable lesson in keeping up your concentration at all times was about to be handed out. Mid-way through her avoiding tumble, Amelia Battlehard's spatial awareness kicked into overdrive, alerting her to the fact that for a few brief moments there was nothing else in the air around her small group apart from the murderous dragon now flying right over her. It was a small gap to be sure, the reinforcements she'd spotted only moments ago would be here in no time at all, but the opportunity to rid the battlefield of one more enemy was just too good for her to pass up. Momentarily dropping the shield covering her allies, she soaked up the extra power that flooded her, and with two quick beats of her wings, threw herself after 'Spiky', who'd just started to bank into a very lazy turn. Pouring on as much speed as she could muster, she caught up with him as he came out of his turn, facing back from where he'd just attacked.
'Where on earth did she go?' was his first thought, seeing the small band of his enemies undefended from above. 'Perhaps I did some damage to her after all. Or perhaps in avoiding my brilliant assault, she damaged herself,' were both subsequent thoughts on the matter at hand, as he looked this way and that, over both shoulders, at the air all around him. Either way, he decided, now was the time to go back and put these second-rate beings out of their misery once and for all. If only he'd noticed the underside of his wings being buffeted just that little bit more than usual. But like most of Manson's force of part-timers, he was more brawn than brain, something that would prove a little costly.