Focusing solely on the miniscule specks of dust hanging in the air, occasionally glinting from what little light forced its way through the metal grille in front of her, she found great solace in being tightly wrapped in the cloak that Flash had guided her to. Not a hundred metres or so from the nearest dragon, she knew that without the mantle she might well be discovered, because these were the King's Guard, supposedly the best of the best, although she was sure Flash would have something to say on that particular subject.
Lost in time with just the faintest dribble of magic from the laminium dagger, sheathed at her back, enhancing her hearing, she was confident that when she was required she'd be refreshed, focused on what needed to be done, and aware of the entire situation. Having already compartmentalised her feelings, listening to Peter and Tim's voices had little or no effect on her, at least that's what she kept telling herself.
Against the backdrop of the occasional beat of her very human heart, a familiar voice caught her attention from nearly two hundred metres away. It was the king, and in some respect his words cut right through her, attempting to crush the resolve she held so firmly on to. While devastated that he'd decided to surrender, the tiniest beacon of hope flared up inside her, because if nothing else, it had bought her best friend Peter just a little more time, something she would use to save not only him, but Tim and the king as well.
All she needed now was for Tank's force to fight their way up through the council building and appear on the other side of that blasted magical bridge. After that, it would be no great shakes to dispatch a few dark dragons and nagas, especially given the contingent of King's Guard that were already present, something she hadn't counted on. As the tiniest smile fought its way onto her pale, freckled face, she couldn't help thinking that as much as could be the case in an ever changing situation just like this, things were very much going to plan. She knew wholeheartedly that Tank wouldn't let her down and was one hundred percent sure that right at this very moment, he and his team were heading directly for her.
If only she knew.
What had now become a silent standoff was abruptly broken by footsteps, the shuffling of feet and the slithering of nagas, from back at the start of the bridge.
Manson turned to face the direction of the interlopers, incensed at the interruption.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" he yelled, his voice magnified by the acoustics of the surroundings.
"SIRE!" the naga leading a long pack of monsters, nervously fired back, as Peter struggled to get his head around the irony.
"We thought you'd want to know about this immediately," stressed the naga in charge, the whole group drawing to a halt right in front of everybody.
"WELL? WHAT IS IT?" raged Manson, about ready to tear someone in two. Almost without a sound, the two lines of age old serpents that had been following their leader slithered off to the side, revealing three badly beaten human shaped captives and three dragon forms, two of them quite elderly.
Goosebumps raced up his arms, as a loud sigh forced its way through his parched lips. Gobsmacked beyond belief as almost every emotion possible gorged on his insides, Peter struggled to stay upright, unable to believe the sight before him.
TANK... his best friend, bleeding from almost every part of his body, looking downtrodden and broken. HOOK... most certainly and inexplicably here deep within the dragon domain, despite him being... HUMAN! And then the last of the three, his love, his soul mate, the being he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Now he might just get that wish, but not at all in the way he'd hoped for. JANICE... here, now, battle scarred, damaged, bloodied, a right mess. Momentarily their eyes locked. In that instant, her love for him was revealed, despite the fact that he realised she must now know that he was a dragon. His heart leapt as the love he'd suppressed reignited inside him. But it was short lived as the sense of danger all around them closed in.
As Peter's heart leapt, Richie's fell into the deepest, darkest cavern within her mind.
'Tank, Hook and Janice... captured!' was all that she could think, from her vantage point high above the proceedings, as she slid down the wall beside the vent, her bottom slapping loudly on the floor. Momentarily unable to believe it, she wondered what on earth had gone on. Had they been lured into a trap? Overwhelmed? Made some sort of mistake? Knowing Tank inside and out, none of these seemed very likely. Smart and tactically aware, he would never have led the others into anything that even remotely looked like an ambush. Closing her eyes before running her fingers through her long, curly brown hair, she wondered how it had come to this, and just what they were supposed to do now. She'd counted on having the three of them fit... to fight, and armed, something they obviously weren't at the moment, as well as having the rest of their force with them. Given their absence, she had to assume they were dead, apart from the two elderly dragons and the healer from Salisbridge, who all looked like they were knocking on death's door. Alright, there were some King's Guards there, which might make up some of the difference, but could she just appear amongst them? Would it be enough? If she could free Peter and Tim, just maybe with the help of the king's force it might go their way. But uncertainty clouded her judgement. The opposing force looked to be mighty powerful in their own right and that was without taking the psychotic Manson and his deranged queen into account. Centring her balance, pulling in a deep breath, whilst still listening to everything going on down below her, she vowed to wait... at least a while, in the hope that one very obvious opportunity might present itself. If it did... she would be ready, of that there was no doubt.
"Well, well, well... just what do we have here?" scoffed Manson, ignoring the dragon king, limping over towards the new arrivals.
"As you predicted, my lord," ventured the leader of the small group, "we were attacked in the square outside the building by a small but potent force. These six represent all that remains of that force... four dragons and two humans. I thought you would be interested to know that there are humans here fighting alongside the dragons."
Eyeing the group with a dark, malevolent contempt, a bubbling sense of familiarity rose slowly to the surface of the dark dragon's consciousness. Recognising Tank as one of Peter's best friends, and the young woman from the bar of that blasted sports club that should have gone up in smoke from the laminium bomb that had somehow failed, a sickeningly evil smile snaked its way across his clean-shaven face. He was going to enjoy this. Make them pay. Observe his lucky and bumbling nemesis suffering as he watched them all die.
For his part, he felt terrible. Not just physically, although if you'd taken all the injuries he'd ever suffered throughout his time playing rugby and put them all together, they still wouldn't have even come close to what had happened to him today. A wreck, even by dragon standards, and that was saying something, but it wasn't just his physical state. They were all dead, all because of him. It was his fault; he'd been in charge... their leader. And they were caught off guard. Clearly Manson's force had been lying in wait, specifically for them. How? He didn't know. But they had been. And now they were here, at what looked like the end of it all. Taking in everything around them, his brain told him there was nowhere to go, nothing he could do. And part of him believed it. But a much smaller part, deeper down, recognised that he just might be able to do something, however insignificant it might be, having heard a brief snippet of what was going on when they were brought in. What he needed was a little bit of luck. Pushing the pain to one side, and with his blood still dripping on the floor, Tank wondered just how he could give fate a subtle nudge in the right direction.