From the king's prone position one unusual thing rather stood out. Fear! Genuine fear sparkling there in Troydenn's bright yellow eyes. He'd recognise it anywhere and had never seen it or any sign of contrition ever in the being he thought of as his mortal enemy, only a short way away. Something else was going on, he thought. Some sort of subplot if he wasn't mistaken. Perhaps all was not quite what it seemed.
"So... what is it you want, lacrosse player?" challenged Manson, using the same inflection for lacrosse player that he usually reserved for the word 'Bentwhistle'.
It was a struggle, one of epic proportions. She was so close she could almost feel his life touching the tip of the legendary laminium dagger. 'Want' didn't do it justice... 'need', that was it. She needed to kill him. Make him pay. Nothing else mattered, not now that Tim was dead. But that tiny bit inside her, the rational bit, the one tucked away in the back of her mind, surrounded by darkness, with currently no friends at all, grappled for her attention... it screamed at her to take in her surroundings, look at what was going on, who was here and recognise the stakes of the game being played out around her.
For some of the others, for example the king, Amelia Battlehard, and the troops under her command, witnessing the death of the White Dragon from the prophecy they'd all grown up believing, having had it instilled in them through their formative years in the nursery ring, was a heart wrenching, hope destroying act of utter malevolence, something that was no doubt Troydenn's very intention. Peter though, standing there with Earth still hovering behind him, had just put the pieces together.
'That's it! She is, and always was, the White Dragon. I knew it. Perhaps things aren't so messed up after all.' Just how wrong could one being be?
Taking note of all the beings in range, particularly Peter, Tank, Janice and Hook, it was the rational component of Richie's mind that gained the upper hand and stepped forth.
"Let them all go... NOW! Or he dies," she commanded.
"Listen to her, son. I think she means business," implored Troydenn, sounding more than a little stressed.
Scratching his stubbly chin, tapping his cane on the marble, all the time circling the prone form of the king, Manson appeared to consider Richie's demand. Abruptly though, he turned to face the human shaped dragon interloper.
"KILL HIM. SEE IF WE CARE!"
The look on Richie's face was a picture, but nothing compared with the look on Troydenn's. It wasn't what Richie or the elderly dragon above her had been expecting. How things progressed now was anyone's guess.
Earth's surface. Amazon River Basin, Brazil.
You'd think the rain forest would be used to being bombarded by a little precipitation, given its name, but here and now the circumstances were like nothing that had ever gone before. Driving rain continued to pelt down, just like it had been doing for over six days without any let up, in warm, moist streams that stung when they hit the skin. Water levels had long since exceeded all records, and with this being midway through what was considered the dry season, people up and down the Amazon were rightly fearful for their lives. Villages had flooded before the end of the first day's rain, with a national emergency being declared along nearly the entire length of the waterway. From Macapa at the river's estuary, where the river meets the Atlantic ocean, back upstream far beyond Manaus, covering some 1600 kilometres, the mighty Amazon had long since burst its banks, causing whole communities to flee, ruining wildlife and habitats, destroying valuable areas of land and putting human life at imminent risk. Sloths were isolated, even though they can swim, with the few who made it to relative safety having to move far faster than their agonisingly slow average of about a tenth of a mile an hour, for the first time in their lives. Jaguars bounded away from their natural hunting grounds at speed. Capybaras and anteaters, with their food sources destroyed, had little choice but to slope off inland in search of alternatives. Intensely dazzling poison dart frogs, covered in slippery potent venom, leapt from leaf to leaf, much higher up in the forest's canopy then they normally would be, whilst piranhas and black caiman stalked through the raised water, discovering uncharted territory. It was a catastrophe unmatched in modern times, affecting every single creature located within five kilometres either side of the mighty Amazon. Worse still, there seemed no let up in the magically induced deluge, with forecasters unable to predict when it would stop.
The culprits responsible for the relentless, supernatural downpour, all five nagas in disguise, had fled the area almost immediately, paying passage on a boat that headed up stream, eventually peeling off into a tributary called the Ucayali, which would lead them south, ultimately ending up in Pucallpa, where they were now, after over five days of travel. On the long, tedious journey, all five of them dreamed of slipping over the side into the murky, fast flowing water, but each knew better than to risk their cover identities, now with the end of days, and the supposed return of their king, so close. Instead, they sat quietly, keeping themselves to themselves, avoiding the other passengers, making absolutely no trouble and very little fuss, trying to blend in and be totally forgotten. For the most part, it had worked perfectly. Through their hidden telepathy, they'd discussed what kind of mischief they could get up to on reaching their destination. Fires, imbuing some of the local wildlife with temporary magical powers and murdering sprees were just some of the suggestions considered. In the end though, they decided to wait until they reached Pucallpa to see if anything obvious jumped out at them.
Within minutes of disembarking, the small group were sitting down at a table in the nearest bar, nursing drinks, letting their unfamiliar bodies get used to the feeling of being back on land. Blending in once again, all five of them used their magical abilities to listen in on conversations, whilst simultaneously watching the news reports blasting out from the television on the wall. Unsurprisingly, all the talk was of the unremitting downpour across the Amazon basin, the flooding and of course devastation. Fear in the voices of the other customers was evident, with each and every one of them concerned about the same thing happening here. Realisation of that very fact brought a smile to all five faces at once. The mischief needed was identified in an instant. They would of course be doing exactly what they'd done before, and not only would it terrify and ruin lives here, but much further down the line it would once again bring fright, horror and panic to those already suffering, further downstream, killing two birds with one stone if you like. Supping contently, all five imagined the chaos it would cause, and the recognition they would gain.
35
A Surprise Return
Huddled in and around the outreach building on the outskirts of Fleet Street itself, Gee Tee's rather large group lay low in and amongst the shadows, guards patrolling the perimeter; only their breathing could be heard. Amongst them, the small human contingent slept, curled up next to each other, exhausted not only from the journey, but from the stress of constant unseen threats. Their dragon comrades watched over each of them as if they were one of their own.
With Jar Man and DomCon sharing rude and amusing stories in one corner, quietly Gee Tee delved the depths of his knowledge searching for anything that might be useful in their forthcoming attempt to retake the crystal node. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a hooded, cloaked intruder appeared amongst them. Too startled to even react, let alone put up any sort of defence, the dragon force scrambled to get to their feet. But by the time they had, the need to do so had evaporated.