Fire
Book Five of The Trees Series
by N. D. Hansen-Hill
***
Dedication
To Rosemarie, George, Chris, and Sheila…
***
Fire
Wrath and pain,
Lust, desire,
Molten hot
As dragon fire.
*
Blood that boils,
Skin that burns;
Insides ache,
As passion churns.
*
Hunger driven,
Or heated lust?
Sanity flees
In Banshee's dust.
*
Emerald eyes
A-fleck with flame,
Scales and claws
To rip and maim.
*
Moondrawn madness
Adrift on screams
Insatiable seed,
All lost in dreams…
*
by N. D. Hansen-Hill
***
Prologue
The Trees had stood for many years: harsh sentinels that stirred unreasonable discomfort, even fear, in the hearts of human visitors. These icons marked the boundaries, where one world interacted with another - where the seeds of one dimension throve in a place far from their origin. Some of those who traversed dimensions were also products of two worlds - changelings who had, by fate or folly, incorporated traces of another dimension within their persons; who'd succumbed to a mutation that altered their bodies as much as their outlook.
Their new genetic make-up gave them the freedom to traverse the channels between worlds, but frequently alienated them from their own kind. Many of them now found they had more in common with species from other worlds, than their own.
The latest victims of this odd mutation are Peter, Trevor, Katy, and Mari. Fairies, gargoyles, and gnomes are but a few of the creatures the mutants have encountered on their journeys, and they realise now that "fairy tales" have more than a little basis in truth. It is only the grimmer of these that they fear, for too many creatures caught in tradition have come close to catching them in fact.
The former humans have discovered themselves capable of amazing feats, from healing, to mind-over-matter displays. Some of their abilities have tried them in other ways - and Peter's soul has just been salvaged from an opportunistic wraith, who'd insinuated his way into Peter's tissues. The mutants are beginning to find that many of the positive aspects of their existence are not without cost.
They are resting now, and searching for clues to their future. To where they will go, and what they will become.
Some of it is decided already - a product of where they have been.
***
Chapter One
Thyme flew high above the crumbly rock of the Shimmer's lair, his thoughts far from the massive iridescent bulk of the creature below. As he neared the shimmery portal between worlds, he hesitated, nervousness causing his aura to flicker uncertainly.
The memory of Aristi's laughter still echoed in his ears - and the thought of it made Thyme snort in disgust. His father had offered him a warning, but Thyme had scoffed; little doubting that he could control the situation when it arose.
But can I? It seemed ridiculous to him that a mere visit to such a place could have such an unfortunate effect. Not that I wouldn't enjoy the doing, he thought, his eyes alight as he remembered the heat of Lily's aura immersed in his.
But, my father claims that Lily will have no control over her being. His eyes flared red as he considered what might happen. What if the situation should arise without him? With one such as Strey Aytaas? Jealous fury made his wings whirr faster.
The red glow faded slightly. It would not be Strey Aytaas. That pompous fairy would still be nursing wounded pride; eagerly squelching all rumours about how Thyme's friends had bested him. That had been the best part of this visit to his father: the knowledge that some not only called him friend, but had even sought to emulate his methods.
No, he would not be too late. Aristi had said it was most likely to occur during the full moon, in the Earthen world. Perhaps I should take Lily home, he thought. But, then, he considered the competition among his own kind. He could hardly watch her every second. And, what better claim could any fairy have to her, but that? Even Lily, as good and strong as she was independent, would justly acknowledge the claim.
Should I tell her what Aristi said?
She will never believe me, he decided. Aristi had admitted it was more of a cure - hardly common knowledge except, perhaps, among those few who had need. No, Lily will think I am being devious. She will think my true intentions are to seek that which I am trying to forego.
I could take her to see him, or him to her. But, location or timing could prove the enemy. Thyme pictured himself attempting to fight off twenty fairies, all vying for Lily's attention. Or, worse still, Lily vying for the attention of twenty other fairies. Although the thought of causing trouble always appealed to him, fighting large numbers of his own kind for his lady's attention - which should rightfully be his anyway - did not. Besides, Thyme remembered how his father had been so quick to share auras with Lily. Can I trust my own father, should it come to that? Thyme's light flickered once again. Some questions were better avoided.
Besides, his father, once again warmed by the firm arms of Nemelia, would not exactly welcome a request for his company. Especially since, with his son forewarned, there should be no need for help in this matter. "It is simply a matter of restraint," Aristi had said - "or the lack of it." And then, his father had laughed, somehow finding humour in the thought of Thyme being placed in circumstances similar to his own.
Thyme, fearing this situation as he very seldom feared anything, entered the dimensional gate. With any luck, he would have time to speak of these things to Peter. The human - who was quite clever in some things - might have some good advice for him. At all costs, I must avoid Lily, until I have decided what to do. And I must seek to speak with Peter alone. Thyme could just picture Trevor's response to this delicate situation. Ruefully, he admitted, it is similar to the way I would react if the trouble were his.
Thyme floated through the gate, some of his nervousness dispelled by his decision to consult Peter. He even chuckled at the thought of finding himself in such a fix. Exiting, his eyes on Peter's dilapidated dwelling at the top of the grass-clad hill, he breathed a sigh of relief. The breath froze in his throat, and he gave a squeal of horror as a pink-tinged aura mingled with his, and a soft pair of arms enwrapped him from behind. "Thyme!" Lily said, her eyes aglow. "I am so happy you are back!"
*
Peter ran his fingers through his hair. "What are we going to do, Katy?" he asked, looking at the way the floors dipped up and down in the lounge. They'd rearranged their bookshelves and Katy's pictures, and placed furniture to accommodate the downhill cant of the room, but even the blankets covering the holey walls couldn't hide the basic instability of the structure. "This place is a disaster area."
"That's not all, Pete." Trevor's smile dimmed as he looked at the few remaining comforts of home. He handed Peter a postcard. "Warning, warning, warning," he said, his voice as close to a computer-generated tone as he could make it. "They're about to turn off our electricity. For non-payment."
"Oops."
"'Ouch' is more like it, Katy-my-love," Peter said. "I, for one, am broke. I have enough in my account for this year's house payments, but then it's repossession time."
Mari came up in time to hear the last. "I have a little money, but not much, Peter."
Trevor nudged her. "I thought you medical types were supposed to be rich. You know - exorbitant fees, unnecessary surgeries, cosmetic realignments -"
She put one hand over his mouth, smiling as he started nibbling her fingers. "I haven't yet achieved that pinnacle of success. I'm still paying off med school debts. You know - slaving long hours in overcrowded conditions with the constant threat of bankruptcy hanging over my head. I was saving the success stuff for next year."
"Disillusioned once again," Trevor said with a sigh. "I only let myself go cheap, in the hopes that your huge bank balance would improve my credit rating." He gave her a squeeze. "I don't suppose there are any other rich medical types out there, who - with a great deal of effort, of course - I could convince myself I can't live without?" Secure in his arms, Mari grinned and shook her head. "Oh, well," he sighed. "I guess I'll just have to embrace a life of poverty."
"I have money." They all looked at Katy in surprise.
Peter's eyebrows went up, his ears lifting so that he looked more elfish than ever. "What's this? Holding out on me, Ms. Ryder?" He saw a darkening along her cheeks, and realised she was blushing. Taking her hand, he grinned. "Spill it, Katy."
"Do you remember, when I went to Sydney, and you ended up turning green while I was away?"
"How could I forget?"
Katy smiled, then took a deep breath and blurted, "I took some of my paintings with me - only, I didn't tell you."
Peter looked hurt. "Why?" he asked. "I would have helped you -"
She interrupted, a little impatiently. "That's just it, Peter. You would have helped me. You would have e-mailed a colleague in Sydney, and asked him to spread the word that a certain soon-to-be-famous-but-as-yet-undiscovered artist was in town, etc., etc., etc."
"Katy, I would never interfere in something like that -" Peter alternated "cut-to-the-quick", and "oh, how you've misjudged me" expressions, occasionally flashing a tragic, "how could you" look.
Trevor spoiled the moment. He snickered.
Katy's eyes flared a brilliant rainbow of colours, an array that was tending toward the reddish hues. "Oh, wouldn't you?" she asked. "Peter, just because you think I'm a competent artist, doesn't mean anyone else will. And you wouldn't have wanted me to return disillusioned. Admit it."
Peter shrugged. His own eyes flared slightly red. "That doesn't explain what's happened since you returned." He crossed his arms and tilted his chin up, still miffed.
"Uh-oh," Trevor said in a loud aside. "Peter's on his high horse. Mari, we'd better clear out."
"Shut up, Trev!" Katy said, beginning to get really upset. "I found out a few weeks ago that someone's bought that painting of the ocean I made -"
"Which one?" both Peter and Trevor asked together.
"The one where I tried to capture the sea life at low tide."
"The one with the squiggly rocks," Peter said to Trevor. Trev nodded. "And?" Peter prompted. "When was I going to hear about all this?"
"Peter," Katy begged, "be reasonable. That was just before you were possessed. It slipped my mind."
Mari couldn't help herself. She thought how anyone else would view their conversation. She started laughing.
"It's not funny!" Katy said. "I was planning to use any money I made from my paintings for a special fund." Peter's hurt expression fuelled her anger. Exasperated, she explained, "You and I were both working when I did this, Peter Trevick! We didn't need it!"
"What special fund?" Peter looked puzzled, mentally cataloguing any pet causes that Katy had mentioned. "For charity?"
Katy glanced at Trevor and Mari. "I'd rather not say."
"Let me guess," Trevor pushed. "'Save the Wongnits'? 'Fairies Anonymous'?" He grinned. "I'd swear off -"
Peter chuckled. "'Green-pieces' - for the salvation of nearly extinct green people." He pulled Katy over and nuzzled her hair. "You can tell us, Katy. Trevor and Mari are like family…"
She pulled away. "That's what it was about - family, you insensitive idiot! I was going to make a special trust fund to surprise you with - for our kids!" Katy bit her lip, embarrassed at her outburst. She turned away, and dodged through the gaping hole in the wall that led to their bedroom, letting the blanket they'd hung for privacy drop behind her. It was mortifying to know they could all sense what she was feeling.
Peter groaned in dismay. He didn't need to see her to know Katy was trying to hold back tears. The lights in his eyes dulled. "Damn!" he whispered. "I really blew it, pressing her that way."
"It's hard, Peter, but we all know what's at risk. None of us can take a chance on having children." Mari sighed. She hadn't wanted children herself - until she'd met Trevor. Now, she shared some of Katy's disappointment. "Not with the questionable genetic material we're carrying around."
Peter nodded, and Trevor slapped him on the back. "Tell Katy I'm sorry I teased her, Pete."
Peter gave him a weak smile, then a look of dismay. I hate it when she cries, he mouthed to Trev.
Trevor gave him a grin of commiseration, then turned to Mari. "Let's amble through what's left of the bramble, Mari." Mari gave one last look at the blanket, then nodded, following Trevor out the shredded wooden portal, that had once held the front door.
*
The ground undulated with a slow violence, at odds with its solid appearance. When the contortions of the soil could no longer yield, cracks formed, scattering across the surface like the drying fractures of a mud flat.
The cracks lengthened, to join one another in the myriad segments of a jigsaw puzzle. Dust flew in small explosive puffs from the ruptured soil. The dust danced with bright glimmers of organic detritus - that leaf debris speckled with luminescent glowing crystals, that had settled to form thick humus layers. The dust, the glimmering fragments, the tossing bits and pieces of decaying refuse mingled, thickening the air of the steep-sided ravine to a cloudy reddish-purple.
In the midst of this turmoil, the surface-deep cracks suddenly widened, opening rifts to a dark mass below. In a birth-thrust that likened the formation of a mini mountain, the ground was tossed upwards. The lightweight organic materials sailed high, littering nearby trees with a mixed speckling of crud and crystals. The heavier soils lurched, tipping layers of rock and amassed sediments into slide-formed hillocks of debris.
Movement ceased. The frenetic burst of activity had been exhausting; a violence randomly dispelled. The dust had begun to settle once more, when one of the hillocks shivered in warning. Another frenzied, explosive burst, that shot a stubborn boulder far afield, culminated in the thrust of a blackened limb from the depths. Claws scrabbled at the loose rock, soil, and humus, seeking a firm footing.
The next movement was startling fast: a sinuous parting of the soils. The thing that undulated forth was smooth, swift, and undefined - a thick, worm-like extrusion, that writhed as it met the day's light. Dust flew once again, and the ravine rustled with a scraping crackle, as though a thousand dried leaves were being ground against the scattered rocks. A rattling began at the base of the still-wriggling creature, moving in a wavery motion up the gyrating form. As it did so, the final bits of debris dropped away, revealing green-shot scales of shimmery black. Travelling upward, the wave splayed and shattered, as the concealed contours of the massive head were revealed - fanning outward in an unfolding of scales, ears, and a pointed, reptilian mouth.
A red ribbon darted between toothsome jaws, forking in a "Y" that snapped at the air, revealing the day's flavourful scent to the waiting beast. Satisfied, the jaws cracked in what may have been a smile, and twin bulbous slits, on either side of the massive head, opened. Brilliant green eyes, smouldering with dancing red sparks, studied the ruined ravine.
Assured that nothing here could challenge her in her yet vulnerable position, she shifted once again, drawing herself up and out of her former resting place. Capturing the day's heat in the black expanse of her leathery wings, she lifted her face, offering the sun a shrill, raucous screech of unmitigated joy. Without conscious thought, her wings started to beat, responding to the pulse that pumped mightily through her unencumbered form. Dust arose once more, filling the air, but she no longer cared. Narrowing her eyes to mere slits, she wallowed in the sheer pleasure of unburdened freedom.
For a creature such as she, that unburdening could not be satisfied by her emergence alone. Not while rock and soil still lingered beneath her feet. Not while the walls of the ravine remained to hem her in. With another raucous cry, she lifted skyward, desperate to taste the untrammelled freedom of the heavens. As she went, she whipped her lance-like tail, topping a tree with a satisfying crack - the action helping to vent her anger over her long entrapment. Then, in a burst of speed, she soared beyond the confines of the rock-clad cleft - soaring aloft in the unfettered freedom of dragon flight.
*
Thyme jumped, quickly edging his aura out of contact with Lily's. Lily drifted forward, to wrap her arms more firmly around Thyme's neck. She paused, sensing his uncertainty, and immediately misinterpreted it. "Thyme?" she said, a quiver in her voice. Did he regret the pledge he had made her? Doubt subdued the glow in her eyes, and the pink of her aura faded to dusky white. "Is something amiss?"
"Amiss?" Thyme tried to look confused, but failed utterly. Where is all my slyness? he asked himself in dismay. My grasp of the devious? This problem has obviously rattled me. Be convincing. Forcing a wide smile, he gripped her hands in his own, to keep them from grabbing him once more. "Aristi has given me much to ponder," he said, truthfully.
Lily considered what Thyme and his father may have discussed, and her aura grew heated. Thyme had always been fickle and feckless. Have I let him know my heart too soon? she wondered. Will he now flee from me, fearful that I may hold him to his pledge? Seething now, she pushed him away, using the strong beat of her wings to hold herself in place.
"Lily!" Thyme pleaded, but she refused to meet his gaze; holding herself tightly aloof.
Fighting away the anger born of hurt, she offered him a smile that failed to touch her eyes. Placing her hands at her sides, she said formally, "It is good to see you, Thyme. Your father is well?" At his nod, she flicked him a quick glance, then turned away, to dart swiftly toward the house.
Thyme groaned as he watched her go. "Lily, you don't understand!" he trilled in fairy to her retreating form. But, she didn't even pause. Swearing loudly, he denounced his amused parent, the sensitive natures of certain female fairies, and, particularly, the attractions of an ill-conceived world that would afflict the females of his dimension in such a fashion.
His first annoyance shed, he considered Lily anew. She must be told, for this was her decision as well. He thought of the brief flaring of her fury just now, and how she would feel, should she find he had made the decision without her.
Aristi was wrong. His father had said it was up to him. But, if I do not wish to hurt her further, truth is my only choice, he realised. Surely, she will believe me. Then, shrugging, a smile lightened his eyes once again. And, if she doesn't, at least she can't say I didn't try. Decision made, he whistled as he followed her bright gleam through the day's blue sky, already rehearsing the words he would use, to wriggle past her hurt feelings.
*
"I feel like a fool - falling apart that way in front of Trevor and Mari." Katy sat on the edge of the bed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I don't know what came over me." She smiled at Peter. "I've come to terms with it, Peter." She saw the flicker of doubt in his expression. "Really. Consider my little tantrum a temporary aberration, and forget it."
"It's not that easy to come to terms with, Katy-my-love." He sat on the bed next to her, his eyes staring unseeing out the glassless window frame. "Even if it weren't a genetic risk, I think about all the incredible things that have happened to us, and I just don't see how we could provide any security for a baby."
Katy nodded, thinking about the hazards they'd encountered. "I don't know what I was whinging about. It's just -" She stopped, searching for the words.
"It's just what?"
"Nothing, Peter," she replied, embarrassed. "Stupid stuff, that's all."
"PMS?" Peter inquired, trying to be understanding.
Katy burst out laughing. "How would I know? I don't seem to have any M, let alone the P or S. Goes to show there are some blessings in being green, after all."
Peter grinned, glad to see she was getting her sense of humour back. He gave her a hug. "We could go see if Lily's right," he suggested. "About there being other 'changelings' in her world."
Katy's eyes brightened.
Peter kissed the top of her head. "If nothing else, it might help us decide where to live," he added.
Katy grinned. "What? And give up all this?" A wave of her hand took in the yassel-stained furnishings, broken windows, cracked walls, and tilted floor. She giggled. "Maybe this could be our luxury vacation place."
"Hey - Morty's on vacation," Peter reminded her.
"Yes, but that's different. The vacation was for us, not him." She grew serious for a moment. "I hope it wasn't a mistake, Peter. I'd feel horrible if something ate him."
"Deron'll protect him - a darn sight better than we could right now. He was prowling too far for comfort."
"I think our little treks have been all it takes to convince Morty to make himself at home - anywhere."
Peter chuckled. "Now we just have to find a home big enough to hold him." He looked around. "And us. Especially when company comes calling." They both knew what kind of company he was referring to - the kind that had terrorised the house days before the yassels had. "But, first things first. Jordan's waiting for my report." Peter chuckled. "Wait till Thyme hears what Jordy's offering him for his help."
"Help with what?" came a snide voice at Peter's ear.
"Don't you believe in knocking?" Peter asked testily.
"Knock on a blanket, Butthead? I repeat: what's he offering?"
Peter glanced at Katy. "Big enough to live in, with big, sturdy locks -"
Thyme yanked Peter's hair. "His offer, Baldy Locks," he said threateningly.
"Dead-bolts, Katy," Peter went on. Thyme yanked his hair some more. "Or maybe," Peter said, giving the fairy a shove, "we could keep some big, crusty rocks by the door - for those 'special' visitors."
Katy eyed Lily's bluish aura, sensing her withdrawal. "Lily, are you all right?" she asked quietly. She guessed that Thyme's arrival hadn't been all that Lily had hoped it would be.
"I am well, Katherine," Lily replied, somewhat dismally.
"Never try a fairy's temper," Thyme warned, his eyes glinting red.
His wings buzzed, and he came at Peter, intent on ramming him. Peter said casually, "Jordy says he'll give you his wreck of a car, if you'll help us scout out the extent of the hyphal damage."
Thyme flared with excitement, and Lily, forgetting her hurt feelings, threw her arms around him. "Is it not wonderful?!" she exclaimed. "Your very own car!"
Thyme swirled her around, bright sparks showering the room in his excitement. "Our car, Lily!" he said, very deliberately. The pink colour flooded her aura once again. He ricocheted up and down, and Peter had to squint against the brightness of his aura. "Let's go check it out, Babe!" Dragging Lily by one wing, Thyme hit the blanket with a loud whup, sending it flopping to the floor. High-pitched fairy chatter sang in the narrow confines of the wrecked hallway.
*
Mari looked back at the house, seeing bright flares of light speeding past the windows. "Peter must have told Thyme about the car," she said. Her smile flickered, then was gone.
"What's wrong, Mari?" Trevor asked. She shrugged. "Spill it. Was it Katy's outburst? Is that it?"
She looked at him. "That's part of it, Trev." Slightly embarrassed, she continued. "I'm feeling it, too." She looked confused. "This thing about children, or babies, or whatever." He squeezed her hand. "I don't know why it should bother me so much all of a sudden -"
"Maybe you're just thinking about the future."
"Maybe. The last few days, I've been doing a lot of thinking. About my healing."
"And?" he prompted.
Mari sighed, then looked at Trevor seriously. "It occurred to me, Trev, that my healing has improved a lot. Or, rather, my control of it has. I think - if I were able to focus it correctly, I might be able to heal even severe genetic damage."
Trevor gulped. "Do you mean what I think you do?"
Mari nodded. "There's a chance that I might be able to bring us back to the way we were before."
*
The dragon's leathery wings captured the thin air of the higher strata, manipulating it to keep her aloft. Her flight was jerky at first, but soon smoothed out as her powerful muscles warmed to the demands of flying once again. Her rich genetic blend was multi-dimensional: a herpetologist's dream bred from the reptilian wonders of numerous dimensions, where her kind had once ruled and multiplied freely. Not least among her ancestors, were a hundred million years of Earthen dinosaurs, whose DNA riddled her cells in odd permutations of confused instincts.
Her multi-dimensionality served her well, allowing her to ride the slipstream of the gates to the worlds of her choosing, as long as their fragments were encoded in her tissues. Not for her the limitations of a singular destination, nor the uncontrolled traversal of the gates to the uncharted or unknown. Other creatures, upon entering the portals, were cast as flotsam on the electromagnetic light stream connecting worlds - riding each path to its unchanging destination. But she was above such an unwitting traversal of worlds. She chose her destination; creating her own electromagnetic slipstream, that mingled with that of the gate, to determine the outcome. She had merely to enter a gate, and slip to a level of her choosing - to raid, or mate, or gorge herself on the inhabitants of a dozen worlds.
Nothing beckoned her more strongly than others of her kind. Others whose mixed blood held traits as confused as her own - a mingling of worlds that somehow survived the tangled sharing of dimensions and bodily forms. No other creatures could attract her taste buds as strongly as those, whose physical forms so mirrored her own structure. Survival fare could come from anywhere, but the connoisseur's lure of savoury cuisine drifted to her, on the light rays of the dimensional portal, like a siren's call to her empty stomach. With a grumbling scream of impatience, she followed the electromagnetic trail to her prey, as another predator might follow a scent.
*
"How's the little hellion going to get it out of there?" Trevor asked Peter loudly, his eyes glowing brightly as he waited for Thyme's reaction. The little energy left in the car's battery was going fast, as the remaining lights flashed on and off, and the horn sang its harshly nasal melody over and over.
To Peter, wincing at the effect of the horn on his sensitive ears, it seemed like they'd been at it for hours. He frowned. "'Very carefully' is how. Remember, I own this little parking spot. Any more damage, and we won't even have a roof over our heads."
Thyme darted over and yanked Trevor's ear. "This hellion," he said nastily, "is going to have human help, or he," Thyme butted Peter in the chest, "is going to make certain subcreatures regret they ever met a fairy -"
"Too late," Trevor muttered.
At Trevor's remark, Thyme's wings whirred, creating a loud droning buzz that filled the hall. Feinting a disgruntled exit, he whipped a quick turn, gaining momentum as he zeroed in on Trevor's rear end. The hall grew momentarily bright with the force of the spark from the fairy's flashing wings.
"Ow-w!" Trevor yelled, while Thyme chortled gleefully.
"Thyme!" Lily's voice held chastisement.
Thyme's manner abruptly changed to one of bemused tolerance. "You are right, my Love," he said charmingly, taking one of Lily's small hands in his. "These humans try one's patience."
Lily unsuccessfully hid her smile. However, the words "my Love" had the effect Thyme had intended. Her annoyance gone, she merely asked, "Patience?"
Trevor and Peter sniggered. Thyme snapped off a warning spark in their direction, before replying smoothly, "Of course, Lily." To the smirking humans, Thyme said haughtily, "Remember, Bozos, that 'Patience' is only a game."
Peter snatched the fairy's wing and tugged him forward. "Maybe you'd better remember, Pug Face, that 'Patience' is a game you play alone."
Thyme used the whirring action of his other wing to jerk away. Changing tactics, he said winningly, "Yes, Peter Trevick. You are correct, as always."
Peter's eyebrows lifted, while Trevor's jaw dropped in surprise. "I think I'll be sick," Trevor said.
With a dramatic sigh, Thyme continued. "We must, of course, retrieve the information for Jordan first." He paused purposefully, to stare longingly at the car, trapped within the crushed floorboards of the hall. After a moment, he made a point of forcing his eyes away. "It will, of course, be impossible for me to extricate my payment alone. It is almost as if," he said in false wonderment, as though the thought had just occurred to him, "I am being teased. Will my wage, when I am finished, still be stuck in this hole, like some of your money in one of your banks?" He sighed loudly. "I am so gullible. So susceptible to the vagaries of human whimsy. It is only that -" he lowered his voice dramatically, while looking pointedly at Lily, "- if the car remains in that dark hole, my lovely Lily will be so very disappointed!"
"I can't stand it!" Trevor complained.
"I give up!" Peter said, flinging up his hands. "I'll help you! Somehow, I'll find a way to get it out of there," he conceded, his voice frustrated.
"And you tell me I'm gullible! Now, he'll never stop bugging you!" Trevor whispered, giving Peter a playful nudge.
Peter elbowed him back. Then, seeing the smug look on Thyme's face, and the glimmer of ill-concealed excitement lighting Lily's eyes, the humour of the situation struck him. He started to laugh. Trevor was right - having extracted his promise, Thyme would hold him to it. Smiling now, Peter asked, "Do you know the definition of 'nagging', Thyme?"
"Do you know the definition of 'dupe'?" Thyme responded.
Peter's smile faded. "'Dope' is more like it," he moaned. "How could I let you con me like that? I must be slipping." Peter stared for a moment at the sunken car, momentarily lost in thought. Then, a sly look entered his eyes, and he chuckled. His voice congenial, he said softly, "Jordy needs this report, Thyme. And it has to be very thorough." Peter walked over to the car, where he rubbed his fingers into the plaster dust coating the top. He continued nonchalantly, "Who knows how long something like this might take? I know of similar studies that have taken months - even years."
Thyme squirmed. "Long? Jordan did not specify long, Human," he said irritably. "I think you are being very difficult, Peter Trevick."
It was Peter's turn to look smug. "I certainly hope so," he replied, smiling.
Thyme flew forward and ruffled Peter's hair. "You do sly very well, Bozo," he said, his eyes bright.
Peter looked pleased. "Was I good, Trev?"
Trevor grinned. "Positively crafty, Pete," he admitted admiringly. "Can you teach me?"
Thyme flew over and hovered in Trevor's face. He told him, not unkindly, "There are some things that cannot be taught, Trevor. They are instinctive."
Peter laughed at the look on Trevor's face. Lily was more sensitive. She joined them, her voice scolding. "You would think it an admirable thing to manipulate another. It is to your credit, Trevor, that your straightforwardness betrays you."
Trevor looked happier. "See, Pete. That shows you. You've obviously been keeping bad company. You know - being led astray by bad influences and all."
Peter's eyes dimmed slightly. He was thinking of the effects of Jarrod Demascar's brief habitation of his body. "Do you think -?" he started to ask, worried.
Trevor sensed what was bothering him, and said quickly, "That's not what I meant, Pete. I was referring to Butthead," he assured him, flicking his thumb at Thyme.
Thyme yanked Peter's hair. "If Demascar were still with you, I would sense a difference, Peter." The fairy studied him briefly, head tilted and wings buzzing. "No, Human. I sense you are the same obnoxious creature of my first encounter." Peter looked relieved. Thyme added, "It is a pity that my good influence has not improved you." Grabbing Lily's hand, he darted swiftly away, out of Peter's reach.
"Lily!" Trevor called her back.
Releasing her hand from Thyme's grasp, she flew back into the hall. "Yes, Trevor?" she inquired.
"You're really picking up our language quickly now," he said, wanting to return the compliment she'd paid to him. As her head tilted in inquiry, he elaborated, "You know - 'manipulate' - 'straightforwardness'."
Lily's face lit up with a smile. "Oh, Trevor!" she exclaimed, shaking her head. "Knowing Thyme, how could I not also know the word 'manipulate'?" she asked. Her face grew briefly serious as she considered the other. "But you are correct, Trevor Richmond. It is very surprising that I should know the word 'straightforwardness'." Her puzzled frown changed to a smile. "Perhaps it is something I have learned from you -" With that, she turned and darted toward the door, leaving a trail of bright wing sparks behind her.
*
The roar of the portal sang its sweet tune to her scaled ear orifices, as the dragon shed the light of the gate, much as she would a cast-off moult. Her eyes opened wider in the darkening sky, and the old familiar burning began deep within. Her insides were churning, and an unwary belch startled her with its heat.
She had forgotten the effects of this dimension on her body: the discomfort of her heated innards, the roiling burn that etched painful striations through her throat and snout. The demands of the burning made her hunger an agonising thing, and she felt as though she were being eaten alive by fire - her insides searing and in need of appeasement - in need of an offering to the gods of her hunger.
She examined the cool light from the small dwelling on the hill, and was pleased when some shift of movement caught her eye. Her sensory network told her that food awaited, and her bowels rumbled. Her stomach acids, now more like lava than digestive juices, roiled and bubbled. She extended her wings, and took to the sky.
*
Lily paused sharply in flight, hovering like a hummingbird in the doorway.
"What's wrong, Lily?" Peter asked, sensing her turmoil.
Lily turned to him, the glow in her eyes a haze of confusion. "I do not know, Peter," she whispered, as though fearful of speaking aloud. Peter and Trevor drew closer. "There is something - a rumbling of movement - strong - forceful!" The confusion had given way to sharp glints of fear. "There is something fearful lurking without! Perhaps Thyme - with his knowledge of worlds -" Her voice trailed away as she sped from the room.
Peter went into the lounge and stuck his head warily through the glassless window. He couldn't see anything, but there was a heck of a lot of "without" where Lily's "fearful" thing could be hiding.
Trevor chuckled behind him. "Do you know how stupid that looks? You could've used the hole in the wall, instead." Trevor had patched part of the yassel-hole, and they'd covered it with a couple of blankets, but there were still large gaps. "Don't look so worried, Pete!"
"Maybe it's a Sylybin, Trev." Peter's expression was grave.
"Sylybin-schylybin. So what? Jeez, Pete - we've been through worse than that. Big deal." Trevor's voice was confident. "Nothing could scare me now."
Katy appeared in the doorway. Her arms crossed, she hugged them to her like someone trying to get warm. Her eyes searched the room, as though it could tell her what was happening beyond. "Peter?" she said.
He extended his hand, drawing her close. "I feel it, too, Katy."
"Any ideas?"
He shook his head. "Whatever it is, it sure spooked Lily."
Mari practically ran into the room, slowing her steps when she saw the others. Her expression slightly embarrassed, she tried to appear as though she was just strolling in. "It's no good, Mari," Trevor said, laughing. "Afraid the bogey man's going to get you? Don't worry, Mar. Trevor'll protect you." Still smiling, he wrapped his arms around her.
Annoyed, she pulled away, but not totally out of his grasp. "You may think this is funny, Trevor, but something's going on."
Trevor looked disgusted. "I don't get it!" he complained. "What a bunch of namby-pambies! You guys are being ridiculous." At their looks, he sniggered. "Have you forgotten Mader? Or that hyphae stuff? Or that cupid from hell?"
"It's because of those things that we're worried, you fool!" Peter said.
"All right," Trevor said, his tone placating. "But maybe what we're sensing is just an earthquake or something -"
"- so you're sensing it, too," Katy interrupted.
"What I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," he continued, giving Katy a stern look, "is that you're letting past experience over-rule your good sense." A humming sound filled the room, and the floor began to vibrate beneath their feet.
Trevor looked momentarily astonished that he'd been right, then said - his voice shaking along with the walls, "See-e-e! N-noth-thing b-but an-n ear-r-rthqua-ake!" As the walls continued to shiver, the crashing thunk of falling pictures, books, and mementos mingled uncomfortably with an explosive symphony of breaking glass and groaning wood.
"Get in a doorway!" Katy's shrill words broke through the cacophony. The others looked at her strangely. She screamed to them again, her eyes flashing multi-coloured hues. She enforced her words with a shove. "Move!"
But, moving was nearly impossible. The wave action of the quake acted on the canted surface beneath their feet, and they struggled for footing on flooring that had suddenly become as uneven as the rails of a rollercoaster. Katy dropped to all fours, then reached out a hand to Mari. The two of them began crawling toward the doorway. Katy paused once, to look back at Peter, and he forced a reassuring smile to his lips. "It'll be okay," he mouthed. Just then, one of the ceiling lights fell, showering them all with plaster dust.
Imperturbability could be overdone. Peter dropped, to crawl after Katy and Mari.
Trevor, coming up the rear, decided they weren't crawling fast enough. Closing his eyes against falling chips of plaster and wood, he picked up speed.
As one of his plant pathology tomes was flung off a shelf, and nearly into his face, Peter recoiled, stopping to shove it out of the way. Trevor never saw him pause. Concentrating on making full speed across the undulating floor, he barrelled into Peter's rear end. Peter, caught off-balance, was shunted forward, onto Mari, who sprawled awkwardly on to Katy. Trevor sat back on his haunches, trying to clear his eyes enough to see. When he could, it was to the sight of a big bookcase coming his way.
Trevor flung himself on to Peter, trying to get clear. The bookcase, books and magazines buried him nearly to his hips. The ground beneath them became suddenly still; the jarring movement ceasing as abruptly as it had begun. Only the plaster dust in the air, and loosened objects following gravity's dictates, remained in motion.
*
"Why?" Trevor's voice came out of a face liberally streaked with plaster dust.
"Why what?" Peter asked irritably, trying to pull himself out from under Trevor, so Mari could get clear. Then, he hastily lifted the bookcase off Trevor's legs.
"Why the doorway? And why do you have to do so much heavy reading?" Trevor asked in disgust, tossing aside some of the larger books that were still pinning his legs. He picked up the biggest, testing its bulk with one hand. "This is as close to this kind of rubbish as I ever want to get," he grunted, chucking it aside.
Peter watched one of his more treasured references slam against the wall, before tumbling to the ground. He quickly helped Trev extricate himself, before he could toss anything else. "Some people have no respect for the finer things," Peter said. "Are you okay?"
Trevor turned over and wriggled his legs. "Fine," he said, then grimaced. Lifting up, he tugged a slim, dented volume out from under his rear end.
He started to toss it away, but Peter quickly snatched it. "No, you don't," he said firmly.
"Is that one about fungus, too?" Trevor asked. Peter nodded. "Then I agree with you," he said with false reverence. "Tossing's too good for it, Pete. I should have left it under my butt." He grinned. "Katy - why the doorway?" he asked again.
Katy had one arm around Mari, who sported a decidedly chalky cast to her green skin. "Because it's one of the best places to wait out an earthquake," she responded. "Either that, or under a table. But, our flooring's so bad, I opted for the door."
Trevor studied the hole Symmerley had kicked in the lounge wall weeks before: noting how bulgy and uneven the wall was beginning to look. "You think the flooring's bad," he mumbled. "Tractor shed's sounding more plush all the time."
"How do you know?" Mari asked.
"Hey - move out the tractor, add a little furniture -"
In Mari's mind, this wasn't the time to be making jokes. "Katy," she emphasised, frowning at Trevor, "why do you know so much about earthquakes?"
"I grew up in earthquake country. You kind of get used to it after a while."
Mari shivered. "I don't think I could ever get used to something like we just experienced."
"Well, this one was the biggest I've ever felt," Katy admitted. "It must have been six or seven on the Richter Scale."
"Listen to her!" Trevor remarked. "'Six or seven on the Richter scale'," he mimicked. "As though any normal person would live where there're earthquakes."
Peter grinned. There was no way Katy was going to let that remark go by. "You're right, Trevor," Katy said, a multi-coloured glint in her eyes. "Only exceptional people can live on the brink of disaster."
"Exceptionally strange," Trevor said.
"Well, then, you should be delighted to be living in what now appears to be a fracture zone. If being exceptionally strange is the requirement, then you ought to feel cosy as a clam."
Trevor opened his mouth to retort, then snapped it shut, much like the clam Katy had mentioned. After a moment, he said, snuggling up to Mari, "That's okay. Mari and I prefer our foundations to remain firm. By the way, Mari," he whispered, "did I ever mention what a fine foundation you have?"
***
Chapter Two
They all stood up cautiously, checking the ground for solidity, not quite certain whether to trust the weakened flooring. "There could be aftershocks," Katy said casually. Peter's eyes met Trevor's, while Mari gasped in dismay. Without a word, the three dodged for the doorway.
As he passed Katy, Peter reached out and pulled her after him. "There's such a thing as being too casual, Katy," he complained.
She shrugged. "There's also such a thing as being too paranoid, Peter. What are you going to do: spend the rest of the night hovering in the doorway?"
"Sounds good to me," muttered Trevor.
"I think I'd feel safer outside," Mari said, as one of her feet slid into a hole under the hall carpet. "This door jamb doesn't look all that solid." She hit it with the heel of her hand, and a crack in the wall above showered down more plaster dust.
Katy sighed and nodded. She was considering this further damage to their little house. Then, her eyes alight, she turned to Peter. "Peter, do we have earthquake insurance?" she asked.
She never heard the answer. The shaking began again, and Peter tilted his head, listening to a bizarre rumbling howl in the background; some sound that went beyond the train track roar of the preceding quake. Then, the lights went out.
Mari screamed. She'd never really liked the dark, and the idea of being trapped within the blackness, in a world full of movement, appalled her.
What came next appalled her more. The jarring of her world suddenly gained an additional sound to the already throaty rumble that quivered her perception. The roof, the rafters, and the ceiling groaned and cracked, responding to the torturous assault upon the old beams. Mari squatted down, covering her head with both her hands - knowing it was a poor defence at best, but unable to come up with better. Squinting her eyes closed, she cowered, taking some comfort from the feel of Trevor's hand on her shoulder.
She took no comfort from the knowledge that the others were terrified, too - even Katy, who had been so calm only seconds before. For a moment, Mari hated the sensitivity that made her experience their fears, in addition to her own.
Squatting so close to the floor, she missed the cue that sent additional shafts of terror through her friends. Smoke. Trevor's nose caught it first, and he nudged Peter, whom he sensed, rather than saw, nod in the dark. Katy's grip tightened on Peter's arm, and his yelled, "Out!" was all the motivation they needed. Trevor yanked Mari to her feet, and they moved as a group into the hall - to trip their way through the shifting darkness.
There was really only one way to go - out the front door. As they moved toward the opening, the tumult above their heads rose to an explosive blast: a rending of timbers and metal, the screech of extracted nails, and the clabber of something else - the scraping of a huge form trying to gain purchase on a slippery surface. In sudden fury, the roof gave, and Peter grabbed Katy and threw her flat, picturing the impact of that weight on their unprotected heads.
*
If I could just get mad enough, we might have a chance. Trevor tried to dredge up his anger - and, with it, some power to keep the weight of the roof from lodging on their heads - but all his fury seemed to be buried under a thick layer of fear. Terror reigned in the darkened hall, and all he could feel were the unspoken screams of the others.
The plaster rained down, getting in their noses and eyes, sending tears streaming down their cheeks. Katy was glad that her tears were hidden in the dark. I was so cocky, she thought. So matter-of-fact. She regretted her over-confidence; the way she'd taken it all so lightly. I even asked Peter about insurance. I should have considered, instead, what might happen next.
*
The roof disappeared, leaving a skeleton of framing timbers to mock where it had once been. The four of them, huddled in the hall, looked up, expecting to see death hurtling their way, and were shocked, instead, to see the glint of stars. The illusion of safety was quickly cast aside as a cloud of smoke drifted into their vision, and a horrifyingly chimaeric vision displaced the last of the starlight.
It created its own silhouette. A fearsome red glow filled their view with a garish light, that etched the features of their adversary against the innocence of the night sky. The Thing spat, espewing molten droplets that set the beams alight; taking away nearly the last of their protection against the elements - and one of the last barricades between themselves and her.
Peter stiffened. There been a certain feel to some of his encounters in the past; a certain mental set that he'd come to recognise. It had been there in his meeting with the Shimmer, just as it had marked his first encounter with a wongnit, and his first tussle with a cat-beast. It was a sickening feature of his time within the Sylybin. That mental set was definitely here now. Whatever this creature was, it intended to eat them.
Unless we can talk it out of it. Peter held on to the faint hope that, whatever this Thing was, it might yet be reasoned with. Until he saw it stretch out its long neck, to rip away yet another timber blocking the path to its intended meal. It would just as soon reason with us, he realised, as we would reason with the meat and potatoes decorating a dinner plate. Our only hope is to run. His smoke-stung eyes searched the exits. They'd be too damned exposed. Where could they go?
Mari was frozen beside him. Her shocked numbness was almost tangible. "Still feel safer outside?" he whispered. It worked. She turned to look at him, and he sensed a glimmer of rationality seep back into her thoughts.
"And I bragged that nothing more could scare me!" Trevor hissed. "Anybody have a toilet?"
Katy's eyes were glowing, and her hands were already starting to pulse with multi-coloured hues. "No!" Peter said softly, but firmly - trying to call her out of her inward vision. Her eyes were distant and unfocused, and he knew she was looking within, at her own fear, her own anger. She, too, recognised the beast's intentions, and it was stirring her to action. "Katy-my-love!" Peter called her back to the here and now. "It won't work." He glanced upwards once more, then down at the soft luminescence that had involuntarily brightened his own palms. "That Thing's just too big."
Katy's voice quivered. "It wants to eat us, Peter!"
"The healing stone!" Mari whispered urgently, thinking of what might happen in the next few minutes. "It's somewhere in the lounge!"
Trevor crawled back, to look in dismay at the piles of wreckage. He returned a moment later. "We'll never find it under all that!" he moaned. Then, his eyes grew brighter. "But Thyme could!"
Peter jumped as a tongue of flame curled in past the remaining rafters. "Where is Thyme?" he asked worriedly. "And Lily?"
"Somewhere close," Katy answered. She closed her eyes in an attempt to concentrate. Frustrated, she admitted, "It's no good. I don't know where they are. Only that they're still alive."
The four flung themselves backwards as a flame-thrower burst came their way, this time charring the remainder of the ceiling. "He doesn't just want us - he wants us scrambled and charbroiled!" Trevor said. "I liked it better when he was earthquaking us -"
"That's it!" Mari said.
"Charbroiling? I'm much better raw -" Trevor interrupted.
"No!" Mari said impatiently. "Isn't there something we can roll in, to make us taste bad?"
"Morty!" Trevor called softly. "We need some direction here -"
"No Morty, and no good," Peter said. "He'd just burn it off -"
The others looked at him in distaste. "Yuck!" Trevor said.
"She!" Katy exclaimed. Peter looked confused. "It's a she, Peter. And I think I know what she is." Her voice grew louder, a trace of excitement mingling with her fear. She didn't even flinch when the creature struck again, ripping with claws and teeth at a portion of wall. "She's a dragon!"
Peter looked astounded. "A real, honest-to-God -"
"- fire-breathing dragon!" Trevor was awed.
Mari stared at their adversary, and fought against the wonder that could take the edge off her fear. It's enough that all this will be frozen on my brain forever. Some day, maybe I'll be able to draw it out and appreciate it, but now - Her thoughts were interrupted by a brilliant flare, that darted toward the dragon's reddened eyes. "Look!" she screamed, pointing.
But all eyes were already fixed on the dragon's small adversary. "It's Thyme!" exclaimed Peter. "What chance can he have against that?"
Lily's excited glow burst into their vision. "Why are you not fleeing?" she squealed, without a trace of her usual fluted tones. "Thyme is distracting her!"
"Where to?!" Peter asked, considering their options.
"Where can we go?" Mari asked desperately. Their only exit would take them literally into the dragon's mouth.
"Under the floor!" Trevor said, tugging back the ruined carpet, to rip at the weakened floorboards. Finding one place where rot had succumbed to abuse, he cleared a hole, and pushed Mari through. "Go, Mar!" He was already tugging Katy toward the gap, when Mari screamed. Trevor, attuned to Mari's feelings, didn't realise it was more of a yelp than a scream - the shock waves of her response stirred him to action. He yanked Katy out of the way, and dove headfirst into the gap. Lily followed, using her aura to light the blackness beneath the house.
It wasn't needed. The hell-cast haze of the dragon's breath - caught and held in flaming cinders, burning boards, and molten plastic - laced the underside of the house, reddening the smoky, multi-piered scene. Like the pink clouds that brighten dawn skies, these artificial cumulus reflected back the yellow and red brilliance of the world outside - the gastronomic disorders of the predator inadvertently seeking out the hidey holes of her prey.
*
Mari forced herself to lie still. She'd wriggled through the dust, stirring clouds of her own as she'd squirmed to place the solidity of a concrete foundation block between her and - what? The eerie light cast artificial shadows; shadows that flickered with the confusing, constantly shifting billow of the invading clouds. The sulphurous fumes itched and burned their irritating way into Mari's mucous membranes, causing her eyes to tear, and her nose to run. She fought to focus against the swimming swirl of hazy, burning clouds - trying to see what had moved beneath the house. Whatever it was, it was big enough to stir dust devils of its own.
It was there, for just an instant. Large and black, it had crept toward her, sinuous as a snake. Then, it was gone; lost in the clouded heat, dust, and smoke; in the mixed movements and shadows. What is it? Mari's first inclination - the one that made all her muscles tighten with impatience - was to flee. But where? This was their escape route - the only one available to them.
It's up to me, Mari told herself. Trevor had thought, by forcing her into the hole, that he was saving her from further harm. He put my safety before his own. The only way I can repay that, is to see if we really can escape this way. She gasped a heated breath of hellish air, shaking as she saw the black thing come at her once again. Saving me from harm. The thought came like a prayer. If he only knew just how wrong he was.
Trevor did know. She was here somewhere, lost in the dust and haze. Calm down, he told himself. Concentrate. Find her.
*
Katy leapt to her feet, as a huge drop of searing saliva doused the smouldering bits of debris and embers littering the hall carpet - steaming thickly where her head had lain only moments before. Peter grasped her wrist, pulling her back down. "Katy!" he urged.
Katy risked a quick glance in his direction. Most of her attention was focused on the dragon now, who had noticed their response to her salivating hunger, and was now arching back, preparing to spit again. "Look out!" Katy shrieked, as another steaming glob came her way. Jerking backwards, she fought to get clear, inadvertently ramming Peter against the car. "Peter!" Katy half-sobbed the words. Her feet stung from the splash-back of glistening, smoking droplets. "Next time she'll have us!"
"Under the house!" Peter, his arm firmly around her, slid backwards across the floor, to practically fling her at the hole that had swallowed Mari, Trevor, and Lily. He shoved her in, cringing as he heard her thud headfirst on to the ground. The last thing he heard, as he fell in on top of her, was a raucous gargle from their large adversary, as she sought more moisture from her heated throat, to tenderise her difficult prey.
*
Damn it, Mari! Where are you?! Trevor didn't dare broach the question aloud, for fear Mari's response might draw unwanted attention her way. Lily was excitedly glowing like a hundred-and-fifty watt bulb, and he shielded his eyes with one hand, trying to see into the dimmer areas beyond. It was so damned disorienting. The weird angle of the floor above his head, the churning dust that stunk of smoke and yassel, and the tilty, skewed rows of piers that danced in the flickering flamelight made it nearly impossible for him to pick up Mari's movements. "Turn it down, Lily!" His whispered annoyance sounded more like a growl. "You're blinding me!"
Lily, frenzied in her anger and fear, was unable to comply. Her own fears for Thyme, for these humans she called friends, and the terrifying voraciousness of their attacker, were playing havoc with her senses. Shifting lights, the thick, acrid smoke, and the pungent aroma and sensations of terror riddling this low, oppressive hidey hole, affected her delicate nervous system, sending all her responses into panic mode. "I can not help it, Trevor!"
The last words were lost in a slur of fairy, but Trevor got their meaning. Momentarily surprised at her loss of control, he glanced her way, suddenly becoming aware that the intensity of both physical and emotional sensations was causing her pain. He realised that Lily and Thyme could have been well beyond the dragon's reach by now - yet they had chosen to stay - to try to salvage the lives of four ungrateful humans. "Thanks, Lily," he muttered gruffly. Quivering, she ran a gentle hand across his, offering him a tremulous smile.
*
Mari lay still for a few moments, wishing she could disappear from this hideous hell-hole. Spiders, struggling to escape the heat, abandoned their webs, and sought shelter in the dark layers of her hair. She twitched it, trying to blot out the creepy-crawly feeling of tiny legs and feet. Once, she opened her mouth to swear, and ended up spitting out a particularly repulsive specimen. Her stomach churned. That's all I need, she thought. Any more of this - she wiped a hand across her neck - and I'm going to throw up -
Don't throw up - don't throw up - don't throw up - Her brain chanted it like a mantra, while she sucked deep breaths through her nostrils, not daring to open her mouth again. The spasm passed, and she lay there weakly, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. Her ear against the ground, she felt, rather than heard, the approach of the dark creature which had terrified her only moments before. All thoughts of sickness flew, as panic churned through her veins. Cursing her stupidity, she jolted to attention. Her anger at herself gave her courage, and she scooted forward, using her elbows to pull herself across the dusty floor.
The Thing swept around in an arc, slapping against her with a heated thud that sent her rolling against the concrete foundation. Mari, terrified, got up on all fours and tried to crawl away, bumping her head and back on overhanging pipes and wire; scraping against wood and metal plates. She twisted her head, to see the black Thing coming at her again through the murk.
It was the stuff of nightmares. Mari tried to crawl faster, but couldn't overcome the feeling that she was moving in endless slow motion. Ramming into a low board, she briefly saw stars - her aching brain making her momentarily wonder whether she'd made it outside. Then, a shower of cobwebby dirt coated her like rain, gritting her eyes and making her realise that she was a long way from being in the clear.
Unable to see anything now beyond the stars in her head, she tried wiggling forward, but the feel of a heated blow against her ankle sent her into crawl mode once more. Sweating dirt into mud, blinded by the dusty cobwebs that coated her eyelids, and gasping for breath like an asthmatic needing her inhaler, she barrelled forward - head down - directly into Trevor's rear end.
Trevor was knocked flat - or nearly so. His head contacted the concrete block that Mari had hit only moments before. Mari lay prone across his lower legs as an intense awareness of Trevor's being flooded her senses - combining relief with an inordinate sense of well-being and happiness that had no place in this grotty hole beneath the world. Spitting the dirt out of her mouth, and wiping, first her eyes, and then her lips, on the inside of her T-shirt, she said softly, but with a sure and firm note that made Trevor forget his sore head, "I really do love you, Trevor Richmond."
Trevor rolled over carefully, to avoid pushing her face into the dirt. He looked at her briefly - her face scrungy and dirty - but her eyes alight with softly pulsing lights. Don't let me blow this, he thought. Then, seeing her expression, he realised that whatever he said - whatever words he used - it wouldn't matter. She loves me. She's telling me that she loves me - and, even if I mess up, it won't matter. Grinning, he winked at her. "It took you long enough," he said. "Because I feel like I've loved you -" he paused as though thinking about it, "- just about forever."
"But you've only known me a short time -" she wheezed, choking on the sour smoke, before moving up to lie against him.
"Picky." He tried to think of a romantic way to put it. "I needed a special diode to make my circuit complete." The hand Mari was using to caress the bump on his forehead suddenly assumed a more professional touch. He took her hand in his. "No, Mari - what I'm trying to say is that I always needed you, to make me the person I wanted to be. Only I didn't know it until I was with you, and - and my life just suddenly got a whole lot better -" He grinned, satisfied. "You completed my circuit, to make me the person I wanted to be." He looked beyond her, seeing a smooth blackness sift the shadows. "Right now," he said with false calmness, "the person I want to be is a live one. Move, Mari -"
Mari, her head against Trevor's chest, had felt the betraying lurch of his heart. She was already in motion, her hand tight on his arm, as she urged him in the direction of Lily's incandescent aura.
*
Katy was wedged where Peter's weight had pinned her: between the car's tyre and a big concrete block. "Peter!" The sound was muffled, but the fear in her voice wasn't. It was here that Lily lingered now - her agitated movements stirring wild shadows in the shallow space beneath the house.
Peter's dive into the hole had been followed by the scream of the dragon's frustrated fury, as she flung charred boards and beams, furniture and wads of insulation at her quarries' hiding place. The itchy insulation protected Peter from the nail-studded sharpness of the snapped wood, but there was no protection from the sheer awkward weight of the toppled boards. Peter squirmed and kicked at the debris that trapped him, well aware of the panicky note in Katy's voice. He tried to turn on his side, to ease the burden of his weight on her back, but the movement caused the unsteady pile at his own back to shift, sending paint chips, plaster, and broken wood spilling through the contours of their hiding place.
Some hiding place! Peter thought. Burial place is more like it.
Katy felt his discouragement; recognising his frustration at being unable to free her. She wriggled one hand out from where it lay pinned beneath her chest, working it free between her hip and the tyre, in order to touch his arm and grip it tightly. I love you, Peter. The words slipped quietly past the panic stirring his mind, seeping a note of calm into the muddled fears that drove him. Next time - the message appeared in a burst of red scrollwork - I get to be on top -
In spite of their situation, Peter smiled, shifting his arm so he could grasp her hand. When that time comes, Woman - behind her closed eyes, the vision of a dark red rosebud appeared, grew plump and swollen, the petals suddenly exploding outwards into a lush, fragrant flower - I'll make sure you don't know which way is up -
*
Thyme spun in a rapid whorl, that left the dragon uncertain where he was. The residual light from his energetic movements remained to linger annoyingly on her vision, distracting her from her determined attack.
The changelings, whose blood and cells pulsed with a blend of worlds so enticing to Direygayn's tastebuds, were radiating even stronger signals in their fearful flight: the scents of terror-induced exertion - so strongly emitted that she could almost taste the sweet protein and fats; the salty sweat of their bodies.
But this small creature would not be stayed. Like the quilras and shyranoynoys of other worlds, and the flies and mosquitoes of this one, the small being returned again and again. Direygayn could only assume that this thing, although larger than those other plaguey pests, possessed no greater a brain. His belligerence and dare-devil tactics, in the face of his certain demise, could only be considered demented: the acts of a suicidal species intent on being squashed. Direygayn roared at him again, unburdening herself of an abhorrently large burst of flaming heartburn, as she belched out a long, untidy, regurgitating blast.
Thyme continued, unfazed. Or nearly unfazed. His aura deflected the worst of her heated burst, but the intensity of her attack was beginning to conduct itself to the outer fringes of his aura, marking it with a dull red glow. Uncomfortably, he noticed that he was beginning to sweat.
He realised it was a sign of vulnerability. Fuming, he swore in rapid fairy. Thyme knew he had no hope to best this massive creature in battle, but he sensed her irritation at his activities, and was thoroughly enjoying niggling at her ponderous form. Unlike Lily, who endowed his actions with nobility of purpose, and loyalty to his friends, Thyme admitted that at least half of his motivation in attacking the dragon was for the sheer enjoyment of it. Overconfident, voracious, and of a bullying disposition, the dragon possessed a temperament that brought out the worst in Thyme, and gave him every excuse for doing his worst.
Thyme flared briefly, blinding Direygayn once again, then almost disappearing from her vision as he reappeared in a mask of sludge, stench, and fumes. It was Spigot who attacked her now, leaving her momentarily confused, and wondering what had become of the beaming gnat who had shot sparks off her rear. Wary, she paused briefly, slitted eyes rapidly scanning the skies. Where was it? Had she unknowingly destroyed it? She jumped as a zap of pain jolted her beneath one of her scales. The nasty jolt, though small, ached like a splinter in the tender underskin of a fingernail.
*
Edwin Murphy sat up abruptly in bed - his heart pounding, and the dry taste of terror still lingering in his throat. For several weeks now, his sleep had been riddled with dream memories of fairies and flying horses, little people and gargoyles. And a quiet guilt over the plight of four people, who were no longer quite human.
He didn't know exactly why he felt the guilt. Maybe it was his past, coming back to haunt him, but he didn't think so. He'd made the wrong choice once, but now things were different. If there was one lesson he'd learned from Peter and Katy, Trevor and Mari, it was that whatever life threw your way, you did the best you could with what you had.
It was never too late to start over, and develop a conscience. The nulling void he used to live in, though, had been much more pleasant. Having a conscience interrupted his sleep. Because his conscience believed that they'd abandoned their new friends to their fate. To yassels, to hyphae - to trying to survive here, where their very existence seemed to draw enemies out of the woodwork. He'd never pried deeply into the origins of some of Peter's and Trevor's "friends", because he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. Envy again, because he suspected the mutant humans could venture where he could not? Maybe. Or, maybe, I just don't want to stretch my rationality too far, because I have to know that, despite my new "gift", I'm still sane.
Tonight had been different. These were not dreams of the past, but of what was to be - soon. He didn't know how to explain it, even to himself, but there was a certain "flavour" to his visions, that went beyond the texture of a dream.
He pulled Paul Gatley's private number out of his wallet. I hope the good doctor doesn't have me committed for this, he thought.
"Gatley." Paul didn't pick it up until the fourth ring. His voice was hoarse with sleep.
"Paul, this is Edwin Murphy." The phone clunked as Gatley dropped it. Edwin grinned. Poor Guy, Ed thought. After what he's been through with his friends, he's probably anticipating the worst. Ed's face grew serious. Which this might very well be.
"Sorry, Ed - I dropped the phone." Paul sighed loudly. "I don't suppose this is just a friendly hello?" he ventured hopefully. At Ed's silence - as he tried to figure out how he'd explain his vision - Paul said, "I didn't think so. What's on your mind?"
"Fire." Ed decided to stop worrying about how it sounded, and infect his words with some of the urgency his dream had given him. "Fire burning Katy's and Peter's house to the ground."
"Jesus!" Paul exclaimed. "Do you know when?"
"Soon - real soon. Maybe even tonight."
"Thanks, Ed. Look, I'll get out there and warn them -"
"Wait, Paul! There's more -" Ed hesitated, while Paul waited tensely at the other end. "About the source of the fire -"
"Lightning? A bad electrical connection?" Paul prodded. Thinking of some of Mari's friends, he added, "Someone playing with matches?"
"None of the above. I saw - and I swear to God I wasn't dreaming, Paul - some kind of monster."
Paul remembered Mader and shuddered. "Like Mader?" he asked.
"Worse. Paul, don't have me committed for this - but I think it was a dragon."
Paul sounded incredulous. "A dragon?!"
"Yeah, Paul. A fire-breathing dragon."
Paul snorted with laughter. "Ed, you're pulling my leg -"
"Dammit, Paul!" Ed yelled into the phone. "Do you think I would've risked a call like this unless I thought it was true? I may have visions, but I'm not nuts! It's a goddammed dragon, Paul - and it's hungry! Do you get what I'm saying?"
"All too well. Look, I'm going out there - but I'll have to stop by the hospital - to get some stuff for burns - and whatever -"
Ed knew Paul was thinking about severe bleeding, severed limbs - and the thought made him sick. I hope those people know how lucky they are to have a friend like him. It wasn't the first time he'd thought of them as lucky. He just hoped they'd stay that way.
"I might be there ahead of you, then. I - we'll - do what we can."
Paul was momentarily silent. "You're going out there?" His voice held shock.
"What - you think you have a monopoly on friendship, Paul?" Ed asked sarcastically. "Besides," he added flippantly, trying to calm the nervous flutters toe-dancing in his gut, "I've always wanted to see one of those things."
Ed sensed Paul was smiling. "Just don't get too close to it. Our friends' recuperative powers are much greater than yours."
"All their powers are much greater than mine. But, I'll be careful. See you soon."
After Paul had hung up, Ed punched in Vicki Kojan's number. Horace picked up the phone. "Ed, is that you?"
Ed was momentarily taken aback. "Are you and Vicki -?"
"You're the psychic, Ed," Horace responded grumpily, obviously embarrassed. "You tell me."
Ed grinned. "It's about time someone took you on, you surly old goat. Poor Vicki."
"Lucky Vicki," Horace responded. "Hey, look - Kelwin doesn't know yet."
"And you're worried he'll give you both hell - right?"
"Right. By the way, we're ready to leave, and Kelwin's on his way. We'll be ready when you are."
"I think Kelwin's response will surprise you, but - it's none of my business. I guess I don't need to ask how you knew I'd be calling -"
"Vicki, of course. What's the emergency, anyway?"
"Horace, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. Not in a million years."
*
Katy had been terrified that the dragon would reach them while she and Peter lay trapped, with no room to manoeuvre, and no hope of escape. Or that the fire, which was torching the old wood of her small house, would sweep through this underfloor area as well, catching them in its path. Now, however, these what-could-be's became secondary, as the reality of the situation crept in on a last breath of thickened air.
I can't breathe. Immediately, Katy's heart started to pound, and the breaths that she should have conserved demanded release. She gasped, realising that she'd used up some small reserve of air, and that her source of supply was quickly being sealed by sifting dirt from above. Her hand tightened painfully onto Peter's, her nails sinking into his hand as she clenched him in panic.
Behind her eyes, the brightness of flaring reds and oranges told her that her body was making its own response to her panic - reacting in self-preservation. No! She fought it down, dissipating it along the dark crannies of her prison. To release it now would be to place Peter between the explosive burst, and God-knows-how-many tonnes of debris - leaving him as just so much refuse in the midst of the rubble. I can't! she screamed inside.
Don't let Peter know. Her blackening thoughts surfaced in a mind that was quickly becoming confused. Don't let him know how scared you are -
In Peter's head, a swirling haze of purple and black seeped in, gradually resolving into the words - Love you -
*
Don't leave me! The echoes reverberated, throbbing out a migraine message into the bog of Katy's oxygen-starved tissues.
*
I don't want to, Peter -
The message poured into his mind - the tail end of it trailing out in a hopeless sigh, that lodged his heart somewhere in the pit of his stomach. Peter wriggled frantically, straining to push aside the planks and rubble that pinned him down. I have to get her out of there! his brain screamed. Katy's nails still dug into him - her own struggle and terror unknowingly being transmitted to Peter's clenched fingers.
Then, Katy's hand went limp - and Peter lost control. "No!" The sound of his anguish ripped the air, half-deafening him within the close confines, and bringing down more rubble to seal them in. Sweat poured off him, and his jaw set in grim determination. No healing stone - no healing stone - The words ran through his head in a terrifying litany. Never had he valued that precious crystal as much as he did at that moment.
The seconds ticked along with his pounding heart, as he fought for control. If he was to have a hope of saving her, it lay in the inner strength that was hidden in his core. The stifling heat was nearly unbearable now, filling him with a roasting warmth that made a mockery of the cold vein of ectoplasm centred somewhere within his person. It's there, he told himself firmly. You just have to find it -
But how?! Unwanted, the image of Katy lying dead crept into his head, making him gag bile. Katy! his mind screamed.
His eyes were closed against the influx of dirt and drifting debris, leaving a dark and empty screen for his panic to write upon. More dirt suddenly began to sift down one side of his face, and a demanding brightness blotted out the nightmare pictures playing behind his closed lids. The warmth burnt its way into his brain, making its own demands upon his reason. Lily! Peter forced his lids to open against the grit.
*
But, Lily's agitation only enforced Peter's fears. "Do something!" he pleaded, choking on the dirt and plaster chips, smoke and sulphur fumes.
Lily took a deep breath, then squeezed her eyes closed and formed her tiny hands into fists. Concentrating, she hovered as close to Peter's face as the rubble would let her; becoming lost in some effort of her own. Before Peter's squinting gaze, the edges of her aura oozed unevenly outward, drawing closer until his face was neatly immersed within the radiance of her brilliant light.
There was no smoke here. Only a sweetness that mocked the fearful confusion of the flames, the dirt, and his disintegrating surroundings. Lily -
I am here, Peter Trevick.
Katy -
Lily struggled with her own fears and confusion, fighting to hold him wreathed within her aura. You must save her, Peter! Lily's voice rang firmly in his ears, but Peter wasn't fooled - he could sense the desperation in her tone. You must seek your calm - your power - and use it - The effort of extending her light was draining her, and her words became faint. Save her, Peter! For us all -
Peter knew that the artificial calm Lily was offering him wouldn't last. Already, his thoughts were fingering that river of cold that ran like whitewater froth through the rocky stonework of his conscious mind. He'd avoided it since he'd used it in the Sylybin world, not wanting to ever again touch the chilling flow that had nearly cost him his life, his body, his personality.
But he touched it now. Compressed it in a mental grip that squeezed it to the surface of his tissues. And - in the gasping heat, Peter's sweating body suddenly grew ice cold.
*
Lily drew back. Still agitated, she shifted in patternless flight, her light burning feebly now - a subdued beacon.
*
"Is the ceiling in here getting shorter, or is it just my imagination?" Trevor muttered as he dropped flat to continue in a worm-like wriggle. Mari sighed at the question, but said nothing. Her own nerves were screaming - something was terribly wrong with Katy and Peter. Trevor's panic was taking the form of a nearly non-stop commentary as he first crawled, then pulled himself across the ground. He was oblivious to the fact that he no longer had any skin left on his elbows or knees.
If only I knew what's wrong! The thought bounded like a jackrabbit through Mari's head. Her brain snapped with the fearful crunch of dragon teeth on frail human forms, and she gulped as visions of dog-bite victims chased those of shark attack, and lion maulings. She visualised their massive adversary, realising that none of her mental images could match the horrific combination of the dragon's jagged teeth and searing breath. What'll I do? she thought frantically, her hand tightening on a rough chunk of concrete, as though - by wishing alone - she could change it into her lost healing crystal.
*
I've got it! Triumphantly, Peter drew the viscous flow to the surface, sucking it with a vacuum demand that yanked it free of the dark recesses of his cells. The seconds were ticking away in his head, and a quick squeeze of Katy's wrist yielded only limpness in reply. Katy! his mind screamed again, but only a grim silence answered him. Panic danced into his limbs once more, but this time, he used it.
He let the ice flood go. The rising inferno temperatures of their basement prison were suddenly sliced by a chilling white, that painted frost across Peter's sweating skin. Out it poured - that freezing spillage of ectoplasm dripping its way through the cracks of Katy's rubble prison; hugging the contours of her body, and draping her like the caul of a new-born child.
Katy had never been so cold in her life - had she been aware of it. The sheath of icy fluid encasing her form fought against the breakdown of enzymes and tissues - fought against the ravages of death. At the same time, the phosphorescent outpouring flowed like the hydrologic stream it resembled, making its way through the weighted pinnings of tangled wood and debris, that crushed Peter to the ground. Acting like a lubricant on a rusty bolt, the glowing flow slipped between the bound layers, loosening the ramshackle piling. Bits and pieces of rickety flotsam - that had weighed him down - now began to slide past him, to spill upon the dirty ground.
Peter surfaced, his concentration broken. Trevor was tearing at a few smouldering planks that remained stubbornly wedged in the gap of the floor above, still effectively pinning Peter in place. As Trevor shoved debris behind him, Mari shovelled it away with both hands, working frantically to make a space for the masses of heated fragments that were still pouring in from above.
Finally, Peter's legs were free. He booted away the last of the imprisoning wood, then did a panicky pawing at the sifting sawdust and insulation that still covered Katy's shoulders and head. "Katy -" He dragged her free from her wedged position, pulling her clear of the rapidly filling gap, and into his arms. "Katy!" he said again, more urgently this time. He wiped the dirt from her face, looking for some response - something to indicate that she was still with him. Lily hovered nearby, her light spilling weakly over Katy's frozen features.
Mari tugged Trevor aside, to get her own look at their friend. She touched Katy's face, then felt for the carotid in her neck. Working rapidly, she tugged Katy from Peter's arms, and stretched her out on the dirt floor. Without hesitating, Mari started CPR, wondering how she was going to manage it with the underflooring right at her back.
Peter looked dazed. Now that the struggle to free Katy had succeeded, he was left with only the uncertainty of her survival. Without action to sustain him, his world had suddenly become impossibly bleak - as frozen as his Katy's still form.
Lily was horrified. Her own frozen moments, with the seemingly endless chill that had invaded her being, were still too recent. She shuddered in compassion, trying to force herself to touch her friend's icy skin; to seek for the life that she prayed would yet be dwelling within.
Trevor, seeing the set expression on Mari's face, in the light of Lily's aura, wriggled forward on his elbows, to take over the breathing part of her efforts. Peter, breaking out of his sleepwalker's trance, laid a hand on Trevor's shoulder, as his friend bent over Katy's still face. "No, Trev," Peter insisted quietly. "I need to -" He couldn't finish, and Trevor nodded, unable to meet his eyes.
Waiting for the pause in Mari's steady efforts, Peter took over the breathing. "Five and one," Mari said tersely.
Lily gave Katy a fairy touch, and Mari felt a tremor of response run through her. "Again, Lily!" A note of hope strengthened Mari's tone, and Peter glanced at her quickly.
Lily studied Mari's pumping efforts briefly, then moved to sit on Katy's chest, her eyes on Mari's hands. When Mari paused, so Peter could fill Katy's lungs with his own breath, Lily extended her own small hands - placing them on Katy's chest in the spot that Mari had just vacated. A spark of bright light moved from Lily's wings, down her outstretched arms, and into her fingertips. Katy twitched, and a low moan drifted from her blue lips. In a moment, Peter clasped her close to his chest, as she began to shiver violently.
Trevor, seeing Peter's face relax, reached out a hand and squeezed Mari's arm. Mari was shaking, and he realised how scared she'd been. "If you guys are through goofing around," Trevor said - clearing his throat to hide a quaver - "maybe we can get on with this dragon extermination business - "
Peter kissed Katy's cold forehead, finding comfort in the way the skin warmed under his lips. He looked at Lily, gratitude dancing in his glowing eyes. "That was one whopper of a fairy touch, Lily. I can't tell you how grateful I am." Turning to Mari, he added, "You're pretty good even without your chunk of rock, Mar."
She smiled as she took Katy's pulse, pleased to feel it growing stronger beneath her fingers. "It's nice to know that I can function without my little stone. I was starting to feel inadequate -"
Trevor squeezed her. "I get it - you felt stoned. Or maybe like you had rocks in your head. It's all crystal clear to me."
Peter grinned. "Give Trevor one little dragon, and he cracks. Ignore him, Mari - I always do."
Lily's voice was nervous, and her aura still fluctuated wildly. "I fear the creature above -" her eyes looked ominously upwards, "- will not wait much longer to satisfy her hunger." She stared at them, willing them to take her warning seriously. "She will satisfy it with one, or all of you, if she can." Lily's voice became pleading. "Make haste, or all will be lost."
"Better hasty than tasty," Trevor emphatically agreed. "Time to make tracks." He pointed to a glimmer of black smoothness that was stirring its own cloud of dirt as it moved in their direction. "Something nasty's headed this way."
***
Chapter Three
Thyme had nearly forgotten his friends, in the sheer joy of irritating this fractious, sharp-scaled behemoth. He had sensed the strong vein of egoism that fed her actions as soon as he'd approached her, and it brought out the worst in his personality. Thyme would never realise that, for his size, his pride dwarfed her own.
At the moment, he was measuring his success on the number of quill-sharp digs he could make in that oh-so-sensitive skin under her scales, counting it a victory if he made her quiver, and beside himself with glee if she jolted in pain. He knew that Spigot was nearly invisible to this massive dragon, who would refuse to recognise something so sludgy and small, as anything but a minor annoyance. Spigot felt obligated, therefore, to be as major an annoyance as possible.
*
A black streak knifed swiftly through the maze-like confines of their shelter. It was Peter's first glimpse of the Thing that had so terrified Mari. "What is it?" he hissed.
"Something black with green spots." Trevor watched the Thing nudge, then circumvent, one of the concrete piles supporting the house. At the nudge, the concrete - bearing house and all - shifted, and Trev unconsciously shifted as well, grabbing Mari's arm and pulling her back into a corner. "It's strong, too," he whispered. "And weight is no object." Peter nodded, but made no effort to edge away. Trevor poked him. "There's nothing like dishonourable retreat, Pete. Try it - Katy isn't exactly up to running."
But Peter was intently studying the shape of their approaching enemy. "I think I know what -" he started to say, when the Thing suddenly whipped sideways across the narrow space.
Lily had been suppressing her own fears to a mere quaver, supplying her aura to aid Peter in his observations of this new unknown. Peter, responding more to her squeal, than to any impulses of his own, immediately reacted with a near-convulsive jerk. Tightening his grip on Katy's stirring form, he rolled off to the side, coming to a stop as his head hit Trevor's. Mari cringed as she listened to the thunk of skull on skull.
The black and green horror hit the first pile with a loud slap, knocking it aside like a child's toy, before moving on to the next obstacle. Peter forgot the pain in his head as he watched the arc of destruction continue, and the floor above begin to crumble down into their narrow space below. As their tiny world crumpled, so did any chances for escape. Peter's eyes turned upward, in a vain hope that their entry point might have cleared enough for them to squeeze through. And I thought this was the lesser of two evils. Which is worse - being baked, or tenderised? Neither prospect sounded very appealing.
It was Mari's turn to tug on Trevor. "Into the car!" she said.
Trevor, still holding his nose - which had been Peter's landing point - looked surprised. "De car?" he repeated, feeling stupid.
"Would you rather face that?!" Mari asked him, pointing to where the flooring had dropped, deprived of its foundation supports. It was the spot she and Trevor had been in only moments before.
"Righd - de car," Trevor agreed.
Peter had heard Mari's words, and was already working away on the mini-mountain of debris, so they could rediscover their entry hole. Maybe I should dig closer to the car.
He looked back at the piles of smouldering timber that now lay where Katy had.
Forget that brilliant plan. He went back to his tunnelling, with Trevor and Mari working behind him, to clear away the stuff he'd moved.
"Peter?" Katy said groggily.
"Here, Katy -" His smile was a quick flicker of white against the dust and char on his face.
"Where are -?" Katy began in bewilderment. Then, her skin blanched as she remembered. "Dragonville," she said hoarsely. "Right?" Peter nodded. Without further comment, she reached over to help, grabbing and shoving aside the wood and debris the others were tearing out of the way.
With a shifting of flaming sawdust, a hole suddenly appeared above their heads, and Katy felt a momentary shock as she realised there was no longer a roof of any sort on their little house - only glowing beams and hot timbers, that the dragon had flung in a spat of temper. The night's blackness was in dark contrast to the endless yellow-orange glare of dancing flames. Groggy still, she stopped digging when she felt the pressure of Peter's hand on her arm. She had a brief glimpse of stars, as Peter pulled her upwards - then the bite of sparks and cinders on her belly, as she slid across the char.
"The car's behind you, Katy!" Peter yelled encouragingly. He pushed her through the hole, and she suddenly found herself shoved head-on into the arm of the old wing chair. She flinched, lurching in alarm as the flames set her hair alight.
Terrified, she slapped at the flames; burying that side of her head in a pile of ash to smother the last of the embers. Peter, alarmed by her response, panicked, and alternated between trying to shove her further upwards, and trying to climb out next to her. In desperation, she lurched to one side to keep from getting a faceful of flaming chair.
"Climb in the window!" That was Mari's voice. It held a note of panic, too, but to Katy, it sounded like the voice of reason.
What window?
Of course. The car. They wanted her to climb in the car window. Katy looked in dismay at the pile of flaming planks, smouldering fabric, and live coals that lay between her and the car. The boards that had blocked Peter's view down below, were jutting, in flaming orange pick-up-stick fashion, out the top. Katy took a heated breath, gritted her teeth, and bashed the first board aside. When she'd cleared a few away, she reached for the window, to pull herself out of the others' way.
And instantly recoiled at the painful contact with the heat-dulled metal. The paint had bubbled in places, exposing dulled silver.
The sharpness of the burn shunted out the last traces of vagueness that had cotton-wooled her thinking - the vagueness that had kept most of her fear to a dull background noise. Jolted into alertness, a dragon roar throbbing in her ears, the light in her eyes focused, pulsing now in time to her heart. With fear bounding to the surface, so did her awareness of the others - her friends, still caught below the floor, with the roof collapsing upon them, and God-knows-what breathing down their backs.
*
Peter gave Katy's legs another nudge - uncertain if, in her present state, she understood their yelled encouragement. Into the car! his thoughts pushed her, fearful that the dragon would have her in its teeth before she could respond. "I should have gone first," he said worriedly. He'd latched his arms around her legs, intent on dragging her back inside, when Trevor and Mari edged in closer.
There wasn't a whole lot of "down" to tug her into.
Trevor, understanding, his eyes vigilantly watching their flank, tried to reassure him. "She'll be all right, Pete."
Another section of the foundation came down, leaving the boards at their backs cracking and groaning.
Mari jumped. Don't let it be that Thing, she prayed. Somehow, the thought of the foundation collapsing of its own accord was more acceptable than the awful feeling of being hunted in the dark. Recalling the writhing mass that had sliced their way, Mari wanted to close her eyes, to wish it away. If you die, she tried to tell herself, it doesn't make any difference if it's because a roof falls on your head, or you're eaten -
She'd almost convinced herself. Her head ached from staring through the dirt clouds at the debris behind them. She forced her eyes away, turning instead to the hole - where Katy lingered half in, and half out. Impatience wriggled up and down her spine, fed by the fear that refused to be completely dispelled. Has it really been such a short time? she wondered. Hurry, Katy! she urged silently. Fear, that she might be urging her friend into the dragon's mouth, kept her from saying the words aloud.
Just then, something touched Mari's ankle and grasped it, yanking it to one side. Mari screamed in terror, desperate to escape - her nails digging into the unknown Creature that threatened to drag her down.
*
Katy heard Mari scream, and the echo of her terror sent Katy's own heart hammering. Katy forced her fingers to grip the heated metal - cringing as it burned her hands. She pulled herself upwards, trying desperately to clear the way for those she cared most about.
*
Direygayn saw Katy emerge. With a crackling of unused scales, the dragon's jaws widened into an obscene parody of a smile, and her head swayed on her snakelike neck. Her tongue rasped outwards, in a quick tasting of the air - a connoisseur's appreciation of long-awaited prey. She froze, and her muscles tightened and bulged, as she prepared to strike.
*
Spigot, caught up in his sport, didn't detect the change at first. His initial reaction, when the dragon stopped responding to his little tortures, was annoyance, and a determination to up the pressure of his activities to some really serious torture tactics. Accordingly, he yanked and ripped at dragon scales, pleasure brightening his aura from sludgy brown to dull purple. A scale came free, with a resounding snap, and Spigot flung it to the wind, watching it drift in fallen-leaf fashion to the ground below.
Spigot poked the exposed portion of soft dragon skin, expecting at least a mild response for his efforts. Nothing. Fuming now, he zapped the tender spot, pleased when he saw the muscles tighten in response. Satisfied, he yanked another scale - grunting at the effort, but pleased at the result. The dragon was frozen in place, her muscles bulging in her effort to remain still - to make the pain go away. As the second dragon scale drifted down, Spigot glimpsed the dragon's face. It was set and tense, with every feature frozen, save that divided tongue of hers. Spigot drew back slightly, watching the action of that amazing tongue, which writhed and gyrated, each tip curving independently of the other. He stared, lost in momentary envy. If only I had a tongue like that, he thought, working out the logistics in his magic, to give Spigot this additionally impressive feature. Drawing back still further, to fully appreciate the workings of that amazing taste and smell machine, Spigot suddenly froze.
It was Direygayn's eyes that told him. Or, maybe, it was the feature he least expected to see upon her face - the one that, like in an artist's muddied paint splotch, he could only see clearly upon pulling away from her enormous bulk.
She was smiling.
His eyes followed the direction of her look, and he suddenly understood. It was not his attack, as painful as it must have been, that had caused her to twitch and freeze. Her focus had changed, and his senses warned him - only one thing mattered to the dragon now. He realised she'd blocked out all thoughts of pain in her efforts to appease her smouldering hunger. The dragon's concentration was caught and held by her prey, who - to Spigot's eyes - suddenly appeared as small and defenceless as a baby seal before a ravaging shark.
The dragon's head began to sway, and Spigot realised the attack was only seconds away. With a flaring of light, he flew straight at the dragon's eye, a glaring dart of red-eyed fury.
*
The Creature grabbed her once more - this time, capturing her hand in a strong, hot grip. Mari screamed again, booting and kicking at the Thing that held her. I can't bear to look! she thought frantically, squinting her eyes shut in terror, even as she raked her nails over her attacker.
Trevor moaned. "Watch the family jewels, Mar," he begged.
Mari froze at his words. Risking a peek, she opened one eye - to see Trevor holding her ankle. "I didn't want you to get squished," he said sheepishly, indicating the rubble lying where her foot had been. Lowering his voice, he added, "The next time I start to attack you, Mari, I'll know better than to start with your ankle."
*
It'd be simple, if it weren't so hot. Katy didn't know which hurt more: the heated metal on the window sill, or the burning wood she was still trying to move out of the way. She was leaning over the debris now, using one hand to balance herself so she wouldn't fall face-first onto the hot rubble. The pain in the hand in contact with the car had reached searing point, but there was no way she could clamber over the debris without hanging on to something. If the outside's that hot, what's the inside going to be like? Katy didn't dare linger over the thought. She just hoped there weren't any of those lethal plastics in this car, that could kill them with the fumes.
She damned the hot planks that tried to block her way, and the sifting ash that filled her eyes. But, most of all, she damned the weakness that made getting to, and through, the window such an horrendous effort. She felt like the cork in the bottle, blocking her lover's and friends' hopes for escape. Tears ran down her face as she shoved another glowing timber out of her way.
Her concentration faltered at Mari's scream, which she felt as much inside as out, but it etched a fever of anxiety into her brain, and made her work faster, ignoring the burning smell of her own hot skin, and drying up the tears that had sizzled on the hot surfaces below. Her hands were leaking colour now - reacting to her pain and fear - but it did nothing to insulate her from the heat.
I wish I had some of your ice now, Peter. Ice. Ice. Ice. Ice. She ran the words through her brain, fortifying herself with a vision of cold that would let her ignore the messages her screaming nerves were sending to her brain. Katy leaned over the orangy timbers, feeling like the main entree at a barbecue. Getting her elbows on to the rim of the car window, she started to pull free of the hot debris, that Peter had been trying so hard to keep clear of her legs and feet. Suddenly, she felt the heat of dragon breath at her back.
Katy twisted, to stare death in the face. Teeth - tall, pointed, and painfully sharp - dripped bubbling saliva. Katherine knew from the amount of boiling drool how eagerly the dragon awaited her.
There was no sense of wonder left - no awe for dragon lore or dragon magic in the dreadful snapping crunch of the dragon's jaws - in the oven-like outpouring of dragon breath. Katy stared - momentarily hypnotised by the enormity of what faced her - caught up in the horror of dismemberment by those gnashing teeth. How closely they fit together, she thought, the very irrelevance of the detail helping to stabilise her.
But then the dragon's tongue darted out, and Katy stared at it in terror. She was vaguely aware that Peter was desperately clawing at debris - alternating between attempts to yank her back into a space that their bodies and the crumbling wreckage had already filled, and trying to get to her - to stand by her side - to fight with her. She could hear his voice - and Trevor's - and Mari's - but they were background sounds, that had no meaning under the seduction of the serpent's movements. Katherine stared as the tongue danced toward her - seductively writhing in an ages-old rhythm that some part of her instinctively recognised. Then the tongue split - catching her by surprise - and her startled gasp turned into a nearly sensuous sigh, as it reached out to touch her.
It swept across her, setting the ragged fragments of her shirt smouldering, and raking branding iron marks across her ribs as the dragon tasted her blue-green skin. Katherine dangled there - rigid with pain but unable to react - caught up in the dragon's potent lure - in the ancient predator cunning that had taken centuries to perfect.
*
Thyme hit Direygayn's pupil like a rock out of a slingshot. Not satisfied with this direct assault, he honed his wing sparks to a single shaft of searing power. To the dragon, it was as though a white hot poker had suddenly been stabbed into her staring eye.
*
"Katy!" Peter yelled at her, desperation in his voice. Why can't she hear me!? He ripped at the weakened boards, trying to widen the narrow hole. Katy's legs blocked his way, and he cursed himself again for pushing her through first. At least I should have been there - with her - when that Thing decided to strike.
A shaft of light blinded his view as Lily pushed through the new hole he'd made in the floor above. Left with the milky white shadow of her passing, to momentarily obscure his vision, he began once more to try to yank Katy back into their hidey-hole.
What hidey-hole? Trevor and Mari were crowding him now - Mari still nervously watching for movement in the wreckage behind them, her eyes wide and frightened. Only a contortionist, who could fold up on herself, would stand a chance of fitting in the narrow space that was left.
Katy! Peter tried to reach her - forcing his mind to form convincing words out of the jumbled patterns running through his brain. It's a simple thing - he started out coaxing, but the glimpse he'd had of those terrifying teeth got the better of him - Damn it, Katy! Get into that stinking car! The loudness of it bombarded Katy's thoughts, breaking a chink in some barrier the dragon had raised in her brain.
Move, Katy! Peter screamed inside her head. Cringing, he punctuated his words with a sharp pinch, digging his nails into the soft skin on her calf. Wake up!
At the same moment, Lily zapped Katy's neck, sending pain flashing up nerve endings into her skull. Katherine shook her head, suddenly seeing Lily at her side. Vaguely, Katy looked down, feeling the grasp of Peter's hand on her leg. "Peter?" she mumbled.
The memory of danger hit her with a whip-like snap - a confusing swirl of spike-like teeth - and terror - and her friends' horror pouring through her vulnerable defences, like water through a sieve. Katy suddenly recognised her own drift from reality - and returned fully from where the dragon's spell had sent her.
Desperately, her eyes swept the hallway, searching for something that could straddle the hot timbers in their path. Spying a piece of broken gib-board dangling from what used to be a wall, she yanked it free, and plopped it across the jutting planks.
It'll have to do. Katy leaned across the gib, and tugged her legs out of the hole.
Adrenaline was coursing through her now, feeding her terror. Fully out in the open, she felt so terribly exposed. Her breath came out with a shudder of relief, as she saw there was no longer a dragon tongue to strip her skin, nor dragon breath to sear the moisture from her eyes and mouth. Raising an arm above her eyes, to shield her face from a heated blast, she warily sought the Thing, that only moments before, had so actively sought her.
Her eyes focused on the sharp light of a fairy's aura, speeding away from what must once have been the dragon's face. Thyme! The dragon had coiled backwards, retreating into itself in response to pain. Katherine stared for a moment - trying to find her attacker in that dark, undefined slickness of heated tissue. Suddenly, the sluglike creature swayed, scales lifting and shuttling along its length, with an oddly clicking shuffle. The eyes opened with a silent swiftness that made Katy arch backwards in surprise. As the cool night air poured into the dragon's wounded eye, the great beast winced, clawed at the now tightly-closed orb, then used that serpentine tongue to lick and soothe away the pain.
*
Lily peered closely at the puckered marks across Katherine's ribs, shaking her head in dismay, but saying nothing. Floating upward into Katy's face, she hovered there to urge her human friend, "Hurry now, Katherine. The Creature has tasted you -"
Lily stopped mid-warning, twisting to look skyward - a sudden squeal catching her attention. Was all well with Thyme? His high-pitched fairy trill of triumph echoed in her sensitive ears. Lily's eyes brightened, and a smile flickered across her face, as she sensed Thyme's elation at besting the gargantuan.
Spinning back toward Katy, Lily continued, "The Creature's hunger will burn for you, now." She saw the expression on Katherine's face, and her own small features grew sad. "I can sense this, Katherine. She will not rest until she has tasted you once more -" Katy nodded, suddenly too weary to speak, at the implication of Lily's words.
With a sigh, Katy latched onto the car door, and clambered in through the window. Any pain she felt now seemed inconsequential against the threat of becoming dragon fodder. Katy reached out her hand to Peter, but he'd already bounded out of the hole, and was balancing on the sliding piles of ash and debris. "Show-off!" she muttered.
Peter looked at her face, trying to sense how she was feeling. "If you've got it, flaunt it," he said, smiling. "I'm flaunting." His head tilted, as he studied her. "You okay?" he asked.
"Just peachy." He started to slip, and Katy stretched out her arm, so he could balance his sliding feet. He caught her hand and held it, then saw her flinch as he touched the burn.
Peter briefly studied her palm, cringing in dismay. "Ouch. Is it bad?"
She yanked it back. "Only when you play with it." She cleared her throat, changing the subject. "Did I ever tell you how cute you look coming out of holes?"
Peter's gaze had shifted to their adversary. Now his eyes turned back to her, glinting as he considered her words. His smile changed to a leer as he replied, "Many times, Katy-my-love. But it's going into holes that I like the best -" He reached down a hand - first to Mari, then to Trevor. Katy leaned out, steadying Mari with her right hand.
The metal on the car was cooler now, but still hot to the touch. As Katy leaned out the window, she knew that the heat against her ribs should have hurt - yet, instead, it seemed to soothe the ache from the dragon's touch - the ache that lingered in her chest. It's almost like a purifying, she thought. To cauterise the wound. To cleanse where the monster touched me -
The dragon's scales rustled once more, and a throbbing rumble sounded a return to activity. Katy scooted across to the other side of the seat, to make room for the others. "In you go!" Peter gave Mari a quick shove through the window, which landed her headfirst in Katy's lap.
"Your turn, Pete," Trevor urged.
"No - you, Trev! Hurry!" Peter said, looking at the shifting giant behind them.
Lily fluttered wildly, looking first at one, then the other. "You will be eaten soon!" she squealed.
Katy'd had enough. She climbed into the back seat, then leaned out to grab Peter's shirt, tugging him toward the car. Bracing herself with her feet against the car door, she pulled backwards with all of her strength, yanking him over and through the window - using leverage, and his own weight, to topple him forward. With a thump, he landed on her chest, with his feet hanging out the window. Peter looked slightly shocked. "Now's not the time, Katy-my-love," he whispered, giving her a swift kiss.
"Shut up, you fool," she said. "I'm saving you."
Mari had tried to follow Katy's example. With a wild tug, she yanked Trevor forward, bringing his head in contact with the heavy metal door. He hit with a sickening crunch, and Mari released him in surprise. "Oh, no!" she gasped. "Trevor!" Getting up on her knees, she leaned out, trying to keep him from slumping into the hot debris beneath the window.
*
The dragon shifted, and a heated cloud of dragon exhaust broke over them. Peter turned over, arching his back to slide back out the window. He grabbed Trevor under both arms, hefting him up, even with the sill. "Pull him in!" he told Mari and Katy through gritted teeth. They had Trevor balanced on the rim, when Peter gave a powerful thrust from behind, shoving him in the rest of the way.
Trevor groaned, rubbing first his head, and then his rear end, where Peter had none-too-carefully pushed him into the car. "My dignity hurts," he complained groggily. "I just can't remember which end it's at -"
*
The dragon swooped downwards, determined not to make the same mistake twice - this time, she would satiate the ravages of hunger, before enjoying the enticement of her prey. There would be ample time to savour the other changelings later.
She was nearly at Peter's chest, opening her mouth for a quick and fleshful snap of powerful jaws, when a shield of multi-coloured light flared in her face. Flinching, for light had caused her pain once before, Direygayn hesitated.
*
Peter threw himself sideways. Rolling over in a movement born of panic, he flung, pushed, and thrust aside wood fragments and debris, using his hands, feet, elbows, and head to plough a path away from the dragon's jaws. Slithering along like the tongue that was just popping out to chase him, Peter scuttled across the hot hood and flung himself to the other side, then frantically clawed through another mass of debris, in an effort to squeeze his way in through the far window.
*
Katy's light barrier shattered, exploding in shards that flew outwards before dissolving into the night air. Katherine gasped, stunned by the speed and force of the dragon's thrust, that could catch the rays of her light energies, and crush them with a blow.
*
Direygayn's tongue tried to follow Peter through the far window, and Mari grappled with it, as Trevor fought to pull Peter the rest of the way into the car. Mari jerked back, shocked at how contact with the disgusting, drooling member seared her skin; and sought frantically for a weapon of some kind. Finally, she spotted Jordan's gumboots lying on the floor. Shoving her fist into one like an oversized glove, she pounded on the tip of the dragon's tongue, grinding it against the doorframe, then pummelling it with all the force she could muster. With a roar of angry pain, and a whip-like snap, the sinuous appendage withdrew, leaving only a steaming trail of slime to mark its passing.
*
Lily threw herself into the battle. She saw what the dragon had done to Katy's magic, and it confirmed what she had already suspected - that these human friends were no match for this hungry giant. Following Thyme's example, she darted for the monster's eyes, intent on deterring Direygayn from her formidable hunt.
But the dragon was anticipating her move. Unlike Thyme, who hid himself in Spigot's scungy protection, Lily glowed brightly - her nervous energy causing her aura and wings to flare more brilliantly than ever. As she flew in a swift line toward the creature's eye, a clawed foot flung her to one side, intercepting her movements in a rapid pawing motion. Lily went flinging end over end. To the watchers in the car, it was as though her aura had suddenly become a bobbing lantern, winging away into the night.
*
Thyme swooped low, to intercept Lily's dizzying flight, and lift her back into the skies. "Lily," he said, his voice chastising, "that's not how it is done -"
Lily was indignant. "Not done, Thyme?! Conserve your words, Fairy!" she said angrily. "Our friends are very grateful for my protection." Her rebuke did nothing to change the glint of excitement that lingered in his eyes. Annoyed, she told him firmly, "This is not a game, Thyme."
Laughing, he reached over and pinched her right buttock - a human gesture he had seen, and greatly admired. Lily smacked his hand. "Not a game, Lily?" he said gleefully. "Of course, it is a game!"
She was frowning now. Thyme tangled his aura with hers, seeing how her hot golden glow turned softly pink. "Lily," he coaxed. "Games can be won - but first, you need to learn how to play." He moved closer, so his skin was practically touching hers. "I will teach you -"
Lily refused to look at him. "Humph!" she said, watching the dragon stir once more. Then, without a word, she reached back, slipping her small hand into his.
*
"What now? Brilliant ideas, anyone?" Trevor tried to sound casual, but as the dragon's eyelids lifted, in a swift, silent gesture, the "anyone" came out with a squeak. Those brilliantly green eyes, shot with small darts of flaming red, seemed to be staring straight into his. His brain told him that she couldn't see him clearly - as lost as they all should have been on the shadowed floor of Jordan's car - but something in her direct gaze told him otherwise. There was just too much intense purpose in that look. The dragon was not only studying them - she was actively planning her next move. The hand that Trevor placed on Mari's shoulder was shaking. He cleared his throat. "Anything short of brilliant, probably won't work."
"I wonder how strong the framework is." Peter pounded a fist against the roof, feeling it give under the blow. "I hope it's stronger than the ceiling."
Mari jumped at the metallic clang. "Katy," she said, half pleadingly, "can I take a look at those burns?"
Mari couldn't see Katy's face, from her huddled position on the floor next to Trevor, but she could hear the smile in Katy's voice. "Need something to take your mind off all this, Mari?" Katy asked.
"In a word: yes."
"I don't mean to be negative, but it would probably be a waste of time, Mari," Katy said gently. "I'm sure Trevor can think of something to pass the time."
"Speaking of Trevor," Peter interrupted. "Isn't it time for one of those 'mind-over-matter' stunts you've all told me so much about?"
"Easy to say - hard to do," Trevor said sourly. "Don't you think I'd use it if I could?"
"Hey, look - if you could use it on me, then you can use it on anything -"
"I didn't use it on you. I used it on Jarrod Demascar, who just happened to sort of look like you sometimes. And I didn't use it because I wanted to. I just lost my temper."
"Isn't the thought of being dragon munchies enough to make you just a teensy-weensy bit angry?" Peter asked.
"Bees!" Katy said suddenly.
"Even if they stung him," Peter said with exaggerated patience, wondering what was wrong with her, "I don't think Trevor would react the way we want him to."
"No!" Katy said, exasperated.
"Bees and birds!" Mari exclaimed, understanding what Katy was thinking about.
Trevor gave her a squeeze. "Any other time I'd be delighted - but not now! I'm sorry, Mari," he said, trying to let her down gently.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Katy complained. "Think! You two have talents beyond your little icy flash, and that mind-over-matter trick. Don't you remember the bees, Peter? And you, Trev - at the hospital - when Peter brought the butterflies and you called on the birds -"
Peter's eyes grew bright. "You're right!" he said excitedly. "Trevor has a way with dogs, too -"
Mari was beginning to feel hopeful. "Should I take offence at that, Peter?" she ventured. Trevor gave her hand a squeeze, following it with a smile. She asked him, "Do you also have a knack for controlling dragons?"
"I wish," Trevor said. "I'll have to settle for enticing damsels in distress." He gave her a quick kiss, before kneeling to peer over the seat at Peter and Katy. "What do you think, Pete?"
"I'll call for the bees, if you'll summon whatever you can." He closed his eyes, then opened them again, moving away from Katy. "Correction. I'll wake up the bees as soon as Katy moves her hand. I can't think when you're that close to me, Katy-my-love."
Katy, looking slightly embarrassed, quickly moved the hand that was resting on his lap. "I didn't know you thought with that part, Bozo," she said, under her breath.
"I heard that," Peter whispered back. "'Bozo?'" he repeated, grinning at her. To Trevor, he said, "Maybe we can distract the monster long enough to make a getaway."
"The getaway would be easier if Zylon and Symmerley were here," Mari said quietly.
Katy was looking out at the thick, leathery wings, and the cunning look in Direygayn's eyes. "I don't know, Mari," she said worriedly. "Even an esquior would be hard put to outdistance something like that." Katy searched the skies. The thought of the esquiors had put her in mind of the fairies. "Where are Lily and Thyme?" she asked with concern.
Mari drew closer to the window. "If they had any sense, they'd be halfway home by now," she said. "But, for our sakes, I certainly hope they aren't."
***
Chapter Four
Direygayn attuned herself to the nervous energies of her prey, enjoying how they grew restless under her watchful eyes. The delays in acquiring sustenance provoked her already irritable disposition. Irascible that a task so small should take so much time - and make such demands upon her person - she fought back the impulse to annihilate these creatures, and be done with it.
Patience was not something she had ever possessed in great measure. Though she was not, perhaps, as gargantuan as the Shimmer, she was yet possessed of sufficient strength and cunning to achieve any goals she'd set for herself. Her instincts were both her curse and her advantage - the confused genetic pooling of many worlds made her both fallible and wise. At the moment, her wisdom warred with need, as she sought to set aside the desire to smash her victims, then take whatever sustenance was left. Recognising, perhaps, a few of her own fallacious instincts, she waited briefly, to study the delicious morsels waiting just below. A moment's pause might well win her these tidbits in their entirety, rather than having to scrape them off an unpleasant-tasting background.
They had minor weapons of their own. She did not equate the fairy's strike with these edible others: she had seen it merely as a by-product of an unpleasant world, like the mosquito who struck the soldier in the field, or the fly who naggingly returned to shed her eggs. It might even, perhaps, have been the backlash of her own fiery efforts - cinders floating skyward that had found their way into her exposed pupil. At any rate, her eye still smarted, but was well enough in its way - sufficient enough, at least, to serve her until she left this hellish dimension.
No, her prey had used weapons to repulse her. Minor weapons. Light and ice. Yes, she had tasted the remnants of Peter's icy tantrum, and found it not unpleasant. The array of colour, that had been a momentary barrier, was nothing. Now that she had bested it once, she would not hesitate to break through it again. No, their weapons were not formidable, unless there were some they had not yet shared. Her eyes glinted, and she scoffed at the idea. Unlikely. Blend of worlds though they may be, they yet lacked her prodigious genetic pool.
Direygayn did not want to wait much longer for her meal. It bothered her that these creatures had somehow escaped her efforts, for she was not in the mood to enjoy the chase. The outcome was, and - to her mind and experience, always had been - inevitable. So, why prolong this venture? Her jaws snapped in frustration.
They thought themselves well-hidden in the wee box. Well, she burped in sharp-tined pain, the acid fire burning through her nostrils, they are not hidden to me. Not hidden at all. Unprotected, vulnerable, and with nowhere to go. Direygayn drew closer, a smile on her face. Dinner was at hand, and about to be served.
*
The bees were angry. Peter could sense the way they fought arousal from their dark-induced rest; could feel the buzz of their disturbance matching the bee song he hummed under his breath. They were coming - he could sense that, too - and after spying the dragon's fiery light, they wouldn't need much more inducement. They would head right for the source of that light.
Trevor decided birds were a better risk than dogs. Birds, at least, would stand a flying chance of evading the monster's snapping jaws. Canines, he decided, would be more likely to become dragonburgers. Not something, he thought, that would make me very popular in Mari's eyes.
There was another thing, too. He didn't like to admit it, but his new sensitivity made him too susceptible to the feelings of other living creatures. That sensitivity could be a grand thing if you were out for a stroll, giving you a new outlook on life, but if you were intent on using said creatures for your own purposes, then watch out. Trevor didn't want to have any sacrificial offerings on his conscience. At least, the birds stand a chance, he thought. A better chance than we do.
*
Lily squirmed within the disguise Thyme had designed for her. She felt disgusted within these trappings of sifting dirt, and was certain that, outside her aura, she must smell as distasteful as she looked. Shrugging, she watched as the small movement sent layers of crud drifting down, and sighed.
Spigot studied her briefly, then turned away. She could sense the laughter bubbling up within him, and it stirred indignant feelings in her breast.
"No, Lily!" Spigot chided her, after seeing the way her aura brightened with her anger. "Not like that - like this." He darted across the sky, oozing browny-black sludge - his eyes a fiery red.
Lily nodded, unwilling to trust her voice. Imitating his actions, she darted across the small space to join him, her eyes flashing with a fury that was swiftly becoming real. But, when she reached him, all she could see in his face was admiration, and, perhaps - can it be? she thought - jealousy. "You have learned this thing very quickly," he said, but his tone held more than praise.
Lily nodded again, turning to avert her eyes. So, she thought, I do this well. I must do this very well, if Thyme has cause for jealousy. Spigot's voice broke into her thoughts. "Of course," he said, boasting, "You cannot hope to equal my prowess in disguise, Lily."
Lily considered the stench, the filth, her own discomfort, and the indignity of this disguise. She remembered Thyme's insistence on it, and his amusement at her appearance. And yet he is not happy, she thought angrily. I have done all that he requested, and now he boasts, even though he feels envy. A rare emotion trembled her wings, and her eyes flecked with reddish sparks. Very well, Thyme, she decided, the thrill of mischief exciting her senses. I will become very good at this disguise that you have developed for me. So good, in fact - her body shook with anticipation - that I will put your Spigot to shame -
Spigot saw her trembling, sensed her annoyance, and totally misinterpreted the cause. "Do not worry, Lily," he said reassuringly - but she could detect the amusement in his voice - "You will not need to disguise yourself for long; only until we have this beast within our power. As for your behaviour, you have only to follow my lead." With a self-assured swoop that bordered on a swagger, he headed off in pursuit of the dragon.
Lily hesitated only briefly. Coming after him in a plume of smoke, she shot forward, ramming him off to one side to take the lead. "Lily!?" he exclaimed, half startled, and half shocked by her reaction.
Lily turned to him, all the while emitting a repugnant aroma that gurgled and bubbled with noxious arrogance. Spigot gagged, then said again, uncertainly this time, "Lily?"
She stared at him coolly, then came close to zap him with a spark that shook him to his toes. "'Lily', nothing!" she said abruptly. "My name - you rotten dung maggot - is Dag." She was gone in an instant, off to fight the dragon, leaving behind only a trail of moisture that made him feel he was wallowing in pig swill.
Spigot stared after her briefly, sweet memories of his Lily rising to the surface. He compared it with the hell-spawned vixen who'd just zapped him. "Jeez!" he exclaimed, borrowing one of Trevor's expressions. "What have I done?!" Shaking his head, he tore off after her, easily following the trail of her sludge through the night.
*
Kelwin drove swiftly through the dark night. Edwin, seated in the front, discreetly double-checked his seat belt, before commenting, "Nice driving, Kel." He gulped, then asked conversationally, "Brakes in good shape?"
Kelwin smiled. "Don't worry, Ed. You're the one who told me, that in your last vision, we were all together -"
" - our lifeless corpses jointly strewn across the pavement?" Horace interrupted from the rear.
"- as I was saying, we were all together at Peter's place."
"Just remember, Kelwin, the reason we're going out there," Vicki said. "To try and change what could well be their future. If theirs can be changed -" she left the last hanging.
Kelwin slowed down to somewhere between sane and stupid, before completing her sentence, "- ours can, too. Sorry, guys," he said ruefully. "Sometimes, I guess I get a little cocky."
Edwin flexed his stiff fingers. He'd had white knuckles showing for the last ten minutes. "I think I made permanent fingerprints in your dashboard." He glanced at the speedometer. "Don't worry, Kel. I'll find some other place to cling to on the way back."
*
The first bee arrived, flew directly to Mari, and stung her on the hand. "Ow-w!" she complained, pulling out the stinger, and flinging bee and all out the car window.
Katy looked at her apologetically. "Peter," she said, interrupting his concentration, "your bees have arrived."
Peter paused for a moment, his eyes alight at the success of his efforts. Now, we'll see some action, he thought, grinning. Two more bees flew in through the broken window, followed by another straggler.
Katy came as close to the window as she dared, wary of Direygayn's watchful eyes. She searched the sky, hopeful that a chance for deliverance was at hand. "Are there more coming, Peter?" she asked tactfully.
The three bees made up in fury what they lacked in numbers. "Goddarn bees!" Trevor exclaimed. "Hey, somebody roll up a window. I'm trying to concentrate."
"There's nothing to roll up." Mari was pulling a stinger out of Katy's back. "Is that it?" she asked flatly. "Is that the 'great bee tactic'?"
"Mari!" Katy chided her. "At least, Peter is trying something."
"I know," Mari said, rubbing her forearm energetically. It was already beginning to swell. "I'm sorry," she offered grouchily. "It's just that I'm somewhat allergic to bee stings."
"How allergic?" Katy asked worriedly.
"I swell up and itch like mad. Normally, I just take an antihistamine - but I don't have anything like that with me," she said, her tone mildly sarcastic. The third bee buzzed her, and she ducked, wishing she could withdraw into the upholstery. "Peter! Can't you keep them under control?"
"It could be worse," a voice oozed by her ear. Mari turned to see and smell Spigot sitting on the dashboard. "You could break out in hives." His chuckle turned into a loud guffaw, and Katy was forced to avert her eyes to keep from joining him. This is hardly the time, she thought. I must be hysterical.
"I was going to say how nice it was to see you, Fairy," Mari responded, "but now I'm not so sure."
A second figure darted in through the front window, taking Spigot by surprise, and knocking him to the floor. Katy stared in confusion. "Who are -" she started to ask. Then, her senses told her what her eyes could not. "Lily?" she asked incredulously.
In answer, the figure yanked her hair, pulling out a small handful. Even Spigot looked on in dismay. Katy fought back tears, rubbing the spot where the little vixen had hurt her. "Not Lily," the creature snorted, rustling up a pungent aroma, that quickly filled the car's interior. "Dag," she said.
"Did she say 'Gag'?" Trevor asked, receiving a burning spark in the buttocks for his efforts.
"We're here to save you assholes," Dag said.
"Oh, grand!" Peter replied, earning him a dirty look from the fiery-eyed shrew. He splayed his fingers in a gesture of innocence, but Dag zapped him in the knee.
"I can make that higher next time," she threatened.
Spigot, momentarily forgetting himself, flared and lapsed out of his rebel persona, reappearing as Thyme. His expression was appalled.
Dag glanced at him, grinned in satisfaction, then flung a gobber of spit his way, before fluffing out the window.
"Thyme!" Katy said furiously. "What have you done to Lily?!"
All eyes were on him, and, to Peter's surprise, Thyme actually squirmed. "I don't know," he said, looking confused, as he wiped the spit off his face. "But I'm beginning to feel sorry for the dragon." Just then, Direygayn gave a harsh yet shrill bellow of complaint - so loud that its resonance rattled the metal of the sunken car - and that ended in a roar of sheer fury. Thyme's eyes rolled heavenward, and he sighed, before assuming his Spigot disguise once more. As he darted out the window, and the dragon bellowed again, they could hear his voice complaining, "See what I mean?"
*
"It's not invincible," Katy said, her eyes lighting up. Peter put an arm around her, while the others looked on in disbelief. Katy's expression turned to annoyance, and she shrugged off Peter's arm. "Are you all giving up? Didn't you hear the damage one small fairy was able to inflict on it?"
"I'm not giving up hope, Katy," Peter said. "I was just counting on my bee efforts to have more effect." He looked puzzled. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong."
Trevor nodded. "It's the same with me. I'm doing it exactly the way I remember, but nothing's happened."
"Maybe it's the dragon herself. Maybe she's interfering with your transmission or something," Mari offered. Like this itch is interfering with my reasoning, she thought, scratching vigorously at her shoulder.
"It's weird, though," Peter said. "I can feel the bees coming, if you know what I mean."
"I've got it!" Mari exclaimed.
"The stinger?" Trevor asked, looking at her arm and grimacing.
"No! It's the dark - " She slowed down and took a deep breath, forced her itchy body to hold still for an instant, then continued. "I once treated a beekeeper for something. I remember him saying how bees don't like to fly at night - how they'll crawl on to you, like a great moving mat, but they won't fly unless they see a light." The last came out in a near wail. At the thought of a moving mat of bees, when just one could cause her so much discomfort, Mari's hands started scratching again, almost of their own volition.
Peter groaned in dismay. "So they're on their way, all right - but they're crawling." Despair warred with amusement in his look. "That's a big help -"
"And I bet the birds are frozen in place - fighting my signal like they would a big wind," Trevor said, burying his face in his arms.
"I can help," Katy said. "I just have to give them some light - somehow."
Mari was looking out the window at the writhing dragon. Just then, a small dark entity darted out one of the giant's nostrils. Mari grimaced at the sight. "Maybe we should just go while the going's good," she suggested.
Peter decided to give it a try. He stuck one leg over the window sill, then quickly withdrew it as a furnace-hot blast descended in his direction. Falling backwards onto Katy, he yelled, "Duck!" The four of them flung themselves on the floor, cringing against the tongues of flame that curled in and through the open windows, before dissipating into the surrounding air.
"Peter," Katy said quietly, trying desperately to hold firmly to the panic that had gripped her a second before, "now!"
"'Now', what?" he asked, confused.
"'Now' for your bees, you idiot," she replied irritably. "I'm trying to stay terrified, and you're not helping -"
Peter grinned at her, and squeezed her hand, his eyes alight with amusement. "Right," he agreed. "Bees it is." Closing his eyes, he began to hum.
Katy listened to Direygayn's rumbling innards - so close now, that the vibration was rattling their hiding place. Picturing the sharp teeth, the boiling saliva, and the hellish inferno waiting to sear their skin from their bodies, her fingers lightly caressed the creases in her skin; furrows from the dragon's acidic tongue. As Peter continued his odd chanting melody, a multi-coloured swirl arose from the painful swathes in her skin, spinning and coiling within the confines of the car. Unlike her usual abrupt outpouring, this one wavered in fingers and wisps, much like the dragon fire it was arising to fight.
Peter, his concentration momentarily disrupted by the reams of bright colour billowing past his closed lids, opened one eye, even while continuing his song. Katy's efforts, which were already bringing a sweat to her brow, were directionless.
Peter wondered if his own song could help aim the wandering beams of light. With a grunt, he upped the volume of his song, humming till the rhythm echoed in his nose; humming till he felt his adenoids would burst.
It worked. With a sudden blinding flash, Katy's light focused, forming a beam of white brilliance, that streamed out into the night, catching and passing the waves of Peter's adenoidal melody, to find his bees and bring them back through the night.
*
Trevor's face was scrunched up, his eyes squinting with his efforts at concentration.
"Petrol!" Mari gasped, thinking of the sweltering heat building in the car - remembering the hot blast that had already come in through the windows.
Trevor let his features relax. "No petrol," he whispered. "Drained out long ago."
Mari nodded. "What are you doing?" she asked him.
"Trying to ride the wave of Katy's light," he said.
It was getting harder all the time. Katy, quickly becoming exhausted from the effort of projecting her light so far, was beginning to pant. Mari knew it wouldn't be long before Katy had used up her energy reserves. Reaching out, Mari gently touched her friend, offering her a little of her own strength.
Then, Mari shifted, to look out at the enormous bulk standing illuminated in its own dragon fire. Only the annoying actions of the fairies were keeping it at bay, now, and Mari guessed that their tricks would not distract the beast much longer. I can sense her giant hunger, Mari thought, shivering in spite of the heat. What an awful thing, to be able to feel the pull of her hunger - like an endless drawing pain - yet to know that we're the means of satisfying it.
She'll consume me - and the people I love best in this world. The flames danced around the dragon's legs, making the moving shadows appear like a legion of small black demons. The scales glimmered, sometimes reflecting the yellows and reds of her flaming breath - while at others, giving a hint of their green shot radiance. Mari shook her head at the surrealistic scene, finding it hard to equate her fears with the eerie beauty of the picture before her eyes. Take it seriously, Mari, she told herself, but an inner voice kept drumming away in her head: This can't really be happening.
The dragon's roar came again - this time starting as a violent burst, and ending in a gargling rumble as a fairy once more entered the giant's nose, and exited the mouth. At the same moment, another small figure darted in one massive ear, and the dragon clawed the side of her head in pain.
Spigot and Dag - Mari eyes brightened briefly, at the thought of the pristine Lily becoming the horrendous Dag - were giving it their all. Mari turned to look at Trevor, wondering whether he'd been able to hitchhike on to Katy's light, which was fading fast, like a flashlight with spent batteries. I wish you could hold me right now, Trev, she thought, staring at him.
Trevor opened his eyes, winked at her, then pulled her on to his lap. It was a tight squeeze, in the narrow space under the dashboard, but neither of them cared. "Your birds?" she asked.
Trev shrugged. His expression grew serious. "I don't know, but I think so. I have to get back to it in a moment, but first -" He pulled her to one side, so he could kiss her lips. "I needed fortifying," he explained.
Katy's light wavered once more, then went out - snuffed out like a candle, to leave a residual smoky haze that drifted away on the night air. "Phew!" she said, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.
Peter, opening his eyes to meet hers, saw how the sweat was dripping down her face. Ripping at his shirt-tail, he tore off a ragged piece, then used it to gently mop her face and neck. "Let me, Katy-my-love," he said quietly.
"If you're going to get undressed," Trevor remarked, "then I'm getting out."
"Go ahead, Trev," Peter said. "One bite of you, and the dragon'll be so sick that the rest of us can just stroll on out of here." Peter was silent for a moment, as a new thought occurred to him.
Katy was too spent to notice, but Trevor caught on right away. "Uh-uh," he said, swiftly reaching over the seat to grab Peter's arm. "Not a chance. Don't even consider it, Pete."
Mari looked confused. "Consider what?"
"Peter had the idea of providing himself as the main entree - you know, 'Dragon bait a la Trevick'."
Katy didn't say anything, but she quickly put both arms around Peter's waist.
Mari was horrified. "No way, Peter. This is a joint effort. Besides, if anyone is going to act as hors d'oeuvres, it should be me - all the rest of you have some way to defend yourselves."
Trevor raised his eyes heavenwards. "Give me patience! Jeez, Mari!" he said, continuing to hold Peter with one hand, and putting the other around Mari. "Don't you know how I'd feel if something happened to you?"
"Besides, Mari," Peter said. "You're the most important one of all. We'll need someone to put us back together when this is over."
Trevor had a brief vision of Mari trying to resurrect them from a pile of dragon dung. "Mari," he said, "about this patching-together business. If it comes down to the nitty-gritty - " he hesitated, trying to find a way to phrase it delicately, "- you know - from the backside of her great beyond - keep it reasonable, okay?"
*
Direygayn could stomach the delays no longer. I should be able to ignore these minute, but noxious, entities, she thought grimly. Her cavernous hunger gutted her innards with an inferno that raged on the gases produced by her shrinking stomach.
The dingy winged pests were a foreign refuse in her nostrils and ears, and the fastidious side of her nature wanted to expel them before eating. The ordeal of fire that afflicted her in this dimension had a cleansing purity, that somehow suited her discriminating tastes, despite the discomfort of the experience. It was only in this world, where the food was inevitably roasted as she consumed it, that she could also experience the near God-like illusion of burnt offerings - the flaming pyre placed before her massive ego. Yes, despite the distasteful, and, at times, positively painful, aspects of fiery digestion, there was much to be said for this sorry place.
The taste of the female's flesh lingered on her palate, stimulating her involuntary nervous system; causing her muscles to contract in preparation for the pounce. Now, her tongue was lashing out to taste the air, and great patches of steaming drool pooled by her feet. Her jaws loosened, unhinging with a swift smoothness that revealed a snake-like ancestry. Her eyes became slits, glazing over with near rapture as she anticipated the next few moments. Then, with a movement so fast that it left her fairy torturers eating smoke, Direygayn lunged and struck.
*
Peter wasn't sure what instinct warned him - whether it was some slight tensing of the dragon's posture, or some intent written in her eyes - that she was going to act.
When it came, the attack was so swift that it blurred in his vision. There was no time to dive for the floor, or warn the others - the dragon was on them before the shouted "Watch out!" had left his mouth.
*
With a resounding clang, that shook her to her bones, Direygayn's teeth impacted on the metal of Jordy's car. Bits of teeth, blood, and saliva flew, as Direygayn shrieked in pain.
*
Mari screamed, but it was lost in the screeches and groans of abused metal. Overhead, the roof shortened; the smooth lines suddenly becoming dented and holed like the uneven contours of a lunar landscape. Through the holes, burning drops of saliva and blood mingled with pieces of some other substance that fell in rocky chunks on their heads and backs.
Peter felt something hard bounce against his shoulder, then ping against the metal door. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he heard Trevor's muttered, "Ow!" and knew that Mari was weeping openly in the front. Katy was so stiff and tense that a sharp impact would have broken her. She was spilling colour everywhere, and the seats and floor were coated in terror-induced shades of purple and red.
His own focus was gone, lost in the horror of heat and spit and searing metal. He tried once to summon the bees, but all his gifts seemed to be buried under a shellacking of fear and revulsion, at the thought of their fate.
Lifting his head to see through the window, he had a glimpse of the fires of hell, glowing hotly in a bottomless gullet wreathed by razor-sharp teeth. "No!" he yelled, determination rooting itself in his terror at the sight. "I won't let this happen!" Peter let his anger flow outward - forcing it out and up that scale-lined tunnel.
Huge clouds of steam billowed out of Direygayn's mouth, and she gagged. Peter's eyes brightened, excitement replacing anger, as he fought to best the dragon. Nigglings of pride mixed with long buried visions of knights in shining armour, fending off the beast. He glanced quickly at Katy, who was sitting against him now, staring at the flow of his ectoplasmic stream in and down the throat of the dragon. Peter upped the action. Here was his lady, and he was defending her against the dragon's vicious attack.
He was so intent on his activities, that he had no warning. Direygayn, whose stomach was never too settled in this dimension anyway, couldn't tolerate the influx of icy cold into a gorge that was already roiling with hot, gaseous, stomach juices. With a belch that rivalled any of her roars, Direygayn heaved, spewing forth a vile and tainted version of Peter's icy ectoplasm. It arrived in a gaseous wind, of such strength that it flung both knight and lady against the far side of the car.
*
Direygayn tried to draw back, to calm her heaving innards for ingestion - not expulsion. It was no easy matter: she had to force her mouth away with her tongue, in order to free her embedded teeth from the harsh metallic surface of her preys' hidey hole. Anger had changed her emerald eyes to ruby-red, and the effort at detaching herself only incited her to greater fury. She ran her tongue over the rough surface of her chipped teeth, remembering the smooth sharpness that had filled her with such pride.
*
Peter helped Katy sit up. As he pulled her away from the door, their movements produced a squelching, sticky, smacking sound. "How grotesque," Katy muttered.
"It could be worse," a voice said from the front.
"How so?" Peter mumbled, unwilling to open his lips further than a crack.
"It could have been hot." Trevor peeked over the seat. He, too, wore a liberal coating of dragon spew.
"Mari?" Katy asked, concerned at the silence.
"Also dressed for the occasion," Mari replied flatly.
Peter's smile was reduced to a slight upturning of his lips. "At least, it dissuaded her - for the moment."
Trevor risked a look out the window. "Not for long, I'll bet." He turned to Peter. "Can you do that again? I mean, just as she goes for the gulp? You know, easy in - easy out?"
"Sounds charming," Mari said, shuddering.
"But it makes sense. How many animals do you know that'll clean up something they've already tossed away?" Trevor's voice was gaining enthusiasm. At the expression on Mari's face, his tone became more neutral. "It's just an idea, but it might work."
But Katy was already counting off on her fingers. "Dogs, cats - don't you know anything about animals, Trev?" she asked.
"It's good to know I'm gifted in dragon emetics," Peter said. "What else have you got, Trev? Aren't you mad enough yet?"
"Nearly. I was almost there when you drenched me in dragon spew. God, this stuff stinks!"
Katy looked up at the formidable silhouette crowding the night. "There must be some way - something we can do. Mari?"
Mari shrugged. Although she kept her expression calm, her eyes were sad. "If anyone's willing to make a run for it, I'll go along. But I think our chances -" She sighed as she thought of how slim those were, "- are better in here."
Trevor put his arm around her, while Katy reached out and took Mari's hand. "I'm just glad," Katy said, "that none of us are alone."
***
Chapter Five
"No, Spigot!" Dag screeched in temper. "While that beast has an orifice left unexplored, I refuse to give up!"
"I'm not giving up! But there are other ways -" Spigot was beside himself. He'd thought he was hot-headed, but he was no match for the wilful Dag. "This fairy is positively evil," he muttered, her nasty cackle still ringing in his ears. He received a pointed kick in his backside in response.
"They will die, Fairy, unless we can stop that Thing!" Dag shrieked. "I can do it!" she boasted madly. "I merely need the proper tool -" With that, Dag darted swiftly away, leaving Spigot wishing that she did, indeed, have a solution.
Don't let it be a boastful illusion, he prayed to the Gods of his world, throwing in a spare phrase or two for whatever Deity ruled this dimension. I just hope dragons don't have any special clout on the heavenly circuit.
*
Even If Direygayn had known someone was praying for the humans' deliverance, she wouldn't have cared. Hunger was her god now, and her stomach ruled her world. Her grumbling emptiness sang the litany of her complaints, feeding her anger as nothing had her appetite. Considering herself only momentarily stymied, but basically unchallenged, she gave her broken teeth one last tongue-rub as a reminder, then slung her head forward, in a jettisoning motion, to attack once again.
*
Peter slammed a fist against the metal top, wondering whether the metal had any integrity left. "I have a new respect for snails," he said. "I just wish our shell had as many layers."
The roof suddenly caved in, following Peter's withdrawing fingers, as the car was hammered in a sledgehammer pounding. The next blow sent them all flying, rolling across seats, slamming into metal doors. Trevor wrapped one arm around the steering wheel, and the other around Mari - trying to anchor them to the interior.
The dragon's teeth released slightly, giving her victims a moment's hope - only to bite down further on their small metal cage; improving her grip on the fragmenting metal. Metal shrieked and screamed, wood bits flew like flotsam before a big wind, great clouds of mingled sawdust, metal shards, and debris filled their air. The dragon lifted, flapping her large wings to give her greater force - tearing the car from its entrapment; ripping it out of the floorboards, to yank it through the roofless derelict, that had once been the humans' dwelling.
Then, Direygayn shook the car, rattling it back and forth with great sweeps of her long neck. The top caved in still further, as her mouth creased in a smile - the frustration of her long wait was about to be satisfied. The car jounced and rattled, hopping and jumping like a floppy toy on the end of a long spring.
*
Katy was halfway out the window, flung headfirst by their erratic movements. Peter dove for her, catching her by the heels before she exited into the pulsing inferno of the dragon's throat.
Katy thought it was the end. There was no way Peter would be able to hold her in the wildly gyrating confines of their world. He might well be flung out with her, at the next abrupt movement.
Katy could feel the dragon's flesh radiating heat to her exposed skin. This was in the mouth, where external air could still cool the beast's internal fire. God help me if I go down that - She stared at the pulsing yaw of the dragon's gullet - that glowed like a live coal, and, Katy was certain, was nearly as hot.
Peter's grip was slipping. They were wholly in the dragon's mouth now, with only the car's mass to wedge the sharp teeth open to the night air. "Katy!" Peter yelled, his hold on her loosening from the sweat that was pouring thickly down his body. God! he prayed. Don't let me loose her!
Direygayn flung them with rapacious eagerness back in the other direction, and Katy slipped out of his arms. "Peter!" he heard her cry - the words rattling in his mind.
Peter's wrath and fear exploded. In a violent outpouring of ectoplasmic matter, the car filled with a white cloud, that fled like ground fog in a viscous mass down the dragon's heated throat. Ectoplasm mixed with steam, which billowed out Direygayn's mouth and nostrils. The cold was so intense, that it acted like icy water on a lava flow; momentarily encasing the beast's digestive juices under a hard and blackened surface.
*
A moment of fatalism gripped her, as Katy felt herself slip from Peter's grasp. She knew what was happening, but some part of her mind refused to accept it. The whole thing had that unbearable inevitability of a horror movie; the slow-motion helplessness of a bad dream.
But, it wasn't slow. It was all too fast. And, if I don't do something in the next few seconds, it'll all be over. Forever. The thought shocked her out of numbness. Her hands flayed the steam-laden air, as she fought to stop herself from plummeting into the curved tunnel that wriggled ahead - the one that striated and twisted with every sway of the dragon's neck. The hunger hole that was even now losing its black lava look, in a molten re-warming of dragon tissues.
But, there was nothing to grab. She splayed her arms and legs as far as she could, hoping to lodge herself in the narrowing throat. It was still too wide, though, and Katy heard a whimper start somewhere nearby, that escalated to a shrill scream. It took her a second to realise it came from her own throat.
Just as it seemed that nothing could stop her downward trajectory, something came at her out of the molten light. The thing hit her in the side, with rib-cracking force, and a wild hyena cry that rivalled anything her own lungs could produce.
It was enough. Her hands, still slicing the air in desperation, sank into the heated softness of a dragon's tonsil.
The Thing that had hit her so mercilessly, hung weakly now on one long lock of her tumbled hair. Digging in her fingers to firm her grip - bending her knees as though the action would somehow secure her fly posture on the dragon's throat - she risked releasing one hand, to dangle recklessly in the heated air. Her free hand swept up the small form hanging precariously in her hair, and plopped it on to her shoulder. Then, feeling her fingers start to give, she quickly dug in the support of her other hand.
She scrabbled with her feet, kicking at a gland here, a nodule there; seeking some slight purchase in the undulating tissues of the dragon's throat. Then, momentarily secure, she rested her head on her raised arms, drawing up one leg again, but this time in hopes of easing the ache in her ribs. Tears of pain and relief mingled in her eyes, and her voice came out in a whisper, but one that could be easily heard by the small figure resting on her shoulder. "Thank you, Thyme."
The smudgy figure answered her with an agitated flutter of wings that she could hear, but didn't turn to see. There was a tug on her hair, and something that might have been a kiss on her cheek. "My pleasure, Katherine Ryder," he said. "And," he continued, and she could imagine his swagger, "my name is Spigot." Flaring briefly into Thyme, he gave her a fairy touch, before lapsing back into his smelly, smudgy facade. It was Spigot, however, who had the last word, adding, "Get a grip, you moron. And please, Human, once you get it, hang on."
*
Dag returned with a wicked-looking stick that was well-spined with spiky cones. Spigot saw her, shuddered briefly, then returned to his efforts in the dragon's mouth.
Both Katherine Ryder, and the dragon's heated gullet, were lined with ice crystals now, and both were shuddering - one from cold, and the other from frustrated temper. As he hovered at Katy's side, Spigot said, "Peter's having a fit."
Katy did no more than nod, not wanting to waste time or energy on speech. She'd had little enough energy before this venture, but now, she knew she needed to get back, at least, to the questionable safety of the car, before fatigue won out.
Spigot had other ideas. He remembered Dag's spiny stick, and knew that, whatever his would-be mate planned to do with it, the dragon was bound to react violently.
There were other concerns as well. Peter had doused the dragon with enough cold to counter the worst of the flesh-searing heat, but Katherine Ryder had no aura to protect her, and would not survive long when the heat was fully reactivated.
After urging Katy to climb, Spigot traversed one fork of the dragon's frozen tongue, searching for a tender spot. Squaring his shoulders against the dragon's possible reaction, he emitted a small but potent spark, to gauge the beast's response. Satisfied, he moved on toward the tip.
Spigot paused momentarily, as he sensed Trevor's pending loss of control, then moved urgently to grasp a tip of forked tongue and whisk it back toward Katherine Ryder. He could picture the strength lying briefly dormant in this forked feeding tool, but he also knew that Peter's outburst would give him a few moments' grace. The dragon, who wielded her tongue as others would a weapon, was caught in a frozen numbness of mouth and throat, that did so little to enhance taste, but so much to increase frozen sinus head pain. No, the dragon would be unable to acknowledge - for a brief while, anyway - that her tongue was about to be used as a rope.
*
Trevor had been silent in the front. At first, his own efforts to keep him and Mari in the car had distracted him from Peter's and Katy's battle in the back. But, nothing could detract from Peter's anguish, and Katherine's terror, as she broke from Peter's hold to plummet down Direygayn's throat.
The power had been churning within Trevor from the moment the beast had ripped them from the earth - churning and building from the recess where Trevor had hidden it deep inside. A flash of the gloating power that had possessed him once before - as he'd flung Peter's body like so much flotsam - the vision of his friend landing in a crumpled heap - shook him. I know what I could be, if I let this take me, Trevor thought fearfully. He remembered Peter's urgings to use the power against the dragon. But, it's not that easy, Peter, his mind implored. I know what I might become -
But, in the end, he didn't have a choice. As the power filled him, Peter's pain, Katy's terror, and Mari's horror over what had happened mingled with his own need to act. Only half conscious of his own anger, Trevor let the dragon have it.
*
The dragon began to jerk in wild, erratic gyrations. Spigot thought, at first, that Trevor was responsible, and wondered what the human's power had done to cause such agony in this massive predator.
For, Direygayn was in agony. Spigot intercepted great, jutting sensations of pain slicing through the giant form. Furthermore, Spigot could also sense the direction from which the creature's discomfort arose, and the thought made him cringe.
He remembered Dag's spiny stick, and her determined expression. Reluctantly, he thought, I will have to speak with her. Dag had questioned him, showing an unnatural interest in humans' affliction with haemorrhoids. Now, he knew why. His mind tortured him with a colourful memory, of a sweetly-scented Lily in his arms. Then, his mental picture switched to the hag, Dag. The mental picture made him gag.
*
Mari hung grimly to the steering wheel, trying to take the burden off Trevor, who'd been trying to hold on to both of them. The reality of Katy's loss sat with her - a tight, sombre block somewhere in her stomach - a black band of tears that made her sinuses and chest ache with the need to shed them. Peter's pain was like a living thing, and now it mingled with the tortured agony of the dragon, to make a confused sensory picture of pain, and darkness, and grief beyond words.
Suddenly, an erratic glimmering of hope wove through her mental bleakness - enough to make her wonder if, by some miracle, Katy had survived. Should she share this with Peter? She glanced at him, clinging to the seat, exhaustion and despair in his bowed posture. No. To raise the hope - and leave him open to Katy's loss once more - would be too cruel. We may all be with her soon, anyway, Mari thought despondently. And, if Katy were alive, we would be able to sense her -
But I can't feel past the dragon, Mari thought. It's almost as though we're part of this monster already - The intensity of the dragon's feelings was so strong, nestled as they were within her body, that they seemed to superimpose themselves on everything else.
She almost missed it. Mari had known it was coming - known it by the tension in Trev's face, as he fought back the power that was stirring within him. Mari realised that, for all his words, Trevor was fighting the power as much as he was seeking it - fighting against it, for fear it would somehow dominate him.
Something in his rigid posture gave him away. Trevor was no longer here - this was a different Trevor - driven from within, lost in a pervasive orgasmic flush of release. The effect was shocking - like a shout from a mouth that had only spoken in whispers. There was something so inherently terrifying in his expression, that she found herself scrabbling with her feet, to brace herself so she wouldn't touch him.
Her unconscious response filled her with shame, and Mari reached out, needing to touch him. Her fingers brushed his arm. "Trev?"
Peter yanked her arm away. "No, Mari," he said harshly, but his eyes were sad. "I shouldn't have asked him to do it." He gripped the seat back again, to stabilise himself against Direygayn's erratic movements. "Climb back here - and hurry," he urged her. Peter kept his eyes on Trevor, who seemed oblivious to everything else.
*
Direygayn couldn't close her jaws. They were locked open - wedged by something more than the unhappy juncture of teeth and metal. Impossible to open them further, to gnash the hardened hidey hole of her reluctant prey into a conformable shape. Impossible to close her mouth - only by an uncomfortable stretching, could her lips achieve any kind of closure over her gaping teeth.
Indignities at both ends! her mind screamed. She wanted to slap her tail in frustration, but it was caught beneath the wreckage of the humans' dwelling - woven into the maze-like underdwelling in which the feeble beings had tried to hide. Using her tail was usually an effective strategy, and one which had worked for her in aeons past - a prank to fool her foolish prey into thinking they had two challengers to deal with. But now, everything seemed to be going wrong.
*
Spigot had tied the split ends of the dragon's tongue around Katy's waist, much to her disgust. There's one way to handle this, Katy thought, finding the touch of the dragon's tongue almost unbearable. Get it over as fast as possible. She fingered a taste bud, frowning at the squishy warmth of it, then dug her fingers in to pull herself up.
It was a struggle. Anything this monster ingested was destined for a one-way trip right down the gullet and into the fiery bowels. Katy felt like someone trying to go the wrong way up a water-slide, but all the water was hot, slimy, and viscous.
She remembered reading somewhere that in the human mouth, saliva provides the first step in the digestive process. Why did I have to remember that now? she thought, as a glob of the stuff came her way, streaming down the dragon's abused tongue, and over Katy's waist and legs. I'm going to be sick! It took a real effort to force back the gag that rose in her throat, and for a moment, she could only cling weakly to her makeshift rope.
It was the thought of the dragon having even that much of her - of it gaining by the rejected leavings of her last meal - essentially winning by default - that filled her with new determination. Anger was starting to simmer now, and she used her disgust for this creature, and its digestive workings, as a weapon, to give her the strength to continue. Katy pulled herself upwards another half-metre.
But, it would take more than determination to win the day. Not only did she have the dragon's saliva to contend with, but there were the unceasing undulations of the creature's swallow, as it sought to deal with the rivers of spit that its gaping mouth produced. Trevor's jamming of the giant's jaws may have spared them all the final crushing blow of the dragon's chew, but Direygayn, her system well-oiled in anticipation of a satisfying meal, had to swallow or drool away those mouthfuls of saliva, or choke.
Katy knew she had to time this well. At the peak of each swallow, the back of Direygayn's throat was almost fully closed. Katy was sure the musculature would be more than sufficient to crush one small human, no matter how determined. And by clinging to this tongue, Katy thought, I'm probably aggravating this swallowing frenzy.
The tissues in the tongue and throat were rapidly thawing now, becoming looser by the minute. As the base of the tongue softened, and the tissues became more elastic, Katy found she was losing almost as much distance as she'd gained. Her eyes dilated in pain and fear. If the tongue muscles stretched any further, in response to the demands she was placing on them, the tongue might become wedged in the throat. If she chokes on her tongue, there'll be no way out - The image of hundreds of tonnes of flaccid dragon tissue collapsing played a vivid picture in Katy's mind.
She recalled Trevor's powers, and her mental picture took on flarings of white panic, feeding her determination with a wild adrenaline rush. What if Trev stops the dragon's heart? She realised fearfully that whatever damage was done to the dragon would damage her as well - unless she could get out of the monster's gullet. Katy, feet digging now for traction with a galloping frenzy, pulled herself upwards another notch.
Ride the waves. Another swallow crested, then washed over her clinging legs. "Dammit!" Katy swore aloud, as one of her feet slipped. She booted the oesophageal lining, forcing a toe-hold where one hadn't been before.
The move gave her confidence. Maybe I can do it again. But, it wasn't easy. All the cells in the gullet seemed to be directional, but going the wrong way for Katy's liking. They had a downward trajectory, that worked like the dragon's outer scales to move even the most feeble bits of substance down that heated tube. Katy watched as the gullet came alive - the effects of Peter's freezing works wearing off. The cells at her feet gave a sticky rustle, and she saw the vibration of movement shiver down an increasingly-heated passage. Katy yanked herself up higher.
Spigot was annoyingly agitated, but Katherine plodded on, trying to ignore his darting movements. The dragon was heating up again, almost unbearably so, and she forced herself to move more quickly.
She clung to the back of the mouth, awaiting her opportunity. She shuddered, knowing that the next few seconds would decide her fate. For, this was the apex of her efforts - the moment to crest the tidal action of the dragon's swallow.
Spigot darted in and out of the throat, trying to appear confident and cocky. He gave her hair an upwards tug. "It is easy, Human. Sometimes, it is better not to think -" He darted out of the throat once more. Katy, both hands clinging tightly against Direygayn's convulsive swallowing, briefly buried her face in her arms. Spigot's formality had given him away. Although sensation was overpowered in this place, Katy realised that Spigot was almost as frightened for her as she was for herself.
He was back. Katy saw the flaring of his light and forced a smile. "Braggart," she muttered. "I suppose if a little dweeb like you can do it, anyone else can -"
"Dweeb, Katherine Ryder?" he asked, hovering in her face. Seeing the lines of strain there, he leaned forward, to offer her a fairy touch.
Nervously, she shook her head. The adrenaline rush was still with her - surging pulses of power that were rebounding off her colour stream to make her feel out of control. She felt the glimmers of hysteria in the making. A fairy touch might put me over the edge, she thought.
But Spigot recognised her mood for what it was: nervous energy fed by fear and fatigue. Katherine Ryder was nearly depleted now, having given too much of her substance in her efforts.
Had Katy been in better stead, he would have found a way to tease her - to spark her anger, and bring the multi-coloured glimmers back to her eyes. But he sensed aggravation would not serve her now - any more pressure, and Katy might well break. So Spigot ruffled her hair, his smile sly as he deftly wove fairy touches into the occasionally merciless tugs upon her scalp. Finally, Katy had experienced enough of his so-called companionship, which was giving her a headache. "Let's do it, Fairy," she said grouchily. As her muscles tensed to heave her up and over the gullet's threshold, she turned to him one last time. "Thanks, Thyme - for everything." She turned her eyes away as she muttered, "No matter what happens."
The gulf opened, as the muscles briefly relaxed. Katy pulled herself hand-over-hand, fighting the slippery throat for toeholds - squirming and clawing her way up towards the mouth. She'd almost made it - head and shoulders riding high on the rising tide of muscular tongue. But, the stretching of the expanding tissues were calling her back; the weight of her legs starting to exert a backwards drag against the sharp peak of the lifting tongue.
Spigot grabbed her hair - the only part of her saliva-coated body that he could securely grasp. Whirring his wings furiously, he fought to pull her upwards - over the crest of the rising wave.
Katy felt the inexorable pressure building on her hips and legs: the crushing, compacting might of the dragon's powerful gullet. She'd hoped there'd be some give in the tissues, but at the apex of the swallow, the creature's muscles were taut: steel bars that felt like they were splitting her apart. Spigot could only flutter helplessly, his aura flickering madly, as he sensed the silent scream that Katy had no breath to utter.
The pain was black-fringed now, and Katy begged for it to end soon - for the seemingly endless agony to have an end, even if it spelled her own.
Just as she thought she could bear no more, a weird pressure started building beneath her almost unfelt feet. Am I being digested? she thought vaguely, beyond being bothered by anything less trivial than this crushing torment.
When the release came, it was so sudden, and the returning blood flow so painful, that at first Katy didn't realise what had happened. It was the noise that reached the glimmers of her consciousness first, as Direygayn gave a sound very like a human gag, before a quantity of searing fluid drove Katy up and over the tongue's suddenly flattened base. Thyme, picking up Katy's forward roll with some added momentum of his own, directed her into a shallow gully between teeth and tongue. As he did so, he tightened his muscles like a constipated pigeon, to explode his aura outwards in a diarrhoea splaying that deflected the worst of Direygayn's volcanic burst from Katherine Ryder's limp body.
It's enough to make you gag. Some part of Katy's brain registered that she'd overpowered - digestively at least, the queen of beasts. I must be safe. Still, for the moment, it was just too much effort to open her eyes. Katy lay there, a slight smile forming as the pain began to ease, and she nestled against Peter's warmth, in the cosy comfort of her bed -
Not warm - hot! A new pain - a dance on the hotplate flash - bit at her backside. Katy's eyes popped open.
Spigot had tried everything he could think of to wake her up, from poking her, to zapping her, to fairy touches, to yelling in her ear. Finally, unable to sustain his extended aura any longer, he'd remained in her face, hovering uncertainly, his aura bright with anxiety. When her eyes opened, he hid his relief in sarcasm. "Time to rise and shine," he said. "How shiny are you?" he asked.
*
Peter offered Mari a hand for balance as she tumbled into the rear seat. Mari fell against him, but he didn't feel it. I don't think I'll ever feel anything again.
What he wanted to do was bolt from this metal box, to search for Katy - to keep despair from consuming the last vestiges of hope. But, his conscience wouldn't let him abandon these friends to their fate - or rather, Katy's conscience wouldn't. Trevor no longer had the wit to free himself, and Mari would never leave him. So that leaves me. And Katy would never let me weigh the slim chance of her survival, against the sure chance of their demise -
It would be different if I could sense her. He grimaced, scrunching his eyes as he sought inside for some sign of her being. For just a second, he thought he felt her - lying close to him - so real that he could smell the sweet scent of her hair over the sulphurous fumes of the dragon's breath. But, then, Mari tugged his arm, returning him abruptly to the present; making him feel his brief experience had been more dream and desire than reality.
He absently patted Mari's shoulder, then tried again to find the wisps of feeling - that intangible touch of his Katy that had come to him through the heated air. If only I could feel her once more - then I would know. And nothing on earth would keep me from her. But the dragon's presence quashed all else, leaving his sensory experience as elusive as a memory; as uncertain as a dream.
Peter hated this behemoth now - hated it for robbing him of hope and happiness - then hated it even more for doing so in naive hunger, which almost justified its actions.
*
Katy stared up at the stained and jagged rows of teeth, towering so close to her head. The prodding of flesh on heated dragon palate urged her to a sitting position - painful, but possible. She didn't know what damage had been done by the trash compactor action of her adversary, and for the moment, it didn't matter. As long as I can move -
Sitting up had been a good start. From there, it should have been a minor matter to get up - only it wasn't. Katy finally decided she was lucky when she settled into a determined crawl.
Her eyes filled as she crept beyond the lumps of dragon tongue, and saw the car. It was more of a compact car now than the manufacturer had ever intended, but certainly big enough to house her lover and friends. On all fours, oblivious to the hot tissues that were under her hands and knees, conscious only of an overwhelming need to see Peter, she started to crawl forward. Suddenly, Spigot became still, and Katy had the sensation that some force - as invisible as the wind, but just as tangible - had joined them in the dragon's mouth. "Thyme?" she asked quietly.
The eyes the fairy turned on her were fearful. What told her more was his sudden reappearance as Thyme - a Thyme who was having trouble forming the words to explain to her what had happened. He flung himself in her path, blocking her way as she crawled toward the crunched vehicle. "Not that way, Katherine," he said firmly, dodging with her as she tried to crawl past him.
"I'm not in any mood for this, Thyme," she said angrily. "Peter needs to know I'm okay."
"Booby traps make no distinction between friend and foe, Katherine Ryder - unless you know where they are, and how to disarm them."
Katy looked in dismay at her surroundings: seething, pulsing, living tissues which undulated beneath her - making her alternate between clinging wildly as the dragon swung her head in distress, and fighting for balance on the ever-changing landscape of tongue and gum. She was soaked with a mixture of dragon drool, and her own sweat, as her body responded to the dragon's meteoric rise in temperature. Her body ached in a perverse litany that refused to keep an even tempo so she could accustom herself to its demands. Instead, the pain came in aching shards, that peaked through the background pangs. And the acidic tingle of the dragon's tongue was returning, reminding her that she was yet leashed to the creature's mouth - an hors d'oeuvre dangling on a string. "What am I supposed to do, Thyme?" she asked, clinging for her life to a flabby bit of dragon gum, exhaustion bringing on tears. "Where can I go?"
"Only one place," Thyme told her reluctantly, his eyes turning toward the dark sky beyond the open mouth.
Katy shook her head. "No, Thyme. Not without Peter." Her jaw firmed as she prepared to be as stubborn as she needed to.
"Peter prefers you rare to well-done," Thyme insisted. "Mari cannot resurrect charcoal to a state of fitness."
Katy involuntarily jerked away from the tissue she'd been holding, as it heated to steaming viscosity. She tried to push herself upright, into a standing position, where less of her skin would be in touch with Direygayn's palate. At first it was beyond her, but she knew Thyme was right - much longer on all-fours, and she'd be too well-done even for Mari to repair.
Teeth gritted, she pushed away from the heated surface, getting halfway to her feet before running out of strength. She rested, crouched, using her hands to support the weight of her upper body against her own bent knees; feeling the searing pain rising in her feet as the dragon heated to broil. With a final effort, she pushed herself upright, finding a rough balance between her own weakness, and the movement of the entity beneath her. In moments, she was doing a jerky and rhythmless dance that blended her unsteadiness with hopping gasps as she sought to cool down her burning feet. "All right!" she puffed agitatedly. "You win!"
Glancing quickly at the dark sky beyond the dragon's jaws, she paused, forcing herself to stillness - tuning out her discomfort as she sought the fairy's eyes. "Please, Thyme!" she pleaded urgently. "Tell Peter - make him and the others follow -"
"Katherine," Thyme told her, as he shoved her none-too-gently in the direction of the dragon's yawning maw, "I will tell them when I can - but not even I would have the nerve to confront Trevor right now."
*
Dag gave her stick another experimental twist, cackling gleefully as the dragon squirmed in response. She fought down her meeker side; the side that was quailing at her actions - the part that was horrified at the filth, the stench, and the cruelty that this effort entailed. For a glimmer of time, Lily appeared, then was vanquished just as quickly, her aura lingering like a ghost on the vision of any watchers.
I can't stop myself, Lily wailed silently. Although she knew that Dag was merely another side of herself, it was the side which she'd dominated all her life - the side which she'd always suppressed as unworthy - the activities she'd always denounced as both humourless and lacking in character. Now, somehow, unleashing the monster within had put the monster in control. And the monster was enjoying herself, at the expense of any and every other living thing. Lily wondered how she would ever get control back. Worse still - the wicked Dag portion of her cackled and sneered - she didn't know if she would want to.
*
The tough sinews in the tongue, which had always been there, under the surface, were beginning to tighten and squeeze. Katy sucked her breath in alarm, as the floppy lengths enfolding her grew hot and stiff. The tips, which flayed out from a double knot at her back, squiggled in ragged circles - tugging at her hair, slapping her back, and snatching at her leg. Katy writhed to get free.
Spigot was also fighting the knot. Katy's weight, down in the dragon's tunnel-like throat, had tightened the knot beyond his nimble fingers' capabilities. A worried frown creased his brow as he realised what was about to happen.
*
Direygayn, whose nerve endings were more sensitive in her tongue than nearly anywhere else in her body, was faced with a double assault against the delicate regions of her person. Her claws had been working madly at destroying the woeful parasite who was plugging away at her nether regions. Her tongue, though - her delicate tongue which revealed the taste and smell of the world to her - this was hooked in a painful coiling of muscle and tendon - of skin and sensory networks. She screamed in dismay, through a mouth that some unseen wedge kept from closing - attempting to force her vocal cords to exorcise that which all her tricks could not.
*
Peter felt the dragon's roar from his head through to his toes. The air they breathed - air that was polluted with the dragon's own exhalations - vibrated to her vocal assault. He looked at Trevor, to see the effect of the violent outburst on his friend, but Trev appeared unaware of his surroundings. Peter's mind drifted to a picture he'd once seen of Dracula: cold, gloating, dispassionate. Trevor was like that now, and Peter would have given almost anything to see the smile back in Trevor's eyes.
Peter refused to think any more about Katy. If I think - if I give up hope - there will be nothing left of me. His would not allow himself to remember how far she had travelled down the dragon's throat - before, in another upheaval by the damned creature, he had lost sight of her.
Despite his efforts, he was gripped again with a desperate urgency to seek Katy out. If wanting was having - But - he looked again at Trevor - Mari would never be able to manage alone. It'll take both of us to get Trevor out of here. Peter made a silent vow. I'll find you, Katy-my-love, he swore. Somehow, we'll be together. It was enough to temporarily still his desperation.
All Peter's senses were overrun, but, unlike Mari, who'd attributed the nulling void to the dragon's proximity, Peter realised that Trevor was at least partially to blame. His intensity was overpowering any other sensations in the area.
Just when Peter thought he'd numbed himself, the warmth of Katy's essence swept over him once again. Katy! Peter took the glimmer of hope that came his way and held it, as a man awash might snatch at flotsam cast upon the wild sea.
*
The dragon attempted to straighten her cramping tongue - the tongue that had been bent over on itself, twisted, and tied together as a rope-sling.
Katy was caught in a vice-like rigidity that gripped her, then sent her shunting forward with the inevitable motion of a roller coaster. Only this is no ride! Her brain pounded as her teeth clattered together.
She was thrust down along the lower palate, jouncing over the rough glandular tissues, which flung up hot saliva again along her feet and legs. Twisting, pushing, shoving, and clawing at the dragon's tongue did nothing to loosen its hold on her - only increased the ferocious activity of those split tongue ends that slapped furiously against her back and legs.
Thyme was still wrestling with his damned fairy knots. Cursing himself in high-pitched fairy, he battled the gyrations of tongue tip and moving knots. He realised what the trouble was, of course. Not only Katherine's weight against them, but his own choice of shifting, living material, had rendered the intricacies of his skilled knot-tying impossibly convoluted. "You must fight to hold still, Katherine Ryder!" he complained.
Katy blew out another shallow breath in exasperation. "Hold still, Fairy?!" she panted as she was flung into a shallow roll. The multi-coloured glints in her eyes were bright and angry. "How?!" was all she could manage on the next breath.
The dragon suddenly stiffened all over, as Dag attacked once again. The giant's tongue grew momentarily still, and Thyme gave a trilling cry of triumph as the first twisting bend gave way. "We will have it, Katy!" he boasted. "Hold on for just a moment longer!"
Hold on? Katy thought. To what? Nevertheless, she tried to brace her feet to resist the tension in the muscle, which had begun to build once more. "Thyme!" she yelled. "It's about to contract -"
At that moment, the tongue bulged and shortened. Katy, her back now to the open mouth, was slammed against the top palate as the dragon issued a loud click of distress. She had one last look of the long tunnel of the dragon's throat, before she was whisked backwards. The car, still caught amongst the vicious teeth, was passed in a mere moment, and Katy had a brief glimpse of the three humans within.
Katy heard Thyme's "I've got it!" The fleshy firmness of Direygayn's muscular tongue suddenly dropped away.
It was too late. Now, instead of being pulled, Katy was being pushed, as the dragon flicked out her tongue to taste the night sky. Still caught between the wriggling forks of the creature's large tongue, Katherine had no choice: she was sent down and out, to scrape across the jagged front teeth, and out where Thyme had intended her to go all along.
The passage into the night sky was shockingly sudden, as was the transition from unbearably hot to chilly cold. Katy had one last glimpse of the stars above, as she left the support of the dragon's salivating tongue. Then, she was flying swiftly through the orange-shot darkness, down to the ground below.
***
Chapter Six
"We have to get out of here!" Peter told Mari in a whisper.
"Trevor?" Mari asked him. Her eyes were fixed on him, almost as though she were afraid to look away.
"Wouldn't go without him. We just have to break him out of his trance." Peter hesitated. "And that might be tricky. I'm not sure exactly what he's doing, but I think he's trying to keep the dragon's jaws pried open."
Mari nodded, switching her gaze to the crunched metal of the nearly flattened car. The metal had ruptured in some places, folded back on itself in others, and squiggled like the curvy patterns in cake icing in the corners. She forced her eyes away, going back to staring at Trevor. "He stops concentrating, and we get smooshed. So what do we do?"
"We don't touch him," Peter said seriously. "But, whatever we decide, it has to be soon. I have to find Katy. She won't survive in this heat for long." Sweat was coating all of their bodies.
At his words, Mari turned his way. "Peter," she began, and Peter could hear the sympathy in her voice.
"Don't!" he interrupted. "Don't say it! I need to believe for now."
Mari nodded her head, then turned away. She wanted to believe Katy was alive, too - would rather believe anything but the thought of her friend plunging down that searing gullet. Let him keep his hope, she thought. Her eyes shifted to Trevor, staring and oblivious in the front seat. And just maybe, if I'm lucky, it'll be contagious.
*
Katherine Ryder stiffened, anticipating the abrupt, bone-cracking impact of her flesh meeting hard soil. Or, worse still, a charring encounter with the flaming ruin of her little house: with half-consumed timbers, jagged nails, and fiery debris. Please God, she prayed. Whatever happens, let it be over quickly.
But, when it came, it was in slow motion. Katy hit with a solid smack, reminiscent of meat flung on a cutting board, on to a surface that crackled, then gave enough to save her from fatal injury. She found herself tumbling roughshod over a scaly mound, that made a dozen small cuts along her exposed skin. The uneven contours curved her round like a roulette ball on its final spin, sending her rolling down a weird slide jutting with backbone and scales.
She tried to stop herself - once. "Damn it!" Her abraded hands now wore what most of her body already did - the slicing mark of the dragon. In the next moment, the night sky, with its reddish cast, disappeared. Katy tumbled away from her makeshift slide, off across dirt and rubble, and into a solid chunk of concrete.
She shook her head to clear it - half wondering, as her eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom - by what miracle she was still among the living. But it took a fairy light, darting in hot on her trail, for her to figure out exactly where she'd ended up. Katherine Ryder glanced around, seeing a familiar pattern of concrete piles, old wood, and dust - dust everywhere. She gasped in shock, earning a mouthful of dirt for her effort. Her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and disappointment, which mingled with something else, as she became aware of the ridiculousness of the situation.
Thyme hovered in her face, anxious to see how his friend had survived the fall. He read the pain there, but was reassured by the humorous glint in her eyes. "After all that, Thyme," Katy told him huskily, "I'm right back where I started."
*
"There's no other way out," Peter said. "I'm just going to grab him and go."
Mari had almost grown accustomed to the pitching of the dragon's agitated movements. But now she considered it in terms of successfully exiting the creature's mouth. "The teeth -" she said, looking at the long, and enormously jagged mouthparts.
"It's now or never, Mari." Peter looked at the window gap, which - in spite of Trevor's efforts - had definitely grown smaller since Katy had been flung out. "Look," he continued agitatedly. "Get out, and hang on to something. I'll push him out to you."
"Peter -"
He gripped her shoulders. "I have to find Katy, Mari. Now." Mari had seen that expression before. It was a recurring one whenever Peter or Katy was worried about the other. Mari slithered out the window, then wrapped one arm around the window frame.
Poor Katy, she thought. The dragon's mouth was hot and slippery, and some acidic quality to the saliva burnt her legs. But, she kept her thoughts to herself. For Peter's sake, she even forced a small smile of reassurance.
Peter looked at her, nodded, then climbed over into the front seat, doing his best not to touch Trevor. He took several deep breaths, trying to find some deep-seated centre of calm, that his touch would convey to Trev. But, all he could find inside was agitation, and terror, and the lost feeling that had been with him since Katy had been flung away. And, close to the surface, was a dark depression that bordered on despair. He passed over it lightly, not wanting to dredge up any more than he could handle right now. "To hell with it," he muttered. "There's no time." He scrunched his eyes closed, and wrapped Trevor in a giant bear hug.
The walls of their world shook, as the dragon's powerful jaw muscles went into a convulsive spasm. The car's metal screamed and rattled, echoing Direygayn's jerking muscles. Mari, one arm caught on the inside of the car, was flopped up and down, as the dragon's jaws went to war with its brain.
Trevor's head turned in Peter's direction, but Peter sensed his friend had no idea who he was. Peter felt a pressure building in his chest, and his head began to spin. But still, he refused to let go.
I'm having a heart attack, he realised. And Trevor is doing it. "Trevor!" he choked out, as agonising pain shot down one arm, and a huge weight settled on his chest.
Mari saw the dragon's tongue come slithering toward her feet. "Oh my God!" she screamed, thinking it had come specifically for her - that it meant to begin its meal by ripping her away from her trapped arm, then squishing out the rest of her on those enormous teeth. She tucked up her legs, to hang there in a kind of frozen horror, as the tongue passed under her feet, and wrapped around the car's hot iron, instead.
Then, Mari began to realise that this had been the dragon's intention all along. She saw the muscles begin to tighten in the tongue, as the dragon fought to disengage her teeth from the car's metal framework.
*
Direygayn was becoming increasingly discouraged with her bittersweet meal. Disgust filled her. Her teeth were made for crunching bones, not this strange compound which chipped and dulled them. She struggled to open her jaws, in preparation for biting again - in order to finish this, and satiate an appetite that had been taunted and teased, but was as yet unsatisfied.
*
Mari hung there, an unwilling passenger, as the car was lifted and twisted, and roughly forced off its toothy resting place. For a moment, as they sat on the live-coal heat of the lower palate, Mari thought that the dragon meant to swallow them whole - car and all.
But, what was coming was worse. The tongue propelled them forward at high speed - toward the jagged spikes of the front teeth. Teeth, Mari's brain told her, designed for ripping and tearing.
As they were pushed swiftly over the bumpy palette, Direygayn's breath exhaled in a giant blow of distress, that whined through the small apertures that had once been windows. The result was a shrill whistle, that echoed in the small space, and nearly burst Peter's eardrums.
It had no effect on Trevor. He'd lost track of his enemy; he merely knew that he must fight it. It was he who held Peter now, returning the bear hug with a grim parody of affection that spelled death. Peter was nearly incoherent, but no longer had the strength to push himself away.
Mari saw the enormous jaws open. The tongue manoeuvred the wreckage into position, where the steely teeth could snap down, ripping into the metal casing like the sharp tooth of a can opener. She put her mouth against her trapped arm - to scream a desperate warning to the two men in the car. But, when the jaws descended, there were no words of warning in her voice. In anguished terror, at the loss of hope and future, Mari simply screamed.
*
Dag's aura burnt a brilliant yellow, shot with red. Her speed increased as she saw the dragon's jaws begin to twitch. With purpose born of fury, she led her buzzing contingent in an all-out attack on the dragon's exposed tissues: the eyelids, the lips, the tongue, the exposed edges of the nostrils - anywhere scales failed to cover and protect. Direygayn screamed, forgetting her intentions as her ears were filled with the buzzing horror of thousands of bees, who left their stingers burning a memory into her ages-old brain.
The dragon's eyes narrowed with fear and malice. Never, in all of her days, had a meal been so hard to come by. Somehow - either by inspiration or intent - the small delicacies trapped in her mouth were to blame. The assaults upon her person - the indignities she had already undergone - the agony she was undergoing now - Direygayn blamed them. Her eyes became mere slits of vibrant red. There was no way they would escape her now. Forcing her jaws to open wider, she prepared to finish what she'd started. The sensation of the female's scream, which resounded deep within, may have been drowned by the buzzing of the dreaded bees - but was yet enough to fill Direygayn with satisfaction.
But then the birds arrived, in a raucous, screaming hail that put the bees' buzzing to shame. At Dag's direction, the winged avengers swooped en masse toward the dragon's flaring nostrils. They landed, piling upon each other in layer after layer; spreading wings to block the flow of dragon breath. Direygayn - suddenly faced with suffocation - didn't dare to block further the limited air flow passing through her mouth.
In frustration, she clawed at her face, sending the birds winging briefly away - only to settle as thickly as before. Finally, she clawed so hard, that she drew blood, that ran in a rivulet down her face and into her mouth - further blocking her air passage.
Direygayn panicked. Her tongue swept up the whistling car, with her would-be meal, and balanced it above her teeth. Then, with a grunt borne of frustration and anger, she pushed it violently, flinging it out past her lips, and down to the ground below. A cunning look entered her eyes as she anticipated rummaging through the wreckage for her long-awaited meal.
Dag read the cunning look and grinned evilly. Gathering her bees, to allow the dragon to think she'd achieved a momentary respite, Dag re-directed them, sending the bees down to join the jagged stick, which had caused Direygayn so much discomfort before.
*
Katy was dragging herself out from beneath the house, when she saw the car start on its trajectory to the ground below. "No!" she screamed in horror.
"Fight it, Katy!" Thyme yelled in her ear. He placed both hands on her back, offering her a small well of strength to draw upon.
Katy nodded, saying no more. Squinting her eyes closed, she reached within, drawing Thyme's strength in and through her body, to send out the multi-coloured barrier that might deflect their fall.
The car arced downward, to land against her barrier like a jumper on to a trampoline. The vehicle bounced upwards - once - the worst of the impact shunted into the multi-coloured lights. The colour barrier shattered, flinging Katy backwards, so that she rolled across the charred grass.
Thyme left her then, to follow another line of trajectory. His sharp eyes had spotted what Katy had not - Mari's flight across open space. The jolting contact with the barricade had released Mari's arm from where it was jammed in the former window space, to send her on her own flight pattern as the car jounced upwards once again.
When he found her, Mari was sitting groggily against the wall of a small outbuilding, that Peter and Katy had used to house the ride-on mower. She was cradling her broken arm against her chest, and her expression was confused. But her words showed that she recognised her small friend. "Thyme," she said quietly, "I hate to ask, but could you find the healing stone?"
Thyme smiled. "It would be a pleasure, Mari Sullivan," he replied. Then, he watched as the car started on its return trip to the ground below. "And, the sooner the better," he added.
*
Katy, lying in the open, could see the car begin to drop once more. Although it was coming from a lesser height, the impact was still going to jar more than a few bones. Katy whimpered at her helplessness. All she could do was watch.
*
Direygayn's long neck swooped down, in preparation for snatching up whatever was left of her meal. Her sharp eyes spotted Katy lying on the ground, and her tongue readied for a quick snatch. At last, her jaws were free to function as they were meant to, and she pushed aside the birds' annoying intrusion - there would be more than enough room now to accommodate both breathing, and this wayward morsel.
*
Katy saw it all - the direction of the dragon's look - the downward inevitability of the car's fall - the inescapable outcome that she would not be there to see. It looks like I'm going back where I started - twice, she thought grimly, remembering the lava-like striations in the dragon's throat.
As the dragon swooped, and the car dropped, Dag struck once again, attacking fiercely and viciously with her bees in Direygayn's most vulnerable part. The dragon jerked with such force that her tail was yanked from beneath the building. Katy had a peripheral view of a great moving blackness that tapered to a lance-like point. Behind her, the building shuddered and dropped the rest of the way off its foundation.
The tail swept around, coming in the path of the falling car just as the metal was about to impact with the ground. The car bounced once more, rolled over three times, then came to rest upside down.
The force of the car, at that precise point on the dragon's tail, had an unexpected effect. The tail snapped, breaking apart to leave the severed tip bouncing and flapping against the ground, as full of movement as if it were still attached.
For Direygayn, it was the final blow. Shrieking in distress, she unfolded her leathery wings, and began to beat them wildly. Debris, dust, and embers flew, as the dragon lifted skywards. She circled once, looking back on her still wriggling tail-piece; bellowing her frustration, anger, and pain in hoarse, raucous cries that filled the night air.
Then, she turned away, desperate to seek both relief from pain, and easier game. In the war between pride and hunger, she decided, hunger must take precedence. Her stubbed-off tail whipped through the sky as she thought of the many indignities she'd been made to suffer. Pride will have its time, she swore loudly. But, those below heard it only as a long, shrill screech, that echoed briefly, then faded, as Direygayn flew into and through the moving lights of the inter-dimensional gate.
*
Thyme darted toward the tumbled car, his anxiety apparent in the uneven light of his aura. It is better that I see them first - before Mari - or Katy - do.
He made his way through one of several small holes that had formed in the metal, to end up in what used to be the back seat. There was no longer very much room in the back - there wasn't really anything that could be called a back, for that matter. Somehow, Trevor and Peter had contrived to remain in the front, through all the dives, flips, and jumps their passage had undergone. Thyme's aura showed Peter, still caught up in Trevor's arms - but this time, Trevor was supporting him. As Thyme's light flooded the car, he saw Trevor's face crease with a smile - a smile which Peter echoed. Thyme realised that Peter had already sensed his Katy was not only alive, but somewhere nearby.
"Is it gone?" Trevor asked.
"Most of it." Thyme grinned. Trevor took that as a good sign.
"Is Mari okay?" Trev looked at Peter, then added, "And Katy?"
"They will be better when I have uncovered the healing stone." He tilted his head to eye Trevor with amusement. "Mari would also be better for your presence, Rat Head, though I can't figure out why."
"Katy?" Peter's voice was concerned.
"Not aware of anything right now, Peter," Thyme said truthfully. What he didn't say was how much the healing crystal would be needed once she awoke - to counter the dragon's burning touch, to say nothing of the damage from being squished in the dragon's throat. Even Katy doesn't know how much she needs the crystal, Thyme thought. He summoned a smile for Peter's benefit. "Katy's energy reserves are too low." Peter nodded, some of the worry dying out of his eyes. Low energy levels were something that could be dealt with.
Thyme looked around at the crunched metal, irritation stirring red sparks in his eyes. "What have you done to my car?"
"What do you mean - 'what have you done'?" Trevor mimicked. "It's not like we had much choice!"
Peter said seriously, "At least you can't tell me I don't keep my promises to you, Thyme." His eyes tilted, and the fairy could see the glint in them as Peter continued. "You wanted the car out of the house - and poof! Here it is -"
Thyme hovered in his face long enough to tweak his nose. "In that case, it is gratifying to know that your house is in the same condition as my car, Peter Trevick."
In the distance, interrupted only by the whoosh of the roaring flames, came the sing-song wail of fire engines, drifting through the night air.
"Uh-oh," Trevor said worriedly. "We're in for it now."
Thyme nodded. "This does present a problem. I think I will encourage Mari to seek shelter."
"How'll you help Katy?" Peter asked. "It doesn't sound like she'll be able to move under her own power." The last thing in the world he wanted was for someone like Mader to get his hands on her again.
"No worries, Human," Thyme answered confidently. "Don't you remember my prowess with disguise?" He darted out through a hole, taking the light with him.
"It's good help's on the way," Trevor said. "I don't know how else we'd get out of here." He smacked one hand against the dented metal. "What's wrong with you?"
"Disguise, Trev. Thyme said disguise. Do you think he'll disguise Katy like he did Lily?"
Trevor thought of the horrid Dag and winced. He patted Peter's arm in commiseration. "The little shit will not only do it, but brag about it afterwards."
They were silent for a few minutes, listening as the wail of the fire engines grew louder. Trevor waited, wondering how to broach the subject that was bothering him. "Pete -" he began.
"Don't say it, Trev. I'm okay. Let's just forget about it."
"You will be okay, once Mari gets ahold of you. How's the chest, anyway?"
Peter tried to describe it. "No pain now, but it feels like someone's tap-dancing in there - but out of step, if you know what I mean."
Trevor reached down, following the line of Peter's arm to his wrist, in an attempt to take his pulse.
Peter shrugged him off. "Cut it out, Trev," he said irritably.
"What if you croak on me in here?"
"Is taking my pulse going to stop it?"
"Well - no -but, jeez, Pete - it was all my fault."
"It can't be all your fault if we made you do it, you idiot. We forced you to it."
"No one can force someone into doing something they don't want to." Trev was silent for what seemed like a long time. Finally, he spoke again. "Do you know what the worst part of it was, Pete?" Trevor sensed that Peter was listening intently, but was grateful his friend didn't speak. "The worst part of it was - when I was hurting you -" His voice broke, but he cleared it, then continued, "- some part of me knew it and -" He turned to look at Peter, glowing eyes dim with unhappiness, "- enjoyed it," he finished in a whisper.
"I know."
"You could feel it, too?" Trevor, watching Peter's eyes, saw him nod. "I'm really sorry, Pete," he said earnestly. "I just can't believe -"
"Trev," Peter interrupted. "I can believe it. I've been there - remember?"
"But you didn't know what was going on - and you weren't the one in control."
"I don't remember much, Trev. But there were certain times - when part of me was excited by the power Demascar had - the sheer freedom of not having to be 'good', or follow rules, or care what anyone thought. The power in not having to give a damn about anybody but me, and what I wanted - at whatever cost. The fact that it thrilled me - exhilarated me - is terrifying, Trev. Why do you think I'm so afraid that Demascar may have had a permanent effect on me?"
"Maybe you have to touch evil to know what to be scared of," Trevor said. "I've met a part of me I don't ever want to see again."
Peter smiled, but his eyes were serious. He rubbed his chest, remembering the pain he'd felt there. "Believe me when I say it's a part of you I don't want to see again, either."
*
Mari was arguing with Dag when Thyme approached. He listened to their squabbling, then moved to intervene. But first - unwilling to be outdone by Dag's prowess at disgusting their friends - Thyme quickly assumed his Spigot persona, to sweep in full of stench and drifting foulness. "Good evening, Ladies," Spigot offered in a hoarse, raspy voice, making certain to intersperse his words with a liberal spraying of saliva.
Dag roared with laughter, but Spig sensed a quiver of alarm, from Dag's person, as Lily reacted to his distasteful actions. The moment of awareness gave him pause, and he reappeared as Thyme, his voice becoming serious. "The sirens are close, Mari," he said. "A sound you have heard often, I am certain, but hardly welcome in this case."
Mari nodded, then wished she hadn't moved her head. "I need to hide, but where? And what about Trevor and the others?"
Thyme glanced at Dag, and saw her nod. "Trevor and Peter are still trapped, but not in immediate need of healing. Peter has some problem in his chest, and will need you later. Trevor -" Thyme grinned at her, "- has need of both your presence and your good sense, but he will keep."
Mari asked the question she'd been dreading. She'd sensed Katy was alive, but unlike Peter, whose happiness revolved around getting Katy back, in whatever shape she was in, Mari was concerned with how severe Katherine's injuries were - and how she'd keep her alive until her friend could be healed. "How's Katy?" Mari asked quietly.
"In one piece," answered Dag, realising this was the concern preying most on Mari's mind. "No portion of her has travelled aloft with the dragon." At this, Dag went into uproarious shrieks of laughter, and Thyme, once again, could detect Lily's quailing response to her alter-ego's insensitive comment.
Contrary to what he expected, he turned to find Mari glaring at him. She blames me for Dag's callousness, he realised. His aura brightening with irritation, Thyme huffed and puffed through the next few words. "Katy is not conscious, Mari Sullivan, but she is very much alive." To Dag, he said, "You could show some sensitivity, Fairy, to the feelings of these subcreatures." His tone was haughty, and he failed to see the shocked expression on Mari's face. He was too busy regretting his words, as he noted Dag's reaction. Her pleasure could only indicate that he'd given her something with which to use - or abuse - him. At that thought, haughtiness left, and nervousness moved in.
Mari gave a sigh of weariness, worry, and pain. "Did you find the healing stone yet, Thyme?" she asked.
"Yes, Thyme," mimicked Dag. "Did you find it?"
Thyme thought of all that had transpired in the last few moments, and considered listing his part in salvaging what had looked to be a hopeless situation. But then, he saw the two pairs of eyes watching him. They knew darn well he didn't have the healing stone, and were just waiting for him to make excuses. Dag, especially, wore a gloating look, as she anticipated making him squirm. The human could be forgiven her ill temper - she, at least, was fractious due to her own need for that small, but powerful, crystal.
Lily watched Thyme from behind Dag's mocking eyes. Her poor Thyme! She noted the fragile seepings of light around the edges of his aura, which betrayed the wear-and-tear of one who had fought bravely to save those he cared about. Her heart ached as she saw the discouragement in his face. He needed her now, and she strained to displace Dag - to be rid of her. But, Dag was part of herself - and she didn't know how to get her back in place.
Mari flinched as Dag's odoriferous foulness flared, and Lily appeared in her bright aura. But, this was a Lily who was strained and anxious - who reached out her hands to Thyme and blended her aura with his. "Oh, Thyme!" she said, tears pooling and beginning to fall. "I am sorry - I cannot control her -" In a whisk of time, the golden aura was gone, and Thyme, who had begun basking in Lily's warmth, found himself blending auras with a dung-stinking, sour-faced hag. The difference was so revolting that Thyme instinctively jerked away, in a spastic gesture that flung him head-over-heels, to land face first on to Mari's lap.
Mari used her good arm to pluck him up. Wary now, she sat him on her leg, and turned to face Dag - ready to defend Thyme against this hag who had somehow banished Lily.
Dag looked at the lines of defiance in Mari's set face, and laughed. "Very cute, Tetrak!" she said. Thyme looked stunned and horrified at Dag's - and by extension - Lily's knowledge of the word. Mari made a mental note not to ask what "tetrak" meant.
"I am pleased to inform you, Fairy, that what you see is what you get -" Dag gave him a blackened, crack-toothed smile, before spraying him with a gob of spittle, "- for as long as I command." She finished the words with another cackling laugh.
Then, she cocked her head and listened to the loud wails of the approaching fire engines. Their lights were a red glare that could now be seen over the red, yellow, and orange flames from Peter's and Katy's house. She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "Oh, good!" she said delightedly. "More humans to play with!" Turning to Thyme, she commanded, "Summon up Spigot, and let's go get 'em!"
"They are here for a purpose, Dag," Thyme said firmly. "To eradicate the fire before it takes to the forest rubble the hyphae has left behind." He pointed to the burning house. "To salvage what is left of that dwelling." He was about to add, "and to be tricked into releasing Peter and Trevor," then thought better of it.
Dag snorted. Her eagerness to annoy was warring with Lily's strong censure against harming the innocent. "Humph," she finally conceded. It was easier with the dragon, she thought. No one could condemn my attack against so cunning and wicked an adversary.
It was so much fun, she thought. Such a challenge to my skills - and such an opportunity to use them. In that moment, she vowed to seek the dragon once again. After we are finished with these subcreatures -
"We must move you to shelter, Mari," Thyme said. "Can you make your way inside this shed?"
"Light the way, Thyme," Mari said. "I'll be right behind you." She tried to stand up, failed, then settled for scooting around the corner. Panting, she leaned against the wall again. Her fist clenched, and Thyme knew how badly she was wishing for the crystal to ease her pain.
Meanwhile, Dag flitted impatiently by the door. "They come closer, Tetrak," she said hostilely.
Thyme ignored her, ensuring that Mari was positioned as comfortably as possible. "I'll be back," he assured her. "Mari needs the stone," he said to Dag, once he had closed the shed door. "While she is still fit enough to heal herself." He looked out at the lights, now sweeping up the driveway. "And Katherine needs to be disguised against discovery."
"You will be better at finding the stone than I," said Dag slyly. "My aura is not designed for the procurement of bright objects."
Thyme wondered at her excuse, thinking perhaps it was meant to stir him to argue once more. There was no time to quibble over this, with discovery, and its consequences for the humans, so close. He conceded to her suggestion. "And you?" he asked warily.
"I will tend to Katy," she replied mockingly. "You are not the only fairy proficient in disguise."
Oh, no, Thyme thought dismally. Just then, the sirens stopped, and the background roaring of flames was interrupted by the slamming of the fire trucks' doors. Urged to action, he nodded in silent agreement, then flitted toward the rear of the house. Somehow, I will make it all right later, he swore to himself.
Dag, meanwhile, was grinning as she sped toward Katy - a dark sludge wafting through the smoky sky. Disguise, she thought with glee, punctuating her amusement with coarse laughter. Not even her mother - or her lover - will know her, when I have finished.
***
