Fight and Flight (Magic 2.0 Book 4) Page 25

  “That gold is mine!” Kneath shouted at the man’s back.

  “Not if I get to it first!”

  Martin pointed his free, non-staff-holding hand at the man and said, “Radion de ruĝa lumo.” A ray of silver light shot from Martin’s hand, hitting the man just before he disappeared around a bend.

  Martin turned back to the crowd and slowly painted them all with the same ray of light he’d used to shoot the man.

  “This is a protection spell,” Martin said. “It will keep you safe from the terrors of the cave.” Actually, it was little more than a flashlight. A harmless bit of showmanship that helped make a wizard’s more-useful spells look interesting. In this case, since the dragons had been deliberately designed to not actually be able to hurt anybody anyway, the little bit of showmanship was all that Martin actually needed.

  A woman in the crowd asked, “What are the terrors of the cave?”

  “Dragons,” Martian said, turning his light show on the crowd. “Six full-grown, fire-breathing dragons, but take heart. Thanks to my magic, they cannot harm you. Their fire and their claws will cause you great pain, but no actual injury. Now, follow me!”

  Martin deactivated the magical ray and spun on his heels, finding himself face-to-face with Kneath.

  “That’s my gold,” Kneath said.

  Martin pointed back over his shoulder and said, “Explain that to them. I think they’ll find your plan to share it with them by buying stuff most interesting.” Martin stepped around Kneath, as did what appeared to be most of the population of Cardiff. Kneath stood silently as they flowed around him. Some motion above him caught his eye. He looked up and saw Phillip, floating over the crowd, looking down at him.

  Kneath yelled, “It was my gold!”

  Phillip said, “Some of it still can be. Radion de ruĝa lumo.” He hit Kneath with a beam of light similar to the one Martin had used on the crowd.

  Martin walked briskly. The crowd kept pace with him, but they seemed to do so reluctantly.

  Phillip glided forward and landed next to Martin, matching his pace.

  “How do you expect this to play out?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “That’s your plan? We’ll see? That’s not a plan.”

  “Sure it is. I plan to see.”

  “A plan is a set of steps that lead to a goal. We’ll see is not a plan.”

  Martin said, “The steps were to go to the nearest town, set up a portal back here, tell people about the gold, and tell them the dragons couldn’t hurt them. That’s four steps. The goal is to see what happens next.”

  “That’s not much of a goal.”

  “Really? You can’t tell me you don’t want to see what happens.”

  They didn’t have to wait much longer. They had walked through the forest far enough that they saw the mouth of the cave in the distance. Martin and Phillip maintained their pace all the way to the cave’s entrance, but the throng of people that had followed them slowed to a crawl. Everyone wanted to go into the cave, but nobody wanted to go in first, in case Martin’s magic proved too weak to protect them. The result looked similar to when children have a going-slow race, only in this case the competitors were adults, and they suspected that it might be a going-slow race to the death. Forward progress had nearly ground to a halt when the people at the front of the crowd started shouting that they heard something coming from the cave; then all progress did truly stop as everyone strained to hear.

  It sounded like footsteps, fast footsteps. One person running, but not well. The sound had a heaviness about it, like the person might be hindered somehow, possibly very tired, or injured. Then they heard the panting. Long, ragged breaths that grew louder along with the footfalls. The woods were silent. Most of the people in the crowd held their breath. Everyone who could see the cave entrance peered in, dreading the sight of the injured wretch they were certain would soon emerge, but not daring to look away for fear that they might not get to see him.

  Then, after what felt like an eternity, he emerged, the man who had left the crowd early, rushing in and ignoring all warnings in his haste. He had reaped the reward of his hasty actions. He seemed perfectly healthy, and he was carrying a small stack of solid-gold floor tiles. Gold is very heavy, so the bundle was a bit smaller than a cinder block, and was really more than he could carry, but gold is also very valuable, so despite the less-than-impressive size of his haul, it was more than enough to rivet everyone’s attention.

  “It’s true,” he wheezed. “What the wizard said is true! It’s more gold than I thought existed in the world, all right there for the taking!”

  “And what of the dragons?” an old man in the crowd shouted. “Did you see them?”

  The man carefully placed his load of gold on the ground, then sat on it, both to rest and to protect it from theft. He took a couple of heavy breaths and said, “Yeah, a bunch of them. I thought I was done for. Two got on either side of me and they both blew fire on me at once. It hurt like hell, but when they were done, I was fine.”

  The crowd ran into the cave.

  Martin and Phillip moved to the side and watched as the swift torrent of people flowed past them, disappearing into the dark. The sound of the crowd reverberated off the walls into a deafening roar. The pace slowed as the people at the front of the line felt their way through the dark. The sound seemed to agitate the dragons, which slowed the pace further, and flooded the cave and the treasure chamber with orange light. The entire crowd had gone in now, including Kneath. Martin and Phillip heard shouting, and roaring, and screaming, and more roaring, and then, in the end, cheering.

  They saw a dark silhouette of many flapping wings and flailing claws illuminated from behind by one last spiteful fireball. Martin created a goal hovering six feet above the ground, covering most of the cave exit. He and Phillip counted as all six dragons flew at top speed into it.

  Martin clapped his hands and said, “Just as I’d planned.”

  Phillip said, “You didn’t plan that.”

  Martin said, “We’ve already established that my plan was to see what happened. That just happened, and I saw it.”

  34.

  When Gwen and Brit the Younger remembered that Jeff borrowed large portions of the dragons’ code from sheep, they had asked the four experienced shepherds they’d been hanging around with how they herded sheep. It just seemed like the obvious solution.

  They learned that herding sheep was challenging out in the open, but could be made much easier using pens, gates, and trained dogs. Applying this knowledge to their current problem seemed, again, like the obvious solution.

  The dragons were much larger than sheep, so the pen needed to be that much larger as well. The dragons could fly, so the pens needed to be three-dimensional. Those parameters, combined with Brit’s love of crafting large structures out of molecularly perfect diamond, led to the sight of five dragons swirling around chaotically inside a mammoth crystalline cube, which itself hovered motionless above the Scottish Highlands. It perfectly illustrated the idea that a long series of obvious solutions can lead to an improbable result.

  Trained dogs were indispensable to the process, but they posed two problems: dogs were quite small, and couldn’t fly.

  While Brit worked on the diamond cube, Gwen set about solving the dog problem. The Scotsmen happily agreed to lend Gwen the use of their dogs, on the condition that no harm would come to them. She selected the four best and got to work.

  Gwen pieced the macro together using bits of existing macros, assets from old video games, and a rough flight-steering mechanic controlled by measurements of how fast the dog ran and what direction it pointed its nose. When she finished, she applied the macro to the dogs. The results were not promising. The four mixed-breed sheepdogs instantly disappeared, replaced by four identical winged horses, all of which appeared to b
e wading chest deep through the solid ground while flapping their wings.

  She made the Pegasus shells transparent when viewed from the inside, so the dogs were oblivious to their own appearance. They each ran around, chasing the strange flapping-winged creatures that they didn’t realize were their fellow dogs. They scooted around on the ground like bumper cars, emitting barking and growling noises. Gwen worried that they would never discover that they could fly, but then one of the dogs looked up, for whatever reason, and rose into the air.

  Of course, it stopped dead in its tracks as soon as it realized what it had done. The animated Pegasus hovered two feet above the ground, looking noble, but emitting a frightened whining noise. All of the other dogs looked up at it, and they all rose above the ground as well, also screeching to a halt and whining pitifully.

  She was just about to pull the plug on the experiment and try to think of something else when one of the winged horses slowly inched forward. It angled down, back into the ground. Ran a few steps, then lifted back into the air. It repeated these touch-and-go maneuvers several times, with increasing speed and confidence. The other dogs followed suit, and less than a half hour after discovering that they could fly, the dogs were playing with each other in the air every bit as gracefully as they had on the ground.

  A quick transportation spell later, the crystalline cube full of flying dragons was a crystalline cube full of dragons and winged horses. It would have looked like a poster on a bookish girl’s bedroom wall if not for the four screaming Scotsmen standing beneath the cube, shouting orders and encouragement that their dogs could not hear and did not need.

  Despite the complete unreality of the situation, the dogs’ herding instincts kicked in just as firmly as the sheep-dragons’ grass-eating instincts. The flying horses flanked and outmaneuvered the dragons easily, and soon they had the dragons flying laps of the sphere’s interior as if it had all been choreographed in advance. As the dragons gathered toward one end of the cube, Brit made a diamond wall slide forward, trapping the dragons in a smaller space, much as a gate would in a pen.

  Brit conjured up a goal, and decorated it with an immense wooden gate in hopes that the sheep dogs piloting the winged horses would recognize it as a good place to herd the dragons. She held one end of the gate and flew in a quarter circle, swinging the gate open. She noted with satisfaction that the giant hinge even squeaked convincingly.

  The dogs took notice, directing the dragons directly toward the goal. The dragons no longer seemed afraid of it, as they had when it appeared directly in front of them while they were flying full speed.

  Then again, Brit thought, pretty much anything appearing out of thin air right in front of your face when you’re flying full speed is bound to scare the crap out of you.

  The dragons flew through the goal, probably expecting to come out the other side like they would have any other gate. Instead, they were obliterated. Each Pegasus peeled off well before reaching the gate, but Brit had been ready with a force field if they hadn’t. As soon as the final dragon sailed through the goal into nothingness, she quickly eradicated the goal as well, just to prevent any accidents.

  The men far below cheered themselves hoarse. Gwen drifted over to Brit.

  Brit said, “I must say, your Peg—Hmm. What’s the plural of Pegasus?”

  “Winged horses.” Gwen said, “Unless you want to sound silly.”

  “Fair enough. They did a great job.”

  “I know, right?!”

  “Of course, watching them work, it did occur to me that they weren’t really necessary. Once we had the dragons trapped in the cube, we could have just put the goal at one end and made the walls close in until the dragons had nowhere else to go.”

  Gwen thought about this for a moment, then said, “Yeah, well, this way looked a lot cooler.”

  The two sorceresses landed in front of the cheering men. Brit erased the diamond sphere while Gwen brought the winged horses back down to earth, then deactivated the macro, turning them back into earthbound dogs. The dogs received a hearty round of pets, rubs, ear scritches, and attaboys, but they still looked severely put out that they could no longer fly.

  Brit checked the dragon map, which confirmed that Scotland was free of dragons. As a courtesy, they flew the men to a spot about a one-hour walk from their village. There, they said their goodbyes.

  “Jock,” Brit said, “you’re a strong man, and a good leader. Coira is a lucky woman, and little Effie and Nessa are fortunate to have you for a father.”

  Gwen continued, “And Kyle, you’re a stalwart friend and a fearsome warrior. We were all worried when you fell injured, but we should have known it would take more than dragons to tear you away from your Morag. Keep watch over little Rut. If she grows to be half as lovely as her mother, you’ll be fighting off boys with a stick.”

  Kyle blushed slightly, and said, “One day mayhap, but it will be quite a while before I face those kinds of problems.”

  Mungo said, “I’m not so sure. I think my Torquil may have designs on young Rut.”

  Kyle said, “Torquil’s a fine lad.”

  Mungo said, “Thank you.”

  Kyle said, “Keep him away from my little girl.”

  Mungo laughed.

  Brit interrupted the decidedly downhill flow of the conversation, quickly saying, “Mungo! Dear Mungo. In many ways, I may miss you most of all. Please know that you have both Gwen’s and my respect and friendship.”

  Mungo nodded. Gwen cleared her throat. Brit looked at Gwen, who tilted her head toward Mungo and widened her eyes. Brit spent half a second seething at Gwen, then continued, “And do give our best to your little ones, Jinny, Seonag, and Torquil, and your wife, Grizel.”

  Mungo smiled, as did Gwen as she looked at the last man remaining.

  “Leslie, you’re the youngest man here, but you’re as brave and capable as any of your friends. Go home and make a good life for yourself with Donalda.” She paused, then stuck a finger in his face. “And for everybody’s sake, especially your own, you stay away from Morag!”

  35.

  “There,” Gary said, taking a deep, satisfied breath. “I think that looks pretty good.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Tyler stifled the urge to laugh while looking utterly disgusted, which is a difficult trick to pull off.

  “Whatever. The point is, it’ll work.”

  “No, it won’t.”

  “What are you talking about? You agreed that this is a good plan.”

  “I most certainly did not. I never said that this was a good plan. I said it was a ridiculous plan, but that you should go ahead and do it anyway, and I only said that because I wanted to see what your idea of a fake sexy lady dragon would look like.”

  Gary looked back up at his handiwork. “And I think it looks pretty good. What’s wrong with it?”

  “What’s wrong with it? Everything about it is wrong. It’s an exercise in pure wrongness. It’s wrong that you thought of it. It’s wrong that you had such specific ideas about how it should look. It’s wrong that it’s wearing makeup. It’s wrong to give a reptile mammary glands. And worst of all, it’s wrong that you got all the way through making it without once looking at what you were doing and thinking, This is wrong.”

  Gary said, “It’s a first attempt—I was bound to make a few mistakes. I’ll admit, it could be better.”

  Tyler said, “Could be better? I don’t know how it could be worse.”

  As they looked at Gary’s creation, behind them they heard Phillip say, “Oh no. Oh no, no, no.”

  Tyler cringed.

  Martin just laughed, and kept laughing.

  Gary said, “Guys! What brings you here?”

  Phillip tried to explain, but he couldn’t really concentrate while standing anywhere near Gary’s fake sexy lady dragon. It looked like
the standard model of nonhorned dragon, except for the modifications Tyler mentioned, plus a narrower waist, fuller hips, and eyelashes as long and thick as unsharpened pencils. “We got done with our dragons,” Phillip said, weakly. “We saw you chaps still had one, so we thought we’d come help.”

  “You’re beyond help,” Martin gasped, doubled over with laughter. “Nobody can . . . fix . . . what’s wrong . . . with you.” He glanced back up at the sexy lady dragon and gave up talking, letting the laughs take over completely.

  Phillip looked at Tyler and Gary and said, “Please say something that will make this better.”

  Gary said, “We were desperate.”

  Martin kept laughing. Phillip muttered, “I did ask.”

  Gary said, “Oh come on guys, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

  Phillip said, “I was thinking that you intended to try to lure the last remaining dragon in your area with this awful thing you’ve made. Are you telling me that’s not what’s going on here?”

  “No,” Gary said. “You’re right. It’s that.”

  For the first time since he was a very small child, Martin literally fell down laughing.

  Tyler said, “This last dragon’s been a real problem.”

  “So you’ve resorted to using ideas you’ve stolen from Wile E. Coyote?”

  Gary said, “A good idea’s a good idea, no matter where it comes from.”

  Martin sat on the ground and whined, “Oh God! No air! Can’t breathe!”

  Phillip said, “Did it never occur to you that Mister Coyote wasn’t famous because he caught Road Runner so many times?”

  Tyler waved his arms, as if trying to erase the last several seconds much like one would erase a chalkboard. “Okay, look, you’re right. This thing here is Gary’s doing. I was just a spectator. But you’ve gotta understand, he was driven to this. We got it down to one dragon right away, but this last dragon, it’s been complicated.”