Regarding the Cranmers, while they had lost Kusunoki, they had gained Paulina, Marcus’s mother. William and Adel had taken the poor woman into their home in Albany. Paulina was beyond grateful, as was Marcus, who would also become an officially adopted Cranmer. Adel too felt gratitude for this arrangement. She very much enjoyed the company of her new house guest. Before long, Paulina had succeeded in brightening her host’s dark outlook.

Kaneie, as it turned out, was to become a full fledged samurai. Asano’s men were pardoned because Kira had been killed not by them but by a Tortured One. Kaneie wanted to return to Japan and join a daimyo of the Shogun’s choosing, but for now he would continue the quest with his cousins. As a samurai, it was the right thing to do.

As for Livia, Zopyros was still angry with her for disobeying his edict against adventuring (yet Tim noticed even as he chastised his precious daughter he kept hugging her and telling her how very brave she was). Her brothers and sisters pestered her constantly for details of the quest thus far. She provided them, never missing a chance to report anything that cast Tim and Marcus in a less than flattering light.

The last of the four, Tim, continued to ponder and ponder. Had the Lake of Light really spoken to him in his dream? Would he really be killing his brother by trying to save him? Triggering the events by simply showing up as fate directed? It was all very maddening.

Still, as far as Tim was concerned, things were looking fairly up. They possessed one third of the sacred waters. He had adventured fairly well, even though most of the time he’d been terrified. New experiences, as when he found himself at the helm on the Liber, felt like doors opening to exciting new worlds. Sure, he had lived like an explorer his whole life, but never before had he felt like an adventurer: someone carrying a vague but vital itinerary and faced daily with unknown perils having only his wits to guide him. Oh, and his friends and family too.

All too soon the twentieth Cranmer reunion drew to a close. After one last round of Cracker Jacks and ice cream, as the sun blared its final trumpet call of light, they gathered by the pond to say their farewells. Dr. Cranmer said his quickly for he’d forgotten about his date with Doris. He gave William a wink before shuffling off with his cane. When he’d left the fairgrounds behind, he took from his pocket a small remote control, clicked a button, and a building of bamboo and palm fronds appeared with a sharp pop beneath a set of overhead tracks.

Once inside, Dr. Cranmer thought, I need you Doris, right now, more than ever. Come to me. From its sleeve, he withdrew a record. Then began his soul-restoring ritual; the switching on of the phonograph, the correct positioning and dropping of the needle, and the retrieval the Martha’s picture. He would now play her favorite song and when he did this she lived again, at least in his mind. Leaning back in his chair, he squeezed shut his eyes, feeling Doris Day’s words flowing over him. Soothing as a warm bubble bath. Reassuring as a touch that heals.

He was home again.

* * *
The end]]> http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?feed=rss2&p=1810 0 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1791 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1791#comments Sat, 05 Feb 2011 20:43:23 +0000 seanharrigan http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1791 By this time, Kusunoki had reached the top floor and was racking his brain for some speedier means of ascent for the others. In the room there were only four objects but, as fortune had it, they met his needs precisely; they were cast-iron statues of animals, one in each corner. He couldn’t ask for better counterweights.

Kusunoki yelled down the shaft, “Can you hear me?” After someone answered yes he continued, “One of you tie the rope tightly around your waist. Then stand at the north side of the shaft and brace yourself. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

Kusunoki inched the statue of an ox up to the shaft’s edge. Then, standing on the creature’s ample back, he removed the rope from a hook hanging from the ceiling and threw it across two widely spaced beams. After securing the rope to the statue, having dismounted the ox, he leaned over the shaft and yelled down to get ready. Now came the tricky part. Kusunoki nudged the statue a few inches and he said a silent prayer as the black monstrosity fell into darkness, the rope suddenly whistling against the beams. Below him a profanity echoed as vile as it was loud. The perpetrator turned out to be his own son, much to his dismay. Kaneie looked quite pale but equally pleased as he dangled from the ceiling. Kusunoki frowned and said, “Kaneie, shame on you. That was a very naughty word. One of the worst ones in English.”

“Sorry, Dad. Can I go again?”

Tim and Livia followed in close succession. By now, Marcus had a pretty good idea what was coming and he didn’t much like it. Being jerked hundreds of feet into the air in the space of a second. Swords he could deal with. Knives, sure. Arrows, naturally. But heights…

When his turn came he shakily tied the rope about his waist and took one last, mournful look at the safe floor before taking instant flight into the impenetrable darkness. Throughout the experience, he was surprised to find his mouth stayed shut, only to unexpectedly let out an unconscious yell when, upon reaching the apex, he perceived a robed figure with slicked-back hair standing before him. Marcus reached for his sword but remembered he was dangling like a helpless marionette over a hundred foot shaft. Should he throw his sword? What if he missed?

“What do you plan to do Marcus, throw your sword?” Theron stepped out of the shadows, behind the robed figure. “Do you realize how easy it would be for me to sever your lifeline? A flick of my wrist stands between you and your death.”

“Do you want that young man’s blood on your hands, Josiah?” Kusunoki demanded. It was then that Marcus realized that the robed figure was probably Tim’s uncle Josiah. Marcus wished Theron would cut the rope and end his misery. He’d never felt so helpless in his life.

“No,” Josiah claimed, not quite convincingly, “I am not completely heartless, Kusunoki. To prove that I will allow you to pull Marcus to safety. But don’t try my patience, or I will kill the boy myself.”

Kusunoki nodded and stood flush against the shaft’s edge, saying, “Marcus, listen carefully. Swing your legs back and forth. I will grab you when I can reach.”

Marcus complied, swinging his legs, slowly building up a pendulous movement. When his momentum brought him within reach of Kusunoki, the rope was cut and Marcus was pulled to safety.

“How do we get down now?” Marcus wondered.

“There is a hidden elevator,” Tim explained. “It wasn’t on the map.”

“All done?” Josiah barked. “Good. Now let’s proceed with the business at hand.”

Josiah led them through a shoji into another sanctum-like room with the same five pedestal arrangement with one small but significant difference: the light playing about the glass case on the center pedestal was a golden yellow. Once again a stoppered bottle held the liquid as one had the Water of Beulah. About two paces from the case, a look of fascination flowering across her face, stood a short-haired, blond woman in her thirties wearing the odd combination of a Japanese sword and western cloths. Marcus was even more fascinated with her than she appeared to be with the shimmering water. With some difficulty, he shifted his gaze away from the remarkable woman to take a quick head count of his compatriots. Somehow they had managed to cram into the tight space. Before lifting the glass case, the blond took a cautious step backward.

“Are you sure it’s all right?” Josiah nodded to her and she took down the display case. Removing the bottle from its pedestal, she held the colored liquid up to her face, shafts of bright yellow light stabbing between her fingers. “Amazing!” she said, handing it to Josiah, who inspected it briefly before plunging it into a bag tied to his belt.

“You don’t actually think I’ll let you walk out of here with that, do you Josiah?” Kusunoki drew his sword.

“I can guarantee I won’t be walking,” Josiah said. “But before I go, there is one thing I would like to discuss with you. I would…”

“You can take your job offer and shove it,” Kusunoki said. “But there is one job I would like to apply for. Sanitation engineer. I’m going to take care of the trash before it stinks up the global village.”

But before Kusunoki could make a move towards Josiah, Theron maneuvered between them and began his attack. Caught off his guard, Kusunoki never recovered his footing and was forced into a series of backward steps. Marcus recognized the technique immediately, tried to shout a warning to Kusunoki, who stumbled, ripped a gaping hole in the wall, staggered outside onto a narrow balcony. The snapping flaps of paper drowned out Marcus’s words.

It happened in an instant, as Marcus knew it would. Once Theron gained the advantage, he drew from his belt his short sword and buried it up to the hilt in Kusunoki’s abdomen, then twisted the blade upward. Fatally wounded, the former samurai fell heavily to the floorboards where he drew a last, fluttery breath.

“I must thank you for introducing me to that excellent technique, young Marcus,” Theron said, sheathing his swords. “It is quite a ahead of it’s time. It will be called blitzkrieg.”

All the color had drained from Kaneie’s face. Even had Marcus been of sound enough mind to respond, he would have been interrupted by Kaneie who yelled something and let fly an arrow nearly point blank at Theron’s head, but the head disappeared (along with the rest of him) in a flash of lime-green light.

“They can shift without the shift-pads,” Tim said.

The blond woman Marcus had noticed earlier suddenly took a quite inexplicable fancy to him.

“This young pup here possesses a katana,” she said, drawing near him. The fascination which the vial had inspired on her face had been replaced by–not disgust exactly, nor even disapproval…closer to skepticism. He felt her leather vest brush against him as she leaned forward slightly. “Let’s have a look at it,” she said.

Shocked and saddened by Kusunoki’s death, Marcus was amazed to find himself passively allowing the strange woman to withdraw his sword from its scabbard. Perhaps there was another reason for his inaction. It was as though he implicitly trusted her. Why he felt this instant connection he could not say. She smiled mischievously, balancing the blade in one hand, examining closely the handle, testing its grip, then slid it back from whence it came. As she performed these actions, her splendidly radiant face (a few inches from his own) filled his vision. He thought he even scented her breath. Icy like mint but sweet like Chrysanthemums. Her eyes shone with a comforting peril.

“Now, young man,” she said, taking four steps back, “let’s see what you can do with it.”

It was then that Marcus emerged from the trance she had somehow placed him under. She was the enemy. Her flirtations were mind games meant to distract him from his purpose. She would try to kill them all, just as Theron had murdered Kusunoki. He would not allow that to happen. This was no game. This was life or death. Life for him and his, vs. death for her and hers.

His was the first attack. It fell true and swift, but she had successfully anticipated him as she would continue to anticipate, and counter, his every move. Over time, his swings grew tighter and more cautious while hers were delivered with considerable strength and accuracy. She soon would prevail, leaving Marcus utterly vanquished, sitting on the wooden floor with his legs in a V, staring up at her in star-struck amazement. His vanquisher gave him a sympathetic smile and sheathed her katana.

“Nice try, kiddo,” she said just before both she and Josiah vanished with a familiar flash of green light.

“We were so close!” Marcus leaped to his feet yelling like a madman. “So damn close! Now we’ve lost this one too!”

“You mean this Water of Los stuff?” Livia said, the vial lying flat upon the palm of her hand, her forearm soaked in its golden glow. “Looks kinda like radioactive pee.”

Marcus lowered his sword. “How…?”

“While you were fighting I tried the invisi-shield again. The T1s must have been killed because it worked and luckily Uncle Josiah turned out to be an easy mark…”

“I could kiss you,” Marcus said, grabbing her shoulders. And he almost did too, but something held him back. Maybe it was the look of horror on Livia’s face.

Mindful of Kaneie, they stepped through the gaping hole in the wall and joined him staring blankly off into the distance. Livia placed her arm around him and they all regarded the same black nothingness. The wind tugged them first toward the abyss, then slapped their faces backward with a biting cold. Snow drifted in grain-sized flakes, growing swiftly to the size of wood shavings. Sticking in their lashes, melting into their mouths, dripping down into their clothes, the snow assaulted them; still they did not move. They would not have budged even had the building started to collapse beneath their feet. Not all the Tortured Ones from Albion could have moved them from that spot. They stood, wrapped in a dark silence, until they heard behind them the scuffing of Dr. Cranmer’s cane against the wind-cooled floorboards. ]]> http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?feed=rss2&p=1791 0 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1771 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1771#comments Fri, 28 Jan 2011 16:46:44 +0000 seanharrigan http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1771 Goro tipped his head back as far as he could, attempting to pinpoint Kusunoki’s ascending form in the darkness. The rope shook from side to side. Grunting sounds came from above. Then Goro heard the man he’d stationed at the entrance calling out to him. This had better be good, Goro thought. But before he could reach the front door, a terrific rumbling sound came from outside, as if the ground had just opened up. An earthquake? Then more calls for assistance. The earthquake sounds were good enough for Goro. This was no false alarm with which they were dealing.

When Goro reached the scene of the disturbance, he came upon a red-scaled beast shaped like a scorpion. It skittered about, swung its massive pincers, flexed its tail displaying a nasty stinger long enough to run a man through. The T-scorp (they had been so named by Dr. Archibald Cranmer) readied for battle with Goro and his half-dozen men.

“It came out of the ground,” the guard said, horrified.

“What is it?” someone asked.

“Hellspawn,” Goro said. “Let’s send it back home.”

Unfortunately, ranged weapons proved ineffective. Arrow after arrow bounced harmlessly off its scales.

“I’ve got an idea,” one of Goro’s men said, grabbing hold of the T-scorp’s tail just below the stinger.

“What are you attempting?” Goro yelled.

Whatever the fellow’s idea had been, it wasn’t working. Again and again the creature smacked him against the ground. Still he hung on. A knife appeared in his hand and he started hacking at the tip of the scorpion’s tail where the stinger began. Unfortunately, the scales were too thick and would not give.

“It’s no use,” Goro yelled. “Get off there.”

Too late. With a sickening squelch of flesh and bone, the poor fellow was brought down one final time to the frozen earth where he lay still, dead.

“All right, demon-thing,” Goro said, drawing his sword. “It’s my turn.”

The T-scorp stood at the far end of a patch of ice which stretched towards them like a red carpet. Goro dove feet-first, slid along it, stalled his forward momentum by jamming his sword into the creature’s belly. After executing a quick roll, he leaped clear of the tail, which swung downward with incredible force. The creature seemed little more than irritated by the katana.

“Stay here,” Goro instructed his men. “That’s an order.” He then ran for the river with the enraged creature scampering in pursuit.

“What is HE attempting?” he heard from behind him.

To save your asses, Goro thought as he slid down the embankment and skidded out onto the river’s frozen surface. The creature closed in behind and they both spent a few moments slipping and sliding about until they achieved an adequate purchase. “All right,” Goro said, “let’s see what you can do.” He readied his bow and sent an arrow at its head. He hoped to drive it into a blind rage. It worked beautifully. The tail came roaring down for a killing stroke. Goro dodged at the last moment and the stinger hit the ice with a bone-jarring sound.

“Again,” said Goro. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Down came the tail once more. And once more Goro sidestepped. Another crack was added a few feet from the first one. Circling his adversary in this manner, Goro surrounded it with fissures.

“One more time, big guy,” Goro said. “I’ll bet that sword smarts down there.”

Screaming, the creature thrust its tail in a downwards arc. A giant disc of ice broke free. The T-scorp scampered for balance on the tilting and bobbing platform, but ultimately slipped into the rushing waters below. That was the last they would see of the T-scorp.

Goro’s men cheered from the bridge as their commander brushed off a layer of ice shavings and returned to the river’s bank muttering about the loss of his sword. ]]> http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?feed=rss2&p=1771 0 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1716 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1716#comments Fri, 21 Jan 2011 16:40:38 +0000 seanharrigan http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1716 Trapped in the open without any decent cover, the ronin faced an increasingly desperate and bloody battle. Two of them were killed by arrows, and half-a-dozen seriously wounded, before the T1s had been successfully dispatched. By that point everyone was too exhausted and saddened by the loss of their comrades to experience much joy. At most, they felt some pain-soured relief.

“I shall escort our young friends into the castle,” Kusunoki said to Goro, “what about you?”

“Might as well tag along,” Goro said. “Perhaps Kira has grown courageous and is preparing to commit seppuku at my feet.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Kusunoki said. “Courageous is not something one tends to grow. Even more cynical and desperate is much more likely. And let’s just say I feel fairly confident of how this will play out. No, Kira will not outgrow his Kiraness.”

“No trouble. We’ll do the job for him.”

Kusunoki sighed, flung open the wooden double doors, and they all proceeded inside; all but a single guard who at Goro’s instructions remained stationed at the entrance. The rest of them passed through several rooms until they reached the center of the castle where they came upon a shaft presumably reaching all the way to the top level. A rope dangled down from the darkness. The world’s cheapest stairs, Tim thought.

“This looks like a test of endurance,” said Marcus.

“Nobody say you-know-what,” Livia said.

“Too bad we don’t have any of your cousin Henry’s levit8r things.”

“Can’t call him for help this time either. Com-u-links and shields are down. That must mean there are still more T1s about. Troubling thought.”

Kusunoki gave Livia a “keep quiet” look as he removed his armor, retaining his sword, and began climbing the rope.

“Father,” Kaneie said, “don’t retrieve the sacred waters without us.”

Kusunoki said, “Once I have reached to the top floor, I shall assess the situation. Stay here.”

“Good luck,” Goro yelled up as Kusunoki disappeared into the shadows. Rubbing his stubbly chin, he said, “I wonder if that slime Kira is slithering through his little tunnel right now.”

* * *

“Ouch!” Kira yelled in the darkness when someone stepped on his foot. “Watch where you are going, you buffoon!”

“Apologies, Kira-san,” said the offending samurai, “but it I have difficulty seeing in the dark.”

“I know that. But it is not my fault that I was in too much of a hurry and forgot to bring a lantern. Must I think of everything?”

“No.”

“Yes, I do. If I left my fate to my retainers, I would have been dead a long time ago. I don’t know how the Shogun could think are you his best men. How is that possible?”

“I am uncertain about that.”

Water trickled somewhere in the passage. In mysterious strips of light, Kira could make out strange, multi-colored shapes blossoming. Some sort of mushrooms? The air seemed to ooze, putrid with the stench of rotting things. Kira held his breath as much as possible.

“The whole country is in a slump,” he continued. “The samurai are a shadow of what they once were. A once mighty class has fallen into lethargy and disrepute.”

“Is that why you are escaping through this tunnel?”

“Who said that?” Kira hissed, drawing to a halt.

“I said, yes Kira-san–what you say is no doubt true.”

At the end of the passage, Kira came upon a door, squeaked it open, and saw before him in the moonlit dark Oishi and his fellow ronin. Slamming shut the door, Kira said, “Oishi…out there…want his head.” Having received their order, the samurai rushed forward and launched into pitched battle. A sudden burst of wind slammed the door behind them. Kira considered his options. Should he return to the castle? The wisdom of that depended on two things: one, that the Tortured Ones had succeeded in annihilating everyone back there; and two, that his allies had shown up at all, for Kira refused to trust in any living thing. Yes, clearly it would behoove him to remain in the tunnel until things played out on that front. Should the samurai fail, he could retreat to the castle. Once there, he would find a place to hide.

He cracked the door open to check on the situation. His samurai were making a fine show of themselves, although three had already fallen. Kira had to admire the martial skills of these men, the glinting of their katana in the moonlight, the way they fell to their deaths without so much as a whispered complaint. But that was okay for them. Why should he fight? Brains were better than courage any day. Honor was a word for the deluded and the dead.

As for his job, that was just a job.

Emboldened by the success of his men, Kira threw open the door to observe the battle. Somewhere above he heard buzzing wings. Giant buzzing wings. Stepping gingerly into the open, he looked up. Impossible. Several enormous dragonflies circled overhead. Kira rubbed his eyes, but when he opened them again, the creatures were still there. A thick, black substance spewed from one of them, splatting upon a ronin’s head. There was a horrible sizzling sound. The ronin tore his helmet off just before the dragonfly juice could burn through to his head.

Panicking with the thought that he wore only a kimono, Kira made a mad dash for the woods.

“Kira is escaping,” Oishi yelled. “Is no one able to stop him?” But apparently no one could, for soon Kira had reached the trees. But, instead of making good his escape, he decided to turn back to be sure he’d shouted a sufficiently scathing parting insult at Oishi. Unfortunately, and before he could utter a word, a T1 took the opportunity to spray him with black goo. This time the dragonfly juice covered the victim completely. In seconds, Kira had been reduced to nothing but smoking kimono shreds and a pile of scorched bones.

Everyone stopped fighting. Kira’s head guard strode over to the mess and spat upon it. Turning to Oishi, he said, “As I was commanded against my will to protect this vile piece of human filth, I bear you no grudge.”

“Nor I you, samurai,” Oishi said. “Shall we finish these flying beasts before they cause more havoc?”

They exchanged smiles, took up their bows, and went to work.]]> http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?feed=rss2&p=1716 0 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1671 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1671#comments Fri, 14 Jan 2011 20:12:23 +0000 seanharrigan http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1671 The Drifters’ castle had been built on a steep hill next to a quiet river. There was but one entrance; a single door set into a twenty foot revetment of massive stone slabs. A stand of trees surrounded the towering structure. As with most of the castles thereabouts, each floor was smaller than the one beneath it. Across the frozen river, a red bridge of wood arced, creating a serene tableaux.

As the 47 ronin drew near to their target, they split into two groups. One was led by Kusunoki, the other by Oishi. Kusunoki’s team planned a frontal assault on the front gate, while Oishi would locate the secret passage in the woods and prevent Kira from escaping. Once inside the castle walls, Goro would separate from Kusunoki who would assist Tim and the others in their quest, while the other team would find Kira.

Oishi’s men headed off into the woods. At Kusunoki’s signal, the remaining team took cover behind trees and crept forward moving stealthily from tree to tree as they drew nearer to the castle walls. When they came within sight of the entrance, they spotted a guard standing beside the door.

“No doubt, there is a guard inside as well,” Goro whispered to Kusunoki.

“I will take him out first.”

“Tell me you have another way in besides this.”

“I believe I do. You just keep your eye on the doors. I’ll have them open in a few minutes.”

“A man of mystery,” Goro said as Kusunoki slunk into the woods.

Once out of sight, Kusunoki approached the dusk-darkened wall and took from his armor a pair of crampons. In less than a minute, he was over and in. He then made his way around to the front door where he hid behind a thick wooden column. From there he observed the patterns of the sentry’s watch for several minutes. At the precise moment when the guard would swivel about, Kusunoki placed him in a nasty chokehold with one arm while with the other he removed the brightly-painted helmet and knocked his victim unconscious with it. Then, after dragging guard number one into the shadows, he called out to guard number two, “Hey, you! Come quick!”

“Who is that? How did you get in there?”

The giant door squeaked open, but before the guard could enter, one of Goro’s men tackled him to the ground. Goro strolled through the open doorway and regarded Kusunoki’s unconscious victim with amusement, saying, “You used your helmet trick, didn’t you?”

“Place seems empty,” Tim said as they climbed the stone stairway leading to the castle proper. All was perfectly still. A few snowflakes began drifting down.

* * *

At that moment, inside the castle, on the second floor, Kira heard the proximity detector drone miserably. His two hour soak in the hot tub had come to an abrupt end. He groaned to his feet, threw a silk kimono over his pruned skin, and grabbed the com-u-link. Deng Lup answered straight away.

“General,” Kira said, “Oishi is here. He is attacking the castle. Luckily my family has not yet arrived.”

“I will send what men I can,” General Geng Lup said grumpily. “Obviously we were misinformed about the time of their attack.”

“Obviously,” Kira said.

“My men will be there soon. Try not to interfere with their work, Kira.”

“Are you kidding?” Kira screeched. “I’m sneaking out the back. Good luck getting that bowl or whatever.”

Despite the attack, Kira decided against donning his armor. There might not be time. In any case, he needn’t bother since the samurais sent by the Shogun stood by fully armed and armored and ready for action. Their orders, which came directly from the Shogun, were to forfeit their lives to protect Kira, whether they liked him or not; and they did not.

Kira banged open the shoji and yelled out, “It’s time. There is not a moment to lose. We must take the secret passage.”

At the end of a long passageway, they came upon a panel painted with two entwined tigers. Kira stuck his finger into one of the tiger’s ears and slid the panel aside. He peered into the passage ahead and shivered with the damp cold issuing from the darkness.

“Finally,” he said, “after a year of lying awake in fear of my own murder, it shall be over. The Tortured Ones will dispose of my enemies once and for all. These scaled man-beasts will make excellent allies for the Shogun as well.”

“I don’t trust them,” the head samurai said, following Kira into the tunnel. “They aren’t human.”

“What do you know, idiot?” Kira closed the panel behind them and waved his men forward. “Tell you what, leave the politics to me and I’ll leave the swordplay to you. With them by our side no one would dare stand against us. I wouldn’t want to be that Josiah Cranmer fellow. General Deng Lup means to boil him alive, I hear.”

* * *

At the top of the stairs, Kusunoki and his men encountered no resistance. In fact, they found no one at all. That is, except for a lanky fellow in a cloak who walked up to them seemingly out of nowhere. Tim assumed from the dark hair spilling forth from beneath his hood that it was Dzendle. And sure enough, when the hood came back Livia yelled out, “Dzendle!”

Dzendle bowed and said, “I have been tracking your progress. I offer my assistance to you in your quest for the Waters of Lake Los.”

“Looks like don’t need much help,” Marcus said, gesturing to the empty courtyard around them.

Then came a scream. From the sky. And it sounded very familiar.

“I hope they’re friendly this time,” Livia said.

“With our luck, no,” Tim said.

“Here they come.”

These dragons were obviously playing for the other team, for they were ridden by T-men in samurai gear equipped with long bows. They streamed silently overhead, wheeled back around. Now they were ready to attack. Tim counted between twenty and thirty of them, which made them a numerically equal group. However, if you factor in the dragons, that made it a very different story. By Tim’s reckoning, each dragon was probably worth three to five humans. At least.

Kusunoki knew the drill. He said, “Take cover in the trees.” From their shelter, they shot the first volley of arrows.

“Try for the dragon’s head,” Kaneie said. “If you get it in the eye you’re good.”

“Forget the head,” Goro countered. “Go for the rider. He’ll be easier to hit.” Goro shot and his arrow connected. The Tortured One slid off his mount and spun end over end thudding onto the frozen ground. The dragon he’d been riding roared and, just as Livia gave him one of her usual rude gestures, the trees around them erupted into a swirling vortex of fire. No orders were needed from Kusunoki. They evacuated the fiery woods.

“I was wondering if any of them could do that,” Tim said.

The fire-breather was swinging back around to come at them again, flying low, mouth gaping open. Hungry and angry.

“We’re sitting ducks,” Tim shouted.

“Someone take that sucker out,” Livia said.

“Leave it to me.” Dzendle leaped into the air, disappearing from view. Nearby, a dragon deviated from its flight path—twitched as though fighting an enemy within. In a moment, Dzendle had taken control of his host, and dove at the fire-breather. Below him, a joyful crowd cheered and waved their arms.

“Way to go Dzendle!” Livia yelled.

“Atta boy, Dzendle!” Tim said.

The dragons seemed to hang for a moment in midair, entwined like the caduceus of Mercury, teeth biting into scales, claws tearing at limbs. The fire-breather wildly beat his wings, tried to gain height, but Dzendle dragged him down. Tails snapped like giant whips as they spiraled down into the blazing trees and were gone. ]]> http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?feed=rss2&p=1671 0 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1610 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1610#comments Fri, 07 Jan 2011 17:18:57 +0000 seanharrigan http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1610 After they had been dropped off in Odawara by their dragons, they were promptly greeted by Daisuke who approached them in a state of excitement. Apparently, he’d met with Asano’s men and everything had been arranged. He invited them to dine at his “humble abode,” to which he pointed with a humble bow. Even this little bow seemed disingenuous to Livia. She did not care for this man at all. Couldn’t even say why.

“What’s wrong with him?” Tim had asked earlier. “He seemed nice to me.”

“I can’t explain it,” Livia said. “I’ve met his type before in the Subura. He’s a snake with two faces.”

Livia decided she would not take her eyes off their host. Not even for a moment. Once they had all been presented with bowls of rice, Kuzunoki joined them.

“Oishi’s rescue was quite timely, it turns out,” Kuzunoki said, sitting down. “The men are prepared and only await your word, Oishi-san. Our plan was to attack in five days. Perhaps we should stick to that schedule.”

“It is excellent to see you back with us, my friend. And yes, I think we should stick to the plan.”

“Such good news calls for a round of sake,” Goro belted out. The servant left and returned with a tray of bowls as big as those they’d been eating from. Except, these brimmed with sake.

“Let us drink,” Goro said, “to Kira’s head. May we have the good fortune to shave it for him.”

They all drank and laughed. All but Daisuke who seemed strangely distracted. Not that anyone noticed but Livia. She certainly noticed when he excused himself, stating he had some personal business to which he must attend. When he’d gone, Livia excused herself as well and followed the two-faced snake into a dark garden, her invisi-shield having rendered her invisible.

In the garden, Daisuke looked around for a moment, then placed a com-u-link atop a stone lantern (Livia knew it was called an ishidoro) and flipped a switch. The image of Deng Lup and the Shogun appeared, casting shimmering light across the snow.

“What is it, Daisuke?” Deng Lup barked, cheerful as always.

“Oishi has been rescued and they are planning to attack in five days.”

“I told you,” Deng Lup said to the Shogun, “Josiah has been handing me nothing but lies. First we learn through my own spies that the King Luvah recording worked, then that the water is being kept in the castle, and now that Oishi has been freed from the Seven Islands.”

“He is a devious foe,” the Shogun said.

“The war between us is about to begin. And I will fire the first shot. So, you have agreed to the arrangement, Tsunayoshi?”

“Yes,” the shogun said. “In return for protection from any rebel daimyo I will grant your men the island of Shikoku.”

“Y…you will…do what?” Daisuke tried to choke back his shock.

“Quiet, Daisuke. You know nothing of such matters.”

“But they are barbarians.”

“The Tortured Ones I’m referring to are Japanese. Not that it’s any of your concern.”

“At any rate,” said Deng Lup, “we now know the time of the attack.”

“What about me?” Daisuke pleaded. “You promised me a daimyo.”

“I promised no such thing. You must have misheard me. Now go back to doing what you do best. Spying on your betters.”

Daisuke bowed at the image of the shogun as it flickered out, but before he could return to dinner, one of the walls of the courtyard slid open revealing all of his guests. Staring at him. Furious. Goro quick-stepped across the garden, unsheathed his sword. Daisuke fell immediately to his feet.

“Ungrateful cur,” Goro said. “This is how you thank me for sparing your life in battle. You would not accept an honorable death. I should have known then what a worm you are. And now you will meet the fate you should have before. But without the honor of battle.”

“Hold on,” Kusunoki said, stepping forward. “He’s not worth it, Goro. Please. For me. Spare him.”

Goro appeared to have difficulty staying his sword. He twitched down at Daisuke, his katana trembling as though being held by a small child. Perhaps out of mercy, perhaps respect for Kusunoki, Goro simply gave Daisuke a sharp kick. “Once again I spare your worthless life. You have Kusunoki to thank for that. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

Without a word, Daisuke fled from his guests. Kusunoki put his hand on Goro’s shoulder and said, “Actually, this is quite fortunate, Goro-san. Thanks to Daisuke’s betrayal, for the next five days Kira will feel more secure than ever and we can surprise him all the better.”

“You mean to imply we may assemble and strike in a day or two? That would be perfect,” Oishi said.

“As I said, they await your word,” Kusunoki said, bowing.

“Then it is indeed fortunate. And lucky too that we listened to this young lady.”

Livia blushed. Tim couldn’t believe that. Livia blushed?

“Not a moment is to be wasted. I go to prepare the men for our assault.”

Kaneie said to Kusunoki, “Dad, I assumed you would go home once Oishi took charge.”

“I’m too far into this, son. There is no turning back now. In any case, it is your quest I am now more concerned with. So I shall help you and leave Kira to Oishi.”

“Kusunoki,” Marcus interrupted, “if I may, I just wanted you to know that Kaneie saved my life back in Edo. He hit a dragon in the eye with an arrow. It was an incredible shot. Masterful, I would say.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kusunoki said, smiling at Kaneie. “Excellent work, son.” He ruffled Kaneie’s hair and spun around to enter the house. “But don’t forget to keep working in your swordsmanship. No doubt that continues to need improvement.”

Marcus winced at this last remark of Kusunoki’s. Did he have to ruin a good compliment by harping on Kaneie’s weakness? But Kaneie didn’t seem to mind. He was grinning from ear to ear.]]> http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?feed=rss2&p=1610 0 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1521 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1521#comments Fri, 24 Dec 2010 20:14:16 +0000 seanharrigan http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1521 M60s, loaded with tracers, pounded steadily, casting threads of light at shifting angles. The dragon’s dodged, looping and rolling. Skimming the water, wings beating tattoos against the waves, a few attacked the jet ski men, knocking them into the water with a series of splashes.

The gunners quickly adapted to the dragons’ maneuvers, tightening their fire, bringing a few down. It was a terrible sight—the noble beasts sailing gracefully through the sky one second, the next convulsed by gunfire, spiraling down to the ocean where they were lost to the depths.

After their initial assault on the jet ski men, the dragons went after the gunboats, swooping down and ripping the machineguns off their mounts. And then, just when the battle appeared to be turning in their favor, a SM-2 block IV-a missile launched amidst a rising plume of smoke from the cruiser, halos of sunlight flashing against its side as it bent its smoky trail.

The missile locked onto a dragon, who shot straight up, wings flapping fiercely. After piercing through layers of cloud, the missile and its target disappeared. For a second there was no movement. Everyone watched in silence, waiting. Then the battling foes came plummeting back to earth, plunging one after the other into the ocean. Again, a few silent seconds passed. Then, in a mountain of spray, the dragon emerged. No missile followed him. His strategy had worked.

Before the cruiser could cause any more trouble, three of the dragons went after it; two approaching from starboard, one from port. With the howl of metal being wrenched apart, they tore the ship into three pieces, dropping them like bread ripped from a loaf. Men fell screaming into the roiling blue, arms and legs frozen in fear. In a final mopping up maneuver, the men on jet-skies were one by one lifted off their watercraft and tossed into the air, sometimes hundreds of feet. One fellow slapped against the water’s surface like a skipping stone. In less than a minute it was over.

While the crew on Goro’s ship congratulated themselves on their good fortune, one of the larger dragons landed on deck, shrinking to about David’s size. At first everyone was speechless. After several moments, Tim found his voice and said, “Thank you. You’re much nicer than the last bunch of dragons.”

“Glad to help. Your father requested we aid you in your quest. My name is Fuzon and we are at your service.”

For a moment Tim thought of Jimmy. Where was he? If they only had time, could the dragons help find him? Livia was right, they didn’t have time. At least he knew his brother would survive until he returned to the islands. But he did face a bizarre paradox. By trying to save his brother, would he indirectly cause his death? Or could he change that future somehow?

“I don’t suppose,” Tim said, “we could ask a favor of you.”

“Go ahead, Tim,” said the dragon.

“Could you fly us back to Japan? That would be infinitely faster.”

“Certainly,” the dragon said. Several of the dragons began circling the ship, ready to pick up their passengers.

“Listen,” Goro said to his men, “take the galley home. I will take one of these dragons.”

“With all do respect to our saviors,” David said, “I’m staying on this ship. I don’t trust dragons. They have been known to eat Tortured Ones. They may even dunk me in the ocean to add a bit of saltiness to their snack.”

“There’s gratitude for you,” Fuzon said.

When Tim climbed onto Fuzon’s back and they lifted off the deck, he thought he caught sight of the castle from his dream on a distant island. As they passed overhead he looked for Jimmy. This, of course, assumed either a malfunctioning or a disabled invisi-shield. Or perhaps he had been captured and had been on the prison island with Oishi all along. That hadn’t even occurred to him. Great. Now he had something new to feel guilty and stupid about. He had half a mind to ask Fuzon if he could fly him to the moon. After all, dragons were magical creatures and Tim was getting pretty tired of the whole living on Earth thing anyway. ]]> http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?feed=rss2&p=1521 0 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1445 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1445#comments Fri, 17 Dec 2010 17:54:08 +0000 seanharrigan http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1445 At that moment, on Island Three, Zopyros and Josiah were having words, blazing away at each other from opposite ends of the control room platform. Josiah’s face shone red, his eyelids wide enough that Zopyros imagined a pair of eyeballs popping out and clunking down the platform steps like ball-bearings. He’d always suspected his brother was secretly an android.

“William is right,” Zopyros said, “you can’t be trusted to do anything, let alone save humanity. It would just be a vanity project for you, or worse. Oh, and by the way, you must use a lot of electricity on these islands of yours. What do you have, a hundred elderly gentlemen tied to a giant wheel?”

“I’ve had about enough of your witless repartee. I am making a serious proposition here. We are talking about the end of every living thing on Earth for Pete’s sake. Despite your idiotic stubbornness,” Josiah ran a quivering hand through his heavily gelled hair, “I shall extend you this opportunity. I am giving you the chance, Zopyros, to work with me. My plan is to–”

Once again the soldier rushed into the control room, this time stopping just inside the doorway.

“Sir, I must speak with you. It is urgent. There is a–”

Josiah bent forward, removed a sandal and threw it at the soldier who ducked to avoid being struck in the head. “Get out of here!” Josiah yelled. “If you set foot in this room again before I am finished with my brother, I shall provide you with another navel.”

Josiah turned to Zopyros and said, “As I was saying, I have selected you to head my courts of law on Island Four.” Josiah smiled, although only someone familiar with him would recognize his attempt at this expression.

“Okay,” said Zopyros, “But if I take the job the first thing I’m gonna do is throw you in jail and go home.”

Josiah raised his arms into the air in a gesture of defeat. “I give up. I still think Father is right about one thing. Only family can be trusted in the most important matters. And then grudgingly. You can’t blame me for trying. Perhaps I will have better luck with the others.”

“Sorry Charlie, we’re all loyal to Dad. None of us will turn against him.”

“Perhaps. I shall test that theory soon enough.”

* * *

Back on Island Five, Livia and Kaneie came running out of the prison with Oishi close behind. It did not surprise Tim to find a bewildered look on Oishi’s face, but he didn’t exactly look displeased with his situation. Another alarm began to blare. That made two. Or was that three?

“Any problems? Everyone appears in one piece,” Marcus said, his hand resting on his sword’s handle.

“It’s all good,” Livia said, leaning forward and catching her breath. “Place was empty. We only saw one guard and he took us right to Oishi. He was a lamb. We tied him up and put him in a nice cozy cell.”

Goro bowed deeply before Oishi. “My leader. Shibaraku, Oishi-sama.”

“Shibaraku,” Oishi said. “I am told there are forty-six of us now and that the assault on Kira is imminent.”

“I shall join in as well,” Kaneie said.

“That’s forty-seven. I was saddened by the news about your son. He was a fine boy and would have made a splendid samurai.”

“I have thought of nothing in that prison but Kira’s insolence and my son’s death. I am sure he had something to do with this. If only Kira could die twice.”

“I doubt Kira had anything to do with this,” Tim said. “These islands are courtesy of my uncle Josiah. He’s mucking about with history.”

“Uh, I think we’d better shove off,” said Livia, yelling over yet another alarm as it started to blare.

Oishi noticed David, took a startled step back, and said: “What is wrong with this horse? It doesn’t look well at all.”

“Screw you, pal,” said David. “You look the tab-end yourself.”

“The horse speaks!” Oishi said. “And it bears its own armor.”

“That’s right,” David said, sweeping a hoof through the sand. “And I’ll have you know that it’s thanks to me that you aren’t still rotting in that cell so how about showing me a little respect?”

“Forgive me,” Oishi said, bowing.

“Oh, and speaking of leaving,” David said, “you weren’t thinking of leaving me on this god-cursed island after I risked my curvaceous derriere to save your scrawny butts.”

“Don’t worry, David,” said Goro, “We shall not abandon you in this hell.”

“Why has there been no response to these alarms? This isn’t like uncle Josiah.”

“You’re right there,” Tim said, “He’s usually more thorough. Is it nap time or something?”

“Maybe,” Livia said. “But we’d better be gone by the time he wakes up.”

* * *

“Is that your final word?” Josiah demanded. Zopyros heard the Mickey Mouse lilt which often accompanied his brother’s temper tantrums. Josiah looked as though he’d finally managed to reach the tip of K2 only to take a tumble down the other side.

“No, actually my final words are piss and off. In that order.”

Standing on a shift-pad, about twenty paces from Josiah, Zopyros looked even more nervous than when he first arrived. He watched Josiah’s finger hovering above some sort of button and half-expected to find himself falling through a trap door into a vat of boiling lard.

“Nice. Did I ever tell you that you have Mother’s mouth?”

“And did I ever tell you that you have Father’s knack for mucking things up? Oh, and dig the pompadour. What’s in there, anyway? One part Dippy-de-doo and three parts concrete?”

“Congratulations, brother, as always you enjoy the last laugh. But I get the last word. Good-bye.” Josiah pressed the button and Zopyros disappeared in a flash of light. When Zopyros had vanished, Theron came from a side door and strode over to the shift-pad.

“That was less than successful,” he said.

“Next is Kusunoki. I want him to lead my army. Though he is not blood. He is a skilled warrior and leader. Alas, I do not hold out much hope for him either.”

Seeing Josiah’s brother gone, the soldier made his final entrance. He approached the platform, watched Josiah’s hands closely as he spoke. “May I speak now?”

“Go ahead,” said Josiah.

“What I was trying to tell you is that there was a jail-break on Island Five, being led by your nephew. They are getting away right now in a Japanese galley with Oishi.”

“They’re what? There’s a what? And you haven’t put a stop to it?”

The soldier stroked his chin and furrowed his brow in a troubled W. “But sir, you gave me explicit instructions never to take any action without your direct approval. And you would not speak to me. So how was–”

Before the soldier could finish his sentence, Josiah pulled a 9mm handgun from beneath his cloak and shot the soldier in the stomach. The wounded man made an O with his mouth, then bent forward slightly as though bowing. Josiah shot once more–this time placing the slug in his chest, causing his victim to thrash backward against a coffin-sized mainframe. Then he fell dead to the floor.

“For that,” Josiah said, “you get two navels.”

“About Kusunoki,” Theron said. “You promised I would have the honor of commanding your army. If he refuses, that is.”

“I have said so and I will keep my word, Theron. Why not prove your worthiness right now? Take charge of this operation to retrieve Oishi. Just be sure to get them alive, Theron.”

“Would it be all right if I brought Marcus to you with an extra navel?”

“No, Theron. No more extra navels today.”

“Regardless,” Theron said, turning and making for the exit, “that dog will see his day.”

* * *

Once everyone was aboard, Goro called out to raise anchor. The drummer pounded heartily on his instrument and before long the islands began to dwindle behind them. But before they vanished completely, Tim heard the faint sound of twenty or thirty motors from astern. He pulled out his tele-spy. Leaving one of the islands was a flotilla of twentieth century naval vessels accompanied by thirty jet skis. Each jet ski carried two men; one up front steering, one behind with a machine gun. Motoring alongside them were two gunboats and a cruiser (AEGIS class). The gunboats were fitted with machine guns. Tim recognized the models. M60D 7.62s–range, eleven hundred meters; muzzle velocity, eight hundred and fifty-three meters per second; rate of fire, six hundred and fifty rounds per minute. They were in serious trouble.

Livia screamed, “Can that guy beat on that drum any slower?” Then she gave a rather nasty look to the drummer.

“We don’t need a bigger boat,” Tim said. “We need a faster one.”

“Don’t suppose you could put me back on that island,” David said, snorting, rearing up, and stomping around the deck in concentrically tighter and tighter circles. The drummer was banging away at prestissimo speeds now and kept looking nervously over his shoulder.

“Oh, what happened to ‘don’t leave me on this island, please?’” Marcus countered. “You’re pretty demading for a horse.”

“I am not a horse. I am a Tortured One. Don’t make me show you the difference.”

“I for one will die as a samurai,” Goro said, taking out his bow and threading an arrow.

“We should surrender,” Livia said.

“Not on your life,” Marcus said.

“Livia is right,” Tim said. “If we surrender we will live to fight another day.”

“Surrender is out of the question,” Kaneie said. “Your father said something about your uncle brainwashing people. If he did that to us we would become his slaves. Better to die than face such a fate.”

“We can sit here all day,” Tim countered, “spinning alternate scenarios, but we stand a better chance of winning this war alive than dead. Don’t you agree?”

“Some lives are not worthy of the word. And I would trade one of those for a noble death any day.”

“Go for it. Livia and I will keep our unworthy lives. Who needs you anyway? We’ll save the world by all ourselves, won’t we Livia? Collect the sacred waters. Purify the Lake of Light. Thank you very much.”

Kaneie lowered his bow, shut his eyes, and tipped his head back for a moment. But what he saw when he opened his eyes again made him shiver with terror. Off to starboard, at least thirty dragons were heading their way. Livia began stomping around in concentric circles, flailing her arms. Henry watched her, studying her technique.

“This is not funny,” she yelled. “This is not funny! This is not funny, this is not funny!”

“I think it’s funny,” said Marcus.

“Yes, Marcus, you’re the original funny-man!”

Kaneie sighed and drew back an arrow on his bow. Could he hit another one in the eye? He certainly couldn’t hit thirty of them in the eye in the few seconds before they reached the ship. But Kaneie didn’t shoot after all. And it was fortunate he didn’t; the dragons soared harmlessly overhead.

“Look,” Marcus said. “They’re headed for the boats.”

The flying creatures gathered into a V-shaped formation and closed in on the flotilla.

“They’re friendlies,” Livia yelled, jumping up and down with happiness. “Go get ‘em, boys. And or girls.” ]]> http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?feed=rss2&p=1445 0 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1427 http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1427#comments Fri, 10 Dec 2010 19:26:46 +0000 seanharrigan http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?p=1427 “That’s checkmate, peeps,” Tim said. “Might as well turn this boat around and head home.”

Goro drew his sword. “Those bits of steel will not stand between me and my master. I shall cut them to pieces and scale those walls with my bare hands if necessary. Maybe those things can bring down an arrow, but let us see what they can do against a fully-armored samurai.”

Kaneie grabbed Goro’s sword arm and squeezed it as hard as he could. “A moment. Perhaps we can think of something.”

“Let’s try Mr. Unfunnybones,” Livia said. “You know, the jolly jester, the clown of all ages, the singer of old songs, AKA Cousin Henry.”

“Good thinking,” Tim said. “But then we’d have to hear him sing.”

“For Jove’s sake call him,” Marcus said. “Or link with him or whatever. All the gods could not get us safely across an island guarded by such power.”

Livia nodded and pulled out her com-u-link.

“Henry,” she said. “Can you hear me? We need your help. Rather desperately, I’m afraid.”

“You’re desperate, huh?” came Henry’s oddly suggestive reply.

“Uh,” Livia stammered, “we have to get past some nasty looking sentinel posts. There are hundreds of them. Any ideas?”

Henry pondered for a moment. “Here’s a pretty howdy do,” he said.

“What is this magic?” Goro said, sticking his face up to the com-u-link. “Who is this magical fellow?”

“Hello Mr. Samurai,” said Henry. “I am descended from a protoplasmal primordial atomic globule.”

Livia rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, Livia, I do have an idea. Naturally, I cannot swear to its efficacy.”

“You mean you don’t know if it will work,” Livia said, irritation rising in her voice.

“First I should tell you that I have taken up horse training.”

“Henry, does this story have anything to do with our situation, or is it going to lead to a movie you saw?”

“My goodness how impatient we are. It is quite relevant because they are T-horses. They are much less dangerous than other T1s because they lack a psychic connection to King Urizen. Anyway, if my theory is correct, I could shift one to your location and if he cooperates it should be possible for him to disable those posts for you. Theoretically.”

“What if it doesn’t cooperate?”

“I wouldn’t expect him to T-horse around. He’s no Mr. Ed. Oh, and speaking of horses in entertainment, did you ever see ‘April Love’ with Pat Boone? No?”

Henry broke into song but Livia was quick on the draw, tweaking the tuner, causing the signal to phase in and out. “We’re losing you, Henry!” Then she switched it off.

“Thank you, Livia,” Kaneie said.

“Why don’t we split up and some us can look for Jimmy,” Tim suggested.

“No can do,” said Livia. “We’ll be lucky to break Oishi out of there and make our escape. Time is of the essence. Besides, we know where Oishi is. He’s over there. Your brother could be anywhere on the other six islands. Same with the magic water. And don’t forget what Grandfather said, our priority is getting the water from that castle. We’ll take care of the other stuff later.”

“There he is,” Kaneie said. “That’s a T-horse all right.”

Henry’s T-horse came galloping around the prison and headed straight for a cluster of towers. Drawing near them, he slowed to a canter. Electrostatic bursts ran across the poles, sparks gushing in fountains upon the sand. The creature gathered speed, slaloming between posts; each one, as he passed it, exploded into a fireworks display. Frenzied energy bolts shot at him but fizzled before contact.

When all but one had been destroyed, the Tortured One approached as it shot wildly, its beams lashing out at nothing. It buzzed and clicked and whirred, clinging to life. Fed up, its enemy turned about and gave it a solid kick. It ker-plunked by the ship’s side.

“Nice,” Livia said.

Disembarking was accomplished via a ramp as the galley’s stern dropped away, thumping onto the sand creating instant access to the beach. The T-horse approached the group as Goro led them ashore.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” Livia said to the T-horse.

“I’m fine,” the T-horse said. “Better than those metal doodads. Why I agreed to help you is beyond me. Henry promised to give me a better stable. Old bug face said he’d give me a corner stall, whatever that is. This better not be one of his jokes.”

“Anyway, you saved our bacon. And we’re much obliged.”

“I’m sure you are, but it’s awfully hot out here. And this frickin’ sand keeps getting under my scales,” said the T-horse whose name turned out to be David.

“So,” said David, “You are planning to get inside that building? Damned unlikely if you ask me.”

Livia stared at David from behind and stroked her chin thoughtfully. “How much do you suppose his hindquarters weighs?” she said.

“Pardon me?” David said.

“Oh, quite a bit, I’d guess,” Tim said. “Why?”

“Perhaps we can get up there with a little help from our new friend. Everyone start looking for a large rock and a plank of wood.”

“Where are we going to find a plank of wood?”

“Um, the boat. Maybe.”

Tim found a large rock while Goro carefully retrieved a large plank from somewhere on the galley. Once in possession of the items, Livia positioned the rock, using it as a fulcrum for the board, upon which she stepped and faced the building. “Okay, David. By the way, I don’t suppose I could call you Mr. Ed, could I?”

“Sure. If you don’t mind a hoof-print in your cranium.”

“Spoilsport. Just give us a good kick, then.”

“I’ll kick anything. It gets the lead out.”

Livia braced herself, bent her legs. With a great thud, David’s hooves came down upon board, sending Livia flying up the wall. She got hold of the roof’s ledge, was up and over in a second.

Kaneie turned to David, saying, “Could you get me up there as well, David? Livia may need my help.”

“Another astronut, huh? Park yer shuttle right there and I’ll send you into freakin’ orbit.”

When they were both safely on the roof Livia yelled down, “We’ve found a way in.”

Tim cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled up to them, “Good luck.”

When their heads disappeared from view Marcus said, “I must admit, her morals are not always pure, but she is quite resourceful. And not unattractive. Not at all.” His eyes were suddenly far away.

Uh oh, thought Tim. ]]> http://dragonscachestudios.com/w_press/?feed=rss2&p=1427 0