

Dragonsapien

Jon Jacks

Other New Adult and Children's books by Jon Jacks

The Caught – The Rules – Chapter One – The Changes – Sleeping Ugly

The Barking Detective Agency – The Healing – The Lost Fairy Tale

A Horse for a Kingdom – Charity – The Most Beautiful Things – The Last Train

The Dream Swallowers – Nyx; Granddaughter of the Night – Jonah and the Alligator

Glastonbury Sirens – Dr Jekyll's Maid – The 500-Year Circus

P – The Endless Game – DoriaN A – Wyrd Girl

Heartache High (Vol I) – Heartache High: The Primer (Vol II) – Heartache High: The Wakening (Vol III)

Miss Terry Charm, Merry Kris Mouse & The Silver Egg – Seecrets – The Wicker Slippers – The Cull

Text copyright© 2013 Jon Jacks

All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author.

Thank you for your support.

# Chapter 1

Her mum and dad didn't seem to mind that Jake was human.

Obviously, it could never, ever be _serious_ – but surely a little fling wouldn't hurt?

And when he saw her wearing this little green dress (she'd seen it in the shop window – she just _had_ to try it on!), well, perhaps even Jake would realise it was time to take their friendship onto the next level.

Celeste admired herself in the changing cubicle's full length mirror.

She pouted her lips.

She tipped her head slightly, letting her bob of blonde hair seductively hang over one side of her face

She posed in different positions, appreciating her good fortune in having such long, slender legs, the green dress perhaps revealing more of them than her parents would be happy with.

(They weren't going to be happy anyway; not when they heard how she was trying on a dress in the shop. Normally, they arranged for everything to be delivered to their apartment, where it could be tried on for size in private.)

She checked herself from other angles, making sure the dress didn't pull up as she twisted around.

It was _perfect_!

Jake would _love_ it!

Would, she hoped, love _her_!

She slipped the dress over her head.

As she felt the cool air of the shop's air conditioning sweep across her back, she released her wings, letting them expand. It was such a relief after keeping them furled tight within their recesses all day.

The curtain was abruptly whipped aside. A woman intently examining the dress she'd brought with her almost stepped inside before suddenly realising the cubicle was already occupied.

'Oh sorry, I didn't–'

She froze, her eyes wide with shock, with horror, as she took in the sight of the huge, glistening wings.

'No, please–'

Celeste instinctively reached out to try and calm the panicking woman.

Just as instinctively, she released one of her long talons.

The talon effortlessly pierced the woman's throat, cutting off any scream she may have been about to make.

'Oh my God, no!' Celeste breathed, shuddering in fear as the dead woman's blood ran down the talon onto her hand.

*

Once again, Celeste's instinct took control.

She now acted virtually automatically, with very little time for thought. Her instinct was there to ensure her survival, the survival of her species; she let it dictate her every action.

Despite being so much younger and at least a head smaller than the woman, Celeste effortlessly pulled the woman inside the cubicle, using the impaled talon like a meat hook. She let the woman slump to the floor, her talon slipping free of the soft flesh with a sickening plop.

As part of the same motion, Celeste's other hand swiftly and forcibly plugged home her handkerchief in the gaping wound, stemming the blood flow.

Celeste couldn't recall when she'd reached over to her hanging jacket to quickly root around in the pocket for the handkerchief. Just as she couldn't remember when she'd retracted her wings to give herself more space to operate.

Her talon withdrew back into her finger, completely vanishing into her hollow, pneumatic bone structure.

She'd done as much as she could for now to contain the problem; now she needed Hincheley.

She pulled the cubicle's curtain back a little, peering out warily to make sure no one else was around in the changing section's corridor.

She stepped out, drawing the curtain closed behind her, then making sure the other cubicle was empty. She moved closer to the changing room's open doorway, looking out into the shop itself.

Fortunately, it was a small shop, one that sold an exclusive range of clothes. One her parents held an account at.

That's why she'd made the mistake of thinking she'd be safe using the cubicle. It was a Wednesday, and few people visited it at this time of day. That's the only reason why she'd been able to persuade Hincheley that, if she were quick, and careful, no one need see her.

She'd been neither quick nor careful.

And an innocent woman had paid the price for Celeste's stupidity.

'Hincheley,' she hissed quietly in their own language, their own range of sound.

As she spoke, she released a fragrance of distress, of fear.

Although he was sitting outside in the Rolls Royce he'd parked at the kerb, Hincheley would hear her call, sense and understand the meaning of the aromas; he would be here in a moment to help her.

'Miss Volance?'

Celeste jumped.

It was the shop assistant who'd spoken. She'd moved from behind the glass desk. She was moving towards the changing rooms, no doubt wondering why Celeste was anxiously waiting by the doorway rather than moving back into the shop.

'Do you require any assistance, Miss Volance?'

The assistant turned as the bell above the shop's main door rang out.

Hincheley strode into the shop, his immaculate, sheer-black chauffeur's uniform emphasising his straight-backed military bearing.

'Oh, Richard.' Celeste spoke as calmly, as breezily as she could. 'Could you help me a moment please?'

She'd called him Richard, not Hincheley.

Hincheley would recognise it as another sign that's there was something seriously amiss.

The assistant frowned.

'I'm sorry Miss Volance, but there are absolutely _no_ men allowed in the changing rooms!'

'Oh, but it _is_ important, Sarah; and there's no one else around.'

Once again, Celeste had deliberately used a first name, in this case to remind the young assistant that the Volances were regular and prized customers.

The young woman frowned in puzzlement.

'But didn't I just see–'

'I just _love_ this design, Sarah!' Celeste interrupted excitedly, holding up the green dress. 'I'll take it! And the rest of the collection by the same designer; could you have them _all_ delivered to our apartment for a private viewing? You know; the usual arrangements?'

'Oh yes, yes, of course Miss Volance!'

The assistant's bewilderment had been instantly transformed into an exhilarated imagining of the high commission to be made from simply organising the Volances' 'usual arrangements'. They paid generously, tipped liberally.

'Would that be for tonight?' the assistant asked. 'Around seven, as usual?'

She had already produced her pen and notebook. She either hadn't noticed or could no longer care that Hincheley had disappeared into the changing rooms.

He reappeared, his hard face typically stern, unreadable.

The assistant wasn't to know it, of course, but Hincheley had already hardened his fingers in preparation for what he had to do next. His super efficient lungs had separated the components of the air, pumped oxygen under immense pressure into the hollow, perforated bones and skin of his hand.

In a swift, unexpected motion, he sharply jabbed his forefinger against the assistant's temple. At one and the same time, two fingers of his other hand stabbed into the soft flesh of the side of her neck.

She collapsed, unconscious.

Celeste didn't need to be told what to do next.

Once again, it was that instinct for survival that had taken control.

She was acting almost automatically as she ran to the shop's door. She closed it, flipped the dangling sign so that 'Closed' faced out towards the street.

Equally silently, equally hurriedly and expertly, Hincheley effortlessly dragged the assistant's body across the floor until it lay behind her desk, where it was out of sight of any passer-by.

'Mop, bucket, large plastic bags,' Hincheley said coldly to Celeste.

Celeste nodded. She dashed off towards the auxiliary room lying towards the rear of the shop.

As she was about to enter, she glanced back towards Hincheley.

He'd already taken off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves.

He stepped towards the changing rooms.

He flexed his hands.

And a long, razor-sharp talon extended from every finger.

*

# Chapter 2

'That poor woman! And her family too! God only knows how much they'll all suffer when they find out, Celly!'

Celeste's mum was understandably furious when she heard what had happened.

'And all because you wanted to try on a dress, Celly! How many times have I told you we can't risk being discovered?'

Celeste hung her head ashamedly.

What could she say?

Not only had she disobeyed her mother's express orders – rules that she herself had accepted as being essential – but it had also resulted in the death of an innocent human.

And where was that poor woman's body now? Burning away to nothing in the apartment block's basement incinerator, where Hincheley had immediately taken it as soon as they had arrived home.

Even Celly's hardened instincts hadn't prevented her from recoiling at the sight of the large carrier bags Hincheley had carried from the shop, quickly and efficiently piling them in the back of the Rolls Royce. She had felt nauseous, even close to fainting, as she had helped him clean up the bloody mess left in the changing rooms.

As soon as the cleaning was finished, and the mops and buckets were back where they should be in the back rooms, Celly had filliped the door's sign back to 'Open'. Hincheley had tenderly revived the still unconscious Sarah.

'Are you okay Sarah?' Celly had enquired innocently as Sarah had come around. She had gently caressed the bruise on the young woman's temple, pursed her lips as if empathising with Sarah's pain. 'You banged your head as you fell. You must have fainted – I hope it wasn't because I'd ordered too many things!' she'd added with a girlish titter.

'We'll have to hope you're right, Celly,' Celly's mum sighed resignedly, 'that Sarah seemed confused enough to believe your story! It may be an awful thing to wish, I know, but we'll just have to hope that that poor woman is filed away as a missing person rather tha–'

The bell to the apartment door rang.

Celly and her mum swapped anxious glances.

'The police?' Celly said worriedly.

Her mum shook her head but frowned uncertainly.

'I wouldn't think they'd had time...'

They both cringed as they heard their housekeeper Mary answer the door.

'Hello Jake!' they heard Mary trill happily. 'Celly's in the main room; go right through, she's expecting you.'

Celly and her mother smiled at each other.

Perhaps everything would turn out all right for the Volances after all.

'It's Jake,' Celly repeated excitedly, unnecessarily

She turned.

She ran to meet Jake.

Her instinct, she realised, allowed her to once again place the horror of the last few hours to the back of her mind.

Then again, it had been her instinct for survival that had caused her to kill the poor woman in the first place.

*

After all that had happened, Celly didn't feel like showing Jake the green dress, let alone wearing it to see if he thought it suited her.

Jake was just a few years older than her, the son of neighbours living in the apartment just below the Volances.

Celly felt _almost_ sure that Jake was attracted to her. But was she just confusing the fact that _she_ was attracted to _him_ , and was hoping that he felt the same way about her?

It was all so bewildering, the way that humans could hide whether they were attracted to you or not!

'How's it all going, Celly?' he asked with his familiar, welcoming grin.

'Fine, fine; and you?' Fine apart from the fact that I've just mistakenly killed a woman, she thought. 'How'd it go with the tests?'

Jake had been running a few tests on his computer to check if the adaptions he'd made to a computer game would allow him to alter the way it worked, in particular allowing him to play from the vantage point of at least one of the villains rather than the heroes.

He shook his head sadly.

'Uh uh; more locks on the game than I'd anticipated. More limitations, too, so it doesn't really make it worth playing that role. I'd hoped I'd be able to combine some of the attributes of the good guys; you know, use their abilities, their capabilities.'

Celly wasn't really interested in computer games. But as Jake couldn't seem to get enough of them, she pretended to enjoy them too.

'Did you want to finish playing that game we were playing yesterday?' she asked, secretly hoping he'd say, No, let's go out somewhere.

'Sure,' he said.

*

Just as Jake was good at manipulating and even building basic versions of the technology underlying computer games, he was also good at playing them.

There was no point in Celly taking on an opposing role; she would only last a few seconds before Jake obliterated either her or her virtual team. So she always took on a supporting role, backing Jake's swift advance through the landscapes as best as she could.

'It's a joke, of course,' Jake said distractedly as, with a rapid tweak of his handheld control, he narrowly avoided being sent to oblivion by a group of oncoming androids, 'this idea that computers and robots could take over the world.'

'Really? I'd thought you'd be the one most likely to believe in it, the way you're always tinkering with all that software you're constantly loading up.'

'Yeah, including tinkering for hours with my laptop after an automatic update has just about destroyed its registry. So with these robots, right, I reckon they'd all come to a grinding halt after a clash of updates from Microsoft and Epsom.'

Jake was surprisingly callous when it came to wiping out the enemies they faced. Efficient. Brutal. Even faintly sadistic, the way he laughed as yet another opponent plummeted off a cliff, was consumed by fire, or exploded in a shower of blood and shrapnel.

'We're saving ourselves/ the Kingdom/ the Earth/ the Gurdian Race,' Jake would always nonchalantly reply whenever Celly pointed this out.

There was a knock on the room's door.

It opened, Celly's mum entering with Dr Frobisher.

'Sorry to interrupt Celly,' her mum said, 'But Dr Frobisher came straight round when I called, asking him to, er, you know; for your regular check-up?'

'Regular check-up?' Jake whispered curiously, turning to face Celly. 'Since when do you call a doctor to come out for a regular check-up? You okay, Celly?'

Celly sighed inwardly.

Trust Jake to notice mum's poor choice of words!

Obviously, she didn't want Jake to know the real reason for Dr Frobisher's visit; he'd want to run a few checks to ensure the recent traumatic events hadn't caused her any unseen damage.

An uncontrolled, sudden increase in her blood pressure could have caused an unwanted tautening, a permanent tensioning, in certain areas of her skin's innumerable capillaries. Even a brief yet now forgotten spell of hyperventilation could have resulted in any number of complications in her complex system of lungs that – due to the way they were effectively linked to just about every part of her sophisticated structure – might in turn lead to problems with the rigidity of her wings, the lightening of her body as she prepared to fly.

'Yes, Celly's fine thank you, Jake,' Dr Frobisher said, having heard the boy's concern. 'Perisa – Celly's mother – simply meant she called asking me to make a house visit for the check-up.'

'Yes, yes,' Celly's mum agreed, now realising the mistake she'd made, 'Celly's just being feeling a little off lately.'

Celly sighed inwardly again.

Mum! Couldn't you have just left it with Dr Frobisher's explanation?

'Off?' Jake said, his curiosity piqued again. 'Really? Celly, you didn't say you weren't feeling too good?'

'Oh, it's nothing,' Celly replied nonchalantly. 'Just, you know, a headache.'

'A headache?'

Now Celly's father Erdwin had appeared at the doorway. Placing an arm around Celly's mother, he gave her a kiss in greeting.

'Well,' he continued, 'we'll have to get that looked at immediately, won't we, eh?'

If Jake thought it odd that Celly's dad had come home early from work, this time he was polite enough to hang back from saying anything.

'Hi Jake,' Erdwin said brightly. 'How's things?'

'Fine thanks, Mr Volance.'

'Now, if we might just leave you on your own for a moment, please Jake?' Celly's mum held out a hand for Celly to take. 'While we quickly see what's troubling Celly?'

'Sure Mrs Volance; I'm almost finished here anyway.'

Jake nodded back towards the immense TV screen and it's scenes of a devastated, empty city.

The apartment's doorbell rang once more.

Celly's mum visibly tensed.

'Who can that be?'

She swapped anxious glances with Erdwin and Dr Frobisher.

Celly saw that Jake was too sharp not to notice this strange anxiety.

'Come on Celly!' Perisa held out her hand once more, this time shaking it as a sign of her urgency.

Oh mum! Celly thought. Can't you see that Jake already realises something's not quite right? Without you making things worse by treating me like a five-year-old?

But before they left the room, Mary appeared at the door.

'I'm sorry ma'am,' she said uneasily, 'but they insisted on coming in; it's the police!'

*

# Chapter 3

Celly's parents and Dr Frobisher left the room, leaving her with Jake to finish playing the game.

Jake wasn't playing so well anymore. His mind was obviously on other things.

He frequently frowned, and not just because his score was falling.

He kept glancing Celly's way, like he was waiting for her to say something. Like he was upset because she was holding something back from him.

This was just a part of Jake's character: the way that he could latch on to the fact you were hiding something, realise you weren't being quite open with him; the way that he wouldn't express his irritation but, just like he felt you were holding in your secrets, hold in his frustration, his growing anger.

Letting it build and build inside him.

Simmering. Silent. Sullen.

Yet, after all that, he rarely let it all explode as uncontrollable anger.

Rather, somehow, Jake managed to contain it, let it all ease off inside him.

Then, suddenly, he would turn to you and breezily chat away as if the original slight he'd sensed had never happened. As if, too, the last few minutes (or hours) of silence had all been imagined by you.

Today, Jake and Celly never reached that point.

Perisa appeared at the door.

'Celly; the detective would like a quick word with you, please.'

'Detective?' Jake was more concerned and curious than ever.

'It's nothing; don't worry.' Celly gave Jake the best smile she could manage under the circumstances.

'Nothing? Like the headaches are nothing, you mean?'

'Jake, please,' Perisa insisted. The urgently waving hand was once again urging Celly to hurry.

'How'd you know it's nothing?' Jake persisted, leaping out of his chair, obviously intending to accompany Celly. 'You haven't spoken with him yet. What's going on here Celly?'

'No, Jake; you have to stay here.'

Perisa now swiftly held up her hand, indicating that Jake wasn't to follow them.

'Please; finish your game,' she added firmly as she and Celly left the room.

*

'It's about a missing woman, Celly.'

Celly's mum said it to her as innocently as she could as they entered the main room and approached the waiting detective.

The detective frowned disapprovingly, but Perisa continued, giving Celly as much information as she could without appearing overly suspicious.

'The detective wants to know if you saw something when you visited L'Orange, as that's where he believes the poor woman was last seen before she disappeared.'

L'Orange was the shop. The police had obviously worked quickly in tracking the woman's whereabouts.

Celly struggled to stay calm. Only the kicking-in of her protective instinct prevented her from completely breaking down into a quivering, apologetic shambles.

'Missing woman?' Celly said. 'At the shop?'

She glanced quickly about the room, taking in the situation.

There was another policeman, this time a uniformed officer, standing closer to the door. Like he'd been placed there to guard the only exit out of the apartment.

The detective was smartly if not elegantly dressed in a suit. He smiled, but it was a forced smile, no doubt contrived to put everyone at their ease and reveal more than they should.

He was tall, yet was still naturally shorter than her gracefully slim parents. He might have been a hand's width taller than Dr Frobisher, but it was hard to be sure as the latter was the only one in the room seated.

'If you don't mind, Mrs Volance?' the detective said. 'I really need to ask your daughter these questions without any prompting from yourself.'

'Oh, I'm ever so sorry officer; I was only trying to help.'

Perisa smiled. _Her_ smile was charming, warming. Disarming.

It didn't seem to work on the detective. He returned the smile, but the rest of his face was more scowl than enchantment.

He turned to Celly, holding up a photograph of the 'missing' woman.

'The assistant at L'Orange says she's sure she saw this woman going into a changing cubicle, Celly – it's okay to call you Celly, isn't it? – the changing cubicles where _you_ were Celly.'

'I'm not sure that it's right to ask Miss Volance such upsetting questions at present, inspector.' Dr Frobisher quickly came to Celly's defence. 'As I've already explained, the reason for my own presence here is that she hasn't been feeling well recently. She really can't be questioned over such matters just yet; maybe later, yes?'

'And as _I_ said, doctor, my questions won't be difficult or upsetting; I'm simply trying to ascertain the whereabouts of a poor woman who has unaccountably gone missing.' Having turned to talk the doctor, he looked back to Celly once more. 'Surely you'd like to help us find her, Celly?'

'Of course we'd like to do everything we can to help you find this unfortunate woman, officer,' Celly's father said. 'But as Dr Frobisher has already patiently explained, we would hope that your questioning of Celly is kept as brief as possible.'

'My questioning, Mr Volance, will be _incredibly_ brief. We already know that Mrs Crendal's mysterious disappearance took place within L'Orange. Her husband had only just left her outside the shop as she prepared to go in. He left to visit another shop nearby. When he returned to find her, she was not only not there, but the shop was strangely closed.'

'How odd.'

'Odd, yes, Mrs Volance. Very odd. So if I may continue to ask your daughter just a few, _simple_ questions?'

If the detective had noticed the wary glances between Perisa and Erdwin, he didn't show it.

'Now Celly, the assistant remembers that, after you _and_ Mrs Crendal both went into the changing rooms, your chauffeur Hincheley followed her in there–'

'Surely you're not suspecting Hincheley of–'

Erdwin was interrupted as the door guarded by the police officer opened. Two more police officers entered, holding the taller Hincheley between them.

Despite being handcuffed, Hincheley remained proud, calmly defiant, as if the police officers weren't his imprisoners but royal guards. Of the three of them, he appeared the superior in dress, demeanour and elegance.

'We have forensics there now, Mr Volance,' the detective sternly asserted. 'There are definite signs of blood, a splatter pattern associated wi–'

Perisa slashed his throat with a swiftly extended talon.

Erdwin similarly dispatched one of the officers standing alongside Hincheley. Even though still handcuffed, Hincheley swung his arms up and around, the extended talons effortlessly penetrating the chest of the other officer standing alongside him.

Dr Frobisher lithely yet unhurriedly moved across the floor towards the policeman guarding the door. Wide-eyed with terror, the officer turned to flee through the door.

But Mary was there, blocking his way.

The talons of her abruptly outthrust hands sunk deeply into his upper body, the bloodied tips coming out through his back.

He gurgled, blood bubbling at his mouth as he died.

'Oh my God!'

Hearing the frantic cry behind her, Celly whirled around.

It was Jake.

Jake had entered the room.

*

# Chapter 4

'The boy.'

Dr Frobisher said it in such a calm, noncommittal way that it could have been taken to mean anything.

'The boy's there.'

'What should we do with the boy?'

'The boy's seen everything; we have to kill him.'

'No, no! You can't kill him!' Celly cried out anxiously.

She ran towards Jake, intending to throw her arms around him protectively.

Jake backed away from her, horrified, disgusted.

'What...what _are_ you?' he hissed.

Despite backing away from Celly, Jake stood his ground. He didn't run.

If he had run, Celly realised, he might well be dead by now.

In the frenzy of the sudden killing spree, his panicked actions might well have been instinctively interpreted as endangering their safety. He would have been dead before that instinct had been brought under control.

Perhaps Jake had himself innately realised that fleeing would have been useless. Perhaps he'd been simply frozen to the spot with fear.

A heavy rain was now battering on the windows, emphasising the silence filling the apartment.

'We're not much that much different from you, Jake,' Erdwin said, answering Jake's question. 'As you've seen over the months you've been visiting us.'

'Where we _are_ different,' Perisa added, looking about the room at everyone, speaking firmly as if reminding everyone of this, 'is that we don't harm children.'

'But he's seen too much.'

Lowering his arms, giving them a shake, Hincheley let the officer's bloodied body slide off his talons and crumple to the floor. Behind him, Mary casually did the same.

Jake winced.

Celly worriedly moved towards him once more, only to be disgustedly rebuffed yet again.

With a flexing of his wrists, a pneumatic pumping of gasses into his flesh so that it became as hard as steel, Hincheley shattered the chain running between the handcuff's bracelets.

'You'll have to take him with you.' Dr Frobisher stated flatly. He was moving from body to body, checking that each of the officers was dead.

What would he do, Celly wondered, if he found that one of them was still alive?

'You'll be staying I take it, Harry?

The doctor nodded in reply to Erdwin's question.

'Staying?' Jake's head whirled. 'You're all leaving? Not me; I'm not going anywhere!'

'You have to Jake; sorry.' Perisa spoke kindly, sadly.

'If we stay, we'll be discovered,' Erdwin said. 'And we _cannot_ be discovered. For the good of us all.'

'All? There are _more_ of you?' Jake gulped nervously.

'All living peacefully amongst you.'

Jake smirked sickly, looking across at the bodies strewn around the apartment.

'You call _this_ peacefully?'

'We were endangered; not just us, but our entire species. Wouldn't you protect your people?'

Jake seemed as if he were about to answer but, catching Celly's disapproving glare, said nothing.

How many times had he said he would do anything to protect his own kind while playing the games?

Sure, that _was_ just a game – but wasn't there some truth behind his statement?

'If I stay, I can try and explain what happened here,' Dr Frobisher said. 'Something along the lines of you panicking, striking out at them with a murder weapon you took with you.'

'What murder weapon would that be, Harry?' Perisa asked, drawing his attention to the unusual puncture marks in the officers' bodies.

'An ornamental trident, perhaps?'

The doctor smiled, as if aware of and amused by the inadequacy of his explanation.

*

Stepping out into the apartment block's hallway, they bypassed the lift.

They took the stairs. And they headed upwards, towards the roof.

Hincheley had informed them that, as he had been led upstairs from the basement where the police had found and arrested him, they had passed other officers in the foyer. On hearing this, everyone had agreed that more officers were probably guarding the block's other exits; the police had obviously come here with the intention of making an arrest.

It was the powerful Hincheley who had taken charge of Jake.

No matter how much Jake squirmed in an attempt to break free of Hincheley's firm grip on his arm, it was useless. Even if he tried to drag his feet as they ascended the stairs, Hincheley lifted and pulled him along effortlessly. After a few painful experiences of the inevitable tightening and twisting of Hincheley's hand on his arm, Jake eventually stopped trying to hang back.

When they opened the door leading out onto the rain swept roof, however, he hesitated.

'Where...where are we going?' he asked fearfully. 'You're not going to...to...?'

'To throw you off the roof?' Hincheley grinned sourly. 'No; though if you keep on struggling to break free of my grip, you might find you end up falling anyway.'

'What's that supposed to mean? That you're going to make out it's an accident?'

Hincheley didn't bother replying. They were now out on the roof, where the heavy rain was drowning out any normal level of conversation.

No one was talking anyway. They were all stripping off their jackets, shirts and blouses.

Hincheley swiftly changed the hand gripping Jake's hand as he shrugged off his own jacket. He simply ripped off his shirt.

Neither Perisa nor Mary seemed perturbed or embarrassed about revealing their breasts. But Celly hung her head, hiding her blushes, her shame.

Jake, despite the horror and disgust he had felt earlier, thought she looked beautiful. He tried not to stare, yet couldn't avert his eyes.

Celly's skin was changing, glistening. It sparkled, as if made of finely spun gold and silver threads, graced with whirling patterns. A ruby glow spread throughout it, a sign, though Jake didn't know it, of Celly's embarrassment.

Even through the heavy rain, Jake could see that everyone around him was going through a similar transformation. Their skins shone like expertly burnished metal, like jewels that had been crushed and turned into elaborate mosaics, like the aurora borealis, captured and only slightly tamed.

The light reflected from them created a multitude of rainbows in the falling droplets of rain.

With a sound like the abrupt snap of a flag in the wind, wings appeared from each of their backs. The nearest equivalent, Jake supposed, would be like colossal bat wings, but here the membrane stretched between the thicker framework was of the same gloriously sparkling skin.

He looked back towards Celly.

With her outstretched wings of patterned gold and silver, she was terrible, frightening – and the most entrancingly gorgeous thing he had ever seen.

With the merest flap of her powerful wings, she began to effortlessly rise into the air.

He suddenly felt strong arms wrap around his waist from behind; then he was rising up alongside her.

They were flying through the pounding rain.

Glancing down at the city streets passing far below, Jake immediately realised the meaning behind Hincheley's warning not to struggle.

If he broke free now, he would plummet to his death.

*

1 week later

# Chapter 5

Both Celly and Jake had rapidly learned how to move through the jungle swiftly and silently.

They didn't want to warn off any animals that, even now, might be about to innocently wander into their carefully set traps.

One of the prime spots for their traps was the large pool lying beneath a small waterfall, which itself stemmed from an offshoot of one of the many streams flowing down from the surrounding hills.

That's where they were heading for now, hoping that they'd trapped one of the animals that used the pool for drinking.

As they approached through the thick undergrowth, Celly and Jake could hear angry shuffling, frustrated grunting.

'We've caught something,' Jake exclaimed excitedly. 'Sounds quite large too.'

'Sounds like it's still alive too,' Celly added more doubtfully. 'Perhaps we'd better leave it for Hincheley or Mary to take care of.'

Celly was aware that, no matter the size of the trapped animal, she'd be more than capable of 'taking care of' it. But even now, even though Jake knew she wasn't human, she'd didn't like undergoing even the smallest transformation in front of him.

She preferred to try and maintain the fallacy that she was still the Celly he had always known.

Even when the trapped animal was small enough for either of them to quickly dispatch with the twist of a neck, or the swift slicing of a blade across the throat, they both originally insisted on leaving it for Hincheley to 'take care of'. It was only when they realised this was prolonging the animal's suffering that they decided they would take turns in dispatching the poor creature.

Celly would always use a knife, never a talon. Even the neck wringing seemed to her to be too much of a sign of her being 'monstrous'.

They broke through the thick curtain of large, rubbery leaves surrounding the clearing containing the watering hole.

Jake halted, Celly almost colliding into his back.

'Hah, that's _much_ bigger than I expected.'

It was a gigantic wild boar, trapped by a hind hoof in the twine noose.

As Celly and Jake appeared from out of the enveloping jungle, the boar halted its frantic efforts to pull itself free. It eyed them both suspiciously, curiously, like it was trying to figure out if they had anything to do with its entrapment.

It surely, Celly thought, didn't see them as a threat. They were far too small to give it any cause for concern.

Whatever it had decided, it suddenly propelled itself forwards towards them.

Unable to withstand the abrupt jerk of the powerful charge, the twine noose snapped.

And suddenly, Jake found himself standing directly in the path of a furious, rampaging boar.

*

'Run!' Celly cried.

Jake didn't move.

He was petrified, frozen to the spot with fear and a sense of hopelessness.

The boar had lowered its head, tusks menacingly jutting forward, each one of which would penetrate deeply, shattering bones, ripping apart flesh, muscle, organs. With a fierce jerk of its massive head, he'd be tossed up in the air, badly gored, either dying or at least invalided for life.

He could see its eyes, red with fury and blood lust.

Behind him, there was an abrupt, violent gust of wind, a wind that soared over his head.

Suddenly, the boar ahead of him seemed to be struck by a blinding burst of the sun itself, an orb of glittering gold and silver falling upon it and bringing its charge to an immediate halt.

Celly's immense wings, curling around the action, glowed vibrantly, almost painfully. Jake saw the furiously rising and falling talons only as further sharp glints of light.

But he could see the effect that Celly's attack was having on the boar.

It was thrashing, snorting, growling.

Fighting back.

Tossing its head, probing for weaknesses that its fearsome tusks could make the most of.

Lifting itself up on its powerful hind legs, lashing out with its equally powerful forelegs.

But Celly wasn't retreating.

The talons rose and fell time and time again, each time duller, more bloodied than before. She was even using her wings not only to give her the lift she needed but also to brutally batter the now writhing, squealing animal.

The boar knew it was losing.

It was terrified.

It was trying to get away.

Strangely, Jake felt sorry for it.

'Celly! Celly!' he yelled. 'Let it go! You've won! Let it go!'

The pummelling, shredding talons continued to rain down.

Threaded flesh and bloody muscle was scattered around the combatants.

At last, with an effortless flap of her sparkling wings, Celly rose away from the fight.

Jake gasped at her incredible beauty.

She could have been a warring angel, St Michael himself, hovering over the defeated Beast.

The boar, exhausted and with tattered curtains of flesh hanging down its sides, briefly appeared relieved.

It stumbled. Snorted in agony. Fell.

Its eyes were now sad, pained. Oddly pleading.

Instantly forgetting the danger he had been in, Jake whirled on Celly.

'Why'd you kill it?'

Still hovering in the air, Celly glared back at him.

'Because it was going to kill _you_ , remember?'

'But...but you didn't have to do it so _horribly_!'

As Celly gracefully dropped back to the ground, her wings rapidly retracted, her bloodied talons slid back into her hands, the metallic glow of her skin faded. She would have looked innocently human again if it hadn't been for the blood covering her hands, her badly torn shorts, and now almost non-existent t-shirt.

_'Horribly_? It put up a bit of a fight, Jake! Or hadn't you noticed?'

'But you'd beaten it! You didn't need to finish it off so...so...'

'Go on! Say it Jake! Brutally, right? Like I'm an animal, you mean?'

'No, no...I didn't...'

'Yes you did! I've watched you all week, Jake! Your face creased in disgust every time you saw Hincheley or Mary killing and skinning an animal! Like we're animals and you're some superior being!'

She strode past him, storming off back into the undergrowth.

'Wait! What about the boar?'

Jake pointed back towards the now lifeless boar.

'What about it?' she cried back over her shoulder.

'Well, we can't just leave it here, can we? The other animals, they'll–'

Celly spun around.

'They'll _eat_ it, you mean?'

Jake shrugged, embarrassed.

'Now it's dead, it seems such a waste–'

'A waste of food you mean? That's a bit _brutal_ , isn't it? _Eating_ the poor thing?'

'It's dead anyway–'

Celly furiously strode back towards him.

'Yes, it's _dead_ Jake! And do you know what would have happened if it _wasn't_ dead, Jake? We'd have a wounded boar running about the island, dangerous and looking for trouble. _That's_ why I killed it!'

Still...' Jake said weakly.

'Still what, Jake? We'd have killed it anyway, wouldn't we? For the meat we need, right?'

He nodded.

'So...what should we do?' he asked. 'It's too big for us to cut up or drag back, unless you...'

'Unless I cut it up? You'd like that would you? To see _me_ butchering it? While you can go on pretending you're back at home, getting all your meat from the supermarket, kidding yourself you're not really an animal too?'

'I'm not supposed to be _here_ , remember?' Jake spat back. 'I'm supposed to _be_ at home! But you and your family kidnapped me after killing a whole bloody station of coppers!'

'Because we were about to be discovered! What choice did mum and dad have? Everyone would just think we were monsters, like _you_ do!'

'Oh, whereas killing a few coppers shows you're all perfectly human, right?'

'So _humans_ don't kill policemen; that's what you're saying?'

'They don't _slaughter_ them!'

Celly spun around and started heading off through the jungle once more.

'Where're you going?' Jake cried out after her.

'To the beach, to wash this blood off – or did you think I enjoyed being covered like this?

*

'The boar! What about the boar?'

Jake yelled out urgently to Celly as he ran after her, following the path she'd angrily and carelessly carved out of the undergrowth.

He didn't want to see the dead boar going to waste. There was enough meat there to keep them all going for at least a week, he reckoned.

He already regretted being disgusted by Celly's actions. As she'd quite rightly pointed out, she'd saved his life. And as for the question of killing the boar, yes, he was being hypocritical.

When they'd first come to the island, he'd tried to remain aloof, somehow distanced from the killing and the preparing of the animals they'd caught for food.

Perhaps if Hincheley had used knives rather than his talons, he might have accepted the situation quicker. Perhaps if Mary had looked just a little sickened as she'd expertly skinned their catches as effortlessly as if she were peeling off little fur coats, he wouldn't have felt they were reverting to a more brutal, bestial state.

But, as Celly had pointed out, all this had also taken place at home; it was all just conveniently out of sight, out of mind, so that he and everyone else could kid themselves that the neatly packaged meat on the shelves had never, ever really been another living being.

Still, despite the recognition of his own hypocrisy, he was glad that Celly had refused to cut the boar up in front of him.

Now, if they'd _both_ done it, using _knives_ , perhaps, you know...

'What about it?' Celly demanded, having finally drawn up to a halt and angrily turning on him.

'We can't just leave it–'

'We've already had this conversation, haven't we?'

'I was wrong; before I mean. Wrong to make out what you were doing...You saved me. Thanks Celly. I'd be dead or injured if it weren't for you.'

Celly frowned, sighed, like she was wondering if Jake's apology made up for his previous behaviour.

'Okay,' she said resignedly. 'But I'm _not_ cutting it up in front of you!'

She tilted her head back slightly, closed her eyes as if concentrating.

'Mary; Mary's nearby. She can take care of it.'

As Celly finished speaking to him, she continued to say something in a language of hisses, of tongue clicks.

Jake had heard her parents and their servants use this language before. It was the first time that he'd heard Celly using it however.

How did it work over such long distances when used so quietly?

How had Celly known that Mary was nearby?

Had Celly somehow heard her with what must be an acute sense of hearing? Or was it more to do with a heightened sense of smell. As Celly had concentrated, it seemed to him that she could have also been raising her nose to smell the air.

'What did you say to her?' he asked.

'I told her there was large, dead boar at trap five. She said she'd deal with it; but I sensed she wondered why _I_ wasn't dealing with it,'

Her eyes probed his as she said this, like she was holding him responsible for her inability to take care of things.

'How'd you know where Mary was? Could you hear her?'

Celly shook her head.

'No; at least, not until she was directly speaking to me.'

'Then you _smelt_ her?'

Celly's eyes blazed.

'What? Smelt her like an animal, you mean?'

'No, no...I just meant–'

Whirling around, Celly stormed away from him once again, shouting back over her shoulder.

'You just meant I'm a monster and _you're_ not!'

*

# Chapter 6

As they descended through the jungle and neared the beach, the covering of thick leaves began to thin out a little, allowing Jake fleeting glimpses of the crudely made huts they now called home.

It was hardly Swiss Family Robinson, but everything had been ingeniously constructed to make it all as civilised as possible.

Yes, Jake thought; _civilised_.

Everyone had worked hard to create a home that provided as many comforts as possible. A form of thick canvas sheeting had been made from shredded and woven palm leaves, whereas walls were generally constructs of a lattice work of wooden strips supported by a timber frame. There were separate areas to prepare the food, separate huts for the latrines, all of which could be easily flushed clean using the waters of a diverted stream connected to a covered cess pit. There was also a small patch were some of the island's wild vegetables were now being cultivated.

Of course, even when 'working hard', Jack's efforts hadn't produced as much as everyone else.

He had watched in awe as, even in mid transformation, those around him used their incredible strength to break or wrench free the small trees they were constructing the huts from. Talons sliced and planed, or dug at and scooped up the earth. Metallically glistening skin appeared immune to the cuts and damage a human might suffer as he went about similar arduous tasks.

As if they were taking care not to alarm Jake, no one underwent a full transformation in front of him unless it was absolutely necessary, such as when a heavy load had to be moved over a distance. Even in these cases, however, Celly would refuse to transform, just as she never used any of her extra abilities while he was present.

Until today, Jake had never seen Celly change since her family had fled to the island. Yet he had not only guessed but also now knew for certain that Celly helped out fully whenever he wasn't around, having caught glimpses of her flying overhead while out walking in the jungle.

And he had thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

*

In the coolness of the water, their earlier arguments had been forgotten.

As he had watched Celly washing herself clean of the blood in the rolling, sun-dappled waves, Jake – exhausted and sticky with sweat – had found their whispering promise of soothing relief impossible to resist.

His dive was both shallow and awkward, splashing Celly as he rushed past her.

She laughed, chased him, splashed him back.

She swung away, her own moves fast, graceful, flowing through the water with the suppleness of a mermaid. She hardly disturbed the shoals of fish passing around her, even as she dipped beneath the clear waters and swam amongst them.

Giving chase, Jake's relatively awkward actions sent the fish scattering in panic.

They both broke the surface spluttering, giggling uncontrollably.

'Got you!' Jake cried triumphantly, clasping Celly tightly by her arms.

'Only because I was laughing so much at how clumsy you are!' Celly chuckled.

'Oh, so now I'm clumsy am I?' Jake teased light-heartedly, letting go of Celly's arms. 'Just because I can't swim like I was born in water, like you, eh?'

'I _wasn't_ born in water; just in case you're being serious!'

She laughed again, if only because it was good to see Jake laughing and joking once more. Since they'd forcibly brought him to the island, he had naturally switched regularly between outright anger and moody acceptance of his situation.

'Look,' Celly said, 'if you must know, I'm sorry we brought you here.'

Jake took her attempt at an apology the wrong way.

'Just because we had an argument?' he said.

'No, silly!' She playfully struck his bared chest. 'Not sorry as in sorry that you're here! Sorry that we had to bring you! I wish we could have left you behind. Left you with your poor mum and dad.'

'I knew _that_ silly!' he replied with a nevertheless pleased grin.

'I'm sure we can let you go back soon! And dad will drop off your letter to your mum and dad, as he promised.'

Erdwin had flown back home with the intention of contacting Dr Frobisher and making sure that the doctor and his family had managed to avoid being implicated in the deaths of the police officers, as well as picking up news of any further developments. He'd also pointed out that it was a perfect opportunity for Jake to let his parents know that he was alive and well by writing a letter (carefully checked, to ensure there was no coding revealing his whereabouts) that Erdwin would leave with the doctor to be posted later.

Jake shrugged, unconcerned either way by Celly's comment.

'I can't see that mum or dad will be that worried about me, to be honest Celly. I'm sure that doctor of yours told them and the police I didn't seem to be in any danger when I was taken by your family.'

'Jake! Don't be so ridiculous!' Reaching out, Celly shook him tenderly. 'Of course they'll be worried!'

Jake shrugged again.

'Doubt it. Fact is, they were thinking of sending me away to boarding school pretty soon anyway. It's not like I ever saw much of them anyway; they were always so busy working. You know; high-flyers weren't they, right? Board meetings to attend, clients to meet, can't afford not to postpone this, sorry about your birthday Jake, blah blah blah.'

'But you, Jake; _you_ must miss _them_ , right?'

Jake grimaced as he briefly pondered this.

'Only as much as I missed them when I hadn't seen them for a few days because our individual flight paths never really crossed. Why'd you think I was always round at your place, eh?'

Giggling, Celly pushed him playfully in the chest again.

'And there was me thinking _I_ was the attraction!'

Jake stumbled, lost his footing, and would have fallen back into the water if Celly hadn't swiftly swung an arm around his waist and brought him back to his feet with nothing more than a panicked splashing.

'But you _were_ the attraction, silly,' Jake said, slipping his own arm around her waist to steady himself. 'And as for now, well; there are worse places to be together, aren't there?'

With a lazy wave of his other arm, he drew Celly's attention to their glorious surroundings.

The hills were covered in an amazing variety of greens, of weirdly shaped leaves, of exotic trees and their vibrant blooms. The curling beach framed it, blinding white in the sun. Then came the sea, the sea they were still standing in, an ever-changing mix of pure, rich blues, topped with an endless, undulating web of sparkling glints.

The reflected sun threw up glistening silver patterns across their bodies, shimmering, vibrating, bringing their skins alive with a rolling light that seemed to have its own heartbeat. Their bodies shone as if made of sapphires.

'As for mum and dad,' Jake continued resignedly, 'well, we've all got to grow up sometime, haven't we?'

Suddenly, he felt Celly slumping limply against him.

'Celly, you all right?' he said anxiously, turning to see why he was now having to support her in the crook of his arm.

There was no reply. Celly's face was blank. Her eyes had rolled back beneath her lids, revealing noting but white orbs.

'Celly!'

Wrapping his other arm around her, Jake began to urgently drag her through the water back towards the beach.

The jolting, lurching moves and the splashing of the water across her face seemed to slightly revive Celly, although she still sounded bleary, dazed, as she spoke.

'What? What happened?'

'You fainted...you fainted, or something.'

'Really? Sorry...sorry.'

Although Celly could almost stand for herself once more, she was still a little unsteady on her feet. Jake continued to support her as they plunged through the swirling waters. It was ungainly, awkward, clinging to each other like this as they had to raise their feet high to avoid the clashing waves. They began to laugh at their own awkwardness, the ridiculousness of it all.

With relief, they both threw themselves down face-first onto the soft, warm sand. Still laughing. Still holding onto each other around their waists.

They turned their heads to look at each other, their faces only a hand's width apart.

'Sorry Jake,' Celly said. 'I don't know what was wrong with me out there. I just suddenly felt dizzy, for some reason.'

'It might be the heat. Or perhaps you're just exhausted after taking on that wild boar.'

Jake grinned stupidly.

Celly grinned back.

'I don't think so; I felt fine until just a few seconds ago.'

'Well, you seem okay now; that's the main thing, right?'

Celly nodded in reply. Closing her eyes, she smiled contentedly.

She looked so peaceful, Jake thought.

So...so beautiful.

The slight upturn to her delicate nose.

The sweeping curves of her lips.

The smooth arc of her chin.

The way she moved slightly as she breathed.

The way the skin glistened, even now, when she was untransformed. Yes, there was a light coating of sparkling, crystallised salt, of shimmering drops of swiftly drying water; but her skin always shone, as if it were the finest velvet.

Raising his head slightly, silently, he looked past the shreds of what remained of her t-shirt towards her back.

It was a back like any other girl's – any other _beautiful_ girl's.

The flowing smoothness, broken only by the hillocks of her shoulder blades.

There was no sign of where the wings came from, where they vanished into.

Perhaps he was at the wrong angle to see clearly.

He rose up a bit more on his elbow.

No; he'd been right.

The skin was flawless. Like the wings somehow came from the skin itself.

How was that possible?

Delicately, he brought his hand up from his waist, running it lightly across the skin of her lower back.

He shivered at the excitement of his own touch.

So so so beautiful...

God, she was gorgeous!

Wonderful!

Unbelievable!

How he loved her! How he wanted to tell her that–

'That tickles!' Celly giggled, trembled.

Embarrassed, Jake quickly withdrew his hand, let the rest of his body fall back towards the sand.

'Sorry, Celly! I...I...just couldn't resist touching you!' he blurted out, deciding he couldn't lie to her. 'Sorry, sorry. I _know_ it's ridiculous, but–'

'What was ridiculous about it? I _enjoyed_ it.'

'You did?'

'Why wouldn't I?'

Celly smiled lazily, the curves of her lips curling more invitingly than ever. Her eyes were looking directly into his, like there was a connection between them, a link between the darkness of her eyes and the darkness of his.

Drawing them in, drawing them closer.

Instinctively, as if working together as one, knowing what the other wanted, knowing what the other was about to do, they tilted their heads ever so slightly, so that their lips met, entwined perfectly, the curves of one complementing the curves of the other.

So soft.

So warm.

So strangely but wonderfully moist.

Jake could feel Celly's breath making her lips quiver. Making his lips quiver.

He ran his hand against the skin of her back once more.

She trembled.

He trembled.

He...he had never experienced anything so _wonderful_. So _incredible_!

Oh how he loved her. How he wanted her, needed her.

Smoothly, he slipped his other arm beneath her body, bringing both his hands up now along the indents, the arcs, of her back, to bring her closer, tighter towards him.

Celly's hands slipped around his own back, deftly, softly, caressing his own skin, discovering his own curves, his own areas of softness, of firmness.

Kissing her still, continuously, Jake ran his lips across her cheek, beneath her chin, down to her neck, her throat.

Celly sighed, arced her head back, offering him more of her neck, her throat, for Jake to kiss, taste, almost bite hungrily.

Yes, yes; he was _hungry_ for her.

He had never wanted anything more in his life than he wanted to taste every part of Celly.

To caress every part.

To _revel_ in everything about her.

And the sparkling light reflected from the waves danced about them, playing across their bodies, uniting them, making them appear as one.

*

They lay on their backs in the sand, an arm of Jake's cradling Celly's head, an arm of Celly's curling around behind him.

'So,' he said, half-jokingly, 'everything about you seems human – ouch!'

Reaching over with her free arm, Celly impishly jabbed him in his side.

_'Seems_ human? Was all that just some sort of test, then, to find out who's human and who's not?'

'Well, you _look_ human, _feel_ human, _taste_ – ouch!'

Chuckling mischievously, Celly jabbed him again.

'Who's coming on like an animal now, eh?' she laughed. ' _Taste_?'

Jake rose up slightly on his elbow, looking down on her, running a hand across the indent of her stomach so that she trembled and giggled with delight.

'You taste – _delicious_!'

He bent down to kiss her once more.

Yes, yes; she _was_ delicious!

At last he pulled back, smiling, happy. He glanced down at his hand as he continued to caress and tickle her smooth stomach.

'But if everything outside _seems_ human, what's the difference? Is it all inside? Is _that_ where you're different.'

_'Mainly_ , I suppose. We've got a pretty complex system of lungs in there, according to Dr Frobisher.'

'Ah, so I was right; the doctor is one of you too, right?'

'One of _us_?' Celly said, a little peeved once more. 'We're not going back to monsters and humans again, are we?'

Jake laughed.

'No, no; sorry! I meant – well, he _had_ to know about you, about you being _different_ , if he treated you, wouldn't he?'

Celly nodded.

'We'd have been discovered ages ago if we didn't have our own doctors, surgeons–'

'Wait a minute! Just how many of you are there?'

'We've lived peacefully amongst you for ages Jake! We _are_ like you in _most_ ways; in fact, we've never taken part in any of your wars. We've been conscientious objectors, refusing conscription.'

'Hmn, was that _really_ because you're more peaceful? Or because any medical check-up or wound would soon reveal that you weren't really human? That you were really aliens, living amongst us?'

_'Aliens_?' Celly laughed. 'Is that what you think we are? We've been around on this earth longer than you have, Jake! Earlier humans mistook us for gods. The Babylonians believed their empire had been found by Dagon who – for some _weird_ reason – was always pictured as half man, half fish.'

Having seen Celly flying over the jungle, her immense wings glowing metallically in the sun, Jake could well believe that others like her had been taken to be gods or goddesses. Had other awed humans believed they were seeing angels?

'So,' he said, 'if you're _not_ aliens, then what _are_ you exactly?'

'You won't believe it.'

'After what _I've_ seen, I'll believe it.'

'Well, you, _you're_ descended from apes, right?'

'Huh huh,' Jake agreed doubtfully, seeing already where this was leading yet unable to think of any animal Celly's species could have evolved from.

'Well,' Celly continued, 'the creatures we evolved from are no longer around, as you humans wiped out the very last of them.'

'Dodos?' Jake said with an amused smirk. 'Ouch!'

_'Dodos_!' Celly gave a satisfied smile as she nudged him hard then playfully rolled on top of him. 'Are you saying I look like I'm descended from a _dodo_?'

They chuckled and giggled as they mock wrestled amongst the sand.

'Ouch! Oww!' Jake cried out. 'I'm kidding, I'm kidding!'

From his position beneath Celly, looking directly up into the sky, Jake suddenly saw the sparkle of spread, flapping wings passing above him. And suddenly, Jake knew the answer he'd been seeking.

'I get it, I get it,' he chuckled as Celly continued to pretend to punch and jab at his chest. 'You're the human equivalent of a _dragon_ , right?'

Celly drew back, grinning, impressed.

'Got it,' she said. 'So, how did you guess?'

Jake pointed over her shoulder, up into the sky.

'When I saw them flying towards us in the distance.'

He could now see that there were two of them, not one as he'd first supposed. They were coming in from across the sea, moving quickly.

Celly turned to look. Frowning anxiously, she rose to her feet.

'It's dad,' she said, 'and he's got someone else with him.'

*

# Chapter 7

By the time that Celly and Jake had run back to the camp, everyone else was already there. Erdwin was well into explaining what had happened on his trip.

'...he says the police suspect something isn't quite right, and he's worried they might be thinking of taking him in...'

Even though everyone had gathered in the rather cramped shade offered by one of the camp's makeshift gazebos, the only person Jake really noticed was the newcomer. He was a boy of about his own age, Jake reckoned, although he had the self-assurance and presence of someone a few years older. He was tall, athletically slim (he was still bared above the waist, his shirt tied by its sleeves around him), blond and classically handsome. Like Celly, he had skin that glistened as if permanently lightly tanned.

In summation, the boy was everything that Jake thought _he_ wasn't.

All at once, Jake felt envious, jealous, threatened.

Particularly when the boy glanced Celly's way and, instead of instantly averting his gaze – as many boys would, fearing being caught staring at a pretty girl – he kept on looking until his eyes locked with hers.

The boy grinned confidently.

Celly smiled back shyly, yet obviously flattered by his attention.

'Celly!' Erdwin cried, turning towards them on hearing their entrance.

He rushed towards his daughter, almost lifting her off of her feet he hugged her so hard in greeting.

'I've missed you so much, missed you _all_ so much!' he exclaimed happily, even turning to Jake with a wide, welcoming smile. 'And Jake, as I promised, I dropped off your letter. According to Harry – Dr Frobisher – they'd accepted his explanation that you'd seemed a willing _temporary_ hostage; sorry, but he'd explained _that_ by saying you and Celly obviously had eyes for each other.'

He said it with a chuckle, implying it was the most ridiculous thing, such that Jake wondered if he were about to add 'complete nonsense, of course!' Fortunately, Erdwin didn't notice Jake and Celly's exchange of nervous, embarrassed glances. He was too intent on excitedly introducing the boy to Celly.

'And this, Celly,' he continued, pretty much breathlessly, 'is Harry's boy; Leon. You remember Leon, surely? From when you used to play with him? When you were both _much_ younger?'

Jake picked up an intonation in Erdwin's voice that seemed to imply that, now they were older, it was only natural that Celly and Leon should be looking at being something more than friends.

'You've changed a lot since then,' Leon said to Celly with an assured grin, his eyes twinkling warmly.

Celly smiled back bashfully, obviously flattered rather than unnerved by Leon's appreciative, lingering gaze.

Jake felt sharp, stabbing pangs of pain in chest. His throat was abruptly dry and sore, as if it had somehow become twisted.

And, almost as if he could sense Jake's discomfort, Leon glanced his way. It was a fleeting glance, but in that brief stare Jake sensed disgust, even hate.

Only a moment ago he had felt so wonderful, so light headed with joy, that he could have almost believed that he was also capable of flying. Now, suddenly, Jake was experiencing something akin to an addict's withdrawal symptoms; a ponderousness, a dullness, to his actions and thoughts that weakened and shamed him, leaving him feeling useless and inferior.

Leon wasn't looking Jake's way anymore. His charming grin had returned.

'My father believes he's safe for now,' Leon explained. 'But, just in case, he wanted me to come out here until it all definitely blows over.'

'And your mother? How's she taking all this?' Celly's mum asked anxiously.

'She's fine, thanks, Mrs Volance,' Leon reassured her. 'Like dad, she's worried about the way the police are continuing to probe around – which, considering it's their own people who've been lost, is only to be expected. But also like dad, she can't see that they'll find anything that will make them begin to even consider the truth. Of course, the other reason why they're putting so much of their resources into this case is standing right here before us.'

As he nodded in Jake's direction, he lowered his eyes menacingly.

'I know it's an awful thing to say,' he added casually, 'but they would have put less effort into solving his murder than they're putting into solving his kidnapping, hoping to find him alive. It might be safer for everyone if–'

At last noticing Leon's simmering antagonism towards Jake, Erdwin broke in urgently.

'We can't return him just yet, Leon. We've let George and Fiona – Jake's parents – know that he's fine. That might take the heat off the police investigations.'

Leon frowned bemusedly.

'Wow! That's what I call loving parents, Jake!' He glanced Jake's way again, this time with what could have been interpreted as either a pitying smile or a smirk, depending on your opinion of Leon. 'According to all the papers, you've been abducted by a bunch of callous killers; and your parents treat it all like it's just some elongated sleepover?'

'They know the Volances would never hurt me,' Jake snapped back.

'We knew Jake's parents, Leon.' Celly's mum was embarrassed, defensive. 'They know we're not like...well, however the papers are describing us! They _know_ we're not like that!'

'I'm sorry, Mrs Volance; I didn't mean to upset you, I just meant that with all those photos of those police officers appearing in th–'

'Yes, yes; thank you Leon,' Erdwin interrupted. 'We _do_ have an idea what the papers will be saying and showing. But Jake's an old friend of Celly's – his parents _do_ know he'll be safe with us; and the letter from Jake will reassure them even further.'

'Still,' Leon persisted, 'I would feel a lot happier about _my_ parents coming out of all this undiscovered if only we could somehow, say, _return_ Jake safe and sound back to his parents – ensuring, of course, we can trust him not to reveal what we are. Oh; but I don't suppose that would be possible, would it?'

Jake simmered with fury. Leon had managed to sound throughout as if he were both concerned and considerate, but there was an unmistakable barb at the end – that Jake was a threat to them all.

What made the accusation so strong, however, was that it was correct. Jake had realised this himself just a few days ago. How could the Volances return him when he knew that they weren't human, but an entirely different species? He had hoped, of course, that he could be returned as soon as the police worked this out for themselves. But what if they didn't work it out? Why should they even consider such a seemingly unlikely possibility?

And even if the police did discover the truth, what then? Would the Volances still hold him here to prevent him revealing their island hideaway? Yes, he had lost all sense of direction when they had flown out here; even over land, they had been far too high for him to obtain any idea of where they were heading. Yet just by describing the island – its vegetation, the curve of its beaches, the climate – he could provide more than enough clues for someone to figure out its general position.

'It's true, isn't it?' he said bitterly. 'You can't let me go back, can you?'

Erdwin and Perisa smiled wryly at each other, a sign, Jake presumed, that they had been caught out, that now they would have to tell the truth.

'The truth is,' Erdwin said sadly, turning to Jake, 'that, yes – we can and will let you go back.'

'What?'

Jake and Leon spoke at the same time, Jake in amazement, Leon in anger.

Erdwin now turned to Leon.

'Your father, Leon; he knows the police don't believe his version of events. How could they, when there isn't any story he could make up that reasonably covers everything that happened that day? Our lawyers – Kubrick and Stanhope – are fighting a losing battle in preventing the police from holding him. As soon as he has settled his affairs, your father and mother are intending on flying out here, possibly as early as tonight. But I fear that our presence amongst humanity can't remain a secret much longer. Modern forensics are far too sophisticated for us to be able to control events like this, as we have in the past.'

'But the island; _he_ can still let them know where we've come!' Leon spat, glaring hatefully at Jake.

'Jake wouldn't tell them!' Celly insisted.

'We know that, darling,' her mother said. 'But the police would pester him for descriptions of the island, and even Jake would find it hard to keep on refusing.'

'We'd move anyway,' Erdwin said, smiling reassuringly at Jake. 'So yes, as I was saying earlier, you can be returned soon Jake.'

'If we're about to be discovered,' asked Hincheley, who had remained resolutely quiet until now, 'what's going to happen to those who haven't had the chance to escape, like we have? Shouldn't we get word to them?'

'Kubrick and Stanhope are warning everyone they know, and asking them to pass on the message as quickly as possible. That's why Harry has stayed so long, despite being under increasing pressure from the police; he doesn't want to alarm the authorities with his disappearance until it's absolutely necessary, giving everyone as much chance as possible to spread the warning.'

'Then why haven't we seen or heard of more people flying to safety?' Mary asked.

'For the same reason that Harry's staying put for as long as he can; the longer everyone remains calm, the longer we have to prepare everyone for what's about to happen. Besides, Harry says that everyone he's warned has been pretty sanguine about it; they're both grateful and amazed we've remained undiscovered for so long. We've always been aware that we couldn't remain hidden for ever. They're hoping that humanity's progressed enough to accept our presence, much as there's now far more understanding amongst the different races.'

'The difference between the human races is pretty minimal,' Hincheley growled ominously. 'They might not be so understanding when they feel threatened by a species stronger and – yes, let's be honest about this – _superior_ to them.'

Erdwin shrugged, an anxiety in his grin that he couldn't hide. It was as if, Jake thought, he'd already considered this point and didn't want to accept the assumptions he'd made regarding any possible consequences.

Noting the sense of unease that had spread across the gathering, Perisa smiled brightly as she turned first to Celly then Leon.

'Celly,' she said remarkably gaily, 'why don't you show Leon around the island? It will help you get to know each other again, and remember old times!'

Jake couldn't help but notice that the uneasiness hanging over everyone immediately vanished. All the adults were now smiling expectantly.

'Sure,' Celly replied. 'Me and Jake can show him round, can't we Jake?'

The smiles vanished even swifter than the sense of unease had.

Obviously, Jake realised, this isn't what the Volances and even their servants had had in mind when Celly's mum had suggested taking Leon on a tour of the island.

'Oh, but that could take _ages_ , Celly,' Perisa said, gently reprimanding her. 'You could do it so much quicker if you flew, couldn't you?'

Celly glanced back at Jake apologetically, her eyes pleading for understanding as she said, 'I suppose so.'

Jake shrugged; what else could he do?

Celly's mother could have just about leapt for joy, he reckoned, when Leon stepped forward, holding out his hand for Celly to take.

Even Mary looked like she was pretty close to erupting into a burst of cheers and rapturous clapping

Leon was already transforming, his skin glistening with gloriously captivating hints of emerald and amethyst, his wings unfurling as much as they could within the confinement of the canopy and its supporting stanchions.

Jake had to stop himself from gasping at the beauty of it all; a cathedral's stained glass made real, solid, flowing and moving with incredible grace.

How could Celly fail to be as equally impressed as he was?

Taking Leon's hand, Celly turned, leading him out from beneath the canopy. As soon as they were clear of everyone, she underwent her own transformation, her skin shimmering like waves of molten gold and silver, her wings like captured and elegantly controlled sunrays.

Suddenly, Leon stumbled, as if his legs were giving way beneath him.

He lifted a hand to his forehead, clasping it in the way you would if suffering a dreadful headache, or trying to stop yourself from feeling dazed, dizzy.

His wings crumpled slightly, such that they dragged weakly and uselessly across the sand behind him.

What was wrong with him? Jake wondered.

He whirled around, surprisingly anxious, wondering what everyone else would make of Leon's abrupt change.

Everyone was beaming happily, watching Leon's bizarrely dazed antics as if they ranked amongst the most wonderful things they'd ever seen. They seemed excited, enthralled, rather than apprehensive.

Could it just be that Leon was tired after his journey?

Jake studied Leon more carefully now, trying to interpret his drunken stumbling as nothing more than a sign of a fatigue.

Yes, yes; it had been a long journey after all. It would have taken a great deal of energy and strength out of him.

And, as if Leon had abruptly arrived at the same sensible conclusion, as if he had decided that he couldn't fly another inch, he completely furled his wings away. Celly immediately followed suit, her wings rippling in the sunlight like the shimmering of a mirage, then smoothly disappearing into her back.

Still holding hands, they made their way down the beach like two young lovers.

So, Jake thought, he wouldn't have slowed them down after all.

Then again, he told himself bitterly, I don't think anybody will be happy if I run after them.

*

Very few of the pebbles he was throwing skimmed across the water as they were intended to do.

Rather, they plunged into an oncoming wave, or simply hit the sea at the wrong angle, instantly vanishing beneath the surface.

Jake didn't care. His mind wasn't on aiming low and flat enough, or getting the spin on the pebbles right.

Throwing the pebbles was simply a sign of his anger, his frustration. When they disappeared without a trace, without a skip or bounce, beneath the waves, it was a satisfyingly perfect summation of how he felt at the moment; overwhelmed, small and useless against the might of the never-ending, unstoppable waves.

Less than quarter of an hour ago, he was the happiest he'd ever been.

Now he felt more miserable than he would have believed possible.

He felt strangely empty, yet also ridiculously heavy. Awkward, graceless. Dumb, stupefied.

Like the control of all his senses had deserted him.

Like everything about him was poorly formed, badly connected.

Everything about him was hateful, useless.

In short, he was everything that Celly wasn't.

Celly was wonderful, gorgeous, graceful. Celly was fun, bright, sparkling.

Celly was perfect.

Celly was superior.

Out of his league.

How could he have ever fooled himself that he and Celly belonged together?

Yet it was Celly who had made him feel that he wasn't inferior, that they were made for each other.

Only moments ago, Celly had made him feel as perfect as she was.

Almost made him feel, in fact, that he could fly, just as she could.

_That's_ how happy he had been.

And now?

Like the pebbles that sank and sank, vanishing in the waves; that's how he felt now.

*

# Chapter 8

Farther along the beach, Jake came across the indents in the sand where he had lain with Celly.

He angrily scrubbed it out with his feet. Kicked at the sand like he was kicking Leon.

He looked out at the glistening waves, remembering how he and Celly had come together, been drawn to each other, within their rolling embrace.

He couldn't scrub that away, could he?

The flowing, sparkling light had rippled across their skin. Making them glow. The glow of silver, diamonds and sapphires. Of stars and the clearest sky.

For a moment, awash in the sea's undulating glow, he had foolishly flattered himself that he was as beautiful as she was.

Fooled himself that he too looked as if he had been blessed by the sun herself, reflecting her glow, her magnificence.

Of course, in his case it had only been a briefly borrowed beauty.

In Celly's case, it was perfectly natural to her. Like she was an offshoot of the sun. Like she had been born magically from an elemental fire.

Because yes, even untransformed, Celly's skin glowed deliciously. This glow, though, was the luminosity of perfect, unblemished skin, the radiance of health, the golden sheen of the lightest, most flawless tan, continuously bathed in the sun's light.

They all had it; all the dragons.

Now he came to think about it, yes, even when in human form, there was this strange sense of a faultless, brilliant aura about them.

What was it they said about certain people lighting up a room? As if they carried an inner radiance?

Yes, that was the Volances all right.

Their servants, too.

And – though he was loath to admit it – yes, Leon as well.

Wasn't that what all his anger was about, really?

That, unlike himself, Leon possessed a beauty comparable to Celly's, in its way.

He was tall, slim, elegant.

Every movement flowed effortlessly, one into the other.

Even as humans, even though they weren't actually humans, they were a more perfect, superior species.

And as the creatures they actually were? They could have been formed from everything that humans deemed precious.

Gold. Silver. Rubies. Sapphires. Opals. Emeralds.

Hah! Hadn't he read in fairy stories, in legends, that dragons jealously guarded hoards of precious gems and treasure?

How ridiculous was that?

Their skin was more beautiful, more awe-inspiring, than any treasure hoard he could imagine!

And, come to that, wasn't here something else those legends and medieval illustrations had also got so ridiculously, so laughably wrong?

The way they told of or pictured a single knight in armour taking them on!

Oh sure!

A single slash of a talon would open them up like they were a handy can of fresh meat!

Jake blinked, shaded his eyes, as a bright burst of sunlight flashed in the sky just above him. Incongruously, he also abruptly found himself enveloped in a growing shadow.

He glanced up towards the glistening ball of golden light. It was descending swiftly towards him, a miniature sun in its own right, a fiery, falling star.

Celly.

Celly was dropping towards him, her wings now halting and slowing her fall as if she were a descending angel.

The sun's rays shimmered through the languidly beating gossamer wings, seemingly transforming the surrounding air into shimmering, fluctuating streams of liquefied gold.

Celly giggled happily.

Then, suddenly, her arms were wrapped tightly around his shoulders, his neck.

She drew his head close to hers. His mouth to her lips.

Then her wings curled about them both, an embracing cocoon of blazing light, of the most reassuring warmth.

*

# Chapter 9

Just to think; she had always wondered what her first kiss would be like.

How was it supposed to work?

Did your lips meet straight on, or at an angle?

Should they be dry? Or should she wet them slightly, with a secretive wipe of her tongue tip?

But not too wet, surely; that would be _horrible_ , wouldn't it?

And where did your nose go? Wouldn't it get in the way?

Now, it all just seemed so natural. So easy.

So _meant_ _to_ _be_

Like it required no thought at all.

No thought apart, that is, from how wonderful it all was.

How incredibly delicious it felt.

As for her nose, well; it just somehow fitted perfectly against Jake's face.

Just as his nose, his cheeks, his lips fitted perfectly against her cheeks, her lips.

Fitted, in fact, as if they had been deliberately formed to match, to complement each other.

Everything brushed lightly, strangely tantalisingly, against each other.

Like their skin was whispering, one whispering its love for the other.

Jake didn't need to talk to tell her how much he loved her.

His lips, mute yet endlessly moving, flitting across her neck, nibbling beneath her chin, her ears, savouring hungrily the rising of her throat as she ecstatically arched her head back; they told her this in ways words couldn't express.

And when their lips met once more, they nestled delicately, or merged firmly, the contours blending and inseparable, as if each needed the other to feel fully whole.

Their lips were soft, moist, malleable, unresisting.

Then they would be hard, dry, firm and demanding more.

They could be parted, the breath exhaled hot, excited.

Then they could close, pout, tickle, their coolness tingling and delicious.

His would tenderly envelop her bottom lip.

Then hers would wrap around and teasingly, joyously nibble at his upper lip.

Their lips came and blended perfectly together in so many ways, ways Celly couldn't have imagined less than a day ago.

How does that work? she might think.

How is that possible? she might wonder.

But she needed to neither think nor wonder.

It just _was_.

And it was all so perfect.

*

Cocooned within Celly's enveloping wings, bathed in her own volcanic light, Jake felt as if they were one and the same thing; he was a part of her, she a part of him, blending, absorbing one into the other.

The shimmering light of golden flashes and silver threads played over them, bringing them together, making their differences imperceptible and unimportant, merging them as if it were some ancient, alchemical process.

And she felt so light! So incredibly, unbelievably light!

As light as he felt once more. So light he could almost believe they could soar up into the heavens, his physical body left behind, his spiritual nature freed.

It was the cocoon that creates the butterfly.

The womb that you emerge from refreshed, reborn.

He was no longer purely Jake.

He was no one, nobody, without the part of him that was now Celly.

*

There was a blaze of emerald light.

As if caught up in an explosion of jewels, both Jake and Celly were wrenched up off their feet. Awkwardly stumbling, they toppled, at last coming apart as they ungainly fell into the sand.

Celly's wings unfurled, releasing Jake so that he spilled out across the ground, making him blink confusedly in the sudden brightness of the sun.

'Leon! What do you think you're doing?' Celly demanded furiously.

Leon was standing over them, the sun reflecting off of him as a radiant fire of phosphorous and copper.

'What do you think _you're_ doing?' Leon spat back at Celly. 'You and this...this...'

He glowered down at Jake in unspeakable disgust.

Stepping forwards, he bent down, roughly grabbing the bewildered Jake by an arm, pulling him aggressively to his feet.

'We _don't_ mix!' he snarled, his fists clenched as if readying them to strike. 'Our species _don't_ mix!'

Celly was back on her feet, pushing herself between them.

'Leon! You have _no_ right to–'

'Oh, don't I? And so what do you think your mother and father will think of this when I tell them, eh?'

'You wouldn't!'

'You're right! There's a _better_ way of solving this!'

Pushing her aside, he grabbed hold of Jake once more, but this time firmly by both arms.

Then, with a powerful beat of his fully outstretched wings, he soared upwards – taking the unwilling and petrified Jake with him.

*

# Chapter 10

With a flap of her own massive wings, Celly immediately followed Leon, keeping up with his rapid ascent into the air.

'Don't harm him Leon!' she cried after him angrily, adding more worriedly, ' _Please_ don't harm him!'

'You care for him more than you do me!'

Leon abruptly spun around in mid-air, the unfortunate Jake hanging beneath him jerking violently, his arms wrenching painfully, his legs flailing uselessly like a rag doll's.

_'He's_ the one in danger!' Celly hissed, drawing up alongside Leon. 'Not you!'

'I meant I could tell _before_ now! When you were showing me around the island! I could tell you didn't feel about me the way I couldn't help but feel about you!'

'That's hardly _my_ fault, Leon! I was asked to _fly_ with you around the island!'

'You must have known the effect you would have on me! You should have refused!'

Jake wished they would have their argument somewhere else; preferably somewhere on the ground, and preferably not involving him.

He felt powerless, petrified. The ground was sickeningly far away.

'How could I have refused?' Celly snapped. 'How was I to know you weren't already committed to someone else?'

'As I suppose you already are! Going by the way you remain unaffected by my display!'

'That's just how these things can unfortunately happen Leon, you know that! You were just too late–'

_'Just_ too late?'

Leon spat out the words as if he were completely disgusted by what he had heard.

He shook Jake carelessly, angrily. His grip agonisingly tightened around Jake's arms.

'To _him_?' Leon asked incredulously. 'You mean you're committed to _him_? How is that _possible_?'

'I don't _know_!' Celly wailed hopelessly. 'It just happened that way, that's all!'

Jake frowned, puzzled by Celly's reply. She made it sound as if – well, as if what?

As if their being together was all some incredible mistake?

'Then there's only one way to release you!' Leon declared resolutely.

And with that, he let Jake go.

*

# Chapter 11

Jake didn't scream.

He couldn't; the shock of the abrupt drop took his breath away, froze his throat.

The air rushed past him, rippling his skin, even his facial muscles.

He was plummeting towards the rocks below. Even if he hit the water, from this height it would be like landing on a sheet of immovable iron.

The light, the sun, flashed around him once more, the rays blinding and disorientating in their intensity.

He felt the wind grabbing at him all the harder, all the more confusedly, as it snatched at him uselessly first here and then there.

It grasped like fingers at his shoulders, finally managing at last to take a firm hold.

Then, suddenly, Celly was alongside him, using her hold on his shoulders to curl her body and draw it beneath his.

To either side of them, her wings beat furiously at the air, struggling to gain the lift necessary to slow his plummeting fall.

Her arms wrapped along his waist. Her wings flailed frantically.

They fell like the fall of angels.

*

Celly had slowed and redirected their fall, but not enough to stop them striking the sand with a hard, jarring crump.

Celly, being the one underneath, took the worst of it. Even so, Jake, almost knocked unconscious, drifted swiftly in and out of a painful daze.

He was only dimly aware of Celly's wings crumpling around them, enveloping them once more in their peaceful cocoon.

With a start, with a sharp stab of horror, he realised that Celly was beneath him.

That she had shielded him from the worst of the fall.

That he had effectively landed on her, making things even worse for her.

That her arms were no longer wrapped around him.

He moved carefully, fearful of hurting her, turning slightly to face her.

Her eyes were closed.

Her breathing was weak, irregular, virtually non-existent.

'Celly!' he cried.

*

# Chapter 12

Even as Jake tenderly moved a wing aside and carefully lifted himself clear of Celly, he heard the heavy fluttering of wings signalling the arrival of her family.

'Celly!' Perisa wailed anxiously, immediately rushing to her daughter's side. 'What have you _done_ to her Jake?' she screamed accusingly, whirling on him as soon as she saw that Celly was unresponsive and deathly still.

'Me?'

Jake was still dazed from the fall. He frowned, shook his head in an attempt to clear the confusion he felt in his mind.

What had happened?

He couldn't remember exactly.

'I told Celly she shouldn't try and fly with him,' Leon insisted innocently, taking advantage of Jake's bewilderment.

Is that what had happened?

Again, Jake couldn't be sure.

It didn't _seem_ like it could be true. He had never asked, let alone insisted, that Celly should fly with him.

But, undoubtedly, he could remember that he and Celly had fallen.

And Leon?

He had been there too, hadn't he?

Had he gone for help when he had seen them fall?

Jake shook his head again; he couldn't recall everything that had happened.

Celly's father Erdwin was now also kneeling beside her, carefully inspecting every inch of her body.

'We shouldn't move her until we're sure we won't make her injuries worse.' He turned to the apprehensively waiting Hincheley and Mary. 'Put together a stretcher of some kind, quickly,' he commanded.

As they rushed off, Perisa broke off from her anxious caressing of Celly to furiously glare at Jake once more.

'What were you doing, Jake? Making her give you _lifts_!'

'I'm...I'm not sure that's what _really_ happened.'

The confused images flitting through Jake's befuddled mind were beginning to come together in a more coherent sequence.

'There was an argument...an argument between me and Leon.'

'Of course there was an argument!' Leon persisted. 'I told you to leave Celly alone!'

Jake felt bewildered once more.

Yes, that _was_ true, wasn't it?

Wait, wait!

What was he doing?

Here he was, involved in a stupid argument about who was responsible, while Celly was lying injured – perhaps even dying! – on the floor.

He spun around, falling to his knees alongside her as near as he could.

'How is she? Will she be all right?'

'I think she's been badly winded by the fall,' Erdwin replied distractedly as he continued his careful examination of his daughter.

'Winded?' Jake said, puzzled. 'How can just being winded have left her like this?'

'Being winded is highly dangerous to us!' Perisa irately snapped at him. 'Our lungs control far more of our bodies than yours do!'

'Yes, and thankfully, because of that, they're more resilient,' Erdwin said. 'But she took one hell of a fall here, obviously.'

'She's so _light_.'

Reaching for Celly's hand, Jake gently held it in his. It felt so delicate, so incredibly weightless. Yes, when he'd held her earlier, she'd seemed similarly weightless; but in moments of ecstasy, your senses could be fooled, couldn't they? Now she felt _physically_ insubstantial.

'She weighs nothing at all!'

Of course she weighs nothing, idiot!' Leon sneered behind him.

'That's how we fly, Jake.'

Perisa's anger had dissipated a little as she gently caressed Celly. Signs of life were returning, with the merest flicker of Celly's eyelids, a whispering moan.

'That's why our lungs are so important; they force helium throughout the capillaries of our bodies when we prepare to fly.'

'Mum? Dad?' Celly groaned uncertainly, smiling weakly.

'Celly!' Perisa exclaimed joyously, gratefully and tearfully kissing Celly on her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. 'How do you feel?' she asked urgently. 'Can you tell us where you think you're injured?'

'I'm okay; I think!' Celly chuckled quietly in reply.

With what little strength she had, she clutched Jake's hand.

'Jake; you're okay?' she said happily.

'Yeah, yeah, I'm okay,' Jake answered hoarsely, choked by his anxiety for Celly. 'Thanks to you Celly, thanks to you.'

Celly smiled.

Perisa smiled.

But Perisa's smile was a smile of conflicting emotions, Jake realised.

She was glad to see that Celly looked so content.

But she was also incredibly annoyed that it was Jake who made her so happy.

*

# Chapter 13

'Now, Celly,' Erdwin said tenderly as Hincheley and Mary returned with the stretcher they'd formed from palm-leaf sheeting and wooden poles, 'we're going to lift you on to this stretcher; but if you feel the slightest pain, anywhere, let us know immediately, okay?'

Celly nodded, smiled wanly.

'You _did_ prepare your back before hitting the ground, right?' Erdwin asked as the four adults kneeling around her prepared to carefully ease her onto the stretcher set out by her side.

Celly nodded again.

Jake wanted to ask what Erwin meant by 'preparing her back' but, as Leon was the only one who wasn't busy helping Celly, he decided not to. The others seemed to be having difficulty with Celly's massive wings, unsure how and where to wrap them so that they wouldn't drag on the ground, or hang down from the stretcher while it was carried. It seemed to Jake, too, that the wings were strangely rigid and unwieldy.

In the end, Celly's parents supported the wings, flying alongside the stretcher as it was swiftly and smoothly borne along by Hincheley and Mary. Ironically, Jake thought, they all grinned with relief when Celly returned to her more human form.

'Good, good,' Erdwin said ecstatically. 'With any luck, it was only a temporary injury; and, hopefully, nothing serious.'

Once again, Jake was itching to ask why everyone seemed to assume that her transformation was a sign of recovery. That meant, surely, that they had assumed something was wrong because she had retained her dragon form as they had tried to help her?

This time, he couldn't hold back from asking. As soon as Celly had been safely laid on a bed and Erdwin made a few more final checks, he tentatively approached Perisa.

'I don't understand,' he whispered to her, 'why does Celly's change make you think she's going to be all right?'

'We're hoping it means that, yes, she was badly winded, but she hasn't suffered any permanent damage,' Perisa whispered back.

Noticing that Jake still looked puzzled, she continued, 'She hadn't retracted her wings, yes? And they were too rigid, as if her lungs weren't adapting the pressures or the types of gasses to whatever was needed.'

'Ah, the _helium_ , right? But what about her back? What did Mr Volance mean when he asked Celly if she strengthened it?'

'To absorb the worst of the fall, she'd pump oxygen and other elements the lungs have extracted from the air into the capillaries of her back; making it both resilient yet also supple.'

'So...you're saying you think she's okay?' Jake asked hopefully.

Perisa nodded, a tear in her eye.

'Yes, yes,' she said. 'Although she may need a while to fully recover. It must have been one heck of a bad fall for her to–'

'She seems fine,' Erdwin pronounced with great satisfaction, having finished his inspection of Celly. 'Ideally, Harry should have a look at her just to make sure, but I think she'll manage, thankfully, with little more than a rest.'

As Erdwin stepped away from the bed, Perisa immediately took his place. Crouching down beside Celly, she lovingly stroked her hair, spoke to her quietly, tenderly.

'You'll be better soon, my sweet. You see.'

'I'll be fine mum,' Celly croaked hoarsely in reply.

'What happened?' Perisa asked. 'Can you remember?'

Celly weakly moved her head, looking inquisitively at first Leon then Jake.

'No, I can't remember,' she said, turning back to Perisa.

'It doesn't matter anyway,' Perisa reassured her. 'We know what happened; but I just wondered if you'd remembered any of it.'

Leon made sure that no one but Jake saw him smirk triumphantly.

*

'Sorry Jake.'

'Sorry? What do you have to apologise for? I'm the one who got you into this mess.'

'No you didn't; it was Leon.'

'Leon?' Jake stared back at Celly curiously. 'So...are you saying you really _do_ remember what happened when we fell?'

'Sure I remember; and that's why I'm sorry. I'm sorry that mum and dad think it's your fault that I'm like this, simply because I didn't tell them what really happened.'

'Celly! Why? Why didn't you tell them? But you still don't have to _apologise_ , silly! You saved my life; and risked yours doing it too.'

Celly chuckled sourly.

'Huh, I might _not_ have tried to rescue if I'd known how dangerous it was! I didn't think I'd make such a mess of it!'

Jake laughed quietly with her.

It was the first time that they'd managed to be on their own together since the accident. They held hands. They kissed now and again, when they were definitely sure that no one was around, no one was close enough to hear.

'So...' Jake began unsurely, 'if you can remember what really happened, how come you didn't make sure your mum and dad don't think I'm evil incarnate because I got you into trouble?'

'Because I'm recovering, right? And the better I get, the more they'll forget and forgive.'

'Forget and forgive me for something Leon was really responsible for, you mean? Great, just great!'

Celly laughed. She clenched his hand tightly.

'What they wouldn't have forgiven you for, Jake, is if Leon had told them he'd caught us together.'

'Hah,' Jake sighed, understanding what she meant. 'So why didn't he tell them what he'd seen?'

'Because when I first came round, when I first caught his eyes; I let him know in my glare at him that we were making a silent deal.'

'A deal? You mean _you_ wouldn't tell if _he_ didn't?'

'Huh huh,' Celly agreed.

'He's sick, you know that? He could have killed me, if you hadn't saved me.'

'He wasn't thinking straight; he's sick, but not in the way you mean.'

'Wow, if someone decides to kill someone just because they're not thinking straight, that's pretty sick in my book! I take it you mean some sort of illness, though? The way he was stumbling when you first met? What's wrong with him?'

'As I said, he's really sick. Love sickness.'

'Love sickness? You kidding me, Celly? Sure, some people can get pretty love sick – moping around, staying in bed, off their food, all that sort of thing – but that doesn't mean you're suddenly homicidal!'

'We're _dragons_ , remember? When we meet someone, you can decide in an instant that she or he's your mate for life. Think of when someone's sort of thunderstruck by love at first sight, then combine it with your idea of the soul mate you're destined to spend your whole life together with.'

'Mate for life? And you're saying that...that your _Leon's_?'

'No no,' Celly said urgently, detecting the anxiety and hurt in Jake's voice. 'But yeah; I might have been if you hadn't sort of happened along.'

'Ahhh, you make it all sound oh so _romantic_!'

'It's hard to be romantic when you're laid flat out on an aching back, struggling to breathe. You should try it yourself sometime.'

'Okay, okay; that's true. Still – you sound pretty sure of yourself. That is, if you're saying what I think you're saying; that Leon's fallen for you big time!'

'All, right I get where you're going; that I'm sounding pretty big headed, right? But look, as I said, it's different with dragons. See, whereas it was just so frustrating trying to figure out if you fancied me or not–'

'I've fancied you for _ages_ , dopey!' Jake said light-heartedly. 'Why do you think I was always calling on you?'

'Ah, so _that's_ it, is it? _That's_ how one human knows if another fancies them! And there's me, thinking you just needed someone to slaughter when playing those bloody computer games!'

'Well, that as _well_ of course. But I was hoping, you know, one of us would sort of naturally get around to saying _something_ that would let the other know it was okay to ask them out.'

'Yeah, yeah; I know. Complicated, isn't it? No one wanting to make the first move in case they get humiliated with a "no". So, instead, we just hang around, hoping we get some kind of sign that says we've both got the hots for each other, right?'

'Right; but you said "we". Did I hear that right?'

'Well, in _human_ form, I'm just as lost as any other human in trying to figure out if anyone fancies me or not. You've got so few signs to show it, you know that? But now dragons, well; wow, you can't miss it. All that glittering, that glow, coming off our skins.'

'Wait a minute; you're _always_ glistening, always glowing!'

'Think of the way your body language can give away what you're thinking, if anyone's clever enough to read it. Or the way a peacock can suddenly put on this ultra-amazing display, or a song bird sing more brilliantly than ever before.'

'So you're saying you _deliberately_ set out to attract Leon?'

'No, you didn't let me _finish_ , right? I was going to add that all of those signs are going to be misread by someone who's _looking_ for the sign they _want_ to see. And young dragons, just like any teenager, have got all these raging hormones running around wild and untamed inside them.'

Reaching out, Celly grasped Jake's hand.

'If I hadn't found you, I'd probably have fallen for Leon just as badly as he's fallen for me. All that sparkling skin; it's like an irresistible siren call to us, if we're still unattached and seeking a mate. There are stories of our less-evolved ancestors flying off towards the Northern Lights, endlessly searching for their true love.'

'Hah, of course; the treasure hoard! _That's_ why there's all those tales of dragons guarding piles of treasure!'

'Okay, but let's remember here, shall we, that I said our _less_ - _evolved_ ancestors? We've moved on a bit since then, thank you, just as you have from your banana loving ancestors.'

'And what's wrong with bananas?'

'Nothing; but that doesn't mean you'd spend your life sitting on a pile of them, does it? And while we're on these myths, I'd like to debunk this idea you humans have that some poor girl was tied to a post for a dragon to eat.'

'Hmn, so you mean they didn't bother with a post? They just used to surround her with a pile of more edible bananas?'

'If _I_ had a banana, I'd quite like to squash it in your smug face. The word damsel _used_ to mean a _child_ , not this ridiculously helpless maiden we see in all these pictures. The cries of the frightened child would draw the dragon out, as dragons will try and protect the young of _any_ species – not _eat_ them!'

'Glad to hear it; I'd hate to think we were in some sort of black-widow relationship here.'

He smiled. He lent forward, kissed her.

As they pulled apart, Celly contentedly licked her lips.

'Although, come to think of it,' she said, 'I _could_ eat _you_ up.'

'With or without the squashed banana?'

*

'Someone else is coming,' Celly said, shading her eyes from the sun's glare as she directed Jakes gaze up to a flash of ruby red in the sky.

They had taken a short walk along the beach, one of many they took each day as Celly gradually regained her strength. In front of everyone else, Celly pretended to be far weaker than she actually was, giving her an excuse to either lean on or at least stand close to Jake.

Leon would glare hatefully at them both when he saw them together like this. The others merely frowned in puzzlement now and again, as if they were trying to work out why Celly was spending so much time with Jake rather than Leon.

Was she trying to make Leon jealous?

Was she playing hard to get?

Was she still a little bit befuddled after her fall?

Would she come to her senses in a short while?

In many ways, they didn't care. Leon was far more useful in helping around the island than Jake could ever be. It was far better that Jake took on the role of Celly's nursemaid rather than someone who was so much stronger, quicker, versatile.

Jake, however, was fully aware that Leon didn't see it this way.

'You say Leon fancies you,' he said casually as he stared into the distance, trying to make out the details of the incoming dragon. 'The way he acts, though, it's more like he hates you.'

'Of course he hates me. He hates me because he loves me, yet I'm not returning that love. In many ways, you know, dragons are just like humans. When he's near me, he feels foolish, awkward; and he blames me for making him feel like that. He still thinks that we're destined to be together; that, you being human, you can't be more than some silly little fad I'm going through.'

'Ohh? And am I? Is that all I am? Some silly little fad?'

Celly grinned, secretly pleased by Jake's concern that she might not care for him as much as she did.

She grabbed his hand tightly, running her fingers through his. She pulled him closer.

She lifted her head, her mouth, towards his. She gave him a swift, reassuring kiss.

'Course not silly! But...'

'But?' Jake repeated anxiously.

Celly nodded up towards the ruby-skinned dragon that was now gracefully swooping down towards the huts scattered across the beach.

'But I'm not sure _she'll_ be too happy about it.'

'She? Who is she?' Jake asked curiously.

'Leon's mother.'

*

# Chapter 14

By the time Jake and Celly had walked across the beach towards the huts, everyone had once again gathered beneath the canopy, as they had to greet Erdwin and Leon's arrival.

The mood, however, was completely different. Whereas before it had been one of excitement, even elation, this time it was a more foreboding atmosphere that dominated the gathering.

Celly apprehensively looked to her mother for an explanation.

'Celly,' her mother said kindly, tenderly placing an arm around her shoulder and drawing her close, 'it's Harry – Dr Frobisher. He's been taken in by the police.'

'It's far worse than that!' Leon glared at Celly as if she were responsible. (Which, of course, she realised, she was.) 'They've taken the lawyers into custody too! Which means they either already know or suspect _something's_ not quite right!'

Used to the effortless grace of the dragons, Jake was shocked by Mrs Frobisher's more dishevelled appearance. She had been given some of the fresh clothes that Erdwin and Leon had brought back to the island with them, yet she still looked exhausted, beaten and out of place. Her back was hunched, her face drawn, with eyes made dark and bulbous through the anxiety she'd suffered.

She smiled wanly at Celly.

'Sorry Celly,' she said. 'Leon shouldn't be so angry with you; you weren't to know your mistake would turn out like this.'

Jake sensed that it wasn't so much an apology for her son's anger as an accusation that Celly's actions had brought disaster down on them all. Certainly, Celly looked abashed.

'I'm sorry Mrs Frobisher, Leon,' she said, glancing their way as she apologised.

Her mother gave her a sharp, reassuring hug.

'Veronica – Mrs Frobisher – will be staying with us, until things blow over.'

'Blow over?' Leon snapped. 'How's it all going to blow over? Now dad and all the lawyers are in custody, the police are bound to discover they're not human; and that's if they haven't done so already!'

'Leon! Don't speak to Mrs Volance like that.' Once again, Mrs Frobisher's supposed rebuking of her son was half-hearted and unconvincing.

'We all know he's right, Veronica,' Erdwin stated diplomatically. 'We can't allow them to be held. We have to go back. Hincheley, Mary; you can come with me and–'

'And me!' Leon insisted. 'He's _my_ father!'

'I should go too, Erdwin,' Perisa declared. 'It won't be easy getting them out – probably impossible, actually. As dragons, yes; that would be relatively easy. But revealing ourselves like that would go against the whole point of rescuing them, wouldn't it?'

'I think it might already be too late to worry about revealing ourselves, Perisa,' Mrs Frobisher said miserably. 'Harry was taken in a few days ago, not long after Leon left with Erdwin. The lawyers were trying everything they could to get him out, but when one of them rang to warn me that they were being taken in too – and under a heavily armed guard, too – I think it was quite obvious that I'd be next. I didn't want to endanger anyone else by moving in with them, so I flew out here.'

'Even if we can't get Harry and the others out, we need to at least start warning everyone else that they might have to flee now that–'

'Flee?' Leon irately interrupted Erdwin. 'Why flee, when we could easily defeat any humans that came for us?'

'And spread the sense of terror the humans will already be understandably feeling? It would lead to war, destruction, with God knows how many killed on either side.'

'But what will we do, Erdwin?' Mrs Frobisher asked deceptively calmly. 'How are the humans going to take it when they find we've been living amongst them? Monsters; isn't that how they'll see us? _Dangerous_ monsters, made more dangerous than ever because we can blend unnoticed amongst them.'

'I'd hope that the fact we've lived amongst them unnoticed for so long demonstrates that they have nothing to fear from us.'

'But will _they_ mean _us_ no harm when they discover us?' Leon demanded.

'I'll come back too,' Celly said. 'It's not right that I stay here when I'm the one respons–'

'You're too weak, Celly,' her mother pointed out. 'Now Veronica's here, she can help you; she's picked up an awful lot of medical knowledge in her time with Harry.'

'I should go back with you too–'

'No, Veronica; you're too tired to travel back just yet,' Erdwin said. 'Besides, as Perisa says, you'd be of more use here, helping Celly recover. She had a bad fall; Perisa will explain everything as we get together all the things we think we're going to need.'

'What about _him_?' Leon indicated Jake with a sharp, angry nod of his head. 'We can't leave a _human_ here with mum and Celly!'

'Jake's fine! He won't hurt us!' Celly said quickly.

'Hmn, as if he could,' Veronica sneered dismissively.

'We could take him back,' Perisa pointed out. 'If everyone's about to find out about us anyway, then–'

'And let him give away everything he knows about this island?'

Leon glared hatefully at Jake.

'I don't want to go back,' Jake retorted. He glanced Celly's way, swapped a swift smile with her. 'I'm fine here.'

'That's decided then,' Erdwin said, turning and indicating to the others that they needed to start preparing to leave. 'Jake stays.'

Jake could see from Leon's frustrated grimace and the hate in his eyes that that hadn't been the result he'd been looking for.

What _had_ he wanted?

Had he wanted Jake to be killed?

*

# Chapter 15

Celly and Jake had hoped that Leon's departure would mean they would no longer have to suffer the uneasy feeling that they were being constantly followed and watched by baleful eyes.

Leon's mother, however, more than adequately took her son's place in this regard. She made plain that she resented their closeness, not only reproachfully glaring at them whenever they returned together from the beach, but also taking out her irritation on whatever it was she happened to be holding or close to at the time, loudly banging or clattering wooden plates, pots, or chairs.

And the happier Jake and Celly were, the angrier she would be.

The more they laughed, the louder the furious clattering.

Still, Celly was recovering quickly under Mrs Frobisher's more expert care.

This consisted of frequent, firm massages while Celly was in both her transformed and untransformed states. Her back, in particular, was firmly kneaded regularly, but Mrs Frobisher also squeezed and rubbed her chest, stomach, neck and sides. Now and again, she would also aggressively bend and twist Celly's limbs in frog-like moves, though Jake began to suspect that this was more punishment than treatment.

At last, though, Celly began to sense that strength and capability was returning to her lungs. She could once again break the air down into its separate elements, once again force those separated constitutes into every extended area of her body, controlling the pressure, altering her skin's consistency, her muscles' power or mass.

'So...' Jake began tentatively one day, as they lay alongside each other on the sand by the water's edge, 'all this splitting up of the air; would I be right in assuming that that's how dragons used to produce flame? Providing, of course, that it isn't just a myth that they could breathe fire.'

'It's true, yes; and yes, it was through using the separated elements. They'd just force it out through their mouths rather than around their body.'

'Then you could do that?' Jake said in amazement. 'Breathe fire?'

'Like you could just start leaping around in the trees using your feet and your tail to cling onto the branches, right? We _have_ evolved, remember? So, no, we can't produce the chemicals that would have ignited the gases.'

Jake lightly and playfully ran a single finger along Celly's bared stomach. She shivered, giggled.

'That tickles!'

'So...' Jake said, frowning thoughtfully, 'what else is different from you and those old dragons in the legends? Eggs; do you lay eggs?'

'Eggs?' Celly chuckled uneasily. 'That _would_ be disgusting, wouldn't it, don't you think?'

'Hmn, yeah, I suppose it would.'

'How do you think I could lay an _egg_?' Celly sounded a little annoyed.

'Well, I read once, I think, that a dragon's egg might be quite small. It would grow in a pouch; you know, a bit like a kangaroo's pouch.'

'What? Now you're saying I might have a _kangaroo's_ pouch?'

She gave him a light-hearted jab with an elbow.

Jake chuckled, lightly running his finger over her smooth stomach once more.

'It wouldn't be really possible now anyway, I suppose. Not with you being more human than dragon.'

Celly turned slightly to look more directly into his eyes as she asked, expectantly, 'Is that how you think of me, Jake? As more human than dragon?'

'Yes; yes, of course I do' he replied honestly. 'When you're like this, well, you're _perfectly_ human.'

'Perfectly? Am...am I beautiful, Jake?'

'Beautiful?'

He bent his head down towards hers, brought his lips to hers.

He kissed her delicately, softly.

He let the contours of his lips mould with hers.

And she knew his answer.

*

When he touched her like this, his fingers, his hands, running everywhere about her body – where her body rose, where it fell, where one set of her curves merged into others – she realised, strangely, her own beauty, her own shape.

She only became fully aware of her back, of its many arcs and angles, its depressions and its rising, when he caressed her like this. She had only ever seen it, twisted and ungainly, when she tried to see it in a mirror. Now, although she couldn't see it, she knew its every curve. His touch made her skin tingle, made her gasp with pleasure, as if she herself were the one doing the feeling, the sensing, as if her skin, her body, at last appreciated her attention, her interest.

Her neck, too, under his touch, his kisses, even, yes, his heated breath, became an area of uncountable excitable explosions of delight, each one more pronounced than the first, building and building, until she thought she could take no more – but she could, oh yes, she could take more and more.

Her waist, her hips, her thighs; before, they had only ever been relatively unimportant parts of her body, regarded by her as being more or less shapeless, neither wonderful nor awful. Now, under Jake's flowing touch, she appreciated what he was appreciating, the way they merged together, seamlessly rolled one into the other. The smooth indent of the waist, rising into the arc of the hip, streaming into the less pronounced yet firmer curves of her thigh.

Her own touch too, of course, made her realise and appreciate things about his body she hadn't noticed before. The way it was soft here, harder there, where a muscle or even the edges of bone lay not far beneath the surface. There was also heat when she ran her fingers over here, coolness when they drifted this way, more changes when her touch became firmer, more probing.

And, of course, it was all so much more than mere touch and being touched. There was the amazing sight of seeing your loved one trembling beneath your hands, even beneath the longing gaze itself. There was the taste, the scents, the slight hints of milk, apple, depending on where your let your mouth, your tongue, roam. Then there was the sighs of pleasure, the quivering pleas for more.

How could knowing so much more of Jake make her so much more aware of herself?

Why was it that she felt, at last, as if she truly belonged in the world, as opposed to always feeling separated, distanced, different, from it?

How was it possible to sense the delight he felt in her, to delight in herself, in her own beauty, in this way?

Why was it so incredibly pleasing to her, because she knew it was so pleasing to him?

Everything she had read had described all this as a discovery, as an exploration – but no, it was far far more than that. It was a knowing, an acceptance that rather than being separate, you were now one and the same, merging one into the other, no longer sure where one began and the other ended, his touch somehow indistinguishable from the way she sensed that touch, somehow becoming _her_ touch, making her alive to her own form, her own being. And as she sensed his form, his beauty, she felt she was a part of it, that it was also a part of her, at last, finally, completing her own being.

Suddenly, Jake pulled back.

He stared up into the sky.

'They're back,' he said, screwing up his eyes tightly as he tried to focus on a grouping of bright flashes of silver.

'No, it's not them,' Celly said, following his gaze. 'They're helicopters; and they're heading here.'

*

# Chapter 16

They ran along the beach towards the straggle of huts.

'Mrs Frobisher, Mrs Frobisher!'

The thunderous, pounding rumble of the oncoming helicopters drowned out their cries.

Of course, Mrs Frobisher had already seen and heard the helicopters. She was calmly walking across the sand, as if she were stepping out to greet the arrival of Erdwin and Perisa.

The helicopters came in fast, the smaller ones, mosquito-like in their angry shape, refusing to land but, rather, swooping around the water's edge in great circles.

The largest slowed, angled, drifted down in a flurry of wind, sand and spray.

Even before it touched down, the side doors were thrown open. A soldier leapt out onto the sand, dropping immediately into a crouch.

As soon as she saw him prepare to aim and fire his handheld missile launcher, Mrs Frobisher began to transform.

The ruby skin flashed in the sunlight.

The missile flashed on its way.

Mrs Frobisher flashed in a burst of scarlet flame.

The ruby wings crumpled, the flames lighting up the skin in an angry, magically-glistening blaze.

*

1 year later

# Chapter 17

It was last year's computer game.

And it wasn't even the best game from that year either. That had been the game he had been playing with Celly the day they had fled to the island.

He couldn't play that game anymore.

He couldn't even look at the cover.

He had most of the very latest games. The best games. The most highly rated.

Yet, just like last year's best game, he couldn't play them.

Not because he wasn't good at them

But because, like _that_ game, they reminded him too much of things he didn't want to be reminded of.

In fact, the latest games were even worse. They both reminded him, yet also sickened him.

Sickened him because of the perverted view of dragons they portrayed.

Dragons that lived hidden amongst us, unrecognised for what they really are.

Even the most innocent looking neighbour could be a veiled killer. Someone who, when you were least expecting it, could sever you in two with the simple slash of an abruptly extended talon.

You could be in the mall. At the bus stop. Even just taking a walk in the park.

Death was waiting for you no matter where you were. Death in the form of what appeared to be a fellow human. Even a child.

And if the dragonsapien – the name they'd been given, just as evolved, intelligent man was homo-sapien – fully transformed into the winged beast lying beneath that deceptively benign exterior, then you and everyone around you were _really_ in trouble.

The dragonsapien moved swiftly. Acted instinctively. Cruelly.

A beat of its wings could shatter every bone in your body. A wrench of its arm could dismember or decapitate you. Even a rock-hard finger, aimed directly at your forehead or around your heart, could kill you.

Like the films, the books, and the TV series that had been spawned from the discovery of the dragonsapiens, the game played loosely with the truth.

Who would guess from the ghoulish descriptions of the murderous actions of the dragonsapiens that they had, for the most part, gone off peacefully to live in Hong Kong, an enclave especially set aside for them to create their own, separate community?

The only cases Jake had heard of where their removal from society hadn't been peaceful was when the watching crowds, unable to control their fear and disgust, had attacked the families being herded into the waiting buses or trains. For a brief moment there would be mayhem until the well-armed troops quickly and ruthlessly moved in.

Many of the worst scenes of lynch-mob violence had involved wealthy people falsely accused of being dragons by those hoping to loot a vacated house, steal a car, or take over a business.

And the dragons' reward for allowing themselves to be peaceably stripped of their belongings and removed from their homes?

To be portrayed in all the media as fearsome, irredeemably violent creatures.

Should Jake put things straight?

Should he use his experience of actually living amongst a family of dragons to show what they were really like?

Should he write a book, as his avaricious parents had continually urged him to do?

He had tried, unsuccessfully, a number of times to transfer the confused memories whirling around inside his head to a word processor.

Publishers had offered him the aid of ghost writers to tell his tale. Yet as soon as he began to even talk about his experiences, it all felt too personal for him, like he was revealing more than he wanted to about himself, about Celly. Besides, even when he managed to avoid revealing the more personal elements, he found that the ghost writers were already twisting what he had to say, bending the reality until it conformed to 'more interesting structures', or literary theories of 'character arcs' and 'narrative peaks'.

Did Napoleon undergo a 'character arc'? Did he, towards the end of his life, mumble something along the lines of, 'Well whaddya know, I was wrong all along'? Did he–

A massive, deafening on-screen explosion shook Jake out of his meandering thoughts.

Damn! I've just been wiped out!

He jumped as another, louder explosion made the whole room shake. Another immediately followed, Jake ducking instinctively behind his chair as the apartment's outside wall disintegrated in a burst of stone, brick, timber and furnishings.

What the?

He whirled around, peering through the rolling clouds of dust, the rain of smaller, lighter particles that still had to fall to the floor.

Where a large window had been, there was now an immense, roughly hewn hole.

And standing in its very centre, studiously observing the room, was the gloriously glowing figure of an amber-skinned dragon.

*

# Chapter 18

The dragon's eyes locked on Jake's.

He grinned triumphantly.

With a deftly controlled flick of his wings, he swooped across the room towards the cowering Jake – then abruptly jerked backwards in an explosion of orange flame.

Jake spin around again, this time looking back towards the door. At some point it had been blasted off its hinges, and a heavily armoured soldier was now crouching in its frame, the smoking residue of a launched missile still rising from his levelled gun.

It was as if he were back on the island once more, bathed in the glow of the fire that only a moment before had been Mrs Frobisher, shielding Celly from the oncoming soldiers, wrapping himself tightly around her as he begged her not to change, to remain human, pleading to the soldiers not to attack her, that she was injured, that she wasn't a danger to them.

Rising from his crouch, the soldier loped across the room, followed by another, equally well armed and armoured soldier. As they took up positions by the hole in the outside wall, as if guarding it from any further attack, a third solider entered behind them.

'It's me kid,' the third solider growled confidently. 'Here to rescue you again!'

*

Jake had held onto Celly as tightly as he could, hoping, bizarrely, that his enwrapping arms would somehow prevent her wings from unfurling, prevent her from transforming.

'They'll kill you Celly, they'll kill you!' he whispered urgently. 'There's too many of them!'

He felt her struggle in his arms. But she wasn't fighting him, he realised; she was at war with herself, one part instinctively seeking vengeance for the murder of Mrs Frobisher, another listening to Jake's heartfelt pleading, trying to quickly work out if taking his advice was the more sensible course.

He sensed the easing of her body, the resignation. She remained in her human form. Whether that was because she was worried that he might be harmed if she changed, or because she recognised that Jake was right and knew she stood no chance, he wasn't sure.

The main thing was, it gave Jake time to plead for her life.

'We won't hurt you!' he screamed nervously at the soldiers edgily, warily surrounding them, their guns constantly aimed at Celly's head. 'We surrender!'

'We know _you_ won't hurt us, kid,' a soldier assuredly striding towards them declared with a hash growl. 'We're here to rescue you. As for the girl; she'd better come quietly – or else.'

*

Lieutenant Rodgers; the soldier had introduced himself as soon as they had boarded the helicopter that would take Jake off the island.

Celly wasn't with them. She had been escorted to another helicopter, the guns of the surrounding soldiers still unerringly aimed at her head.

He had never seen her again.

Never heard from her.

The Volances, Lieutenant Rodgers had informed him, had been captured. A boy amongst their party had told them where Jake was being held.

'You've got to come with us!' Lieutenant Rodgers said now, helping Jake up off the rubble strewn floor. 'The dragons are out to get you!'

As if to confirm the Lieutenant's claim, a scream alerted them to a rapidly moving sparkle of gemstones at the hole in the wall as one of the soldiers was snatched at and carried away by a swooping dragon. The other soldier turned, fired.

Jake couldn't see the resulting explosion, which took place out of his view, but the screams stopped. With a rhythmic booming and the clatter of nearby windows, a military helicopter hurtled past, the bright flash of pursuing dragons closely following it. Sweeping in beneath the chattering rotors, they latched onto its sides, wrenching the gunner and his large machine gun out through the open doors, tearing holes in the metal.

Jake ran for the door, Lieutenant Rodgers just on his heels, the soldier backing away from the holed wall covering their retreat. Jake heard the soldier fire, the boom of an explosion outside the apartment. Then they were outside in the hall, Lieutenant Rodgers directing him towards the stairwell.

'The lifts are too dangerous; they might cut off the power!'

'What's going on?' Jake demand as they hurtled down the steps, skidding sharply around the tightly angled corners. 'Why are the dragons after me?'

'Not sure kid; maybe they intercepted our messages that we were going to pick you up.'

'Pick me up? What for? I've told you everything I know!'

Just after Jake had been lifted off the island, even while he was still on the helicopter, he'd been probed by Lieutenant Rodgers for any information he could give them on the dragons. Jake had been reticent about revealing everything he knew, however, feeling it was a betrayal of Celly. Even so, the interviews and interrogations over the next few days – along with the insistent urging from his parents that he should help the authorities 'ensure everyone is safe'– had gradually wheedled more and more out of him until he felt there was little more for him to add.

'Yeah, that's right; and according to you kid, your girlfriend was going to be no bother at all for us, right?'

'Celly? What's wrong with her? What's happened?'

'What's wrong with her? Kid, she's the one _leading_ this rebellion!'

*

# Chapter 19

Jake sunk back, exhausted, into the soft leather of the executive-jet's plush seat.

Lieutenant Rodgers told him he might as well have a sleep; it was a long trip to China, even travelling at the incredible speeds the jet could reach.

They had been transferred to the jet by the helicopter that, gingerly landing on a large stretch of lawn just outside the apartment block, had picked them up as smaller helicopters whirled around them, defending the area. A number of helicopters had already been brought down, their burning or mangled wreckage jutting out from the buildings they'd crashed into, or littering the streets or rooftops.

'We're lucky,' Lieutenant Rodgers had breathed with relief as they'd hurriedly boarded. 'It was just a small group sent to get you. They probably weren't expecting us to move so quickly, or with such force. We surprised them.'

Jake hadn't seen how many dragons had been involved in the attack. But he did see one final attack on the fleeing helicopters by a lone dragon who, whirling freely amongst them, avoided the guns aimed at him with ease, the bullets instead churning up other helicopters, even the glass fronted offices of nearby tower blocks. He brought down a helicopter with a burst of flame that erupted as a blazing jet from his mouth (so, Celly had lied about that!), only to swoop upwards into the whirring blades of another helicopter that scattered him across the sky like a shower of iridescent gems.

'You need to tell me what's going on,' Jake insisted vehemently, rising from the comforting embrace of the leather seat to prevent himself from succumbing to his shocked weariness.

'The Drags – the dragons – have broken out of Hong Kong.'

'Broken out? We're always being told how incredibly happy they are living there. Besides, I thought they were surrounded by half the Chinese army; just to reassure people they were safe.' He spat out the last part sarcastically.

'More like two thirds, plus an international force of more or less equal numbers. The Drags made mincemeat of them.'

'When?' Jake was incredulous. 'I haven't read anything about this in the papers or seen it on the news!'

'You think we're going to promote this? All our efforts are involved in containing it; but it's going to break soon enough, no doubt about it.'

'That attack back there around my apartment is hardly going to help.'

'That regular terrorist attack, you mean? Sure, that will sound terrifying enough; but how do you think they'd take it if they knew Drags were involved?'

'What, with helicopters strewn all over the place? There's no way you can keep all that covered up.'

'Didn't you just say you didn't know that half of China's fallen, along with Korea and most of Japan? If we can cover that up, a little spat in the west end isn't going to be much of a problem.'

'Wow!' Jake couldn't hide the fact that he was impressed. 'But you're holding them back now, right?'

'You've seen them up close kid. These guys are not only like your worst alien nightmare, but they can blend amongst us as the perfect spies. They can use our own weapons against us too, patch into our communications, disable our computers. They're the perfect enemy, Jake, in the same way you can have a perfect storm.'

'All that's long hand for you're not holding them, right?'

Rodgers nodded.

'You ask me, it seems we're licked, kid. That's why I got permission to bring you in.'

'Me?' Jake gave a bitter laugh. 'What, you want me to wave the white flag for you?'

'The flag of _parley_ , kid; we need you to talk to your girlfriend.'

*

# Chapter 20

Even though it was now night time and dark outside, Jake didn't need to be told when they had reached the edges of China.

They had been joined just over an hour ago by a fighter jet escort. Jack had heard their arrival and greetings over the radio, seen their bright, blinking lights and the pilots dimly illuminated in their cockpits as they had gracefully swung alongside the passenger jet and taken up their positions. Now they were passing over a darkened landscape that was increasingly lit up now and again with the scarlet flash of an explosion, the blaze of unrecognised buildings, or briefly illuminated over a vast distance as something flared brightly in the sky overhead.

The cauldrons of hell, Jake thought, wondering what suffering was going on down there.

And Celly was responsible for all this? It didn't seem possible.

It didn't seem _necessary_ , either. He had watched, on one of the plane's state-of-the-art monitors, scenes of life in Hong Kong before the revolt. Much of what he saw he had seen before, in films, in documentaries. But he had also been shown the private interviews that had taken place with psychiatrists and doctors tasked with assessing each individual dragon's mental state before they were allowed into Hong Kong, the dragon seated in a comfortable, ultra-modern high backed chair, the interview panel kind, courteous and considerate.

There were also numerous facts and figures of the supplies that were daily bussed into the city and its environs, trainload after trainload of food, medicines, clothes and whatever other items a modern civilised life demanded. It all took place under the eyes of the Red Cross and UN too, so it seemed odd when it switched to shots of dragons complaining that all this was 'inadequate'.

'Inadequate?' a UN President stormed. 'Could that be anything to do, I wonder, with their have becoming used to their previous, privileged lives, and their lack of understanding of how must humans would consider their present lives the height of luxury?'

'How are you going to arrange this meeting?' Jake asked Rodgers who, making the most of his luxurious surroundings, was lounging back in his seat as he sipped a large whisky.

'As I said earlier, they've patched into our communications and cracked most of our codes; we've let them know you're wanting to meet her.'

'What if she doesn't want to meet me? It was over a year ago. Just a teenage fling.' Jake managed to hide his bitterness.

'They just tried to snatch you back there, didn't they? She must still hold a candle for you, kid.'

'Really? It seemed to me they were more likely out to try and turn me _into_ a candle!'

Rodgers shook his head, took another slow, thoughtful drink of his whisky before saying, 'If they wanted to kill you, there wouldn't have been much we could have done to stop it.'

He said it with a sense of admiration for his enemies' capabilities.

'I reckon,' he continued, 'they thought they were doing you a favour. I reckon your girlfriend was worried we were going to use you as a hostage, a bargaining chip.'

'A hostage? Why would Celly think that? Why would she care?'

'Because she knows we're losing, knows we're desperate. She knew we were coming after you, but at the time she didn't know why. Now she does. She'll–'

One of the fighter pilots screamed a garbled, static-mangled warning across the intercom connection.

'Incoming bogeys, directly...gorilla...sandwiched–'

The message broke off as abruptly as it had interrupted them.

Jake peered out of the window, scanned the sky.

One of the fighter planes was angling and dropping away, flame licking across its wings, enveloping or emanating from one of its engines. With a lightning-like crack and sunburst of yellow light, it vanished, becoming nothing more than falling, glinting slivers of metal caught in the lights of the fighter that had been rushing to its rescue.

The executive jet rocked and jolted as the force of the explosion hit it side on.

'How can they bring down a jet?' Jake yelled fearfully at Rodgers. 'How can they keep up with it?'

'They've captured weapons off our own troops. They've even got a couple of submarines out at sea; armed with nukes too.'

The directions from the pilots coming over on the intercom rapidly went from urgent to panicked.

'Bogey dope...closing...I can't see them... down, down, I'm down!...no joy... faded...no joy!'

Rodgers listened intensely, apprehensively.

'They can't lock onto their targets. It's just Drags out there,' he said. 'Bet you those missile aren't hitting anything,' he added, drawing Jake's attention to the odd crump of a far off explosion.

'Tumbleweed...threat...split...Christmas tree!'

With a thunderous 'whoommphh!' another fighter was transformed into a whirling ball of flame, vanishing into the darkness as it fell away. There was a sudden burst of light off to the other side of their jet as one of the fighters turned on a number of lights.

In the light, Jake caught the flash, the sparkle, of precious gems, passing at what appeared to be unimaginable speed above and below the fighter. The plane's engines instantaneously erupted into flame. A few seconds later, it exploded, a rolling fire that ever so briefly swirled in the night sky.

The intercom went dead.

'Damn! The other fighter boy must be down too!' Rodgers snarled worriedly, his face creased with fear.

A ridiculously swift blur of glistening gemstones swept past the windows on either side. It was instantly followed by hard, metallic clunks and scraping on the hull and wings as the lozenges of steel netting clashed against the windows.

There was a loud whirring, a clanking, a screaming from one of the engines as it sucked in the netting, churning it around in its own innards until everything was ripped apart. It exploded into flame with a jolting, ear-bursting bang that drowned out the pained screeching of the other wing's engine as it, too, greedily devoured the netting.

When the second engine burst into flame, it lit the passenger compartment up with a flowing, scarlet glow.

Rodgers turned towards Jake, a surprisingly apologetic look on his face.

'Sorry kid,' he said, 'it doesn't look like your girlfriend wants to talk after all.'

*

# Chapter 21

As the plane began to rapidly lose height, parachutes were handed round, quickly strapped on. As they waited for the plane to reach a level where the pressure would allow the emergency door to be opened safely, they once again heard metallic clunks and tearing against the side of the hull, glimpsed once again flashes of glittering jewels at the widows; but nothing further happened. They all breathed a sigh of relief, waiting for the signal to jettison the door.

At last, the door's handle was urgently wrenched up, the door kicked out into the black wind hurtling past them. One of Rodgers' men stepped towards the door – and was instantly propelled out into the darkness with a terrified yell, his parachute ripped to shreds in an instant in a flurry of sharply glistening blades.

A dragon's hand swung through the door into the cabin, the long talons sickeningly penetrating the next man in the queue. The dying man fell back, the dragon using him as leverage to pull himself more fully into the cabin. In his other hand, the dragon held a powerful machine pistol. The gun barked quickly in succession, Rodgers and two of his other men taking horrendously mutilating hits that sent them flying back across the leather seats.

Rodger's last remaining man and the cabin crew drew their own guns, firing at the dragon. The bullets mainly struck some form of thick armour the dragon's body was encased in, but even those that struck skin seemed to have as little effect as if they'd hit a surface crusted with diamonds.

The dragon fired again, while finishing off the nearest man with a deft, deadly slash of his already bloodied talons.

Cowering behind the seat where he'd instinctively thrown himself, a terrified Jake covered his head, waiting for the shot or swipe of a talon that would kill him.

The dragon drew towards him, reached down. He effortlessly picked Jake up by sinking his talons deep within the parachute pack. It swung around, stepped back towards the door and, swinging his arm forward and up, briefly held Jake outside in the violently pounding streams of air.

Through watery eyes, Jake saw at least two other dragons clamped to the side of the hull, their talons embedded within the metal.

That's what the metallic clunks they'd heard had been; the dragons latching onto the side of the hull, waiting for the moment when the emergency door was opened. These other two were obviously a backup, in case the first had been unsuccessful in his task.

The dragon leapt out into the whirling darkness, taking the firmly held Jake with him. Jake's stomach lurched frighteningly. His skin, his body, juddered under the relentless pressure of the brutally throbbing wind.

And, suddenly, he was aimlessly suspended in the blackness, the jet plummeting to earth in flames behind him.

*

# Chapter 22

Jake was shivering uncontrollably, both from the intense cold of the night sky and the fear of being dropped from a height that he had no chance of surviving. Worse, the straps of his tattered parachute pack kept on slipping as their holdings continued to tear and shred. Every now and again, he would suffer a violently lurch downward, as if at last about to hurtle earthwards.

The earth below didn't look real. It looked like a final scene from one of his end-of-world computer games. It was endless, yet looked the same no matter the direction in which he looked. The ground was black, an impenetrable coal black but for the fires that seemed to remorselessly feed off that darkness like unquenchable coal fires, or the sudden, bright glare of explosions in the sky above, like fireballs erupting from the volcanoes of a primordial landscape.

This was no game, however, as evidenced by the increasing examples of destroyed human life and endeavour as they at last began to descend. At first, it was the mangled wreckage of toppled skyscrapers, then the burnt out husks of trains, trucks and cars. Finally, there came the warped liquorice sticks of cooked bodies, the soured cream of bared skeletons.

No, no, Celly really _couldn't_ be responsible for this.

No, not _his_ Celly.

It must all be a mistake, a lie.

With an unclasping of its talons, the dragon let Jake fall the final foot or two towards the rubble strewn floor. He landed painfully, striking then sliding across sharp-edged stone and brick.

He landed almost at the feet of another dragon, a dragon with its legs casually and confidently splayed, its wings spread out fully as if serving as a demonstration of its power, its undeniable superiority.

Even though the only light came from distant fires, its skin shimmered with the translucent sparkle of emeralds.

Slowly, agonisingly, Jake raised his head.

'Hello Jake,' Leon said.

*

# Chapter 23

Suddenly, Jake was roughly hauled up off the ground from behind.

One of the dragons began to swiftly search him, ripping apart his clothes here and there with the deft slash of a talon if it seemed necessary.

The dragon seem to think it was necessary far more than Jake did.

'I haven't got any weapons.'

The searching dragon ignored him.

Leon ignored him.

'So, they sent _you_ to try and make peace?' he sneered.

Jake bristled. He held himself back from saying anything about Leon's betrayal that had led to the death of his own mother.

'I thought dragons were peaceful,' he said instead. 'Celly told me you'd never fought in any of our wars; you'd always had the influence and wealth to remain out of it without it looking too obvious.'

'He's clear; there are no tracking devices.'

The dragon who had been searching him stepped back and away. Leon nodded towards a dragon who had landed nearby as Jake had been searched.

'Clear,' the third dragon said, speaking into a small microphone strapped to a pair of headphones.

'Could you imagine what your wars would have been like if we _had_ got involved?' Leon asked Jake proudly. 'But we were simply staying out of them for more selfish reasons; how could we remain hidden amongst you when any wound would have revealed our differences?'

'So that's it? Dragons aren't morally superior to us after all?'

_'Morally_ , we are now equal, I grant you that. But in every _other_ way, we are _clearly_ superior!'

With an elaborate wave of his arms, he indicated the surrounding chaos.

'But I don't understand,' Jake admitted. 'You accepted, once discovered, that the humans would be terrified of you. There wasn't even the slightest protest when you were asked to set up a separate life in Hong Kong–'

'Life? Is that what you call it? Life!'

'Obviously, you'd had to leave behind so much, it was never going to be exactly the same–'

'Have you absolutely _no_ idea what it was like for us in Hong Kong?'

'I saw the films, the documentaries–'

'I can't believe this! You're sent here to make peace, but no one's bothered, even now, to tell you the _truth_ about Hong Kong?'

'Truth? You were happy there, we were told.'

'Our backs were strapped in cages, to stop us from transforming!'

'What? That can't be right; otherwise you'd still be there, not here flying around.'

'My father and the Volances were the ones who worked out how to unlock the cages without the inspection patrols noticing. We had to wait, of course, until everyone had been unlocked. By that time, my father and Celly's parents were dead.'

'Erdwin and Perisa?' Jake was horrified. 'And your father, Dr Frobisher too. I'm sorry, I didn't know.'

It seemed a strange thing to say, with so many dead lying about them. But Jake was genuinely shocked by the news of the death of Celly's parents. He had known them, liked them, enjoyed visiting and staying in their apartment. He had often wished that his own parents could have been a little bit more like the Volances.

'It seems there's an awful lot you don't know. Hardly ideal for peace negotiation, is it, not being fully aware of why your enemy is fighting you?'

'I didn't have time to be fully briefed, remember?' Jake snapped back. 'Someone snatched me from a plane!'

'We didn't want to give them time or the chance to follow you. We don't trust them.'

'Surely you've got to trust them if you're wanting to make peace.'

_'We_ don't want to make peace; _you_ do. You haven't asked how my father, or the Volances, died.'

Jake abruptly felt cold with shame. Leon was right. He should have been more thoughtful, more concerned.

'I'm sorry; how did they die?'

'They starved. Even as they worked on unlocking the cages, they were dying of starvation.'

'There wasn't enough food? But we were told–'

'You were told _lies_! There wasn't enough to keep us all alive! They wanted us to squabble, to fight one another, over food–'

'They're nearly here.'

The dragon with the headphones pointed off into the darkness. Jake followed his gaze, peering into the night.

At first, he saw nothing more than the bright glint of an opal, the fiery flash of a ruby, a wide distance apart and seemingly hovering in the black sky. Then, in between, and possibly farther back, he caught flares of gold, glistening streaks of silver.

Soon, the airborne jewels had become sparkling clusters, had become beating wings and muscular torsos. The dragons slipped either side of him, dropping downwards considerably yet remaining in the air, the wings twisting slightly in their heavy, rhythmic flexing so that the bodies were rigidly upright, sentry-like.

The miniature suns, the sparkling stars, were coalescing too, becoming ridiculously expansive wings, a relatively smaller body supported beneath, a head from which streamed hair that flowed and rippled as if it were mercury.

Celly flexed her wings, moving into a more upright position, retaining lift with powerful yet deceptively effortless strokes, then began to languidly drop down towards Jake.

Like the other dragons, her body was partially armoured, and she carried an automatic rifle. She also seemed dusty, even, perhaps, bloodied. Even so, she transformed what little light there was into a golden aura, descending Jake's way like an angelic Joan of Arc, a victorious St Michael.

She was beautiful.

Magnificent.

Oh how he loved her.

*

Even as she landed directly in front of him, Celly could see that Jake was still the innocent child that he had been while living on the island.

How much had she changed over the last year? She was no longer the same person, the girl that had fallen in love with Jake, regarding it all as some great adventure, the beginnings of a new, better more exciting period in her life.

He looked dishevelled, his clothes shredded so that they hung off him like rags. He stared at her, wide-eyed, like he was frightened, unsure what was going to happen next.

Well, let him worry.

Let him fear her.

'Celly.' He almost stammered her name in his nervousness. 'Celly, Leon told me about your mum and dad; I'm sorry, really sorry. I...I don't know what to say.'

'You don't?' She was deliberately hard, unforgiving. 'Do you think anything you'd say would make it any easier?'

'Well, no, of course not. That's what I meant when–'

'You're not here to talk about the death of my mum and dad. You're here to talk peace, yes?'

She was pleased when Leon and the other dragons chuckled. Like her, they found it amusing that the humans saw a pathetic child like Jake as their only hope for salvation.

'Yes; if there was anything I learned about dragons from you and your parents, Celly, it was that you were peaceful and didn't want to hurt humans–'

'Peaceful?' Celly laughed. She glanced about her, observing the surrounding chaos, the fires burning in the night. 'I doubt anyone would agree with you that dragons are peaceful, Jake. And the thing is, I learned it all from you, Jake.'

'Me?'

'Those computer games you always insisted I play? I learned the effectiveness of your ruthlessness, your swift actions, without a care if it was the right action or not, your focus only being on achieving your goal, no matter the cost, the sacrifices.'

'It was a _game_ , Celly!'

'For you, maybe. For me, now, it's a strategy. A successful one, too.'

'I don't think you really want to wipe out the whole of humanity, Celly. You've proved your point, that we have to accept you back into society–'

'That's it? _That's_ what you think we're fighting for? How can you come here asking for peace when you have no idea why we're fighting?'

'But if that's not your aim, for everything to return to how it was – then what do you want, Celly?'

'You hit upon it yourself, only a moment ago Jake.'

'I did?'

'You said I wouldn't want to wipe out the whole of humanity. To which my reply would be, "Wouldn't I?"'

*

# Chapter 24

Celly's stare was unflinching, hard, aggressive.

Her lips were clamped together, a thin strip of red flesh like an unhealed wound.

Her armour _was_ flaked with blood. Whether her own or that of her victims, Jake couldn't tell.

There was a sternness, a determination, to her expression that Jake had never seen before. Yes, he believed she could continue this war until either man or the dragons were no more.

Her golden skin reflected the fluttering glow of the distant flames, such that it glistened like smelting metal, swirling with curls of silver, the angry red of the furnace. Her wings could have been made of flame, the way they appeared to flicker and move, rise and fall.

He had been wrapped, many tines, within the comforting embrace of those wings. Sometimes, with that cocoon, it had been cool, sometimes heated, a hot house of growing love, flowering longing.

He had kissed that body. Tasted it. Touched it.

Sensed it, in every way he could.

Everywhere.

Made it, as far as possible, a part of him. Moulded himself alongside it, his curves, his arcs, fitting perfectly against hers, as if it were all preordained, as if they had been made for each other.

He had shared in its beauty, its shape. Its softness. Its malleability. And, in places, its hardness, where a muscle tightened, or a bone just beneath the surface whitened the skin, tautened it.

He would press lightly on all these area, wondering at the similarities, the differences, the differences, too, that lay just below the surface. The differences that, strangely, brought them together, each wanting to share and understand more of the other.

Then her skin had glittered like a river bed of gold, silver and jewels. It still shone, but now it was the red-gold of fire, of blood, of war.

'Celly, I can't believe that you think the whole human race needs wiping out because of what happened to your–'

'Stop! Don't make a fool of yourself any more, Jake! You know _nothing_ of–'

'Incoming!' the dragon wearing the headphones suddenly screamed. 'Incoming missiles!'

'I told you we couldn't trust him!' Leon growled as he soared into the air.

Celly glared at Jake every bit as hatefully as Leon did.

'I didn't know, honestly!'

'There's so much you don't know, isn't there Jake?' Celly sneered. 'Bring him!' she snapped commandingly at the dragon nearest to him as she began to rise off the ground.

Even as the dragon grabbed him firmly around the waist and rose into the air after Celly and the other dragoons, Leon protested that it was stupid to bring him along.

'They've obviously implanted a tracker; that's how they found us.'

'You know why we need him,' Celly retorted dismissively.

*

'We could start ripping him apart; find out where they implanted it,' the dragon holding Jake calmly suggested.

'No one implanted anything!' Jake insisted vehemently, trying to hold back from being sick. His stomach had lurched violently when they had rapidly climbed into the air and, airborne one more, he suffered once again all the nausea of seeing the earth far below him. To make matters worse, they were flying so fast that the agonisingly cold air battered against his face and penetrated what little clothing he still had left.

'Did you sleep on the plane?' Leon asked him bluntly.

'Of course; it was a long journey.' He had to shout to be heard over the incessant pressure of the pummelling wind.

'You were probably drugged and given painkillers to make sure you stayed asleep as they implanted a tracker–'

He was drowned out by the crack of a number of large explosions that momentarily lit up the sky far behind them.

'Cruise missiles,' the headphone wearing dragon yelled out. 'They think three got through our anti-missile screen.'

'Spread out,' Celly ordered. 'No, he stays with me,' she quickly added when she saw that the dragon holding Jake was about to veer off.

'He's the one bringing them towards us,' Leon pointed out.

'If the second screening doesn't work, it they get any closer, we can drop him,' Celly cried back. 'You know why we need him.'

It would have been bad enough hearing Leon suggest that they should drop him, Jake thought. It was even worse hearing it coming so nonchalantly from Celly.

There were two more bright, thunderous eruptions behind them.

'They missed one,' Leon said, spinning around in mid-air, indicating to another dragon to follow him. 'For the child, right?' he added as he started heading back towards the oncoming missile, swiftly unfurling a net between himself and the other dragon.

A child?

Jake wondered, hoped, that he'd misheard Leon.

Did that mean that Celly was pregnant? With Leon's child?

'Make it work Celly, make it work!' Leon cried over his shoulder as he vanished into the darkness.

Determinedly tightening her lips, Celly flew on without looking back, the dragon holding Jake obediently and silently taking up position alongside her. Jake wasn't sure –it was hard to tell in the darkness, particularly with the cold wind making his own eyes stream – but Celly appeared to be crying.

A few minutes later, the missile exploded close behind them, so close the blast pounded hard against their backs, so close it clearly illuminated everything around them.

And Jake now knew for sure that, yes, Celly was weeping.

*

# Chapter 25

When they landed, the dragon holding Jake simply let him fall the last few feet, such that he ended up rolling through the dust and mud. He rose to his knees, shivering from the cold and the fear he'd experienced as they had swooped towards the ground.

Celly glanced back towards him.

He looked a mess.

Was this the boy she had fallen in love with back on the island?

For her, it seemed so long ago.

So incredibly long ago.

So much had happened to her, changing her in ways that no one could possibly understand.

She stepped towards Jake, offering him her hand.

He looked at her doubtfully at first, as if he were wondering whether to trust her or not, wondering if a change had taken place in her since her order to drop him if he continued to endanger them.

'I'm sorry,' he said, gratefully taking her hand and stiffly, painfully rising to his feet. 'Sorry about Leon.'

Feeling his hand in hers, Celly remembered how that simple touch would – not _really_ so long ago, in a more _normal_ timescale – have sent her whole body quivering with wonder, with anticipation of more wonderful sensations to follow.

Then, his breath alone would have set her skin tingling. It touched her with its warmth, its softness, its moistness, its sense of eagerness. It was a sensation in its own right, spiritual, ever changing, a fleeting passing that nevertheless probed deeply with its emotional need.

His lips, too – so delicate one moment, so hard and probing the next – made her conscious as never before of the delightful sensations lying within her own skin, her own undulating form. Lips that narrowed, pouted, kissed lightly. Lips that opened, savoured, swallowed. Lips from between which a mischievous tongue would dart, delivering its own pleasures.

I want you so so much, those lips would unmistakably declare, without a single word leaving them.

A year ago.

That's all it really was.

But, for her, it _was_ a long long time ago.

A time of immense changes in her life.

Immense hurts.

'I'm sorry too, Jake,' she said in reply to his concern at Leon's loss. 'Sorry I ever met you.'

If her bitter retort had stung him, he didn't show it.

'He must have loved you,' he said instead. 'To give his life like that for you.'

'Not for me, Jake; not in the way you mean anyway. We've avoided cruise missiles easily enough before.'

'That's why he wanted you to drop me? Because I was the target?'

Celly nodded.

'So he gave his life because I wanted you saved. Because I want you to have this.'

Producing a memory stick from an internal pocket of her grubby armour, she handed it to him.

'Because you need to know, Jake.'

Jake rolled the memory stick in his hand, eyeing it curiously.

'He died for _this_?' he asked incredulously. He looked Celly directly in the eye. 'What about the child, Celly? Isn't that what he really gave his life for?'

'Ultimately, yes, of course,' Celly admitted unapologetically. 'I would hope that one of the things you did learn about us on the island was that dragons will always protect the child; the child is the future. Without the child, we are ultimately nothing.'

'Yet he betrayed you Kelly. I was told that it was Leon who pointed the authorities to the island.'

'He hoped his father, Dr Frobisher, would be given preferences. I understand why he did it. I think he paid for his mistake a few times over, don't you?'

As Jake nodded in agreement, he heard the lightest of fluttering around him, like the landing of nothing more than a sparrow. But two dragons now stood either side of him, their skin darkened, their armour as black as the night they had seemed to appear from.

'Why you Celly?' he asked. 'Why are you the one leading them?'

'You mean why do they follow me, the silly little girl you remember from the island?'

'No, no; I mean, I could never have seen you being responsible for anything like this.'

With a glance to either side, he indicated the surrounding landscape of death and destruction.

'Both questions have the same answer anyway,' Celly replied acidly. 'My parents were their natural leaders in Hong Kong; and when they died, there was no one angrier than me!'

*

'I take it you can drive?' the dragon said, pulling out the dead driver of a car and starting it up with a quick punch of his fist and a slicing and twisting of the bared wires. 'You played a lot of computer games, Celly said?'

'Sure,' Jake said, shivering once again after a flight that had taken in a precarious journey across land still being contested by forces on either side. 'I've driven real cars a few times too, thanks.'

'Straight up this road is where you want to be heading,' the other dragon said, pointing up a road littered here and there with damaged or abandoned vehicles. 'This isn't an important section for either us or your side. Celly said you'll be picked up soon enough, once the guys tracking you realise you're no longer in our area.'

'Pick me up?' Jake replied bitterly. 'They tried to kill me earlier!'

'Only because you were with Celly.' The dragon slipped out of the driving seat, making way for Jake. 'She says they'll want to talk to you, just in case you've picked up any info they could use.'

'Only, don't give them the stick until you've watched it yourself,' the other dragon said, turning and already beginning to ascend into the air. 'Oh, and lock your doors and keep your windows up.'

'Are there any maps in her–'

Having switched on the car's interior light to familiarise himself with the dashboard controls, Jake looked back out of the door towards where the dragons had been standing. But they had both vanished, fading into the darkness without even the sound that a butterfly might make.

Jake switched on the main beams, swinging the car back onto the road.

He wasn't sure where he was heading.

But as long as he kept the thunderous roars and bright flashes of explosions behind him, then it was obviously in the right direction.

*

It wasn't long before Jake came across a number of weary, bedraggled people heading in the same direction that he was, their most precious belongings or what they had deemed as essentials haphazardly piled on their backs. Cars and trucks lay wrecked, abandoned or even ablaze at the sides of the road.

Realising that he had seats to spare, Jake slowed, winding down his window to shout out, 'I can give a lift to three or fo–'

Before he knew what was happening, and as if he had suddenly drawn their attention to his presence, he was suddenly surrounded by people who seemed to have appeared from nowhere, crowding around his car, pushing hard against its sides, banging frenziedly on the windows, even clambering over the hood. They were all yelling out in a language he didn't understand, Chinese probably he reasoned, yet it was obvious they were angry, frightened, aggressive.

One of the windows shattered under the incessant blows, a back door was wrenched open. People scrambled onto the back seat, only to be instantly pulled out by someone who briefly took their place.

Jake's own window exploded in his face. A hand followed, grabbing him violently by the throat, jarring his head again and again against the roof.

The door flew open, he was dragged out, thrown with a furious wrench of a wrist into the raging crowd.

Behind him, as he was pummelled, kicked, snatched at and furiously head-butted, he was dimly aware that someone had taken his place at the wheel.

*

# Chapter 26

As Jake sensed he was slipping into unconscious, there was a confusing, rippling glare of painfully bright lights, terrifyingly loud cracks and frightened yells, a booming thunder of blood surging uselessly around his brain.

*

The thunderous booming was still there, but now more muted, less overwhelming.

Even so, Jake's head throbbed, his eyes, when he opened them, remained unfocused and dizzying.

'Back in the land of the living, right son?' someone close by, perhaps even leaning over him, said with a pleased chuckle.

'Where...where am I? A...a helicopter?'

'You're with the Seventh Cavalry, son – and I mean that quite literally. What remains of it, anyway; Custer would have been proud!'

*

# Chapter 27

Light played off the pure-blue pool, undulating like ribbons of captured stars. The glow soared up into and illuminated the dim, morning sky like the beam of an enormous blue searchlight, creating a snatch of midday in otherwise gloomy surroundings.

The hotel itself was also an oasis, surrounded as it was by an overcrowded, frightened city, by an encircling, encroaching war. As Jake had tried to talk peace with Celly, the dragons' irresistible advance had continued, with very little of Japan now remaining under human control. Tokyo was besieged, as Jake had witnessed himself as, peering down from the helicopter earlier that morning, he had seen the long streams of terrified refugees pouring into a city that would probably fall that night when the dragons attacked once more in earnest.

Jake had been promised a seat out on the trains the dragons were allowing to leave the city, heading south and taking whatever innocents could be crammed into them. First, though, he could 'grab a bite to eat, freshen up – and fill us in on any new info you might have on what we're up against.'

The officer sent to interrogate Jake helped himself now and again to the parts of the breakfast that Jake insisted he wouldn't be able to manage; the toast, the preserves, the fruit.

'Well, they can avoid the cruise missiles you're sending out to kill them,' Jake said sourly, pulling his towelling robe tighter around his throat to keep out the morning chill, 'unless you've got a mug like me out there with an inbuilt tracker to lead them directly onto their target.'

'You as the target? That what they told you?' He wiped his fingers clean of marmalade, munched on the toast in the corners of his mouth. 'Missiles are being sent out that way all the time. And you being abducted and all, we didn't have time to tell anyone to hold back on firing them in that area. The tracker was there so we could pull you out if things turned dicey – as, of course, we did.'

He grinned, his eyes glinting innocently.

'Great marmalade, huh? Fresh, you ask me.'

'I can't help you much,' Jake confessed. 'I didn't even know they could breathe fire to be honest.'

'Thing is, Jake, we reckon they're taking a risk when they do. Sure, it's one hell of a set of lungs they've got on them – but powerful enough to send out a jet of flame that doesn't run the risk of running out of power and causing a blow back?'

He shook his head, reached for a mandarin orange and started to peel it.

'Have you seen that happen?' Jake asked, flinching as he involuntarily imagined what might happen to Celly if she tried it and it went wrong.

The officer, who had earlier introduced himself as Captain Paul Jones, shook his head again.

'I don't need to see it to know it could happen Jake. I've seen their lungs in autopsies–'

'You've cut them up? The dragons I mean; cut them up to see what they look like inside?'

Jones nodded, gulped down a piece of mandarin.

'They were already dead, and we needed to see what we might be up against.'

_'Might_ be up against? Not _are_ up against?'

'You gone native, Jake?' Jones asked with a frown. 'They were already dead, Jake; there wasn't room for them to be buried in Hong Kong, so they had to ship their dead out to us. We'd be fools, wouldn't we, not to take the opportunity to find out the potential dangers we faced?'

He must have noticed that Jake felt sickened by what he was hearing, for he quickly added, 'Son, these things are _animals_!'

Jake gave a relieved chuckle. 'It might seem like that now, but they lived amongst us for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years, without our even noticing them.'

'I meant they're _literally_ animals, Jake. Trust me on this one; I've seen it for myself. You know how these things breed?'

Jake hoped that Jones didn't realise he was fighting hard not to blush with embarrassment.

'Sure, just like us – obviously.'

Jones looked at him as if he were trying to figure out if Jake was just playing stupid or not.

'Eggs,' he said flatly. 'They lay _eggs_.'

Jake let out another relieved chuckle.

'No, no; the _old_ dragons, maybe, sure – but not _these_ dragons. They've evolved, just like we did from the apes.'

'Son, I've _seen_ it. When I took part in the patrols into Hong Kong, when we had to go in to make sure their talons were clipped.'

'You clipped their talons?'

'Too right we did! Regularly too! Have you seen what they can do to a tank? What they can do to a man doesn't bear thinking about. Of _course_ they were clipped!'

'How? Why did they let you do it? _How_ did you do it?'

'One by one, a bit like the animals trooping into the ark. When they turned up for what they thought were interviews for a nice little apartment in Hong Kong. The chair clamped around them, drugged them a little while we went to work on their talons–'

'And cages? You caged their wings too?'

'Sure; same thing as with the talons, son. We couldn't allow them to transform, when just one beat of those wings could break a man's back. How many soldiers would take part in the patrols if we didn't keep the dragons caged and sedated? And that, like I say, is when I saw it; damn near turned my stomach it did?'

'What, the cages?'

He looked at Jake like he might be playing being stupid again.

'No, not the _cage_! The _eggs_! They lay eggs! Just how sick is _that_?'

*

# Chapter 28

Celly had lied to him again.

Just like she had about the dragons being able to breathe fire.

The dragons _did_ lay eggs!

And, as Jones had said, that, was really really sick!

Jones had left now, leaving Jake to finish what was left of his breakfast, to freshen up with a shower in his room and put on the fresh change of clothes they'd bought him. As he placed what was left of his old clothes in the waste basket beneath the room's desk, something fell out of his one and only complete pocket, falling to the floor with a light clump on the thick carpet.

He bent down, picked it up.

It was the memory stick that Celly had given him.

He was about to throw it into the basket with the rest of his clothes – funny, he thought, how even now I'm trying to keep things tidy, when by tomorrow the whole hotel will probably be a tangled wreck – when he noticed that a laptop lay on top of the desk.

He twirled the stick between his fingers, wondering if–

He opened up and switched the computer on, plugged in the stick.

Was it just going to be more of Celly's lies?

Or would it – even worse – be nothing more than a crude, taunting video revealing the love that had grown between her and Leon?

*

Jake sat by the pool, where he'd been told by Jones to wait until a soldier called to take him to the station.

No one was in the pool. It had been left as a banqueting ground for a large flock of swallows, who continually swooped down to feast on the hundreds of small insects trapped by and floating on the lazily swelling waves.

There were few other people left in the hotel, but they were all people like him, sitting around the pool waiting to be collected.

Privileged people, who would be saved from the wrath of the dragons.

Being both well-educated and highly intelligent, the dragons had soon realised that the food being shipped into Hong Kong had been not only stripped of any nutritional value, but had also been laced with sedatives and even deadly bacteria. Medicines, too, had been adulterated, frequently causing more problems than they cured.

As he had now seen for himself on the video contained on the memory stick, the dragons had been left with no choice but to separate the better quality food from the dangerous and the drugged. The young, the healthy, were supplied with the former. The older dragons, including Celly's parents and Leon's father, despite their organisational and leadership skills, either ate the latter or starved.

Either way, the second group had soon begun to die, the numbers increasing with every passing week. And as the growing numbers of dead were shipped out, the quantity of food being shipped in diminished.

It made discovering a means of breaking free of the cages ever more urgent.

_Breaking_ free.

Jake hadn't realised it, of course, from Leon's fleeting referral to escaping the cages, but _breaking_ free of them was an apt, ugly description of part of the method employed.

He had cringed when he had watched the young dragons dislocating their wings to shrug off the cages.

As the video ended, Jake had been expecting some form of summation from Celly, a personal message to him, perhaps, or at least an instruction on how she expected him to use the revelations contained on the memory stick.

But there was nothing. Not even a last shot of her.

(Though he had caught glimpses of her now and again in certain shots throughout the film.)

Of course, the message of the video was plain enough.

The dragons had been left with no choice but to revolt and fight for their lives.

The swallows arched down towards the pool's delicate waves, picked up their tit bits, gracefully rose back into the air. It could be a metaphor for what was soon about to happen to Tokyo and the people left trapped within it, Jake realised; though why the insects seemed drawn to the pool, like moths to a flame, he wasn't sure.

'Excuse me,' he said to a politely smiling waiter who arrived at his table with the fifth fresh orange juice Jake had ordered, 'what makes the insects fly into the water?'

Although Jake had no understanding of Japanese, he couldn't fail to recognise that the waiter was apologising for his own lack of understanding. A woman seated at a nearby table interrupted, speaking to the waiter in what Jake presumed must be an adequate level of Japanese for the man began to enthusiastically answer, including in his reply an undulating of his hands replicating the rippling of the water.

'He says that normally the filter is on, so you don't see so many insects,' the woman explained to Jake. 'But he believes that the rippling light confuses them.'

The waiter smiled and nodded.

'Thank you,' Jake said to him, nodding his thanks. 'And thank you to you too,' he added, turning back to smile gratefully at the woman.

'It's a strange thing to be worrying about at a time like this; insects,' the woman said, giving him a weak smile in return, her eyes creased and soulless.

'Yes, yes, you're right,' Jake admitted, turning back to see the waiter briskly walking back between the tables, a number of empty bottles and glasses held high on his silver platter.

Would he be one of the lucky ones who would be allowed to leave? Jake wondered.

He stared back at the pool, focusing on the rippling light. Yes, the waiter's explanation seemed reasonable. Hadn't even he been bewildered by the fluctuating lights of the helicopter as it descended over the mob who, he was sure, had been about to kill him?

But it was a rippling light that meant much much more to him than a painful memory of how he had come so close to being killed.

It reminded him of the island, of the day he and Celly had first kissed, first caressed, first – well, there were so many firsts that day, weren't there?

That rippling lace of light, those sapphire blues, washing first over him, then over her, had merged them, blended their otherwise separate forms, bringing them together, making them one, eradicating differences yet emphasising others.

They had flowed within that swelling, heaving play of light, curled within it, swam amongst it as if their souls were finally free.

However briefly, that living, breathing light had made him as beautiful as she was.

And – was that what Celly had seen that day?

Not Jake, the real Jake. But a Jake suffused with a light that seemed to have been drawn from the stars.

Had she, like Leon, been dazed by nothing more than an illusion of radiant love?

A hole seemed to open in his heart.

A black hole, sucking up all the light, the remnants of joy, left within him.

Leaving him empty.

Hollow.

Dead.

He hung his head in his hands.

He didn't want anyone to see that he was crying.

When he glanced up at the pool once more, it was through the distorting haze of tear-filled eyes.

And, suddenly – he knew how to stop the dragons.

*

# Chapter 29

The pool lights had been switched off.

The only illumination across the now darkened city came from fluorescent tubes that had been left on in the odd office, the odd skyscraper.

The city was silent, everyone left behind anxiously waiting for the attack.

'They're making a move.'

The calm way in which the man wearing the headphones spoke reminded Jake of his time with Celly and her protective circle of dragons. Jake was standing with Captain Jones, looking up into the darkness, wondering when they would see the first signs of the oncoming dragons.

Everyone who had been seated around the pool had left. Jake had offered his place on the train to the waiter, who had accepted it gratefully.

In the distance, there was a flicker of gloriously hued gems, floating high in the darkness. More and more of them appeared, a Milky Way of multi-coloured stars.

As they swiftly approached, they spread out, grew in size, the ones towards the front becoming more recognisable as dragons, their enormous wings like flowing, beautifully embroidered cloaks.

Every skyscraper abruptly blazed with light.

Light emanating from the offices themselves, powerful projectors casting rainbows of sparkling colour out into the night.

Light cast up from below, playing across the massed windows of the skyscrapers, bathing them in rippling images of the aurora borealis, of sun-spackled seas, glistening treasure trove, molten gold, and mercurial rivers of silver.

Light that transformed the Tokyo skyline into an illuminated display of everything that glittered, shimmered and entranced with its radiant beauty.

'It should confuse them, at least briefly, making them easier targets,' Jake had explained when taking Captain Jones through his idea, backing it all up with a description of Leon's dazed stumbling after first seeing Celly in all her glowing splendour. 'At an educated guess, I'd reckon that most of Celly's attack troops are all under twenty – they generally are in any war – and that's the age when they're most likely to be affected by the beauty of all this light.'

He hadn't mentioned another reason for his belief that the light display might work. He had finally grasped, he believed, why medieval illustrations portrayed dragons being defeated by nothing more than a lone knight in shining armour; armour that shone with the golden glow of the reflected sun, the emerald hues of the surrounding trees, the glittering sapphire of the sky.

'We've got our own little touch,' Captain Jones had proudly declared to Jake when he'd returned with confirmation that the army command had become so desperate they were willing to try anything. 'Older shells, older ordnance; when they explode, depending on the type, they either suck in all the surrounding air or send out shock waves. In either case, we figure it should cause those lungs they rely so much on to either collapse or explode.'

The detonating shells added their own deadly illumination to the scene, miniature suns that briefly flared into existence, then died in an instance, taking everything around them with them, the glittering light of the nearby dragons flickering, falling, snuffed out as they hit the ground.

Jake prayed that a golden angel wasn't amongst them.

*

# Chapter 30

The helicopter hurtled across the darkened landscape, keeping low, heading in the general direction of where Celly had last been seen fleeing with the remnants of her force.

A bright, rippling light penetrated the darkness ahead of it, interchangeable images of a fluttering white flag and the word 'Parley', all contained within a larger scene of a sapphire blue sea.

Jake was sure that Celly would recognise the image as a sign that he was aboard the helicopter. He had begged the generals to give him another chance to ask for her surrender.

How could she refuse this time? It would be pointless continuing a war that could now only end one way; in the extinction of the dragons.

Every now and again, caught in the diffused edges of the projected sea, the cracked, shattered jewel that was a fallen dragon momentarily flared into life amongst the blackened wreckage below.

It was over.

The dragons had a weakness after all.

*

Jake waited patiently beneath the undulating sea the projector was casting up into the darkened sky.

The helicopter had landed and left him here, leaving the projector. If he wanted Celly to come to him, he would have to be alone.

A dragon appeared, circling at the farthest edges of the projected sea as if she were a mermaid gracefully gliding through warm waters. Another appeared, also circling, adding to the impression that Jake was looking up from a seabed, up into a gloriously blue sea that only extended so far before vanishing into a universe of empty blackness.

Celly silently fluttered into view, her golden body awash with an undulating light that immediately brought back so many wonderful yet also painful memories for Jake.

'I'm sorry,' Jake said as soon as Celly soundlessly landed directly in front of him.

'Sorry again Jake?' Celly managed a tired smile. 'What for this time?'

'It was my idea – the light, I mean.'

Celly chuckled even as she frowned in puzzlement.

'Why, thank you Jake. Such a glorious display, and all provided by you to – well, for what? To illuminate the demise of a species that was at least the equal of humanity?'

'But, I mean – the way it _confused_ you!'

_'Confused_ us?' She stared back at him curiously, giving him a bewildered grin. 'Yes, I admit it, Jake – I _am_ confused!'

Jake opened his mouth, paused, decided he wasn't sure what to say after all.

What a fool he was!

The light display hadn't worked! It hadn't stunned the dragons as he'd thought it would!

'It was just a _light_ , Jake – wait. Do you mean you thought it was some sort of secret weapon?'

Seeing Jake's embracement, realising that she had correctly guessed his intentions, Celly chuckled.

'Jake, that overactive imagination of yours! Still, it's served _me_ well up until now, as I've already admitted; all those faultless strategies I picked up from you. Seems like we've both misjudged it this time though, right? Still, a bluff always depends on your enemy taking fright, doesn't it?'

'Bluff?' Now it was Jake's turn to frown in puzzlement. 'What bluff?'

'This whole war, Jake; that was my bluff. There were never really enough of us to cause you any real problems, if you'd just stood your ground rather than retreating all the time. We weren't going to let you know it, of course, but we've been suffering losses that – well, they're so bad that our only chance was to keep you so terrified that you'd always let your retreats be turned into routs. We weren't expecting you to put up a fight for Tokyo; so, what do you know Jake, perhaps your secret weapon worked after all. It must have given your soldiers a belief that they at last had a chance of winning.'

She shrugged resignedly, grinned like she was tired with it all.

She looked so exhausted, so beaten, that Jake wanted to take her in his arms, tell her that everything was – somehow – all going to be all right.

'Why tell me now, Celly?' he said instead. 'Why are you telling me now that it was all a bluff?'

'Because it's finished, Jake; we're finished.'

'Peace, Celly? You want to talk peace?'

She shook her head.

'No, Jake; it's too late for that. We couldn't go back to how it was. And, after all this–' she indicated the destruction surrounding them with a causal nod of her head – 'it would be even worse. I only wanted to come here to give you somethin–'

The nearby projector let out a muted spluttering sound as, like an oversized roman candle, it spat out first a red flare then a green and a yellow one.

The three flares effortlessly rose up into the illuminated sky.

Celly was a blur as she stepped towards Jake, throwing her golden wings about him.

Then the flares exploded.

*

# Chapter 31

Even within the shielding embrace of Celly's wings, the shock wave rippled Jake's skin painfully, penetrated his lungs, pounding hard on their inner walls. Next the air was sucked out of him, as if he were drowning, drowning in the imaginary sea that suddenly enveloped him as the projector toppled, casting it's blue, undulating light low along the ground.

*

As Jake fought to get his breath back, a dragon fell to earth close by him, her wings flimsy and useless, her eyes wide with agonised shock.

The second dragon, having been higher in the sky, was still falling. He struck the ground with a dull thud, his wings crumpling about him like the masts and sails of a clipper wrecked upon the rocks.

'Celly!'

Celly's wings were no longer wrapped around him. She was on her knees, clutching at her chest, her head bowed as she wheezed like an asthmatic fighting for air.

Dropping into a crouch alongside her, avoiding her weakening wings, Jake hugged her tightly.

'I take it we were both tricked, right Jake?' she gasped, adding a stoic chuckle at the end.

'Celly, Celly! I'm so sorry, so sorry!'

'Sorry yet _again_ , Jake!' she chuckled painfully, slightly shrugging off his embrace so that she could reach down towards the thicker, lower flap at the base of one of her wings.

From a small, pocket-like fold of stretched skin, she produced what appeared to Jake to be a small bundle of bright green cloth.

_'I'm_ sorry, Jake,' she wheezed, handing it to him. 'I lied.'

Jake pulled aside the green material.

Inside was what could have been a half-grown ostrich egg.

Only this egg shimmered as if its shell had been made of delicately cut sapphires.

*

# Chapter 32

'I didn't want you to think I was a monster.'

Celly was having difficulty speaking.

'Leon's?' Jake asked, cupping the egg in one of his hands. 'Is it Leon's?'

Celly laughed bitterly and, her head still bowed, she felt for and grasped at the edges of the green material that Jake still held in his other hand, pulling at it, opening it out.

'We don't carry a child for nine months, Jake. It's over a year.'

At last she looked up and turned to him.

'And when our daughter's grown, Jake, I hope you think she looks beautiful in this.'

She drew his attention to the small green dress she'd now left flapping from his hand.

She leaned forward, kissed him. A kiss that was already delicate and light but was swiftly becoming lighter, lighter, fading quickly, as life was fading from Celly.

Jake clutched her to him, using the hand that held the small, green dress, cradling the beginnings of their daughter close between them.

The light of the shimmering water swam about them, blending them, such that anyone seeing them wouldn't know anymore where one began and the other ended.

The wings, weakening, dying, yet given a false sense of life by the flowing blue light, crumpled about them, enveloping them, caressing them.

Like a cocoon.

Like a sapphire-shelled egg.

End

If you enjoyed reading this book, please remember to click that you liked it on the Kindle Rating icon.

You may also enjoy (or you may know someone else who might enjoy) these other books by Jon Jacks.

The Caught – The Rules – Chapter One – The Changes – Sleeping Ugly

The Barking Detective Agency – The Healing – The Lost Fairy Tale

A Horse for a Kingdom – Charity – The Most Beautiful Things – The Last Train

The Dream Swallowers – Nyx; Granddaughter of the Night – Jonah and the Alligator

Glastonbury Sirens – Dr Jekyll's Maid – The 500-Year Circus

P – The Endless Game – DoriaN A – Wyrd Girl

Heartache High (Vol I) – Heartache High: The Primer (Vol II) – Heartache High: The Wakening (Vol III)

Miss Terry Charm, Merry Kris Mouse & The Silver Egg – Seecrets – The Wicker Slippers – The Cull

