

The Last

Dragon Slayer

Lelanthran Krishna Manickum ©2014

Smashwords Edition

  1. ##  Prologue

You are here. Imagine, for a moment, that there is a camera directly above your head, looking down at you. You are viewing yourself through this camera. All you see is the top of your head. Now zoom out a little, and you can see yourself in your surroundings. Perhaps you see the room you are in. Zoom out a little more and go a little higher and you'll see the house you are in. Zoom out even more to get a birds-eye view of your suburb. Go a little higher and you'll soon see your entire city. Continue moving upwards until, just before your camera reaches space, you see your entire country. Zoom out again and you'll see the earth – a blue and green sphere set against the breathtaking background of billions of stars. While still facing the earth you continue backing away from it, and very soon you have the entire solar system in your view.

You carry on backing away, passing millions of solar systems in your ever accelerating trip away from the solar system and sooner or later you'll have an entire galaxy in your sights. Imagine seeing millions of solar systems, with millions of suns, each with dozens or even hundreds of planets orbiting them. Some of these planets may contain, even as you read this, creatures of similar intelligence to your own and who are also holding books and reading the stories within. It's certainly nice to think so.

But your journey is not over yet. You back away from the galaxy. You back away from the Milky Way, and after a long time of travelling backwards through space you see that the Milky Way is not alone; there are millions of other galaxies. Can this journey ever end? What do you see if you continue backing away? When you get to the boundary of your universe and you are gazing at all of creation? What do you see when you stand at the edge of the universe and focus your view inwards, onto hundreds of millions of galaxies; billions of billions of stars and planets?

More importantly, what exactly will you see if, still travelling backwards, you cross the boundary of our universe? Imagine yourself standing at the very edge of the universe, and then imagine stepping out of it. What do you see then? Once you leave your universe the same way you left your house, your city, your planet and your galaxy? Might you not see a hundred different universes? Each with billions upon billions of worlds, countless planets?

Suppose that you choose one of these alternate universes that you now see, and suppose that you zoom in. You step into this alternate universe and turn your gaze inwards. A closer look reveals hundreds of millions of alternate galaxies in this alternate universe. You zoom in again. Whizzing by billions of stars, you enter one of these galaxies and you find that it has millions of alternate solar systems. Zooming in on a single solar system in this galaxy you find, with little surprise, that it has a blue-green planet. You zoom into the planet at astronomical speed, moving ever closer for a better look. As you speed past the clouds you see continents; getting closer even shows the little villages scattered here and there; fiefdoms and farmlands. You continue zooming in on this strange planet in a strange solar system in a strange galaxy in an alternate universe until you can zoom no more, and what do you find?

You find this story, of course. A story far away in a different world in an alternate universe; the alterverse, the alternate reality – one where magic is real and where the stories run themselves without being told how to go about their business. A world with dragons and wizards and all sorts of beasts that we never found on our more mundane world. It's a world filled with lore. It is on this world that our story starts...

  2. ## The Last Dragon-Slayer

It was a dark and stormy night. Two figures, one on horseback, the other a canine roughly the size of a small pony, stood at the entrance to a grim-looking castle. As castles go, this one went very well. It had all the trimmings, such as a moat filled with lots of hungry creatures with big teeth. Currently the drawbridge was down; the drawbridge was a battered and sturdy old thing anchored with large chains that managed to gleam even in spite of the moonless night. The castle had towers and turrets, and various cone-shaped pieces sticking out the top of the multitude of the towers. It had trebuchets lined up along the turrets, and special spaces along the watchtowers to accommodate archers. The architect had obviously been given very firm instructions of the form "Make it big! Make it the castle of castles. Make sure that anyone standing at the entrance to this castle thinks twice about invading. If at all possible, make them think twice about even thinking twice! Also, please make a small guardroom with a guest book so that the invaders can sign their name before entering, as at least then we will know who we just killed!"

It was the guardroom door that the two visitors were currently interested in. It was constructed in very much the same spirit as the rest of the castle, with tiny holes for archers to aim through or for swords and pikes to be pushed through. This king obviously took his defence very seriously. The two figures were speaking to each other while regarding the door-knocker in front of them, which was amusingly shaped to resemble an invader being crushed beneath the heels of the king.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" asked one of them.

"Yes, I'm sure. The Orc King was certain that this was the place," replied the other.

The first figure scratched himself before answering, "This is the same Orc who called for the forces of hell and darkness to visit us with a plague of biscuits?"

"Yes, well, you know," said the first figure awkwardly, "Until he met us he was a nothing and then you had to go and give him a magical crown. That sort of thing can really go to a person's head." He thought for a short while before correcting himself, "Well, an Orc's head. Anyway," he tried to explain, "He's an Orc, so he has to be evil. So, yes, Orcs generally call on the forces of hell and darkness for help."

The rain continued drenching the two figures. The second figure asked, "Yes, but... Help with biscuits?"

"He's an Orc. They're not generally known for carrying small baked goods on their person, you know. He had to think of something to pay you back for your kindness in giving him the crown. Besides, he used the power of the crown to find this kingdom for us, didn't he?"

"Yes, yes, you're right, of course. Besides the biscuits weren't all that bad either," said the second figure, "I wasn't prepared to take that power for myself, you know. It makes you celibate, after all, so we had better be far away from here once the Orc figures that one out. Go ahead and knock on this door, will you?"

The first figure got off the horse and rapped on the door. After what seemed like an eternity the door creaked open to reveal an old man reeking of whiskey who weaved slightly in the doorway. The figures stepped in, out of the rain.

It was about twenty minutes later.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that last bit," the knight said. He was tall, even for a knight. He had taken off his sallet to reveal a square-chinned, unshaven face under a long length of blonde hair. His gauntlets had been removed as well, during the negotiation with the Gatekeeper for a room. However the conversation had taken quite a nasty turn after the knight had enquired about the King.

"I said," the old man, whose name had earlier been established as Moodle, responded angrily, "We don't like to talk about it! Okay? I did what needed to be done. The important thing was done - the succession continued!"

The knight opened his mouth to probe more fully the meaning behind the old man's drunken rant but was drowned out by the sound of his dog barking at a mangy grey cat sitting by the stove. Hastily quieting the dog down under the glare of the old man, he apologised profusely for the dog's behaviour. "I'm afraid he's not a terribly smart dog," he told the old man.

The old man grunted and replied, "I agree, although he's a wee bit smarter than yerself, yer grace. He knows when to shut up and, luckily fer yer, he knows when to make a noise too." After a short shuffle down a dark hallway the old man showed the dog and knight into a small room, bare save for a rather uncomfortable looking bed and a faint smell of boiled eggs. "And please neaten up in the morning, yer grace, the girls don't come down here to clean fuh'me no more." The old man admonished the knight, before shuffling off down the passage. The mangy grey cat, previously the victim of the dog's verbal abuse, slunk into the room before the door swung shut.

"Horrible night, this is." Cat addressed Dog, sitting down on her haunches in a very regal way.

"Excuse me? That is quite uncalled for!" retorted the knight with some irritation. He was, after all, still dripping with lazy raindrops that had failed to dry off since he had stepped indoors. "I'll have you know that I'm quite a competent swordsman..."

"Swords-person", Dog interjected.

"... and I've done my prayers and my duties of vigil to be knighted!" he finished, to the annoyance of Cat.

"I was talking," said Cat, "about the weather." Cat's tail swished.

"Oh," said the knight, "Ah, I see sorry, sorry, as you were. In fact, let's start over, shall we?"

Cat's tail swayed and swished. "Very well," she said, and then addressed Dog, "Horrible knight this is, isn't it?"

"Yes, it really is bucketing down," the knight agreed.

The tail swished yet again. "I wasn't talking about the weather this time," Cat replied in a manner that could only be described as 'catty'.

"Hey, wait, that is quite uncalled for..." the knight began but Cat cut him off with hiss.

"We've just had that conversation," she spat at him, "Don't you think it's time we got to the meat of the matter?"

"This place serves dinner?" asked the knight, now completely bewildered, "I didn't think they'd be that generous."

"They aren't," said Cat, "And, to be blunt, I'm genuinely surprised at that."

"At what? That I thought that they served dinner?" ask the knight, now so far out of his depth that scuba gear wouldn't have looked out of place.

"No," hissed the cat, "I'm surprised that you think at all."

"Hang on," said the knight, "I've been nothing but nice to you and you hiss insults at me, but Dog over here barked at you earlier and you haven't been mean to him at all."

"Dog, over here," Cat said, indicating Dog with a curt nod, "Was saving you from saying something stupid that would anger old Moodle the Gatekeeper. Had you gone any further in your enquiries over the questionable claim of our esteemed royalty to the throne, old Moodle would have shoved you back out into the rain. Dog was simply stopping you from saying those things that should not be said."

A thick silence descended into the room. The knight, with the kind of embarrassment that only comes with the full realisation that one may have been attempting an own goal, sat down on the bed. The silence deepened, along with the deepening red colours on the knight's cheek. He cleared his throat a few times. He opened his mouth to speak, then thought the better of it.

Dog glared at Cat, "And exactly why are you here? Surely the palace grounds are filled with other creatures just waiting to be insulted?"

"I can help you in your Quest," Cat said smoothly, "While your knight..."

"Wait just a minute," the knight interrupted, "How come you know of our quest? For all you know we're just a passing knight and his trusty companion." The knight sniffed before continuing, "Who says we're even on a quest?"

"Are you on a quest?" asked Cat.

"Yes," answered the knight promptly, before realising with a trace of annoyance that he should have kept quiet, "But you weren't to know about it."

"Well, I do now," said Cat, "I wasn't sure until you said 'Yes', of course".

The knight looked confused. Cat appeared to be satisfied. Only Dog still had questions. "You were explaining your appearance here to us?" he asked Cat.

"Dog, that's quite rude of you, you know!" the knight, with all the grace and delicacy of a traffic accident, barged into the conversation once more, "People... err... animals... um... pets... you know, they can't always help how mangy they look, you know." After a moment's thought he added, "Perhaps she isn't feeling very well."

Cat stopped looking satisfied and started looking annoyed instead. "Look," she said, "Let me try again, okay?" Cat took the expectant silence as a cue to continue, "I can help you in your Quest." Cat started grooming herself. "While your knight may be, as he said, a real knight in all physical aspects..."

"In all the ways that matter!" Dog corrected, a shadow of a growl entering his voice.

"... In all the ways that matter," Cat continued, completely unperturbed at the unfriendly correction, "I very strongly suspect that your knight will come running if someone were to throw a ball."

Dog gave up and hung his head in shame. "How did you know?" he asked Cat, "Is it really that obvious? I thought we were doing great. You're not planning on telling on us are you? We could use a break, see?" Dog was absolutely forlorn. You could tell by the way his tail drooped.

Cat assumed a smug air; a good deal more smug than she had managed up to now, which Dog considered to be quite an achievement, even by the usual feline standards of arrogance. "Consider it done, " she said.

"Consider what done?" said the knight, having decided that it was safe to enter the conversation again. Anyway, his usual attention span of a puppy chasing a butterfly had kicked into effect, making him forget the perils of talking to Cat.

Cat yawned, "Your secret is safe with me," she said to Dog, "Let him know, will you? There's lots to be done and very little time in which to do it. Your secret is safe," and here Cat grinned a sly grin, "as long as you help me, that is. Open the door now!" This last sentence was addressed to the knight who got up and opened the door to let the little feline terror out. Dog thoughtfully watched Cat stalk out through the door.

"Well," Dog told the knight once the door was once again closed, "I think she wants something from us. Perhaps all she wants is to toy with us before she kills us." Dog sighed heavily, making the room smell slightly of doggy-breath. "It's time we turned in tonight. We'll find out what it is we're going to have to do for Cat in the morning. Go to sleep now, please."

The knight obediently curled up on the bed.

It was a bright and sunny morning, with the fresh air smell that only comes after a really heavy torrential downpour. Moodle had roused the knight, produced a bowl of sludge-like porridge that was given to the knight with the assurance "Not to worry, yer grace, this will put hairs on yer chest. Old recipe from me dear old granny."

After a small whispered debate between Dog and the knight over the general hairiness of Moodle's granny's chest, the knight gave in and ate the porridge. A tiny bowl of leftover meats was given to Dog, who carefully bit into it with the air of one who has faced unknown dangers before and is prepared for anything.

The knight's armour was given a polishing until the rust gleamed and the knight and Dog were lead to the throne room to meet the ruler of this kingdom in order to pay their respects. Cat slunk in behind them and was soon padding along softly next to Dog. Dog and the knight surveyed king Vletch, redolent upon a massive throne constructed out of rock and wood and, Dog was concerned to note, a few skulls as well, while the king did likewise with the two visitors. The king was a massively built man, with muscles bulging out of each visible area of skin. He gave the impression of someone who would answer the question "You and whose army?" with "Don't need one" before proceeding to rub the questioners face into the dirt. Even his muscles had muscles.

"Who are you?" the king asked the knight in a voice like thunder. His voice matched his body in that it was huge and big and filled the room.

"I am the knight," replied the knight. Cat looked slightly amused at this answer.

"And your name would be?" prompted the king.

"Just the knight, your highness. Just the knight."

"What? Don't you have a name?"

The knight looked uncomfortable at this. The king went on "What did your parents call you, lad?"

"How did you kn..." the knight started and then abruptly stopped. The knight reddened before answering, "I'm just the knight, your highness. I've always been the knight."

The king considered this before speaking "You weren't christened, only described?" Some of the men-at-arms in the throne room were trying very hard to not giggle. Cat, smooth as ever, simply sat and groomed herself, as if the very idea of royalty was beneath her and not deserving of even her contempt. Of course, all cats believe themselves to be higher than royalty in any case and so this wasn't considered to be out of the ordinary in the throne room.

"I seek my fame, and I seek my fortune, your highness." said the knight.

"Fame, eh?" smiled the king, stroking his immaculately trimmed goatee, "How do you intend to be famous without a name? You'll be the 'The Famous Knight Without A Name'?"

"I'll be the knight who conquered your dragon," said the knight, gaining some confidence in the face of the kings obvious friendliness.

"Look at me, lad. Do I look like the type of king who sends a knight to fight my dragons? I kill dragons myself, me lad. Not that there's any left to kill, you know. They've all been hunted, you know." The king contemplated the knight and tapped a couple of huge fingers on the arms of the throne. "You may stay as long as you want, of course. The kingdom of Vletch will be no poorer for keeping a visitor for awhile."

"Thank you, your highness," said the knight.

"And, of course, you can go all over the kingdom searching for a dragon to hunt," Vletch said, "Traipsing through the countryside with nothing to look at but clouds and rain will soon break you out of any fantasy you have of going home with a dragon's head as a trophy."

"Thank you, your highness," said the knight again. It seemed to him that that was the safest course of action with this king. Asking any questions would only encourage the loud voice to continue assaulting his ears. The knight had no wish to walk out with bleeding ears.

"That dog of yours, can it hunt at all?" asked Vletch hopefully, his voice booming across the throne room.

"Only steaks, your highness," said the knight, "And only if they are well-done with, perhaps, a side of potatoes."

Vletch's laughter, at an almost painfully high volume, echoed throughout the room. "You're quite a funny man, knight." he said eventually, when he could talk again.

The knight tried to look suitably funny. "Ha Ha," he said politely, trying to see the joke.

"Very well, point taken" said the King, still giggling, "Moodle would sort you out with a good dinner."

The interview being over, Moodle led the knight and the two pets away from the throne room. "How'd you like yer 'taters?" asked Moodle amiably, as they exited into the courtyard.

It was late afternoon. The sun had vanished behind clouds and the storm was threatening to return. The knight and Dog had shared the large steak and potatoes provided by Moodle. Cat had climbed up onto the back of a high-chair and was addressing the knight and Dog. Her story was the same old story, told a hundred times by a hundred different storytellers. Boy meets Girl. Boy loses Girl to another Boy. Boy then loses his mind and enlists the help of a local woman with warts, a snazzy levitating broomstick and a habit of cackling madly, hoping to cause Girl to fall in love with him. Unfortunately local woman hasn't any sanity either, and Girl gets turned into a cat by mistake. Boy meets another Girl and forgets all about the worlds unhappiest feline. Same old story, told a hundred times.

"Tell me again," said the knight, "Exactly what help do you expect from us?"

"I don't know," answered Cat, "You two are the only ones who can understand me. No one else can understand me, hence you are the only ones who might be able to help."

"Is the old woman still around?" asked Dog, "It strikes me that someone who can turn a girl into a cat, can turn a dog back into a knight and a knight back into a dog."

Cat's tail swished in annoyance, "I don't really remember where all this happened. I only came to this place lately, you know. Anyway, last I remember she was even crazier than she used to be, what with building a cottage of gingerbread and sweets in the middle of the forest. With that kind of thinking, asking her to reverse your changes and make you a knight again might not be such a good idea. You might wake up and find that you're a turnip." Cat regarded the knight for a moment, "Of course, in his case, being a turnip might be an improvement."

The knight growled before remembering himself, and spoke, "There's a reason that dogs are mans best friend and cats are not."

Dog stood up and stretched. "Our story is not that much different," he told Cat. Dog sat on his haunches and cleared his throat. Cat sighed. This was obviously going to be a long story.

"Our tale begins," said Dog, "With a valorous knight, decorated and famous in word and in song all over the land."

"What was his name?" asked Cat.

"Dhlon the Brave!" replied Dog with a small measure of pride.

"Never heard of him," said Cat, "Please, continue."

"Our hero," continued Dog with no less pride than before, "And his trusty sidekick, a hound of remarkable loyalty..."

"And limited intelligence?" interrupted Cat.

"And tracking ability unmatched!" said Dog with vehemence, "Going by the name of Dane the Great."

Cat gazed at Dog, who was of a breed known as the Great Dane. "My," she purred, "What an imaginative and creative name he had."

"Has." said the knight.

"Look, people," said Dog with, to his credit, only a smidgen of annoyance, "I can't very well tell the tale with all these interruptions!"

"Very well," Cat said, "Proceed. I shall only interrupt if I hear Moodle returning down the passage."

"Thank you," said Dog politely, much to Cats surprise. The palace dogs were very rarely polite to Cat, although Cat's habit of stealing the choicest portions of the palace dog's dinner and then taunting them from somewhere high up probably had something to do with their lack of manners when addressing Cat.

"Dhlon and Dane," Dog settled down into the story once again, "Were the best dragon-hunters in the land. Dane, with his sensitive nose, could track almost any animal. Dhlon, a knight of valour and skill, never failed to find a creature's vulnerable spot. Many a fire-breathing Dragon's last sight of the world was the holy sword sticking out their chest."

Dog's voice dropped slightly in volume, "The trick with Dragons, as Dhlon and Dane knew, was that not every Dragon was an evil creature. Some dragons wanted nothing more than to raise their children and find their next meal, same as every other creature on earth. Some dragons were good, as some people were good. Some dragons were evil, as some people are evil."

Cat interrupted, but this time with quiet respect as the story was actually very interesting to her, "Is this the part where the evil person turns the knight into a dog, and the dog into a knight?"

"Not just yet," said Dog, grateful that the audience appeared to be interested, "An evil creature does enter the picture here. A monster, in the form of a man."

"What monster was he before he became human?" asked Cat, clearly very into the tale now.

"What?" Dog replied, slightly confused, "He was always human."

"But you just said that he was a monster in the shape of a man." insisted Cat.

"I wasn't being literal, Cat!" said Dog severely, "It was, well, sort of literary license. I meant," and here Dog spoke carefully lest he lose his audience again, "That he was a monstrous person, of evil thought and evil deeds."

Cat digested this for a moment before saying "Understood. Please, continue."

"The evil person was wise in the ways of magic, more so in the ways of dark magic. For one of his spells he required the heart of a good and pure dragon." Dog sniffed a little before continuing, "Of course, who would he call but the most famous dragon-hunting duo ever to grace the earth? Dhlon and Dane."

"And," said Cat taking advantage of a small moment of silence to ask a question, "He promised you all the pleasures of the world if you would only kill a good and pure creature for his evil ends?"

"When you put it that way," said Dog, "We sound very evil ourselves." He struggled to explain it, "It actually did not happen that way. We were given payment upfront in gold. We were given the location of the Dragon. We went to the location, and found the Dragon in a rage so great it was unable to even speak. It had been laying waste to the village and had razed most of the village to the ground. This was in line with what our err... employer... had told us."

"What had he told you?" asked Cat, still fully engrossed in the story.

"That this was an evil dragon, that fed off people and delighted in tormenting and torturing people and animals. When we found the Dragon, it really was attacking people. We quickly assembled a plan to kill this Dragon. It was in a rage and destroying large parts of the village, after all."

"Did the plan work flawlessly?" asked Cat.

"The plan worked flawlessly." said Dog.

"Was the plan cunning and devious?" asked Cat.

"The plan was both cunning and devious." said Dog.

"Was the fight valiant and hard-fought?" asked Cat.

"The fight was valiant and hard-fought." said Dog.

"Was the fight remembered in song forever-more?" asked Cat.

"The fight was remembered in song forever-more," said Dog, "Look, do you want to hear how this ends or not?"

"Sorry, sorry," Cat was all contrite, "Please, do go on."

"The Dragon was tricked, and a spear was launched. A spear which found its target deep within the chest of the Dragon. The Dragon fell out of the sky at last and dropped to the earth. We rushed over to deliver the killing stroke but we found that further violence on our part was unnecessary."

"It was already dead?" asked Cat.

"No, she was still alive, but dying fast. The dragon, mortally wounded though she was, cursed us with her last breath."

"You see," said the knight, "This dragon was more than a dragon, she was one of the pure ones. The pure Dragon occurs rarely, but when they do, they have limited magical ability." The knight took a deep breath, "Notably, their curses tend to have a habit of sticking."

"Doesn't sound very good or pure to me," said Cat, "After all, cursing doesn't really go with words like 'good' or 'pure'."

"Well, it's like this," said Dog wretchedly, "Anyone killing a pure Dragon is cursed. That's part of the lore."

"Ah," said Cat, her eyes wide, "So, you kinda get the punishment for killing a pure creature, without the creature needing to sully their goodness by cursing you themselves?"

"Well, that's partly true," admitted Dog, "The Dragon being killed gets to choose the nature of the curse."

"So," Cat said in the air of one who is summing up the situation, "You two got your bodies swapped by killing a pure Dragon and now you want a wizard to reverse the curse?"

"Broadly speaking... yes," said Dog, looking shamefaced at having to say what had to be said next. "Dragon turned out to not only be pure, but to be a mummy as well."

"You slaughtered a mother?" asked Cat, genuine shock entering her voice for the first time.

"We weren't to know," whined Dog, "We only found out later that the wizard had hidden the Dragons egg in the village. We weren't to know that she was simply trying to get her egg back."

Cat subjected the pair to a fierce glare, "And what of the egg?"

"The wizard," said the knight, by way of explanation.

"The wizard," said Dog, trying to expand on the explanation, "Has got the egg." After noticing Cat's still baleful glare he quickly added, "Oh, don't worry, he won't destroy it and it won't hatch either. Not without a Dragon to hatch it."

Cat's stare never wavered.

"You see," said Dog, trying once again to explain in the hope that a suitable explanation will cause Cat to blink again, "The curse of a dying Dragon can only be lifted by that Dragon's children."

Cat finally unbent a little, not all the way to blinking, but at least her eyes narrowed a little. "I think," she told, "That you are on this quest for a truly selfish reason. You simply want to be a knight again." She jumped down off the chair, "You don't want to wrong any rights, you don't want to make amends, you only want to be a knight again."

"Nothing wrong with that," said the knight, "I'm still a dog after all, but I preferred being a dog in a dog-shaped body. Being a dog in a man-shaped body is a hard life, you know."

"Besides," said Dog, "We did not set out to commit a sin."

"No," replied Cat, "But it was done anyway." Cat slowly stalked towards Dog. "So, let us say..." she continued as she walked slowly and deliberately towards Dog, "You find your Dragon, and your Dragon doesn't eat you up, and your Dragon has no grudge against Dragon-killers, and your Dragon holds no grudge against mummy-killers." Cat's voice dropped in volume with each padded step that brought her closer to Dog. "And your wizard is such a pushover that you steal the egg away from him, which," here Cat allowed herself a humourless glint of a smile, "Lets be honest, will be no easy task if mummy Dragon herself was unable to recover it. But, let us say that you can do all those things, and that your Dragon can hatch the egg..."

Cat stopped directly beneath Dog's huge jaws and faced Dogs muzzle, "How, pray tell, are you intending to convince the baby Dragon to perform favours for the creatures who killed the baby's mother?"

"We do not expect it, and we will not ask it," the knight said gruffly, "We committed a sin, a crime against all that we held to be good and true. All we want to do now is try to fix what we can of the broken situation. All we can do is set the baby free." The knight cleared his throat and went on, "Anything else is a bonus."

Cat looked at him in surprise, "That's the longest speech I've heard you give. And here I was thinking that perhaps you were incapable of thinking long thoughts." Cat squinted at the knight, "Is that a tear?"

"Enough, already," said Dog, "Dane is not used to a body that allows emotions to run wild." In response to Cat's questioning look he tried to elaborate, "You see, you take on some characteristics of the body that you are in. Dane doesn't know how to hide emotions very well." He added under his breath, "And I had a rough time getting used to peeing with one leg in the air."

Cat, who was performing her usual low-slung stalking towards the door said over her shoulder, "You forget that I used to be human. You also forget what great hearing cats have." She paused at the door, her ears twitching slightly, "Old Moodle's on his way back, by the way, so you'd do well to keep a low profile and let your knight do all the talking." With that Cat disappeared into the passage.

They had searched the Kingdom of Vletch for three weeks. Cat occasionally joined them when the weather threatened sun. Dragon lairs had, thus far, failed to appear. Quite a few bears found their caves violated in their absence, smelling faintly of Human, Dog, and sometimes when the weather was good, Cat. Eyeglasses were used to survey the landscape. Animal tracks were examined in detail. The faintest scents were described in minute detail whenever Dog came across them. The knight and Dog employed every trick known to man (and dogs) to pick up the trail of the dragon, with no luck whatsoever. Even Cat's oft-boasted remarkable hearing had turned up no clue to the lair of a dragon. Cat began to spend more time searching for a dragon than taunting the palace dogs, a fact which did not go unnoticed by Moodle. Not that Moodle minded the sudden arrival of peace and quiet, but it did mean that Moodle regarded Cat with much more suspicion that he usually reserved for mangy cats.

Each night after a gruelling supper (of mostly gruel) provided by Moodle, the trio would pore over maps of the Kingdom of Vletch carefully eliminating those areas that had already been searched and planning the ground to cover over the next day. Each evening found the three companions huddled over maps, reading books by candlelight. The books, borrowed from Moodle, eventually lead to the first breakthrough in the investigation. Progress during these evening sessions proceeded much more slowly than it could have, mainly because Dog and Cat refused to talk in the presence of anyone other than the knight, and Moodle had taken to joining the knight for a chat in the evenings.

This was one such evening. Moodle was in a good mood; the knight could tell by the extra gruel in his gruel. Cat and Dog stretched out on the floor, both slowly nodding off to sleep. The knight had taken to reading his maps with even more concentration in the hope that they would eventually give up the location of the dragon in the face of more desperation.

"Not found yer dragon yet, yer grace?" asked Moodle, appearing suddenly in the doorway.

"It won't be long," answered the knight. Moodle nodded in acknowledgement and asked, "Has yer grace looked in the library? There might be something of interest in the palace library, yer grace."

"Why?" asked the knight, "What is it?"

"It's a large building with books, yer grace," Moodle unsuccessfully attempted to look wise. "Just look in the library, yer grace," he said mysteriously and shuffled off down the passage.

"How big is the palace library?" Dog asked Cat.

"You know I was almost asleep?" Cat answered reproachfully, lazily opening one eye to glare at Dog. Luckily she was too sleepy to put any venom into her stare. "That couldn't wait till the morning?"

"I don't know," answered Dog, "We'd look a couple of fools if it turns out the dragon was within the palace walls all this time, wouldn't we?" Dog got up and stretched before turning around a few times and lying down again.

"Why do dogs do that?" asked Cat, both eyes now closed.

"It wasn't me," said Dog automatically, "The humans always do that and blame the dog!" Dog sniffed before continuing, "It wasn't anyone actually, I don't smell anything. What are you talking about, Cat?"

"I was wondering," Cat said sleepily, "Why do you dogs always turn around a few times before lying down."

"I don't know," said Dog after a moment's thought, "It's part of the instincts that came with this body. I don't know why this body needs to walk in a circle a few times before lying down, it's just something that the dog body does."

"I know why," said the knight after a considerable while. Without looking up from his maps he continued, "It flattens the brush and grass into a comfortable bed." Cat didn't hear this. She was fast asleep.

The next morning found the team standing at the entrance to the palace library. In deference to the fact that they expected no danger while in the middle of the palace grounds, the knight was out of his usual suit of armour. "How big did you say this dragon would be?" asked Cat gazing at the spire at the top of the library.

"I didn't," said the knight, "Dog said it would be an adult."

"What makes you so sure your dragon isn't just some youth of a dragon? Maybe she is just a teenager in Dragon years? Possibly she's small enough to hide in here?"

"No," said Dog, "There's not been a dragon hatched for at least my entire life."

"Is that in human years or dog years?" asked Cat, still eyeing the roof of the library.

"Human!" replied Dog. The library was located in a relatively quiet part of the palace grounds. Of course librarians are well-known for militantly enforcing silence so it was very possible that this part of the palace grounds was once a thriving and bustling area until the building of the library and the arrival of an experienced librarian who produced large signs that said "SILENCE!" and facial expressions from sucking on lemons. Whatever the actual reason, the emptiness of the area proved fortuitous; it meant that Dog and Cat could contribute to the conversation.

"Hey, Dog, ever been in one of these things?" asked Cat.

"No." replied Dog sadly.

"You say that so glumly," said Cat.

"Me neither." said the knight even more gloomily than Dog.

"You say that with even more glum than Dhlon," Cat said to the knight. As Cat suspected, to the two heroes the world of books was, well, a closed book.

"Okay, not a problem," said Dog, "How hard can it be? We'll just follow your lead." Dog then added sarcastically, "After all, I expect an intellectual like yourself is in and out of libraries all the time."

"No need for that sort of thing," Cat said a tad reproachfully, "I asked for a good reason you know."

"Yes?" Dog said expectantly.

"Pets aren't allowed." said Cat.

"Oh." Dog was thoughtful for a moment.

"Perhaps," suggested the knight, "I could talk the caretaker into letting us in?"

"What do you mean 'us'?" asked Cat, "I get in all the time. Besides, there isn't a caretaker, there's a librarian."

"I thought you said pets weren't allowed," said Dog.

"Cats are no ones 'pet'," Cat said, almost spitting out the last word, "Anyway, I'm a cat, right? I go wherever I please. Usually through an open window on the top floor."

"We still," persisted Dog, "Have not yet got a plan for entering the library. Fine, Cat gets in. What then? Can cats read?" Dog and the knight looked at Cat, who looked back insouciantly. "Well?" asked Dog.

"Well, what?" asked Cat.

"Can you read or not?" asked Dog.

"Probably." Cat answered.

"Probably?" asked Dog, "Either you can or you cannot."

"Well, I won't know until I've tried," said Cat, " I can recognise words though."

"Okay," said the knight producing a small letter from his pocket. He pointed to a word on the paper, "Look at this, then. Do you recognise this?"

"Yup," Cat said happily, "That's a word, all right."

"No," said Dog, "He meant 'Do you know which word it is? Do you recognise this word?'"

Cat examined the letter thoughtfully before replying, "Nope. Never saw it before in my life. What did it do?"

"It didn't do anything," said the Dog, who had been looking at what the knight was pointing out. "It's just a word, that's all."

"Well, maybe we could start with something simpler?" asked Cat confidently, "I'm pretty sure reading isn't that hard, or else Humans wouldn't be doing it."

"Something simpler than 'AND'?" asked Dog doubtfully, "I don't think so."

"All of us have got to get inside," said the knight, "This isn't helping. Even if Cat could read, how would she know what to read?"

"You ask the librarian and she tells you where the right book is, in the library," said Cat, "I've been in there lots. I did say, didn't I?"

"Yes, yes you did," replied the knight, "but you can't read, so what were you doing in there anyway?"

"Mice love paper for bedding," replied Cat a little guiltily. "Look," she said in response to the sudden embarrassed silence, "Cats have to eat too, right? And ever since I was turned into one I have to say that offers of free dinners made by hopeful young men have been rather few and far-between." Cat sighed, "In fact, there have been none." The silence continued. "Anyway," said Cat trying to fill the silence with anything but embarrassment, "Mouse does taste pretty good to cats even if it does taste awful to Humans. When I'm in a cat body I get cat tastes, see?"

"Never mind," said Dog comfortingly, "We understand."

"We do?" asked the knight.

"Yes!' replied Dog emphatically, wanting to get the other two to concentrate on the problem at hand, "Now look, we three need to get inside that library and find out what old Moodle was going on about last night."

"I'd still like to talk to that librarian," said the knight. He still retained remnants of the doggy belief that any problem could be solved by establishing alpha status and peeing on things to mark territory. As a result of this belief his first few days as a Human had lead to some embarrassing incidents whenever lamb chops or attractive women were involved. It also meant a certain, well, dogged approach to problem-solving that caused more problems than it solved. Dog briefly considered this before realising that he was seriously considering letting the knight argue with someone. Again. The last time the knight had attempted to convince someone of the validity of his argument it hadn't turned out too well. Ah well, thought Dog, Why should I care if another person gets bitten on the ankle.

"Very well," Dog said, ending the verbal argument between the knight and Cat, "May as well try."

Cat sniffed. "Hey, it's your funeral," she said, "I'll meet you two on the top floor inside." Cat sauntered off towards the back of the library, "If, that is, you don't get frozen by the Look of the librarian when she sees your 'PET'!"

"The librarian is a witch with magical freezing powers?" asked the knight, confused.

"I don't think so," said Dog slowly, "Has it occurred to you that Cat really should be able to read? After all, she was human at some point and she certainly talks very well, right? So, she should be able to read."

"I don't know," replied the knight, "I couldn't read when I was a dog, but I read just fine now, don't I?"

"Err." said Dog vaguely.

"Don't I?" asked the knight again.

"Well," said Dog, "You read very well, it is true, but perhaps you could practice reading without sticking out your tongue in concentration when you do it? Maybe even try reading without tracing each letter with your finger?"

Still discussing matters of literary-consumption style, Dog and the knight entered the library. The library itself was a huge building. It was also, compared to other buildings around the palace, quite new. Dog and the knight found themselves in large airy room filled with large colourful books. Little stools were scattered in a neat manner throughout the room; stools obviously not meant for adults but for children. Tiny tables were tastefully placed at certain spots. A large sign hung over the entrance and proclaimed to the world that, against all evidence to the contrary, silence was a virtue. Colourful pictures of sheep and piglets and square-chinned young princes rescuing golden-haired young princesses dominated the walls. Some fluffy toys decorated a few of the shelves.

"No talking!" said a stern voice.

Dog went silent immediately while the knight looked around for the owner of the voice.

"Who are you talking to anyway?" asked the voice again, and then followed this with a tired, "I'm over here, to your left."

After a few moments the voice went on, "Your other left?"

The knight finally located the owner of the voice on his left (the right left, not the wrong left which wasn't right at all, but was on the right). The librarian turned out to be a small-built young woman with an ironically bookish face and thick lenses on her spectacles. One glance at her face told the knight that eye-contact with this one might be perceived as a challenge. "Ah," he said looking at his feet, "I wonder if you can help me, I'm looking for..." but he got no further than that.

"Is that a pet?" asked the librarian.

"No," replied the knight, "That's my dog."

The librarian pursed her lips together and pointed a finger at a small sign near the entrance. "No Pets Allowed!" she said.

"Ah, yes, you see," said the knight, "This isn't a pet, you see."

The librarian gave Dog a very long look, "Looks like a pet to me."

"Not at all," said the knight still gazing at his shoes, "You see, a pet is simply some poor animal that people keep for company. This dog is not for my company." He cleared his throat wondering how to explain that a pet could only provide comfort and solace while a good hunting or tracking dog was worth its weight in gold. "This dog," he said, "Performs useful services to me, and functions as an extension of myself when I need him to."

The librarian let out a sympathetic sigh. "Oh my, I'm so sorry," she said in an altogether warmer voice, "I had no idea."

"Yes, well," said the knight happily, relieved that this was going so well.

"I should've known, you know, from the way that you couldn't find me when you first got in." the librarian continued.

"Eh?" said the knight. Even Dog let out a soft confused whimper.

"But, really sir, you should get the glasses," the librarian went on.

"It's a bit early for a drink, madam." said the knight.

"Haha," the librarian laughed, "You're such a joker." Her mood was much more amiable now. "I meant the dark glasses."

"Haha," the knight dutifully laughed. He was thoroughly lost now but didn't care as long as the crazy lady remained friendly. Dog briefly wondered if the pair of them would get out of this alive; people who were insane were much more likely to kill you for silly things, like disbelieving the little green men that only the insane person could see.

"Of course, I don't judge, myself," continued the librarian, oblivious to the confusion of the knight. "We are all equal, of course, and should be treated as such. But," she said, "You really should take your cane out with you so that people know about your little problem, sir."

"My cane?" sputtered the knight, "My problem?"

"You know," said the librarian, "Your blindness. Not everyone knows about seeing eye dogs."

"I'm blind?" asked the knight in disbelief.

"Oh dear," said the librarian, "Why did your dog just bite you?"

"Er, I had an itch there, I think," said the knight, recovering magnificently, "Yes, of course you're right. I'm blind."

"He even scratches your itches?" said the librarian in awe, "My word, they do train these dogs really well, don't they?"

"Yes, they do," said the knight trying to surreptitiously check if his thigh was bleeding without actually looking at it, "They become part of the family, they do."

"I'm sure," said the librarian who had, by now, thoroughly warmed up to the knight, "Look at him; it's almost as if he can understand every word we are saying."

"Er. Yes, he does give that impression sometimes," said the knight trying to figure out how to get the conversation back on track, "I needed a few books on dragons?"

"How will you read them?" asked the librarian, displaying that sharp intellect required for all the duties of your average librarian.

"They're for a friend," said the knight, improvising like mad for the first time in his life, "My friend will, err, read them to me."

"Where is your friend then? He's got time to read to you but not to help you find a book?" asked the librarian, once again employing that razor intelligence that was required to prevent people making off with the pens in the library, or to ensure that books were returned in the condition that they were borrowed.

"Er," said the knight awkwardly. "He's busy?" the knight ventured, hoping that this was the right answer. The librarian's response confirmed that it was, in this particular circumstance, the correct answer to give.

"You know," said the librarian, who was secretly delighted to learn that the 'friend' was indeed a 'he', "It's a shame how you people get treated by everyone else. You have to beg for their time, as if you weren't a real person at all." The knight coughed and remembered just in time to keep looking at the floor. "If you ever need some help," said the librarian with a coy smile, "Just pop on by here." The librarian flashed the knight an inviting smile which faded when she realised why it was he would require her help to read in the first place.

"Er," said the knight. This was fast becoming his most oft-used sentence in the library. "Dragons?"

"Oh, yes," replied the librarian, "What would you like? Stories about them?"

"Maybe." said the knight vaguely. He really did not know what exactly he was looking for, after all. Moodle hadn't exactly elaborated when he had pointed the knight to the library.

"Second floor," said the librarian in a professional manner, "Let me take you there."

Holding the knights elbow with every sign of pleasure the librarian lead the knight and Dog to the second floor.

"We have stories about," the librarian said after reviewing the shelves, "Shtor the Terrible. Tange the Noble. Fadle the Fierce. Scobu, the Scourge of Socurty. Waldo the Worried Dragon."

"I don't recognise any of those names," said the knight, "I've never heard of any of those dragons. Or those places."

"Well, you know, 'stories'," said the librarian, "Not necessarily real dragons."

"I was thinking more of, you know, real dragons. Where they come from, where they go, where they hide out. That sort of thing?" asked the knight hopefully, "Anything like that?"

"No, not really," said the librarian, "People like to read stories of action and heroes, etc."

"I've never been to Etset Arra either," said the knight carefully, "What if I wanted to find a dragon? What would be a good book to read in that case?"

"Where's Waldo?" asked the librarian tiredly, "I'm sorry sir, we have the best library in the kingdom..."

"Wait, there's another library?" asked the knight, forgetting his manners and cutting her off mid-sentence.

"Er, no."

"So when you say you have the best library you mean..." prompted the knight expectantly.

"Well, this is the only library," said the librarian wretchedly, "So of course, it must be the best!" She started leading the knight back downstairs with Dog close at their heels. "King Vletch decided that it would be good for the people of his kingdom to know about more than just planting potatoes and cabbages, so a few years ago he ordered the building of a library. He also instituted rules about teaching children to read."

"Rules?" asked the knight.

"Well, just one actually. They have to learn to read." said the librarian. They had reached the ground floor now, with the knight carefully studying the floor all the way. "Vletch wasn't always the nice place it is now, you know."

"It wasn't?" asked the knight.

"Oh no, in fact it was founded..." and here the librarian stopped. "You know," she said, "I'm due for a break round about now, if you want to know more about the Kingdom."

"Oh no! I don't want to be a bother..." the knight started but got no further.

"Oh, you got another itch?" asked the librarian, "That dog really is well-trained, isn't he?"

"Yes. Well-trained. That's what it is." said the knight ruefully rubbing his thigh, "In fact, now that I think about it I would love to hear more about the Kingdom."

The knight and the now very happy librarian retired to her office, the knight still studying the floor and limping only very slightly. Dog quietly fell back until the librarians office door closed. Only then did he bolt upstairs.

This was another throne room, in another castle, in another kingdom. An observer may have mistaken it for just another hall, for other than the ruler occupying the throne it had few of the ornamental items normally associated with throne rooms. The throne itself was simply a solid lump of wood with a carved out space for the occupying Wizard. The 'king' currently occupying this threadbare throne, who was formerly the Wizard of Dog's story, matched his furniture perfectly. His attire was all in plain matt black with a very professional black cape. In fact, had any observer been before this particular king, the observer would have been forgiven for mistaking the figure as an extremely tall and thin clerk who decided to try out the throne while the real king was out hunting foxes. "The men are ready, my Lord," said the courtier before the king, "Should I order the assembly?"

The wizard nodded and then finished his cup of wine. "And now," the wizard said, "I think it is time for the cats breakfast."

"As you wish, my Lord," the courtier bowed and rapidly disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. The wizard got up off his throne and, wielding a rather large staff, descended down the few steps that lead to the throne. He was, by royalty standards, rather less large than one might have expected. He was very tall, but very thin. Often kings and rulers attained their exalted positions by the expedient method of conquering a piece of land, and as this often involved honourable combat to the death with the owner of said land the survivors who won the crown were generally built like bears and similarly disposed. The wizard, now known as Lord Lenchen, however, had thought such a direct route to be entirely too demanding of ones health and well-being and had instead opted for the less direct but more effective poisons, charms, spells and various other bits of magic to gain the crown.

Besides, the rule that royalty seemed to obey is "What I killed for, I keep. If you want it back you'd better be able to kill me for it!", and this rule was passed down the royalties through the ages from hand to bloody hand. So, by the very rules of royalty, Lenchen felt quite entitled to his own kingdom, having gained it by killing, cursing and generally ensuring that everyone around him did as he told them to or died. Sometimes, someone would mistake the sparse figure and ascetic composure of the Wizard as a weakness, but when this happened it was usually a very short-lived mistake as they quickly underwent a very sudden and, for them, surprising death.

Surprisingly, for someone who was a power-grabbing dictator, Lenchen possessed no obvious power-trips. He didn't march into the town with a procession and expect people to bow to him. Indeed, he hardly noticed other people unless they got in his way. He never ordered feasting and banquets. He didn't exercise his droit de seigneur upon any of the maidens under his rule. He never gave himself airs. The most of his vanity that could be seen was the fastidiously trimmed goatee, always maintained to a respectable eighth of an inch. His clothing was always a muted black and the only concession he made to style was a black cape. His only affection seemed to be for his cat, which would often curl up near him (or on him, if he ever sat down. Cats love digging their claws into their owners, usually in a loving and affectionate manner).

This morning, with his freshly trimmed goatee and six foot staff, Lenchen strode through the castle to the courtyard. His men-at-arms were all lined up in neat rows by the commander. All of them were standing to attention to present themselves for the quick once over the wizard gave his troops every week. The army, which was a piddling 12-man affair under the previous ruler, had grown in the fertiliser of Lenchen's ambitions to 25 footmen and 10 mounted warriors. All 25 men stood to attention, while the 10 horsemen sat, as best as they could, to attention.

"ATTEN-SHUN!" barked the commander, "MEN, MOOOOVE OUT!" The tiny army promptly goose-stepped in place for five steps, then each man turned left and goose-stepped their way out the courtyard. The commander snapped to attention and saluted Lenchen, "My Lord," he said, "I beg to report that the men are ready, and able, and willing to follow your orders to the death."

"Yes?" said the wizard expectantly.

"My Lord, we need larger quarters, and more weapons, my Lord," said the Commander, "I've done as you requested, and while we are gaining in strength and numbers we need weapons to make the most of our low numbers. Even better, we would do well to recruit more men."

"I'll see what I can do," said the Wizard shortly, "Times are hard, Commander, and the people are taxed as high as we can go without them openly revolting. Where, pray tell Commander, will I find the money to expand your army?"

The Commander coughed, "Well, my Lord, if I knew what the purpose of this army is I may be better placed to train the men. Defending the castle requires very different training from gaining or defending an outpost. Perhaps," and here the Commander lowered his voice slightly, "My Lord could share with me the purpose of this army?"

"No," said Lenchen, "Your Lord would not do that." He leaned in closer to the Commander before continuing, "Just be warned, Commander, that my delight with your performance would in no way hinder me expressing my wrath for your insolence. You aren't here to ask questions. Just train the men, and train them well." The Wizard spun on his heels and walked away, his cape flapping briefly.

"Well, boys," said the Commander to his five sergeants minutes later in the training yard, "We still don't know and he's made it clear that I'm not to ask again."

"You do realise, sir," said one of the sergeants, "That this is madness! We don't even know what it is we are training to attack!"

"Yeah," said another, "We'll be going into battle blind not knowing who it is we are fighting."

"Maybe we're to be used when he raises taxes again." said another sergeant in disgust.

"No, I don't think so," said the Commander, "He did say that the taxes could not be raised any further." The raising of taxes and increased revenue for the Ruler was one of the first acts of government that was performed by Lenchen upon taking office. The body of the previous monarch had hardly any time to cool before the increased taxes were announced. The subsequent outpouring of grief for the death of the previous Monarch was, by every measurable standard, extremely torrential.

"Besides," continued the Commander, "I don't think we'd be any good against the townspeople anyway. There are... what? Perhaps 200 grown men?"

"But they aren't armed," said one of the sergeants.

"They are, my lad, "said the Commander kindly, "What good do you think your three foot sword will be against the six foot scythes of the farmers? Hmm?"

"We all have bows," said a sergeant, "Every last man of ours, armed with a bow. Now what kind of an army has every man armed with a bow and a sword? Perhaps he'll have us hunt pheasants when the farmers get tired of the taxes and simply leave. After all, what use will five squadrons of five men be to any attacking force. The very thought of such an odd grouping of men will leave others laughing at us."

"Enough now," said the Commander who had privately wondered the very same thing, "I think you should all round up your men. Perhaps if we train really well we'll have a chance against whoever it is Lord Lenchen is expecting to attack."

"Yeah, fine chance we'll have," said one of the sergeants to another as they each went off back to regroup their squadrons in the training yard, "They'll take one look at a regiment of five men and die laughing."

Back in the castle, the Wizard had descended into the castle cellars. This was where he still prepared all his magic, although it had been more than a few years since he'd had to use any magic. The very public display of magic that he had used in gaining the throne and crown had, in addition to killing the previous monarch, also sent strong messages about the Wizards magical power throughout the small kingdom. No one, not even the real heir to the throne who had long since gone into exile, had attempted to dispute the Wizards claim to the throne after that first strong display of magic. People preferred having beating hearts to having the correct ruler. Anyway, for the ordinary person on the farm, who was actually in charge didn't really matter. Kings and Princes came and went, but the harvest was there every year. As far as the farmers were concerned, the seasons were actually in charge. As far as the soldiers were concerned, the man with the big stick and killer magic was in charge. As far as Lenchen was concerned, the magic was in charge, all he had to do was direct it. This he did via his many experiments in the castle cellars.

Not that he had to work alone; every evil mastermind has a queue of impressionable young men waiting to be the right-hand man. One such apprentice was currently performing experiments with magnets and copper rods. Magnets in the world were rare. Often considered magical by lay folk, to the disgust of actual wizards and witches, they were employed in a variety of entertainment acts by the travelling performers who routinely went around the lands and entertained children. The entertainers repertoire usually included puppet shows and singing troupes, but occasionally they had non-magical magic practitioners who made coins appear from children's ears, and watches vanish from womens purses. Using a magnet to levitate a piece of metal was usually quite a crowd-pleaser. Lenchen, however, was no crowd and was thus less than pleased to discover an apprentice playing with everyday ordinary natural occurrences.

"That's just a rock," he was fond of saying about magnets, "The most useful thing you can do with it is throw it at someone." He despised magnets, often saying "A rock that's sticky to metal is simply a mistake of nature. Do not waste my time with it." This morning his teeth clenched at the sight of the apprentice playing with what he considered to be a useless toy. Quietly he crossed the cellar to where the apprentice was engrossed in the magnet. He stood watching for a moment before asking softly, "And what do we have here? Hmm? Is this a magnet, my boy?"

The apprentice froze at the sound of his voice. He lifted his head from the workbench and said apologetically, "Sorry my Lord, I found this really, err, very... interesting."

"A mistake of nature is 'Interesting'?" the wizard queried, still speaking softly lest he disturb the other apprentices at work in the cellars. Not that it would have made any difference anyway, for all them, down to the last boy, was aware of Lenchen's Views regarding magnets, and so every single one of them had their head bent upon their own tasks at hand while ensuring that they did not hear the screams once they came.

"Yes my Lord," the boy was almost blubbering now, "You see my Lord, it has special effects on copper. I thought you'd want this particular effect, my Lord." The boy was almost pleading for mercy now, and the Wizard magnanimously decided to grant the unasked-for mercy.

"My boy, I assure you that magnets have no effect on copper. They effect iron, and some steel alloys, but have no attraction whatsoever to copper." The Wizard smiled, knowing full well that his many experiments with magnets revealed absolutely no attraction to copper.

"It's not an attraction, my Lord." the boy was a little braver now; he hadn't been turned into a frog just yet, so things were going better than he had expected. "It's something else," the boy continued, and indicated half a dozen dead mice on his workbench. "I don't know what it's called." he added finally.

The Wizard was silent for a moment, staring at the dead mice. He picked one up and examined it in detail. There was not a single mark on it. No bruise, no scratches, nothing. He was perplexed. He carefully reached out a hand towards the copper rod in the centre of the experiment and jumped when a small spark leaped from the rod to his hand. He thought for a moment before turning to smile broadly at the apprentice. "What is your name, my boy?" he asked the shivering figure in front of him.

"Lectrac," the apprentice answered.

"Mr Lectrac," the Wizard continued warmly, "You and I have some talking to do."
  1. ###

"Well?" said Cat the minute Dog appeared at the top of the stairwell, "Where's the knight?"

"He's being entertained," said Dog, "Moodle's clue turned out useless after all." Dog sighed, "This library only has folk tales about Dragons."

Cat cocked her head at Dog, "What do you mean 'entertained'? Weren't we supposed to be hot on the tail of a Dragon?"

"He's finding out about the history of this place." Dog replied.

"How will that help?" asked Cat, "It's a town, with farms on the outside and a palace in the middle. Not that different from other towns, come to think of it."

Dog sighed again. "I don't know," he admitted, "But it is possible that we learn something at least." Dog thought for a moment before asking, "Tell me, Cat, you've been here a long time, right?"

"Right." said Cat distractedly. Her ears had picked up the tiny noises that the mice were making.

"How long?" asked Dog.

"What?" asked Cat, still distracted by the sound and scent of mice.

"How long have you been here, Cat?" asked Dog patiently.

"I don't really know. Seems like forever, because, well, Cat-Years are different from Human-Years." Cat said.

"So, you were here before the Library was built?"

"Perhaps," said Cat, finally paying attention, "It's hard to tell. I'm a cat, I climb things that are in my way. I don't remember whether this library was here when I first got here."

"When did you first get here?"

"Don't know," said Cat. "Look, what's this about? I never made a note of the date when I came to this city, it just happened, and one day I found myself here and decided to stay."

Dog said nothing.

"I wandered a lot around the countryside before I got here, I know that much." added Cat helpfully.

"I think," said Dog, "That it might be a good idea to find out more about this place."

"I thought your knight was already doing that." said Cat.

"Yes, well, you know," said Dog wretchedly, "He's not very good at... you know, investigating things."

"Well, how do we find out more, then?" said Cat, "We can't very well go asking the tour guides for brochures about Vletch, you know."

"We're in a library, right?" said Dog, "We're standing in a building filled with information, in a room filled with books. What we need to do is find the correct book."

"I can't read." said Cat helpfully.

"I know," said Dog, walking off. A quick scan of the shelves told him he was in the Geology section. "Follow me," he ordered Cat, and strode off. It took him less than five minutes to find the section that dealt with local history. "Cat," said Dog, staring at a volume on a particularly high shelf, "Think you can climb up there?"

Cat gave him a glare with blades in it, "What do you mean, think? I'm a pretty good cat, I'll have you know!" She leaped lightly onto the lowest shelf before continuing, "That's a fine insult to throw to someone who's trying to help you. Especially," and Cat leaped again to a higher shelf, "When you're a canine who probably chased his own tail when he was a puppy!" Dog ignored the verbal barbs that rained down from Cat's ever ascending voice. Cat finally reached the topmost shelf. "Which book was it? This one?" asked Cat, pointing to a book on the shelf.

"No, the one next to it," replied Dog, "I'd tell you the colour if I knew what it was." A book fell next to Dog, who regarded it before turning up to face Cat again, "Next to it, on the other side, please?" Another book fell next to Dog. Dog satisfied himself that it was the correct one and turned his muzzle upwards one last time, "Thank you Cat, you have been very helpful. You'd better come back down here in case I need your help again."

Cat, suitably mollified by Dog's gratitude, leaped from shelf to shelf until she was back down on the floor, next to Dog who had already pawed the book open and was reading silently. "Anything useful?" asked Cat.

"Not useful, no, but... Did you know," said Dog, "That our King Vletch, the one in the palace, may not be the hereditary heir to the throne?"

"What?"

"Well, you see," said the Librarian, whose name was Anea, "Back in those days, if a queen failed to produce any heirs for the king, well... the king would simply produce the heirs somewhere else." They were seated in Anea's study, a small room adjoining the main library building.

"So, the current King Vletch, his mum was not royalty?" asked the knight. "His still half royal, though, right? That gives him the throne anyway."

"When there are no heirs," said Anea carefully, "That's not always the fault of the queen. Our previous King, lovely old boy that he was, he'd had a very... err... unfortunate hunting accident before his marriage, with injuries that prevented him from fulfilling certain... err... 'marital obligations'". Anea was quite pink in the face now, but the knight ignored it; after all, he was pretending to be blind. "So, of course," Anea continued, "It was a very, very long time after the wedding before the queen found herself in a... well... delicate situation."

"Oh" said the knight, "His injuries took a long time to heal? I think I understand."

"I don't think that you do," said Anea carefully, "Try thinking of it in terms of fruit; once you cut open an apple, you can't put it back together again."

"Or perhaps," said the knight trying to show willing contribution to the conversation, "Once you break an egg you can't glue it together again?"

"Quite so," said Anea after a short and embarrassing (to her, anyway) pause, "In many ways, that is a much more accurate analogy." She took a sip of coffee.

"So, no eggs then," continued the knight oblivious to the Librarians sudden embarrassment, "Not until more laying is done."

Anea coughed on her coffee. She sputtered helplessly for a little while before her composure returned. "Well, to return to the story..."

"Yes?" said the knight.

"It seems," said Dog, upstairs in the library, "That maybe our King Vletch had a daddy whose name was not 'Vletch'." He read a little more before speaking again, "The records aren't exactly clear on how the Queen got a child. It says here that some magic was involved."

Cat stopped grooming herself long enough to ask, "Isn't that always the case when a married woman meets some passing stranger? It's always 'magic' or something, never 'I've got all the self-control of rainwater' or anything honest." Dog ignored her and continued reading. "Why," asked Cat, "Didn't our King Vletch ask his mum who his dad was?"

"Er," said Dog, "Says here that she died soon after giving birth."

"Does it say what she died off?" asked Cat.

"No," replied Dog, "Just says she died, that's all."

"Ah," said Cat wisely, "Old King Vletch was one of those real old-fashioned kings."

"Real kings?"

"Well, you know; the ones who didn't quite hesitate to cut off their wife's head."

"It doesn't say that in this book," said Dog doubtfully, "How can you be sure that he killed her?"

"Listen," said Cat, "What do you think happens when a man who can't sire children suddenly finds his wife producing children? Think he's going to be pleased about it? And this is no ordinary man, but one of great wealth and power." Cat paused for dramatic effect and licked a paw. "Mark my words," she continued ominously, "There was probably an 'accident'... and that was the end of the poor old Queen."

"That doesn't make any sense," said the knight, down in the librarian's study, "If he was unhappy about the whole thing, wouldn't he have also gotten rid of the child, instead of letting the child finally inherit the throne?"

"So maybe he wasn't upset, and she just died from illness?" said Anea, "After all, no one really knows what happened to the old king and his wife."

"Hang on," said the knight, "Both of them died?"

"No," replied Anea, "The queen died. No one knows how, but she did die. There was a funeral and everything. The king simply... disappeared. One day he was here, running things as usual, the next morning he was gone. The child was about ten years old at that time. For the next eight years governance was carried out by the courts, and then the child turned 18 and became the current King. That was about... maybe ten years ago."

"There's a little more," said Dog, "Nothing all that important. Our King Vletch turned out very civic-minded. Built the library, tried to get people educated, etc. Very keen on hunting, too, it says here. Enacted a few new laws too, it says here."

"He holds a general holiday every year," said Anea, "Fun and games, we decorate the city, hold a hunting party, all that. Children play hide and seek, etc."

"Oh, so some of them hide in the library too?" asked the knight politely.

"Oh dear me, no," said Anea laughing a little, "This area is off-limits. King Vletch even made a law about that. Complete separation from the state. He says that 'The Government Must Never Indoctrinate The People In The Name Of Education', so the library is off-limits to any search and exploration party. Children are welcome here, but only on the ground floor where we can keep an eye on them."

"Yes, I see, I see," said the knight, making a mental note to look up the meaning of 'Indoctrinate'. "Adults go upstairs then?"

"That's odd," said Cat, "Why would a king build a library and then ensure that children are stuck on the ground floor? Surely some of them can read well enough to read the other books?"

Dog was quiet and thoughtful for a little while. It wasn't just children who were forbidden from ascending the library. He eventually asked, "How high is this building, would you say?"

Cat yawned, "Don't know. Why not get another book? One with pictures, this time, please? I can read pictures quite nicely, you know."

Anea had brewed them both more coffee. This was a long story, at least two coffee's long and, if Anea could manage it, a further dinner and coffee longer.

"So," said the knight politely, "How long have you been working here?"

"Since the library was built," replied Anea, sipping her coffee. "About ten years, now. I'm the first librarian in the history of Vletch, you know. I was just 14 when I started here." She added with a touch of pride. The knight didn't know that, and he said so. Anea continued her story, "The library was designed by King Vletch himself. Even without the tower, it's the tallest building in Vletch. They say that you can see almost three full leagues from the top of it. On a clear day, that is. Of course, because it's so high the tower is almost always surrounded by clouds." Her eyes went dreamy for a moment, "It looks so serene and peaceful, lying among clouds like cotton wool. Like a bed in the heavens, really."

"Can you?" asked the knight.

"Can I what?" asked Anea with a trace of hope. Things, she thought, are finally starting to look up.

"Can you really see three leagues from the top of it?" asked the knight, thinking how helpful this knowledge would have been had they known it when searching the countryside. It would have been nice to search the countryside from indoors.

"I don't know," said Anea with such self-control that only a hint of frustration showed through, "I've never been up there."

"You've been here daily for the last ten years and you haven't been inside the tower?" asked the knight in disbelief, "Why not?"

"Well," said Anea, "Firstly, there are no stairs to the top – the tower is simply for cosmetic purposes. And secondly, King Vletch has made it off-limits anyway. Something about it being unsafe because the wind at that height was too heavy. In the end the building was completed, builder was paid and the sculptor was sent away."

"What sculptor?" asked the knight.

"The one who did the sculpture at that top of the tower," replied Anea.

"Wait, what?" asked the knight, "What sculpture?"

Upstairs, Dog and Cat had found and fetched another book, one with pictures of the highlights of the city. At least, Dog had found it and Cat had fetched it. Dog refrained from making a small joke about a cat who knew how to fetch. He was much too used to the way of life offered by possessing unclawed eyeballs. Cat, for her part, refrained from mentioning her previous sarcastic comment about getting a tour guides help.

"What are we looking for now?" asked Cat, as Dog pawed through each page in the extremely wide and thick book.

"A picture of this library." replied Dog.

"Why?" asked Cat, "Didn't you get a good look when we walked in?"

"Don't talk to me about observational skills, Cat," said Dog seriously. "You've been here for years and don't even know how old this building is. Anyway," he continued, "I want to see how big this building is." Dog paused in the act of turning the pages. He slowly breathed out. "Cat, come on over here and look at this." he said. Cat padded around the open book to see what Dog was pointing at.

"Will you look at that," she said with the uniquely feline satisfaction that only cats seemed to manage, "Well, well."

"I know," Dog replied. Behind him, his tail slowly wagged from side to side. He was obviously very happy.

"Well, the top of the library has a very detailed and realistic sculpture," Anea answered the knight. "King Vletch himself ordered it done. It was completed fully in the palace and later lifted onto the tower with levers and pulleys after the tower was completed. They got it mounted in a single night, which is pretty impressive if you ask me. Massive, monstrous thing, it is."

"Is that so?" asked the knight slowly, "Tell me, my Lady, more of this sculpture..."

Dog and Cat stared at the book, which was open to a page that had a picture of the library. The artist was very meticulous about getting the colours and shades just right, as it all seemed very realistic. The library was painted against the background of an overcast day, with a single ray of light from parting clouds lighting up the entrance. The artist's attention to detail got in every tiny facet of the library; he'd realistically painted each brick in the walls, and every latch on every window. He'd gone to the trouble of colouring the sky with innumerable shades of red, purple, blue, green and grey. He'd taken pains to show the shadows on the walls that were cast from the birds circling the tower. It looked as if he had painstakingly recreated every characteristic of the tower, including the tiny bugs in the ledges, and the birds nesting in the eaves, and the hint of dew on the walls, and the bloody great Dragon coiled around the tower, sculpted in stone.

It was early dusk a few days later in the Kingdom of Lenchen, and the farmers were all done for the day. The men usually gathered for a drink and a bit of gossip at the only pub in the village once a week, on the day before the day of rest. Beer was brewed the entire week, and today's vintage in the pub was exactly seven days old. Several conversations were in the air, and almost all of them were of the same subject. For once, the villagers were not moaning about the crippling taxes (which, they neglected to note, never crippled their ability to float in beer once a week). The topic of discussion was the curious activity at Lenchen's castle.

The last week had seen strange happenings at the castle, and even stranger requests from the apprentices came to the villagers. Mostly, it seemed, the apprentices wanted more mice, and in some cases rats.

"I know what his Lordship is needing all these mice for," opined one old-timer called Tom, in a voice like a band saw, "His Lordship is gonna turn them all into 'orses, just like that what happened in that there kingdom nine leagues from 'ere. I 'eard it all from my brother-in-law what got it from a man in the pub. Some lady with wings and a wand was the one what did it!"

"Why'd he need to go and do that for?" asked another old-timer, "I hear his Lordship doesn't even ride a horse."

"Whats 'e riding then? Broomsticks?" asked Tom, in all seriousness.

"Shush, Tom, he'll have you in chains for that kind of talk," said Selda the barmaid to the drunk farmer. Selda often worried about the loose talk the men enjoyed when they were, as her mum used to put it, "in their cups". "You go on making fun at his Lordship and we'll all be crying at your funeral," she added.

"Well, whats 'e wanting mice for if 'e aint gonna ride them, then?" asked Tom, "Stands to reason, innit? If I asked for a mouse I'm damn well gonna ride the thing, aint I?"

The group at the pub, in various states of sobriety, pondered this. To the alcohol-fueled thought process Tom's line of reasoning was persuasive. The more sober components of the audience found it hard to swallow.

"How'd you intend riding a mouse, then, Tom?" asked a young man called Bert, "They a bit small for you, aint they?"

"I 'eard about it, I did," said Tom gravely, only slurring some of his words, "What you do, see, is you get a wand, and then you turn those mice into 'orses until midnight... right?" Tom stared at the two images of Bert in front of him trying to decide which one to address.

Bert took advantage of Tom's sudden break as an indication that Tom was finished with his argument and continued, "Where'd you get a wand, Tom?"

"And why," someone else in the pub asked in a loud this-is-me-drunk voice, "Is it only until midnight? Why not turn 'em into horses in the day? That way we can set them to work the fields while we sit in here and listen to you gab on about mice with saddles."

The pub erupted into laughter at that, although to be fair it wasn't very funny. To be really honest, it wasn't funny at all, but the beauty of alcohol is that it allows you to laugh at some unmitigated buffoon while he thinks that you're laughing at his joke.

"It's not just mice," said Tom, trying to carry the weight of his argument without falling down, although the beer was making both tasks difficult, "After the mice 'ave been turned into 'orses, err..." Tom stopped and thought for awhile, "I think," he said slowly, "That they turn a carriage into a pumpkin and put glass shoes on the 'orses." He thought a little bit more, "But only until midnight," he finished. He took another gulp of his beer.

"That doesn't sound very smart," said Hoeken, the village blacksmith. "I'm sure that wouldn't work. The glass'd break, for one."

"For one what?" asked Tom.

"Step?" suggested Bert.

"No, glass is..." began Hoeken.

"It's doesn't matter, all right," Tom cut Hoeken off mid-sentence, feeling that perhaps a digression into the technicalities of horse-shoeing would hardly be beneficial to the point he was trying to make. "My point is, " he began, and then waited until the alcohol fumes in his head cleared enough for him to see his point. "My point is, y'see, his Lordship is doin' all this, this... this..." Tom tried again, punctuating every 'this' with a gesture of his glass and in the process showering a lot of the other guests with beer, "This... Black Magic! Like that old lady with the wand, turning carriages into pumpkins and making glass 'orse-shoes. This canna end well for us, you'll see ol' Tom was right in the end."

"Well," said Bert, "I don't think that Lenchen tried to hide from us that he was doing black magic. After all, that's how he got the crown, isn't it?"

"And the horse would break 'em just standing in place," added Hoeken helpfully.

"What?" asked Bert, slightly confused and wondering just how much he'd had to drink.

"The glass shoes," said Hoeken, "They wouldn't work. They'd break."

"Ah, right," said Bert. He tried to return the conversation to it's roots, as in the strange requests from Lenchen,. "We still don't know what he needs the mice for, though."

"For 'orses," said Tom.

"And it'll be pretty noisy too, you know," said Hoeken.

"Eh?" said Bert helplessly, "What will be pretty noisy?"

"The glass horse shoes," said Hoeken, gazing into his now-finished mug, "You'd never go anywhere without a thumping great noise."

"I'd bet they'd make a lot less noise if you put 'em on the mice," said Tom, "I mean, instead of putting 'em on 'orses you could put 'em on mice and they'd not make much noise."

"Yeah," said Hoeken thoughtfully, "And, mice... you know... they aren't so heavy, so the glass shoes, they wouldn't necessarily break, right?"

"That's what his Lordship must need them mice for," said Tom triumphantly, "He didn't ask us for 'orses 'cos of course he knew that they'd break the glass shoes!"

"What?" said Bert, unable to keep up with thought at the speed of alcohol.

"Hey, it makes sense when he puts it like that," said Hoeken. "I'd reckon this is a settled matter now." he added before ordering another mug of beer.

"Yeah," said Tom, "He needs them mice 'cos the glass shoes would break on 'orses." Tom smiled widely; solving the puzzle of the castle proved easier than he'd thought it would be.

Bert was not entirely swayed by the argument though, even after having another five mugs of beer. As the town's only scribe, reader and writer he was considered to be something of an intellectual by the entire village. He could spell long words, sometimes even on the first try. He was frequently used during his service as post-master at the post-office to read the occasional letter or newspaper that made its way to the town. And this meant that Bert had heard more of the rest of the world than the rest of the village, which meant that he'd know about it if some lady was going around turning mice into horses.

At the end of the night Bert was still slightly troubled by the sudden and inexplicable need for mice. The castle had had enough mice until now, and the previous ruler used to pay to have them caught and removed. Paying to bring mice into a castle, notwithstanding Tom's elliptical arguments, was not something that castle-owners regularly did. Not even if they were crazy. And as far as Bert was concerned, Lenchen was anything but crazy.

Mr Lectrac had been promoted. He was still in two minds about whether this was a good thing or not. The biggest trouble a mere underling could get into would still be less than the smallest trouble a supervisor could get into. He remembered what had happened to a supervisor of the apprentices last year. An apprentice working on the thorny problem of turning straw into gold had, apparently, failed to materialise any gold after vanishing an extraordinary amount of straw. His supervisor was never seen or heard from again. This worried Lectrac, as the bumbling fool of an apprentice who vanished the straw was only whipped, and at that it was only a single stroke that he received by accident when Lenchen had lashed out his staff in anger at the supervisor and missed. Lectrac's worries hadn't abated with the incredible progress he had made with the copper rods.

Lectrac might have received some comfort in knowing that Lenchen was actually very pleased with his work. Lectrac had the use of three apprentices and a larger workshop in the cellars and Lenchen's full blessing to investigate this as far as he wanted to. Today Lectrac was presenting a progress report to Lenchen. They were in the throne room and some equipment had been assembled over the last hour. Apparently no mice were needed for this demonstration. Lenchen had watched silently, stroking the cat that was curled up and asleep on his lap. Finally they were done.

It was a strange contraption indeed. A large and extremely thick length of copper coiled around a large cylinder was the most distinguishing feature, but it had other oddities as well. All the magnetic material that could be found on short notice had been formed into the cylinder that barely fitted inside the copper coil, and was currently suspended on a rod inside the copper coil. Strange gears and mechanisms and levers could be seen coming out from the contraption. Two long handles protruded from either side of the machine while two long copper rods about a hands width apart extended from the front of the machine. The overall threatening appearance of the machine was somewhat spoilt by a rubber sheath over each of the rods.

"Tell me," said Lenchen when it became clear that the demonstration was about to begin, "Is it safe to sit directly in front of that thing?" Lenchen indicated the two sheathed rods. Lectrac stood up from the last minute changes he was making inside the machine and followed Lenchen's pointing finger to the copper rods.

"Of course, my Lord," said Lectrac, slightly breathless from his exertions on the machine, "I assure you that this is all perfectly safe." Lectrac paused while he thought of an appropriate analogy, "In fact, my Lord, I calculate that this is no more dangerous than riding a horse."

"Hmm," said Lenchen, "You realise, my boy, that this very morning Hoeken the blacksmith was thrown from his horse, breaking his clavicle?"

"Er," squeaked Lectrac uncomfortably.

"Seems the old fool was experimenting with toughened-glass horse-shoes," Lenchen continued, "But please, forgive my interruption, by all means continue." Lectrac and his apprentices bent to the machine once again, and barely five minutes later Lectrac announced that he was ready to begin.

"My Lord," Lectrac started on an obviously prepared speech, "We have made significant discoveries." Lectrac stopped abruptly, having forgotten his speech. "My Lord," He tried again and got even less into his speech than before. Lectrac broke out into a slight sweat. Lenchen smiled inwardly and decided to put Lectrac out of his misery.

"Mr Lectrac, "said Lenchen in a very formal and businesslike manner, "I've decided to put you out of your misery."

"What?" Lectrac whimpered a little.

"Instead of you telling me all about your hard work and no doubt remarkable discoveries, I will simply ask you questions and then you can answer them. I fear that your oratory abilities are no match for your technical ones." Lectrac looked relieved at this. His prepared speech had fled his mind completely. Lenchen continued, "Before I ask any questions, my boy, why don't you just start your machine so we can see what it does."

Wordlessly Lectrac indicated to two of his apprentices to grasp the handles sticking out of the machine. Each apprentice started turning their respective handles. The magnetic cylinder in the middle of the copper coil started rocking back and forth, slowly at first and then faster as the apprentices built up momentum on their handles. Faster and faster they spun, and as their speed increased, the magnetic cylinder rocked back and forth ever faster. A low hum filled the room. Lenchen was surprised to find himself spellbound by the machine, and was even more surprised to find that he had goosebumps running down his arms. Faster still the apprentices spun their handles, and faster did the magnetic cylinder rock back and forth within the copper coil, and louder did the machine hum, until eventually when it seemed that the cylinder could move no faster, Lectrac leaped forward and in one movement snatched both of the rubber sheaths from the tips of both the copper rods. A blue-white spark, as bright as a miniature sun, flared into existence between the two rods.

The apprentices continued spinning, and the spark hung in space, writhing between the two copper rods and crackling with energy. Lectrac smiled. Lenchen stared. The apprentices sweated. The spark popped and crackled. Lenchen took a deep breath and finally broke the silence with his first question, "Tame lightning?"

  2. ###

"You realise that you are asking me to do something illegal, don't you?" Cat asked Dog and the knight. They were at their evening session in the knight's quarters, and had already finished their dinner. Moodle had tried to make conversation with the knight for a little while after collecting the empty dinner dishes, but had eventually given up and disappeared down the passage mumbling to himself. Cat was perched on the chair back as usual, the knight was at the table and Dog was sitting in front of the fire.

"Come on, Cat!" exclaimed the knight in frustration, "It's not that hard, you do it all the time."

"Yes," added Dog, "Only difference is, this time you take a rope up with you when you climb the library, and instead of simply entering the library on one of the upper floors, you go all the way up into the tower and tie the rope onto something."

"No," Cat replied calmly, licking a paw. "After all," Cat addressed Dog and the knight, "When I said I'd help you in your quest I didn't expect to become the worlds first feline felon."

"That's a little melodramatic, isn't it?" asked Dog, "After all, it's not like we're asking you to steal something, right? Just looking around is for free, it's not a crime." Dog cleared his throat and addressed Cat in tones of what he hoped sounded like humility, "We don't intend to take anything, and we won't steal anything either. We'd simply like to have a look at that statue of the dragon."

"You have a picture of it," pointed out Cat.

"Yes, well," said the knight, "It's not really the same thing, is it? There may be a clue up there."

"But," replied Cat, "The only thing you'll find is the short end of a noose if Vletch's guards catches you at it. I'm too young to be put to sleep."

"You sleep all the time anyway," said the knight tactlessly, "It amazes me how often you need to nap."

"You aren't helping," snapped Dog, uncharacteristically annoyed. Cat was impressed; she had never seen Dog lose his cool before. Dog was almost superhumanly (or super-doggedly) good at being rational and logical, and he never, ever lost his temper. Cat sighed.

"Look," she said, "I want to help you as much as the next cat..."

"We aren't asking you to help the next cat," the knight broke in, "We want you to help us, please?"

"Like I was saying," Cat continued, not even a little miffed at the knights continuing lack of tact, "As much as I want to help, you two must know that Vletch very definitely doesn't want anyone going up there. When someone makes a law about something, you can be sure that they aren't messing about. He's made it quite clear that no one is to go dancing around in his library tower."

"That's all the more reason to believe that there are clues up there," replied Dog, "He's hiding something, and he even left a clue to what is hidden by carving a great big dragon on top of the place. You've got to help us."

"Well, why should I? What's in it for me?" asked Cat, "All I see is a great deal of trouble for me, and nothing to gain even if we don't get caught."

"Listen," said Dog urgently, "When you heard our story, you told us that we were selfish. Remember? You said that we did bad things, and that we deserved what was done to us, remember? You said that we aren't trying to right a wrong, but that we're doing the right thing now for the wrong reasons, that we're trying to help free the last dragon-egg only so that we can help ourselves. Remember saying all that, Cat?" Cat looked uncomfortable at this prodding of her memory. She remembered what she had told the pair. Dog went on, "Now, Cat, who's being selfish? Eh? You want to know what's in it for you? Well how about this – if we succeed, and we find the dragon, and we hatch the egg, and we get the hatchling to help us... how about this, then..." Dog paused for breath before finishing the question, "How about, instead of getting the hatchling to help us, instead of using that magic to turn me back into a human and to turn Dane back into a dog... how about I use up that magic to turn you back into a human." Dog was panting now. The knight was quiet. "Now you know," said Dog, "Now you know, this is what is in it for you." Dog had gotten to his feet during this speech, and now he turned tail and silently left the room.

"He's a bit of a drama queen, isn't he?" Cat remarked to the knight, "Where's he off to now? Going walkies?

"He's upset," said the knight sadly, "But now you have it; we'll use the magic to help you, not us. That's your payment, Cat." The knight stood up and stretched, "And now I think that it is time we all went to bed. It's been a long day, and I think all of us could do with some rest." He made his way to the bed.

Cat said nothing; for the first time in her life she had been shamed into not making a catty remark. She jumped down onto the seat cushion and curled up. The knight started snoring. Dog entered the room an hour later and curled up in front of the fire. At midnight, Cat stood up, stretched and then inaudibly padded out of the room. The night continued on towards morning.

Morning arrived, as it always did, and found the trio in their room very quietly breaking their fast. Uncharacteristically, there was no banter between them. It was Dog who eventually broke the silence. "I think," he said after his meal was complete, "That we should make our move well after sundown. We don't want to run the risk of being seen breaking into the library."

"I don't think that it's ever guarded," said the knight, "After all, who'd be insane enough to want to break into a library?"

"Academia nuts?" quipped Cat. She was in a very good mood this morning. Her claws were retracted, metaphorically speaking.

"Be serious, will you, Cat?" said Dog tiredly, "I doubt King Vletch will take kindly to his guests breaking into official state buildings. This could go very bad if we are caught."

"Hey, I'll be the one taking the risk, you know," replied Cat, "I'm the one who might get caught breaking in. You know what the penalty is for being a Cat burglar?"

"Enough with the jokes," Dog said, with a shadow of a growl in his voice. He was obviously less friendly towards Cat since yesterday. "We agreed to pay you for your help, remember?"

"I remembered more than I wanted to," Cat replied meekly, "And I'm very sorry for my selfishness yesterday."

"Good!" Dog replied stiffly.

"And, you needn't to waste your only wish on me," Cat said, "I'll help you anyway."

"What?" said the knight.

"I said," replied Cat slightly louder, "I'll help you anyway, no payment necessary!"

"So, you'll climb the library tonight and take a rope up with you?" asked Dog.

"Not necessarily," said Cat.

"Wait, you just said..." Dog began in annoyance, but was cut off by Cat.

"I've already been up in the tower."

"What? When?" asked the knight.

"Last night. After you two fell asleep." Cat paused to lick a stray scrap of food from a claw, "I took a rope up, and tied it to the top of the tower as well, so you can climb up it tonight and have a look. Although there really is no need to do that."

"Really?" said Dog. If his face was built for it, it would have had a smile. As it was, his tail twitched slightly.

"I wouldn't get too happy if I were you," Cat continued, "You're not going to like what you find at the top."

"Why, what did you find?" asked the knight. He was also very clearly excited about the progress made.

"Nothing," said Cat.

"Nothing?" asked Dog.

"Nothing at all."

"What about the dragon statue?" asked the knight, "Surely you must have seen it up close?"

"No, I didn't," said Cat, "It wasn't there."

"What do you mean it wasn't there?" asked the knight.

"Slow down," said Dog, "We saw the picture of the tower, and it had this dragon statue. And Dane here confirmed with Ms Lovestruck at the library that the library tower has a perfectly sculpted dragon statue. Everyone knows that it's there. People have seen it, you know, on clear days, when the clouds are gone."

"I don't know what 'people' have seen," said Cat archly, "What I know is that when I went up there last night with a rope, the statue was gone."

"How can it just 'go'?" asked the knight, "Eighty tons of carved rock doesn't simply just stand up and walk away, you know."

"I knew this troll once..." Cat began.

"Never mind your troll," interrupted Dog, "Did you leave the rope still attached to the top of the tower?"

"Of course," sad Cat, "It was too much work to bring it back down."

"Wait, there's a rope hanging from the top of the tower?" asked the knight. "There's this rope hanging down from the top of this place that the King specifically forbade anyone from going into, and as we sit here it's still there hanging there for all the world to see?"

"Of course not," said Cat crossly, "I'm not a fool, you know. I coiled it at the top of the tower so that no one will ever see it again. And that includes us, unless you still want to go into the tower."

"Still," said the knight, "You have gone and left evidence at the scene of a crime. If you had never left the rope behind, no one ever would ever had known that anyone ever had never been in the tower with someone, ever!" Cat tried to figure out what this labyrinthine sentence actually meant, then gave up and simply went on the offensive to defend her point of view, namely that non-climbing beings such as Dogs-turned-into-Humans shouldn't be berating those skilled in the altitude crafts for ascending to new heights.

Dog remained silent and thoughtful while Cat and the knight debated the forensic investigative abilities of King Vletch's guards and whether feline paw-prints constituted 'identification beyond all reasonable doubt'. What Dog was thinking was not much different from what the knight had just said. While Dog was certain that tons of rock will not simply stand up and walk away in the middle of the night, he was not so certain that it wouldn't simply fly away. Dog thought about this some more, and the more he thought about it the more sure he became of himself. "Listen you two, cut that out, we have more work to do," he told the bickering pair. "We're going up there tonight, well after midnight. Maybe even closer to dawn." Dog turned to Cat, "You'll have to go up there and let the rope down for us, you know."

"Sure," Cat replied, "But you can trust me when I say that there is no dragon statue on the top of the tower."

"I trust you," said Dog, and then said something almost inaudible under his breath. He stood up, "I'll see you all this afternoon; I need to go for a walk now."

"Yes," said the knight as Dog left the room, "I thought that the food was rather spicy this morning."

"I don't think he needs that type of a 'walk'," said Cat once Dog was out of earshot, " I think he has an idea and just wants to go for a walk to think about it."

"What was it he said just now?" asked the knight, "After saying that he trusts you?"

"He said," said Cat, "quote 'I doubt that there ever was' unquote"

"He doesn't think there was ever a dragon on top of the tower?"

"I think so," said Cat, "Although if he doesn't think that there was ever a dragon statue on the tower, then he must have a really good explanation for why everyone can see a dragon statue on the tower." Cat thought for a moment before suggesting, "Mass hypnosis?"

"Nah," said the knight dismissively, "I don't think this has anything to do with his weight." Cat sighed and jumped down onto the floor.

"See you later," she said as she padded out of the room. The knight wondered if Moodle would let him have a second helping of porridge. It couldn't hurt to ask, he thought, with the common canine optimism that humans always had a treat about their person.

Cat spent the day doing whatever it is cats do when they disappear. Dog spent the day sniffing around the library and trying to see through the clouds surrounding the tower. He fancied that he could vaguely see the statue at the very top of the tower. The knight spent the day pretending to be blind in the library, while trying to find out what had happened to the wizard. Anea spent the day coyly helping the knight. The day passed.

It was only after the grueling dinner that they spoke again.

"Well, I know where our wizard is now," said the knight triumphantly, after Moodle had cleared away their dinner dishes.

"Yes?" said Cat expectantly, "We haven't yet found your dragon, remember?"

"I'm not so sure about that," said Dog, "I've a pretty good idea about that dragon."

"Well?" Cat said, "Are you going to share this insight with us?"

"Not now, Cat," said Dog.

"And you?" asked Cat turning to face the knight, "Is this a day for secrets, or are you willing to share?"

"I asked Anea for help in finding him..." started the knight before being interrupted by Cat.

"'Anea', is it? That's awfully familiar, being on a first-name relationship with the librarian?"

The knight reddened slightly but answered anyway, "Well, yeah... you know, I think she's just a little lonely, that's all. After all, hardly anybody ever goes to the library."

"I agree," said Dog gravely, "But, tell us more about the wizard. Where is he now?"

"He's a tyrant and ruler, now. Seems that the egg boosted his magic powers considerably." replied the knight. "With the help of the magic he deposed some weak king up north. Got an army and everything, now."

"Does he still have the egg?" asked Dog.

"I don't know... but my friend Anea," and here the knight glared at Cat, "Promised to write to the village under his rule and find out. I expect we'll find out within a week or so. What we have found out about him shows him to be the same old monster, killing people and generally being a mean person."

"Killing people?" asked Cat.

"Yes, in the book we found about his kingdom, it said that after he took power, he re-opened the torture chambers and re-instituted the death penalty."

"Death penalty?" asked Cat, more than a little intrigued, "What for?"

"I think it's generally used to kill people," said the knight tiredly, "Look, are we having a go at that tower tonight, or what? I'm a little tired from today, what with staring at the floor the whole day and not blinking."

"So," said Dog light-heartedly, "You pretended to be a cat all day?" Dog's tail thumped the floor a few times.

"Hey, that was very nearly a joke!" exclaimed Cat. She squinted at Dog and added suspiciously, "Who are you and what have you done with our Dog? The one with the surgically removed sense of humour."

"Hey now," said Dog, his tail thumping a little quicker behind him, "I can be a great companion, you know. Besides, with nothing to do for a few days, we may as well enjoy it."

"Okay, okay, I get it – you two ladies have bonded," said the knight, smiling a tired little smile, "But, seriously, Dhlon, are we getting into that tower tonight, or can it please wait until tomorrow?"

"It will wait," said Dog. "It'll have to wait until we have some decent weather."

"What?" asked both Cat and the knight together.

"Well," said Dog, "I'm not trying for that tower until I see that the statue of the dragon is still on top of it. Today, the weather was bad. We'll see tomorrow."

It was, in fact, only a week later that they finally saw through the clouds. However, a lot can happen in a week.

Bert was hard at work in the post office, attending to his usual duties as the unpaid postmaster on Lenchen. His snores could be heard outside the office and out in the street. The horseman who brought the post had to rap the door extremely hard to sway Bert from his current duty. Snorting the effects of sleep away, Bert finally left his peaceful slumber and opened the door. "Yes?" he blearily asked the horseman.

"Mail, from Vletch."

"What? That can't be right," said Bert, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, "That's the second letter this month."

"Yeah," the horseman leered, "This one smells."

"Aw, come one," said Bert, "You people always have some story about how there's this conspiracy for this, or for that."

"No, I mean this one smells!" said the horseman, "It's got tar fumes all over it!"

Bert took the proffered letter with a dubious expression on his face and gingerly held it to his nose before sniffing it slightly. He sighed, "Per-fume, I think you meant?"

"Yes, that's right," said the horseman, "Smells like flowers and whatnots."

Bert yawned. "Well, thank you very much. I'll see that this gets to..." Bert broke off and looked down at the address on the envelope, "Err..." Bert stared at the envelope.

"Yeah, I thought so," said the horseman with a leery grin, "I only wanted to see your face when you read that. I'm off now, more villages to visit."

Bert kept on staring at the envelope. This was one address he'd never seen before. The fine and delicate floral handwriting on the envelope had addressed the letter

"To

The Esteemed High Lord and Royal Keeper of the Mail,

Kingdom of Lenchen"

Bert hoped that that meant him. No one had ever addressed him as anything but "Him, that boy down at the post-office what can read words" or similar. He sniffed the envelope again. It smelled wonderful to him. No one had ever sent scented mail before. He carried it inside, placed it on his desk and put some water on the boil for a cup of tea. Bert was not a man of action, but a man of words and thought. He thoughtfully made his tea, sat down at his desk, added sugar to his tea, vigorously stirred it, and only then opened the envelope. After all the preliminary thought put into what the contents of the envelope would be, he was slightly disappointed to find that it merely contained a single sheet of paper and another envelope.

He'd had thought so – the message from the person with the feminine writing and wonderful smell wasn't for him anyway. This was merely for him to forward. Bert picked up the paper glumly and proceeded to read it to find out who the smaller letter was for. His gloominess was soon replaced with consternation. The letter inside claimed to be written by the librarian in Vletch, and she was requesting that he deliver the enclosed letter to the librarian, historian or archivist of Lenchen. That presented somewhat of a problem for Bert; Lenchen had no library. He was the closest the town came to having a scribe, after all.

After a second cup of tea and much deliberation along the lines of "I wonder if she's pretty" and "I'm the one she meant, I'm sure of it" and other such rationalisations the male mind makes to convince himself that the female desires his attention, Bert picked up the smaller letter and opened it. His consternation deepened. After some thought, he pulled a blank page to himself, picked up a pen, filled it with ink, and began to write. When he was done, he folded the page in two and placed it in an envelope. Selecting his best pen, the one that was least likely to blot, smudge or leak, he carefully addressed the letter to The Librarian, Kingdom of Vletch.

Back in Vletch, the questing trio found themselves in front off the King Vletch. The king was holding court. This usually involved employing a big man with a large stick to drag alleged criminals in front of the king to be judged. The last two petty thieves to be judged had limped out after a guilty verdict. The knight was already standing to attention, with both Cat and Dog at the back of the court, when their matter came round next.

"What's this I hear about you scaling the library?" boomed King Vletch, with none of the previous humour he had greeted the knight with.

"I'm sorry, my Lord?" asked the knight, "We weren't planning to steal it."

"'We'?" asked the King.

"I meant 'I', my Lord" said the knight quickly, "I wasn't planning to steal it."

"I didn't think you'd walk off with my library, man!" said the king crossly. "I was told that you are planning to steal my statue at the top of the library."

"You were informed incorrectly, my Lord," said the knight. He was sweating slightly. When he was told to report to the court, Dog had given him, in great detail, all the arguments to use. But, he thought as he stood before the king, it's not Dog's neck on the line, now is it? Dog, who was watching quietly from the back of the court, did indeed think that that was his neck on the line, in a very literal way. Dog just wasn't using that particular neck at the moment, but that still didn't change the fact that it was his neck that would get hanged if the knight was hanged. Hell, come to think of it, the knight himself had Dogs entire body, including the neck. Dog thought that if they got out of this one, he was definitely going to ensure that the knight got some exercise and ate lots of salads. Even if one is not in one's body, one should still take care of it.

"What makes you think that?" boomed the king, "You don't even know who it was who told me."

"I don't need to," replied the knight, "A snitch is, by definition, a betrayer. All you have is someone who has proved that they were willing to betray at least once, by telling you about a supposed plot." The knight paused, and then went on, "How sure are you that they won't betray again?"

"What?" shouted the king. The knight winced slightly at the sheer volume in the king's voice. "You aren't here to ask questions, damn it man! You're here to answer them, or so help me god I'll drag you outside myself and throw a rope over the gallows. That damn tower is unsafe, y'hear me, and if you go up it I'll damn well hang you for 'placing your life in danger' or some other similar charge."

The court was silent. The only reason you couldn't hear a pin drop was because no one dropped any, but if someone did bring seamstress tools to court, and then neglected to hold onto them securely, then in the silence that followed the kings outburst you most assuredly would have heard the pin striking the floor. The knight was breathing in short, shallow and above all quiet breaths. "My Lord," he started softly, "I did nothing wrong, my Lord, but rest assured, my Lord, that if you have a crime to accuse me of, my Lord, I shall certainly answer it, my Lord. I only ever looked around, my Lord, and that was done with your blessing, my Lord. But in the absence of a crime, my Lord, I have to know why you see fit to disgrace me in this manner, my Lord. I'm not an offensive man, my Lord, but you see fit to charge me with a crime that has no name, with an accuser who has no face, my Lord. What is my crime, my Lord?"

King Vletch's mouth was agape. He couldn't remember when last he had found that much deference annoying. "Very well," he growled at the knight, "There was no crime, too true, but the tower on the library is off-limits, you understand? You have been told!"

"Thank you, my Lord," said the knight. Relief came off of him in waves, mixed with copious amounts of sweat.

"Don't start thanking me just yet," said the king, "If you stay here too long I'm going to regret not throwing you into the gaol for the night. Just as a preventative measure, you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord," said the knight, still operating on the theory that employing a large quantity of respect is a good idea when addressing a large and particularly violent man, who happens to be angry at you, and who also happens to have the legal right to throw a noose around your neck.

"Yes, very well, now leave, please." said the king. The knight made his way from the spot in front of the king where all criminals habitually stood when being judged to the back of the court where Dog and Cat were waiting for him. "Everyone, leave now!" boomed the king, "I'd like a private moment." The court emptied in record time.

The king regarded the empty court in front of him critically. "I'm not sure," he told the empty court, "That I came off best there, you know."

"I know," whispered a voice from the shadows behind him. "I don't know that you did enough, though," the voice continued after a small pause, "He's a little stupid, and maybe he won't take the hint?"

"I think he will," the King mused, still to the empty court in front of him, "There's a much harder task ahead, however, you do know that, don't you?"

"Yes," the voice said, and then coughed, "Yes, your powers of persuasion will no doubt be put to the test. Convincing this pathetic knight is easy. The other will prove to be difficult." The voice coughed again.

"I know," sighed the king, never looking behind him.

The coughing behind him increased. "You know," sputtered the voice behind the king, "You could at least dust up a little, back here."

The king's expression settled into a hen-pecked one of resignation, the one that all men get when they know what is going to be said next.

"Honestly, I can't even see the floor here! Your maidens don't know how to use a broom, or what?" asked the voice, in a slightly nagging tone. "Would it kill you to ask them to sweep the damn corners?" The voice paused to complete another expectoration fit. "Next time I'm here, me lad, I'd better not see my footprints, you hear me?" it asked.

The king sighed again before replying "Yes, father. I'll make sure the corners are swept." The voice in the shadows sniffed slightly in victory, as if the king's capitulation was a result of hard-nosed negotiation rather than good old-fashioned nagging.

Outside, the knight, Dog and Cat found themselves shelter in a little alcove out of the rain. The advantage of rain was that it made people scarce – everyone went indoors. This allowed the trio to have conversations without having people stopping by and saying "Oh wow! A talking dog! Does he also do tricks? Can he play dead?"

"You know," said the knight, "I quite think that it's time we looked for the dragon somewhere else?"

"Somewhere else?" asked Cat.

"You know, some place where they won't make my feet dangle if they catch me staring at the top of a tower!" snapped the knight.

"Hang on, both of you," Dog intervened, "I really do think we're onto something here. We haven't even done anything, and already we're getting into trouble."

"Yes, Dhlon!" screamed the knight. "That whole 'getting into trouble' bit is what is scaring me!"

"Wait, the king himself is now warning us off of the tower and its dragon statue," said Dog. "That can only mean that we're on to the trail here for certain. He's hardly going to frighten us away from the tower if all he was worried about was our safety."

"I'm worried about our safety," growled the knight.

"I think," said Cat delicately, "That we should see that librarian for news about your wizard. If we do need to get away in a hurry, say... by finding that dragon... then it would be nice to have a real destination in mind."

"I agree," said Dog, "But perhaps we should wait for the rain to stop. Dane can't be tracking water and mud all over the library."

"Lets find Moodle in the meantime," said the knight, "I could do with a bite to eat."

"You! You're not welcome here!" snapped the librarian to the knight the minute he entered the library.

"I see." He replied, a little confused by the drastic change of attitude.

"Yes, I know," said the librarian angrily, "You've been lying to me!"

"Oh yeah, about that," replied the knight guiltily, "Look, I'm very sorry, you know."

"I know no such thing," snapped Anea, "What I do know is that I'd like to wring that scrawny neck of yours."

"Hold on," said the knight, "I didn't actually say that I was blind, did I? You just assumed."

"And you let me!" Anea replied.

"So, wait," asked the knight pensively, "What exactly are you angry about? That I let you think I'm blind or that you thought I was blind? Because you see, if it's that second one then that's not exactly my fault, is it?" The knight gave Anea a few seconds to let that sentence sink in. Once it did, however, he had to duck in a hurry due to the large rubber stamp that was hurled by Anea at his face. He warily straightened up, ready to duck again should any further missiles be on their way to his face.

"You could have told me," Anea wailed, "I felt sorry for you, you know, and now I feel hurt that you used my feelings for you against me."

"What?"

"You heard me! I helped you only because I felt for you!"

"Well, I'm very grateful," said the knight with what he hoped was a grateful expression, "You're the only person I met who likes me."

"Really?" asked Anea dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. She was thinking that a six foot, broad-shouldered and square-chinned man with gorgeous blonde hair down to his shoulders would not usually complain that women don't like him.

"Yes, really," said the knight, "Your help really meant something to me."

"They said, in the court, that you were going to steal the library." Anea sniffed, her feelings somewhat mollified by the knights sincerity. "They said," she went on, "That Vletch found you guilty and sentenced you to the torture chambers."

"They did?" asked the knight in surprise, "Did they say where Vletch's torture chambers are? We've been looking round this place for ages and we never came across a torture chamber."

"Yeah, well," said Anea, her sniffles coming to an end, "You know, it's just... hearsay..."

"You mean 'theysay'?" asked the knight. Anea smiled a little at that.

"What are you up to anyway?" she asked him, "The Kings watchmen asked me some questions about you."

"What did they want to know?"

"Well, mainly they wanted to know what you were poking around for, and what questions you were asking."

"Did you tell them anything?" asked the knight.

"Of course I did," replied Anea, "I told them everything!"

"Everything?"

"Yes, everything. I omitted no detail."

The knight sighed in frustration. Vletch must, by now, know for sure what they were up to. No wonder he had dragged them before the court.

"I told them," Anea carried on talking, "About your fascination with line-fishing, and all the books you borrowed on fishing techniques."

"Err." said the knight. Once again, he was finding that a conversation with Anea frequently took the less travelled path.

"They left after that," said Anea with a mischievous smile.

"I imagine they did," said the knight, finally latching on to the thread of the conversation, "I expect that they believed you?"

"Oh no!" said Anea, shocked at this suggestion, "What kind of watchmen do you think we have here in Vletch?"

"Wait, what?" asked the knight.

"No one ever tells the truth when questioned by the watchmen!"

"Why?"

"Because they only question guilty people," replied Anea matter-of-factly, "If they ask a question, like, say... 'Was it you what went and done it, then?' why would anyone ever answer 'Yes' to that? Everyone answers 'No'".

"Err." the knight was having a little trouble understanding this.

"Well, you see," Anea tried to explain, "If you're innocent, then you will deny doing the crime, right?"

"Right!" answered the knight.

"Well, if you're guilty, then you're also going to deny, right?"

"Right," answered the knight, a little less confidently.

"So, every person, whether guilty or innocent, always denies doing the crime."

"So," asked the knight, after digesting this little piece of wisdom, "What's the point of having the watchmen ask people questions? I mean, if doing so doesn't actually help them find any criminals?"

"Of course they find criminals, silly," said Anea, "That's who they question, after all."

The knight did mental gymnastics trying to understand this.

"Look," he said eventually, giving up on trying to understand the policies and procedures of law enforcement officials filtered through Anea's own special brand of logic, "Will you still help me? I don't want you to get into trouble over this after all."

"I don't know," said Anea petulantly, "You've hurt me once, you know."

"I promise never to do that again," replied the knight.

"Well, okay. I'll help you, but only a little bit about Lenchen. I'm not helping you steal the library!"

"Err, OK," replied the knight dubiously, "That letter from Lenchen would be a great help. So, you know, thanks again."

"Hey, it's no problem," said Anea, "Besides, Bert is a great writer. He might be funny too; he almost very nearly told a joke in one of his letters."

"Wait, what?" asked the knight, "Who's Bert?" He was rapidly coming to the conclusion that any conversation with Anea should end with a days worth of rest in a bed, or any other suitable cure for a sprained brain. "And why have you got letters from him?"

"Er," Anea cleared her throat, "Well, it's like this, you see..."

"Yes?"

"You were being investigated..."

"But I wasn't questioned!"

"You were, eventually, by Vletch. Remember?"

"Ah, right. Do go on."

"Well, I thought perhaps you'd be thrown into prison forever..."

"And?"

"And that I wouldn't see you again..."

"And?" the knight was surprised to find himself quite curious about the ending of this particular narrative from Anea.

"And... well... You weren't around, and Bert was there, with his letters, and his single very-nearly-almost-funny joke..."

"Weren't around?" asked the knight in disbelief, "I was down the road from here, not more than five minutes away!"

"But you weren't supposed to be," Anea burst out, "I thought Vletch was going to lock you up forever because you stole the library! And when you're gone away forever someone else has to keep me company." She thought a bit and added, "I'm only human, you know!"

The knight had his reservations about that last sentence. He sighed. "Well, what does Bert say about our wizard?"

"Quite a lot, actually," replied Anea, "I think he's a bit soft on me, if you must know."

"I didn't need to," said the knight bitterly, "But, can you do me one more favour?"

"Sure," said Anea, brightly adding, "Is this something I should write to Bert about?"

"The next time they question you," said the knight ignoring the part about Bert, "Can you tell the watchmen that I'm interested in the library, and in the tower on the top?"

"Why?"

"Just do it, please?" said the knight.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

Lectrac was celebrating. Actually, he was talking. To be more accurate, he was actually in a social setting chatting to someone. To be perfectly accurate, Lectrac was merely present; it was the strong drink that was doing the talking. Or, if we were being strictly pedantic, it was the strong drink doing the boasting. The pub was, as it usually tended to be at the end of the week, filled with farmers prepared to drink away the troubles of farming. Lectrac, having recently made the acquaintance of a few of these farmers, was proudly proclaiming the importance of the work being done at Lenchen's castle.

The farmers weren't really interested in the magical properties of copper but they were prepared to be patient to find out what the recent need for mice was. Bert, being the only other person in the pub (other than Lectrac) who knew a thing or two about intellectual matters, had naturally gravitated towards Lectrac. He was hoping for an interesting titbit or two of information, and he certainly wasn't disappointed this evening. His earlier conversations with the farmers who had had Lectrac out to their farms were certainly intriguing. There was talk of a device that will allow men to continue working even after the sun had set.

"So," said Bert to Lectrac, "This magic you keep talking about. You say it's new..."

"No no no," interrupted Lectrac, "It's not new, it's old, you know. It's as old as... as... as..." Lectrac paused to think of something really old.

"The hills?" suggested Bert

"Yes, that's it. This thing, this magic. It's really really old, but we only found it now." Lectrac finished.

"Okay," said Bert carefully, "This magic, it's really old, but new to us, right? And it can make copper glow?"

"No," said Lectrac miserably. He was discovering that his lecturing abilities hadn't improved with the consumption of alcohol. "Y'see," he tried to explain again, "This is like lightning, but smaller. And we can use it... see?"

"What for?" asked Bert, "Lightning only ever kills whatever it strikes. Is this a weapon?"

"No no," said Lectrac in frustration, "We found it as a weapon, but it can be used for so much more!"

"Like what?" asked Bert.

"Well," replied one of the farmers, "That young man and two of his friends were out at my place last night, setting that machine of theirs up. It made light."

"So what? We have candles." said Bert.

"No candlelight is as bright as lightning." said Lectrac proudly.

"Yeah, but lightning lasts... what... maybe a half-second?" replied Bert, "How much can you read in a half-second?"

"Me? Not much," admitted one of the pub's customers, "Although, I reckon it would help if I learned to read at all, first."

"It lasted ten minutes, or thereabouts," said the farmer who had had Lectrac out to his farm for an experiment, "Now, I'm not a man of reading, you understand, but I reckon that you can get a whole lot of reading done in ten minutes. Writing too, if you have the knack of it."

"So," said Bert with a stubborn determination to refrain from digressing, "You have this new old magic, and it makes ten minute lightning?"

"Right." agreed Lectrac and drained his mug. Someone handed him another full mug, which he unwisely took.

"And you get it," Bert took a quick peek at the notes he had been making, "After spinning copper rods in your machine?"

"Thas' right," Lectrac slurred in agreement. He briefly wondered if too much alcohol can kill a person. He'd never tasted the stuff until today, when he discovered the first thing about alcohol; namely that it makes you talkative.

"And this lightning you make from your machine with its copper rods, the lightning that can last for ten minutes... can it kill a man?"

"Well, no," admitted Lectrac, "We found that it would kill a mouse, or even a small rat, but anything larger just gets hurt a little."

The pub-crowd accepted this; it became clear what the previous requests for mice were for. Bert continued his questions, "So, can anyone make this, or does it take wizard training and knowledge?"

"Well," Lectrac paused and thought awhile, "We did find that you can get a small spark from rubbing a piece of amber with a flannel cloth. It's not as powerful as the copper ones, though. It's enough to make your hair rise, but not much good for anything else."

"I knew a girl called Amber once," reflected one of the pub's old-timers.

"Did you feel a spark when you rubbed 'er?" asked someone, to uproarious laughter from the rest of the pub.

"'E rubbed 'er but nothing of 'is rose. She left 'im after that," added someone else, doubling the laughter in the place. Unfortunately, while some jokes are funnier when alcohol is added to them, or rather to the person hearing them, there is currently no way to add alcohol to a book. The first person to discover a way to do this is going to get really rich from building libraries.

"I 'ear our Bert's got a young lady for hisself too," said another member of the drunken crowd, "Some fancy bookworm over in Vletch." Lectrac perked his ears at that. It should be said that, while Bert is indeed a young man, Lectrac is much much younger, barely more than a boy, really. Lectrac felt that Bert, being a kindred intellectual like himself, would not object to parting with some wisdom on successful courting rituals. Drawing Bert closer and ignoring the rest of the pub who by now had finished with the juicy topic of the latest romance to blossom in the village, he asked his questions.

"Say, Bert, you got a lady friend?"

"Well, she's just a friend, you know," Bert had to admit, "We write each other."

"Yeah?" Lectrac was interested, "What do you write about?" The one time that Lectrac had been in the company of a pretty young girl his tongue had decided to go on strike. He honestly had no idea what to say to a girl.

"Well, you know," said Bert awkwardly, "We write each other, you know, about this... or that..."

"See, that's my problem," Lectrac whispered consiprationally to Bert, "I dunno what to say!" Bert looked blank. "I dunno what to say," repeated Lectrac.

"You've been here for what? Over an hour maybe, and you've been talking to us all that time," said Bert, "Surely you can talk to a young lady too?"

"Well," said Lectrac miserably, "What do you talk about with your young lady?"

"Err, not much interesting, if you must know," Bert acknowledged, "Mostly the weather."

"Weather?" asked Lectrac. "I don't believe you!"

"S'true," persisted Bert, "She tells me about the weather over there, and I do the same. And of course she gives me news of what's happening over in Vletch, and I give her the same."

"But, what if I find a young lady, and she thinks that the weather or current events is boring? What if she thinks I'm boring?"

"That could be a problem," admitted Bert, "But you should try anyway." He looked at how glumly Lectrac was staring at the mug and made up his mind. "Look, it's not hard. Thousands of men have done this before you, you know. What I found in my friend over in Vletch is that she loved news of current events."

"She did?"

"Yeah, yeah, we wrote almost daily, and she asked me lots of questions. I didn't get stuck for words because she told me what she wanted me to say!"

"She did?" Lectrac was awestruck.

"Yeah. For example, my second letter to her was simply to answer all the questions she asked in her previous letter. If she didn't ask any questions, I wouldn't have known what to write."

"What did she ask?" asked Lectrac.

"Well, silly things, like what kind of man our ruler is, and how big the military is. Things like that, you see? She didn't really care about the answers, but she made sure she gave me a reason to write back. And I did the same too. I asked her questions too, so that she would have a reason to write back to me. I also made sure that all my letters to her were witty and funny. A joke on every page!"

"Yeah?" Lectrac was brightening up now. This was looking like pretty good advice, "What did you ask her?"

"Well, you know," said Bert shamefacedly, "Silly things... like the books she likes to read, or the plays that she thinks are nice. I asked her about poetry once too."

"Hmm..." Lectrac wished he wasn't so drunk. He also wished that he'd remember all this by morning. Unfortunately, come the morning Lectrac was going to discover the second thing about alcohol, namely that it makes you forget what a good time you had last night by expediently making you forget everything about last night.

The questing trio was at their usual after-dinner chat. The gruel had been especially gruelling today. Moodle, uncharacteristically, had sensed the knight's mood and had left him alone with the two animals. Cat was first to break the silence. "So, what now?" she asked Dog.

"That depends," said Dog, "The rain stopped just now, and the clouds have cleared away. If it stays like this tomorrow morning, I'll have a good look at the top of the tower."

"That won't help," said Cat, "I've already told you – there is nothing at the top of the tower!"

"I heard you, Cat," Dog replied wearily. The stress of the quest was beginning to take its toll on Dog. "Tell me, what news of the wizard."

"Hmpf!" the knight grunted. "Do you know," he complained to the other two, "That women can be so fickle?"

"Oh really?" asked Cat sweetly, "Please, do tell."

"Nothing to tell," said the knight bitterly, "Perhaps you could ask Bert instead!" Dog and Cat exchanged a glance. "I'm gone not even a week and already she'd moved on." Dog and Cat exchanged another look, but this time with a lot more confusion. "It's 'Bert this' and 'Bert that'. He makes her laugh? Really?"

"Sooooo..." Cat began carefully, "You've been thrown over for a clown?"

"Not even," replied the knight, "Huh! A clown would be an improvement."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Dane," said Dog helpfully, "I think you're much better than any clown."

"I'm not the one that made her laugh!" the knight exclaimed and glared at Dog.

"I'm sure Bert isn't as funny as a clown," Cat tried assuage the knights feelings of rejection.

"This isn't what I meant!" said the knight, "You aren't helping!"

"Well, okay," Dog replied diplomatically, "Let's change the subject. How about you tell us what Anea learned from her correspondent in Lenchen."

"You mean Bert?" asked the knight.

"Oh," said Dog.

"Uh-oh," said Cat.

"They wrote each other quite a lot, did you know that?" complained the knight to the other two.

"Well, no, we didn't. What did he say in his letters?" asked Dog, trying unsuccessfully to get the conversation back on track.

"Something very-nearly-almost-funny!" snapped the knight.

"About Lenchen?" prompted Cat.

"Er, yes," said the knight, temporarily returning to reality, "The wizard has got himself a small army now, apparently."

"So, he's preparing for war?" asked Cat.

"No, I mean really small," replied the knight, "Only 25 men, or thereabouts."

"I'm no military expert, but that's hardly an army, is it?" asked Cat. "That's barely a City Watch."

"Also, the rumours are that he's got some new power." the knight continued, forsaking his hurt feelings in pursuit of some professionalism in reporting.

Dog's ears pricked up at once, "What power?"

"They say he has tamed lightning," said the knight.

"Impossible!" exclaimed Dog. "No one can tame the lightning!"

"Hey, I'm just the messenger here." said the knight. "If you want to dispute the truth in these messages you ought to talk to Bert yourself."

"Calm down," said Cat soothingly, "I'm sure that Bert is just a phase." She turned to Dog and asked, "Is this bad?"

"Very" Dog replied. "If the egg has developed his power to control bolts of lightning then he has indeed grown in power since we last met him." Dog thought for a moment before continuing, "I don't know now if we will be able to snatch the egg away from him."

"Huh," said Cat loftily, "Just like a canine. If you can't win by meeting someone head on, you think you can't win."

"What?" asked Dog.

"Well, the last time you faced him, you did so head on and you lost," Cat replied.

"And?" asked Dog.

"This time, my furry friend," Cat replied smugly, "You have a cat with you." She looked at the expectant silence from the other two. "Cats," she said, "Never face anything unless they really have to. We sneak in from behind and steal away what we can."

Dog sighed, "I assume, from all this big talk, that you have a plan."

"Not a complete one," Cat admitted, "But close enough. We'll get the egg this time because you see... your wizard doesn't know about me. While you two go face to face with him, I'll steal the egg."

Meanwhile, at the same time in the throne room of the palace, the commander of the guards was reporting to the King.

"What do you mean, he's not after the tower?" King Vletch asked his commander of the guards. "He must be after the thing, nothing else should grab his attention now!"

"I'm pretty certain, my Lord," answered the commander nervously. No one likes being the bearer of bad news, but this role takes on a slightly more immediate and urgent tone when one has to deliver bad news to large and violent men. "We questioned the librarian very thoroughly."

"Are you sure?" asked Vletch, "It could be a ruse, after all. She could be lying to protect him?"

"Everyone lies, Lord" said the commander, "Everyone always lies to us. There is no way that we would ever question someone and have 'em tell us the truth. It simply does not happen."

"What exactly did she say?" prompted the king.

"She said that he was interested in the tower, and in nothing else."

The king regarded the commander. "And this story she gave you about how interested the knight was in my tower, this makes you think that he is not interested in my tower?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Why?" asked the King, genuinely curious.

"Well, you see, everyone lies, and that means everyone lies, including the librarian. So if she said 'the knight is very interested in this here tower' AND she is lying, it could mean only one thing, my Lord."

"Yes, it certainly does," said the King, "It means that your raise last year was much too high!"

"I didn't get a raise last year, Lord." corrected the commander.

"I know," grunted the King in return, "I stand by my original statement." There was a moment of silence in the throne-room. King Vletch thought for a long while. Finally he appeared to reach a conclusion, "Here's what I want you to do..." he said to the commander.

It was dark now. Well, it was night, at any rate, but not at all dark. A full moon and cloudless sky ensured this. The knight, Dog and Cat were at the foot of the library tower, all of them staring into the sky, trying to see if anything was at the top of the tower.

"Tell me," said Cat, "Is this now really necessary? We've been as good as kicked out of Vletch."

"Yes!" answered Dog emphatically. "This won't take long, and it might just help to see what's so special about the top of the tower that got us threatened."

"Yes," said the knight sarcastically, "Because being threatened is not enough, obviously. We also have to make sure that the king follows through on the threat!"

"I'm with Dane on this one," said Cat, "Why do you want to see the tower so badly? You're willing to die over it?"

"No!" answered Dog grimly, "I'm curious about the person willing to kill to stop me."

"You know," said Cat, "I can tell you first-hand that once curiosity kills the Cat, satisfaction is never going to bring her back. Trust me on this."

"So much for your nine lives, then," said the knight.

"Enough," said Dog, "Cat, please go up now and throw down the rope you left at the top. Dane, get the saddle ready." Cat sighed and then quietly padded to the wall, made a leap and disappeared upwards. The knight began buckling a small harness around Dog because, even though dogs and cats share many superficial similarities such as four paws, a general basic hunting shape, etc., dogs don't last long on the side of a sheer wall. Before the knight was even done with the harness the rope fell from above, uncoiling in the darkness and spilling onto the ground. The knight grabbed it and gave it a very firm tug.

"Seems secure," he told Dog.

"Good," replied Dog, "Now tie it to the harness and then climb up." The knight attached the rope to various points on the harness and then climbed up the rope to the top. Once at the top he gave the rope another slight tug to alert Dog down below that the ascent was about to start. Then he hauled on the rope.

It was the next day. To be precise, it was the following morning and King Vletch was holding court. The knight, bound in chains, with a leg-iron as well, was being read his charges by Vletch's commander of the watch. He had, on the advice of Dog, remained silent. The court was actually quite full for it was some time since King Vletch had actually arrested anyone for anything other than theft. Additionally, King Vletch had actually appointed the knight a lawyer; an old, almost senile practitioner of law who had almost forgotten how to practice altogether. The Commander of the watch, a man only recently acquainted with preparing a trial as opposed to throwing miscreants into a cell, cleared his throat and started into the charges out loud so that the entire court could hear. He shouted out the charges in the hope that the defence might be hindered by being partially deafened. The commander would not have gotten any consolation had he known that the lawyer was already partially deaf and that his exertions helped rather than hindered the defence.

"At, or about, twenty two hundred hours, or thereabout," the Commander bellowed, "The accused, one knight, name unknown, climbed a palace building, to whit, one library with attached tower, with the intention of nefarious activity that shall be further expoundeded on."

Taking advantage of the Commanders pause for breath the king asked, "Expounded... ed?"

The knight asked "Twenty two hundred hours? What does that mean?"

The lawyer asked, "Eh? Speak up young man."

The Commander prepared to resume his speech, this time at a slightly lower volume. He realised that if he kept up the tremendous volume that he had started with he might not make it to the end of the trial with his lungs intact.

"Er," he answered the King first, "Well, you see your majesty, the prosecution shall go into great detail expounding the nefarious activities of the accused. And then, we shall go into even greater detail, so it's a double-expounding, hence we shall have expoundeded!"

Vletch grunted, "Of course, continue Commander."

The Commander turned to the knight, "'Twenty two hundred hours' means ten-of-the-clock." The knight nodded in understanding. "See!" exclaimed the commander, "He admits his guilt!"

The lawyer, by now having sorted out his hearing aid, intervened before the knight could say anything, "I object! My client, by nodding, was signifying acknowledgement of the charges, not any liability at all." King Vletch sighed.

"Please," he said, "Can we get this over before lunch at least? Just tell me what happened, Commander. This court is not bound by much red-tape."

The Commander started his case by calling his first witness to testify, one of the watchmen who had arrested the knight. Once the witness was seated the questions began.

"Can you tell the court," the Commander started with a smug air, "The events of last night that... er... eventuated?"

"Well," said the watchman, "We were on patrol around the palace library as per orders, and we found a dog trussed up in a rope."

"And where," asked the Commander confidently, "Was the rope?"

"On the dog, just like I said!" answered the watchman.

"No, I mean, a rope has two ends, right?"

"Right!"

"Now, one end was on the dog, but where was the other end?"

"I know that one," answered the watchman, "It was tied to the top of the tower."

"I object!" objected the lawyer for the defence. "The witness couldn't possibly have seen the other end of the rope; the tower is too far off of the ground for that. He saw the rope disappearing towards the top of the tower and surmises that the rope was secured to the top of the tower. This is circumstantial at best, and prejudicial at worst. I move to strike the statements from the court record, and to strike the witness testimony from admission, and if need be, to strike the witness for purely circumstantial speculation when a man's life hangs in the balance. In short," the lawyer paused for dramatic effect, "I move for a mistrial and complete acquittal on grounds of strike action."

The Commander stared at the lawyer open-mouthed. The rest of the court stared similarly at the lawyer. King Vletch stared for a short while before answering "Movement for mistrial denied."

"Ah well," the lawyer told the knight, closing his suitcase and removing his hearing aid, " I did my best for you, you see, but I'm afraid that the evidence against you is just too strong."

"What evidence?" hissed the knight, "They haven't even finished presenting the charges yet, much less any evidence!"

"You don't have a representative?" King Vletch asked the knight, dangerously amiable.

"Uh," the knight responded.

"We will adjourn to this day next month..." King Vletch started before being interrupted by the knight.

"Wait, what?" he asked, completely bewildered, "Why?"

"You don't have a defence lawyer," said the King, "You'll remain in custody till then."

"And my dog?"

The Commander coughed, "Well, the thing is, you see, that dog is evidence of a crime. I'll have to hang on to it for now."

"Listen," said the knight desperately, "How about if I defend myself?"

"No," said King Vletch, "It would not do, allowing citizens to talk in court. That's a slippery slope, man! Next thing you know, they'll want to do away with hanging for a first offence."

"I'll represent him!" a voice shouted across the court. All heads turned to find the source of the voice. They didn't have to wait for long, however, because the owner of the voice had soon pushed her way to the front of the court and stood beside the knight.

"Anea?" said the knight in confusion.

"Ah well," she said with a brittle smile, "What we had was beautiful, and we can never be together, but still... you know... someone had better help you."

"And Bert?" the knight asked.

"We're getting married!"

"What?"

"You know, he came round to visit, the other day, and he's such a funny man, and one thing lead to another, and before you know it, he asked me to be his wife."

"He did?" asked the knight in amazement. "You hardly know him!"

"I'll have you know," Anea replied hotly, "We exchanged letters every single day! I know him better than I know any of the louts round here."

"Ahem," King Vletch broke in, "If I may be so impolite as to interrupt this little love-triangle, can I ask a few questions?"

"Go right ahead," said Anea with all the bright confidence of someone who has a new home far away in a different jurisdiction.

"Why are you doing this?" asked King Vletch, "How much can this criminal mean to you; you're betrothed already, or so you say."

"There needs to be justice," answered Anea. "Besides," she continued sweetly, "What are you going to do? Lock me up too?"

"Um, good point!" said King Vletch, "Can we move this along now?"

"Are we all good?" asked the Commander. Much like police officers all over the universe, he was more than a little suspicious of people who believed in justice. The police force was never about justice but about the law instead, and police officers took the view that anyone going on about justice should be locked up as a matter of principle.

"Yes, we are, fire away." Anea answered happily.

"Wait!" screamed the knight, "I haven't been found guilty of anything yet! HOLD YOUR FIRE!"

Anea gave him a Look, which told the knight that it might be a good idea to keep silent for a little while.

"Well, now," said the Commander turning back to the witness, "Where were you? Telling us about the events of last night?"

"Yes," answered the witness, "Y'see, we were on patrol around the library as per orders..."

"I object!" the Commander interrupted. Vletch sighed.

"Why are you objecting, Commander? This is your witness after all."

"Er, yes." replied the Commander to King Vletch. He turned back to the witness, "Now tell the court what you found."

"We found a dog, all tied up with a rope."

"Yes," encouraged the Commander, "Please do go on."

"Er, well, it was being pulled up the tower. We grabbed the rope that was pulling the dog up the tower and shouted up at the tower for whoever it was that was doin' the pullin' to come back down so we could arrest him."

"And what happened next?" prompted the Commander.

"He shinned down the rope."

"Who did?"

"He did," said the witness, pointing to the knight.

The Commander cleared his throat before speaking, "Let the record show that the witness pointed to the as-yet-unnamed knight." Turning back to the witness he said, "You may go now."

"Wait!" exclaimed Anea. "Don't we get a chance to question the witness?"

"No!" said the Commander firmly.

"Yes!" said King Vletch with a grin.

"I object!" said the Commander addressing King Vletch, "We already know what happened. Anything more the witness says might help the defence, Lord."

"Exactly!" said Anea. She got up from the tiny desk in front of the knight and approached the witness. "Tell me," she said amiably, "Just now when you told the court that you were given orders to patrol the library... who was it that gave the order to patrol the library?"

The man glanced at his commander and made a flash decision to improve his promotional prospects in the near future. Quite carefully he said "No one. Watchmen go on patrol all the time." The commander nodded at the witness ever so slightly. Emboldened, the man continued, "We are the Watch, Miss. We were on a routine patrol when we saw the dog being lifted up into the tower at the library."

"Well," said Vletch, "That settles that, then. I propose to sentence the defendant to imprisonment of... say... 24 months."

"On what charge do you find my client guilty, Lord? Nothing has been stolen, and nothing has been broken. If anything, the Watch should be charged with wasting your time." said Anea. She was of the opinion that this whole trial was a sham anyway, and had railways been invented in this reality she would have definitely used the term "rail-roaded". Of course, even if the King was determined to imprison the knight there was such a thing as going down fighting.

"I find," said the King after considerable thought, "The unknown knight guilty of disobeying a royal edict and directive, and of trespass on royal grounds."

"Is that even a law?" whispered the knight to Anea, who was by now back beside him.

"Probably," Anea whispered back, "But don't worry, those 24 months would go by quickly. You'd be out in no time at all, for good behaviour and things like that. Probably no more than 18 months inside, at most. Probably."

"I don't want 18 months inside anywhere!" hissed the knight back.

"Neither do I," replied Anea still whispering, "That means you'll miss the wedding and everything."

The knight sighed. At least Cat was free. When the watchmen had ordered him off of the tower Cat had simply crept down the other side. Dog had a problem, though. He needed to be fed and kept, and the knight guessed that perhaps the usual evidence room didn't have facilities for regular walkies. While King Vletch was busy writing out the order for imprisonment he whispered to Anea again, "One more thing, please?"

"Yes?"

"Ask for my dog."

"What?"

"Ask them to give me my dog."

"You're going to be in jail, you'll have more than enough companions soon enough. Also, they will be able to speak to you!"

"I want the dog." insisted the knight.

"Lord," Anea addressed the King. He looked up expectantly from the order that he was signing. Anea continued, "In mitigation of the fact that no damage was done, and that no resistance was put up by the defendant, we would beg the court to allow him to share his cell with his dog."

King Vletch sighed again – lunchtime was so close now.

"Sure," he replied in an attempt to conclude the matter, "Why not put the dog into his cell as well? As long as he doesn't mind the smell."

"He won't mind; he's not a very fussy pet." said the knight.

King Vletch sighed. Anea sighed. Cat, looking into the court from a high window, sighed. After all the formalities of the due process, the knight was lead away to the jails. He had been, in the long-time vernacular of policing authorities, nabbed.

It was much later that night. The moon was still casting a good light to see by. The knight and Dog were in a cell, contemplating the next 24 months (18 for good behaviour!). The King had saddled a horse at sunset and disappeared into the countryside. Unknown to him, he had company; Cat had stowed away on the back of the saddle without King Vletch realising it. King Vletch had ridden quite a good way before he finally found his destination near a clump of trees and stopped and dismounted. Cat quietly leapt from the horse and hid among the long grasses. She watched Vletch walk towards the trees, unzipping the front of his trousers as he did so.

"You should have went before you left the house!" said a voice from the darkness of the trees, "Did yer learn nothing from me as a child?" Cat's ears twitched in surprise – she knew this voice. She knew it well.

"I learned that a tree will do when a porcelain bowl is unavailable," replied Vletch somewhat crossly. "What are you doing here, father? Don't you have duties elsewhere?" Father? thought Cat. He is the old king?

"Duty calls," replied the voice, "She'll be here soon, if she's coming at all, and yer may need my help to convince her to render her help to you." Cat's mind raced. They were waiting for a woman, and they needed her help. Exactly what was happening here? A figure, the owner of the voice, stepped out from behind some of the trees and made it's way to Vletch.

"Hang on," Vletch grumbled as he fumbled with his zipper, "I'm not done yet!"

Cat watched the figure in fascination as it slowly made it's way into the light. She knew who it was from the voice anyway, and was not surprised to see moonlight glinting of the worn and wearied features of Moodle, the gate-keeper.

"She might not come tonight," said Moodle to his son.

"I know," said Vletch, "But the debt that you so easily discharged onto me has long since been repaid and I feel it's about time that she knew this."

Moodle chuckled. "Power is not all that it's cracked up to be?" He laughed again, more of a cackle this time. Cat sat very still, observing all of this. "She'll not come tonight, I know the old beast well, me lad. Tonight is a full moon, and she'll not show herself much tonight. Maybe yer should have held station near some sheep." Moodle laughed uproariously at this. Cat didn't find it to be such a funny joke.

The King made a fire, and the two men sat around it, not talking much. Just before dawn, the King got up, stretched and waved at Moodle. "Goodbye father, I expect you can make your own way back." Moodle also stood up and stretched.

"The next moonless night, that's when I think she'll be back." he told King Vletch. While they said their farewells, Cat quietly stole away. She had to think about all that she learned tonight, and with both the knight and Dog locked up, Cat had to do all of the thinking herself.

It was half a month later. Cat had found the cell that the knight and Dog were sharing and had been visiting them each night, planning their escape with them through the barred windows and bringing them both news of what was happening outside the cell. They had over the last two weeks or so concocted a plan to break out of the cells and tonight was the night that the breakout was to occur. They had chosen the darkest night of the month, when the moon was barely a sliver in the night sky and cast no light whatsoever. It helped matters somewhat that sky was, as usual, overcast with storm clouds. Cat was perched on the window of the cell, looking in through the bars.

While the trio contemplated their escape within the city, out in the countryside Moodle and Vletch were in deep discussion. An observer from afar would have thought their conversation strange, for they were addressing a thick clump of tall trees.

"You dare disturb me?" bellowed a voice from inside the clump. This was a really big voice.

"Milady," began Vletch ingratiatingly, "I bid you greetings."

"Hiya, Scales," said Moodle charmingly, "You're right real pain in the rear, yer know that?"

Cat was plotting with the pair through the bars in the cells. "Has he done the supper rounds yet?" she asked them.

"Yes," replied the knight, "He's only just now left with the empty plates and he shouldn't be back until midnight at the change of shift. The other one will be asleep in five minutes and will probably only wake when his shift is over."

"Are you ready?" Dog asked Cat.

"Yes," Cat purred, "It shall be a pleasure." She leaped between the bars and into the cell.

"After all I did for yer?" Moodle was shouting. "This is how yer repay me?"

"You have already been paid in full, little man," said the deep voice in the shadow of the trees, "I also ensured my payment to you for my safety was made in advance. And here is your payment, standing next to you, bargaining with me. This is your bargain that I'm holding you to." The voice was so deep that it might have been thunder rumbling. It was loud enough that Vletch fancied he felt his sternum vibrate when the voice spoke.

"Listen, milady," said Vletch desperately, "Consider your payment full and final. You and dad traded, and you both got what you wanted. Now this... this is a separate deal. A whole new trade."

"Now why would I make more trades?" The voice chuckled, "Why would I choose to involve myself in the affairs of men? You sort your own problems out. The race of man has brought nothing but destruction to the world. Is it no wonder that, having destroyed all other races, they now turn their violence inwards? You can be consumed by your own violence, and the world will not even notice that you were ever here. You are each a tiny warlord."

"Not all of us," replied Vletch, "We have brought you safety. I guaranteed your safety in the hours of daylight for many years, and continue to do so."

"Only as part of a deal," rumbled the voice, "The race of man has never approached the race of Dragons in peace, only in violence."

"I've just about had it with yer," shouted Moodle, "We upheld our part of the deal, and we dealt honourably with yer, and now you wanna live out yer life in peace?" Moodle paused to grab another lungful of air before shouting, "Of course there'll be peace after yer've lived your life away, yer idiot! We can't very well wage war on Dragons if there aren't any about anymore, can we?"

"What dad is trying to say," said Vletch nervously as a huge shape made it's way out of the shadows and closer to the men, "Is that you shouldn't be so selfish." The huge shape came closer until it towered over the men. It slowly leaned down, gradually entering the tiny light cast by the fire the two men had earlier made. Moving into the light with ponderously slow speed, the shadows around the huge shape coalesced into the features of an enormous dragon. The head, now down at the height of the two men, was as large as a fully-grown horse and covered with rock-hard red scales that gleamed in the meagre firelight. Two huge flaming orange eyes with two yellow irises containing two slits of pale blue regarded the two men.

The jaws, easily wider than a man, opened to speak, revealing, in addition to a dual-row of razor-sharp teeth, canines the size of a man's forearm. "You, of the race of man, speak to me of selfishness?"

Vletch cleared his throat to speak again, "We feel that, you know, what with you being the only dragon left... well, you can save the last egg. You can have another dragon if you hatch the egg." Vletch paused, trying not to imagine what those teeth could do to him before diplomatically continuing, "We, of the race of man, are trying to save the last egg. We feel that it's a little self-centred on your part to only worry about what's going to happen to you."

"Listen, yer bloody great flying lizard," Moodle broke in, "We dinna expect kindness from yer, understand?" Vletch couldn't help but think that his dad should really be choosing his words with more care. Moodle, oblivious to his son's anxiety about being eaten, continued, "Yer no' interested in saving the last of yer kind, bitch?" The Dragon grinned a reptilian grin and ominously moved it's head closer to Moodle, two great flaring nostrils advancing on the old man. Moodle, to his credit, never even flinched when the dragons enormous jaws closed over him. He just raised a hand as he was engulfed.

Cat, dragging a strip of cloth torn off of the knights shirt, had padded out from the cells containing the trio. As expected, the current guard had followed his usual routine to a tee and had fallen asleep the minute the previous guard had left. His reasoning was sound – the only criminal currently occupying the cells was too stupid to even complete his first and only crime. Neither him nor his dog would fit through the bars of the cell and thus the guard felt, quite wrongly as it turned out, that having some shut-eye would do no harm.

Cat made her way to the guard, asleep on his chair at a table. Leaping onto the table, she quickly and very quietly set about hunting for the keys to the cells. Luckily, they were lying right on the table itself. She carefully dropped the cloth onto the keys and pawed the bunch of keys into the cloth, taking care to make sure that each key was separated by the other keys in the bunch with a little piece of cloth. After a little while the keys were fully wrapped up. Certain that there would be no clinking to wake the guard up, she gingerly lifted the bundle in her mouth and leaped onto the floor before making her way back to the cell.

Back inside the cell, the knight carefully and silently unwrapped the bundle and tried each key in the lock until the lock clicked open. Making hand signals at the other two (which they didn't understand anyway), the knight stepped out of the cells. So far, so good. They still had to escape the dungeon and after that the palace walls, but at least they were out of the cells. Tiptoeing past the slumbering guard, they followed Cat down the corridor. The hardest part of the jail-break was a complete success.

"You didn't have to do that," rumbled the Dragon a tad reproachfully at Moodle. Moodle was holding an umbrella-like contraption over his head, only instead of wires, this one was constructed out of blades. The Dragon had closed her jaws over an umbrella made of blades. "I wouldn't really have eaten you, you old fool!"

Moodle grinned a maniacal grin, "Oh, I don't know about that, milady. One never knows, with a lady."

"Er," said Vletch nervously. The sight of seeing his father engulfed by those huge jaws had shaken him. Hearing the Dragon howl in pain had, in addition to partially deafening him, made him very happy that he had already emptied his bladder before coming here.

"This king," rumbled the Dragon, indicating Vletch with a talon larger than a cartwheel, "He has turned out very well, don't you think?"

"Well, yeah," replied Moodle, "It's in his genes, yer know. He gets that from me."

"Perhaps," suggested the Dragon with a toothy smile, "My noble magic has rubbed off too."

"Er," Vletch contributed to the discussion.

"Don't go taking credit, yer crafty wench," Moodle replied, "All yer magic did was get my seed into 'is mum, remember? My bow was firin' blanks. Yer nobility had nothin' ter do wit' it. And anyway, you got safety and sanctuary all these long years, sleeping on my damn library, didn'cha?"

"Oh," said the Dragon, "But I have to admit, I rather like the idea of a kingdom of man ruled over by a man with the blood of Dragons."

"I expect yer would," replied Moodle, "Banish the thought, it shall never happen."

"Um," said Vletch awkwardly. It was one thing to be standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his father facing grave danger, but standing there listening to the incident of his conception was a bit much for the king.

"You are repulsed by me, yet here you are to request my favours?" thundered the Dragon. "Why would I help you now, when you flat out deny that a kingdom could be ruled by the blood of Dragons?"

"Um, yes," said Vletch, "If I could just get a word in here? We seem to be getting side-tracked."

"It doesn't matter," replied the Dragon, "I want nothing to do with the race of men. I will not help you depose and slaughter one another to get an egg that may not even be alive anymore."

"There's a chance," said Moodle quietly, "Yer need not be the last of yer kind, lady."

"Oh but I am," replied the Dragon turning to face Moodle squarely, "There shall be none after me; the chance that the egg is alive... that's a small chance, and not one I'll bet my life on."

"It is but one life, milady," said Moodle, cocking his head to one side, "Yer'll be dead eventually anyway. Everyone dies. Even Dragons. And what will yer have to show fer it? A slight memory amongst the older folk, and after they all die, no one at all will remember you. Yer'll be a legend, a myth, that's all."

"Ah," said the Dragon with another toothy smile, "As a legend, I'll live on forever, see?"

"No," said Moodle, "As a legend, Dragons will live on forever. YOU, milady, the last Dragon, yer'll not live on in memories down the ages. When people ask, 'And what of the Dragons', they'll be told of the noble creatures who once worked their magic fer a better world. And when those selfsame ordinary folk ask 'And what of the last Dragon', they'll be told that she never bothered to defend the last child of her kind. Dragons will lie eternally immortal in the minds of men. You, milady, will die alone and hated, having accomplished nothing. Yer've a chance now. Help us free the last egg and you too have a chance of the immortality granted only to the gods."

"You are persuasive, puny human." said the Dragon. She appeared to consider this for a little while, "But, alas, I fear you are not persuasive enough. Why should I bring another Dragon into this world that hates and reviles us? Is it not better that I die alone, and not subject another living being to the superstitions of men? For you see, sooner or later this egg will hatch into a Dragon, and this Dragon will sooner or later be the last Dragon too. What then, of miserable loneliness? This young hatchling will be as a daughter or son to me; why should I want it to suffer my fate?"

"It will not suffer," said Vletch, entering the conversation, "I shall see to that, milady. But the alternative is much worse."

"There's an alternative?" mused the Dragon. "Tell me of this alternative, small man."

"The knight might free the egg."

"Ah," said the Dragon, "But he cannot hatch it."

"Not now, no." said Vletch, "But the minds of men are curious and inventive. One will come along sooner or later that will find out how to hatch a Dragons egg. And then the hatchling will be born into a world without Dragons. Even if the knight does not free the egg, the wizard who stole it has a castle filled with clever men, and one of these men will bring a sad and lonely creature into this world. If you do it, the little dragon has a chance at happiness. If you don't, well... you see, the world is filled with clever men, milady."

"Not, I fear, clever enough," growled the Dragon.

"Not yet," replied Vletch, "But men get cleverer all the time. This wizard has tamed the very lightning; who's to say he won't learn how to hatch an egg?"

"Tame lightning?" asked the Dragon in disbelief. She laughed a little, making the trees nearby shiver a few leaves off, "You must think I was born yesterday, little king. You forget that the race of Dragons were already old and wise and cunning in the ways of magic when the race of men were still eating raw meat and sleeping in trees. We have forgotten more magic than your race have ever dreamed about, and yet, we did not tame the lightning."

"It's what I heard, what my sources told me," said Vletch stoically, "I expect that the very first person to make fire was also met with similar scepticism, milady."

The Dragon looked thoughtful at this, "He wouldn't hatch the egg, even if he could. It is his source of power, after all."

"He doesn't have to," said Moodle, "Everyone dies eventually, milady. He will die too, one day. His succession may not display the restraint that he has. They may not long for the power of the egg but instead be happy with a pet dragon, chained fer all eternity to act as an ornament. Some men are like that; they would capture a beautiful thing, not out of need, but out of sport. Some men get their sport from the indignities of others, lady."

"NEVER!" the Dragon roared, "That egg will not hatch, for that secret will die with me!"

"Anyway," continued Moodle in the same amiable tones, "I ne'er said that Dragon-blooded men couldn't rule kingdoms, I said that Dragons couldn't rule kingdoms of men."

"And why is that, old man?" asked the Dragon, still visibly upset.

"Because men will only be ruled by men. Even women have a hard time ruling a country; you can imagine what will happen the first time a Dragon presides over a court of men. Dragons should rule over Dragons."

"Point taken," said the Dragon, "Humans, I fear that you have given me much to think about. However... " The Dragon paused for awhile, presumably thinking about what it was she should be thinking about. "I cannot assist," she said shortly, "To do so will bring nothing but pain. You are, as they say, on your own on this." She retreated from the firelight, her features receding into the darkness. The black shadows that had been hers soon merged with the trees, and the two men were left standing alone.

"Well, father," said Vletch, "That went poorly."

"Oh I dunno about that," said the old man walking to his horse, "That's the best we could do, yer know."

"Think she'll continue spending each day sleeping on the tower now?" asked Vletch.

"Of course," said Moodle to his son, "Her safety was the price of bringing yer into the world. Yer're here, now why would she forfeit her fee?"

"I don't know," said Vletch miserably, "I was sort of banking on her to help the hatchling."

Moodle grunted in a non-committal sort of way and mounted his horse. "I expect," he said, leaning down to address his son, "That yer'll find yer own way back." With that he reined in the horse and turned away. Vletch made his way to his own horse. He had his doubts that the knight was even capable of retrieving the egg, even with the help of the Dragon. After all, the bumbling fool had never even found the Dragon on top of the tower, regardless of all the clues Vletch had thrown his way. Vletch thought long and hard on the ride back to the palace. The Dragon was correct, he thought, the race of men are good at violence and war. Perhaps then, Vletch thought, he should play his strengths...

Lenchen's commander of the army was having serious doubts about the efficiency of his army. "Tell me again," he prompted Lectrac, "How will this work?" They were standing at the entrance to the training grounds within Lenchen's castle and watching Lectrac's apprentices set up the newly created lightning-sticks. Large and complex pieces of machinery had been carefully moved up from the workshop beneath the castle and all of the standing army was being instructed in the use of this equipment. Elsewhere, specially made boots with rubber soles were being made.

"Well, it's all very simple. We've even done it with special colours so that you'd find it easier to remember." Lectrac cleared his throat with a small cough, "You place the spears in the charging-station," here he raised his hand to point at the nearest machine, "You'll find that it fits in only one way, so you won't get it wrong even if you tried. Then you turn the charging-station's wheel at least ten complete cycles." Lectrac indicated the large wheel on the machine, specially made with hand-grips for two pairs of hands, "Then you remove the spear taking care to hold it by the green half only. After that, the spear is ready to use. Simply touch the target or enemy with the copper end of the spear and they'll receive the discharged energy."

"You realise, don't you," said the commander conversationally, "That if it was all that simple to touch the enemy with a metal pole we'd just bayonet them with a sharpened spear?" Earlier there had been a small demonstration of the discharge of energy. A single spear was charged with only five cycles in the charging-station instead of the full ten cycles. The discharge had blown poor young Alfred right out of his boots and halfway across the training yard. It was a very impressive display and was made all the more impressive when the men had been informed that the spear was only at half charge. Alfred had to be lead away for a change of trousers but was otherwise unharmed. "This spear of yours," continued the commander, "It's way too flimsy for battle. Why not make it more like a bayonet than a fishing pole? In this state it won't penetrate even the thinnest of armour."

Lectrac smiled at the commander's naivete, "It doesn't need to penetrate armour, commander. Simply touching the armour would be enough. This doesn't work like a blade would."

The commander was still not convinced, "Well, what about when the charge is finished? If it were like a bayonet then at least we could still stab the enemy. Right now, once we've used up the spear it'll take the soldier another three minutes to use the charging station to charge it again." He paused briefly to fish some tobacco and paper out of his pockets, "You want my men to tell the enemy to hang about for a bit in the middle of fighting? I reckon if you made the end solid steel instead of two prongs of copper my men could still use it as a bayonet after the charge ran out."

"It won't work with a single piece of metal, commander," replied Lectrac, "That energy needs two prongs at the end of the pole to discharge properly. If there was only a single steel shaft in the spear then the spear wouldn't store the energy."

"This won't work," said the commander unhappily, "When soldiers fight, they need a weapon that works more than once. They need their weapon to work the second time, and the third time, and the fourth time... they need to the weapon to work as many times as there are enemies on the field." The commander rolled a cigarette.

They watched the training yard in silence while the soldiers were being instructed by Lectrac's apprentices. The importance of rubber boots was being explained. Lectrac finally broke the silence, "I'm sorry, commander, my orders are to arm you with these weapons. I'm not a soldier so I'm not sure how these will work on the field of battle. Lord Lenchen was very specific about your men being armed with these."

The commander grunted, "If you don't know how a soldier uses a weapon why didn't you ask us before you designed it? We would've told you all of this before you worked so hard making an unusable weapon."

"I didn't design a weapon," said Lectrac helplessly, "This wasn't supposed to be a weapon, commander. I thought that harnessing the power of lightning would help all of us. I made these machines for the good of the city. You know... providing light, and powering the mills. That sort of thing."

There was more silence. The commander lit his cigarette before eventually speaking, with less volume and bluster than he usually used. "This energy you've discovered... what's it called, lad?" he asked Lectrac kindly. Privately, the commander thought that it wouldn't be the first time that a man found something that could be used for good; and that it wouldn't be the first time that such good things were turned into implements of war.

"Well," replied Lectrac a little shamefacedly, "Since it was for the use of the city, and I was the one to discover it, I named it 'Lectracity'."

The commander puffed on his cigarette. "Good name, that." he said. They continued watching the training of the men in silence.

"That is a good name," said Lenchen's voice from behind them. Lectrac went stiff and the commander choked on a cloud of smoke that inadvertently went down the wrong way. Lenchen, with his cat in his arms, stepped around them into the training yard and surveyed the soldiers. "I'm very happy with both of you," he said while still gazing into the yard and stroking the sleeping feline. "In fact," he continued, "I feel that since we all seem to be thinking only about the good of the people, it's only fair that I bring you both into my confidence." Lenchen spun on his heels smartly and faced the two horrified men. Looking at their expressions he said, "Oh don't look so shocked, please! This is my castle, I am the tyrant and despot, and I go where I please. If it pleases me to stand behind my citizens, well, then... who will object?"

"Er, no one?" answered Lectrac a little hesitantly.

"Exactly!" replied Lenchen with his usual cold smile. "Now tell me, Commander, about that trouble you had last month when old Penworth got drunk and tried to hang his wife in the village square."

"Yes sir," said the commander snapping to attention. "There was no trouble, Lord. We got to him before he was able to carry out his intentions. You, Lord, sentenced him yourself. He's not to be given strong drink for the next six months, Lord, as I recall from your sentencing."

"Ah, yes," replied Lenchen, "And I believe you had trouble securing him in chains that night he was arrested?"

"Well," said the commander nervously, "He was armed, Lord."

"Armed?" asked Lenchen.

"Yes, sir. He'd a bow and two arrows, and was threatening to shoot the first two men who stepped forward to stop him."

"Dear me," said Lenchen, "How did you prevent him from doing exactly that? After all you did stop him, did you not?"

"I ordered my finest archer to shoot him in the leg, Lord."

"Ah, I see. It all becomes clear now. This is why he was limping during his trial, right?"

"Well," the commander tried to explain, "It was a light arrow that we used, and his leg will heal in time. The important thing was that we maintained the peace."

Lenchen turned back to face the training yard, his hands clasped behind his back. "Imagine this, commander," he said after a little while, "Just for a little while, imagine how much better it would be for you to keep the peace without causing my criminals to bleed all over my land. When you need to arrest those criminals who wish to avoid the pleasure of my cells, wouldn't it be better to arrest them without shooting them in the leg? You are causing extra work for the castle nurses, after all."

"If they'd only come quietly I wouldn't have to shoot them, my Lord," answered the commander coldly, "With all due respect, my Lord, I'm a professional soldier. I don't find joy in shooting drunken old men!"

"Your wish is my command," said Lenchen turning back to face the two men, "With these lightning-sticks at half-charge, commander, you need never draw a drop of blood from any criminal again. One quick prod and they shall be subdued painlessly and without violence. You shall be officers of the peace, commander, and even criminals shall endure no wounds nor lasting pain when you arrest them."

The penny finally dropped in the commander's head. "Very well, Lord," he said with a new-found admiration for Lenchen in his voice. "Very well done, my Lord"

"Yes, commander," replied Lenchen, "We are entering a new age of enlightenment and reason. With technology, we can even treat our criminals in a humane and decent manner. We can leave our barbaric history where it belongs... behind us. Lectracity allows us to power the mills, and make light at night. Happily, it also lets us reduce the need for violence as well. A success all round, even for a tyrant such as myself."

Lectrac coughed nervously, trying to enter the conversation as the bearer of bad news without incurring the wrath that the bearer of bad news traditionally incurs. "My Lord," he addressed Lenchen, "If I may be so bold as to point out that the commander is still correct about one thing. This weapon will be no good on the battlefield. For criminals, because of the low numbers that will be encountered at a time, these lightning-sticks will work rather well. But they only work once before needing to be charged again. On a battlefield this will be no good to the soldier."

"Ah, Mr Lectrac, I see that you still never fear to question my wisdom," said the wizard. Lectrac looked uncomfortable at that. "Your Lectracity was never for the battlefield, Mr Lectrac."

"But we're training with it, Lord" said the commander, "We've been training for the battlefield all along, and now we have these things. Why make us all train, Lord? To prevent crime only a few of us need it, but you are outfitting all of the men with this. Why?"

"Oh dear me," said Lenchen with a small chuckle, "You were never training to fight other men, commander. You were training to fight a creature of great size, intelligence and above all, ferocity."

"That's even worse," said the commander, "These lightning-sticks won't penetrate thick hide at all."

"They won't have to," said Lectrac to the commander, "The Lectracity will work through any hide no matter how thick it is. Only rubber will stop it and no animal is made out of rubber."

"Besides, commander," said Lenchen, "It is not exactly hide that the Lectracity will be working through."

"It's not?" asked the commander in confusion, "What's this creature made of then?"

Lenchen turned again to watch the men in the training yard. He eventually answered, "Scales, commander. Huge scales that will deflect the heaviest arrow. Huge red scales."

The knight, Dog and Cat took shelter in a tiny alcove that they found not far from Lenchen's castle's entrance. They had entered the little village the night before, the knight disguised as a travelling beggar, with Dog on a leash. Cat had simply stalked in with them as if she owned the place. The first night was spent sleeping in a haystack left by a farmer on the edge of the main marketplace. Come the morning, they had awoken and made their way straight to the castle, where the knight was given suspicious looks by the guards until they all left. Lenchen, unlike Vletch, took his personal security very seriously. All the palace guards were large and well tooled up. Cat had eventually searched for and found the vantage point that they were now in. They gazed at the castle entrance, noting the high walls, the rows of spikes on top of the walls and the well-trained and well-armed guards on patrol.

"It's probably in the castle cellars," said Dog morosely, "Probably surrounded by guards as well, no doubt."

"Anea said that Lenchen used the cellars for training his apprentices," said the knight, "I doubt that he'd run the risk of having an untrained apprentice accidentally draw power from the egg."

"If it isn't down below, then it's up on high," said Cat, "No on hides anything on the ground floor – they either bury it deep underground or keep it high up out of reach."

"You'll get to it then," said Dog.

"That won't be much help. We need you to get to it," said Cat. "Even with a bag to carry it in I may still have trouble. I won't be able to carry it. I'll find it for you, but the whole fetching thing... well, that's a doggy expertise, aint it?"

"Very funny," replied Dog, "I'll have to be able to get in after you find it and the last time I checked I'm a big dog. Something tells me that the guards may notice a thief the size of a small pony entering the vault that houses the egg."

"I'll create a diversion," said the knight, "It shouldn't be hard."

The knight was in Lenchen's court, awaiting judgement in front of Lenchen. His opportunity for mischief however, was severely constrained, firstly by the chains and leg-irons that he was placed in and secondly by the large guards who flanked him. Further limiting his options, Dog had been placed on a leash, the other end of which was gripped tightly by one of the heavier guards. Lenchen gazed down at the accused from the throne he was seated on. He was, as usual, idly stroking the content feline on his lap.

"So... you are the famous vault-robber, Remia the Unholy?" he asked the knight grimly.

"That's right," answered the knight confidently, "I'm a wanted man, I am. Infamous throughout the lands to the east. I've robbed the mightiest Kings of their very crowns without them even noticing it had gone."

"It's very odd," replied Lenchen, "I wouldn't expect a man of such vaunted talent to stoop to stealing vegetables from a poor grocer."

"Everyone has to eat," replied the knight.

"Even so," Lenchen continued, "Ignoring all the wealth you have no doubt accumulated from all those crowns you've stolen, one would hardly think that a crown-stealer would find himself caught in the act of onion-theft."

The Commander, who hadn't yet given his testimony, interrupted with a small but polite cough, "Ahem. Not onions, my Lord. Potatoes."

"Sorry," said Lenchen with another grim smile at the accused, "Potatoes. You got nicked stealing potatoes!"

"The dog too," said the Commander, "He was helped by the dog. The dog created a diversion by grabbing the meat from a butcher. While the crowd chased the dog, Mr Remia here grabbed a sack of potatoes and legged it down an alleyway. Luckily he was seen by a sergeant who gave chase and," here the Commander paused to consult his notes, "Apprehended the miscreant trying to sell a potato to another guard, who was also in uniform."

"Most unwise," said Lenchen.

"The dog got away but was later spotted leaving the castle with a large sack. We gave chase and after considerable effort by my finest men, we apprehended the canine. The sack was, unfortunately, not recovered, but at least we got the dog," said the Commander, "I don't think he expected that."

Lenchen was thoughtful for a moment. "Who didn't expect that, Commander? The dog or the thief?"

"Both of 'em." the Commander replied promptly.

"Even the best criminals get brought to justice," said the knight meaningfully.

"That may be so," said Lenchen even more deep in thought, "But even the worst criminals don't take their loot straight to the authorities. I feel that there is more to you than meets the eye."

Lenchen appeared to remain in deep thought for some time while the court remained silent. When he spoke again it was in an altogether much lower and more ominous voice. "May I tell you a story?" he asked the knight.

"This is your court," interrupted the Commander, "You can do as you please, my Lord."

"Thank you for that reminder, Commander," said Lenchen coldly, "I was being rhetorical." After a small pause, Lenchen launched into his story.

"Once upon a time this land was home to those most fearsome of beasts... Dragons! Many men made a living out of hunting down and chasing off these beasts which ate their flock and set their houses alight. Some of these men were very good at his and made themselves a killing, haha, by this trade, while other men performed poorly at their ill-chosen career and simply made themselves very dead."

The knight listened to this with a falling heart but his face bore no expression whatsoever.

"In any case," Lenchen continued with his story, "One of these men was very good indeed. He was described not unlike your good self and he was helped by a dog not unlike your dog. Indeed, he was famous as he was proud, and he never questioned the people who hired him to slay dragons. Until one day, when the knight and dog had just completed the slaying of a particularly fierce creature on behalf of men who worked for a white wizard. Breaking the habit of a lifetime, the knight was struck with pity for the creature he had just vanquished, no doubt after hearing and believing its cunning lies, and vowed that he would take the life of the good man, the white wizard, who had hired him. Only problem was, due to some tragic accident of magic, the two heroes of my little story were left with swapped bodies. In other words, the man was imprisoned in the body of the dog and the dog was imprisoned in the body of the man." Lenchen paused again, studying the reactions of the knight, "What do you think of my story so far, oh noble thief?"

"A good story, as stories go," replied the knight a little less confidently than before, "I can't wait to hear how it ends."

"It ends the way it always ends," replied Lenchen, "It ends in tears, knight."

"You must be mistaken," said the knight, "I've no idea what you are talking about. I'm no knight."

"Once again I must state my uncertainty. It seems," said Lenchen, "That while you may not be a man who slays dragons, I am now unconvinced that you are a man at all."

A soft murmur rose from the people in the court as they digested this new turn of events. The knight remained expressionless. Lenchen beckoned to his Commander.

"If I may," said Lenchen to the knight, "I would very much like to bring in a further witness." The knight's spirits fell even further; he now had no doubt that Cat had been caught as well. Dog had stashed the egg away before being cornered but of course Cat knew where it was. Lenchen whispered something into the Commanders ears causing a small expression of surprise to briefly flash across the Commanders face. The Commander then turned and strode towards the exit of the court, at the very rear. The knight and Dog continued staring forward.

Seconds later a loud whistle came from the back of the court causing the knight to start towards the sound while Dog simply turned and looked for the whistler. The knight remembered himself too late and glanced fearfully at Lenchen to check if he had been noticed. Lenchen smiled, this time a little more warmly than he had previously. "Ah, my dear knight," he addressed Dog, "What strange circumstances you have been reduced to."

The knight had recovered himself by this time and asked the question that everyone in the court, including the Commander who had whistled from the back of the court, was thinking, "What are you talking about?"

"My dear sir," Lenchen addressed the knight once more, "Sit! Stay!" After a small pause he said, "Good Boy!"

The knight found his treacherous limbs folding under him as they obeyed the most basic of all human-dog conversations and so he sat and, to his annoyance, he found himself wanting to wag a tail he no longer possessed in response to the "Good Boy!" remark. His body simply wiggled in place instead.

Lenchen appeared even more pleased at the knight's discomfort. "My dear dog, while you can assume the body of a man you cannot, alas, act against your own instincts."

"I'm afraid you are mistaken," said the knight.

"Well, you're at least half right," replied Lenchen, "However, no human runs towards the sound of a whistle. Now, while every person in this court turned to find the source of the whistle from my ever obedient Commander, you, alone amongst all the people in this court, actually attempted to run towards him. In fact," and here Lenchen turned towards Dog, "Your lack of action to the whistle convinces me that you are no dog. Any normal dog would have reacted, how shall I put it... a little more physically to the call of a whistle."

Lenchen stared impassively at Dog and Dog stared back equally impassively. When it came to non-expressive looks dogs always have the upper hand. The court held its breath; there was obviously something happening here that only Lenchen and the knight knew about. "You have stolen something of mine," said Lenchen in a low voice with as much menace as he could muster, "You've the option of either letting me have it back, or submitting your life and the life of your dog as a substitute."

"I've no idea wh..." started the knight again, but was cut off with a low growl from Dog.

"Fine." Dog growled menacingly much to the surprise of everyone in the court, "Have it your way, wizard. Take our lives."

Lenchen appeared slightly annoyed that Dog also outdid him in the 'menacing words' department. When it comes to menacing vocal sounds dogs almost always enjoy an advantage over people, especially when the dog in question stands taller on his hind feet than many men and weigh more than most. Having the ability to crack a man's skull in his jaws also helped some way towards ensuring Dog's menacing vocal sounds truly were perceived as menacing. The crowd gasped. Talking dogs were something of a novelty.

Lenchen sighed. "You do realise, don't you," he said in exasperation, "That you'll die a horrible death if you don't come clean and I will eventually find your stash anyway? After all, how ingenious can a dog's body be when it comes to hiding things? You've no thumbs to even work a lock!"

"Well, good luck finding where I buried it," Dog replied smugly, "This city is completely filled with freshly turned earth."

"What makes you think that you'll withstand my dark magic?" asked Lenchen. He regarded Dog carefully, "You'll give up the location under the application of the right magic, I have no doubt."

"Unlikely," replied Dog, still maintaining his air of smug superiority, "We've taken back the source of your power, black wizard. You're left with nothing but parlor tricks." The audience in the court let out another little gasp at that. "That's right," said Dog in a slightly louder voice for the benefit of the entire court, "Anyone can now topple you and remove you from this position of power that you stole with your magic. You're empty of magic now and you're at the mercy of these villagers you've been crushing under your heel for so long." The audience held their breath; was it true? Was Lenchen a mere mortal and vincible man now? Was all his power gone?

Lenchen himself looked genuinely surprised at this. Very cautiously he raised his hands from his lap, where they had been stroking the slumbering cat and examined them in the manner of a drunk trying to count to ten but getting twelve instead. Still very quiet he beckoned to a guard who promptly stepped up and snapped to attention.

"What's your name and rank?" Lenchen asked the guard.

"Corporal Jobe!" said the guard and snapped off another salute on the basis that you can never go wrong with a salute when addressing the ruthless ruler. Very slowly Lenchen chanted a soft curse under his breath and waved his hand at the guard. A bright flash of light blinded everyone and when it was gone and everyone had stopped seeing purple after-visions from the light, the guard had vanished and a few wisps of smoke lazily made their way to the ceiling.

Well, not quite vanished; only vanished from sight. Everyone gazed at the floor where the guard had been standing. People in the front of the court were urgently whispering to those behind them. A whispered wave, carrying the news of what had happened, rose from the front of the court and made its way to the rear of the court where it eventually died down into silence as people became too shocked to say anything. The silence that now fell thickly and oppressively in the court of Lenchen was finally broken by a sad croak from the spot where the guard had last been seen.

"You are very convincing, knight, you actually had me believing you for a second," Lenchen sighed at Dog. He turned to another guard, "Take Corporal Jobe away and leave him in the pond. He'll be fine come tomorrow morning. Perhaps all that'll remain is a preference for long baths." Corporal Jobe, now in a much smaller and distinctively greener version of himself, was carried away by the guard.

"That's not possible!" breathed Dog in disbelief, "We have it, thus you must be powerless!"

"It would appear that you are mistaken..." said Lenchen with some satisfaction.

"Ahem," interrupted a high pitched voice from somewhere near the rafters. Everyone craned their neck to look at the ceiling. Everyone, that is, except for Lenchen. He seemed to take it as a matter of fact that there was nothing strange about a talking cat perched on one of his rafters. The rest of the court was agog. First the talking dog had thrown them, but now a talking cat? Were all animals talking now? A few of the faster-thinking farmers hastily started thinking about improving the living conditions of their animals.

"The problem is," said Cat to Dog from her place of safety beyond the current reach of the law, "I never found it where you said you put it."

"You never listen," said Dog with a small measure of annoyance, "I said it's under the third..."

"I heard what you said just fine," said Cat with reproach, "I just didn't find anything there but a note."

"What?" said Dog and the knight together.

"What note?" asked the knight.

"What'd it say?" asked Dog.

"She can't read!" hissed the knight to Dog.

"Do you still have it?" asked Dog.

In reply a small piece of paper drifted down from the ceilings until it was low enough for the commander to grab it. He looked at it, then inexplicably he turned it around and checked the other side. Wordlessly he walked over to Lenchen and handed over the note. Lenchen looked at it for a few seconds before turning it over in confusion. He nodded at the commander and handed him the note. The commander walked over to the knight.

"I'm afraid," Lenchen informed the knight and Dog, "That your accomplice, the talking cat, has double-crossed you." The commander handed over the note to knight.

"What does it say?" asked Dog.

"'Thanks.'" said the knight.

"That's all?" asked Dog. "Nothing else?"

"No. Just 'Thanks'. Nothing else." replied the knight.

"Did you check the other side?" asked Dog hopelessly.

"You double-crosser!" the knight howled at the ceiling, "You nicked it, didn't you?"

Cat hissed and spat at the knight below her. "I did no such thing. The damn thing wasn't there, okay? Just the note. If I'd wanted to steal it I wouldn't very well come back here, now would I, you fleabag?"

"Yes, you would," said the knight, whose instinctual canine distrust of felines was getting the better of him, "I expect you'd come to gloat at us secure in the knowledge that by the time some men got up there to nab you, you'd already be long gone. You're safe up there."

At that point something large hit the roof of the court giving the entire building a good shaking and dislodging the roof tiles. Roof tiles weren't the only things to be dislodged. When the tremor had finished, Cat found herself gazing at everyone from the table she had fallen onto. Dog was speculatively looking at her, regarding her recent descent as a stroke of luck.

"Well," conceded the knight, "Perhaps I was wrong. Not so safe after all, Cat?"

But Cat had no chance to reply; the whole court was in an uproar now. Lenchen's court was large and although it was packed with people behind the two on trial, it was filled with empty space in the front. This proved fortunate, for no sooner had the knight asked his question than a small pile of burning roof tiles and charred rafters landed on the floor in front of Lenchen. Scant seconds later the owner of the searing wall of flame that had created the hole in the roof thumped onto the floor, both crushing and extinguishing the burning debris. The Dragon drew herself up, her head scraping the rafters of the court. She turned one baleful eye to Lenchen, who nodded at the commander. The commander quickly hurried off.

"Your evil dies here today, wicked wizard, along with you." said the Dragon with a gust of almost painfully hot air. Lenchen didn't appear too worried by this announcement and adjusted himself in his chair, still gripping his cat who was quite reasonably attempting to get away from all of this to find a less dangerous place to nap. The Dragon grinned a merciless grin filled with teeth. "You cannot protect yourself this day, you black-hearted thief of lives," rumbled the Dragon at Lenchen, "For today, you see, I have in my grasp all that is the source of your power."

"What?" exclaimed Lenchen, "Again?"

"Told you I didn't take it." said Cat with satisfaction.

"I have your source of power, you puny mortal", thundered the Dragon at Lenchen.

Lenchen considered this for a fraction of a second before gesturing at a guard. One flash of light and a sad croak later, Lenchen commanded another guard, "Put this one with the other in the pond; it'll wear off by tomorrow." To the Dragon he said, "I don't think so. My power still works. Whatever it is you think is the source of my power I assure you, my dear, you most certainly do not have it."

The commander had by now returned with five men all armed with the copper spears. Lenchen gestured at the squad and spoke again, "Dragon, I needed no magic to protect myself from your vengeance. Look... no more magic, just applied alchemy. See how well you fare against mere men, not a wizard amongst them." The Dragon looked down her nostrils at the squad. Something must have warned her that those were not ordinary bayonets, for she very warily extended a single huge claw towards the commander. The commander thrust his bayonet forward and before it had even touched the old Dragon a flash of lightning arced from the edge of the prongs on the end of the bayonet to the Dragons claw. The Dragon gasped in pain, emitting a tiny jet of flame, as she was thrown back a few feet from the force of the discharge of lectracity.

"What new evil is this?" asked the Dragon in confusion once she had recovered. She flexed her limb, the one that had borne the brunt of the discharge. "This evil magic was in my very blood, coursing through my veins. I felt it pull my muscles!" Lenchen stared at the Dragon impassively. The Dragon stared at the squad in horror before asking Lenchen, "What have you created, evil wizard?"

"Tame Lightning," replied a voice from the rear of the court, "Like I warned you, my Lady, tame lightning." Vletch, accompanied by two men-at-arms, stepped into view at the back of the court and glared at people until they moved out of his way. Still talking, he and his two men made their way slowly to the front of the court where the Dragon stood in (a very literal) shock. "Regardless of your magic, Lenchen, superior numbers will provide an adequate match for your talents."

"You really think so, your majesty?" Lenchen smiled at Vletch, "Are you formally announcing that the kingdom of Vletch is declaring war on the kingdom of Lenchen?"

"No war, Lenchen," said Vletch, "You can kindly surrender and your life will be spared. Your powers will be stripped from you, of course, but that's a small price to pay in exchange for your life."

"You think it's that simple?" asked Lenchen, "I will simply give up my throne and power to a bully like yourself? I'm surprised you would even think that I would entertain the mere possibility. After all, a Dragon burst in here, claimed to hold the source of my power and threatened my life. That's a really tough act to follow, your majesty."

"Claimed to hold the source of your power," parroted Vletch woodenly, "And you believed her?"

"Well, why not?" replied Lenchen.

"Tell me, Lenchen," said Vletch, "Do you see any pockets on the Dragon?"

"What?" asked Lenchen with mounting suspicion.

"Well, no pockets on the Dragon, are there, Lenchen? Where could she keep your item of power?" asked Vletch. "Who do you think she handed it over for safe-keeping before she came here to sort you out." Vletch pulled out an unbelievably large sword. "I told her, though, that the times are changing. That men are more devious and cunning than ever before, and that men are growing ever smarter in the ways of battle. Dragons, once formidable foes in battle, are no match for magic and modern alchemy." The sword swished through the air as he made a few experimental swings. "This is why our lady with the flame-breath over here is the last of her kind."

"Not the last, not yet," interrupted Lenchen.

Vletch continued, "Men grew smart enough to overpower even the most powerful of creatures, leaving only one to roam the face of the earth." He sheathed his sword. "There is no need for war, Lenchen, for I will win. My men are outside your walls awaiting the outcome of this parley and they outnumber your army nine to one at least. Your magic won't let you win this war, so let's not have a war. You can go quietly."

"And if I don't, your majesty?" asked Lenchen, knowing that his entire court, his people, the ones he ruled over, were watching with bated breath.

"You can die with great fanfare." said Vletch simply. "I have the source of your power after all, and I've made sure that it is nowhere near here for you to use. You have no power anymore."

"At this rate," muttered Lenchen in irritation, "I shall have to build a second pond!" He gestured with both hands at Vletch's men-at-arms. When Vletch had recovered from the blinding light he regarded the two frogs on either side of him with some bemusement.

"It seems," he said, with some embarrassment to the world in general, "That I may have miscalculated."

"I expect so," said Lenchen carefully, "What exactly did all of you think was the source of my power?"

"What the hell happened?" whispered Cat to Dog. They had watched all of the unfolding events in silence, not because they had nothing to say but simply because they had been surprised by the sudden and sharp turn of events that had occurred every few seconds. "I thought the egg was the key to his power! Steal the egg, steal the power!"

"Good question." replied Dog in a soft voice.

"Well, what now? We have to steal the egg off of Vletch?" asked knight softly, lest he disturb the fragile negotiations between Vletch and Lenchen.

"Tell me," said Cat innocently, "Why exactly does Lenchen have a cat that is almost identical to me?" The other two turned to view the cat, still gripped in Lenchen's lap. It was, save for a few trivial markings, mostly the same colour and appearance as Cat. "Further," asked Cat, "Why is he still holding onto it? Surely there are more important things for him to worry about now? His own neck, for example?"

Meanwhile, Vletch and Lenchen were in deep discussion. "Well, perhaps if you'll return my property, we can consider this matter settled for once and for all." Lenchen was telling Vletch.

Vletch smiled ingratiatingly at Lenchen. "I'm afraid that will not be possible, Lenchen. The egg will go to my Lady here," he said, indicating the lumbering bulk of the Dragon, "I'm sorry, but there's no cause for you to hold onto the egg." Vletch paused for a second. "Especially," he added, "Seeing as how you don't actually need it anyway. Your power seems intact without it."

"You have no understanding," sneered Lenchen.

"We came here to ensure that you don't come after the egg, after all. Now that we know you don't need it, we can leave peacefully." said Vletch.

"Not me," thundered the Dragon, "I'm here to see that evil doesn't rise again."

"I'm sorry, too," said Lenchen looking up at the Dragon from his throne, "I mean to retrieve that egg or die trying."

"So be it!" roared the Dragon, dislodging even more tiles off of the roof. She drew in a great big breath and at that the commander raised his hand to issue the kill order to his squad.

"Wait!" cried Cat. She had been quietly and furiously thinking all this while, but now she leaped onto the floor between the Dragon and Lenchen. The court was silent again. The Dragon held her breath and the commander stayed his hand. "Tell me," she asked Lenchen, "What it is that you so desperately need that egg for?" Cat sat squarely in front of Lenchen, her tail swishing behind her as she listened attentively.

"It's a source of great power," said Lenchen simply.

"True," said Cat, "But, it's not one that you are using. You're powerful enough without it and I'd wager that if you haven't used the power by now you have no use for it in the future."

"I'd rather not share my reasons," said Lenchen stiffly.

"I see." said Cat. She licked a paw and groomed her face. "May I tell you a story, Lord? I'm sure it's one you already know very well... but... you see... the others here today, they may not know..."

"Wait, what?" said the knight.

"Hang on," Dog cautioned the knight, "I've got a feeling that perhaps Cat here remembers more than she cared to let on. Let her finish."

Vletch and the Dragon exchanged a look, and Vletch said, "I'm in no hurry, pray continue."

"A few minutes to stay an execution?" asked the Dragon, "Why not?"

"Hold on!" Lenchen raised his voice, and for the first time he seemed genuinely angry. Not just angry, but absolutely livid. "This is my court! I care not one whit what you others want. My orders will be followed and those who refuse to follow can go jump. The pond still has space after all!"

"Once upon a time..." started Cat.

"Stop! I order you to stop!" cried Lenchen, almost in a panic.

"Once upon a time," Cat repeated, "There was a young couple in love. As sometimes happens, a lovers spat occurred... a small thing made big in the inexperience of youth... The girl ran off, full of tears and hurt feelings. The boy, full of ambition and dreams, swore he'd woo her and win her back. The girl, perhaps foolishly, for folly is the trademark of youth, decided to hurt him and sent word back to him that she was betrothed to another."

"You have no right to do this." said Lenchen hoarsely. His eyes were bright and his cheeks were flushed.

"The boy, driven mad by a broken heart perhaps," continued Cat as if no interruption had occurred, "Sought help in winning his sweetheart back. In his inconsolable grief, he requested help from a mad old witch who could hardly remember her own name, never mind arcane magic. The spell didn't work. Or rather, it worked differently, which is the same thing in the end. The spell backfired horribly, and instead of turning the girl's heart, turned the girl's body."

"How can you do this to me," cried Lenchen, "I've done you no wrong! I don't even know you!"

"The poor girl found herself turned into a recently born kitten. Quite a shock, as you may imagine; one minute she's a sweet, if broken-hearted girl, and the next she's blind with a predilection for seafood. She was taken in by some kind people who took mercy on a blind mewling kitten and who placed the kitten with a litter of other newly born kittens. She suckled with the rest of them on their mother. Sadly, kittens, even the ones that used to be human, remember very little as they grow up. It might be more accurate to say that kittens forget very much of their early lives as they grow up. Trust me on this."

Lenchen said nothing. Perhaps he was not capable of speech at this point. His cheeks glistened in the gloom of the court but few people noticed this. All eyes were on Cat as she completed her story.

"But in spite of the holes in their memories kittens still manage to remember one or two things about their kittenhood. For example, this kitten, the heroine of my little tale, still remembers a day, soon after she was placed with her new family, when her lover, the grief-stricken boy, came to see the litter. He examined each kitten in turn, and then to her amazement he took another kitten away with him. True, the other kitten and our heroine were very similar in appearance. There was not much our heroine could do about it. Her mewlings fell on deaf ears."

Lenchen was aghast. "What are you saying?" he asked with new-found horror.

Cat stared pointedly at the cat in Lenchen's lap, "Who is that, Leonard?" she asked Lenchen innocently, with a sly feline smile.

Lenchen followed her gaze slowly into his lap, to the cat he had carried with him for years. He looked back up at Cat with a new expression on his face. Once again he looked at the cat in his lap, noting the similar appearance between the two cats in his court. "It's you," he breathed, almost too soft to even hear. It didn't matter. Cats, as Dog and the knight had been told repeatedly by Cat, have very good hearing. Cat licked a paw and groomed her face again, this time with a great deal of satisfaction.

"Wait a minute," said the knight to Cat, "This is your lost love? Lenchen?"

"Some things now make sense," said Dog, "For example, your lack of interest in reading and your spotty memory."

"Well," replied Cat, "I remember 'Leonard', not 'Lenchen'."

"This can't be," said Lenchen through his distress, "I had you all these years, didn't I?"

"I'm sorry," said Cat, "You had a house-pet all these years." She eyed the other cat and noted the similarity, "A really attractive pet, but still, just another cat."

"I took care of you waiting for..." began Lenchen, and then went silent.

"Any of this making any sense to you?" whispered Vletch to the Dragon.

The Dragon shook her massive head from side to side, "This is all new to me. I feel that the best course of action right now would be to roast everyone in this place and then fly far away!"

"Thank you for that," grumbled Vletch, "You do know that I'm on your side, don't you? Anyway, this is all very interesting but we're getting nowhere."

"I'd like to know," said the Dragon to Vletch while both still eyed the conversation between Cat and Lenchen, "What was he going to say next? What was he waiting for? Is the cat his source of power?"

"He was waiting, my Lady," said Dog to the Dragon, "For the egg to hatch."

"Why?" asked Vletch. Privately Vletch was reconsidering his decision to get involved, never mind that the egg was in fact saved. This was all much too bizarre.

"So that he could turn his cat into a beautiful young woman," said Dog simply.

Vletch and the Dragon both looked at the cat on Lenchen's lap. It had, in a characteristically feline fashion, decided to go back to sleep. "I would think, Lenchen," Vletch addressed Lenchen, "That once you got to be ruler of an entire village, well... almost a city... certainly a kingdom..."

"What this puny human is trying to say," interrupted the Dragon, "Is that you could have had a perfectly good human female after you came to rule the land. No need to make one out of a cat."

"I think you misunderstand," said Dog to both of them. "The story you just heard was no story, but real accounts of what Lenchen experienced. He fell in love but turned his sweetheart into a cat. Later he had second thoughts about what he'd done and so he wanted to turn the cat back into his sweetheart."

"I shall never understand human courtship," rumbled the Dragon.

"It's not usually like this," admitted Vletch, "In fact, it never is like this at all."

"So," said the Dragon, "Why didn't he turn her back, then?" She turned to Lenchen again, "Powerful wizard like yourself, killer of Dragons and Stealer of Thrones, you couldn't reverse a simple spell?"

"Ahem," said a high-pitched voice for the second time that day, "He tried to reverse the spell on the wrong cat. It's no wonder it never worked; his cat was never under a spell to start with. He used the wrong cat!" Cat paused before adding another "Ahem!", this time with extra emphasis.

Vletch and the Dragon looked at Cat and then turned to Lenchen who still had his cat on his lap. The penny dropped. "Bloody hell!" said Vletch under his breath. The Dragon nodded in agreement.

"I tried all the spells I knew," babbled Lenchen, "I learned all the magic there is to learn. All that there was to know about reversing spells, I learned." He paused to wipe his cheek, "Finally, out of options, I decided to use a young dragon, one still a child from the egg, to reverse the spell because, you see, everyone knows that..."

"That Dragons have the most powerful magic," finished the Dragon. She regarded Lenchen in silence. "You don't need the egg, nor a young dragon, you know," she said finally, "You've got the right cat here in front of you now. Any simple spell-reversal chant should work."

"Ahem," said Dog politely.

"What now?" barked Vletch. He was starting to get annoyed with all the throat-clearing that seemed to be going around. "You have something to say?"

"You see," said the knight, "It's like this..."

"Not another story," groaned Vletch, "Can we either just fight or go home?"

"I can guess," said Lenchen. He seemed to have recovered some of his composure now. "You two have switched bodies, right?" he asked Dog and the knight.

"Well, yes, but you already knew about that," replied Dog, "I don't think a reversal spell is going to help us in any way. It was a dying Dragons curse that got us. No human magic can fix us."

"Are you after the egg?" asked Dragon with a dangerous smile, "I can end your dissatisfaction with your bodies easily enough, if that's what you want."

"Let's not do anything rash," said the knight hurriedly, "We would like to be changed back to who we were, but of course we do not actually demand anything."

Vletch uttered a harsh laugh, "You want the egg to hatch, don't you? You want to use the young dragon they way we thought Lenchen wanted to use the egg?"

"We wanted the egg safe," said Dog stiffly, "We wanted to right what we did wrong. We did our best. The egg is safe. The young dragon will live."

"And," said the knight remembering the deal that was struck with Cat, "Cat will return to her human form. All will be balanced."

"Now," said Dog wearily, "All we want to do is leave." On that note, both the knight and Dog stood up. They turned to face Lenchen, and the knight gave Lenchen a small bow. Lenchen nodded towards his commander, who then went to the pair and undid all the chains.

"I'm glad, in a way, that you are not the evil man we thought you were," said Dog. "It is better that you did bad things for good reasons rather than good things for bad reasons."

"I'm not altogether sure that that makes any sense," whispered the Dragon to Vletch. And because she was, after all is said and done, a Dragon... a creature weighing several tens of tons, her whisper reverberated to the back of the court. It was therefore no surprise that Dog and the knight heard her clearly. Turning to face the Dragon, the knight bowed.

"My lady," said Dog to the Dragon, "We are forever indebted for your help here today. We know that you will take good care of the young dragon when the egg hatches."

The knight gave one of his sunny smiles. "Also, you're not the last dragon anymore. You're not alone," he told the Dragon.

Finally, they turned to face Vletch.

"You could've let on that you knew what we were after!" complained Dog.

"Wait a minute," said Vletch irritably, "Those other two wanted to kill you and you thanked them, yet I helped you find your way here and you complain?"

"They did bad things for good reasons," said the knight, "You did good things for bad reasons."

"Oh?" asked Vletch sarcastically. "I suppose all the good things I did was purely because of the blackness of my heart?"

"No," said Dog gravely, "You tried to help us retrieve the egg to discharge your own debt to the Dragon. You did a good thing, but for the wrong reason."

"The reason doesn't matter," said Vletch, "It's a thing we find to justify what we want to do. Often we first decide what we want to do, and only after our decision is made do we find the reasons to explain our actions."

Dog considered this. "You may be correct," he said finally, "Perhaps all that matters is what is done and not why it is done."

"I agree," said Cat. "It never is a case of 'the ends justifies the means', is it? After all, you did what you set out to do, didn't you? You saved the life of an unborn dragon. You also, by no means intentionally, averted a war that you two caused in the first place." Dog and the knight turned to face her.

"Oh Cat," said Dog mournfully, "What can I say? We'll miss you."

The knight thought carefully before addressing Cat, "Well, Cat, I have to say it's been no great distress to having to avoid not meeting you." He paused and then continued in a softer voice, "I'm saying that it was a pleasure having you with us, but I can't let it get around that I, a famous dog, actually likes cats." He winked at Cat and smiled. Then Dog and the knight turned to leave.

"Where will you go?" asked Lenchen.

Dog and the knight both stopped and turned around. Dog kept quiet while a tiny mischievous smile seemed to play about his lips. He waited for the knight to answer knowing full well how the knight's doggy brain will resolve a question like that. The knight looked slightly puzzled at the question.

"Where will we go?" he repeated Lenchen's question before answering it. "We are going," he said in all seriousness, "Out through that door over there." He pointed to the back of the court, past the crowd that was still watching the proceedings in fascination.

And thus the duo of Dog and the knight left by the door that the knight had indicated. It's true that they went quietly enough, and it's also true that they left Lenchen's court in ruins, but at least they knew well enough to leave when the story was over. Cat stayed behind. Her story was only just beginning.

  3. ## Epilogue

Lenchen gazed at Cat in silence. Cat returned his gaze in silence. There was an air of general expectation hanging over the audience in the court. Some of this filtered through to Vletch and the Dragon.

"Well," rumbled the Dragon nervously to Vletch, "This is embarrassing."

"Father should have been here," Vletch replied, "He loves embarrassed people. I think perhaps it's time we cleared out?"

"I agree," replied the Dragon. She turned her enormous snout towards the rear wall of the court and belched, leaving a slight scorching on the rear wall. In no time at all the court had emptied of people. Vletch was the last one to walk out, and the Dragon left via the newly created dragon-door in the ceiling. She noted with some satisfaction, as she left, that Lenchen was readying himself to cast a spell while Cat was hastily smoothing down her fur. Maybe even tyrants could have their own happy endings, if it meant that sweet young damsels got theirs in the process. Perhaps in a world like that there was hope for a young dragon hatchling after all.

  4. ## . . .

It was a dark and stormy night. This was not unusual – it was almost always dark and stormy in the kingdom of Vletch. A large figure thumped into the ground outside the grim-looking castle. This dragon-shaped figure landed with such force that the drawbridge lifted into the air and banged down again in spite of the hammering rain. This was fortunate, as it had the effect of calling the drunken old Gatekeeper to the door of the guardroom. The door opened and the old man squinted into the rain. Moodle still had his old job.

"Hiya, scales," he screamed amiably into the rain, "Whaddya want?"

"You have something of mine," replied the Dragon, "I think it's time you returned it."

"I thought yer'd gone 'way," shouted Moodle back at the Dragon, "I sold it fer a small bag of magical beans."

The Dragon lowered her head to the man by the door and sniffed him suspiciously before replying, "I shall never understand human thought. That was supposed to be funny, was it?"

Moodle said nothing.

"Would it be equally funny if I simply grilled you where you stand and take the egg myself off the shelf behind you?" the Dragon continued.

"Oh, all-right then, yer miserable lizard," said Moodle conversationally, "You needn't get all hot and bothered 'bout it. Gimme a minute, willya?" Moodle retreated into the guardroom and shortly returned with a small sack. "It's a wee bit smaller than I expected," he told the Dragon, still shouting to be heard over the storm.

The Dragon grasped the sack in a single huge claw, "Small things can make big things, given the chance. Even the tallest tree in the forest was, once upon a time, a tiny acorn."

Moodle scratched himself before answering, "When Vletch handed it to me before entering Lenchen's court, I could swear that it was smaller even."

"Yes," answered the Dragon, "It knows that its time is coming, much like an acorn that can feel sunshine through a carpet of snow." The Dragon flapped its wings and took off, leaving Moodle squinting into the night sky. He closed the door, and got back to his whiskey.

  5. ## . . .

It was almost a full ten years after the small and private wedding between Lord Lenchen and Catherine. The kingdom of Lenchen had grown almost 20-fold in that short ten years. The creation of devices that used Lectracity to make life easier had drawn many immigrants to the kingdom of Lenchen. The kingdom of Lenchen now sprawled over the countryside, filled with houses and factories. The sprawl had even spread towards the coasts on the east, and thus Lenchen had docks. This was fortunate, because the huge improvement in technology had meant that trading with the lands over the sea became even more important. The farmlands still remained, but were more and more filled with the effort-saving devices powered by Lectracity. Lenchen was growing, both in size and in importance. The old owners of fiefdoms had stopped laughing when their serfs left them permanently to resettle in Lenchen.

The sun was out, luckily, so many people saw the huge shadow which raced over the farmlands and the outlying areas towards the city centre. Lord Lenchen himself was in his office when the owner of the shadow landed, with great flapping wings and red rock-like scales, in the city square. A smaller version of this creature landed with less fanfare next to it. The large creature gazed around at its surroundings before speaking.

"Fetch the tyrant," she thundered at the few brave onlookers who had dared to stay around for a glimpse at a dragon. A slender figure glided into the view of the dragon.

"Now now," said Catherine, "Is that any way to talk to old friends?" She flashed a happy smile at the two travelers. "This must be the egg," she said tactlessly to the large Dragon, indicating the smaller dragon beside her.

The Dragon smiled at this, a little more warmly than she felt. "Yes," she replied, "And you must be the cat?"

"Point taken," said Catherine with another smile, "I see that you are well, my Lady. The foreign parts must be good for you."

"There are no Dragon Slayers there, Cat," said the Dragon simply, "Which brings me to my purpose here today."

"Yes?" said Catherine expectantly.

"We are looking," said the Dragon, "For a Dragon Slayer."

"I'm afraid that those creatures no longer exist," said Catherine, "Both the kingdom of Vletch and the city of Lenchen have decreed that slaying dragons is a crime. There are no more dragon-slayers in these parts."

"He is not in these parts," replied the Dragon. The smaller dragon looked around with curiosity – she had never seen people before. "We seek a knight who has been known to slay dragons. With him is a large dog." Here the Dragon winked an enormous eye conspiratorially at Catherine, "We believe that he may have told you of his whereabouts, Cat."

Catherine sighed. "I'm sorry, my Lady, but Dane and Dhlon told no one where they went."

"It's a pity," said the Dragon. She indicated the young dragon next to her, "We have a gift for them. Or rather, my young friend here wants to return their favours. She believes that it is of utmost importance that we restore to each what they each desire."

Catherine looked downcast, "I'm afraid I still cannot help you, my Lady; all I know is that they headed further north when they left here. It's possible that they eventually reached the pole, but I cannot say for sure."

"The pole?" mused the Dragon, "That is more than a year of travel from here." Catherine remained silent. "I believe," said the Dragon, "That we shall be leaving now as well. Perhaps we shall meet the two we seek, or perhaps we shall not. In any case, I'm very pleased to say that I was wrong."

"I would hurry, if I were you," said Catherine, "Dogs don't live all that long, you know."

"I understand," replied the Dragon. Formalities over, she stretched her huge wings and prepared to take off.

"What were you wrong about?" asked Catherine. The Dragon paused with wings outstretched.

"All you humans, Cat," said the Dragon with a toothy grin. She flapped her wings, demolishing two houses on either side of her, and then took off with the young dragon close behind.

  1. ## THE END

  2. ## Footnotes

  1. In a very literal sense of the meaning "killer magic".

  2. As the town of Lenchen received less than a letter a month, Bert had very little work to do at the post-office. However since the title of Postmaster didn't actually pay anything, Bert didn't really feel guilty about going in to work and simply reading books the entire day. Error: Reference source not found

  3. Turning large amounts of straw into small amounts of gold is actually very easy, even when you don't have a tiny imp with a name that needs ironing. For example, the replacement supervisor packed huge bundles of straw onto a caravan and set off for the neighbouring marketplace. He returned a few days later with a handful of gold dust.

  4. All over the universe, in all the worlds ever developed, the greatest fear that the majority of the population harbour is public speaking. Don't believe me? Go look it up – public speaking is listed as the greatest fear most people have, even more terrifying than being eaten by sharks, or being buried alive, or even forgetting a wife's anniversary. Presumably in one of the millions of galaxies in the universe, there is some creature who was reminded that it was his wife's anniversary just before being sealed in a coffin with a shark; this is probably the only thing more terrifying than public speaking.

  5. It's a well-known fact that trolls turn to rock during the day. Like most well-known facts, this is wrong in a very tiny but important detail. It is true that trolls are rocks during the day. However, they are also rocks at night as well. Trolls are, in fact, sentient rocks. It's just that they are nocturnal creatures and tend to sleep during the day and only move around and act alive at night. This is how the popular, but incorrect 'fact' that trolls turn to rock in the daylight became widespread. Many a troll-hunters last words were "Hey, weren't you supposed to be a rock right now?" Trolls, in fact, are fairly peaceful creatures but even pacifists tend to react poorly when their sleep is disturbed by some pick-axe wielding trophy hunter.

  6. Probably napping. Or chasing something. With cats it's hard to tell. Sitting still and hiding for hours while waiting for a bird to land within reach appears, to the observer, awfully similar to having a nap. Some feline naps probably started as a quiet stalking of prey but was so quiet that the stalker eventually fell asleep from boredom.

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I hope you enjoyed this book. I also hope that you got it for free on a special of some sort. I really really hope that you are going to rate it. As much as I get pleasure out of writing I get even more pleasure out of reading the reviews. With enough reviews I may even be tempted to revisit the Kingdom of Lenchen in my next book.

You can directly help make the next book happen by going to the link below and posting your review.

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/502275

Warm Regards

Lelanthran K. Manickum

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