* * *
Marvelling at his reflection in the darkened glass of the monorail carriage that had just pulled onto the platform of Salisbridge station, Peter decided that he liked his look. Not many did, but to be honest, he simply didn't care. His faded blue jeans, dark T-shirt and his Merrell walking boots were oh so comfortable, and that was all that mattered to him. Bouncing through the sliding doors as they opened, he slid into the nearest human sized seat, just before the doors whooshed closed and the carriage sped off in the direction of London.
He was excited. Not just a little excited, but Christmas Eve excited. His legs wobbled, his stomach churned and he couldn't sit still. Currently, there were many reasons for how he felt. His destination and what would happen when he got there were the most immediate, but he couldn't help thinking about the life changing evening he'd spent with Janice earlier in the week. He felt so happy. It was hard to put into words. It reminded him of his first flight, and the first time he'd successfully held human form, all rolled into one. Not entirely sure what the correct word to identify the feeling was, part of him worried that it might be... LOVE! All he really knew at the moment was that he was happier than he could ever remember, and that was enough for him.
Thoughts returned to the here and now as the dark rock face whizzed by outside the window, his reflection smiling at what was to come. On his way to meet up with Tank and Flash in London, the three of them would then head across the globe to Canterbury, New Zealand. Once there, it would be a short hop south west to Dingle Burn (sounds like something potentially very nasty, or at least that's what he'd thought when the accommodation arrangements had been made) for an overnight stay. The next morning it would be a trip across Lake Hawea, and then a walk that skirted around the edge of Lake Wanaka, before heading up the valley to Makarora. All of this just to see his beloved team compete in the Commonwealth Cup, something that takes place every third year.
The Indigo Warriors had been drawn against the Dunedin Dinosaurs in the competition. Random teams from various Commonwealth countries are drawn to face each other in a sudden death cup contest, with only a limited number of places available, so in theory teams may go for years or even decades without qualifying. Twenty-seven years had passed since the Warriors had last played and Tank, using his mysterious connections, had managed to procure three tickets to the match, supposedly one each for himself, Richie and Peter. I say mysterious...the last time the three of them had met up, Tank, Peter and of course Richie, the young lacrosse playing dragon finally managed to wangle out of Tank just where the so valuable tickets had come from. Not quite the detailed description the two of them had hoped for, all the strapping rugby player would say was that he had an acquaintance called Elbow Mudsmear, who he had 'something of a history' with regarding laminium ball. Elbow apparently worked for the company that catered for each of the professional laminium ball players' every need. Using all her charm, Richie also tried to get Tank to shed more light on what the king had said back in Salisbridge hospital after Peter's battle with Manson, about Tank nearly becoming a professional laminium ball player, but the rugby playing dragon's lips remained firmly shut on the subject.
Last week, however, Richie had inexplicably cancelled so Tank had offered the ex-Crimson Guard the ticket. Flash's response had been nothing short of priceless, going quite mad... running around in circles, waving his hands above his head and screaming how much he 'loved the big dragon' (hopefully he meant Tank). Surprisingly, Flash had never taken in a laminium ball match... EVER! Both friends were shocked when he'd told them this. His reason... apparently he'd been too busy with his duties and matters of global importance to have time to watch a... GAME! And although laminium ball hadn't featured in Flash's life before his accident (the assault in Antarctica by the now deceased naga), it sure did now, due in no small part to the time he had on his hands, having resigned from the Crimson Guards. Of course, the king had kept him busy, but dragons generally need little sleep compared with humans, particularly in their solitus form. More sleep is required in their mutatio (human) disguise mainly due to energy depletion caused by maintaining the human shaped mantras all around the clock, day in, day out. Because Flash didn't use up any magical energy in maintaining his human form, he didn't need to sleep so much and so had, for the first time in his life, a significant amount of free time. Unofficially following up information gleaned about Antarctica and the nagas had been his main priority. Part of his approach had involved scanning past and present copies of the telepathic papers. Of course he didn't know what he was looking for, but if there was a clue to be found, he was sure he would recognise it.
So here Peter was on his way to meet Tank and Flash at London's Pudding Lane monorail complex to board the intercontinental monorail that would transport them straight to New Zealand with only a minimal number of stops.
Without realising it, Peter reached his station. Bounding through the carriage doors, virtually as they whooshed open, he bombed up the steps two at a time, making his way to the furthest platform. Scanning the flickering LCD screens, he could see that his connecting carriage to Pudding Lane was due in twenty seconds. Closing his eyes, he counted down in his head. Sure enough, with a cool current of air washing over him, the monorail arrived exactly on time. Taking his seat, barely able to restrain the excitement pulsing through his forcibly tangled DNA, ninety seconds later he pulled into Pudding Lane. The three platforms that housed the intercontinental part of the station were as far away as possible from where his carriage had pulled in. With a complete disregard for how he looked, he threw his backpack over one shoulder and sprinted as fast as he could up the stairs, all the time weaving in and out of the other commuters, human and dragon shapes alike. Dashing across the concourse and down a set of steep stairs, he finally arrived at the appropriate platform with four minutes to spare. Frantically, he looked around for his friends, who were supposed to meet him here. Panic started to well up inside him, until...