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'Damn,' he thought, 'none of it makes any sense. Perhaps they fought about something, and he accidentally killed her. That would at least explain the damage to the door frame.'

Despondent, he stood and turned to walk back into the living room to call the king, when something caught his eye. Crouching back down to floor level, he examined the mark he'd just spotted on the dead dragon's thigh. It was a scratch of some sort, and it looked familiar. And then it came to him. NAGA! Goosebumps raced up his arms and down his back. It was the strike of a naga, he was sure of it, having seen some images of the strike to his back that he'd only just survived.

'The man exiting the building before I came in... that's what the feeling was. He... it... was a naga! Sorting through the pieces of the puzzle deep inside his mind, it all started to make some sort of sense. They killed the professor and tried to make it look like suicide because they're behind the laminium ball explosion at the stadium. And I bet they used the professor's wife as leverage in some way. That would certainly all fit with what he now knew.

This was more than just a phone call to the king. He was most definitely going to have to explain this in person. What to do about the crime scene though? That was the question.

30

Falling... Further and Further

With a satisfying thwump the fridge door closed. It was the second time she'd checked to see if the bottle of diet Pepsi was chilled. It was. She wanted tonight to be perfect, and she knew that was his favourite drink. Pulling in a deep breath, she counted to ten in her mind. Getting as far as three, she gave up, becoming all flustered and a little giddy at the expectation of what was to come. Glancing down at her watch, she then automatically checked the clock on the wall. Both read 6.58pm. Pulsing and tingling through her fingers, the excitement was tangible, knowing that he would be here in less than two minutes. If nothing else, he was a stickler for punctuality.

During his time away she'd missed him something rotten. It hadn't even been a week, but it felt like forever. Creeping over to the window, she peered round the curtain, looking down the garden path... just as he arrived. Sprinting out into the hall, she undid the lock on the front door, pulled it open and threw herself into his arms. Of course he caught her. It hadn't been totally unexpected. The embrace felt warm, safe, dependable and familiar: think a child's unconditional love for its parent. Peter felt complete, though previously he'd been unaware that anything had been broken or missing. That came as something of a surprise to him, which he pondered as Janice pulled away slightly and kissed him full on the lips. Tasting sweet, with just a hint of strawberry, he found himself enveloped and smothered with love. Eventually they paused and headed inside.

Dark, effervescent liquid snaked in and out of the polar chunks of ice. Taking the proffered drink, he sat down on the sofa next to her as they waited for their takeaway to arrive.

Their chat was mundane to begin with. Janice asked about his time away, and once again he explained that he couldn't reveal any details about it. Mentioning that it was okay, that he was glad to be back and had missed her like crazy, brought forth her legendary smile that lit up the room.

Feeling guilty about lying to her, he did consider it something of a necessity, given that his whole existence was one big lie. On many occasions he'd contemplated the entire concept of telling lies: big ones, small ones, necessary ones, little white ones, and had never reached a particular conclusion. In the end he'd given up, because he always found himself going round and round in circles. Looking at it more in terms of doing the right thing and living his life the right way, if he'd have told Janice he was going to New Zealand, he'd have had to answer so many questions... all with lies. How are you getting there? Oh, didn't you know, there's a vast monorail system deep beneath the surface that zips around at incredible speeds, pulling unbelievable G forces? Oh, and did I mention it was manned (ironic!) solely by and for the use of... DRAGONS! Why are you going to New Zealand? There's this really fantastic sport called laminium ball. Played by, yes you've guessed it... DRAGONS! Two of many questions he would have had to answer with lies. So while he did feel a little guilty, deep down he knew he'd done the right thing. On top of all of that, he'd never knowingly hurt her, or anyone else for that matter. He was kind, thoughtful, selfless and always tried to put others first and see things from their point of view or perspective. Something else that was important to him, and he hoped underpinned his ethos as a being, was to treat others as he hoped to be treated by them, although more often than not, this seemed to fail spectacularly. Usually he persevered with it anyway.

On enquiring how Janice's week had been, she went on to explain that it had been pretty dull, as usual, with one exception... the chairman of the sports club. Going on to describe his very odd behaviour in graphic detail, Peter was not only surprised to hear this, but completely and utterly shocked. While he wasn't on intimate terms with the chairman, he had played against him and alongside him during training (the chairman being a fellow hockey player), and he'd always got the impression that he was a pretty decent sort of guy. Pulling the cold glass up to his lips, letting the polar ice caps in it clink together, a faded memory surfaced as the fizzy liquid tickled the back of his throat. Goose bumps shuddered across his arms... MANSON! Instantly it hit him in stunning clarity. In the run up to the hockey match in which he'd faced Manson, he'd gone up to the stock cupboard for Janice and, once there, had caught sight of the chairman and Manson together. If his memory served him correctly (which it should have, after all, he was a dragon) Manson and the chairman were arguing about something. Recalling the chairman's face in excruciating detail, because of his eidetic memory, he certainly didn't look happy, far from it in fact. It was then that Manson had spoken, and although Peter hadn't been able to hear what had been said, the words themselves had caused the chairman to go paler than the lightest mayonnaise. He could remember the evil dragon, in his human form, handing something over, well trying to at least. Whatever it was, the chairman clearly didn't want to take it, but eventually did, after Manson had whispered something in his ear. Whatever the item had been, the chairman had hurried off and locked it securely in his office. Guzzling a little more of his drink, Peter wondered if the chairman's strange behaviour was somehow related to whatever it was Manson had passed on. Vowing to talk to someone about it, all his thoughts returned instantly to the present as Janice nestled her head against his chest, and for all the world, everything else was forgotten.

31