Sitting down next to each other, it took nearly forty minutes for the three friends to catch up on what had been going on. Flash had of course been in America when the bombs had started to go off, and at first had been requested to go to Montreal, only then being told as he was about to depart, to change destinations and head towards Seattle. One of the first on the scene, both above and below ground, he left out most of the details, but even so the two friends could see what a heavy toll it had taken on him. Going on to explain how he'd only just arrived back in the country and learned about the Salisbridge bomb, it was then that he'd tried to contact them both, without any luck. So he'd sought out Gee Tee, who'd naturally told him what had happened, and where they could be found. On finding out, he'd come straight to the hospital. Both friends told him how grateful they were, and not just because of the incident with the guard. After that, it was just a case of sitting and waiting. But just like buses, new arrivals never seemed to turn up singly. Peter and Tank had been waiting for over eight hours together, for Peter it was over eleven in total. Flash's arrival had been in the last hour, and they were about to be joined by a new visitor.
Confident strides of someone walking resolutely down the corridor adjacent to theirs got them all sitting up. As soon as he walked around the corner, they were all kneeling down on the cold, shiny, unforgiving mezzanine.
"Get up, get up," barked the king.
Peter's surprise at seeing the monarch himself here was palpable. Clearly he'd received the message and had come to intervene personally. Just as he was about to tell the king how very grateful he was, the king said something that totally baffled him.
"What on earth are the three of you doing here?"
Momentarily confused about the message he'd sent, Peter remained silent as Tank explained about Richie, and now they were waiting to find out about her condition. The puzzled expression on the king's face, led to an even more puzzled one on Peter's.
"Ummm... Your Majesty," mumbled Peter, remembering to call him that, and not George, with all the other dragons around.
"Yes," responded the king, firmly.
"If you're not here because of Richie, then why exactly are you here?"
"That, I'm afraid Peter, is classified."
"So," ventured the hockey playing dragon, still extremely confused, "you mean to say that you didn't get my message?"
"I'm sorry youngster, but I've not had a chance to check my messages for many days now. But why on earth would you want to send me a message anyway?" asked the king inquisitively.
"Richie's been in there for over half a day, and no one will tell us how she is, or what's going on. I thought that just maybe you could help. That's what the message was about. And, yes I did realise that you were probably really busy with other important stuff, given everything that's gone on. Sorry!"
The king, almost as confused as the three friends, beckoned over the nearest guard.
"Is this true? Is their friend in there?" he demanded.
Instantly the guard replied.
"Yes, Sire," all the time looking straight ahead.
"Get me the physician in charge... NOW!" ordered the king.
For his part, the guard didn't even blink, instead, he turned around and disappeared off through a set of ominous looking double doors.
Turning back to address the three friends, Peter in particular, the king whispered,
"I'm sorry your friend's been hurt. I'm sure she'll be okay. I know for a fact that some of the best dragon doctors in the kingdom are here at the moment."
All three of them nodded, hoping that the king was right.
"I checked you know, as soon as I found out about the bomb here. I checked that you were safe and well."
"Thank you," Peter remarked, offering up a little smile.
"And it seems I need to offer the two of you my thanks, since you're both here. By all accounts that was one hell of a mantra you cast around that building son," the king said to Tank. "My dragons tell me that they've never seen anything quite like it."
"All it took was a little creativity, Your Majesty," replied Tank modestly.
"Hmmmm..." uttered the king. "Well thank you... both, for what you did. If you hadn't, well then I guess you know the consequences better than most. When all this is over, I'll thank you properly. Until then, you're going to have to make do with just a handshake."
Both friends shook the king's hand, both smarting from his grip, much to Flash's amusement. Just then they were interrupted by a female, human shaped dragon wearing a white coat, slamming through the double doors of the nearest room, the one in which Richie and Tim were no doubt in.
"Are you in charge?" demanded the king, steel in his voice.
"I most certainly am," replied the woman.
"Then I demand that you let these three dragons see their friend!" ordered the king.
The wave of relief rolling off the three of them was almost visible, so keen were they to see their friend. But unfortunately for them, things were never going to be that simple.
"I'm afraid," announced the woman, "that's not going to be possible."
"And why not?" growled the king, verging on losing his temper.
"I'm afraid, Your Majesty, we have something of a problem!"