"Yeah, I've never known it so quiet. Gee Tee's already laid off two of his staff. It's only him and me left now."
Peter paused for a moment, before saying,
"I'm really sorry Tank. I had no idea. You should have said."
"It's not something I like to talk about. Besides, it's not like he can get rid of me. He needs my help, as you've already seen," Tank stated, grinning.
"That must have been some special mantra to change you into something that small," ventured Peter, changing the subject.
"Apparently, the Roman dragons had a special knack of doing it, almost famed for it you could say. But like so much information in our world, it's been lost over a period of time. As a race we're not renowned for storing information, or even looking back into our history and valuing it for what it was. It's such a shame we can't do that. We've lost so much already that's so valuable. And what's most ironic is that our charges, the humans with whom you and I mix on a daily basis, they can do all of that. But we can't. What on earth does that say about us as dragons?"
Peter admired the way Tank got passionate about all sorts of different subjects. The depth of his feelings always shone through.
"Anyway," he perked up, "if I feel miserable about our lack of customers, I can always visualise you standing in the front of the shop in just your briefs."
As Tank fought back tears of laughter, Peter held his head in his hands, blushing with embarrassment,
"Yeah, thanks for that. I'm sure it will always help me to think of you as a spider."
"Anyhow, what brings you to our famed establishment on this bright, sunny day, Pete?" said Tank, spreading his wings wide and turning around.
"I wanted to talk to you about my work, and... Richie."
"Ah... I thought it might have something to do with that. She told me on Saturday night that you'd argued, and why," Tank said, sitting back in one of the oversized chairs, his tail hitting the floor with a THUMP.
Peter slouched in the opposite chair, letting his wings flop over the sides until the tips touched the floor. The two friends started chatting, with Peter explaining to Tank all about Manson and how he seemed to be manipulating Al Garrett. He also tried to convey his belief that Manson was dangerous, as well as his regret for falling out with Richie. For his part, Tank listened patiently for over forty minutes, considering carefully everything that he'd heard before he spoke.
"I think the first thing I should say, Pete, is that Richie feels the same way about your argument. She told me exactly that, and wants to go straight back to being best friends again. So stop worrying about that."
This brought a toothy dragon smile to his face, accompanied by two tiny dribbles of smoky flame from his nostrils. The realisation that he'd been worrying about nothing dawned on him, making him recognise quite how stupid he'd been.
"As for Manson," Tank continued, "You must understand, Pete, that it's very hard for me to gauge exactly what kind of person he is without having met him, and although some of the things you've described are a bit odd, perhaps Richie's right and you've just gotten off on the wrong foot."
Peter sat silently and nodded. Having learnt his lesson with one friend, he had no intention of falling out with the other.
"Or maybe you're right. Maybe Manson is a conman or a criminal and is planning some kind of crime. Either way, it's not as bad as you think. If that's the case, you should have no problem apprehending him at the appropriate time. After all, your superior dragon intellect should give you a huge advantage against even the cleverest human. Remember, no dragon in our history has ever been bested by a human. You're not about to become the first. This guy, if he's up to no good, stands absolutely no chance. And it's not like he's anything other than a human... right? You and Richie would both have noticed that."
Peter let out a long sigh.
"He's not a dragon. It's just that... that... that... well, he's different, almost... evil. I can't really explain it, but that's the only way to describe it."
"As long as he's not a dragon, you've got nothing to worry about," added Tank reassuringly.
A harsh coughing noise from just inside the door surprised the pair. Both turned to find the master mantra maker standing there, a stern look on his face, his square spectacles dangling from the end of his nose.
"I sometimes wonder if you're worthy of being my apprentice," he announced, his velvety smooth voice unable to hide the real edge his words carried.
Tank was used to the old dragon's eccentricities and sometimes mischievousness, but here and now he knew his employer had something more on his mind.
"If it's what I said about knowing my job's safe, I... apologise," said Tank, nervously.
A small frown, practically unnoticeable, developed behind his spectacles.
"No it's not. But I'll bear that in mind," growled the old dragon.
"Why don't you tell your friend about the mantra you found last month? You know, the one that produced the purple emperor butterfly, or as you like to call it apatura iris."
Peter smiled as he recognised the tone in Gee Tee's voice which implied Tank had been showing off with the butterfly's Latin name. Having spent decades alongside Tank in the nursery ring, nobody knew better than Peter did just how annoying it could be to spend ages learning about a plant or an animal, just to have Tank pop up out of nowhere, knowing everything about it, including its correct name. Clearly whatever had happened with the mantra, Gee Tee had taken offence at Tank's special talent.
"Would you perhaps prefer it if I told him?" Gee Tee asked Tank, in a tone that was more an order than a request. Tank sat dead still and nodded his head.
"Well, young Bentwhistle, one day my apprentice here was going through an assortment of Egyptian mantras, out on the shop floor. I was away at the time, trying to procure some high quality ink, which with every passing year gets harder and harder to find. So anyway, spotting one that he recognised, or so he thought, my clever apprentice decided to use the mantra to bring forth the aforementioned emperor butterfly. Reciting the mantra correctly, for it was nearly all in ancient Egyptian, and adding all his belief, he managed to produce a stunning emperor butterfly that duly followed him around the shop as he worked."
From the way in which Tank was squirming with discomfort, Peter had absolutely no idea where this was going at all.
"Now I'm sure I don't have to tell you about my apprentice's love of everything living," the old shopkeeper declared, looking directly into Peter's eyes. Peter nodded.
"When I returned to the store later that morning, I could scarcely believe my eyes. Flying freely around the shop was an Egyptian morphbeetle, one of the most dangerous beings the world has ever seen. And to make matters worse, there was my clever little apprentice, petting it at every opportunity. Needless to say we had to call in the King's Guards to get rid of it, what with it being a class nine mantra and all. We're not nearly well enough equipped to do it ourselves. Eventually they managed to facilitate its capture and subsequent termination, but in doing so, delighted in wrecking half my shop. I thought, at the very least, that episode would have provided a valuable lesson to my ever so clever apprentice, but from having overheard part of your conversation, it would appear I'm very much mistaken.
Tank, sitting up much straighter, tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together, the lesson, and the relevance to the conversation. Try as he might, with his employer bearing over him, his mind just went blank.
"For Bentwhistle's sake I shall put you out of your misery. The valuable lesson you should have learned, was that evil comes in many guises, not always visible to everyone. For you, the butterfly was as real as it gets, and you couldn't see beyond that, but as soon as I came through the door I recognised it for what it truly was," Gee Tee sighed as he finished.