Before he could take a step, he had his answer. Steaming with cold and pure, unadulterated rage, the giant ice salamander queen slithered into view, her vicious fangs bared, her scales bristling. Flash instinctively threw some more books at her from the shelves, despite the futility of it. Her snarl turned to more of a smile as she realised that her prey had nowhere else to go. Backing up the aisle as far as he could go, Flash only stopped when his back rested against one of the giant bookcases. She followed him, her head swaying from side to side, powered by her injured tail. For his part, the former Crimson Guard racked his brain for anything that would help him out, but nothing sprang to mind. Having done all he could, he hoped, with what he supposed was one of his last thoughts, that he'd bought his friends enough time for them to get out of this safely. As the frosty queen pulled back her head, baring her icy-white, needle sharp fangs, ready to strike, Flash looked on determinedly, facing his death with strength, pride, dignity and courage. Just as the queen's head darted forward, a look of shock and confusion rippled across her face, before the loudest POP in the world sounded and her whole body disappeared for good. Slumping down against the bookcase, sweat racing down his arms and legs, Flash had never felt so relieved in his entire life.
Seconds later, two sets of footsteps closed in on the aisle's dead end. Tank and Peter skidded round the corner, both coming to a direct halt right in front of the glittering puddle that only moments earlier had been the ice salamander queen. Both friends had exactly the same thought at exactly the same time... that Flash looked an absolute mess. Both had the forethought not to say it out loud.
"Somehow I imagined you'd be a bit fitter," Tank deadpanned.
Flash looked up from his sitting position on the floor.
"You're kidding me... right?"
"Well... you know... all that training and everything... seems to have been wasted, if you ask me."
Not able to contain himself, Peter burst into a fit of laughter as Flash hurled two dust laden tomes in Tank's direction with the very last of his energy. Tank dodged out of the way with much more agility than most people, or dragons, would have given him credit for.
Sidestepping the puddle, Peter and Tank each offered Flash a hand. Gratefully accepting, Flash let himself be pulled up by his friends. Tank slapped the exhausted ex-Crimson Guard on the back in admiration.
"Sorry it took so long," quipped Tank, "but you know what he's like... can't be rushed and all that, even when someone's life's on the line."
Flash just shrugged his shoulders in acceptance. It wasn't the first time he'd been a bedbug's eyelash away from death and he was pretty sure, the way things were going, that it wouldn't be the last.
Making their way back through the maze of bookcases, stepping over the wreckage as they did so, Tank already had a pretty good idea as to who would be tidying up the shop, and as usual, he was pretty sure it wouldn't be the old shopkeeper. Striding through the gap in the counter, the three of them sauntered into the workshop, just as Gee Tee appeared from behind one of the huge filing cabinets.
"I'm so glad you're okay," he whispered huskily, patting Flash gently on the head. "I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you."
"It was a close run thing," gulped Flash, "but you just managed to reverse the mantra in time. Thanks."
"You're welcome youngster, but it is I who should be thanking you... what happened was a whole lot more than we'd bargained for... and yes, before you say it app... Tank, I've learned a valuable lesson today."
Tank nearly fainted in disbelief. In all the time he'd worked for the shopkeeper, hardly ever had he heard him apologise, let alone in the manner he just had.
'Who's stolen Gee Tee, and what have they done with him?' he thought, only half jokingly.
"I think it might just be about time for a drink, don't you?" announced Gee Tee.
"I'll put us all on some hot charcoal," declared Peter, looking to be helpful.
"That wasn't quite what I had in mind, child," purred the master mantra maker, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Understanding immediately, Peter wondered just how Tank might react to what was about to happen. Dragging his tail in the direction of the nearest filing cabinet, Gee Tee was about to try and reach up when in one leap, Tank jumped and grabbed something long and silver off the top. Slamming back down onto the floor, Tank held out the dusty, silver cylinder towards the old shopkeeper.
"Would this be what you're after, by any chance?"
Gritting his teeth, Peter held his breath. Flash stood, bemused by what was going on. Gee Tee turned his head back over his shoulder, giving Peter an icy glare, not realising that he hadn't revealed the old shopkeeper's secret.
"It might be," replied the master mantra maker.
"Hmmm," voiced Tank, clearly enjoying every second of the Emporium owner's discomfort. "I have to ask why you would want some..." Tank took a deep breath and blew off part of the thick layer of dust, "Peruvian Mantra Ink."
As a single thought circled throughout his head, Peter's lips creased into a tiny smile. Tank knew about the ink, and what it really was. The follow on thought was: how? Most certainly, he himself had never even so much as hinted at its existence.
"Might I ask how you know?"
"No... you might not," countered Tank, grinning from ear to ear. "But you should know two things. One... Peter didn't tell me, as I assume from your little glance at him, that he knew. And two... you're not nearly as sneaky or clever as you seem to think you are." And with that, in one fluid motion, Tank whipped the cap off the cylinder and let a small sip run gently down his throat. Peter, Gee Tee, and in particular Flash, who had no idea what was going on, all looked on in anticipation. Rolling his head and neck from side to side, seemingly swirling the liquid round and round inside him, Tank's face changed in an instant, but not how Peter pictured it would. A dreamy quality etched itself across the rugby playing dragon's bold, rugged features. Peter could almost see the liquid making its way up inside his friend's neck. Effortlessly, Tank opened his mouth just slightly and exhaled. A long, drawn out, blue flame, tinged around the edges with red and orange, snaked out across the room. Gee Tee, Peter and Flash all looked on in awe. Just when Peter thought it couldn't get any more amazing, the flame started to curl up in the air and form a shape. The line of flame cut off and then started again, in much the same way. All the time the room's occupants stared in disbelief. Four separate lines of flame hung in the air on the far side of the room, as Tank stood making tiny motions with his fingers. Ever so slowly, the flames twisted and turned and... changed. Changed into four separate letters, spelling out the word... T... A... N... K.
Surprisingly, Gee Tee was the first to react.
"Very good. I'm... impressed. Some of my tutoring must have rubbed off after all." Tank grinned and shook his head.
Peter patted his friend on the back gently to get his attention.
"How did you get it to do that?" he asked. "When I had a go, it was like a raging tempest that I couldn't control."
"The raging tempest responsible for that slag heap of a filing cabinet that I spent most of one morning cleaning up?"
"Uhhh... yeah, sorry about that," replied Peter sheepishly.
"You two must think I've got the brains of a politician," ventured Tank, offering the silver cylinder to Flash.
Still a little behind on the conversation, his experience had enabled him to catch up on a few things. Gripping the dusty cylinder, he put his nose directly above the top and sniffed.