~ Dragon skins and hunky Quinn- oh, anyway, thank you all for those
lovely reviews. Sorry for getting it wrong! ( OK, so it's Van Zan from
now on. ~
"Dragon! Drag- well, I think it's a: Dragon!"
Gerald's frantic cries brought them to the cliff edge and soon all of the company were staring down at the beast crawling below them.
"Is it a dragon?" Anja asked.
"No," Alex replied hesitantly, "If that was right, Quinn would be dead.but he's carrying the thing!"
A chorus of gasps and screams went up. The dragon was rising up towards them. But it was true. Through the semi-transparence of the animal, they could make out Quinn, working steadily up the chalky slope, the creature supported on his back. Everyone was far too astonished to shoot anything.
"Alright?" Quinn said when he reached the top. The team walked slowly about the dragon skin as he placed it gently down, gazing up in awe. Alex ran across to him.
"Jesus, Quinn! What is this thing?"
"It's Merciless," Quinn replied stoutly, "Well, her skin any'ow."
"'Course," his wife said with cool sarcasm, "Why didn't I realise that at once?"
They returned to the Watchtower when the sun was high up. The clouds had been brushed aside, leaving clear blue roadways streaking overhead. The horse did not even flinch when it saw the skin. Quinn told himself cheerfully that it was more intelligent than Anja. Ducking inside he started giving out instructions.
"Gerald, get me lots of wood from the stock at the back. Get Mike to help you out. Erm.ah, yeah, Alex! I want you to go up and get me some lighters from the lads' toolboxes. They have loads. Anja, fetch some matches from the kitchen. The rest of you can start setting that skin up facing out from the north wall. I'll be there in a moment."
He was daring to hope that Merciless would not come back until nightfall. He had trusted Van Zan before on that. Van Zan had never been wrong.
"Hope you're not going to let me down this time, old man," he prayed to wherever the man was now. He hoped he wasn't having too nice a time.
Soon everyone was standing outside. Anja sat defiantly to one side and ate her rations from the store.
"I can't see why we couldn't run," she said to the man beside her. He shook his head at her in disbelief.
"Just dump that wood round it's neck, Gerald. There's a good lad," said Quinn, ruffling the boy's hair. The dragon skin was all set about with piles of timber. The supports left over from the scaffolding had been broken up too. Now it was just the skin rustling in the evening breeze. A silence had fallen like snow. Quinn shook himself but then stopped. Had he heard something? Voices began starting up again and he had to yell at them to pipe down. There it was again! He couldn't make it out. Wait. Wait. Then there! Yes, he'd heard it! A long distant screech.
"Look!" shouted Anja from the wall. She leaped to her feet, arm outstretched. They all turned to where she pointed and saw, inked out on the horizon, Merciless's head rearing up. A black head rising forth and back, forth and back. A jet of flame was vomited into the sky, lighting the clouds like candles. And it looked at them.
"Light it!" Quinn bellowed, "Light the damn piles!"
One by one, the woodpiles went up in fire. Smoke coiled up from them with the sweet scent of pines. All around it the fire's blazed and the skin wriggled and jolted, even trying to lift off the ground as heat blazed. Quinn ducked inside the skin.
"Quinn, what are you doing?" Alex cried.
"Setting up the last pile," he answered coldly.
Inside the skin, there was an eerie half-light and sound. Everything was deadened by the scales. But even through the hazy web he could make out the dragon rising up into the clouds. He stood inside holding the torch and matchbox. He was shaking hard. He dropped the box and scattered its contents on the damp floor.
"Oh God!" he cursed and knelt down. One by one he picked up the matches and started striking them. None would light.
"Come on, Quinn, let's go!" Anja was shouting in. The rest had run into the watchtower.
"I'm coming," he called. He swore loudly as another match snapped in his fingers.
"Come on, get out of there!"
"What's the matter with you, you stupid woman?" Quinn yelled furiously. A roar went up from somewhere nearby.
"Got it!" he cried as a flame shook in his hand. He set it to the torch then buried the end into the earth. The whole skin was alive now, expanding and shivering with the wavering heat.
Quinn scuttled out to stand beside Anja.
"I'm here, now let's go," he said firmly.
"Oh God rest my soul," Anja replied. Her gaze was over Quinn's shoulder. He turned.
"Dragon! Drag- well, I think it's a: Dragon!"
Gerald's frantic cries brought them to the cliff edge and soon all of the company were staring down at the beast crawling below them.
"Is it a dragon?" Anja asked.
"No," Alex replied hesitantly, "If that was right, Quinn would be dead.but he's carrying the thing!"
A chorus of gasps and screams went up. The dragon was rising up towards them. But it was true. Through the semi-transparence of the animal, they could make out Quinn, working steadily up the chalky slope, the creature supported on his back. Everyone was far too astonished to shoot anything.
"Alright?" Quinn said when he reached the top. The team walked slowly about the dragon skin as he placed it gently down, gazing up in awe. Alex ran across to him.
"Jesus, Quinn! What is this thing?"
"It's Merciless," Quinn replied stoutly, "Well, her skin any'ow."
"'Course," his wife said with cool sarcasm, "Why didn't I realise that at once?"
They returned to the Watchtower when the sun was high up. The clouds had been brushed aside, leaving clear blue roadways streaking overhead. The horse did not even flinch when it saw the skin. Quinn told himself cheerfully that it was more intelligent than Anja. Ducking inside he started giving out instructions.
"Gerald, get me lots of wood from the stock at the back. Get Mike to help you out. Erm.ah, yeah, Alex! I want you to go up and get me some lighters from the lads' toolboxes. They have loads. Anja, fetch some matches from the kitchen. The rest of you can start setting that skin up facing out from the north wall. I'll be there in a moment."
He was daring to hope that Merciless would not come back until nightfall. He had trusted Van Zan before on that. Van Zan had never been wrong.
"Hope you're not going to let me down this time, old man," he prayed to wherever the man was now. He hoped he wasn't having too nice a time.
Soon everyone was standing outside. Anja sat defiantly to one side and ate her rations from the store.
"I can't see why we couldn't run," she said to the man beside her. He shook his head at her in disbelief.
"Just dump that wood round it's neck, Gerald. There's a good lad," said Quinn, ruffling the boy's hair. The dragon skin was all set about with piles of timber. The supports left over from the scaffolding had been broken up too. Now it was just the skin rustling in the evening breeze. A silence had fallen like snow. Quinn shook himself but then stopped. Had he heard something? Voices began starting up again and he had to yell at them to pipe down. There it was again! He couldn't make it out. Wait. Wait. Then there! Yes, he'd heard it! A long distant screech.
"Look!" shouted Anja from the wall. She leaped to her feet, arm outstretched. They all turned to where she pointed and saw, inked out on the horizon, Merciless's head rearing up. A black head rising forth and back, forth and back. A jet of flame was vomited into the sky, lighting the clouds like candles. And it looked at them.
"Light it!" Quinn bellowed, "Light the damn piles!"
One by one, the woodpiles went up in fire. Smoke coiled up from them with the sweet scent of pines. All around it the fire's blazed and the skin wriggled and jolted, even trying to lift off the ground as heat blazed. Quinn ducked inside the skin.
"Quinn, what are you doing?" Alex cried.
"Setting up the last pile," he answered coldly.
Inside the skin, there was an eerie half-light and sound. Everything was deadened by the scales. But even through the hazy web he could make out the dragon rising up into the clouds. He stood inside holding the torch and matchbox. He was shaking hard. He dropped the box and scattered its contents on the damp floor.
"Oh God!" he cursed and knelt down. One by one he picked up the matches and started striking them. None would light.
"Come on, Quinn, let's go!" Anja was shouting in. The rest had run into the watchtower.
"I'm coming," he called. He swore loudly as another match snapped in his fingers.
"Come on, get out of there!"
"What's the matter with you, you stupid woman?" Quinn yelled furiously. A roar went up from somewhere nearby.
"Got it!" he cried as a flame shook in his hand. He set it to the torch then buried the end into the earth. The whole skin was alive now, expanding and shivering with the wavering heat.
Quinn scuttled out to stand beside Anja.
"I'm here, now let's go," he said firmly.
"Oh God rest my soul," Anja replied. Her gaze was over Quinn's shoulder. He turned.