Well, finally here's chapter four. Of course I want you to review! Any suggestions are most welcome.

Chapter 4: Growing Complications

Artha hurriedly jogged through the many twisting corridors of Word's citadel. He was free! Now he had to stop Moordryd. Artha hadn't been in Word's citadel too often, but he knew at least one way out. He was glad he still remembered it. It would look strange to Cain if Moordryd Paynn didn't know the way out of his father's citadel.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Cain said as he kept up with his friend.

"Because. I have to do something."

"But you've been saying that for the past few minutes. What do you have to do?" Cain followed Moordryd as he finally pushed through the heavy door barring the exit. The usual stale air greeted him as he stopped. Cain nearly ran into him. Barely managing to keep his balance, he then glared at Moordryd. "What does…"

"Cain!" Artha interrupted. "Umm…go get Decepshun for me, would you?" He would need a dragon to get to Moordryd, and he had no idea where Moordryd had left her. Cain stared at him.

"She's over there with Coershun. Right where you left her." Cain emphasized the last sentence.

Artha looked to where Cain was pointing. Standing right next to the citadel was a waiting Decepshun and Coershun. "Right then!" Artha said and put his hands on his hips. "I should get going then." He probably should have looked around first. He started to head to Moordryd's dragon, but was forced to stop as Cain firmly planted himself in his way.

"What happened back there?" Cain steeled himself for any type of tirade Moordryd would give. The Dragon Eye leader was unpredictable and not one for small talk.

"Well…" Artha started. Telling half the truth would be the best way to lie. "Uh…you see, my father…Word Paynn. You know, he…ah…made this mind transfer thing…device." Artha searched Cain's face for a sign of understanding. Cain looked skeptical, but slowly nodded.

"A mind transfer device?"

"Yes." Artha confirmed.

"Like the thing on your head?" Cain questioned. Artha looked at him in confusion until Cain pointed with his finger. Artha slowly lifted his hand and was surprised when he felt the cold gear. He took it off, and turned it over in his hands.

"Uh, yeah. This is it? This is it." He offered the grey head piece to Cain. Cain took it and twirled it around.

"This switches people's minds?"

"Apparently." Artha muttered.

"Why are you wearing it?"

"Well…uh, you see, Word…ah, my father, wanted to switch my mind with Artha Penn's."

"Why? You need a new brain?" Cain joked.

"Uh…okay. No. Well, yes, I kinda do, but this doesn't switch brains, it switches minds." Artha watched for Cain to show understanding.

"Okay." He grunted.

Artha continued. "He tied me up, so when he switched our minds Penn wouldn't go off to warn his friends."

"About what?"

"Well, Moor…er, I, was supposed to find out who the Dragon Booster was from them."

"Oh, I get it. He didn't want Penn to stop them from telling you." Cain said, tossing the gear from hand to hand.

"Uh…be careful with that…" Artha said. He didn't want the gear to break if Cain dropped it. He needed it to return to normal. Cain looked at him, rather amazed. Moordryd hadn't yelled at him or barked the order. It almost came out as a question. "Yes. Precisely," Artha continued, feeling uncomfortable with Cain's confused and searching stare, "but it didn't work, and my father went to see if he could find out what was wrong with it. But he forgot to let me down. So, when he fixes it, I'll come back and go into Penn's body to find the Dragon Booster." Artha hoped that explanation would suffice.

Cain looked at him suspiciously, and Artha held his breath. "Well that makes sense." He finally said and Artha quickly agreed with him. "How can he fix it if you have it?"

"It's not the gear, it's the computer…"

"Oh. Mind transfer? Drac. Can he switch anyone's minds?"

"Uh, I guess so. But, it's an extremely long process…to…to switch minds, so he wouldn't be able to do it for anyone else. No one else." Cain looked crestfallen. Artha took advantage of this pause and headed to the dragons. He had wasted enough time. He jogged up to Decepshun. Cain stopped looking at the gear in his hands and stared after Moordyd. He was sure acting odd this afternoon. Cain couldn't put his finger on it, but Moordryd just seemed too…too nice.

Artha breathed a sigh of relief as he left Cain standing back there. He really was wasting too much time. "Hey, wait!" He heard Cain call after him. Then he felt Cain's rough hands grasp his arm. "Hold up." Artha reluctantly slowed.

"Cain, I really have to go…"

"How do I know the mind transfer hasn't occurred already? How do I know you're not Artha Penn?"

Artha turned to Cain, exasperated. "Cain, if I were that stable brat, would I have told you about the mind transfer device? Would I have known the way out of my father's citadel?" Cain recoiled at Moordryd's loud voice.

"Uh…," he stammered as he thought it over, "I guess not…"

"Well, there you go." Artha yanked his arm out of Cain's grip and headed to Decepshun once more. He smiled inwardly. He could act like Moordryd if he wanted. Cain followed, holding the gear deftly. As they neared the dragons, Coershun purred when he noticed Cain returning. Decepshun tossed her head, eager to be off. She was tired of waiting. But as Moordryd came closer, she suddenly backed up and hissed.

Artha stopped suddenly, startled. Cain bumped into him and almost dropped the gear. They both looked at Decepshun questioningly.

Coershun glanced at his partner. Decepshun noticed his glance, and stopped hissing. She couldn't tell him what was wrong, she herself had no idea. She just knew something was amiss.

Artha, however, simply said, "Uh, well I've got to get going." Then he slowly approached Decepshun once more. She stood her ground, and allowed him to mount. Something was wrong here. If she had growled at Moordryd, he wouldn't have ignored it. He would have set her straight. Cain and Coershun knew this too, and they both looked on in near bewilderment.

Artha settled himself in the saddle, and noticed their stares. "Cain!" He barked.

Cain started. "What?"

"Uh, go do your, uh, your duties. NOW!" He shouted and glared at him. Cain, easily cowed, jumped into Coershun's saddles.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" He asked warily. Apparently, Moordryd was having violent mood swings, and Cain was not about to aggravate him.

Artha continued glaring at Cain, his mind furiously working to think of something. He had to leave now. "Uh, do, er, clean out the dragon's stables!" He said menacingly.

Cain looked confused. "But I don't clean out the stables. That's the…."

"I don't care if you don't clean stables, you do now!"

"All of them?"

"Yes. All of them."

"Seriously? I can't clean hundreds of stables. I…I can't even clean one." Cain whimpered.

Artha was slightly taken aback. Hundreds? That was a lot of black dragons. Then again, the Dragon Eye crew was one of the biggest crews there were. "Then only clean one."

"But why can't I get one of the new members to clean it?"

"Because I want you too." Artha smirked. He wondered if Cain would actually do it. Cain started to protest again, but fell silent as Artha glared at him. "But I've got to go. And Cain," he said and waited until he had Cain's full attention again, "I want to see a spotless stable when I come back." Cain nodded grimly. Artha inwardly laughed. He was sure it would be rather embarrassing for the second in command to do a new recruit's task. Mucking out stables, no less. He forced the handles forward, and Decepshun lumbered off.

"Wait…" Cain called. Artha turned around, halting Decepshun, who spared him a heated glare. She was angry at herself. Something was wrong with her rider, and she couldn't figure it out. She growled softly in annoyance.

"What? Make it quick." Artha snapped atop the puzzled dragon.

"I came here to tell you something. Vizz…he…" Cain paused. Artha waited.

"Well, what did…Vizz do?" Whoever Vizz was.

"Vizz broke rule 24 again."

"…oh?" Artha said, startled. Dragon Eyes had rules?

Cain grinned. "What's his punishment?"

"Ah, make him clean a stable as well."

"What? But he broke the rule!"

"As I heard. Have him clean the stable next to yours." Cain stared at the leader of the Dragon Eyes.

"Fine. If you wish," he said in a sarcastic tone. At least he wouldn't be cleaning stables alone. Decepshun leapt into a run at her rider's bidding. As she turned and disappeared out of sight, Cain activated his VIDD-screen. Vizz came up on the other end.

"Well…what…" Vizz stammered nervously and wet his lips. "What did Moordryd say?"

"It seems you got off rather lucky, Fizzy Vizzy." Cain said. He smiled mischievously as Vizz's eye twitched at the nickname. "Moordryd said you had to clean two stables."

"Wha…? Clean two stables? But I blew up the equipment building…"

"Do you want me to ask Moordryd to reconsider your punishment?"

"No…I'll clean the stables." Vizz said, despondent yet pleased.

"Good. I'll be coming to watch. And they better be spotless." Vizz nodded an agreement and Cain terminated the connection. Then he realized he still held the gear. The strange head piece was still in his possession. Moordryd would come and get it when he wanted it. Cain held the gear protectively and Coershun bounded away to Down City.

"I am never cleaning a stable again." Moordryd stated sourly as he rode atop Beau.

"You won't. That is, until Connor needs some help in the stables again." Kitt smirked at Artha as she rode beside on Wyldfyr. They, including Lance and Parm, had finally set out for the track to practice. Moordryd had come along without complaint. He expected to find the Dragon Booster's identity, then hightail it to his father's citadel quickly. But in the meantime, Moordryd sneered at Kitt, who smiled coyly. Lance and Parm were riding up ahead, occasionally looking back at the two.

Moordryd sulked. Everyone else, after the enjoyment of the dialogue died out, looked at each other. Artha had been acting pretty strange this afternoon. At first, they dismissed it as a bad mood, but after he tripped over a shovel he threw on the ground in frustration at cleaning the stable and then fell into the dragon poop, he spat out a string of curses unsuitable for repeating. This astonished everyone, including poor Lance who happened to be standing right next to him. He was very lucky Connor had not been there and had dismissed any criticism Kitt and Parm threw at him.

As Artha's friends worried about him, Moordryd prepared to finally ask the right questions directed towards the Dragon Booster's identity. But first….

He glanced over at Kitt. When she turned towards him he winked slyly. She looked at him questioningly. Then Moordryd made Artha flutter his eyelashes at her and look at her in a desirable way. This made Kitt even more perplexed. Then he made a kissing face at her and urged Beau to leap ahead and fall beside Lance. As Kitt was left flummoxed, Moordryd smiled. While he was in Penn's body, he might as well have some fun ruining his life.

He made a point of not looking back at Kitt. "So, Lance." He looked down at Artha's younger brother.

"Yeah?" Lance replied, keeping his eyes on the street ahead.

"Now the Dragon Booster…." Moordryd started.

"Oh, let's not start that again!" Parm said and threw his hands up in exasperation.

"What?" Moordryd said, surprised.

"Oh, please. You know perfectly well what!"

"I forget…." Moordryd said slowly, not quite what sure to say. Parm did not look amused.

"Really. I thought you had grown up a bit and stopped ranting on how great the 'Dragon Booster' was." Parm said. Moordryd inwardly groaned. He was so close. "Oh, wasn't the Dragon Booster simply drac last night? Or, the Drag…."

"Give it a rest, Parm. He hasn't done it in a while." Kitt, now over her shock, said as Wyldfyr pulled up beside Cyrano.

"It'd be nice if he wouldn't start it again." Parm huffed.

"I never said I would!" Moordryd protested.

"Listen. Let's just get to the track, and forget about 'Dragon Booster' till Moordryd starts something again." Kitt said, trying to instill peace amongst the Penn Racing Crew. Moordryd frowned.

"Or unless the Shadow Booster appears!" Lance quipped in a spooky voice. He glanced around at the shadows.

"Pretty tough competition for the Dragon Booster, isn't he?" Moordryd said, wanting to keep the conversation on the Dragon Booster.

Parm sighed, exasperated once again. "I don't know, Artha. Is he?" Moordryd stared back at Parm, confused.

"Don't look now. Let's just hope he doesn't give us any trouble." Kitt sighed. They all turned to look. Down below, on a drag way a level down, was Moordryd Paynn.

"Oh, great." Parm huffed. Moordryd merely stared at his body in amazement. How did he get loose? If Penn came now, Moordryd would lose what chance he had of uncovering the Dragon Booster. Not to mention his father would be more than furious at him.

"Uh, race you to the track." He said quickly. He could ask questions later. Now they had to lose Artha, or rather, lose his body.

"Race?" Parm inquired. "Why? Do you want Dragon City Security to ticket us?"

"No, but I don't feel like running into Moordryd Paynn right now either." Moordryd shot back.

"He's got a point. We won't go too fast, for your sake." Kitt smirked.

"What? I can keep up." Parm insisted while Lance chuckled.

"Then let's see if you can beat me!" He said energetically and Fracshun raced off down the street.

"Lance! Turn left!" Kitt called after him. Lance turned, retraced his steps and this time he raced down the correct street.

"Do you need a head start as well?" Moordryd said to Parm teasingly.

"I most certainly…do." As Parm prepared to race off, he glanced to where Moordryd had been. "At least we won't run into that big hydrag again." Cyrano lurched into a gallop after Lance, leaving the other two riders. Kitt glanced over at Artha.

"Uh, Artha…." She started, then paused and looked down. She tried to think of something to say. His actions before startled her, and she wasn't quite sure what she thought of them yet. She never expected Artha to be that forward. When she looked back up, she was irritated to see that Artha wasn't even paying attention. "…Artha…" She said again, uncertainly. He still didn't acknowledge her. "Hey, hero boy!"

Moordryd jumped at the loud voice and turned to see an angry Kitt. "What?"

"Oh, never mind." She grunted sourly, and urged Wyldfyr to follow Cyrano. "Nothing." She repeated as she raced away.

Moordryd grinned. He wondered what Artha would do if Kitt confronted him again. He chuckled softly at the thought. He was interrupted when Beau shook his head. "Hey!" Beau merely snorted at him.

To him, Artha was acting very, very strange. Beau had been willing to dismiss it, but now he was very suspicious. Something was wrong, and he was going to find out what. Artha was even riding differently. He was riding more smoothly, like he had been riding dragons long before Beau. Artha pushed forward on the handles repeatedly. "Come on." Beau inevitably obliged, and leapt into a run.

As they raced off after Kitt, Moordryd urged Beau to go faster. He would beat them all. Big hydrag? He'd show that egg-head who the big hydrag was. He grinned.

Decepshun had swiftly maneuvered herself to Mid City, constantly bidden by her rider to go ever faster. Moordryd hadn't even told her why he was in such a hurry. Usually, he told her wherever they were going and let her pick some of the streets herself. But today, his mouth remained shut and he handled her with a firm grip on the controls. She knew something was wrong about him, but she couldn't figure out what. He moved differently, and, after his encounter with Cain, apparently talked differently too. He was much more calm and hadn't even barked a harsh word he meant.

Artha kept his eyes on the streets ahead and raced through them heedlessly. He was no longer Artha Penn, he was Moordryd Paynn now, and Moordryd did not slow down for others. Besides, if he got in trouble with the law, it would be Moordryd himself who would end up paying the long term effects of it.

He dashed down streets, feeling every minute, every second that passed by. He turned Decepshun down a street leading to Penn Stables. He had to stop Paynn.

As the Stables reared into view, he pulled back on the handles sharply, skidding to a halt. Lance, Parm, Kitt and him had planned to go practice racing. They wouldn't be at the stables. Decepshun snorted, angry that she had no idea what was going on.

Artha ignored her and chose another street, one which Decepshun bounded down sourly. He didn't have time to care whether Moordryd's dragon was annoyed with him.

After a few more minutes, Artha became frantic. What if Moordryd had already found out and was heading back to the citadel? He was going in the wrong direction. He slowed down, and tried to steady his thoughts. Decepshun snorted, not at him, but at the figures on a dragway a level up. He glanced half-heartedly, and was soon glad he bothered to look.

Kitt! Parm! And where was Lance going? He wanted to shout out to them, then stopped. What would he say? They'd only try to lose him, Moordryd Paynn, if he tried to say anything. 'Artha Penn' would only deny whatever claims he said about mind tranfers. At least Moordryd didn't know who he really was yet, otherwise he'd be heading back to his father.

Artha saw Parm glance at him in disgust and hurry away with Cyrano, following Fracshun. Artha pushed forward on the handles and quickly tried to find a way to catch up, where he could better tell the truth.

Word reentered his citadel, his fears now confirmed. His face betrayed feelings of irritation and contemplation. Since that fool from the past was back…. Wrapped in his thoughts, he sat down in his huge chair without looking to where he should have had his son's body stuck to the wall.

Deth had returned, he knew that much. He also knew Deth had long ago vowed revenge on the Dragon Booster. First Armaggeddon, now Deth. At least it wasn't possible for any other past mag warriors to suddenly appear. Deth interfered with his plans. He would attack the Dragon Booster first chance he got, which would make it harder for him to plan a surprise attack on the hero. Deth may be able to defeat the Dragon Booster, but Word couldn't be sure. He had been beaten in the original Dragon-Human easily when the Dragon Booster learned to release the dragon. Deth wasn't even a very powerful mag warrior if compared to Armaggeddon. He knew about as much as Word himself did. Besides, Word wanted to defeat the Dragon Booster himself. He couldn't allow Deth to have that satisfaction.

He drummed his claws on the table, then turned to Artha Penn, intending to speak to him. He almost gasped in surprise. The wall was empty and the green trapping gear was huddled on the floor. He clenched his fists tightly. How did he free himself? What outside help did he receive?

He swiveled his chair with a cry of frustration and turned on a monitor. He set it to one of the cameras he had mounted in the high corners of his citadel. The camera was locked onto Artha Penn's position, which now happened to be a heap of green trapping gear. Word rewound the tape until he saw Moordryd's body walk into the citadel backwards. Cain walked in backwards with him. Word stroked his chin. So that was how he escaped. Tricking Moordryd's crony, not all that hard, into setting him free.

"Well done, Artha Penn. But you now present a problem." Word turned to two other screens. "And if I see a problem, I fix it." Word spoke to the screens in a threatening voice. Soon, the two screens showed the images from the two cameras implanted on the wraith dragons. They had finally arrived at Penn Stables. Unfortunately, Artha Penn's body was no where to be seen. Word sighed irritably.

Soon, he left his citadel, walking urgently. He had many things to do. But before leaving, he had instructed the wraiths to proceed with a new mission. One continued to find his son in Penn's body, whom Word would warn of the new threat, while the other was sent to keep an eye on Deth….

The vacant wasteland lay stretched before him. A dust trail billowed softly as a few young Hydrags fled the huge dome of mag energy. Their defiance and courage had quickly withered after the sudden demise of their comrade. Deth let the dome dissipate and breathed in the air of a time he did not belong to. Slowly he advanced to a drag way that would eventually lead into the occupied parts of Dragon City. A drag way that would also lead him to the Dragon Booster. He could sense him, the gold draconium he held, miles above.

Syrrox instantly moved forward at Deth's touch, and passed over the body of the deceased Hydrag, not bothering to watch his footfalls. Deth reveled in the wet sound of flesh and bone as Syrrox's hind foot crushed the animal into the ground. How could the Dragon Booster stand against him and his colossal dragon? He had learned much from his last meeting with the Dragon Booster.

The Dragon Booster had deserved death for what he had done to Deth. He deserved punishment, but was instead praised for defeating him when he came to induce justice. The Dragon Booster had escaped from the fate he deserved. Even though he was now long dead, Deth intended to obtain his revenge on the new Dragon Booster. A weaker Dragon Booster.

He had finally sensed him, and with great anticipation, had broken free of his cocoon. After he had destroyed the Dragon Booster, he would once again join the opposition. But this time, instead of being Armaggeddon's second in command, he would rule.

He was aware of Armaggeddon's presence. So he had finally escaped from the Shadow Track. Weakened by the nightmares he lived for the past two thousand years, he would be less trouble than he once was. Syrrox let out a long, thundering roar which shook the rubble built around them. Who could stop Deth?