Chapter 138 - 134: Demos in Peril!

Chapter 138: Chapter 134: Demos in Peril!

DEMOS!

His claws somehow become fasteners in Burni’s wing, allowing him to hang on despite her barrel rolling to shake him off. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, the wackiest loop-de-loop ever executed. Demos clings, a barnacle crossed with Velcro.

The announcer warbles, "It’s a little known fact that a dragon’s wing scales are more of a lattice than impenetrable armor. They have to be, in order for the dragon to fly without too much drag. So, Demos’ claws are just the right size to fit inside the lattice, in one of nature’s oddities. It’s unfortunately not one that favors Burni. She can’t seem to shake Demos."

"STAY ON!" Vedette is yelling from the platform. "DEMOS! Whatever you do, do NOT let go."

"LET GO! YOU TELL HIM TO LET GO!"

Crimson-faced, Athalie Gratin jabs her finger at Vedette, who refuses to back down. Einswine snorts, positioning his imposing bulk between them. Phanias the Jaguar and his tamer look like they would rather be anywhere else.

Vedette scoffs at Nathalie. "What he’s doing is allowed. It’s not my fault or my bear’s fault that you don’t know your dragon’s anatomy. She’s fully grown!"

"You INSOLENT CHILD," Athalie snarls.

Indignant, Minette stands up, and projects her voice, loud enough to make Athalie recoil.

"Do NOT speak to my daughter like that!"

Minette’s shout reverberates throughout the arena, silencing the crowd.

Elandior’s look could liquefy concrete. "Or my teammate. An ally of my house. A member of my family. Maybe you need an education in match etiquette."

Athalie fulminates, her mouth opening and closing and no sound coming out. To be lectured by a mature elf, and nobility at that, in front of the entire audience and the contestants, is social and beast taming career suicide.

Meanwhile, Demos clings to a dragon’s wing, his new personal mission. Stay on long enough to do...what? Tire Burni out? Force her to land?

[DEMOS! What is your endgame here?]

He grunts. [Force this dragon to submit.]

[As long as it isn’t with both of you splattered on the arena floor!]

He growls through the mind-link. [Give me some credit! Did you hear how that woman spoke to Vedette? This is personal.]

[As good a reason as any. Make that dragon say uncle!]

Demos is confused. [I do not know her uncle. Why would she say "uncle" to me?]

Literal medieval beast thinking, without an awareness of current slang. This world is nothing if not immersive in its sensibility.

[Never mind. Expression I heard somewhere. It means: Make that dragon surrender.]

[OH. Well, I can do that.]

Demos walks on the wing, and uses his Shooting Stars to superheat the strong but surprisingly vulnerable appendage

Burni screams bloody murder, erratic flame jets flying in a futile attempt to hit Demos, but he stays in her blind spot every time.

The announcer blares, "The mighty Burni is burning. A dragon’s wing is more fragile than people think if the conditions are right."

Athalie Gratin loses her equanimity, her face fiery red, and she stalks toward Vedette. Before Einswine and Elandior can react, Athalie grips Vedette’s bodice. "Tell your beast to stop."

I roar loud enough for the entire arena to hear. Lightning screeches with righteous fury. Gussie squawks, and even Dag yells, "BAD!"

The announcer yells, "FOUL! Penalty to Athalie Gratin and the House of Gratin. They forfeit this match. Their house and the House of Artemidoros are OUT."

Minette shouts, "And our houses are enemies now!"

Lobo communicates with me and Lightning privately. [I think this was somebody throwing the match. I don’t know for sure, but the backlash against System is growing.]

Lightning is decisive. [Good.]

Athalie Gratin’s hands hook into Vedette’s bodice. A sad dumpy fashion plate, a sore loser. Despite his gangly appearance, her teammate pries her off Vedette, hissing, "Our houses are done too. You cost me dearly."

With composure and dignity, Vedette brushes herself off and communicates with Demos, who ceases his spell. Humiliated, Burni drifts down to the platform and kneels for Demos to alight. Her wing makes a workable slide, and Demos pads over to Vedette, sniffing her. Einswine and Elandior fuss too.

Soldiers escort Athalie Gratin and her partner from the House of Artemidoros out of the arena, to be drummed out of the tournament and sent packing in disgrace. Phanias tha Jaguar gets to his feet and licks Demos and Einswine on the way back.

Burni bathes Demos in smoke and stares at him, lowering her mighty head down to his level. [My tamer has disgraced me. I am considering breaking the bond.]

Demos snorts and bumps her with his nose. [I’m not surprised.]

Burni shuffles out with dignity, leaving Demos and Einswine to bask in their triumph.

The announcer yells, "House Riddlehoeven and House Lammermoor are the winners! Reset for the next match. It will be Blaze and Lobo of House Riddlehoeven versus Atum and Philippus of House Nitakret!"

I rush over to Lightning and the cubs, where Maartenwitz looks like someone rolled hm in tiger fut from the cubs crawling all over him. He sniffs. "The House of Gratin. Always classless. Pompous, puffed-up. Anyone can have overpowered beasts. Working with them in an honorable way is the real measure of a champion. The House of Gratin has no honor."

With his grumpy glower and his words about honor, he reminds me of Worf from Star Trek. I bump his hand with my nose.

Leonie and Finn climb all over me. [Papa! Papa!]

Lightning nuzzles me. [You need to eat.]

The seductive aroma of raw meat awakens my senses, and the smell of crunchy exotic fruits makes me melt. The dishes of meat and fruits are emptied in no time flat.

Kaline wanders up and tugs on my fur. "It’s just about time, Blaze. You can celebrate with your family later. Lightning, I promise he will stay safe."

Lightning growls softly. She trusts Kaline. And she trusts Lobo, who is getting kissed and wrestled by Leonie and Finn. They call him "Uncle Lobo".

With a lump the size of a beefsteak tomato in my throat, I head down to the arena floor with Lobo, our tails waving behind us in defiance. We arrive on the arena floor and pad over to the platform that has reset and hovers a few inches off the ground. Kaline steps on it, and so does Minette. A fearsome mother and daughter team.

The platform is cool and hard beneath my paws. Lobo steps as if every inch of it might conceal a hidden booby trap. Or perhaps he is just finding the best spot. The most optimal one. Not too close to the middle, especially since we need to stay at opposite ends before the match begins.

Atum the Ruffed Lion and Philippus the Iridescent Porcupine face us from the other end. Satemi Nitakret, Atum’s tamer, and Kesi Nitakret, Philippus’ tamer, our allies in the real world, look like a strong but honorable air. Satemi wears robes of white linen, and so does Kesi. They are mother and son. Satemi looks about Kaline’s age, faintly olive-skinned, while his mother Kesi is a statuesque elegant woman around Minette’s age.

"We will not make the mistake of House Gratin," Kesi says in her musical voice.

"We would be embarrassed," Satemi adds.

Minette smiles. "Then may the best beasts and house win. Fairly."

Philippus bows. [We will be honorable.]

Atum growls. [But prepare to lose.]

Lobo woofs. [In your dreams.]

It’s all posturing. These allies have one purpose: boost our score and our stats and help us advance in the tournament. Get an early win and gain strength.

I growl too. [May the best beasts win. Meaning us.]

A long pause while we wait for the match to start.

WHOOOSH.

The platform pushes up under my feet, and a glow spreads across the surface, a river of light. Was it always that way during the other matches, or did I not notice? Then, it is gone. Maybe that was the magic activating.

Lobo coaches me. [Philippus’ quills can do damage. I would superheat them or use your Super Jump. He will probably roll up from behind while Atum tries to distract us.]

I offer a "mrrp" of acknowledgment. [I’ll track the porcupine.]

System chooses that moment to rain on our tournament parade.

[You should prepare to be mine right now. There is no way you can defeat these two.]

Lobo woofs. [Can we count on you to be a gracious winner?]

I pile on. [Nobody likes a sore winner.]

System laughs. Cold, mechanical, grating. Like gears scraping together, with a techno-music beat. [Oh, let me tell you how I will be. I will OWN your cubs and your precious Amber. I will have them sold and torn away from you and taken to the worst house where they will be beaten and abused and starved. I will arrange for the House of Riddlehoeven to burn to the ground wit everyone in it except you, and for you two to be sold to a living nightmare. You will spend your lives in misery. Unless you want to concede now?]

The announcer’s voice is a welcome boost. "3...2...1...BEGIN!"

I growl, and so does Lobo. [It’s on!]