The Beasts of Upton Puddle (44 page)

“Go, Flarp,” yelled Joe, punching the air.

The remaining trolls on his side of the gorge picked themselves up, renewed by the unexpected reinforcements, and headed back to the fight. Joe felt a strong urge to join in, but there was no more kappa juice and he wouldn't stand a chance without it.

Pandemonium continued as soldiers ran around with green cyclops heads, flapping their arms as the globbles sucked at their shoulders, driving the confused men in circles around each other. Some of the men had fainted, and their feet were dragged through the grass. Others had just about managed to escape and were hollering at each other to wipe the gunk from their skin and get to cover. Trolls waded in, soldiers ran for their guns, and Flarp was mowed down by a spray of bullets.

“No,” screamed Joe.

The green blob flopped into the dirt, trembling, full of tiny metal lumps.

Heinrich rushed over, braving the battlefield, and scooped up the eyeball. He sprinted back and handed the wounded hero to Mrs. Merrynether.

Joe wanted to look, wanted to do something to
help, but there was no time: the dragons, seeing that the battle had swayed away from their advantage, chose that moment to launch their own devastating attack.

A dozen dragons broke from the cloud and corkscrewed down to the fighting mobs, bellowing fire without caring if their own side was scorched. Trees ignited instantly, and the great mass of squonks rose to protect the woods, trying to dowse the flames, but more dragons answered with an inferno that sent the watery creatures tumbling away. The mucky water splashed against the grass and separated into individual squonks that gushed to the safety of the gorge, defeated.

Even the globbles could not hold their ground for long. One by one, the soldiers managed to rip the green blobs from their heads and rattle off gunfire to send them flying away.

Joe slumped against one of the few trees that had not been turned to charcoal.

Cornelius limped toward them, one of his magnificent wings bent awkwardly.

The land around them was strewn with the bodies of trolls, soldiers, and various other beasts Joe could not recognize. Not even the greenery had escaped. The trees looked like old witches' hands with twisted black fingers, smoking with the aftermath of a firestorm.

It was just as Mrs. Merrynether had said. The ground forces had done their job, and now the dragons would sweep down at their leisure, picking off the
last survivors like vultures swooping in to tear at an old carcass.

Even as Snappel led the wyverns in to take on the enemy, Joe could no longer muster the optimism he'd felt earlier. A few of their own dragons and perhaps a hundred wyverns taking on thousands? It was hopeless. They didn't even see Gnauserous among the myriad of winged lizards, let alone strike her down. Danariel knew she was there but could not pinpoint her.

They all looked at each other in silence, their future catching up with them. Mrs. Veronica Merrynether, Heinrich Krieger, Rose Ashworth, Kiyoshi, Danariel, Cornelius, and Joseph Copper—RIP. Flarp might already be dead; Joe couldn't tell, but it certainly looked that way. The helpless eyeball lay on a dirty mat like a punctured green basketball, staring upwards, not moving.

A cry came from the edge of the gorge.

“We surrender.” It was a familiar voice that caused them all to look round. Seven figures ran toward them, dodging blasts of fire. One of them had tied a grubby white handkerchief to a stick, waving it furiously.

“Is that who I think it is?” asked Mrs. Merrynether.

“Yes,” said Heinrich.

Joe was unable to read what Heinrich was feeling by that short answer, but his face had darkened.

“Argoyle Redwar,” said Joe.

And with the sweating fat man came Ms. Burrowdown, Scott and Kurt Duggan, and three other soldiers
struggling with bulging sacks containing who-knew-what.

“You've got a nerve,” said Mrs. Merrynether.

“My dear woman,” puffed Redwar as he stopped in front of them, hands on knees. “There really is little to be gained by pointing fingers. We are all facing the same threat now.”

“Struck up a bargain with the Conclave, did you?” she said. “All went terribly wrong, did it?”

“I suggest we find a way off this island—and quickly,” said Redwar.

“We're not going anywhere,” said Joe. “Not until we've found a way to stop the Conclave coming after the rest of the world.”

“Are you mental?” said Kurt Duggan, the words bursting from slimy lips, the green grime a sure sign he'd been violated by a globble only minutes before. “We're all going to die if we stay here.”

“Shut up, boy.” Scott Duggan slapped him.

“The boy's right,” said Redwar. “We have to leave.”

A line of fire whooshed behind them as if to underline Redwar's statement.

“Why have you come to us?” said Heinrich flatly. “Surely you have your own transport.”

“All gone. Blown up,” muttered Burrowdown.

Heinrich smiled mirthlessly.

“Unfortunately, that's true,” said Redwar. “We don't have a single ship we can use, so we need to use your transport, whatever and wherever that is.”

“We crashed,” said Mrs. Merrynether smugly. “You're stuck here just like we are. And you'll die just like we will.”

A horrified silence fell among Redwar's group.

Another burst of fire startled them as dragons landed nearby, breathing a river of flames above their heads to flush them out from their rocky cover.

Snappel and several more wyverns tried to come to the rescue, and Cornelius limped forward, but none of them were a match against five hulking dragons. One of the monsters tore chunks of rock away, exposing the terrified group, and the others formed a circle around them.

This was the end. Joe felt the world around him slip into a dreamy haze as fire rippled the air and curious odors filled his nose—an odd tangy smell like sewage and a sharp but subtle whiff of alcohol. This had to be how the final moments of delirium and hallucination warped the brain of someone who was about to die. Joe even thought he heard a faraway melody of drumbeats and pipes, something like an Irish jig. An angry voice with a harsh accent blasted like a demolition ball through the walls of his confusion and despair.

“May ya wings torn inta snot rags and arl da devils of hell blow deir filty noses on ya! Get 'em, lads!”

Like a storm of muddy rain, a waterfall of feces and other unpleasant items shot like hot meteors from above.

Joe covered his head but could just about see the dragons squirming as the hideous refuse stung their
hides and clung to their wings. Redwar fled the scene with Burrowdown and the others right behind him. Joe thought about trying to stop them but reconsidered, believing there to be little point. When the downpour finished, Joe looked up through steaming clouds of stink. He had never been so elated in his life.

A vast army flew over. Hundreds and hundreds of great ships just like the
Copper Celt
sailed to meet the dragons hovering over the island, guns blazing. Lowest to the ground, making for a landing, was one of the largest. The enormous boat plowed through a line of trees and churned up the dirt as it slowed to a halt a little way from them. Lilly stood at the helm, a fancy megaphone held to his tiny lips.

“Is dat you down there, Joe boy? Where's dis brewery the beasties are tryin' ta deproive us of?”

“Fell for it, didn't you, Lilly?” shouted Joe. “But if you and the others take care of these dragons for us, we'll build the biggest brewery you've ever seen in your life.”

“Ya mean ya got no booze? I get arl me mates tagedder, and dere's not one drop of amber nectar? Roight! Now oi'm
really
angry.”

Above their heads, a war of fantastic proportions raged. Dragons soared and wheeled while the sky boats fired dung, sewage, rotten food, compost, and all manner of smelly horror from cannons. Cluricauns parachuted to the island, chuckling and firing catapults at trolls as they drifted to the ground.

“Snappel,” said Danariel quickly. “The dragons have been caught off guard, and I know where Gnauserous is. Take me with you, and bring every wyvern you can find. We're going to rid the world of its greatest enemy.”

Joe watched as Snappel led a swarm of the feisty lizards with Danariel into the heart of the battle.

“All we can do now is wait and hope,” said Mrs. Merrynether.

“At least we
have
hope now,” said Joe.

“We have more than hope,” said Heinrich, smiling at Lilly, who had left his boat to approach them. “We have a whole army of cluricauns at our side.”

“We only came for da party” said Lilly, gritting his teeth. “Tort dere'd be some free booze if we saved the day.”

Kiyoshi stirred at the sound of Lilly's voice. “There are many more admirable pursuits than your never-ending endeavors to attain a state of crapulence through alcoholic poisoning.”

“Did monkey face just swear at me, den?”

“I merely stated that—”

“And oi'm merely gonna—”

“Stop it!” said Joe, holding back a laugh.

Kiyoshi closed his eyes, settling into a doze, the words “coprophagous midget” on his breath as he crossed his arms under his chin.

“There must be thousands of you,” said Joe. “Where did you all come from?”

“It doesn't take long for us ta build up an army
if we need ta, especially when beer's at stake. Oi just spread da word.”

“Look,” said Heinrich, pointing. “I think something is happening.”

Above them the great swarm of dragons had dispersed, exploded apart by fire. From the core of the hot cloud, Gnauserous burst forth, her great body weaving in a cyclone of smoke. She snatched, clawed, and buffeted a series of dragons that came at her from every direction. She swiped, smashed, and ripped at wyverns that attacked from above. One of the cluricauns' sky boats splintered into fragments as Gnauserous thrust her horned head into it. Through it all, Danariel shone like a tiny supernova, clinging to her former kin-tie's head, using whatever powers she had to throw the great dragon's mind into confusion.

The plan appeared to be working. Despite her ferocity, the queen could not sustain her defense. As Snappel closed in to attack, more dragons and wyverns swarmed in until a final, piercing death cry echoed across the island.

The Queen of Pyronesia had fallen.

“Be ready,” said Mrs. Merrynether. “We don't know how the rest of the dragons will react.”

A stream of cautious dragons approached their side of the gorge as the battle above petered out. The fleet of cluricaun boats dispersed, either landing somewhere on the island or choosing to head back to England.

Joe ached in places he hadn't even realized were there. Until this moment, a combination of adrenaline, kappa juice, and the consistent expectancy of death had kept his mind off how he felt physically, but now his body was screaming.

The approaching clutch of dragons, two of which he recognized from his audience with the Conclave, seemed unthreatening. They moved slowly, almost respectfully, between the charcoaled trees toward Joe's small group. It was still not a good time to relax, though. Joe had no idea what their intentions were.

Danariel drifted beside Joe. He tried to ignore the fact that her glow had diminished since Gnauserous's fall.

“Hold your ground, Joe. They want to talk.”

She told Joe the names of the seraphim that flew with each dragon, and they appeared before Joe in their various orbs of color.

The seraph belonging to the largest and oldest of the dragons approached. A turquoise tint surrounded the seraph as he hovered a few feet away from Joe's face. “Many have died,” he said.

A lump of remorse caught in Joe's throat, but he tried to keep his voice even. “I know.”

“Your kind has always brought destruction, but never before has it ended so terribly. Our queen fell today.”

“Your queen wanted to kill all of us. We only wanted to protect ourselves.”

“And Gnauserous only wanted to protect Pyronesia. She knew every inclination of the human heart dwells upon evil all the time. It was only a matter of time before that evil touched this island. Our queen was merciful once, but Argoyle Redwar's return forced her to act.

“Even as we speak, Redwar is making his escape from Pyronesia, taking with him a spoil of diamonds from our Nesting Caverns. All he wanted was wealth, and he didn't care about who he would kill to get it.”

“No,” said another seraph. “His intentions were far worse. He planned to kill every dragon on this island.
We had to remove explosive boxes placed at the Tree of Sanctuary.”

“So you see,” said the first seraph. “Mankind is evil and should be removed. Gnauserous was right.”

“No, she was wrong,” Joe said. “Not everyone is evil. Some people are good, and some are just . . . bad. I don't think anyone really knows why.”