Alex Bell - Fighting with fire

After a good meal, a good bath and a good night’s sleep on board his ship, Lex felt one hundred times better. His headache had gone entirely by the next morning and Heetha’s horrible sun had been replaced with Saydi’s. As Goddess of Beauty, her sun always brought the loveliest? not to mention the most comfortable? weather on the Globe.

Lex had the sword; he had triumphed against the odds and he had even managed to rescue his companion from certain death, as well. Now, finally, the third and final round was to start today and already Lex felt that he couldn’t wait. He and Jesse were back on speaking terms? mostly because Lex found he couldn’t overly resent Jesse for taking the sword, when it was exactly what Lex would have done himself. He respected Jesse more for being a man who was entirely, unashamedly, out for himself, than he would have done if he’d been some charitable, do-gooder sap. Besides, just because he didn’t trust Jesse, didn’t mean that he didn’t like him.

‘You’re not entirely useless,’ Lex said generously. ‘Which is a step up from my last companion, at least.’

Of course, spending half the night gloating over the Sword of Life had improved Lex’s mood immeasurably. Just as the legend went, the red blade was hot to the touch whilst the blue blade was icy cold. The red blade took life; the blue blade gave it back. Lex couldn’t help thinking that it would be a dodgy weapon to take on to the battlefield though. After all, if some twit happened to get the blades mixed up then they could actually give years back to their opponent, rather than killing them dead, which would be rather an unfortunate mistake to make in a fight.

Lex didn’t know when he would use it or how. But? one day? he would need more life. And then, somehow, he would find the courage to stab himself with that blue blade. He had no way of knowing how much life was stored up within the sword, although the stories said it was a hundred years or more. Lex would take whatever he could get. He was an adventurer, after all. And living life was what Lex was all about. It would be frightening? plunging that cool, blue blade into his chest. But Lex was no coward. And there was almost nothing he wouldn’t do to wring more experiences and adventures out of this world before he finally croaked it.

But, for now, he stowed the sword away in his bag. It was another benefit of the enchanter’s magical bag that it seemed able to contain objects completely. Bottles of water could be spilt without so much as a drop of liquid seeping through. By the same measure, it seemed that sharp objects could not penetrate the fabric. Lex was therefore able to carry the sword about with him without any danger of accidentally impaling himself with it during the course of the Game. This was a particular advantage where this sword was concerned since, the fact that it had two blades stretching out in opposite directions, with the handle in the middle, made attempting to sheath it at your belt without cutting yourself rather difficult.

The players gathered, as per Lady Luck’s instructions, on a dusty track just outside Dry Gulch the next morning. They were reduced in number, of course, for Lorella was gone, leaving only the little sprite to play in her place. Possibly that explained the sulky, resentful expression on Thaddeus’s face. Lex had to wonder why the Gods bothered playing at all when they always got into such strops as soon as they started to lose.

As in the previous Game, the players’ points were wiped clean for the third round so that any of them might have a chance of winning. The advantage of the points he’d already earned, however, meant that Lex would get to start the third round before the other players. Flushed with confidence from his victories at Dry Gulch? both obtaining the sword and rescuing Jesse? Lex didn’t really see how he could possibly not win the next round, especially as he was to get a head start. He was positively itching to find out what the third round was to entail so that he could set his mind immediately to the task of winning the Game and triumphing over Jeremiah.

‘The third and final round,’ Lady Luck said with a smile, ‘is to take place in the Gold-Dust Mines.’

The players fairly goggled at her. There had been a great gold rush about a hundred years ago at the Gold-Dust Mines. It was believed that they were amongst the richest? if not the richest? ever to be discovered. Profiteers and entrepreneurs had fled to Dry Gulch hoping to make their fortunes. But? sadly? it appeared that gold was not the only thing down in the mines. There was a ferocious, vicious dragon down there, as well. It had been the last of its kind one hundred years ago. The others had long since died out. Although dragons generally regarded humans as walking snacks, this one was particularly aggressive. It didn’t just kill when it was hungry, but all the time in between as well. It hated everyone and everything and was fiercely possessive of its home. Many believed it to be dead now, but no one dared enter the mines, just in case the fearsome beast still lived. For this dragon was sadistic. It did not simply bite your head off, but ripped out your insides whilst you were still alive and had a little play with your intestines before it finally ate you. No one wanted to die that way.

Several people had tried to slay the beast before. Large, muscled heroes and mercenaries had been brought in to see if they could rid the mines of the scaly menace. But all had failed: chewed up and spat out, armour and all. And so the mines had finally been forced to board up and close down entirely. Too many miners had been killed and there was a little gaggle of widows wailing outside the entrance seven days a week by then. So the place was shut and everyone agreed that it would not be reopened until they could be absolutely sure that the dragon was dead.

The problem, though, was that dragons were known for their longevity and so it might very well still be down there, even though a hundred years had passed.

‘Is the dragon dead, then?’ Jeremiah asked.

‘I hope not,’ Lady Luck replied. ‘It’s the subject of the third round. First player to drive a blade into its heart, wins.’

The sprite looked utterly crestfallen by this, which was to be expected seeing as she was about the size of a thumb and therefore would not be able to wield any blade larger than a toothpick. Jeremiah, on the other hand, looked extremely pleased. No doubt, this was the sort of round that suited him perfectly. After all, it would not require much brainpower to slaughter the dragon? just a strong arm and a complete disregard for the sanctity of life. Having been privately and expensively educated in a posh academy, Jeremiah had probably spent more time out in the forest hunting small, defenceless animals, than he had in the classroom learning how to read and write. History, maths, science, philosophy and all those other academic subjects were probably rather pointless to a member of the aristocracy who was only going to sit around, bossing people about once they were grown up, anyway.

Lex, on the other hand, was not happy about the third round. He was not happy at all. He was an adventurer. He loved exploring new places and doing never-done-before things. He did not kill stuff. He’d never killed anything before in his life? not even on the farm. Lex did not care for blood and gore and death. Those things weren’t fun at all. All right, so the dragon was a terrorising, murderous, blood-maddened beast but, skulking down there in the mines, it was not doing anyone any harm now. Lex tried to tell himself that this was no different from the first round in the last Game where he had defeated a minotaur and a medusa by turning them into stone. They may not technically have been dead, but life as a lump of rock couldn’t really be all that great. Still, this round left a bad taste in his mouth and he found himself extremely annoyed with Lady Luck for devising it. She knew full well that Lex was no warrior, so how the heck did she expect him to win this thing? OK, so he had a head start and a magic sword, but this was not the sort of task that Lex excelled at. Winning this round did not require cleverness, it merely required strength. Any old fool could weight-lift. Lady Luck really ought to have known better, but that was the price you occasionally had to pay for having the most dim-witted deity out there.