[ 36 ]

THAT HEARTSHRINKER SWORD IS A MIRACLE

I climb up out of the hatch and there I am, squatting near the gated entrance to the Institute where I was before.

Everything Metheldra told me has been true.

So I unfurl my wings and flap them twice and set out flying through the jungle back to Central Campus. That dragoness Metheldra might be a little deranged but she is a total maestro when it comes to her blades. I mean there’s no way I can deny the newfound sense of strength and power. My heart definitely feels smaller, shriveled, shrunken. Insignificant.

It feels glorious to pound my wings like this and work off all the crazy building up inside me. Whizzing through the jungle. And I’m flying as fast as I possibly can because I want to get back to the WarWings gymnasium. And I can definitely feel the new astronomical levels of WTP coursing through me from all that swordupuncture.

My God. That HeartShrinker sword is a real miracle worker.

Glance down at powerstaff. FLIGHT SPEED at 238 MPH.

WILL TO POWER has exploded. FangBanger.

So I fly my scaly ass a couple miles through the jungle. And I’m almost back to Central Campus when off to my right I hear a swoosh noise.

As I turn to look, a massive powerstaff swings out from behind a tree and strikes me between the eyes.

Whack.

When I open my eyes, I’ve got the worst headache of my life. And I can feel my blood pounding in my dome and for a second I get real worried that my skull is going to explode.

Then I look up and see that maniac dragon Rexro squatting here over me.

Great. Just what I need.

Now squatting alongside Rexro is one of his WarWings Security Commando dragon goons. I groan and reach up with my talons and feel a giant bump on my skull from where this dragon Rexro has whacked me with his powerstaff.

“Hey boss,” growls the Commando dragon, “he’s coming around! He’s waking up! Hey boss! Looky!”

That’s when I notice something is off. Because Rexro and his Commando fiend are upside down. And I wonder if Rexro’s mighty crack to my skull has shattered my neural pathways, given me brain damage.

Then I twist around and look up and see these two fool dragons have strung me upside down from a tree branch. I’m upside down there with my leathery wings hanging limp off my back, and I am slowly twirling in circles.

So that explains why my head’s throbbing like a bastard.

“Well well well,” says Rexro. “Looks like this little birdie flew too far from his nest!”

The fiend next to him starts giggling hideously and snorting blacksmoke out his nostrils.

Fortunately for me, I have a secret. Because what these two fools don’t know is that at this moment I just so happen to be rocking a FangBanger. And what else these two dragons don’t know is I just had forty or so swords jammed in me up to the hilt and now my BIOCON LEVS are so high I ought to be registered as a lethal weapon.

Not only that, my wounded black heart has recently shriveled up to the size of a raisin.

So I reach for my powerstaff on my utility belt and prepare to chop these dragon bastards’ heads off with my laserblade.

What?

My talons grasp around on my utility belt but my powerstaff isn’t there. The holster is empty.

Crap.

“Hey boss. What should we do with him? Huh? What should we do with him?”

“That’s an excellent question,” snarls Rexro. “Now let me see. Mmmm. What should we do with him?”

Meanwhile I’m focused on locating my powerstaff. If I can just find it. I mean it has to be around here somewhere. And as I twirl around upside down, my hooded eyes light upon my powerstaff in the tall grass where it must’ve fallen when they grabbed me.

Aha.

Now as I slowly twirl upside down I strain and reach my talons out for my powerstaff. Because if I can just get my powerstaff, I know with my shrunken heart and my new BIOCON LEVS I can chop off these dragons’ extremities in a jiffy. And the flesh flies will pick their scaly corpses clean before anyone even notices they are missing. Now the hot sun overhead is beating down on us, and I keep reaching for my powerstaff, and the rope tied around my webbed foot creaks under the strain of my weight.

“Let’s kill ’im and eat ’im, boss,” says the security goon. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat!”

I spread my black claws out and strain and use all my powers and you can see the biokinetic currents crackling from the tips of my claws to my powerstaff there in the grass.

Come on.

Just a little bit more.

There you go.

Now the powerstaff trembles in the grass. Then it hops over a couple inches in my direction and leaps up into the air and straight into my talon with a reassuring smack sound. It’s the most glorious feeling. I close my claws around the handle.

I’ve got it! I’ve got it! I’ve got—

The powerstaff tumbles out of my talon.

Oh God.

Now that ruthless tyrant Rexro steps forward and rakes his toe claws across my scaly green snout and I feel the blood well up in the fresh cuts and start trickling down my beak.

“That,” says Rexro, as he reaches out to steady the rope I’m hanging from, “is for blasting my cage with a firestream. You little sonuvabitch. I oughta kill you right now.”

Then Rexro’s Security Commando dragon blasts a firestream at the ground and instantly a massive fire is going right there in front of us.

“Looky there, boss! I made a fire! Now let’s cook ’im over the fire and eat ’im! I’m hungry, boss!”

Rexro conks him over the head with his powerstaff.

“Ouch!” snarls the security goon, cradling his scaly green head with his talons. “Whatdya do that for, boss?”

“Shut up, you idiot!” snarls Rexro. “Do you know who this is? This is Dr. Terrible’s grandson. The Dean said for me to fetch him back alive. Because the Dean wants to execute him out on the campus quad. Make an example of him. Maybe even lure Dr. Terrible out of hiding, case he wants to try and rescue his grandson.”

“Oh goody! Oh goody! Oh goody!”

Then Rexro looks down at me and snarls, “Today’s your lucky day, cadet. Normally I’d just eat you and be done with it. But Dean Floop says he wants to execute you himself. So that’s how we’re gonna play this! I am to take you to his lair right this minute!”

I feel my heart sink at the mention of Dean Floop’s name. Because the Dean’s lair is legend at WarWings, and for as long as anybody can remember, every cadet who enters the Dean’s lair has a nasty habit of ending up on the business end of a firestream. Or being eaten.

Now this big dragon Rexro yanks me down from the tree and I collapse in the dirt in a heap. Then Rexro binds my wings and forelimbs with flexcuffs. He throws me in some sort of bag and takes off flying through the jungle with me inside the bag, slung over his shoulder. It seems like he’s purposefully banging me against every single tree trunk he flies by.

Bam.

Bam.

Bam.

I feel myself coming in and out of consciousness. And I can hear Rexro’s massive leathery wings thumping through the air as we fly forward.

Where is my Queen?