A Dragon's Enemy

Escape and Betray

A quarter of an hour before Sovelia was to have her little outside payment, her little pet came in and explained what she had done. It was straight forward, easy enough to understand, and it made the Northern dragon purr as she brought the shorter woman into her arms to give her a quick kiss on the forehead. What Sovelia managed to not include as she bid her farewell, well, was that it would be permanent.

***

John checked his watch for the fourth time. Moriarty had been in the air for around eight minutes now and she hadn’t tried anything.

Maybe she had been telling the truth. He tentatively sent to Sherlock, but he felt a scoff through their link, and that made John’s stomach curl.

Don’t let your guard down until she’s back in her cell, was all the dragon sent back, eyes narrowed and tense as he watched, just waiting, careful. The horns poking up from his curls were a bright red; he was prepared to take action if he needed to. He could imagine what the plan would be. Lull the onlookers into a false sense of security for as long as possible, then do something that would take everybody by surprise.

***

She was waiting for it; the moment where the Warden would tell her time was up. Everyone would be sure she wouldn’t do anything by now, that she was going to behave herself. She flew around, half dragon half humanoid, enjoying the sun on her face as she warmed her wings. If this worked she would need to get somewhere cool though. Her body temperature rising would do nothing to help her. That was why she wasn’t completely shifted. If she was, it would take a lot more energy to keep the larger animal cold.

Her visible scales and wings were a superficial orange, though anyone who was watching would mistake the color for happiness or joy at finally getting some fresh air. Not that the dusty air was that fresh at all. It was hurting her chest actually, the pollutants in the air, but she had to act as if she was enjoying herself. She grinned down to everyone, even managing to wave cheerily, and the people who saw seemed confused and waved back half heartedly. That made Sovelia laugh happily, and she saw a couple of the men smiling along with her. Gullible pricks.

She, after about the right amount of time, finally heard Toad yelling to her. “Time’s up, come down!” She complied immediately, muscles coiling in anticipation. She almost touched the ground, people coming forward to chain her up, when she morphed completely, causing multiple people to exclaim loudly in surprise. She took off upwards at a frightening speed, and she felt the chain break. Her little pet, finding a link in the chain, put boiling water over it multiple times, over the period of the whole night, weakening said link. When the chain went taught, it only pulled her back slightly, choking her dragon form for a moment before snapping.

A length of the metal still hung from her throat, but Sovelia roared loudly, immediately heading away from the encampment. She could hear multiple guns going off, but they would do nothing to harm her.

It was only when she felt the tongues of a flame on her back leg that she turned. How typical of the pets to come after her.

***

Sherlock was off the ground and in his dragon form before John could tell him otherwise. Two other dragons as well, a Chinese and an English, took off as well, though for some reason, the Chinese looked elated to be in the air chasing, her pearly white scales looked vibrate.

The English was closest first, letting out a stream of fire that almost got the other Northern, but she turned and shrieked, taking the English by surprise as she collided with him mid-air, ripping out his stomach with claws of ice and nail. The blood started dropping like rain, and the dragon fell quickly after it, his body mangled and unrecognizable after being attacked by such ferocity.

The Chinese was next, but she slowed beside the Northern, rubbing her face up against her flank. Sherlock heard her soft voice as she tried to communicate.

Did I do well? I love you, Queen, I do.

 

Sherlock’s wings faltered, but he suddenly felt a burst of energy at the fury in his gut. She had been working from the inside. He planned on taking the Chinese down first, but it seemed that Moriarty had the same idea.

The same kind of shriek from a few days previous, one that made Sherlock drop in altitude…

YOU WERE ALWAYS SO GULLIBLE.

 

NO… YOU HAVE OUTLIVED YOUR USEFULLNESS.

 

And with that, Moriarty got her claws around the devoted Chinese’s throat, ripping out her trachea with a well placed swipe as she kept her gaze with the smaller dragon.

There was a blood curdling scream of pain, a betrayed, QUEE-, before the blood stuck in her throat and started suffocating her.

Moriarty turned a vibrant joyous yellow, seeming to think there was no one else to hinder her escape. The was no way the Anti-Dragon artillery had been set up in time, and Sherlock furiously shook his head to clear it as he flew silently up behind the merciless other. He set up a shard of ice in his throat, making sure he didn’t get too close as he shot it out of his mouth, the projectile flying straight to it’s target as it pierced the wing.

Moriarty turned, though the action was sloppy as the air tore the rip open further. Sherlock didn’t expect it, but the female did exactly what she did before with the English dragon. She flew right at him, and Sherlock roared, curling up with quick slicing movements as she tried to hook her claws into the weak spots in his scales. She brought her front leg up, and it was coming down quickly to his eye, but Sherlock turned his head away at the last moment, the already bloody nails raking down the side of his still camouflaged sandy scales. He could smell his blood, and he came back at her with the same amount of viciousness, biting and hacking wherever he could, though she seemed to be giving damage more than she was taking.

They were still moving as they fought, away from the encampment, away from John, further into the desert. Their pace was manic and somewhat stilted, their altitude in the cold as they had risen more than they had covered ground. It was only when Moriarty shrieked once more, this time verbally, that they started to drop. Sherlock had got her wing between two ligaments, right on the joint, and had snapped it clean. She was falling now, unable to keep herself in the air. She was falling, but her claws hooked right under Sherlock’s forelegs.

She was bringing him to the ground as well.