The King's Dragon (16 page)

The riches that we have all enjoyed belong to others. Now they have come to claim it back. So we must return it. We are not thieves! We must give back to these visitors what is rightfully theirs.

Whatever you have — bring it to the grand plaza.'

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THE KING’S DRAGON

The Teller held up his left hand. One by one, he took off the array of rings. 'We all must make this sacrifice,' he said. 'I shall be first. Please! Follow my lead! Bring all that you have to the grand plaza.' He held out his palm, showing the rings lying there. 'Bring it quickly!'

Rory nodded enthusiastically. He glanced down towards the plaza. There wasn't much movement there yet, but he supposed they hadn't been going for long and perhaps it was taking people some time to get used to the idea of a pocket-sized Teller talking to them in their own homes. 'Keep going!'

Rory mouthed. 'You're doing great!'

The Teller had barely started to repeat his message before they heard the drone of engines across the valley. He pointed at the sky. 'The star-dragons! They're returning!'

Rory looked up. Two distant specks of light shone above Geath. As he watched, they began their approach. They hurtled like lightning along the valley and across the city at such close range that Rory ducked instinctively as they passed directly overhead. 'Wow!' Dragons or dragon-ships - both were awesome, both were terrifying.

'Come on!' he yelled to the Teller over the roar.

'We've got to keep going!'

The Teller made his broadcast again and, to Rory's relief, he saw the first signs that they were
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being heard and understood. A dozen or so people ran into the plaza, dumped armfuls of Enamour near the steps of the council chamber, and then ran off again - Rory hoped - to collect more.

'We should show them you mean it,' Rory called to the Teller, pointing down at the collection of rings.

They ran down into the plaza and the Teller threw his rings onto the pile of goods accumulating there. 'See!' he cried. 'All of us! We all have to do this!'

As he spoke, an inhuman howl rose up, like metal scraping across the soul. A dark figure took shape at the far side of the plaza. The Teller turned frantically to the transmitter. 'Please!' he begged the people of Geath. 'You've got to listen! You've got to do what I ask! We don't have much time!

Bring out the metal!'

Rory turned the dish towards the Regulator.

Perhaps if people saw it, even indirectly, they would grasp that it wasn't made up, the Geathian equivalent of an urban myth. The Regulator shot up until it towered over the council building, blotting out the gold haze rising from the dome. Rory trembled under the influence of the emotional amplifiers. The dish shook in his hands.

The image of the Regulator wavered in and out, but its demands boomed out across the valley and
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directly into every home in Geath.

'I represent the Regulatory Board. Under Clause 9.4b (subsection 12.2) of the Regulation of Psycho-Manipulatory Metals Act (30673.26) all parties here assembled must hand over any substances covered by said Act. Under powers granted to the Regulatory Board by the Regulation of Psycho-Manipulatory Metals Act (30673.26), reasonable force can be used to secure all substances covered by said Act.'

'Do what it says!' The Teller's shout was barely audible over the Regulator's wail. 'Bring it out!

Bring it out!'

But the plaza was empty. Everyone had fled before the Regulator and nobody dared to come and confront it. Except one man.

Beol rode out. His armour flamed gloriously in the darkness, unaffected by the Regulator's power.

He galloped across the plaza until he was face to face with his enemy. He reined his horse back, stood up in his stirrups, and lifted his sword.

'Be gone, foul monster!' he cried. 'Leave my city in peace!'

'Oh, Beol,' his brother whispered. 'Don't get yourself killed now.'

The Regulator bore down on the King.

'Surrender the Enamour!' it bellowed.

'Never!' cried the King. He brandished his
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sword, spurred on his horse, and galloped headlong at the Regulator. Rory, still trembling in fear and excitement, held up the satellite dish and captured the moment, showing it to the whole of Geath.

The King rode straight through the Regulator. It flickered wildly and then disappeared. Beol, turning for a second pass, saw his victory and threw his sword up into the air. He caught it with ease.

The people of Geath flooded into the plaza. A chant rose up:
Beol! Beol! Beol!
Even Rory, knowing it was a projection, almost cheered along with them.

Then he saw the Teller's face.

'What did you do that for? They'll never listen to me now!'

Rory frowned and scratched his head. 'What are we going to
do?'

Amy and the Doctor stopped outside the side entrance leading onto the arcade. The Doctor opened the door a crack and they both peered inside. The dragon slumbered in the centre of the hall. 'Right,' whispered the Doctor. 'What do you want to do?'

'Why are you asking me?'

'You're the one that kept talking about heists.'

'Doctor!'

However, Amy didn't get to speak her mind.

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The Doctor grabbed her arm and pointed at the dragon. On its Enamoured flank, a face was coming into focus. Rory's face, somewhat larger than life.

'I know he's my boyfriend and all,' whispered Amy, 'but that's
scary.'

'Doctor!' Rory's voice boomed out around the hall. 'Are you there? We've got a problem!'

The Doctor put his hand to his forehead.

'Secretly
steal the dragon, is what I said. Which part of "secretly" is so difficult to understand?'

'Is it working?' asked the Teller.

Rory stared unhappily down at the satellite dish. 'I have absolutely no idea.'

'I know I'm not an expert,' the Teller said, hesitantly, 'but how can he reply? Does he have one of the bowls too?'

Rory sighed, bent down, and picked up the dish. 'No.'

'So what now? We've got to keep them bringing out the metal.'

Rory pocketed the dish. 'What we need is someone that's at least as good as you at getting people to do what they want. Seems obvious to me. We need Hilthe.' He caught the Teller's expression. 'Oh, don't you start!'

'I feel I should I point out,' the Teller said silkily,

'that I
easily
defeated Hilthe in the last election.'

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'True, but then she's not the one that's caused two massive dragon-ships to come screaming over the city and raining fire down on it. I think her stock might be up.'

The Teller stopped complaining, but he hardly looked happy.

'Come on,' Rory said. 'Hilthe-wards.'

'What shall we do?' Amy whispered. The huge image of Rory's face flickered and then disappeared.

'We'll sneak over to the dragon,' the Doctor whispered back. 'Open it up. See if there's another dish. He has to go and talk to Hilthe. Get her to help.'

'Oh, he'll like hearing you say that! All right, lead on.'

They came out of the cover of the arcade and tiptoed towards the dragon.

'Halt! You're under arrest!'

Four of Beol's knights stepped out of the shadows, short swords drawn, and advanced on them. The Doctor ran, weaving around the columns of the arcade. Amy dived in the other direction, drawing away two of their pursuers.

'I have to talk to Beol!' shouted the Doctor as he helter-skeltered round a pillar. 'He has to listen!

Why won't any of you listen? Is it the jacket? The
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mud's your fault! You should pave your roads! Is it the bow tie? Is it the
face?
How many times do I have to say it? Appearances can be deceptive! I'm nine hundred years old, you know!'

Rushing past the main doors to the hall, the Doctor crashed straight into Beol, on his way in.

'There you are! About time!' He smoothed down his jacket and straightened his bow tie. 'What does a man have to do to get an audience around here?'

Beol seized the Doctor's arms, spun him round, and pinned him up against the wall of the chamber.

'You have to
listen!'
said the Doctor, voice somewhat muffled now that his face was pressed up against gilded stone.

Amy, at bay behind the dragon with two knights advancing on her, yelled at Beol, 'Stop being such a cloth-headed stupid lump of muscle and let the man
speak
to you!'

Beol looked at her with a rather hurt expression and then, suddenly, his face changed.

'What?' Amy said. 'What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?'

'Amy!' cried the Doctor, trying to release himself from Beol's grasp.

Amy looked down at her hands. Gold light was transforming the flesh on them, turning them
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translucent.

The Herald was coming — only this time she had not waited to be summoned.

In sheer fury, the Doctor wrested himself free of Beol's hold. He ran across the council hall, but could not get close enough to the Herald to try to pull Amy back. Besides, it was already too late.

Amy was enveloped in golden light. A strident harmony was building up, echoing off all the metal in the hall.

Beol ran over to the Doctor. 'What's happening?' he shouted.

The Doctor ignored him. 'Let her go!' he yelled at the Herald. 'This is a crime, a terrible crime! You don't have her permission! Get out of her body!'

The Herald turned to face him, white light flashing from Amy's eyes. 'We have waited long enough,' she said, her voice harsh and belligerent, a terrible distortion of Amy's. 'Surrender the Enamour or we will destroy you. We will destroy this world.'

Beol grabbed the Doctor's arm. 'What's happening? What has happened to your friend?

What is this apparition?'

The Doctor swung round to face him. 'This is your enemy!' he shouted at the young man and pointed at the Herald. 'Not Dant, not Sheal!
This!

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The enemy of us all! A power that uses other people as a means to her own ends! A mind that can only think of others as tools, as possessions!'

'I know that enemy,' Beol said simply. 'What must I do to defeat it?'

The Doctor did not reply. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out another device taken from the dragon earlier. It was a small black box. He dived forwards to set it on the floor a few metres away from the Herald and aimed it towards her.

'What are you doing?' said Beol. 'What is that?'

'This will defeat her,' the Doctor said, quietly, fiercely. 'It's done it at least once already.'

A low howl rose up from the box.

Beol started. 'I have heard this sound before many times.'

'Watch,' said the Doctor.

In bare seconds, a dark shape appeared and began to rise up, hands outstretched for the Herald.

Beol, horrified, turned to the Doctor. 'But this is the beast I defeated only moments ago!'

The howling got steadily louder, the scream of an angry, wounded animal. The King pressed his hands against his ears.

'Defeated it?' The Doctor laughed hollowly. 'It was an illusion, Beol! They can make as many of these as they want. They'll keep sending them
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down here to scream at you until you beg them to take their dragon back. But they'll set the city on fire first!' He had to shout to be heard over the cacophony, the discord between the Herald's martial music and the shriek of the Regulator that he was creating. 'Your victory was an illusion, Beol! You were never in danger!' The Doctor bent down over the controls, directing his Regulator to begin its assault on the Herald.

The Herald reacted violently. She raised Amy's hands and sent waves of the golden rings of light out across the hall. They struck the two knights closest to her and sent them flying. They crashed against the big stone columns and fell to the ground, bodies crumpling as if they were nothing more than dolls thrown away by a spoiled child in a fit of pitiless pique. Beol ran to them, but the Herald, catching his movement, turned her wrath towards him. She lifted Amy's hand and prepared to send out another bolt of deadly light. Only the Doctor, turning the Regulator upon her, prevented Beol from being killed. The King took cover behind one of the columns. The Doctor turned back to the Herald and pressed his assault.

Trapped within the Herald's sphere of influence, Amy knew from the moment that the Doctor put the box on the ground that his projection would
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only make matters worse for her. Close now to the Herald's mind, closer than she ever wanted to be, she knew that the presence of the Doctor's Regulator served chiefly to enrage her. The Herald, Amy knew, would never let her go as long as the Doctor threatened her, and perhaps not even then.

Tears rolled down Amy's cheeks as the alien used her hands to deliver the lethal blow that blasted Beol's knights across the hall. 'Switch it off!'

she whispered, but her voice was overwhelmed by the Herald's cruel song.

The Herald turned towards Beol, lifting Amy's hand against him, but the Doctor's Regulator pushed her back. The Herald recoiled and cried out in thwarted agony. Amy seized her chance.

Summoning every ounce of her will, she screamed at the Doctor, 'Switch it off! Switch it off! It hurts!'

The Doctor heard. He gave Amy an anguished look, then grabbed the black box and thumped it.

His Regulator subsided and disappeared.

But the Herald was not going to let Amy's act of defiance go unpunished. She turned all of her will and her fury inwards, battering against Amy's defences, her sense of self. Now Amy felt the impact of the emotional amplifiers in the hands of an expert, manipulated by someone who knew exactly how to wield this technology. This was their
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