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Book 4 Chapter 21: No More Nice Dragon

Well, there was the acute discomfort that was radiating from Arthur's side of their link. That wasn't exactly pleasant, but Brixaby knew he was only getting a small portion of what Arthur felt. So, he could endure.

It lasted until the count of ten, right up until the moment every muscle in Arthur's body clenched up at once. The pain from their link sharpened. Arthur let out a strangled sound, and then he completely collapsed.

"Arthur!" Brixaby reached for him and managed to half catch him in his claws just in time to keep his rider's head from striking the ground.

"Arthur!" Laying his rider down, he frantically focused inward to check the link that tied Arthur's heart deck and his core.

The link was strong. Brixaby let out a breath that whatever was wrong with Arthur's card anchor space had not affected his heart deck. The cards were whole.

That meant the rest of him would be fine, right? Brixaby didn't know much about how humans worked, but dragons were built around their core cards. It should be the same.

By now, the sheriffs had caught the two thieves and managed to restore some order. People had noticed there was something wrong with Arthur.

"What's wrong with him? Did something happen?"

Brixaby looked up to see Jon of the Lightning Cats had come over. That odd Kludge man stood not far away, too, looking concerned.

Brixaby thought quickly. "He was more injured by the toxic gas than he wanted others to believe. It's caught up to him." Which irked him to say because Arthur had taken down that toxic gas man quite handily. Nearly as good as if Brixaby would have, had he done it.

Jon frowned. "We don't have any healers here--look at his arm. He's bleeding."

Jon bent down to check, but Brixaby would have none of that. He thrust his head forward, knocking him away.

"I will attend to my rider," he said, partially because he didn't want anyone who was unskilled in the ways of healing touching Arthur, and partially because he didn't want Jon to get a close look at Arthur's shattered card anchor tattoo.

However, the cat-like man was correct. Arthurs arm was coated in fresh blood. There was no visible wound: It bubbled up from his pores and wept openly close to his card anchor tattoo.

Concerned, Brixaby sniffed him over. Why wasn't he waking up?

He smelled only the mild iron tang of human blood, and... something else.

Startled, Brixaby flicked his tongue out to taste the air -- not around Arthur's arm, but the gray scourge-dust that it laid on.

There was something he had not noticed here. Something that should not be. Something... that would have to wait.

He leaned back and saw that he had attracted more of a crowd.

"I must get my rider to a hospital," he announced.

"Can't you store him, the same way Arthur stored those other injured people?" the Kludge man asked.

Brixaby shot him a narrow-eyed look, disliking how observant the man was. He had correctly guessed he and Arthur could share the same card power.

"I need permission, and clearly," he said with a snarl that was half frustration, "Arthur cannot give it."

"The boy is breathing," Jon said carefully, "But if you two leave, things may get dicey around here."

As if Brixaby cared.

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However, someone had called over the sheriff who'd been busy with the would-be thieves. Brixaby did not want that man to come over here because there was a chance he would notice that the Endless Grindstone card was gone.

Yes, they could scan Arthur and not find it, but it would not take a genius to put two and two together.

He looked at Jon. "You will guard my rider." Then he turned to stride back over to where the cards were being displayed for the action. People quickly stepped out of his path.

Brixaby glanced over the cards, double checked that he and Arthur still had the top bids for the three cards. Then, he took them.

"Hey, wait a minute there," the undersheriff guarding the station said.

Brixaby ignored him as well. He turned to see Lopez striding up.

"What are you doing? Bad, uh, dragon! Put those down!"

Brixaby turned to him with a snarl, showing every one of his teeth. "People have had ample time to place their bids. If you had a brain cell under that overly large hat, you would conduct a second auction with the cards you just recovered, and all the other thieves you will find here."

Lopez drew up short and glanced at Arthur as if unsure if he was feeding lines to his dragon, unconscious or not. "This auction is over when I say it's over."

Brixaby drew himself up. He was not a large dragon, but his sinuous neck gave him height and he took pleasure looking down his curved nose at the man. "The only reason you were able to do this is because my rider did your job. And now he has been injured for it. So, I say when this auction is over."

Brixaby's stunning shout was a skill-based ability, and he had recently reached level 7. Each gain allowed him a little more finesse and control over it. He added a touch of that shout to his last few words, and they rolled over the entire crowd.

All conversation stopped, and eyes turned toward him.

Brixaby held up the three cards. "These were won fair and square in your silly little auction. Who challenges me on this? Step forward!" he announced as he spread all four wings in an impressive display.

The humans exchanged looks with one another, and Brixaby almost hoped someone would step forward. He was exceedingly worried for his rider and would like to take that out on someone.

There was a beat of silence then the Kludge man spoke up.

"What cards did you win?"

"Rainbow Knight, Right Back at Ya, andScales Hard as Stone." After Brixaby spoke, there was a noticeable relaxation among the others. They did not want those cards.

Well, they were fools because he had clearly picked the best of the sorry group, and Arthur had chosen the second best for Brixaby's retinue.

"Fine. Take your cards and get out of here," Lopez said as if he had to give permission. "And don't think I won't be reporting this."

"Do that," Brixaby said. "I will issue my report first. Do you think your words will fly faster than a dragon?"

Then, dropping back down to all fours, he deliberately shouldered past the man, knocking him down, and went back to his rider.

Jon stepped to the side to let him past. The Kludge, however, was looking back at the tables at the space where the Endless Grindstone card should have been. He was frowning.

Well, he might have figured it out, but as he had absolutely no proof, Brixaby didn't care.

Throwing the cards into his Personal Space to deal with later, Brixaby bent to carefully pick up his rider. Then he buzzed straight up, uncaring that the backwash sent scourge-dust everywhere.

Those people were not his problem anymore.

Flying like this was awkward and uncomfortable. Arthur's weight in his arms unbalanced him and he had to beat his front pair of wings exceedingly fast to keep from falling forward.

But he was a purple dragon. He was built for agility and speed.

New Skill Gained: Flying Rescue (Flight)

Due to your cards bonus traits, you automatically start this skill at level 3.

"I have saved people before, including Arthur," Brixaby snapped to Arthur's ridiculous card. "Why did you not grant me the skill until now?"

It being a card, it did not answer.

Brixaby supposed it may be because a skill needed several repetitions to stick.

Brixaby flew toward where the sun was setting, following it and the smell of green growing things, which would lead him to the direction not the city. He set the fastest pace that he could. There was still an alarming amount of blood dripping off of Arthur's arm, and he had not so much as fluttered his eyelids.

So Brixaby transferred his concern into speed.

Though he hated to admit it, he was also somewhat embarrassed. This was the second time in three days that he had brought Arthur to the hospital in dire straits.

If this kept up, people were going to think he did not take proper care of his rider. What would Joy think of him?

Once he reached the city, he located the hospital which had a conveniently flat-topped roof on which to land.

Brixaby touched down. And, turning, he slammed his tail against the door that provided rooftop access.

It had been recently repaired from the other day when he'd done the same thing. But repairs could not hold against his might.

Unfortunately, the stairwell was... a tight fit.

He was forced to suck in his ribs and tuck his wings to fit in. Once he reached the first door, he knocked it open with the top of his head and took a breath. Then with stunning shout laden power, spoke.

"Marion! I demand that you come tend to my rider at once!"