Chapter Chapter Eighty-Five
Several thoughts rocketed through Dorian’s brain the moment Griffin released him. First and foremost, passing through a fireball was going to hurt. It might hurt a lot. That notion was followed closely by the possibility of him missing his target completely. Plummeting straight into the ground would definitely hurt a lot. Plummeting into the cavern floor while on fire would hurt even more. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and braced for the blast.
The split second Dorian spent spiraling within the fireball felt akin to skinny dipping in a pool of arthritis cream flambé. Scorching hot razors and sub-zero icicles raked across his body simultaneously. The firelight was blinding, even viewed through tightly-closed eyes. He wondered if he still had eyelashes.
Dorian inhaled deeply once the heat rose past his face, knowing that it may be his last breath. “Aim for the uvula!” he thought, as if he had control over his decent, or if a uvula was even available to target.
The sudden absence of ambient sound suggested that Dorian had dropped into the open beak of the snallygaster. He pivoted the bo staff to a horizontal position and braced for contact. He imagined that he and the joined katanas would become the spinning blades of a food processor that would decapitate the beast from the inside. As it turned out, one of the katanas stuck into the wall of the snallygaster’s throat and sent him pinwheeling around its interior. It was not the devastating blow he had intended. It was, however, irritating enough to cause the snallygaster’s gag reflex to kick in. It began gacking as if it were about to expel a giant hairball. It halted flight and treaded air as it struggled to clear its throat.
Dorian’s ride became rough as the walls of the throat undulated with each heave. He separated the blades and drove them into the wall as handholds. Flames flickered and then fizzled below him. The snallygaster was not able to form a much-desired flaming loogie.
“At this point, I guess we’re up to Plan D,” Dorian thought aloud. He began carving an escape gash through the side of the neck. He gripped one sword tightly with his multi-hand and fumbled awkwardly with the sword in the other. “Why did I attach Cadence to my dominant hand? I should have added an ambidextrous pinkie to the mix!” He focused on what skills he had in wielding the sword.
Griffin swooped down to join the pair on the ground. He patted out a few glowing embers at the edge of his fur.
“Any sign of him?”
“He’s in there somewhere. I can’t see where,” Leslie said.
“The beast and I have a bit in common,” DeLeon suggested.” It also finds him hard to swallow.”
“Inappropriate,” Leslie frowned.
“There is always room for levity, especially under dire circumstances,” DeLeon insisted. “Can you carry me up and drop me near the head before it gets its torch relit?” DeLeon turned and looked over his shoulders, arms raised. “Can you do with me as you did with him?”
“You’ll have to buy me dinner first!” Griffin laughed.
“Levity!” Leslie chuckled.
Griffin hoisted the conquistador into the air.
“I’ll distract it. Give me a few seconds!” Leslie said and darted into the cavern.
“Hey, ass-souls! Over here! ”
He waved his arms and called out, making himself as visible as possible.
“You must be a jam band’s tour bus because you’re filled with the dead!”
DeLeon looked back at Griffin and rolled his eyes.
“Hey, he tried,” Griffin shrugged. “Levity?”
Leslie’s arm-waving and bad puns were distracting enough to allow the airborne duo to arrive undetected behind the snallygaster’s head. From their new vantage point, they could see the glimmer of Dorian’s blade scything through the crimson feathers of its neck.
“Over there!” DeLeon pointed.
DeLeon dropped onto the nape of the beast and plunged both of his foils into its neck. Griffin remained to hover above.
“Hey!” Dorian yelled from within the throat as two silver spikes slid within inches of him.
“Sorry!” DeLeon called back.
The attack did not go unnoticed. The snallygaster twisted its head and snapped futilely at its assailant. DeLeon grabbed fistfuls of neck feathers and held on tightly.
Dorian continued to slice until there was a large enough hole to pull himself through. Griffin grabbed ahold of his arms and pulled while Dorian was still waist-deep in plumage.
“Hand me a blade!” DeLeon yelled. ”These foils are superb for dueling yet suck for slaying!”
Dorian joined DeLeon at the nape. The two slashed at the neck, working their way through layers of feathers, trying to reach the flesh. The snallygaster bucked at first, then suddenly soared upward. As it neared the cavern ceiling, it pulled its wings in tightly, stalled, and then plummeted back first toward the ground.
Griffin swooped below the falling beast and then rose swiftly, driving his shoulder into its back between Dorian and DeLeon. It had no effect.
“It’s trying to body slam us!” Dorian exclaimed.
“Take the boy!” DeLeon urged.
“No! Take him!” Dorian contradicted. “I’m better suited to take the impact!”
Griffin clutched them by their wrists. He urged them to link arms. “DeLeon kicks free first, as hard as he can. He’ll drop, then it’s Dorian’s turn. After that, it’s all up to me.”
DeLeon pushed free from the creature’s back. As he swung beneath Griffin, Dorian kicked free. Griffin extended his wings, arched his back, and pulled up hard as the trio rolled out from beneath the snallygaster. The snallygaster dropped past them. Griffin strained to keep them aloft.
“Hold on!” he groaned.
The Cromangi shifted posture and went into a dive. He banked a hard right and positioned his dangling cohorts over the beast’s belly. Upon seeing the trio, the snallygaster realized its attackers were no longer on board and unfurled its wings to stop its fall. It was too late. It slammed into the cavern floor with a thunderous thud, scattering debris in all directions.
Griffin attempted to level off, but he couldn’t pull out of his dive. The floor was coming up fast. “Guys, I’m spent! We’re going down. I hope that belly is as soft as it looks!”
“Just let us drop!” DeLeon released his grip on Griffin’s forearm. Dorian released his hold as well. The two began to slip through Griffin’s hands.
“Pump the brakes, rockstar! We’re going to crash. We’re not going to die!”