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  “Tougher than you look, eh,” a, to put it frankly, squeaky voice said.

  Voice and stature combined meant it really must be a young boy and not a small adult. Best guess, the villain was at most fifteen if he was a late bloomer, and more likely to be around age twelve to fourteen.

  As a costume, the young villain wore a scale-pattern black-and-red leathery bodysuit, while his mask was shaped like an open-mouthed snarling lizard. Underneath, a balaclava with the eyes and mouth cut out covered his face, obscuring his identity.

  “And quick as well!” the villain continued. “Saving your little friends before I could roast them fair and square – and here I’d hoped my first would be a three-for-one package deal!” The villain laughed at his own joke while retrieving a knife from his pocket.

  He moved closer to me. I tried backing away, but the phantom pain was still wreaking havoc on my nerves and the attempt send my muscles twitching. Combined with the form-shift disorientation, I didn’t get very far. He squatted down next to me, hovering menacingly. I tensed, prepared to pull out a final, desperate maneuver.

  I gazed inside the snarling maw of his lizard mask and saw that same snarl reflected in his malicious smile. “Ah, well. As the big guy said: better for it to be up close and personal. More memorable this way.” He teasingly lifted his knife above me, holding it loosely between the tips of his fingers and making it swing like a pendulum.

  It was bait, clear as day, but without any other option, I bit. I lunged for the knife.

  He pulled it back long before I got close, letting out wheezy, high-pitched laughs at my failure. At the same time, his other hand lashed out and struck me on the mask, right where my nose was underneath.

  I fell back down with a groan, head ringing and a new wave of dizziness and nausea washing over and disabling me.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” he said, wagging his finger. “What would you even do with a blade? Thought you could slay a dragon? Ha!” The villain clenched his hand over the knife, preparing to strike. Once more, I gathered my strength for a second last ditch effort, knowing it wouldn’t be enough. “Shouldn’t have sent a jester to do a knight’s work.”

  But before either he or I could make a move, a familiar silver thread flew across his chest. It raked across the leather of his costume, tearing it apart with ease but without bloodshed; a controlled strike. The villain yelped in surprise at the attack and jumped back, snarling as he spotted his new opponent.

  “Leave her be, lizard-face,” Crowsong said.

  “You-!” he began, only to be forced further back as another strike of the whip-sword flew toward him.

  “Me,” my mentor said, reeling in the blade. “What are you doing here Drake? Don’t you have a liquor store to vandalize or something?”

  “I told you, it’s Blackflame, you bitch,” he said, pointing his knife at her. “Drake. Blackflame.”

  Crowsong snorted. “Don’t care Drake-y. Didn’t before and sure as shit won’t start now.” She swung her blade again lazily, letting it split apart and whipping it toward her opponent. Again, the strike was meant more to create distance than to actually harm. “I asked, what the fuck is a little piss-boy like you doing here?”

  “I’m here to represent, Crow-ey,” he replied, backing up. “This is Motorgang turf, and all y’all are not invited. So, how about all of you fuck off and leave.” He backed up further and further out of range.

  Crowsong remained right in front of my prone form. “You joined those shit stains?” She snorted and shook her head. “Should’ve just stuck to what you’re good at: flying around and being a pest.”

  “At least I have a team.” He stopped moving back. “Where’s papa-bird again? Oh, right, got cooked to a crisp by Dieselpriest.” He laughed. “Perhaps I should go ahead and make it a tradition.”

  I heard my mentor’s knuckles crack at the jab. “A loser like you? Don’t make me laugh – your bargain-bin flame can’t even boil water. How about you crawl back to the dirt where you belong, you fucking worm. Before this crow decides it needs a midnight snack.”

  “Worm?” he said, voice turning to a growl as it grew deeper. “You’re fucking with a wyrm of a different kind!” The voice was almost animalistic as his body continued to shift. “I’m Drake motherfucking Blackflame!” He roared, bending over and landing on all fours as his body stretched and lengthened. “And I’ll show you how hot I burn!”

  Instead of a prepubescent boy, a dragon now stood before us. Black as night, scales oily in the moon’s light and with a red glow coming from deep within his throat. The blossoming flame seeped through lipless maw and helped illuminate teeth sharp enough to puncture steel.

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  It would’ve been more intimidating if he wasn’t about the size of a dog. A large dog, sure, perhaps even the size of a small pony, and with a long and sinuous neck to add further length. But still, a far cry from the huge dragon I’d been expecting.

  Hence Drake instead of Dragon, I suppose.

  “Burn!” His draconic roar was followed by a stream of red flames leaping from his throat, blasting its way across the train’s roof towards us.

  My mentor had done her job: stalling for time. I’d recovered enough to shift once more, transforming into a cat before dashing away from the incoming flames and jumping down into the dirt.

  Once there, I saw Bizz-Buzz lying a bit further away, leaning his upper body against another train. Apparently, he’d hit his head against it when my rhino form bumped him off and had subsequently been knocked unconscious.

  I quickly shifted back to base form and checked in on him. He was still breathing normally and his helmet was still whole, without visible cracks. I saw no blood seeping from his head or trickling down his face.

  Good, he was as unharmed as could reasonably expected. I quickly – but carefully – put him in recovery position before shifting into my falcon form and taking to the sky once more.

  Crowsong had already begun to engage Drake in close quarters, having dodged his fire breath harmlessly – as expected of my mentor.

  She was lashing out at him with her swords in whip form, but aside from preventing him from flying off, it did little damage, raking across his hardened scales in a shower of sparks.

  Drake tried retaliating with fire, but every time he did one of the swords went for his maw, forcing him to throw his head aside or risk being cut from the inside.

  His attempts to close in and bite my mentor were likewise met with failure. Crowsong was much more agile than him, and a retaliatory swipe of her knife-filled war cloak quickly made him back off from every attempt.

  Now that I knew who the villain was, I recalled what I knew of him. It wasn’t a lot – he was a minor villain, both in terms of age and deed. A liquor store robbery, multiple suspected counts of breaking and entering, and many more suspected counts of arson. His affiliation with Motorgang was new, suggesting escalation.

  None of that mattered now. His powers were simple and obvious: he shifted into a (small) dragon, complete with flames and wings. More relevant was that he had a time limit. Exactly how long was unknown and seemed to vary per recorded encounter, possibly even lengthening as the masked gained experience, but the fact remained that he was on a timer.

  Crowsong’s strategy made sense now. She was keeping him at a distance while preventing him from leaving, forcing a battle of attrition she would inevitably win.

  Still, the margins were too close for comfort. My mentor was much more fragile, and a single swipe of fire, claw or maw would leave her injured if not outright dead. She needed my help.

  I swooped down from above, counting on Drake to dodge backwards after Crowsong’s next whip attack. I flapped my wings to slow down slightly and shifted to base form, still going much faster than I did with Acute Puncture. Drake’s shifter form had plenty of durability, while I relied on my android body to carry me through the impact.

  My prediction proved true once again and Drake leapt back, positioning himself right below me a fraction of a second before I made impact. I landed square on his back with two feet, my android body and the thick boots Crowsong gave me dampening the impact enough to only strain my knees and ankles, not break them.

  Drake, on the other hand, bore the full brunt of the strike.

  He roared in pain and fury as my kick drove him into the roof of the train, his body squishing against it. Crowsong tried to take advantage and leapt to restrain his muzzle, but Drake was quick enough to recover. Red light built in his throat and he looked toward Crowsong.

  My mentor ducked out of the way and rolled off the side of the train before he could fire.

  In response to her disappearance, I saw the villain turn his head downwards in response and open his maw.

  I quickly jumped and transformed into a sparrow, flying up as fast as I could.

  And not a second too soon. Drake released his breath into the roof of the train underneath and his form was swallowed in a pyre of his own making, the dark red shining brightly in the dead of night. The plumes of black smoke rose up towards, threatening to choke and burn me with its embers if I hadn’t immediately moved to the side the moment I saw it.

  Just as fast as it came, the fire faded and Drake rose from his stomach. He spread his wings, beating them once, twice and threatening to fly off.

  My mentor wouldn’t allow it. Using her whip-sword like a grapple, she latched onto the top of the train and jumped, simultaneously reeling in her sword. She shot up and appeared at the top of the train on the villain’s flank. With her blade in solid form and now close enough to strike, Crowsong slashed at the membrane of Drake’s outstretched wing.

  It carved right through and crippled the villain, forcing him to remain on the ground.

  Drake roared in anger and swiped with the cut wing at Crowsong, but it was a clumsy one, guided by reflex and instinct rather than skill. Crowsong dodged and in the same move, darted towards his back and sliced at his hind leg with her other sword.

  Again it hit the mark, slicing through the thick leg’s ligament. It collapsed out from under the villain, bringing him down on at least one knee.

  With the dragon firmly grounded and not going anywhere, I shifted and let gravity do its work, crash-landing onto his back once more.

  The villain’s head rose and he roared in renewed pain, but more importantly, I saw light reforming in his throat once again. This time, his aim seemed to be to blast fire up into the sky and rain it down upon us.

  I saw Crowsong leap from the train, but instead of following her example like last time, I lunged for his head and wrapped my arms around it, pulling it backwards and forcing his jaw shut.

  The villain thrashed against my android-powered grip, shaking his head vigorously in an attempt to dislodge me. The movement threw me side to side before flipping me over.

  I refused to let go however, and quickly readjusted my grip, wrapping my thighs around his neck and pressing my body to his head, resulting in me getting face to face with the dragon. Angry yellow eyes narrowed as they met mine, before the villain decided to smash his head down with as much force as he could, repeatedly.

  My back struck the metal roof again and again, the clash of metal and body sending echoes through the hollow train. But no matter how much the villain tried, his head and neck simply couldn’t muster the force necessary to either hurt enough to force me to back off, or fling me away. So, like riding a bull, I stubbornly kept clinging to his head to the villain’s mounting frustration.

  He moved his uninjured foot to his mouth to try and claw me off instead, but Crowsong re-appeared at just the right time. With another flash of steel, she carved into this leg’s flesh as well, forcing the lizard down on his belly once more.

  A muffled roar of pain followed and Drake renewed his head-bashing, to similarly little effect.

  “You got him?!” Crowsong yelled over the drumbeat sound.

  “I got him!” I answered. Crowsong vanished, likely to disable his other limbs.

  Drake’s headbanging continued, interrupted thrice by pained roars – as predicted, Crowsong was cutting his remaining legs and wing. For all intents and purposes, the fight was over.

  Despite having no feasible way of escape, the villain refused to give up. Pride, stubbornness or panic, I didn’t know, and with his lizard-face and eyes shut tight, I couldn’t tell. Not that it mattered; he was not getting out of here.

  He continued for five more minutes, his head growing more and more sluggish with each and every headbang. Then, after it had slowed to a crawl, his head stopped altogether and laid down on the roof. When his body started to transform, I released his head and stepped away.

  His body bubbled and skin shifted, large scales blending together to form small ones as his form continued to decrease in size. It took a while – much slower than my power, that much was sure – but eventually, we were left with a young villain knocked unconscious by the overuse of his powers.

  Crowsong quickly secured him and asked, “Bizz-Buzz and Acute Puncture still alive?”

  “Bizz-Buzz is knocked unconscious,” I told her. I walked up to the edge on the opposite side, looking over it to see where the Jannacht villain had presumably landed. “Acute Puncture is gone, along with her sword.”

  “Well, at least we know she’s alive. So, mission accomplished,” Crowsong said. “You stay with Bizz-Buzz, just in case. I’ll go ahead and call the Guardians for-”

  “How about you don’t,” a deep voice interrupted.