Fire ripped through the seams so suddenly, most of the assembled fell back and lost their footing, crumpling in a cacophony of metallic clanks. They were fortunate to avoid the splash of lava that followed. It belched into the air as the earth shifted, and showered around the opening that was quickly overflowing with molten material. Only one of those present failed to avoid the hot splatter, but this was no reason for anyone to be upset. The would-be victim simply wiped his brow.
“I told you all to stand back a moment! What, do you think this is easy?”
Hector, who was said to be a knight of renown, somewhere, by at least someone, maybe, hopped to his feet and waved a fist. “Yogginz, we never know when to take you seriously! That's all you do is complain!”
“Oh! Oh! Okay! Gee, let me see. How many other dragons do you have here? Hmm? Oh, it's just me? The only one here that can actually put his hands in this stuff? So, I don't know, maybe when you can dip your hands in lava, you can tell everyone where to stand so they don't melt under a fiery heap of slag!”
Cass the Not-so-knightly struggled to her feet. The lava had just missed her, but had singed some of her long, red hair. She stood behind her giant shield a little more cautiously now. “Okay, okay. Let's not fight every time we do this, guys.”
Yogginz snorted. “Look, just...okay, hold on...” He was struggling with something deep within the crack that now threatened to burst with another splotch of death. “Cripes, I feel like some human farmer with his arm up a cow's backside. Seriously, got a deep one here.”
Hector groaned. “Great. Okay, team. Let's get those tongs ready!”
Yogginz hissed with a sharp intake of breath, yanking his arm out of the seam. Cass's eyes flew wide, and she fell back, ducking under her shield the moment a few drips of escaping magma blorped in her direction. As always, she was like a magnet for that stuff. One could tell from the dark circles around her eyes that she was losing sleep over it. It was a whole thing at this point; more and more, she made schizophrenic accusations that the inner, boiling earth itself was out to get her.
Redakra, Guardian Monk of the Tools of Earth, reappeared from the team's cart. Two of his assistants from the temple dragged a large, metallic cross-section over the cavern floor. Quickly as they dared, and fast as they could with their unwieldy burden, they brought it alongside the massive bulk of the dragon, Yogginz. Yogginz was blowing steadily on one arm, shaking the over-muscled appendage in the cavern air.
“We should hurry this up.” Hector cautioned.
“Oh, can it, tin can man! Just because I'm fire resistant doesn't mean I'm fireproof. Stick your arm in that sludge, why don't you? And it's not exactly easy to move in the stuff. It is molten rock, remember?”
Cass huffed an annoyed breath, keeping her eyes on the crack covering the cavern floor. It seemed to be giving her a look as well. The others would think she was crazy. They would tell her she was crazy. They definitely, on several occasions now, had said that she was absolutely crazy, yes. And right about here is where she lost her train of thought, so she took a cautious step back and made an angry face at Yogginz.
“Quit griping already and get in there. You know, the whole kingdom thinks we're the best dragonstitching team this side of Atlantis. Just imagine if they knew how every single one of our expeditions looks from the inside.”
“Yeah, yeah. Little Miss Earth Is Gonna Eat Me here knows best, right? Well, if you don't give me a minute, you'll be stitching an actual dragon instead of this lava seam.”
“Not to put too fine a point on things,” came the serene, collected voice of Redakra, “but this seam could overflow into the whole valley. Our measurements indicate enough lava flow potential to bury the three towns we passed. At least two of the lakes we encountered would boil away.”
Yogginz snorted again, but nodded at the monk. “At least someone here can keep a cool head.”
“It sure isn't you.” Hector muttered.
“I'm a dragon. I breathe fire. I'm always hot-headed. Are we all just pretending there was no Dragon War two centuries ago? I was there, for the record. Burned a whole lot of humans.”
“Yes, yes, we've heard it before. Hey, who won that war, by the way? Was it the dragons?”
Yogginz growled. “Hector, I swear, next time you need me to fly you somewhere...”
“Oh?” Hector said, folding his arms.
“I'll make sure it's a very bumpy ride! You just wait. You wait.”
Yogginz snatched the tongs in annoyance, hefting the the eight-foot tool effortlessly in his scaly claws. Towering over his companions, he bellowed, “Now if you could actually stand back this time.”
Hector took a few steps back. Cass did likewise, looking over her shoulder with each dainty placement of her armored boots. The monks seemed to float backward on the air, robes drifting over the rocky surface like the ray creatures of the sea.
Yogginz plunged the tongs into the earth. He bit one corner of his mouth and twisted, turned, jiggled, shook, and yanked, pulling away nothing at first. He tried again. If he was not quick, the Atlantean steel would start to warp and bend in the heat, and his arm was once more starting to feel the sting of fire through his scales, for he was still wrist-deep in the melted earth.
“C'mon, c'mooooonnnn...”
Something popped loudly, and the whole cave shook. The sluices opened. A rushing sound signaled the drain of magma into the unblocked passage. Steam hissed through the crack. The knights and monks were already returning from the carts with special sheeting to cover the wound in the earth. The large square of cloth caught the wind as they ran, and nearly lifted them off their feet as more steam suddenly hissed from the seam. Yogginz quickly slammed a massive palm over the sheet, and the heat from below shrank the fabric.
The humans all darted back, and even Cass abandoned her usual suspicion of the ground as they scurried to cover. Yogginz drew back, taking in a deep breath that sucked the air out of the depths of the cave. Jaw dropping open like a tunnel to hell, he fanned out a mighty flame that instantly melted the heat sensitive fabric to the floor of the cave.
Everything went silent. Yogginz fell to all fours and grimaced. All previous arguments simply vanished as he and Hector gave each other a nod, and each leveled a thumbs-up at the other.
Cass shook her head. It always went this way. If only those two could be like this during the job.
They packed up their tools and departed the cave. Their horses dragged the carts along, and it took six horses, for there were three carts total; the final cart containing the cooling pool for the hissing tongs. Steam from the cooling Atlantean steel trailed them all the way down the path out of the mountain.
“Well,” boasted Hector, “another fine stitching. Great job everyone.”
“And what's our next mission?” Yogginz asked.
Redakra and his quiet monks swiftly moved alongside Cass and Yogginz. “It seems we have another plug threatening the quartz mines. The Hyperborean emissaries discovered it on their way to Central Atlantis. Shaking in the hills like you wouldn't believe, so they said.”
Cass shook her head. “It's as if someone is doing this on purpose.”
Redakra nodded solemnly. “Not 'as if.' There is mischief afoot. Though how they are pulling it off without the help of dragons is a mystery. We have account of all the dragons in Atlantis.”
Yogginz grunted. “As if we're the ones that can't be trusted. Your kind invented political intrigue. Besides, the war is long over.”
“Atlantis will sink if this keeps up.” Hector warned. The path widened, and he mounted his horse, turning to let the others catch up. Now that there was a little more room on the path, Yogginz stretched his wings.
“As if that would ever happen.” Yogginz said. “Mighty Atlantis? Hah. The rest of the world will be lost to time before Atlantis falls. Cass? Are you ready to hit the skies?”
Cass nodded, thankfully, and kicked a pebble across the ground, peering at it suspiciously. The dark circles around her eyes seemed worse every month. “Thought you would never ask. Sooner the better.”
“Hmm.” pondered Redakra. “Atlantis sinking? Now there's a thought. The Temple of the Tools of Earth have picked up strange patterns before but...”
Everyone raised an eyebrow, staring at him.
“Oh, I'm sure it's nothing.” Redakra remarked.
“Doesn't sound like nothing.” Yogginz retorted.
Redakra thought for a moment. “I don't know. I don't think it's really anything to worry about. Or maybe...Yogginz, how long do dragons live?”
Yogginz tilted his head and blinked reptilian eyes at him. “Longer than the Hyperboreans. Fifteen hundred years in some cases. My kind usually live to be twelve hundred years old.”
“And how old are you now?” asked Redakra.
“Three hundred and seventy eight.”
Redakra seemed to be doing a mental calculation. Everyone had stopped moving now.
“Ah, yes. Then there's nothing to really worry about. I'm sure of that.”
An ominous silence descended over everyone.
However, it was just the mad talk of monks, who spent way too much time pulling numbers from their unfathomable instruments. Yogginz broke the spell with a snort and a shake of his head.
“Cass?”
He lowered his head, and Cass hopped onto his neck, pulling herself up with her free arm and dragging the shield along. The shield latched to a chain on the dragon's neck, giving her a foothold.
Yogginz spread his wings and slid off the side of the mountain, catching the wind and rising above the entourage. The horses started on their course, and the Atlantean Dragonstitchers began their journey to the next patch job.