Tanya Grotter and the Golden Leech

The Gandharva-Tibidox match had begun.

Tanya hurriedly uttered Speedus envenomus, waved her bow, and took off, as always with pleasure sensing the resilient air resistance. The strings of the double bass impatiently hummed. The warm wood of the instrument trembled, almost alive. Here it is, excitement, anticipation of a match not yet begun!

To the right and left, on top and below, bending over their instruments, other players of the Tibidox team fuss. Here is Yagun, rattling something into the silver mouthpiece, deftly moving from hand to hand the pipe of his vacuum. Here is the beauty Katya Lotkova on the Dirt vacuum repairing talismans. Here is Zhora Zhikin trembling on the sneezing mop with a propeller, simultaneously showing off in front of female admirers. Here is Coffinia, clearly preoccupied with staying on the Swine-sportage. And who is there above? Aha, Liza Zalizina, with an offended look, blows on her finger and with a fist threatens her cuckoo for pecking her.

But the gandharvas were already flickering in front, first gaining altitude, then swiftly diving downward, indistinguishable from each other for the unaccustomed eye. Some of them, clearly teasing the Tibidox players, with an air of detachment strummed on their three-stringed lutes; others soared, catching oncoming air streams with their wings. Their powerful sharp-clawed paws were decorated with long colourful ribbons.

The gates of the Northern hangar were thrown open. Following puffs of smoke and long tongues of flames, a hostile dragon shot forward. Tanya looked narrowly at it and it made her ill at ease. Moreover, it immediately became understandable why the gandharvas hid it so thoroughly and allowed no one into the hangar.

In looks this was a typical Eastern dragon – with golden scales, a lean body flexible like a snake, many bone plates and complex growths on the scales, long whiskers and somewhat dull teeth, among which perhaps only the four jutting out canine teeth were frightening. The claws were strong, the feet powerful, but no stronger nor more powerful than, say, those of Flying Meatball, the dragon of the babai.

No, the advantage of the Indian dragon was not in this. Quick, invincible, it moved around above the field and fired long tongues of flame like daggers at the Tibidox players. And what a flame this was, Tanya realized when the scorching fiery jet, shot from the huge distance of the field, suddenly singed her hair and the dry heat burned her cheek.

Ff-sh-sh-shuh!

Yelling, the young Grotter waved her bow and threw her double bass to the side. Good that the flame was spent, and also the vampire bile, which she had the foresight to put on, saved her from serious burn. And this was at the very beginning of the match, when the balls were not even released!

“Oh, my granny mama! What’s happening!” exclaimed a wonder-struck Bab-Yagun. “The gandharvas brought with them a true winged flamethrower! Likely, there remains not a single safe place in the field. Minutes have not yet passed since the beginning of the match and Tanya Grotter has already received an annoying burn! Seven-Stump-Holes has a melted pipe, and Kuzya Tuzikov was forced to resort to the aid of water-sprites in order to put out the flame on his jet broom! Now I understand why the gandharvas call their dragon Spitter! And I, a fool, even intended to look in the dictionary! But when are they finally releasing the balls? Does Sardanapal really want his team to become flying shashlik even before the match?”

On hearing the challenge of Bab-Yagun, the academician stopped contemplating his beard and waved his hand. “Where are the balls? Really it’s impossible to figure things out without me?” he shouted angrily.

Two genie-referees, looking askance with uneasiness at the hungry dragons, carried out the basket and, having pulled off the cover, rushed fleeing. Five magic balls of different weight and colour – flame-extinguisher, stun, pepper, sneeze, and immobilize – obeying the magic placed in them, soared into the sky and with the ballet grace of overfed bumblebees scattered along the entire field.

Simultaneously twenty players – ten from Tibidox and ten gandharvas – rushed to the balls, hurrying to seize the initiative from the first minutes of the match.

The dragons began to roar furiously and, whipping with their tails, advancing a smoke screen all around, ascended under the dome. Having served as “goals” in many matches, they had long since understood that the magic balls gave one trouble, especially when they appeared in one’s mouth. But to swallow a couple of the opposition’s forwards was an entirely different matter. The hungry dragons had nothing against this.