Spyro Prime
World 2, Part 4

Dockets, Dives, and Dumps

Nehi'nihil

I watched quietly while Reena aligned the gear into the boat. The gear was the last thing on my mind, despite the fact it was the whole reason we went to Floating Atoll in the first place.

It had been six months since I was last at Floating Atoll, and three years since my last encounter with Hyksos. Maybe this time I wasn't the victim of his wrath, but he didn't ignore me either. He simply had more pressing issues — Namely, Spyro and Reena. But if I had gone without them to get the gear, I know he would have saved his wrath for me.

"Nehi?"

Now, on top of all my poor relations with Hyksos, there was the daunting task of keeping my client's ticket to freedom from being killed just before the trial. If I was going to prove that an alternate had fought instead of him, it wouldn't do any good for me to say 'I'm sorry, but he was sacrificed in a Sahkmetian power-boosting ritual last night. Will you still hear our case?'

"Nehi?!"

The disguise we had right now would not stop him, even if I had the paint scrubbed— The fact that he had named Spyro 'Warrior-beyond-his-years' proved my theory that he uses telepathy and mind-reading. A constant watch would have to be kept, as well as—

"NEHI'NIHIL!"

"For the love of— er . . . hello, Nola. I thought you were patrolling around the temple sector of Draco Reaches today." I calmed down once I realized it was just my brother. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm on skyport patrol for the rest of the day; I thought you could use it after this morning's incident." He grinned. "I'll be glad to help if you need me."

"Thanks for the offer." I smiled. "Have they found the crazy bastard yet?"

Nola bit his lip. "Well, we do have a few suspects in custody. Maybe you could ID one of them, although I doubt you noticed him in that crowd. Care to swing by the security offices and check through them?"

"Sounds safe enough. I'll be right back." I waved to the others, and then flittered with my brother over to the security desk. I walked in the doorway and promptly surrounded by three standard-size poodles— two were grayish and had little drug-squad jackets on, while the third had a seeing-eye harness. They were all leashed to the exposed pole inside. After a little sniff-search, they sat down at the pole again.

'Where'd you get the S.E.D. from?" I asked him.

"You'll see." He led me into the witness room, where a window of mirrored glass separated this room from the lineup room — I could see them, but not vice versa. I looked through the glass to see three faeries, one young dragon, and one Marian sitting in the room together. The faces were obscured by their green hooded cloaks, and four of them had their arms crossed, as far as I could tell. "Any of them look familiar?"

"Not a one. Haven't you been able to narrow it down any otherwise?"

"Well, these are the only ones we were able to find with green cloaks. The dragon was about to board a skyboat with the marian, which I find slightly suspicious in itself, and the two faeries in the corner were smoking fireweed— their aim under that kind of influence would be as bad as all get out."

I glanced over at the faerie sitting quietly on a stool. "And what about the last one?"

"Blind." Nola replied. "He was walking around with that seeing-eye poodle, for starters."

"So? Plenty of training schools bring seeing-eye dogs here for scenario testing."

Nola leaned over and pressed the intercom button. "Suspect 5, would you please lower your hood?"

The faerie complied and brought his hood down, revealing it to be concealed further by a black nenes headdress— straight from the hieroglyphs with its starched sides and green headband just above his eyes. The only things unusual about it were the colors and the fact a curtain of fabric covered his eyes. Nola looked at the mask. "See? Further proof he's blind, or at least blinded. His aim should have been absolutely horrible— all the noise . . . ."

"I'm still not convinced." I walked out of the room. "For some reason, I think it's the blind one. He's the only one who's not paired up with another character, unless you count the poodle. Besides, he looks slightly familiar."

Nola nodded, and leaned over to there intercom again. "Suspect 5, could you please remove your lift up your headdress's curtain for a moment?" We watched through the glass to make sure he complied, and then freaked. "Okay, that's enough. Thank you!"

"Okay, I did not need to see that . . . well, maybe I did. But the eye sockets stitched up like that . . . disgusting!" I cringed. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of any help."

"It's okay. At least you bothered to check in. Let me know if anything else turns up. You've a direct link, remember?"

I nodded, heading out the door. "I will. See you later, Nola." I walked back towards the boat, trying to think. There was definitely something about a black nenes and stitched eyes that made him familiar. But how? I had never seen anyone like that before . . .

Reena

"What crawled under YOUR skin?" I asked Nehi as she returned from the security office.

She shrugged, fumbling about with her wand. "I have a docket to exchange with Cairo at Grand Central— can we go there next?"

"A what?" Spyro Prime looked over at Nehi.

"Legal court stuff. Explains my defense strategy, my evidence, etc. Standard courtroom procedure."

I blinked. "Can't she actually prepare a counter defense, then?"

Nehi'nihil nodded. "That's the point. If it makes you feel any better, she has to reveal the same stuff to me so I can do likewise. Might even get a chance to try and negotiate with her to reduce the charges or drop them altogether. And don't give me that look!" She snapped at Spyro Prime for his raised eyebrow. "It couldn't hurt."

I shrugged. "If we have to, we will. We need the wing leather from there, anyway. Just let me align this little . . . there!" I grinned as the gear slipped into place. "Okay, we can go now."

We headed towards the Grand Central portal and flew in, appearing nearby the old palace museum and the surrounding city, all encompassed by a lake that stretched for at least a hundred wing lengths in any direction. The rocky coast and a thin band of densely packed forest were all that separated us from the city. I had only been there once before, and I could only hope I still remembered my way around.

"There it is, dragons— Grand Central. The ancient capital of the femarians before the settling, the unofficial capital of the Prisma Tors even to this day, and quite possibly the— HEY!" Nehi was shocked when Spyro Prime picked her up. "You only had to say I was being a windbag. . . ."

"This is easier." He sat her down on top of his head, letting her use his horns as back supports. "Just tell us where to go so you can get this docker thing over with."

"It's a 'docket'!" Nehi'nihil retorted. "Head in . . . okay, two blocks to the left . . .  turn right . . . head down the east tunnel — east is that way . . . just head down this road until I say otherwise."

I followed behind them, looking ahead. "The road makes a left turn at this intersection."

"Just keep going straight." She replied. "I know every nook and cranny in this city like I do my own wand." She tried to pull something out of her wand. "Blast it!"

"What?" I stopped, as did Spyro Prime.

Nehi jumped off and showed us dark, dull wand. ."My guess is that Hyksos fried the magic in my wand to almost nothing— even my inventory's locked up. I'll need to have it recalibrated while I'm here as well. No matter. The meeting place is that way." She walked to a small tiled garden with benches and sat down. "While I'm dealing with Cairo and getting my wand fixed, you two can explore around the city and find some wing leather for the skyboat. Be back in an hour, okay?"

We nodded and ran off like a pair of troublemakers towards the bazaar. Bright drapes over the stalls and street colored it in all shades of light, and the people walking about seemed more so. All sorts of goods were being peddled, but we paid no heed to them. Or at least Spyro Prime didn't.

He shook my shoulder roughly. "Where's the bathroom?"

"Didn't you go before we came here?"

"No!"

"Fine . . . I saw one back near the garden." Spyro ran back for the garden (more like hopped back, considering he had his legs crossed) and headed up a staircase marked with the little restroom glyph. 

I caught up to him after he stopped at a fork in the hall. "What is it?"

"Public rooms to the right, 25 gems; private rooms to the left, B.Y.O.P., 5 gems; Pot, 300 gems." He read the information poster on the wall. "What's with you people? Can't a guy just stand in front of a tree anymore?"

"Not in a city, Prima . . . I'm assuming from that remark you don't have a chamberpot?" I went up to the vendor. "You've collected plenty of gems so far— just buy one."

Spyro Prime walked up to the vendor, deposited his money, and a the machine hummed while it produced a chamberpot for him. He picked it up and absorbed it into his inventory. "So... what do I do with it?"

"Into the private rooms." I led him inside the private room, towards the stalls. "A Chamberpot is just as sweet of a weapon as your flame, assuming you know how to use it. You can chuck it across distances, you can use it as a weight, you can hit people on the head and knock them out with it, you can wear it like a helmet, you can collect rainwater, grain and other assorted items in it, and — if you want to be traditional— you can take a dump in it."

He put the pot down in one stall. "You know way too much about chamberpots."

"I should! During the Raid Before the Pause, I was separated from the temple, and it was the only item I had on me — no coat, no lightcard, no ball, just the chamberpot. That pot was the difference between life and death— okay, so I broke it by the fourth day, but I kept some of the big shards and used them like daggers."

"If you insist. Turn around, at least! You don't stare at somebody when they're squatting." He snapped, so I faced the opposite wall while he did his business. "So what am I supposed to do with it once I'm done?"

"After you dispose of the feces, you wipe the pot clean so that it's sanitary for something other than squatting over." I walked over to the pot after Spyro Prime stepped away. "Dispose of the feces however you feel appropriate." I leaned out the window to see if Nehi had met up with Cairo yet. Sure enough, the two of them were just below me.

" . . . I wasn't aware that they let Sahki women get jobs now." Cairo quipped with her, making small talk.

Nehi shrugged. "They don't; I ticked Hyksos off by joining a law firm in the first place. Part of the reason I don't live at the Atoll anymore. That and I got tired of my little cramped apartment up there."

I ducked my head back inside the building. "Here, I'll empty this for you right onto that sickly rosebush down there. It looks like it could use some fertilizer . . ." I grinned to Spyro Prime, and dumped the contents of the chamberpot out right over Cairo's head.

SPLASH-PLUP-PLUP!

"ACK! What IS this shit?!?!?!?" I giggled as I heard Cairo scream.

"It is shit!" Nehi'nihil replied back.

Cairo calmed down considerably. "Okay, so it's not just me." I heard a structure creak slightly, so I shut up. A few moments later, She looked inside the second story window, glaring. Spyro Prime had hidden behind a stall out of sight, but I was still there. "You dragons always have a problem being citybroken . . . . The disposal's on the wall to your left."

I blushed. "Thanks."

"I've had worse dumped on me. Just don't try it again." She climbed down the trellis along the wall, and I breathed a sigh of relief before going to wash the pot out. Spyro Primeran over to me.

"Why didn't she pummel you?"

"Not sure. Besides, any time I've dealt with her, I drew first blood." I finished washing the pot out. "Here, hold onto this. I have a feeling it'll come in handy."

Cairo

"Why don't we finish this conversation elsewhere . . . preferably in a spot where I can't have dung poured on my head." I asked Nehi'nihil as I began cleaning myself up. 

Nehi nodded as she looked at the stain on her blouse. "Certainly. And could you also clean this up on the way to the wandcrafter?"

I quickly dispelled whatever was left of the filth before sitting down on a bench that was a good distance away from the public bathrooms. "Wandcrafter? What's wrong with your old one?"

"It's locked up." She pulled out the thin stick, roughly nine inches long and made out of red oak. However, it looked quite dull and sooty for such a wand. "I think it needs a recalibration."

"Let me look at it; I know how to make a wand as well as anybody." I reached out for the wand. "If I didn't know I better, I'd say it was just a coating issueEEIIOW!" I let go of the wand quickly, holding my left wrist. The hand itself was already damaged severely, as the fleshy tips of my fingers and some of the palm quickly turned brittle and ashen. I tried to wiggle my fingers, and the pointer finger snapped off with a slight crack. I glared at Nehi. "Sahkmet . . . . What kind of trap were you trying to pull, girl?"

Nehi paled. "I didn't do this, I swear. . ." She then looked down at the ground again. "Honestly, I didn't even know it would do that . . . I just thought Hyksos had drained it of magic."

I snarled. "Far from draining it . . . he iconized it!" I winced as I tried to move the hand further. The middle finger cracked off this time. "Do you even have any idea what an icon is?"

She trembled. "From the looks of your hand, it's a weapon of mass destruction."

"It's a bit more complicated than that . . .   damn, that hand stings. I should really just get it over with . . ." I hissed, getting out my wand with my right hand. A gesture, a cast, and a few moments later, I had a stump for a wrist. I looked back to see Nehi pale. "Considering the tales about me up in the Atoll, you should know not to worry . . ." She calmed down considerably, but still with a look of disgust, as the skin grew and bulged in the right places to reform a healthy left hand, the fingers growing out last and the nails having an extra growth spurt to match the length on the other hand. " . . . Now, where was I?"

"How an icon's not only a weapon of mass destruction?" Nehi'nihil offered, picking up the wand herself and relieved that it didn't burn her.

"It is and it isn't. An icon is a religious artifact, plain and simple. Anyone with the right skill level of magic and the proper mumbo-jumbo can make it. You can iconize anything; wands, stones, fine jewelry, what have you." I reached into my own wand and pulled out a silver ankh. "Even I have one. Now, don't flinch when I do this."

"Do what? Hey!" She scooted down the bench when I pressed the ankh into her arm. Even after I told her not to, she flinched . . . and was quite relieved when I pulled it away and showed that no damage was done. She even sat up. "What did it do?"

"It calmed you down— and for sombody with that kind of blood pressure, you needed it. An icon is a very good thing, as long as it's set for your religion. If it isn't, then it'll burn you up like tinder, which is exactly what your wand did to me earlier. Since my icon did no damage, you're a Tahlaist. I apologize for my accusation earlier."

"That's fine, but how do I give you my docket for tomorrow's trial? It's in there, and I need you to have it." She held the wand out to me, and I jumped out of the bench to avoid it.

"Watch where you point that thing! Weren't you listening when I said that's a deadly weapon?" I hissed. "Your inventory didn't work because now the wand will only behave for a Sakhian. The only reason you didn't burn yourself was because you're wearing gloves— an icon needs skin contact." I sighed. "You want the inventory without needing magic, you can do it. Just hold the wand between your fists, palms down; stick your thumbs out and press them against the wand. Now turn your fists so that the wand begins to bend away from you, and—"

CRACK!

The wand snapped in half, wisps of smoke curling from the fracture. Nehi dropped it, and the wand hit the ground. It continued to smolder until it finally disappeared in a puff of green smoke. The only things left of it were the few court documents inside, as well as a planner. Nehi bent down to pick them up, relieved that they were not iconized like the wand. "Here's that docket I owe you . . . Thanks very much, and I will see you at the trial tomorrow."

I smiled nicely and waved goodbye as she walked away, and I blissfully studied the documents until something occurred to me: That wand, while unseemly, was a true icon. Tahlaist priests had not learned to make such items in over 2000 years, and I only knew of the one icon Sakhmet himself made after inventing his new religion/house of magic. I thought I'd destroyed him well before he would have a chance to pass on such information into the wrong hands, but that 'horse' of his had somehow learned to make an icon.

Hyksos was always a concern. Now he was a priority. 

Spyro

Once out of the bathrooms, we headed for the northern part of the town, finding a leathercrafter who happened to specialize in wings. We asked him if he could help us out.

The crafter shrugged. "You don't look like you need it, and I need the dragon here if he wants a leather fitting."

I blushed. "It's for a boat. T-scale. Have anything like that?"

"I'll need a few minutes to find it and reinforce the seams. Just let me duck into the back— you can wait right here." He grinned and went behind the curtain, while we stood there. Reena seemed to be more patient about it than I did.

"This is too easy." I looked over at her. "I went through hell at the Atoll just for a rotor, and all we have to do to get wingleather is stand here?"

"I don't mind it — especially after the atoll. I need another episode like that like I need a hole in the head."

I nodded, and then glanced behind her. "I think you're about to get that hole."

She blinked. "What?"

"Duck!"

She dropped to the ground, panting, as did I. "Where is he?"

"Where is who?" I grinned.

"The guy that you made . . . me . . . duck . . . you!"

SLAP!

I whimpered. "Okay, I deserved that one. I was referring to the guy at the parlor a few stores down that does piercing. To get that 'hole' in your head."

She tried to hold back from laughing, but still giggled a bit. "Why don't we go over there and see what the deal is. To pass the time while the leathercrafter finishes our order. Sound good?"

"Nothing better to do." I replied, and walked down there with her. The parlor windows was painted with what looked like a price list of services and items. " Dragon Spine Piercing, 25 gems  . . . nose piercing, 15 gems for faeries, 30 gems for dragons . . . wingleather tattoos, 50-500 gems, see sample chart . . .  faerie skin tattoos, 50-300 gems . . . shooting gallery, free? What's that?"

"Not sure." She smirked. "I'd like to get in a quick game. Come on!" She ran into the store, looking for an employee.

The employee standing next to an elevator booth nodded. "The gallery's on the roof. You hold onto the zip-car with one hand to keep from slipping, and use the other hand to shoot. The car swivels so that you shoot on both the right and the left. There's 30 targets to hit, and they're worth ten gems each. Hit all 30, and we give you either 600 gems in store credit or just 300 gems. Miss any, and we don't give you any gems, and you owe us 10 gems for every target you missed."

I gave Reena an uneasy look "I don't think this is a good gallery, Reena."

"I can do it." She grinned. With that, the employee led us up the elevator and to the rooftop, where a small lift hill was seated. The course went over many of the rooftops, sometimes darting right over the marketplace. Wooden targets were propped up on the sides of the track, although some were farther away than others.

The employee showed us the zip-cars, which looked more like a handle than a harness. "Don't slip out or else you could hurt yourself and your chances of winning— we have a few straps to help should you slip, but you're still likely to take a bruising if you need them. If you want, your friend can ride on the back car of this train to make sure everything's okay." He spoke. "By the way . . . do you have your own weapon?"

"Just this." Reena held up her lightcard.

"Okay. Good luck on the course— I'll be watching!" He started the lift hill in motion, then flittered along on his wings just behind us. we rode up the lift hill, hearing the chains clang as they ran into each other. A few moments later, we were out of the hill's grip and into the gallery.

A quick ballast of zaps followed as I saw her twist around on the zip-car to shoot down each target they had— she even turned around and hit some she missed before. I was surprised that she didn't even skip a beat when she saw that faraway target just before the turn. But she hit it, and she hit every other target too. A few minutes later, she stepped off the course, with a perfect lap and a little dizzyness.

The employee frowned at her. "Here's the 300 gems— we can't afford to have shooters like you on our gallery. Now go and get a job with the military or somethin'."

Reena smirked at him as she walked out the store with her extra wealth. "Cool, isn't it?"

"Very. Maybe the leathercrafter's done by now." We walked back to him, got the leather, paid him some of the money Reena earned, and headed back south to the park where Nehi'nihil was supposed to meet us.

She showed up a few minutes later, glancing  at the leather. "That should be excellent for the wing! There's an exit whirlwind this way. " We head back to the airport, and Reena shrugged off the dizziness on the way back.

We dashed back over to Moneybags's skyboat slid the leather over the wing skeleton, and then secured it into place. Reena grinned as she inspected the leather. "Fits perfectly! Snug and smooth, too."

Moneybags was still trying to finish up his book, but he put it aside for a moment. "So now all you need is the rudder?" He asked.

"That's all we need if we ever expect to get this boat to Upper Prisma." Reena responded. "There ought to be plenty for sale at the Cloud Market. Care to join me, Spyro?"

"You say that like it's even a question. Of course I'll go." I leaned up against the boat. "Besides, there's only so many times you can stare down Moneybags before it gets boring."