Um, I haven't got any critiquing questions this time. Just tell me what you really think. I can bear it! *braces self* Have fun!

Chapter 3

Penelope opened the door and saw the short, portly Erik, who was shifting from foot to foot and rubbing his greying hair. Penelope's smile didn't reach her eyes when she saw him.

"Hey, Erik."

"Um...hi, Penelope." His voice shook slightly and he cleared his throat. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, you want to come in?"

"Nah, I'll just wait in the car." Erik gestured to the sleek, silver car that gleamed in the diminishing light.

Penelope nodded and shut the door. She slipped her feet back into the flip-flops, still damp from her morning walk, and buttoned her trench coat. She walked into the kitchen and her mother looked up from the counter.

"I heard Erik's voice..." Ann's voice wobbled and she smiled through her tears.

Penelope noted for the first time how tired her mother looked. Even though Ann's hair had no grey in it, there were lines around her eyes that hadn't come from laughter.

"Tell dad and everybody that I love them and I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye," Penelope said.

Her mother nodded and handed her a big bag of warm cookies. "Here you go, darling. I'll always love you, no matter where you go or what you do. Keep warm."

Penelope laughed shakily at this last caution, took the cookies and went to the door. She slung her backpack up over her shoulder and took a deep breath. Then, without a backward glance, she bounded down the steps, vaulted the small white picket fence that surrounded her farmhouse-style home, and got into the silver car that awaited her.

The ride over was rather silent, and she could tell that the stout policeman was uncomfortable. He obviously just couldn't figure out what to say to a woman who was going possibly to her death. She in turn couldn't think of anything to say that would relax him, as she wasn't exactly comfortable with the situation herself. Penelope amused herself by watching the lights of the city, shining brightly through the gathering darkness and trying to ignore the thought that they could be an army of dragons coming to burn down the city.

Finally they reached the bottom of the space needle. There were five police cars, some TV reporters and a helicopter stationed in the wide parking lot. Penelope ignored them all, listening only to the sound of her flip-flops whapping against her heels and she walked forward, clutching her bag to her chest.

Tara came forward to greet her, stilted up on her black high heels, bleached blond hair scraped back in a no-nonsense pony tail, and long red nails tapping her clipboard in impatience. She would have been a pretty woman except for her piercing, serious gaze stating that all observations about her appearance were completely irrelevant when there was work to be done.

"Good, Penelope, you're here. Don't say anything to the reporters, just come into the van with me."

Penelope followed the tall woman into the back of a black van with tinted windows, where she was outfitted with tiny microphones and cameras hidden in pieces of jewelry. Penelope put on the silver hoop earrings with a look of distaste.

"I hate flashy jewelry," she complained when they pinned a large brooch onto her ragged coat collar.

"Too bad. This isn't like the movies, Miss Eros. We can't have little invisible patches that record our information. This is the smallest it gets as far as cameras go, and those earrings are revolutionary in the microphone department." Tara's feet were tapping impatiently.

The man who had been outfitting Penelope looked at her and rolled his eyes. "Relax, Tara, we have until midnight."

"Just give her the weapons," Tara snapped.

The man lugged a big metal box out of the backseat and opened it. Rows of knives in flat sheaths were lined up inside. The man pulled out three of the throwing knives and from a lower compartment, one handgun. He looked approvingly at Penelope's baggy pants and bent down to buckle the weapons to her legs underneath her pants.

She sat stiff and uncomfortable, eyes darting down to her legs every once in awhile.

"What's wrong, Penelope?" Tara asked, noticing her wariness.

"I have haphephobia...fear of being touched," Penelope explained. She relaxed as the man moved away from her again.

"Do you have any familiarity with weapons at all?"

"I took a safety course once and learned to use a handgun, and my dad always liked throwing knives and archery, so yes," Penelope answered.

"Good. Let's go." Tara opened the door of the van and was immediately met by pushy photographers and flashing lights. Penelope flipped up the wide collar of her coat to partially obscure her face, but Tara shook her head.

"Don't flip up your collar, we can't see if the camera is obscured."

Penelope remembered the elaborate brooch-camera and sighed. Stepping out of the van, she gave a weak half-smile at the cameras before hurrying to the helicopter, which had already started its engine. She ducked low against the wind generated by the whirling helicopter blades, and was helped into the seat by Tara. The two women shook hands and Tara stepped well back, nodding to the pilot. They lifted jerkily from the ground and began their slow ascent. Penelope watched the sides of the space needle pass by. As they neared the top, she could see the restaurant, which was dark and deserted. Usually it was bustling with waiters and wealthy people enjoying the city lights.

They finally reached the roof of the restaurant and the tall spike that marked the very top of the needle. Penelope noticed that it looked a lot thicker up close. The pilot got as close as he could to the surface and then nodded to Penelope. She took a deep breath and stepped out. There was no real danger, as the roof was not at all slippery, flat and plenty wide, but she got as low as she could immediately because of the damp wind blowing across her skin. She shuffled her way up to the spiky tip of the needle itself and wrapped her arms as far around it as they would go. She heard the helicopter leave behind her but didn't turn to wave goodbye. She just held on as hard as she could and, for the first time that day, let tears mix with the light droplets of mist that began to fall on her cold, white face.

Then she saw it. The bright spot of fire flying towards her, a different kind of light than the bright electric lights dotting the dark Seattle landscape. She shut her eyes for what seemed like a long time, waiting until she could feel the intense heat of the dragon's flame before opening them again. She caught her breath at the closeness of the enormous teeth and large, fierce eyes. She flinched away as one claw reached forward, but there was no place for her to hide. She braced herself to for pain to sear through her clothing, but was surprised when there was only a pleasant warmth. She looked down and saw the claw circling her waste wasn't glowing red, as the rest of its body was. Instead it had diminished in size and heat, and was actually rather spongy and comfortable.

"Good thing I'm not scared of heights," Penelope mumbled as they began their flight. Still, the dragon's flight wasn't as smooth as an airplane ride, so she shut her eyes and tried to think about other things. She was partly successful, and it really didn't seem that long before the dragon began to angle downwards. They had gone an amazingly far ways, and when Penelope opened her eyes again, the only light that appeared in her vision was that of the massive body above her. No lone farmhouses, no cities in sight. The air had grown colder, and they appeared to have arrived at some sort of massive cave entrance. There was a slight yellow glow coming from the inside. Penelope could only faintly see the landscape in the dragon's glow, and it looked rocky and mountainous.

The dragon set her down on the dusty, chilled ground, then took off and disappeared behind a dark ridge. Penelope could see the glow from its body for a few seconds, then the scenery disappeared and there was only the huge cave. She took a tentative step forward and looked around. A few yards into the cave, a full-length mirror leaned against the rocky wall. Next to it was a basin of water and a yellow sponge. Penelope stepped forward, avoiding the weeds growing out of the cave floor, and keeping a weather eye out for traps. Going over to the mirror, she saw a piece of bard stuck to the cave wall. In the dim light she could barely make out what it said.

"Ready yourself...fear? Oh, for...for an appearance before...the geal? What the heck is a...oh, great. The great master. Ready yourself for an appearance before the great master." Penelope snorted. "A little egotistical, isn't he? The great master, indeed. Oh, well."

Setting her backpack down, she looked into the mirror, despairing at what she saw there. There wasn't much she could do. She took off the ragged coat after unpinning the camera brooch. She straightened her long tunic blouse, smoothing out some of the wrinkles. Drawing back her shoulders, she stood up straight and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was a little too round for true beauty, and one of her eyebrows crooked up in an awkward way that always made her look a little cynical. There was a little chip in her front tooth when she smiled, but her milk-chocolate eyes sparkled so wickedly and openly that usually nobody noticed.

Because of her face's natural coloring, and she had never needed to use any kind of makeup, though sometimes she did dot a little coverup over the small mole on her right cheek. Her dark brown hair was a little frizzy on top, and tended to be unmanageable because it was so thick and wavy, but now it was pulled back in a long braid that reached well below her waist, and that worked pretty well. Penelope splashed a little water on the top of her head to tame some of the frizz, then shook her head. She had never been a beauty, and never would be. She would just hope that 'the great master' was satisfied with who she was and wouldn't set the dragon on Seattle just for the hell of it. She re-pinned the brooch onto her blouse, stuffed her trench coat into her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

Glancing around the cave, she wondered where to go next. She spotted the golden glow that had been shedding the dim light over the large, open cave mouth. It was coming from a small opening in the rock at the back of the cave. She went towards it and, turning sideways, was barely able to squeeze through. She followed the narrow tunnel until it turned abruptly. Going through another crack, the light brightened abruptly and Penelope stopped, blinking. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to her new surroundings. She seemed to be in a place that was furnished rather like someone's cozy living room.

A long orange couch stood at the end of the room, and two cushioned chairs sat facing each other on either side of a large fireplace. A merry fire was crackling in the fireplace, and a chandelier hung from the ceiling, throwing a pleasant glow over the whole room. The walls were covered with tapestries and hangings, and a wooden door was set in the opposite side of the room. Penelope found herself relaxing in the comfortable atmosphere. She set her bag on the ground and looked around, wondering what she'd gotten herself into.