Music credit: Sami Takieddin
“Help!” Fox screamed.
Ragul pressed his arm against Fox’s throat, lifting him onto his toes. Fox gagged. “I’ll cut out your tongue,” Ragul hissed as he dragged him inside the courtyard.
Lynx levelled his weapon. “You’re not taking him anywhere. Surrender, Ragul.”
Ragul flared his nostrils, eyes darting left and right. The night was becoming painted with the siren lights, lovely reds and blues catching the mad glint in his eye. He licked his lips.
The hairs on the back of Lynx’s neck rose as he shivered. Something slithered in the air, magic thickening like a scurrying mass as he watched Ragul’s tattoo slide over his skin. Lynx was about to shoot when Ragul shoved Fox into the line of fire.
“You’re not getting me twice,” Ragul said, using Fox as his shield.
The magical aura around Ragul was gathering, like steam undulating upwards, taking the ink with it. A creature emerged from the space above him, Ragul’s tattoo no longer upon his skin. Eyes red as molten fire, slitted with pits for pupils. It snapped its jaws, lips black as ebony curling into a wolf’s grin.
Lynx paled in horror. The rest of the body whipped out, horns, whiskers, and twisted sinew with copper scales. It ascended in a lashing gale.
A wingless dragon coiled in the air, glaring down its snout.
Bar sounds
Bartender: What can I get you tonight, sweetheart?
You: I'm not sure what I'm in the mood for. I hear you guys have the best magics in London. Show me what you've got.
Bartender: (laughs) Why, we have everything! Are you in the mood for walking like a penguin or seeing what it's like to sing like a siren?
You: What's the catch?
Bartender: You can sing beautifully, but you may end up, er... singing everything.
You: Don't you have something less eccentric?
Bartender: Where's the fun in that? Though I did hear of a laundry folding magic once. Someone with the ability to magic laundry away. Every old person's dream, or so you'd think. You don't get to choose where it gets magicked away to. Unfortunately that's not a magic we stock here---boss doesn't see the point. If I ever get hold of it, I'm making a beeline for my brother's house, that's all I'm saying.
You: (chuckles) What's he done to you? Who's your brother?
Bartender: Not important. Now, let's get you sorted out. Here's the menu. When you're done choosing, ask for me. I'll make sure to add a little garnish to make it extra special.
You: What's your name?
Bartender: Call me Fox.
A sample of the night's music at the bar...
Fox: There's a specialty cocktail you might like.
You: Oh?
Fox: I call it Fox's Chinese Gold Rush. Made it myself.
You: What's in it that makes it Chinese?
Fox: That would be telling. Maybe I'll let you in on my secret ingredient if you have a taste.
