“The young Grotter has good endurance!” Medusa Gorgonova, the docent of the department of evil spirits studies, said encouragingly, turning to Tararakh.
The pithecanthropus angrily shook his enormous hand overgrown with thick reddish hair to the fingers. “Yes, she’s a smart one. Plays simply brilliant! But someone must put the gandharvas in an inconvenient position! They will maim all of ours! See, he lashes directly at the eyes!” he shouted.
“How would you put them in an inconvenient position? It’s not even possible to call a penalty for this offence. Hitting with wings is not considered a rough play. Even Sardanapal can’t find fault with this – outwardly everything is according to the rules,” Medusa said despondently.
The gandharva trainer Kashavara glanced sideways at Gorgonova and complacently slapped himself on the stomach. It seemed he understood Russian perfectly, although he also preferred to pretend to be a fool.
Noticing that the immobilize ball had glided away in the air, Tanya swiftly swung about and rushed to head it off. She nearly succeeded in grabbing it, but here Grouser-Aga, swooping from above, struck her face with his wing. The girl blinked from surprise, saving her eyes, and when she opened them again, the gandharva already had the ball, hurrying with it to Goyaryn.
An indignant Tanya waved her bow and, having gathered height, dashed to ram Grouser-Aga with the double bass, but here the match was suddenly stopped by the chief umpire. Someone from the opposition, it seemed, Lakshaman, was clutching the hair of Damien Goryanov, trying to take the stun ball away from him.
“Again a penalty! Spitter unwillingly opens its mouth, and the gandharvas, sarcastically smirking, line up all around. It goes without saying, they again hope to catch the rebound!” Bab-Yagun chattered away.
Damien Goryanov forced the vacuum to buzz in the air, screwed up his right eye, swung widely and put all his strength into the throw…
The Tibidox trainer Nightingale O. Robber began to moan and held his head. The stands started to shout with laughter. Yes, you do not see that often!
“What a hit!” the lop-eared grandson of Yagge exclaimed to the entire stadium. “I have in mind that only our adorable Goryanov could throw such a curve ball! Spitter perplexedly begins to slam shut its mouth, understanding that indeed somehow a ball won’t exactly turn up in it. The stun projectile describes an arc in the air and – falls directly onto the nose of the gandharva forward Mamarama.
“TRA-TA-RA-TA-TA!
“The magic enclosed in the ball is freed and for a moment wraps the forward in a lilac cloud! Mamarama begins to giggle foolishly and, accompanying himself on the lute, briskly strikes up the Indian folk song In the field a tea bush was standing! Say what you want, but stun magic, on top of that at the dose for a dragon, – not some cup of coffee on an empty stomach!
“Joining their comrade in singing, Lakshaman and Jelly-Backbone carefully lead the cheered up Mamarama from the field. The gandharva clings to them and climbs to hug them. It’s clear he will not be playing in this match… Interesting, is this counted as a goal for us or not? After all, the throw was sufficiently effective, although the ball did not fall into the dragon… What? I can’t believe my eyes! Sardanapal has assigned a penalty to Tibidox! And now this is indeed an outrage! Indeed, it’s clear to everyone that Goryanov struck Mamarama not with any malicious intent, but only as a result of a congenital squint! And no need to look at me unfavourably, Damien, I speak the truth and only the truth!” Bab-Yagun shouted.
Lakshaman got ready to break through to Goyaryn for the penalty. He floated with the sneeze ball out to the eleven-metre boundary and began to wait for Goyaryn to open its mouth. When this happened, Lakshaman made a quick false movement, waited till the Tibidox dragon tried to dodge, and swiftly threw the ball. The mouth of Goyaryn had not yet slammed shut and the ball flew into it already. A violet flash flared up.
“Goal! The gandharvas get two points. Yielding to the action of magic, Goyaryn begins slowly to inflate as if it intends…” Bab-Yagun chattered on.
It was not necessary to explain anything. The magic mouthpiece was filled with a terrible rumble. It seemed even the massive rock tortoise Tibidox trembled. Whirling up sand, a sandstorm swept over the field.
“Oh, my granny mama! What an unbelievable sneeze! An instant ago something flew swiftly past me and cut into the magic dome separating the playing field from the spectator stands. Interesting, who is this picturesque pancake with feathers? Really, Lakshaman? Here it is – punishment for malicious joy! In Lakshaman’s place, I would not fly so close in order to admire the result of my throw!
“Several genie medical orderlies strive as cautiously as possible to peel the gandharva from the dome. I’m not mistaken if I say that he’ll need a prolonged rest in magic station. If the gandharvas were not immortal, the result would be even sadder,” informed Bab-Yagun.
The game continued.
The gandharvas were already deprived of a second player, but then they were leading in score. Seven-Stump-Holes and Rita On-The-Sly cut Grouser-Aga off from Goyaryn, but Grouser-Aga, deftly diving down, passed the immobilize ball to Jelly-Backbone. Tanya rushed after Backbone, at the same time having accidentally noticed that Ramapapa and half-back Lollifolly were not participating in the play but whispering something to their dragon. This seemed suspicious to her and she decided not to let the dragon out of her sight.
Spitter climbed in circles under the dome itself and, stretching its leathery wings, began to pull in air, fanning to an incredible size in front of the eyes. The majority of the Tibidox team, involved in the fight for the remaining balls, did not notice this strange manoeuvre. Tanya yelled, trying to warn at least someone, but her voice was carried away by the wind. And a second later the Indian dragon began to belch out short jets of flame. These were not even jets but powerful and well-aimed fiery spittle. One of them almost licked the polish of her double bass, but Tanya was able to dodge. But then the others were much less lucky.
“Did you see this mean surprise attack? Without warning, without any declaration of flame-throwing!” Bab-Yagun got roused. “Coffinia Cryptova gets a serious burn on her leg. Even vampire bile did not help. The tank of her vacuum is punched through and mermaid scale and barabashka dandruff are thrown out with the fumes. It’s not known how long the Swine-Sportage will be able to hold out without refuelling.
“Even worse is the situation with Kuzya Tuzikov. His jet broom blazes, but Kuzya heroically rejects using the shawl-parachute. Courageous Tuzik-Kuzik – pth… Kuzik-Tuzik… pth again… excuse me, Puzik-Kuzik… I am confused from indignation… hopes to put out the fire with a counter air stream. It’s useless! The flame only burns with air. Tuzikov already rolls off the broom to the ground and is lying on the sand face down. The medical orderlies rush to him, but Kuzya gets up by himself. It seems he succeeded in uttering the accelerated braking spell Bangus parachutis forte. Hey, hey, why is my vacuum braking! I didn’t intend to release a spark! I only reproduced how it sounds!”
Fiery spittle, only very recently threading thick and fast the entire dragonball field of Tibidox, finally stopped. The Indian dragon itself blew them away. Falling, it was gathering strength for new flame throwing.
Making use of this, Zhora Zhikin and Rita On-The-Sly attempted to fight their way to Spitter with the five-point pepper ball. Zhikin on his high-speed mop easily went around two gandharva defences and began to swing around not very confidently, getting away from a strike by the dragon’s tail.
Tanya, protecting Zhikin from above, suddenly focused attention on Grouse-Aga, who had stopped in the air all of a sudden and, smirking, began to strum on his lute. The propeller on Zhora’s mop started to work with interruption, and then it suddenly died. It happened that it had also faded before, but not so suddenly. Zhikin perplexedly waved his hands and began to fall. Tanya rushed but Rita On-The-Sly beat her to him, and Zhora, hanging by the shawl-parachute, passed her the pepper ball.
Without reducing speed, On-The-Sly chased with the guitar with trailer to head off Spitter. The mouth of the Indian dragon was tightly closed, and Rita began to drift tantalizingly before its nose, provoking Spitter to flame throwing. It was a risk, but a risk justified. Nevertheless, no other possibility to throw the ball existed.
Considering that its tail could not reach such a fast target, Spitter threw open its mouth and began to angrily pull in air. Its small eyes calculated the distance to its mark, and meanwhile, it seemed, the dragon weighed which he loved more: shashlik grilled or beef steak with blood.
“Come on, Rita, come on! Show them where dragons spend the night!” Bab-Yagun recklessly howled, staring at them.
The stands began to rage. The gandharva-fans flapped their wings and produced a deafening hubbub like hundreds of quarrelsome seagulls. Vanka Valyalkin, barely chewing, hurriedly swallowed the cutlets and pickles provided by his magic tablecloth. Vanka always ate when he was upset and now he was simply monstrously upset.
“And what’s this! Why doesn’t she throw! Throw!” A reckless Tararakh jumped up and down on the spot and shook his pood-sized fists, which did not greatly please the hissing snakes, into which the hair of Medusa had transformed without being noticed by the mistress.
Nightingale O. Robber and the gandharva trainer Kashavara shouted something to the players of their own team, but their voices were lost in the general rumble. Then, losing patience, Nightingale whistled with two fingers like a robber. Along the field rushed a sandstorm in the shape of a snake. One of the genie-referees, playing up to the gandharvas, was literally swept away and was found only many days later – gone crazy and deaf in one ear.
Even the stern dean of Tibidox Slander Slanderych, and that one clearly not aware what he was doing, clutched his mermaid by the tail, which the mermaid had the foresight to leave out of the barrel, and started to fan himself with it. The mermaid began to giggle and playfully splashed him with water. Dentistikha, with disgust, straightened her glasses and moved away: she felt sick from the smell of a damp fish. “What impudence! Since when do they allow evil spirits at matches?” she grumbled in an undertone.
Having dodged the fiery jet, Rita On-The-Sly swung for a certain throw. Unexpectedly from below, from under the dragon belly, Lollifolly emerged and deftly pulled the ball out of her hands. The guitar with trailer started to twirl with the airflow from his wing. She lost control of the guitar and – turned up in Spitter’s mouth.
“I’m going to fall from the vacuum!” Bab-Yagun began to moan. “The Tibidox team is deprived of another player! Escaping from the dragon’s teeth and the flame, On-The-Sly dives like a swallow into the dragon’s throat. I don’t think that it’s too comfortable in Spitter’s stomach, but it’s not necessary to haul her out… Hey, which donkey let the cupids out onto the field? Remove these nitwits immediately or at least put suspenders on them! Which way are the dragon handlers looking at altogether, I’m furious! They’ll be gorged!”
The genie dragon handlers and both referees, fussing and interfering with each other, dashed to catch the cupids, slipping through a slot into the magic dome. To catch them all proved to be an extremely complex matter. The winged boys, and there were about two dozens of them, scattered in different directions, giggling and releasing gold arrows at random. One even managed to hit a dragon handler by the finger, and another almost became Spitter’s dinner, but just in time pricked its double tongue with an arrow and slipped away.
A crafty Jelly-Backbone slyly threw the flame-extinguisher ball at Goyaryn, but in his haste, he missed. He did not succeed in picking up the ball a second time: it was necessary to escape from the red-hot jet of flame, which the Tibidox dragon breathed out. True, the flame of Goyaryn was not as long-range as those of the competing “goal,” but then the jet of fire shot from its mouth would burn anything to ashes straightaway.
The bounced flame-extinguisher ball was intercepted by Katya Lotkova, who, getting away from Ramapapa, made a pass to Tanya.
“A critical moment!” Bab-Yagun yelled. “Having gotten the flame-extinguisher ball, Tatiana Grotter, number ten, loops around, taking off from Jelly-Backbone and Ramapapa! She tries to force her way to Spitter, but the gandharva defence cuts her off from the dragon. Tanya decides not to gain altitude because of the short jets of fire, which the Indian dragon pours on her from above the heads of the defence. Instead, Tanya is fixed on the nearest gandharva half-back Lollifolly. Really an attempt at ramming? The gandharva is likely also considering it because he turns over on his back and puts his claws out in front. You mustn’t, Tanya, this is folly!
“Surprisingly, she did not intend to ram! Not quite a metre away from Lollifolly, Grotter sharply leans forward and, directing the bow downward, dives under the dragon’s belly. Lollifolly, recollecting suddenly, and Ramapapa, arriving to his aid, rush after Tanya in order to prevent her from entering the dead zone. Brilliant manoeuvre! Well done, young Grotter!
“Strange, I don’t understand what Jelly-Backbone is doing! He for some reason has lost all interest in Tanya and begins to strum on his lute. Indeed, he found the time! Perhaps he should also be given a little scoop in order to play in the warm sand on the shore?
“NO! DID YOU SEE THAT?
“What is happening? Why does Grotter’s double bass begin to knock about and twirl on the spot like some nutty cello? Tanya is hardly managing to keep it in place. One of two things: either the airflow from the dragon’s wing turned it, or dark magic has again come into play, like in the match with the babai! Perhaps my friend Vanka Valyalkin is right when he maintains that the higher a team is ranked in the world, the dirtier its game. And now, if you do not object, I will stop chattering for a while and play a little. Possibly, our trainer Nightingale O. Robber is precisely hinting at this, for some reason he has been persistently showing me his pumpkin-shaped fist for five minutes already.”
Bab-Yagun deftly caught the pipe of his vacuum, stepped on the gas, letting out a small scattering of mermaid scales from the wide carpet nozzle, and swiftly raced to Jelly-Backbone. The cheating gandharva noticed the danger too late. He folded up his wings and was thrown downward, having stopped strumming on the lute. Tanya could finally level the double bass and, evading the sharp teeth on the back of the Indian dragon, made the pass to Bab-Yagun.
Gaining altitude, she saw how Yagun rushed past on the vacuum cleaner quite close to Ramapapa, who began to twirl with the storm released from the pipe, as Yagun made his way to the dragon. Spitter breathed out flame, but Yagun skilfully passed over it, the way they had mastered in training. The right hand of the playing commentator tossed up for the throw, but suddenly the Indian dragon rushed forward. Not having time to reduce speed, Yagun disappeared into its mouth, but also not letting go of the flame-extinguisher ball. And after an instant a bright flash and the inoffensive puff of smoke coming out of the dragon’s throat let it be known that the magic had successfully snapped into action.