Jewels the tinker stepped back and smiled. He’d just finished putting the finishing touches on the last exhibit – a mixture of gears, pulleys, and water works that produced a perfect simulation of a water elemental – admittedly, one that handed out sweets.

He’d worked on this project for months. Now, he was one week away from opening. This would draw people from miles around – and certainly do good things for Britain’s finances. They’d come in their droves, he told himself – and go back home, excitedly talking about all they’d seen – the moongate slides, the talking pixie trees, the river of chocolate, and the swirling, dancing knights. Nothing could possibly go wrong, he told himself, as he sent a messenger pigeon bearing the good news in the direction of King Blackthorn’s balcony.

“Ahem” came a voice from behind him. A large, raspy voice.

“You appear to have renovated my summer home. Very kind of you, but I’m not terribly fond of chocolate. And WHAT have you done to my nice grey rocks?”

He turned, and found himself face-to-claw with a very large dragon. Hadn’t there been enough dragons around here lately? He thought the Black Watch had got rid of them all!

“Now see here, Mister Dragon, I bought this cavern all legal like, and it’s most certainly not yours.”

Those have to be some of the stupidest last words anyone could have come up with, but they were his.

The dragon spat out a tweed hat with a large feather on it, and ambled into the cave, knocking exhibits left and right as she went. “Mister Dragon! The indignity!” She huffed.