So possibly for the last time, Ant put on the headset and haptic gloves. When he switched on the game, it took longer than usual for the volcano world to emerge. When it did, he was all alone. All the different planets he and Pradahl had travelled to, all the adventures they’d had together … and now this. He’d always wondered what he’d do if Kismet came to an end, but now it could go on forever as far as he cared. Without his dragon by his side, he wasn’t interested.
A light appeared in the sky and elongated into a familiar figure. The Celestial Seamstress always made a new suit of armour for his avatar Tarn each time Pradahl shed her scaly skin, just before they flew to a new planet.
‘It is time for your new armour, Tarn,’ she said in her tinkling voice, which always made him think of the Good Witch from The Wizard of Oz.
‘No,’ said Tarn. ‘Pradahl is dead.’ Ant could feel real tears pricking his eyes.
She didn’t say anything. She floated in mid-air, smiling.
‘Don’t you get it? Pradahl is dead,’ said Tarn. ‘There’s no new armour, no new planets. That’s it.’
‘Tarn,’ said the Celestial Seamstress, ‘there are many paths to take us to where we want to be.’
Was the Celestial Seamstress giving him some kind of hint?
He looked around. He was standing at the edge of a swamp with bushes on either side. A series of caves had been carved into the side of an extinct volcano. There were no paths to be seen.
Then something caught his eye, a small, black, intensely shiny object lying under a bush to his right. He walked over and picked it up. It was a coalberry. For a moment, Tarn tried to work out why this was so strange. Then he realised.
The bush wasn’t a coalberry bush, but that wasn’t it. There were no coalberry bushes on planet Zoberne. They only grew on the planet Aneome. He remembered cursing the fact that Pradahl had just one left in her inventory. What was a coalberry doing on this planet? Was it some kind of clue?
Tarn scanned the area for anything similar. A little way off, he found a small bottle of whistlejuice potion. With mounting excitement, Tarn remembered finding a bottle like this on planet Volare, and stashing it in Pradahl’s inventory. He had never found a use for it: he had never needed Pradahl to emit an ear-piercing whistle.
A pulpa stone, a masterfang, wing extensions… Tarn carried on finding more and more items. They were leading him closer and closer to the caves. They were all items that could have been discarded from his dragon’s inventory. But why?
Outside the smallest cave opening, Tarn saw what he thought was a puddle of lava. It was strange to find lava at the bottom of an extinct volcano. As he got nearer the puddle, he realised that it wasn’t lava. It actually looked like … it actually was…
Tarn snatched up the fiery-red, scaly skin in wonder. He heard a small cough behind him. It was the Celestial Seamstress. He passed the skin over to her and, as usual, in a whirlwind blink of an eye, she transformed it into a suit of armour which, after a couple of spins, he found himself wearing.
Tarn looked around excitedly. He knew what had always happened next in the game…
From the cave, Pradahl emerged, blinking in the sunlight and wearing a delicate golden coat, so young and tender the scales weren’t even visible. As soon as she saw Tarn, she ran to him, blowing happy puffs of smoke, and butted him with her head. Tarn stroked her and hugged her, overjoyed.
He turned to the Celestial Seamstress, even though he could never normally talk with her like this. ‘How is this possible? I saw her not breathing.’
She smiled. ‘The lightning bolts left her in a state of shock, but that fiery skin and your dragon were both tougher than you realise. Retreating to Kismet Cosmos and the planet Zoberne, she used every last bit of strength to crawl to the cave to recover, her inventory of items falling from her as she went. She had shed her skin earlier than she would normally. You’re going to have to take very good care of her.’
‘I swear I’ll look after you, Pradahl,’ said Tarn. ‘You really are the greatest dragon in the cosmos.’
‘Before I go, I have a special gift for you,’ said the Celestial Seamstress. ‘Pradahl could easily get hurt until her coat thickens up. You need this.’ She held out her hand. In the palm lay a smouldering coal. ‘It is a stealth ember. Keep this in Pradahl’s inventory. If her life is in danger, activate it, but it can only be used once. This cannot, however, happen in Kismet Cosmos.’
This was really weird. The Celestial Seamstress seemed to know that Pradahl had left Kismet. But how could she know and why was she implying it could happen again?
‘What does the stealth ember do?’ asked Tarn. He thought he knew every item in Kismet Cosmos, but he had never heard of this one.
She gave a sad smile. ‘There is only one. Only activate it in the most extreme circumstances. You have not yet reached the end of the game, so I cannot tell you more than that.’
Tarn thanked the Celestial Seamstress for this amazing, strange and almost scary gift. He watched it disappear from her hand with a shimmer. The shining scale on Pradahl’s chest twinkled to show it had been stowed safely in her inventory.
‘Now Tarn, you have not finished on Zoberne,’ said the Celestial Seamstress. ‘Or rather, the planet has not yet finished with you. Your time here is nearing an end, but there are still a few surprises left.’
Did she mean his time on the ninety-ninth planet,
