How to Slay a Dragon (27 page)

Greg spun and fled the other way, but a well-placed jet of fire had him sliding to a stop in that direction as well. He gaped up at the dragon, petrified, dreading to see what Ruuan would do next.

In a coordinated effort of contracting and expanding muscles, Ruuan rose to his full height. If the dragon had looked enormous before, now he seemed nearly as tall as the Infinite Spire itself. His underbelly glowed like polished gold, gradually melding into brilliant scales of blue that covered his back and sides. Under different circumstances Greg might have described him as beautiful, but at the moment all he could think about was the sound of crunching bones.

“WHY ARE YOU TRESPASSING INSIDE MY SPIRE?”

“Sorry.” Greg cleared his throat and tried to keep his knees from knocking. “I was, uh, just trying to stay warm. It’s quite chilly tonight. Have you been outside? Of course you have, that’s where we met.”

“SILENCE.”

Greg shut up instantly. His knees threatened to give out, but he somehow managed to remain standing under the dragon’s scrutinizing glare.

“DO NOT LIE TO ME.”

“No, of course not,” stammered Greg. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

“YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN.”

“Sorry, yes I am. I didn’t mean to, really.”

“OF COURSE, YOU DID. THOUGH I CAN’T SAY I BLAME YOU. YOU MUST BE TERRIBLY AFRAID YOU’RE ABOUT TO BE EATEN.”

“You mean I’m not?” Greg squeaked.

Ruuan lowered his head until his chin was just feet from Greg’s own. Greg cringed, trying not to breathe in the stench of the dragon’s breath. The smell caused him to relive the horrible trip up the spire, and while he wouldn’t have thought it possible, the memory of the trip felt even worse than the original experience.

“CERTAINLY I’M GOING TO EAT YOU,”
Ruuan told him.
“BUT DON’T WORRY, IT WON’T HURT.”

“It won’t?” Greg practically sobbed.

“NOT AT ALL. I’M GOING TO ROAST YOU FIRST.”
Ruuan’s face broke into a hideous grin that made Greg want to cry even more.
“OF COURSE, IT’S POSSIBLE YOU MAY FIND THAT PART A BIT UNPLEASANT.”

Greg knew the time had come to fight again, but how? He couldn’t fight a dragon. He didn’t even have the magic sword . . . or Nathan’s staff. Why hadn’t Nathan known this would happen? What was all that useless talk about finding his center? And about power coming from a position of peace? Then he remembered what else Nathan told him. He wouldn’t win this battle on his size or his battle skill.

“NOW, ARE YOU GOING TO TELL ME WHY YOU ARE HERE OR AREN’T YOU? NOT THAT IT MATTERS. YOU’RE EITHER A TREASURE HUNTER OR HERE TO PULL OFF SOME IMPOSSIBLE RESCUE. WHICH IS IT?”

“I-I came to rescue Princess Priscilla,” Greg admitted, realizing how ridiculous that must sound.

“A RESCUE, THEN. WELL, AT LEAST YOURS IS A NOBLE MISSION, IF THAT HELPS YOU FEEL BETTER ABOUT YOUR DEMISE.”

“B-but, you can’t kill me,” Greg pleaded. “You just can’t.”

“I MOST CERTAINLY CAN,”
Ruuan assured him.
“BUT JUST OUT OF CURIOSITY, WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I SHOULDN’T?”

Greg tried desperately to think of a reason. He supposed the dragon wouldn’t care that everyone expected him to start the seventh grade when he got back home. Then he had an idea.

“If I don’t return, others will come looking for me. I’m very popular in the kingdom.”

Ruuan grinned even wider.
“EXCELLENT. I WON’T NEED TO GO OUT TO HUNT.”

“But they’ll come in numbers,” Greg argued. He forced himself to straighten to his full height and tried to look like a hero. “And there’s one man in particular I know you won’t want to meet. Why, he’s defeated plenty of dragons far bigger and meaner than you.”

Ruuan’s grin disappeared in an instant. “
YOU KNOW A MURDERER OF MY KIND? I WOULD WELCOME SUCH A MEETING.”

Okay, intimidation wasn’t working. Greg avoided Ruuan’s penetrating stare and noticed again the huge mound of riches barely visible below the dragon’s tail. A second idea struck him. “If you let me go I could bring you treasure.”

“HMM,”
said the dragon.
“I DO LIKE TREASURE.”
Greg gazed up hopefully.
“BUT AS YOU CAN SEE I HAVE PLENTY.”

“You can never have enough treasure. Besides, I can give you special things. Things you can’t get anywhere else.”

“REALLY,”
Ruuan said skeptically.
“WHAT SORT OF THINGS?”

“How about a magic amulet? I’ll bet you don’t have one of those.”

The dragon’s expression shifted. If Greg hadn’t liked it before, he liked it even less now.
“WHAT AMULET? LET ME SEE IT.”

“Not so fast. There’s still the matter of the princess.”

“SHOW IT TO ME.”
Ruuan’s booming voice shook the walls as it bounced around the cavern.

Something sticky splattered across Greg’s face and burned his skin in spite of any protective magic. Heart racing, Greg groped for the amulet about his neck, slipped it over his head and held it out by the chain. His hand shook so badly the amulet must have looked like nothing more than a blur.

Ruuan squinted, trying to focus. Then the dragon’s brow creased, his pupils flashed a bright red, and he met Greg’s eye with a hateful glare.
“
THIEF!
HOW DARE YOU OFFER ME MY OWN AMULET IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR LIFE?”

In his panic Greg had forgotten that the Amulet of Ruuan once belonged to Ruuan himself.

“I—I—”

“SILENCE! WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?”

Greg held his tongue.

“WELL?”

“You told me to be silent,” Greg whimpered.

“DO NOT MOCK ME, MORTAL. WHERE DID YOU GET MY AMULET?”

“From the Witch Hazel,” Greg told him. “I didn’t think it was yours, I swear.”

“LIAR. YOU STOLE THIS FROM THE SPIRELINGS DIDN’T YOU? DIDN’T YOU?”

“No!” Greg shrieked. He fumbled for the loose amulet in his tunic and thrust it in front of Ruuan’s eye. “
This
is the amulet I stole from the spirelings.”

In his terror he didn’t realize his mistake at first. Ruuan’s pupil expanded to the size of a basketball. He inspected Greg’s second amulet with one eye, then pivoted his head around, causing Greg’s stomach to lurch, and inspected it again with the other. A puff of scalding steam erupted from nostrils the size of doorways. Greg pressed his back against the cave wall. In spite of the protective magic the dragon’s hateful glare burned into him.

“YOU WILL OF COURSE DIE FOR TAKING THE SPIRELINGS’ AMULET. BUT FIRST YOU WILL TELL ME HOW YOU CAME ABOUT THE OTHER.”

“I-I told you,” said Greg. “Witch Hazel gave it to me.”

The dragon offered him a scolding look.
“I KNOW THE WITCH. IT IS NOT LIKELY SHE GAVE YOU ANYTHING.”

“No, I swear. You’ve got to believe me.”

“AND WHY WOULD SHE DO SUCH A THING?”

“Uh . . . because I gave her two others like it?”

The dragon scowled.
“NOT A VERY SKILLED TRADER, ARE YOU?”

“But she was going to kill me if I didn’t,” Greg insisted.

“HMM. THAT SOUNDS MORE LIKE HAZEL. SO, TWO AMULETS FOR A SINGLE AMULET AND YOUR LIFE, THEN.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“STILL NOT MUCH OF A TRADE.”
Ruuan looked somewhat uncertain of himself.

Greg didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, but he did remember Ryder’s advice to him quite clearly:
The more you can keep Ruuan talking, the less he’ll be shooting flames at you.
“I had to trade with the witch. It was the only way I could get the things I needed to come here.”

“NORMALLY I WOULD NOT BELIEVE YOU, MORTAL, BUT I HAVE REASON TO QUESTION IF WHAT YOU SAY IS TRUE. SO TELL ME, WHERE DID A TINY BOY LIKE YOU GET TWO OTHER AMULETS LIKE THESE?”

“King Peter gave me one,” Greg said, “and the other belongs to Marvin Greatheart, the famous dragonsla—er—it belongs to Marvin Greatheart.”

“MARVIN GREATHEART?”
said Ruuan.
“THE SAME MARVIN GREATHEART WHO SCAMPERED THROUGH MY LAIR A MOMENT AGO?”

Greg cleared his throat. “That would be the one, yes.”

“HMMM.”
Ruuan appeared to debate the truth of Greg’s words.
“KING PETER MUST THINK VERY HIGHLY OF YOU IF HE GAVE YOU HIS AMULET.”

“He didn’t exactly give it to me,” said Greg. “I have to give it back.”

“OH. SO HE DID NOT KNOW YOU WERE COMING HERE WITH IT.”

“No—I mean, yes, he knew.”

The dragon frowned, an expression hard to miss on someone with a ten-foot wide mouth.
“AND WHY WOULD GREATHEART GIVE YOU
HIS
AMULET? HE IS ONE IN PARTICULAR I WOULD THINK WOULD NOT GIVE IT UP EASILY.”

“Well, he didn’t exactly give it to me either,” explained Greg. “His mom did.”

“GREATHEART’S OWN MOTHER GAVE AWAY HER SON’S MAGICAL AMULET? YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THIS?”

“It’s the truth, I swear. But
she
expects me to bring it back too.”

“DON’T TELL ME SHE ALSO KNEW YOU WERE COMING HERE?”

Greg stood trembling, his eyes diverted to the ground.

“WELL?”

“You told me not to tell you.”

The dragon scowled and blew another softer blast of steam.
“I MUST ADMIT YOU ARE A CONUNDRUM.”

Greg didn’t know what a conundrum was, but he hoped it was a good thing. But then he noticed the dragon’s frown had returned.

“WHY, PRAY TELL, WOULD BOTH KING PETER AND MRS. GREATHEART EXPECT A HAPLESS LAD LIKE YOURSELF TO RETURN FROM MY LAIR ALIVE?”

Greg gulped. Would Ruuan understand about a prophecy? Especially one that ended with his being slain by the tiny boy who stood before him?

“WELL?”
the dragon prompted.

“Because of a prophecy,” Greg ventured, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“A WHAT? SPEAK UP, BOY.”

“A prophecy,” Greg repeated, though try as he might, his voice was no stronger than before.

Ruuan’s jaw dropped open in obvious astonishment. The opening reminded Greg of the cave mouth he’d entered earlier of his own accord. What had he been thinking?

“DON’T TELL ME
YOU’RE
THE FAMOUS GREGHART?”

“You know about the prophecy?” Greg asked, amazed.

“OF COURSE. DRAGONS AND PROPHECIES HAVE ALWAYS BEEN INTIMATELY LINKED. YOU CAN”T HAVE ONE WITHOUT THE OTHER. WHAT I DON’T KNOW IS HOW SIMON SEZXQRTHM COULD HAVE WRITTEN ONE ABOUT YOU.”

Greg quickly explained how he believed the prophecy to be in error, how it was supposed to be about Marvin Greatheart, and how Ruuan’s lair was the last place in this world he wanted to be. Amazingly, the dragon adopted a pondering expression.

“HMMM. THIS IS QUITE DISTURBING.”

“Imagine how I feel,” Greg said.

“I WOULD NOT BE SO QUICK TO DISREGARD SIMON’S PROPHECY AS WRITTEN. WHILE IT MAY SEEM UNREASONABLE TO YOU—AND I CAN CERTAINLY SEE WHY IT MIGHT—THE SEZXQRTHMS HAVE NEVER BEEN WRONG IN THEIR PREDICTIONS BEFORE.”

“No, you can’t just dismiss a prophecy,” Greg was quick to agree. “Believe me I’ve tried.” This was the first time everyone’s unwavering belief was actually working in his favor, and he thought he better take advantage of the moment while he could. “You said dragons and prophecies are intimately linked, that you can’t have one without the other.”

“YES, SO?”

“So, if I fail to fulfill my destiny, people will stop believing in prophecies. And you know what that means.”

“THEY’LL STOP BELIEVING IN ME.”

“Worse. They’ll stop bothering to predict the future. Prophecies will no longer exist.

“
WHICH MEANS DRAGONS WILL NO LONGER EXIST,”
the dragon whispered, though even then his voice echoed throughout the chamber.
“I’LL DIE IF THE PROPHECY IS WRONG.”

“And you’ll die if it’s right,” Greg added in a whisper of his own that barely reached the dragon’s ear. He noted the look of sadness in Ruuan’s eye. “Sorry . . . I guess this isn’t working out so well for you, is it?”

“PERHAPS IT IS TIME,”
said Ruuan sadly.
“DRAGONS HAVE RULED MYRTH FOR MILLENIA, BUT NOW I AM THE LAST OF MY KIND, AND THE END OF AN ERA, AS WELL.”

“Then you’ll actually let me slay you?” Greg asked incredulously.

“GOODNESS, NO, BOY. AS WITH ANY RESPECTABLE DRAGON, WHEN I GO I INTEND TO TAKE AS MANY MORTALS WITH ME AS I CAN. NOW, WOULD YOU PREFER TO BE ROASTED, MAULED, OR EATEN?”

If ever there was a question that deserved to be rhetorical . . . “Are those my only choices?”

“UNLESS YOU CAN THINK OF ANOTHER DEATH YOU WOULD PREFER.”

Greg thought again about the plunge from the portals inside Ruuan’s storage locker. He shook away the image. “Why do I have to die at all? Or you, for that matter. Maybe there’s another answer.”

“I’M LISTENING.”

“What if we just told everyone you were dead?” said Greg.

The dragon frowned.
“IF I TOLD PEOPLE I WAS DEAD THEY WOULD PROBABLY SUSPECT SOMETHING WAS UP.”

“No, I mean, what if
I
told everyone you were dead?”

Ruuan paused to consider.
“NO,”
he finally said, “
IT WOULD NEVER WORK. AS SOON AS THEY THOUGHT I WAS DEAD, EVERY FORTUNE HUNTER ON MYRTH WOULD BE UP HERE ROOTING THROUGH MY THINGS.”

“No,” Greg said. “No one can climb the tunnel. It’s too far. And the secret passageway I came up is heavily guarded by the spirelings.”

“YOU MANAGED TO GET THROUGH IT.”

“Only because the entire spireling army is camped outside and lulled to sleep by shadowcats. How often is that going to happen?”

“HMMM,”
said Ruuan, flames licking out the corners of his mouth.
“THIS PROPHECY HAS WORKED OUT QUITE WELL FOR YOU SO FAR, HASN’T IT?”

Greg worked hard to clear his throat. “The point is, no one would have to know you were still alive.”

The dragon considered for a long moment.
“I DON’T KNOW,”
he eventually said.
“I WOULD NO LONGER BE ABLE TO GO OUT TO HUNT . . .”

Greg hadn’t thought about that. “How about if you waited until a really dark night, then slipped in and out without anyone seeing you? Once you’re clear of the spire, no one will know it’s you. I can’t speak for everyone on Myrth, but all dragons look pretty much the same to me.” Greg had never actually seen another dragon but was sure if he did, it, too, would look like something he should run from.