Temple of the Dragonslayer (12 page)

Despite the pounding in his head, Davyn nocked an arrow, took aim—making sure that he wouldn’t hit Catriona, Sindri, or Nearra—and fired.

The arrow flew past Slean’s face, missing her by mere inches, exactly as Davyn had intended. Davyn knew green dragons preferred to avoid physical combat whenever possible. They were far too vain to want to risk getting injured. It was Davyn’s hope that Slean would take to the sky to avoid the minotaur’s blow, thus saving the man-bull’s life, as well as the lives of his foolish comrades.

The arrow’s movement caught the dragon’s attention. She ceased tugging on the shaft stuck in her hindquarter and looked up. The minotaur was only a few yards away and closing fast. She spread her wings—just as Davyn hoped—and prepared to launch herself skyward.

But before Slean could lift off the ground, Elidor stood up. He’d been hidden in the tall grass less than fifteen feet from Slean. The elf held a knife in each hand, and with swift, graceful motions, he hurled first the right knife, then the left.

The first blade struck Slean on the bony ridge of brow over
her left eye and bounced off without doing any harm. But the second knife hit the corner of her eye, where the tear duct would be on a human, and sank to the hilt.

Slean froze for an instant. Then blood gushed from her wounded eye and she roared in pain and fury.

“Uh-oh,” Davyn whispered.

Catriona and Sindri wisely stopped running toward Slean when she roared. But they stood their ground, waiting to see what the dragon would do next.

Slean turned toward Davyn and gave him an accusing look. She then returned to face the minotaur and opened her mouth wide. The dragon made a coughing-chuffing sound, and a cloud of yellow-green gas shot out of her mouth toward the minotaur.

With lightning-quick reflexes, the man-bull threw himself face-first onto the ground to prevent the deadly gas from getting into his eyes and lungs.

Slean then whirled toward Elidor, but the elf was no longer there. It was as if he had vanished. Slean wasn’t about to give up, though. She sprayed chlorine gas across the field where the elf had last stood, moving her head back and forth to cover as much ground as she could.

There was a breeze coming from the northwest, directly behind Slean, and the wind wafted the cloud of yellow-green gas toward Catriona, Sindri, and Nearra.

This is it! Davyn thought. If Nearra and the others inhaled the gas, then surely Nearra would—Nearra!

He glanced down at the silver ring on his right hand.

Davyn dropped his bow, clenched his ring hand into a fist, and struggled to concentrate past the throbbing pain in his head.

The cloud of chlorine gas came toward them. Maddoc had said the gas was deadly, and as fast as it was coming, there was no way they could escape.

The tingling in Nearra’s hands had increased to the point where it felt as if they were on fire.

But just before whatever was about to happen to Nearra could happen, Catriona’s sword flew out of her hand and floated in mid-air for a split second before beginning to spin, slowly at first, but then faster and faster until the sword became a steely-gray blur.

The tingling in her hands began to diminish, and the presence inside her—whatever it was—disappeared.

Nearra looked to Sindri. “Are you doing this?”

The kender frowned in puzzlement. “I’m … not sure.”

The sword continued spinning, creating a loud whirring sound. The blade whipped up a fierce wind that blew the chlorine gas away from the three companions and back toward Slean. The gas engulfed the dragon.

Slean roared, “Enough!” She began flapping her wings—further dissipating the chlorine gas—then leaped into flight, an arrow protruding from her backside and a dagger sticking out of her eye. She rose into the air, gaining altitude quickly, then circled once before heading northward. Within moments she was lost to view.

Catriona’s sword stopped spinning and dropped to the ground. Nearra looked to her two companions. Neither Sindri nor Catriona appeared to have been harmed. The spinning sword had successfully protected them all from the deadly gas.

The minotaur stood up, as did Elidor. Both the man-bull and the elf also escaped the chlorine’s ill effects.

Grinning in happy disbelief, Nearra turned to look back at Davyn and saw the ranger lying in the grass, unconscious.

High above the field, a black falcon paused for a moment before turning and flying off after the wounded dragon.

I
t took every ounce of will Slean had not to turn around and slay every one of the annoying little pests.

She wasn’t all that upset about the wounds she had suffered. The arrow in her rump was embarrassing, but not serious. And though the dagger wound hurt like blazes, the eye itself didn’t seem to be damaged. She could still see out of it. No, what made her insanely furious was the humiliation of it all. She could have easily destroyed those brats, but Maddoc’s oh-so-precious plan wouldn’t allow it.

Slean spotted a clearing on the banks of a small stream. Good. She could use the water to clean her wounds. She stopped flapping her wings and began to descend, gliding gracefully toward the ground.

She decided to go to work on the arrow first, since removing it would be less painful than extracting the dagger. She curved her long serpentine neck around and gripped the feathered shaft in her teeth.

Once she had finished tending to her injuries, perhaps she could forget about Maddoc and his idiotic plan. He was a powerful wizard, but not so powerful that he could compel her to obey him. Still, he had promised her payment for her services—a very
special payment which, if Maddoc could truly deliver it, would be worth any amount of pain and humiliation.

Slean managed to ease the arrow out and spat it onto the ground. Fresh blood welled forth from the wound, and she began to lick it clean.

Slean cherished freedom, as all dragons did, but unlike some others, she was obsessed with keeping hers. She was young as dragonkind reckoned age, and she had a long life ahead of her. She intended to remain free and enjoy it. When Maddoc had first approached her, the wizard told her that he knew of a way to ensure that she would never be forced to leave Krynn again, and he would tell her how she could accomplish this feat—
if
she served him well.

But if she were forced to endure much more humiliation at the hands of those brats, she’d kill them all—the girl included—and Maddoc and his precious plan could go to blazes.

Slean took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh accompanied by faint wisps of chlorine. She couldn’t put it off any longer. Time to get to work on the dagger.

This was going to hurt.

Slean reached her foreleg toward her wounded eye and clasped the dagger’s hilt between two claws. She gritted her teeth and then pulled.

The dragon’s roar of pain echoed through the forest, sending terrified birds and animals fleeing in all directions.

Nearra and her companions continued following the road north, with the minotaur behind them all the way. Since telling them his name was Jax, he’d not said another word, and they all walked along in silence. By noon, they decided to rest. They sat beneath large elm trees near a brook where they ate rations of dried beef and drank from their water skins.

Jax sat apart from the others, glaring at Sindri from time to
time. The companions watched him nervously. Finally, Elidor broke the silence.

“I’m sure everyone is wondering the same thing as I,” the elf said. “Why did you help us against the dragon?”

“Not that we’re ungrateful,” Nearra hurried to say.

“Just confused,” Catriona added.

Jax didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and began talking slowly. “After the humiliation I suffered at the tavern, I spent the rest of the day and evening searching for the kender throughout Tresvka. I questioned several tavern keepers and merchants who told me they had heard rumors that the kender wizard planned to travel south at the first opportunity. But I am a minotaur,” he said with pride, “and my people are by no means fools. When I asked where they’d heard the rumors from, the tavern keepers and merchants described two young humans—descriptions I recognized as two of the kender’s companions. The conclusion was obvious: the rumors had been planted to trick me.

“I decided to play a hunch. If the kender and his friends wanted me to believe he was heading south in the morning, then I would hide in the grass near the northern road and wait to see if they went that way instead. When I first spotted all of you, I was pleased that my hunch had proven correct. I had been about to stand up and go running toward the kender when the green dragon appeared in the sky. I experienced a touch of dragonfear, but I guess I was too far away to get a full dose of it. Besides, I am a minotaur warrior. We are trained to resist fear.

“I wasn’t certain what I should do next. I watched as the dragon glided downward, sunlight sparkling off its green scales as if they were highly polished emeralds. If the dragon attacked, I knew you would all most likely be killed. And while the kender might be a wizard of sorts, I doubted he had the power to stand against a dragon. If he had, he wouldn’t be hiding in the grass alongside the rest of you.”

Jax paused a moment before going on.

“I didn’t want to see the kender dead. I only wanted to restore my honor, and I could not see how lying hidden and letting the dragon slay my enemy would accomplish that. Then when I heard the dragon threaten the girl, I knew what I had to do. Honor would not permit me to hold back and watch while an innocent was threatened and there was a battle to be fought. I stood, drew my battle-axe, and charged toward the hovering dragon. The rest you know. I have to say that you all fought well against the dragon, even the kender. I did not think anyone but a minotaur was capable of such bravery.”

“You’d be surprised what ‘inferior beings’ such as ourselves can do when we have to,” Davyn said. He’d regained consciousness not long after Slean had fled, but he’d been in a terrible mood ever since.

“I did not say that you were inferior,” Jax said. “But you did pass out during the battle, did you not?”

Davyn got to his feet, wincing and touching his hand to his head. “So?”

Jax stood as well. “So either you were overcome by the dragon’s gaseous breath, or you succumbed to the fear she projected. Which was it?”

Davyn hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said. “Perhaps a little of both.”

Jax sniffed. “A true warrior does not know fear.”

Now it was Catriona’s turn to rise. “We
all
felt the dragonfear.” She shuddered at the mention of it. “But we fought on regardless.”

“I can’t believe I was lucky enough to see a dragon,” Sindri said.

“I can’t believe we were lucky enough to survive,” Catriona said. “I should have run faster. Perhaps I could have reached Slean in time to strike a blow before she released her gas. As it was, we all would have died if it hadn’t been for your magic, Sindri.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Catriona,” Sindri said. “After all, it was your sword which blew the gas away.”