Temple of the Dragonslayer (11 page)

Even though all Nearra could see was grass and soil, she closed her eyes tight. She could sense Davyn curled up beside her, and she was grateful for his presence. She felt an urge to reach over and take his hand for further comfort, but she was not only afraid of how Davyn might react to this, she didn’t want to move and risk attracting Slean’s attention.

Go away, she thought. Please go away and leave us alone!

Several moments passed, and Nearra began to hope that Slean hadn’t spotted them and had flown away. But then Nearra was gripped by a sudden intense fear. It was all she could do to keep from leaping up, screaming in terror, and running back toward town. She understood what was happening to her. After all, she had experienced the same feeling yesterday.

Nearra knew that the fear she was feeling meant that Slean was coming closer, perhaps even preparing to attack, but she also knew that if they had any hope of surviving, they would
have to resist the dragonfear. Although all she wanted to do was lie curled up in a ball and shiver, Nearra forced herself to open her eyes and turn her head to look at Davyn. His jaw was clenched tight, and there was a determined look on his face as he struggled to fight the dragonfear, too.

“We need to do something,” Nearra whispered.

“I know,” Davyn replied through gritted teeth. “But what can we do against a dragon? If only Maddoc were here—”

It was Slean herself who offered a suggestion.

“Give me the girl and the rest of you can go free!”

D
avyn was the first to stand. “You can’t have Nearra!” he yelled. The sound of his words seemed to blunt the dragonfear—or perhaps it distracted Slean so that she wasn’t able to generate as much fear in them. Whichever the case, Nearra was able to move again, and she stood, as did the others.

Catriona drew her short sword and looked up at Slean’s scaled underbelly, searching for a vulnerable place to attack. Unfortunately, it didn’t look to Nearra as if the dragon had one. Maddoc had said that Slean was a young dragon, but even so, she looked more than capable of killing them all.

Davyn dropped his pack and began to string his bow. Neither Catriona’s sword nor Davyn’s arrows would be much use against a creature as powerful as Slean.

Then Nearra remembered her dagger. Catriona had insisted she visit a weaponsmith and buy a dagger just like the one the warrior carried in her own traveling pack. At the time, Nearra had felt it would be useless to her, since she could not recall ever having learned how to use a dagger.

A dagger would be even less effective against a dragon than a sword or a bow, but it was Nearra’s only weapon, so she slid off her pack and quickly removed it. It was foolish, but she felt
safer with the knife in her hand.

Nearra had no idea why Slean wanted her specifically—if only she could remember! She knew that she should step forward so the others would be safe. She shouldn’t let her friends risk their lives for her. But Catriona was right. She knew nothing of battle. And what could Nearra do against a fearsome dragon? The dagger in Nearra’s hand shook and Nearra realized she was trembling.

She turned to Elidor in the hope that he had drawn a weapon to protect her—but when she looked, she could find no sign of him. It was as if the elf had vanished.

Perhaps he’s planning some sort of sneak attack, she thought. Or perhaps he’s run off and abandoned us. If so, she supposed she couldn’t blame him. They’d hired Elidor to guide them to the Temple of the Holy Orders of the Stars—not to fight dragons for them. Still, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed. She’d almost begun to think of the elf as another friend.

Sindri raised his hands above his head and curled his fingers into mystic gestures. “Beware, dragon! I am the wizard Sindri Suncatcher, and if you do not depart at once, I shall visit a powerful enchantment upon you!”

Slean stopped circling and hovered twenty feet above them, flapping her wings to remain in place. The wind generated by her wings was strong enough to nearly knock the companions off their feet. The dragon fixed her reptilian gaze on Sindri. For an instant Nearra feared Slean intended to snap up the kender in her jaws and make a snack out of him. But then the great beast burst out laughing, filling the air with the acrid scent of her breath.

Nearra remembered something Maddoc had told her yesterday.

A green dragon such as Slean doesn’t breathe fire. Instead, she spews a cloud of deadly gas called chlorine.

The smell burned Nearra’s nasal passages and her throat. She coughed and tried not to gag. This was only the merest residue
of gas, breathed out when Slean was laughing. Nearra didn’t want to even imagine what a blast of full-strength chlorine gas would be like.

Slean looked down at Sindri, her mouth stretching into a hideous grin.

“A wizard, eh? You’re the smallest mage I’ve ever seen, wee one. Tell me, what sort of spells do kender cast? A curse of annoyance? A glamour of ridiculousness?” Slean laughed again, and wisps of yellow-green gas curled upward from the slits of her nostrils.

The usually good-natured kender scowled, but as he opened his mouth to reply, he was cut off by the sound of a battle cry echoing across the grassy field.

Nearra and her friends all looked westward in surprise. A minotaur came running toward them, battle-axe held high. It was Jax.

“What in the name of all the gods is he doing here?” Davyn said.

“What does it matter?” Catriona answered. She pointed her short sword at Slean. “We’ve got a bigger problem to worry about!”

Slean looked at the charging minotaur, then turned back toward Nearra. She narrowed her reptilian eyes. “You surprise me, girl. Not only have you managed to find yourself protectors, but one of them is a minotaur as well.”

Nearra wasn’t certain, but Slean seemed to turn her gaze to Davyn for a moment before rising higher into the air and flying off to meet the minotaur’s attack.

Nearra didn’t know whether the minotaur had originally intended to engage Slean in battle, but now the man-bull had no choice. Slean flew lower until she was skimming just above the grass. The minotaur didn’t slow his charge. If anything, he picked up speed.

Though Nearra had lost her memories, she doubted she’d ever witnessed such bravery before.

Then, just as Slean and the minotaur were about to collide, the dragon gave a powerful beat of her wings and arced skyward. The minotaur swung his axe in an attempt to strike a blow. But the dragon was too fast, and the man-bull’s swing missed as she flew out of reach.

Slean laughed as she ascended. Nearra realized the dragon was toying with them. Slean could destroy them all whenever she wished, but like a cat playing with a mouse, she wanted to have fun with her prey before killing them.

The minotaur bellowed in frustration, but he wasn’t about to give up. He drew back his axe, aimed, then hurled the weapon skyward. The battle-axe tumbled end over end through the air, flying faster and farther than any human could have thrown it.

Slean was still flying straight up. She didn’t see the axe coming. But she sure felt it when the sharp edge nicked her right wing. The tear was slight, but it was enough to make Slean let out of grunt of pain and dip to the side, her balance thrown. In seconds the dragon managed to right herself. She curved around and glared at the minotaur.

The battle-axe fell to the ground, slicing into the earth with a soft
chuk!
at least a dozen yards from where the minotaur stood. The man-bull began running toward his axe. He moved far more swiftly than Nearra expected for a creature of his size. But no matter how fast he ran, Nearra doubted the minotaur could retrieve his weapon before Slean reached him.

Nearra felt the first hints of tingling in her hands, but the sensation was muted, distant. Whatever strange power she possessed, she knew she would not be able to summon it before Slean killed the minotaur.

“Someone do something!” she shouted in frustration.

Catriona looked to Davyn. Davyn looked back, both unsure exactly what they could do to help.

“I know!” Sindri said. “I’ll levitate the axe into the minotaur’s hands!” The kender frowned in concentration and pointed toward the axe and began wiggling his fingers. At first nothing
happened, and Nearra feared that Sindri’s magic was going to fail him. But then the battle-axe pulled itself out of the ground and shot toward the minotaur. Jax caught it deftly in his outstretched hand.

Nearra clapped Sindri on the back. “You did it!”

The kender grinned so wide it seemed his face might split in two. “Nothing to it.”

Axe in hand once more, the minotaur was ready to meet Slean’s attack.

“We can’t let him face the dragon alone,” Catriona said, and sprinted through the grass toward the man-bull and Slean.

“Wait for me!” Sindri shouted, and took off running after Catriona.

“Idiots,” Davyn muttered as he wiped the sweat off his brow. He lifted his bow once more, drew an arrow from his quiver, and nocked it. He pulled back the string and squinted one eye shut as he aimed. He waited for a shot and released the string with a
twang!
The arrow flew straight and true. It struck Slean on her right hindquarter, lodging between two scales.

Slean roared, more in anger than pain. The dragon spun around. She attempted to reach the arrow with her front claws. But as she twisted, she lost her momentum and dropped out of the air like a very large, very green rock. When she hit the ground, the earth shuddered from the impact. Nearra felt the vibrations even through the thick soles of her new boots.

Catriona cheered. “Well shot, Davyn!” she called back over her shoulder as she ran toward Slean. Sindri just laughed, as if he’d found himself in the middle of the greatest game he could ever imagine: Battle the Dragon. Hands tingling almost to the point of pain, Nearra feared for both of them. She knew Davyn’s arrow, while proving an effective distraction, had done no serious harm to Slean. And Slean hadn’t fallen all that far. In a moment the dragon would forget all about the irritating pain in her rump and return to seeking their destruction.

No, Nearra thought.
My
destruction.

D
avyn’s skull throbbed as if an ogre were pounding on his head with a heavy rock. Davyn hoped Sindri wouldn’t attempt to cast any more “spells.” He didn’t know if he could take using his ring again so soon. If he used it more than three times in a single day, he got a skullsplitting headache. Sometimes he even passed out.

The ring allowed its wearer to move objects solely with the power of thought. Davyn had used it to fend off the minotaur yesterday, as well as the drunk in the tavern last night, allowing the others to believe that Sindri had saved them with his “magic.” He didn’t want to have to answer their questions about why a simple ranger should possess a magical ring.

But now that Sindri had a taste for telekinesis, there seemed no stopping his urge to cast “spells.” Davyn shouldn’t have continued to fuel Sindri’s delusion by levitating the minotaur’s axe. But he was beginning to feel caught in his own deception.

Using the ring a second time to guide his arrow toward Slean was foolish, he knew. He was a skilled archer, but he wasn’t capable of shooting an arrow that far, and he’d wanted to make the shot look good. After all, he was supposed to be trying to stop Slean. He’d been more surprised than anyone when the arrow not only hit the dragon, but actually penetrated her flesh.
The arrow wouldn’t really hurt her—for a creature her size, it would be like getting a splinter under the skin for a human. But Slean was a green dragon, and they were known for their vicious tempers. If she became too angry, she might well forget that she was supposed to be holding back—and if she began fighting in earnest, Davyn doubted any of them would survive.

Slean was on the ground now, using her teeth to try to pull out the arrow without snapping the shaft in two and leaving the arrowhead lodged in her rump. While the dragon was absorbed in this delicate task, the minotaur ran to attack her. Nearra stood far behind him, a dagger clutched in her hand. Davyn didn’t know if the man-bull was capable of hurting Slean. Minotaurs were rumored to be very strong. The battle-axe looked heavy and its blades looked sharp. But he knew Nearra had no chance of defending herself. Davyn had to do something.