hear her. She lifted her sword, “I have sworn never to betray my heart, never to betray my protector! I swear never to be false to my own soul, or may my soul fall to Chaos forever.”
“Tell me,” he begged.
“I would have broken that vow for you, Conraydin!” she sobbed, throwing her weapon away, “For you, I would have broken my word. But I fled back to my home to kneel at the stone feet of the Creater, at the dark feet of the Creater, to beg Its forgiveness and to entice a dream to free me from love of you.” Evangel pressed her lips to his ear. “Do you know what I dreamt, my love? I saw our children with your face and my eyes. ”
Conraydin felt intense joy, but then he felt himself disconnect from his body. He could still hear and see her, but he could not move. If only he could tell her how much he loved her, tell her what she had meant to him.
His cheek fell against hers, and she looked up at his stillness, shook him gently.
“Conraydin!” she called, throwing her body onto his. “You should have let me die that day!”
No, he thought, not even at the threshold of death did he regret that. He wished he could say so, but there was no time, no more time. He had wasted it all on anger and foolishness.
Evangel held him, rocked him. Slowly, she let him go. “No. Don’t leave me. Not yet. Just a little longer,” he thought. And she returned with her sword in her hand. It pulsed in the dark.
“You know that I no longer care for my own life,” she said to the sword, glowing in time with her heart, expanding and contracting with her soul. “All that was the best of it will pass away with this man, for I love him more than myself. I will you, my soul, to go to Conraydin and heal him, take my life and heal him. Of my own free will I damn us both to Chaos. It will be better there, by my mind, than living in this world without him.”
No! Conraydin, tried to move, to speak. No! Evangel laid down the weapon over his chest. Conraydin’s eyes widened for an instant, and his voice raised with Evangel’s in a night-shattering scream.
Conraydin woke thirsty. His lips were parched and his chest burned in torment, but he was alive. He sat up, staring at his arms; they were clean, all the redness gone. He panned his hands over his face, feeling the reality of his own life. His eyes marveled at the sunlight, circles within circles of sun filled with smells and insects. Then he remembered Evangel and her sacrifice. She was lying on her back a few yards away, her hair thrown over her head like the tail of a comet.
“Evangel!”
He crawled toward her, felt pain rock his chest. He collapsed to the ground, his jaw working in the dirt. He rolled over, looked down at his skin. There was a hideous scar on his chest were the sword had touched him. He closed his shirt to protect the ravaged flesh, continued the excruciating crawl toward her.
“Evangel,” he called. He reached her feet. She didn’t stir, so he pulled her to him. “Evangel!”
She gasped, once, twice, woke and stared at him, in shock.
“You’re alive!” He grabbed her, held her, but she cowered in his embrace. “You”re alive!”
“I should be dead,” she whispered.
Then he saw her weapon, crusted and rippled with white ash, “What happened?”
“I used its power, my power to save your life. I broke my vow. I should be dead. I am the most detestable thing on this earth.”
He held her even harder.
“No!” She pulled from him. “You must leave me! Go home, there is no place where I’ll be safe from my sisters.”
“We’ll get the talisman. We’ll be rich.” He kissed her eyes, her cheeks. It was gone! Finally, the accursed blade was gone! “We will be safe. The wizard will give me my heart’s desire. . .”
“Forget the talisman!” she shouted. “It’s guarded by a dragon, and only my sword could have withstood his flame. That is the test to prove we were truly sent by the wizard. We cannot pass the test! We cannot get the gold! My life is forfeit. You must leave!”
“I must have the talisman,” he said. “If I don’t, I will be a prisoner in that tower for all eternity without you. And that is worse than death by plague!”
They sat together in silence, beneath the cormant trees, listening to the wind rustle through the black branches and pink leaves. Tulerene flew like great triangles in the bare patches of sky, calling as they beat their wings against their razor thin bodies, whistling their mates home to them.
Evangel started to laugh, frightening both man and beast.
“We are trapped like fools,” she gasped.
“No, we will live or die by dragon’s fire,” Conraydin murmured, rising unsteadily to his feet, “like heroes.”
Conraydin and Evangel walked side by side to the dragon’s den. Drowned were the gentle scents of the forest. Here only the smell of decay and disease dwelt, like a thousand stagnant pools. Conraydin held his breath against the twisted air, pressed his body flat to the hot rocks and peered into the cave. There in its deepest recesses, wedged against the spiked jaws of the ceiling, coiled a huge brown beast with a neck like a drawbridge, a body sleek like moonrise water, and talons the size of a man. This was Mammon, the wizard’s friend.
Its forked tongue slipped out over the glittering rocks before it devoured them. The sound of the dragon’s chewing was like that of a millstone grinding wheat. It shuffled away suddenly, making circles around the cave, finally squatting, and with a sigh it let out piles of molten gold from its bowels. Then dragon went back to its nest and laid down to sleep. Meanwhile, giant blowflies circled the cooler heaps of dung, laying their eggs in the waste.
Conraydin signaled to Evangel that they should leave. They were deep in the forest again before they dared speak.
“Did you see the flies?” he asked her.
“Yes. It is man’s greed which causes the plague. They take the dung, believing it to be piles of gold, but the maggots are maturing inside, waiting to come out and find their next victims to parasitize.”
“You must go back to the city, warn the people. Once they know, your sisters will be safe.”
He watched as realization filled her eyes.
“I will not leave you.”
“You must.”
“No.”
“Lives are at stake. You can save them and Eastaphalia. My life is forfeit either way.”
“Then so is mine.”
“If you save your sisters, they will have to forgive you and even if they don’t, you can hide from them. You hid from me for five years!”
“I was wrong to do that,” she admitted. “I have learned from my mistake. We will attack now. Dragons are nocturnal. It will give us an advantage.”
“You’re not staying! Your sword is broken!” he shouted angrily.
She turned back to the dragon’s den.
He was confounded by her stubbornness. Didn’t she understand he would do anything to keep her safe? And suddenly, he knew she didn’t. He had never told her all the things he had wanted to say, all the things he needed to say before he let her go again. Now there was time.
“You are my heart and my soul,” he confessed. “I love you. I have always loved you and always will.”
She looked back at him, surprised. Her eyes grew soft and five sad years fell away from her like tears before she came into his arms.
“Then we will face this thing together and destroy it. Together we should fear nothing. We will face him like heroes.”
They returned to the dragon’s cave. Silently, they slipped behind the huge beast. They clambered over the dragon’s side trying to find a soft spot, a loose or missing scale. Evangel located the point where its heart beat closest to its skin. She signaled to Conraydin. He went to her and took out his sword. He thrust down mightily against the pale scaly skin making sparks fly, but could not pierce the impenetrable hide. Evangel joined him then, taking hold of the hilt with him. Together they thrust again and again. The sound of metal striking metal echoed all around them as they dug a hole to the dragon’s heart.
/> The beast began to awake, uncoiling, turning over to seek the source of the noise and pain. Conraydin and Evangel jumped down and ran. The dragon shook the earth as it chased them.
“And who may you be? My afternoon snack?” It roared.
Conraydin stopped suddenly and turned to face the beast. He raised his head as the drooling maw filled with teeth larger than his body opened to devour him.
“No,” he said, trying to borrow enough time for Evangel to escape. “We are messengers from the wizard of the Tower. He bade me call you Mammon and ask for the talisman he gave you.”
“Ah, so you have come for the locket,” it said, stopping short and licking rows of red fangs with a white tongue. “Then she is an Eastaphalian Maiden?” It asked, looking past him.
Conraydin stomach sunk as he turned and saw Evangel walk up, smiling. She had her hand on the hilt of her weapon. Its damaged state was disguised by the scabbard, but she could not show it as proof. Why had she not run?
Conraydin was surprised to see her open her blouse, revealing her pristine breasts and the scar that abided above her heart as proof.
“Those are definitely a virgin’s breasts,” the dragon admitted, “And that is the mark of a Warrior.”
It lifted a tiny gold ornament from around its claw. We have fooled it. We have won. Conraydin thought. It began to pass the trinket over but stopped.
“Still,” it said, chewing its lip, “I should test you with fire to be sure.”
Conraydin met Evangel’s eyes and knew then that their end was near. She
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