While he was busy trying to come up with solutions for his current predicament, his tailwind warmed. He looked over his shoulder, taking his eyes off the pines and cliffs ahead of him in time to see a stream of fire pointed in his direction. Emich swerved midflight to avoid it. The flames licked at the treetops, setting them ablaze.
Emich strained to move faster and farther ahead of his attacker. He spotted the familiar grassy meadow and the shimmering blue lake. He scanned the area around his home for any sign of movement, for a glimpse of Morgen, but he couldn’t see anything. She was resourceful and smart, he reminded himself. He hoped she had already left, for she wouldn’t be safe in his home with Rubrecht on the loose.
Emich turned west, hoping to draw his pursuer deeper into the wilderness. Over the rocky peaks he flew, continuing to peer over his shoulder to confirm the onyx dragon was there until the moment came when he cast a glance over his shoulder and found nothing. Emich circled back, scanning the horizon for a dark smudge, but Rubrecht had gone.
Emich thought of his home. If Rubrecht knew anything about him, it was that he treasured his ancestral land. Maybe the beast had returned to take vengeance on the house his grandfather had built. Imagining the worst, he sped up, continuing to search the skies for his winged opponent.
He came upon the cliff side clearing where his smelting forge was built when he spotted Rubrecht flying low to the ground up the valley. Emich glided in to perch on the jagged ledge and craned his neck to watch him, keeping his wings lifted as he strained forward, wondering what he was up to.
His nostrils detected the sharp aroma of smoke in the air, and it wasn’t long before he saw a dark plume rising into the sky to the east. He wanted to see what had caught on fire, but it wasn’t in the direction of his home. His instincts told him it was only a distraction, a ruse, so he remained where he stood.
He was so absorbed with Rubrecht and what he was doing that Emich heard the soft footsteps behind him too late.
Pain spread through his shoulder and chest. A screech poured from his mouth as he looked down at the spear buried into his scale-covered flesh.
23
Morgen stood amongst the trees, watching the dragons fly out of sight. A lump had formed in her throat, and she could barely breathe.
The sight of Rubrecht pursuing Emich made her ill. When she’d imagined them standing up to him, it had been in secretive deceit—creating a weakness in his armor or something else that didn’t involve Emich risking his life. She stared at the point where they’d disappeared, not knowing whether she would see the man she loved ever again.
How could he succeed in a battle against a dragon armored in steel so strong it couldn’t be breached? Then she remembered something he’d mentioned in passing. The only metal strong enough to pierce the iron from his father’s mine was the very same steel.
Morgen rushed onto the lawn and rounded the corner into the workshop. It had to be there, but she didn’t know where he kept it. She approached the worktable where all of his tools were laid out. Her hands brushed over many of them as she searched for its pointed tip. Not spotting it there, she moved to the dark end of the room where he kept other supplies. There she found sacks of charcoal, limestone and raw ore.
Then she noticed a wooden box on the floor and leaned down to feel inside it. A sharp blade pricked her finger, and she exhaled quickly. “Ow!”
Morgen sucked the stream of blood from her pointer finger before carefully putting her hand back into the box to pull out what had cut her. Her fingers closed around a triangular shape, and she sighed in relief. She returned to the sun-filled threshold to look at Emich’s tail spear, a weapon and tool that he’d inherited from his father—an item forged of the very same steel as Rubrecht’s armor.
She ran across the lawn to the house and ducked inside. As she passed by the worktable, she picked up a dirty knife and tucked it beneath her belt at the low of her back. With the dragon’s weapon in hand, she rushed into the byre so abruptly the horses snickered and milled away from her. She approached one with her empty hand out so it could smell her scent before she led it to the exit.
Morgen didn’t bother latching shut the byre’s large double doors. Grabbing hold of the horse’s mane, she pulled herself onto its back and paused, deciding which direction to take. She’d watched the dragons fly over the mountains beyond the lake. She had no idea if she could reach them by horse, but she had to try.
Just as she was determining the best way to go around the lake, she heard a pain-filled screech. The horse’s ears pulled back before flicking forward again. Morgen brushed her free hand along the animal’s withers to calm it down.
She had never heard anything like it before. Morgen knew in her heart it had come from a dragon. Not wanting to wait a moment more, she took up a handful of mane, nudged the horse forward and cried out, “Ya!”
The steed didn’t need any further coaxing. It launched forward as if it understood her urgency. Morgen guided it beyond the home and into the pines, following the direction of the screech. The noise had come from the north, a place she’d traveled before by Emich’s side. She could barely breathe as the horse ran between the trees. All the while, she prayed she would once again see him, hoping she wasn’t too late.
The volume of his scream reduced only once his lungs ran out of air. He gasped for another breath and stared at the wooden spear buried in his flesh when he heard a man muttering from behind him in the clearing.
“…got you! I have searched for you these many weeks and knew in my gut I would find you back on Drachenberg!”
Emich looked past his dark scaly shoulder and found Gelfrat standing with a euphoric, almost crazed expression. Emich had never seen him more animated than he was in that moment, raising his hands to the sky, his eyes filled with images of wealth and notoriety. Living amongst the forest animals over the many weeks and roughing it without the comforts of home had left Gelfrat ragged. His well-coiffed appearance had long been forgotten. His clothing was dirty, and Emich doubted the man had bathed or even combed his tangled hair since stepping foot in the forest.
Stunned at his mistake in underestimating such a determined adversary, Emich couldn’t decide what to do first—send a fiery blast near enough to scald Gelfrat’s breeches, or attempt to remove the nasty spear that was impaled deeply in the musculature of his shoulder.
Emich had never killed a man before. He wasn’t the brutish sort to make a show of force or to get into fights. He had always found satisfaction in knowing the depth of his power, yet he did not feel the need to use it. In that moment, Emich was enraged with the foolish man who stood congratulating himself beside the cliff.
But as angry as Emich was, something held him back. He understood the primal fear generated from witnessing a fabled dragon. He also knew the man had no idea there was so much more to the beast he’d attacked—that the mythical creature was really Emich. Would that have changed Gelfrat’s interest in hunting him down? Maybe not, but it didn’t feel right attacking Gelfrat now.
Emich hissed at him in warning, and the dragon-slayer stepped back toward the stone wall of the smelting furnace. The bedraggled man eyed the dragon warily as he stumbled out of sight behind the protective barrier. With Gelfrat a distance away, Emich took advantage of the moment to try to reach his jaws around his injured shoulder to the wooden spear shaft, yet he couldn’t seem to secure his teeth around it to pull it free.
The flexing caused discomfort, so he stopped and relaxed his neck. Instead, he lifted his hind leg to try to scratch at it, which only tore his pierced flesh more. He let his clawed foot settle back onto the rocky ledge as he considered his options. If he changed back into a man, the spear would remain lodged in his shoulder, and although he might be able to pull it out, he would be badly injured and defenseless against Rubrecht.
A shadow fell across the clearing, and Emich lifted his eyes to the sky. Above him, blocking the sun’s rays, was the black silhouette of a dragon. Its leathery wings cupp
ed the air while it hovered overhead, creating downdrafts of wind that swept the ground of dirt and pine needles. Emich snorted in surprise.
Rubrecht’s eyes focused on him as the beast lowered itself beside the stone furnace. Emich stared up the slope at his toothy sneer. Rubrecht held his wings up, posturing his body, making himself appear even larger. Emich noticed the onyx dragon puffing up its chest, a sign Rubrecht was filling his lungs to ignite a stream of fire.
Emich glanced over the rim of the rocky ledge he was standing upon. He lifted his front right leg, trying to ease the strain put on his injured shoulder, and opened his wings, believing the only way to save himself was to take to the skies. A ragged flapping noise met his ears. After a quick glance, he realized his wing had been damaged by the spear. The thin leather webbing was torn at the midpoint, dashing his hope of escape.
Rubrecht extended his neck, and a bloom of light erupted from his mouth just as movement on the smelting furnace wall drew his notice. Gelfrat had clambered on top of the stones, holding a shiny blade above his head. The man roared and leapt through the air toward the other dragon. Rubrecht, taken by surprise, moved his head, and the stream of fire blew across the slope, away from Emich. From the shadow of Rubrecht’s body, his black tail whipped up, swiping Gelfrat out of the air and sending the man tumbling onto the ground.
Gelfrat rolled with a grunt and pushed himself onto his feet surprisingly fast. “Providence is on my side this day. You will know the sting of my blade.”
Rubrecht spun around to face the man addressing him, raising his head high, seeming to show off his reflective armor. Gelfrat frowned at the leather and steel wrapping the beast’s chest and neck, and muttered, “What is this? Who would protect a dragon’s hide?”
A deep rattling sound emitted from Rubrecht while he lunged at his attacker and gnashed his teeth. Gelfrat danced aside quickly, forgetting the sword in his hand. When he readied himself to swing his blade, Rubrecht was ready for him. Rubrecht’s tail whipped around again. Its pointed tip slashed across Gelfrat’s stained doublet, cutting through the padded fabric. Gelfrat stumbled down the hill closer to the rocky cliff Emich was watching from.
The stunned look of disbelief on Gelfrat’s face said it all. Dark red spilled from the slit in his dirty yellow doublet. His hand pressed against his abdomen, trying to tamp the flow. Gelfrat’s eyes lifted and met Emich’s gaze.
Emich recognized the man’s fear of death. Emich’s pain was all but forgotten as he hurried forward to protect the dragon slayer from another of Rubrecht’s advances.
Emich placed himself in the path of the onyx dragon and lowered his head to the ground. He raised his tail over his folded and tucked wings, prepared to thrust the point toward Rubrecht if he moved any closer.
The sound of movement behind him drew his notice. He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake turning his back to Gelfrat, but didn’t dare rip his focus from the dragon before him. Rubrecht was the true danger.
The black dragon stood above them at the top of the slope. Its beady eyes darted away from Emich. Suddenly, Rubrecht opened his wings and leapt into the air. He narrowly avoided Emich’s tail as it lashed out at him. The onyx beast glided overhead.
Emich spun around. He watched the black dragon grab hold of Gelfrat, who had backed onto the rocky ledge. The beast dragged the cursing man off the edge. The man let go of his sword, then flailed wildly to hold onto Rubrecht’s forelegs. The dragon carried him through the sky—then Rubrecht let go.
Gelfrat screamed and clung on the best he could, but only one hand found a grip. His legs thrashed while he looked down at the rocky ground far below them. He did the best he could, but he slipped from Rubrecht’s slick scales.
Emich watched Gelfrat fall through the sky. He lifted his wings and spun around to take off when the pain in his shoulder reminded him of his torn wing. Emich couldn’t look away from the screaming Gelfrat, plummeting to the earth. Helpless to it, he watched the mountain stop the man’s fall. And all was silent once again.
Emich swallowed before searching for Rubrecht’s black silhouette and found it coming straight for him. This was his last chance to save himself. He considered throwing himself from the cliff despite his bad wing, chancing it.
Just then rocks rained along the slope behind him, and a familiar voice called out, “Emich!”
24
The horse slid to a stop. Gravel descended and tapped down the hill. Morgen gripped onto the horse’s mane tight, afraid of falling off. Her throat was dry, and every breath burned, though she scarcely noticed.
When the steed raced out from the cover of the forest and she spotted the empty clearing that held only the rock wall of the furnace, her stomach twisted in knots. She’d sworn the screeching had come from this direction. Having pushed the horse closer to the flat of the rugged expanse, she could barely contain her excitement to find Emich at the bottom of the slope.
His blue-scaled body turned to stare up at her, and she noticed something different about him. Thin strips of wing flapped in the breeze, looking frayed, and a rigid spear shaft stuck out unnaturally from behind his shoulder. A strangled groan was carried to her ears by the westerly winds.
Emich’s head whipped back to gaze out beyond the edge of the cliff. She looked in the same direction and spotted the armor-clad dragon flying their way.
“Emich!” she called again, remembering why she’d come to find him, and threw his father’s tail spear down to him. It clattered over the rocks and came to rest on the ledge. “Hurry—put it on!”
Morgen glanced up at the approaching form of Rubrecht. She wasn’t the only one who saw him. The horse snickered and reared up. She clung to its neck. not wanting to fall off.
Emich’s lizard-like claws scrambled to grab hold of the weapon. He turned his back to her, wrapped his tail around his body and hunched down. The wooden spear shaft lodged in his shoulder waved in the air as he worked.
She sensed Rubrecht’s approach before she saw him. The hairs at the back of her neck stood on end, and the horse spun around to run away. Morgen was quick to slide from its back before it carried her off. She tumbled to the ground and rolled onto her stomach. She lifted her head in time to see the onyx dragon landing on top of Emich.
Rubrecht flapped wildly as he hovered over the smaller blue dragon. His claws scratched and tore the leathery membrane of Emich’s wings, completely shredding them. Emich tried to scramble out from underneath his adversary, lost his footing on the rock ledge and slid over the far side. His forearms clung on, though she didn’t know how long he could hold on with his injured shoulder.
Morgen’s ragged breathing filled her ears as she watched in horror. Rubrecht dropped to the ground and folded his wings. She couldn’t just stand by and watch that hateful creature kill the man she loved, so she grabbed a handful of rocks and threw them as hard as she could, sending them clattering down upon Rubrecht’s back. His head whipped around, and he glared in her direction.
She didn’t care if she didn’t stand any chance against a beast like him. She couldn’t sit by and just watch. Morgen pushed herself onto her knees and threw another handful of rocks. If she could distract him, giving Emich the opportunity to climb to safety, she’d do it.
Emich struggled to keep himself from falling. His back claws scratched at the rocky face, and his right shoulder burned. The spear tip tore through muscles and tendons as he flexed to hold onto the edge of the cliff.
He couldn’t see anything but the black shadow above him. The sound of rocks clattering to the ground met his ears, and he couldn’t understand what was happening. Rubrecht snarled and lifted a wing to deflect the stones. One nearly hit Emich between the eyes, but he turned his head just in time.
Although he couldn’t see much, he knew the direction the rocks came from. He sensed Rubrecht’s anger bubbling up while his attention was focused up the slope. If Rubrecht attacked Morgen, it wouldn’t end any better than it had for Gelfrat. He had to act now.
With a
ll of the strength afforded to him, he lashed his tail upward toward the black dragon’s breast. The steel tip attached to its end drove in through the rectangular plate, the leather backing behind it and the scaly flesh beneath.
A high-pitched shriek pierced the air, and Rubrecht stepped back. His head whipped around to gape at Emich in shock.
Emich tried to pull his tail back but couldn’t. The tail spear was lodged into Rubrecht’s chest and armor. The onyx dragon began to slip over the opposite side of the rocky ledge and dragged Emich overtop the jutting cliff face and down the other side. Emich clawed at the stone, trying to cling on, but he was getting pulled by the very limp Rubrecht leading the way.
Just as he thought he might fall down the mountainside attached to his foe, he heard Morgen’s voice. “Change back! Please!”
He didn’t waste a moment considering his options. He did as he was told. Emich’s thoughts went to the sensation that returned him to his human form. It was easier than transforming into a dragon because it was like going home. He pinched his eyes shut, trying to shut out all other distractions.
When he felt lighter, he slid open one lid. His hands were curled over the lip of the rocky sill with his naked body hanging over the cliff. Emich peered at the bottom of the valley over his still-impaled shoulder. A black smudge rolled and slid down the mountainside. When it came to a final stop, a burst of light radiated out, sending up a dust cloud around it.
“Give me your hand,” Morgen said breathlessly as she hurried onto the ledge.
Emich offered her his right hand, and she grabbed hold. Morgen pulled with all of her might and dragged him back to safety.
Sirens and Scales Page 158
