Tears of a Dragon

by Bryan Davis

  Devin spewed a short burst of fire all over the body of one of the snakes.

  Walter raised his eyebrows. With Devin firing on his allies, maybe there was hope after all. He snorted. “Your dragon is killing your secret weapon for the good guys.”

  “Fool,” Morgan scoffed. “Dragon’s fire increases the dark angel’s strength.”

  “To a point,” the Watcher said. “If the angel catches on fire . . .”

  “Silence!” Morgan’s face darkened. “This battle will end soon. When the dark angels bite the humans, their death is certain.”

  The snake demon flew away, its scales steaming like hot tar. Five sleek, shining dragons swooped down, blitzing the boiling lake with waves of fire. Walter silently clenched his fist. Yes! That was Thigocia leading the charge!

  Morgan breathed a low tsk, tsk. “Your dragons won’t even make a dent in our forces.”

  A snake demon rose into the flames. Three dragons locked their fiery jets onto its body. As fire encompassed it, its body hardened, then burst into flames. The snake writhed as if in pain, and when Thigocia’s flame intensified, it finally exploded. Thousands of glowing pieces rocketed over the lake.

  The dragons circled as one and zeroed in on another rising serpent. Walter grimaced. Morgan was right. They couldn’t possibly get them all, not even one percent of them!

  Morgan stepped forward a few paces and clapped her hands. “Excellent! Most of my troops are eluding the fire. The dragons will busy themselves with our horde while the Watchers free themselves to assemble the new recruits for battle and make ready for the next step. I will have a supercharged army of warriors, and your dragons will be no match.”

  Walter shifted from foot to foot, itching to charge out and join the fray. With Morgan standing several feet in front, she’d never be able to catch him if he bolted to the side. He glanced up at the hulking, winged monster to his right. No way. Mr. Ugly would probably make it the shortest combat mission in history. If only he could—

  Walter felt a tug on the back of his shirt and heard a low “Shhh.” He peeked over his shoulder. Shiloh and Karen crouched near his heels, glowing auras hovering above their heads. Shiloh rose and sidled up to him, a broken broomstick tightly wedged in her grip. She whispered, “The Watcher can’t see us. We’ll keep him and Morgan occupied while you make a run for it.”

  Walter shuddered at the thought of leaving the two girls to deal with a pair of ghouls, but if the Watcher really couldn’t see them, maybe they had a chance. He nodded, hoping Shiloh and Karen wouldn’t hurt his sister too badly.

  Shiloh drew back the broomstick and tiptoed up to Morgan, Karen padding a few steps behind. With a home run swing, she smacked Morgan’s head, and the two girls leaped on her back, knocking her flat on her face.

  The Watcher pushed Walter away and stormed to Morgan’s side. Shiloh swung the stick upward between his legs, then she and Karen jumped off Morgan’s body and ran. Walter launched into a sprint, heading for the battlefield like a freight train out of control, passing so quickly over the gravel path he could barely feel his feet hitting the ground. The field drew closer. A couple of humans turned his way, one woman with her arms outstretched. His mother!

  He slowed just enough to run into her embrace without knocking her down. “Mom! You’re okay! You got out!”

  She squeezed him tightly, running her fingers through his hair. “And you, too! Praise God!”

  Walter felt a strong hand on his shoulder. “Good job, son. Ashley’s here, and she told us what you did to save her and your mother and Pebbles.” His father patted him on the back. “I’m proud of you.”

  Walter breathed a long, cleansing sigh. For a brief second, he let himself feel proud, too—proud to be a valiant knight who saved a fair maiden, and proud to be the son of Carl and Catherine Foley.

  He pulled away and surveyed the scene. The professor, resting Excalibur on his shoulder, stood by a tree where Ashley crouched over a woman reclining against the trunk. Pebbles poured water from a thermos bottle into a cup and handed it to the professor. Sir Patrick was dragging a carcass away, a colorful animal that looked like the dog he had seen earlier, now decapitated. A dragon swooped low, tracking one of the snake demons as it zipped by. The wind from the dragon’s wings sent a fresh breeze across Walter’s face.

  Pebbles ran up to him and lifted a cup of water. “Want some?” she asked, a concerned look on her lovely Oriental face. Walter smiled and took it gladly. Finally, a few seconds to rest. As he sipped, the water rippled at the top of the cup. He couldn’t stop the trembling in his hands.

  He gazed across the field hoping to spot—Yes! There they were! Shiloh sprinted down the path, Karen close behind. Reaching the group, they stopped, huffing and wheezing, each with a hand on her chest. Shiloh dropped the broken broomstick on the ground. “This might come in handy again.”

  As Walter helped Pebbles pour water for the new arrivals, he glanced around, then turned back to his father. “So, where are Billy and Bonnie?”

  Carl’s shoulders sank. “They entered the rubellite in the pendant’s gem. Apparently, Billy’s supposed to look for his father in there, but we don’t know yet when or how they’ll get out.” He pointed toward the woman leaning against the tree, but, with Ashley blocking their view, he couldn’t see her face. “The pendant’s over there. Brace yourself, son.”

  Walter edged closer to the tree, his legs feeling weaker with every step. Ashley eased to the side and faced him, her cheeks stained with tears. When he recognized the woman, her eyes tightly closed and her skin pale, he leaped forward and fell to his knees at her side. “It was Mrs. B!” He grabbed her limp hand. “Is she . . . Is she . . .”

  Ashley nodded, her lips thin and trembling, her face nearly as pale as Marilyn’s.

  “Well, can’t you . . .” Walter gestured wildly with his hands, gripping an invisible sword and swinging it at the professor. “Can’t you do the healing thing with Excalibur? Didn’t you just hit the ground with it and buzz Ashley or something?”

  “That’s correct,” the professor said. “The energy travels through the ground, somehow picking up trace elements that aid healing. The process—”

  “I don’t care how it works!” Walter spread out his hands. “Let’s just do it!”

  “We tried it already.” Ashley ran her fingers through her hair, but the stringy locks fell back in her face. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I think I’m just completely drained.”

  Walter swiveled his head. “Where’s Thigocia? Can’t she do it?”

  Ashley nodded toward the sky. Walter tilted his head upward, scanning the blue backdrop. He saw five or six dragons firing streams at dozens of snake demons, but the Watchers were nowhere in sight. As the black angels swarmed, the dragons slowed, their tired wings barely able to keep them in flight. Finally, he spotted two dragons battling head to head, shimmering in the sun’s glow—Thigocia and Devin.

  Thigocia dipped below Devin’s swiping tail, folding her wings just in time to avoid getting slapped. She spun back and shot a thin stream of flame at his eyes, blinding him while she lunged forward and latched her jaws onto his tail.

  Devin roared and slung her away, her teeth dragging his scales and sending a spray of sparkling blood into the air. Thigocia dove, then glided, circling around for another attack.

  Walter shook his head. “That could last for hours. How can we get her to come down?”

  Carl opened his palm, displaying the candlestone Shelly had planted as a decoy. “We still have this,” he said, “but I’m not sure what to do with it. I guess it would weaken Thigocia, too.”

  “Maybe not. She’s a healer like Ashley.” Walter scooped up a handful of dirt and let it run slowly through his fingers. He gazed again at Ashley and Marilyn, both limp and ragged. Ashley’s sad, weary eyes gave him an idea. Thinking about actually carrying out his idea knotted his stomach, but he couldn’t come up with anything better. “Dad, keep that rock handy. I have a plan that just might work.
”

  Carl closed his fingers around the candlestone. “What do you have in mind?”

  Walter winked at him. “Just trust me.” He stood, grabbed Ashley’s sleeve, and jerked her to her feet. He screamed into her face. “What’s wrong with you? Can’t you do your job? You’re supposed to be a healer!”

  Ashley’s mouth dropped open, her eyes wide, bewilderment mixing with exhaustion.

  “Walter!” Catherine shouted. “No!” She ran toward him, but Carl held her back.

  Sir Patrick grabbed Karen’s arm and whispered into her ear while the professor stepped toward the field, Excalibur poised in his grip.

  Ashley stared at Walter, her chin trembling. He peeked up to the sky. Thigocia swerved around and stared in their direction.

  Walter grimaced. One more ought to do it. He gripped Ashley’s biceps and shook her. “This is no time to wimp out on us! Get some backbone, girl, or I’ll . . .” He raised his hand as if to slap her.

  Thigocia dove toward the trees. Ashley’s knees buckled. Walter pulled her into a full embrace, holding her head in his hand. “I’m so sorry, Ashley. I’m so sorry.” He set her down near Marilyn’s body and knelt. “I had to make you think you were really in danger.” He nodded toward the sky. “Look. Here comes your mom.”

  Thigocia glided to the edge of the forest and pawed the ground like a mad bull, snorting jets of fire. “Where’s my daughter?” she roared.

  Walter jumped up and waved his arms. “It’s okay! Ashley’s fine.”

  Devin swooped toward them, twin flaming torrents erupting from his nostrils. The professor swung Excalibur and caught the flames in its laser beam. The stream curled around the beam, adhering to it like a snake around a pole. With a flick of his wrists, he slung the fire back toward the dragon, but it just glanced off his scaly hide.

  Carl held up the candlestone. Devin banked into a hairpin turn, beat his wings twice, and headed back toward the skies. Carl cupped his other hand over the gem and exhaled loudly. “At least he won’t be back for a while.”

  Thigocia thumped her tail on the ground and roared again. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Walter took an awkward step back, stumbling at the impact of her rage. “We need your help.” He took three more backward steps and knelt again next to Ashley. She had taken Marilyn’s lifeless hand in hers. “It’s Billy’s mom,” he explained. “She’s dead. We need you to try to heal her.”

  Thigocia’s ears twitched. “I have never raised someone from the dead. Only Ashley has done that.”

  “Can’t you at least try?” Walter pleaded. “Ashley’s healing engine is fried.”

  The other dragons glided to the ground, five in all. Sir Barlow dismounted the lead dragon and collapsed to the ground, panting. Standish, Fiske, and Woodrow joined him, each one tugging at sweat-drenched shirts as they dropped to the forest floor. Pebbles ran to Barlow with the thermos, and each knight took a quick gulp and tossed it to the next man.

  Legossi’s eyes flashed. “I sense grave danger in every direction. The demons retreated, but not because we were winning.”

  “You have fought well.” Thigocia dipped her head toward each dragon. “Three are missing. Where is Hartanna?”

  Legossi flopped to the ground, her voice weak. “She and Newman chased a Watcher until I could no longer see her. Neither she nor the Watcher returned.”

  Thigocia swung around to address the knights. “Did anyone see Sir Edmund? He fell into the lake during my fight with Devin.”

  Barlow wiped his wet mustache with his sleeve. “Not I. He is a fine swimmer, but that lake is cold and rough.”

  “Then we must find him, he’s—”

  “Hey!” Walter stepped in front of Thigocia. “I hate to break up this troop inspection, but you have a dead woman to heal!”

  Thigocia stretched out her neck and drilled her pulsing scarlet stare at Walter. “You have a lot to learn about war, young man. Many march into battle and never return. It is my job to minimize that number.”

  Walter squared his shoulders and stepped forward, meeting her stare. “And you have a lot to learn about compassion. Billy risked his life to save dragons he didn’t even know. If not for him, you’d still be a bucket of bones collecting dust.” He gestured toward Marilyn, keeping his stare fixed on the dragon. “This is his mother we’re talking about.”

  Thigocia gazed at Walter, the fire in her eyes fading. “You have both the wisdom and the courage that my own son had.” Her ears twitched again. “Very well. I will try.”

  The professor stood about thirty feet from Marilyn’s body and waved Excalibur. “Everyone kindly stand back. I’ll need a clear path.”

  As the dragons and humans backed away, Thigocia lumbered forward and settled near Marilyn. The professor energized Excalibur’s beam, sending it rocketing into the sky. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Legossi blared a trumpet-like blast. “Danger!”

  Sir Barlow thrust his finger toward the sky. “A Watcher is flying this way! And it’s carrying Shelly . . . uh, Morgan, that is.”

  The professor spun around, now wielding the sword in a defensive stance. The dragons stood, and the knights leaped aboard. Barlow caressed Legossi on the side of her neck. “We are all tired, so we will not fight unless we must. But show them the fire in your eyes and make them believe we will attack at any moment.”

  The Watcher landed gracefully and set Morgan on her feet. She looked less like Shelly than ever, her face contorting like a twisted rag, the red in her eyes as bright as ruby lasers. Her calm voice, however, belied her wrathful expression. “I think it is time that we end our conflict,” she said, rubbing the back of her head. She clapped her hands, and a wave of snake demons flew down from the sky and settled behind her in a mass of wiggling blackness. Eight Watchers landed at the front of the dark army, one dragging a wet human body in his hand.

  Walter gulped. It was Sir Edmund. His head hung limply, and his chest neither rose nor fell.

  The Watcher threw Edmund into their midst. His body slid to a stop between Karen and Shiloh, his dripping hair and clothes forming a puddle at their feet. Walter rushed to his side and laid a hand on his neck. Warm and pulsing. Still alive!

  Finally, Devin glided to the ground and landed at Morgan’s side. “You have fought valiantly,” she called, “but you are obviously outnumbered. If you continue to fight, I will be forced to kill you all where you stand. I offer you, however, the opportunity to surrender. If you do, we will only kill the dragons. The humans will go free.”

  “In a pig’s eye,” Barlow muttered.

  Walter glanced at his allies. “We’re not afraid of her!” he yelled. “She’s just a category five hurri-pain who’s nothing but hot air.”

  Each knight’s chin drew taut, and they puffed out their chests a bit more. Walter massaged his fist. His words seemed to help, if he could judge by how the troops carried themselves. They’d all need resolve in the face of those insurmountable odds lined up behind Morgan.

  His gaze trailed to his dad whispering with Sir Patrick and Professor Hamilton. What were the three of them up to now?

  Morgan held up Shelly’s fingers. “You have ten seconds to decide.” She began closing her hands one finger at a time. “Eight seconds . . . seven . . . six.”

  Carl grabbed Excalibur from the professor, stepped to the front of the group, and stood shoulder to shoulder with Walter. “You have to release my daughter,” Carl said.

  Walter grabbed his dad’s arm. “No! We can’t surrender!”

  He shook loose from Walter’s grip. “Did you hear me, Morgan?”

  Morgan lowered Shelly’s hands. An evil grin crawled across her face. “I see. You want to add another condition.”

  “It’s not a condition!” Carl marched ahead, closing the gap between him and the evil army, Excalibur’s beam shooting upward. “I’m telling you to let my daughter go. You can’t have her.”

  A Watcher sent a jagged bolt of darkness at him, but he set his
feet and batted it away with the blade.

  Morgan raised her hand. “Stop! He can’t hurt us with that sword. Only Merlin knows how to do that.” Her confidence, however, seemed to fade as Carl marched closer, brandishing Excalibur like a seasoned warrior.

  Carl lowered the beam, angling it so the bright shaft of light hovered over Morgan. He waved it in a tight circle, as if painting a halo over her head—two rotations . . . three . . . four.

  The red in Morgan’s eyes faded to pink. She seemed to teeter for a second, but she locked her knees and stood firm, speaking through clenched teeth, her voice only half as strong as before. “She gave herself to me. She’s mine.”

  Five rotations . . . six. Carl spoke in a low, calm tone. “I am her father. I renounce her vow and apply this shroud of protection.” He completed a seventh rotation and lifted the beam. “Now she’s mine.”

  Shelly dropped to her knees, her eyes rolling back. Smoke drained from her nostrils, collecting in a column next to the closest Watcher. As the smoke solidified, Shelly toppled forward. Before any of the demons could react, Carl scooped her up and retreated, running as fast as he could, Excalibur still in his grip.

  The smoke coalesced into a female shape, a floating black hag of a woman. She lifted her ghostly hands to her withered face and screamed. With her eyes bloody red again, she thrust her arm forward. “Devin! Activate the poison!”

  The dragon heaved a long, hot stream of air, blowing across the field like a Sahara storm. As the scalding breeze passed over the ground, thousands of “pops” sounded from the dirt. Strings of black arose, engulfing Walter and his allies with spewing fountains of noxious gas.

  Walter stared at Morgan through the gathering haze. A vague form floated beyond the field of black fog as she cackled. “The rain worked perfectly. Now, if the doubt doesn’t destroy their hearts, the cyanide will snuff out their lives.”

  Both dragons and humans fell to the ground like rubbery bowling pins, coughing and retching. Walter keeled over, dropping to his knees and clutching his stomach. He wheezed, trying to suck oxygen out of the poisoned air, but the pungent scent of almonds and choking gas clamped his throat shut.