Tears of a Dragon

by Bryan Davis

  Walter clawed helplessly at the ground. Was this it? Was it all over? Their struggles had been meaningless, futile attempts to do good in this world of sorrows. Why had he even tried? Mankind had been doomed ever since Adam ate the fruit, so why try to save people who didn’t want to be saved? They weren’t worth the effort. Every second he had suffered was a futile waste of sweat and blood.

  Writhing in the dirt, he desperately tried to gasp a good-bye to his parents. Most of the bodies lay motionless under a blanket of gloom. Yet, one person stood upright, sleek and lovely, her blond-streaked hair shining in the rays of sunlight that filtered through the fog. Shiloh!

  She leaned over and plucked something from the wet spot near Edmund’s face. It looked like a flower of some kind, a tall stalk that ended in a round bulb. It hadn’t been there earlier, so it must have sprouted and budded in a matter of seconds. She peeled back the bulb’s covering, then broke off a piece of white stuff inside. After putting a piece in Karen’s and Edmund’s mouths, she hurried to Walter and pressed a fragment through his lips.

  With his senses failing, he could barely hear her gentle British tones. “Chew it quickly.” She jumped up and disappeared into the mist.

  Walter made a feeble effort to grind the fragment in his teeth, then swallowed hard and forced it down his throat. It was sweet, sort of like honey, but as soon as it reached his stomach, it turned bitter. Gas erupted in a painful belch. Cramps wrenched his muscles. He curled into a fetal position and moaned. Heat blazed from his gut and radiated to his skin. Sweat spilled from every pore, drenching his body.

  When the pain eased, he opened his eyes. His vision had cleared. His stomach muscles relaxed, allowing him to stand. With the smoke breaking up, he could see Shiloh giving some of the plant to one of the knights. Other people rose from the ground and straightened their frames. Barlow. Newman. Even Edmund began climbing to his feet. The other two hoisted him the rest of the way and patted him on the back.

  Walter dashed to his parents and offered his mother his hand. His dad brushed himself off and lifted Shelly to her feet. She seemed woozy, but even her bleary eyes were an improvement over Morgan’s scarlet spotlights. When she saw Walter, she gave him a weary smile. “Forgive me?” she asked.

  Walter gave her a warm hug. “You bet.”

  She pulled at the sides of her black dress. “I think I need to change . . . a lot of things.”

  Walter clasped her shoulder. “I know what you mean. . . . We’ll talk.”

  His dad retrieved Excalibur and waved it over his wife’s head.

  She coughed. “Carl?”

  “I’m applying . . . a protective halo . . . so the demons won’t see you.” When he finished, he handed the sword to Walter. “Take it,” he gasped. “I’m too weak to fight with it.”

  Walter encircled his fingers around the hilt, and the blade brightened in his grip. As if drawn by Excalibur’s beacon, Karen ran to Walter’s side and clutched his arm. “Do you think they’ll attack when the smoke clears?” she asked.

  Walter tried to peer through the smoke, but he could only get a vague sense that something was still moving out there. “Don’t worry,” he said. Karen leaned against his shoulder. Her touch sent a surge of strength into his flexing muscles. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.”

  Bonnie and Brogan raced to the front of the rubellite screen. About twenty people had gathered on the stage, each one anxiously watching the image.

  “For a while it was blank,” Martha said, “like something covered it up, but all of a sudden I could see an angel and two girls. Then the screen started bouncing. For a few seconds, I saw a horrible dog with green and orange teeth, then just a floor of some kind. It changed so quickly, it was hard to keep up with, but there was a lot of grass and people’s feet. After a few minutes, I could see faces, worried faces. There was a big man. I could tell right away he was a friendly sort, and strong too. He was carrying a little girl in one arm, and a pretty woman hung on to his other arm. She was crying . . . sobbing, really. The big man hugged and kissed the woman, quite a passionate kiss, if you ask me, and then he walked out of view. Then an old man struck the ground with a flashing sword, and a girl with rays of sunshine coming through her eyes looked at us. The light actually came right into the theatre and lit up the whole room. After a few seconds, her eyes returned to normal, and she started crying. Since that time, we’ve been watching blue sky with flying dragons passing across the screen every once in a while.”

  Bonnie had a hard time taking her eyes off the red glass. Whoever was wearing the pendant now was keeping it perfectly still, giving them a good view of what was going on. A battle raged in the air, mounted dragons shooting jets of fire at the Watchers as they dodged and darted about, battling back with bolts of darkness emanating from their eyes. Bonnie counted only six dragons. Hartanna wasn’t among them.

  Bonnie paced in front of the screen and glanced more and more often at the door to the lobby. Billy had to come at any second now. He would bang the door open and march in with a hundred new believers. But the door, like an unanswered prayer, remained shut. She clasped her hands in front of her and breathed another silent petition for Billy’s safety. This was no time for doubt. God’s timing and wisdom were perfect.

  A gaunt old man stepped forward, his voice shy and apologetic. “Excuse me, Miss. We have less than ten minutes. When do we leave?”

  Bonnie wanted to give him a confident answer, but how could she? Her own confidence was as fragile as burnt thread, and she had no answers. “Well, I think this screen is supposed to turn white, and then . . . we’ll go through, I guess.”

  Sarah, as if reading Bonnie’s mind, laid her arm around her shoulders. “I can already feel my memory coming back, and I know what my husband would say. We cannot predict how God will work, only that he will always succeed.”

  “Where is Billy?” a voice interrupted.

  Bonnie spun around. Merlin was again standing inside the screen, his brow low. She glanced at Sarah, who smiled and eased back into the crowd, seeming almost bashful as she stood next to Dorcas.

  Bonnie stepped closer to the screen. “We separated,” she explained. “He told me to come here while he tried to rescue some people.” She flashed a broad smile. “Your wife’s here!”

  Merlin beamed. “Excellent!” But he quickly doused his delight, looking like a man who knew he had to get down to business. He beckoned for Bonnie to come closer. She peeked at the whispering crowd, each face darkened by worry, then took the last step between her and the crystal wall. Merlin spoke in a low, serious tone. “Did it seem that the villagers wanted to kill him?”

  “Some did,” Bonnie whispered. “Jasmine for sure.”

  Merlin’s brow dipped even farther. “If they succeeded in killing him, who will bring his body here so he can be raised?”

  Bonnie gulped and peeked back at the onlookers again. Brogan had drawn closer, obviously listening while pretending not to. “I . . . I don’t know,” she said. “Billy thought I could take the people through, so I—”

  Merlin raised his voice and gestured toward the people on the stage. “Only the king can pierce the veil! If he doesn’t come in time, none of these faithful ones will be able to pass.”

  Bonnie’s stomach knotted. The whole world seemed to be crumbling, and she could do nothing about it. She laid her palm on the crystalline screen. “Merlin, I’m so sorry! It was all so confusing. We just had to guess what to do.”

  Merlin pressed his palm up against Bonnie’s. “Yes, it seems that God often works that way. He lets his children step out in faith, even though they don’t always know exactly what they’re doing, and he makes their choices work.” He slid his hand into the deep pocket of his robe and withdrew a large hourglass. “But still, God’s prophecies cannot fail. The king must open the door.” He set the hourglass by his feet. The sands in the top half were almost gone. “Time is running out. There are fewer than seven minutes remaining.”

  �
�I’ll go and drag him back here if I have to,” Brogan offered. “Those others aren’t worth dying for, are they? They never believed before.”

  Bonnie pointed her finger directly at Brogan’s nose. “Did you ever come to the theatre before today? Why should you get to go and not them?”

  Brogan backed away and bowed his head. “Touché, fair lass. A well-placed blow.” He hurried to the edge of the stage and began descending the stairs. “But still, the practical truth is—”

  The door banged open. A tall figure walked in carrying a body, but the darkness in the back of the seating area concealed his identity. Dozens of others filed in after him, each face veiled in the dimness, each pair of feet shuffling. Only their wide white eyes were visible, darting this way and that.

  The lead figure strode down the aisle, his form becoming clearer by the second. As he marched up the stage steps, Martha cried out, “It’s Reginald! And he’s carrying the king!”

  Reginald stopped in front of Bonnie. Billy’s arms dangled, blood dripping from his fingertips. Tear tracks striped Reginald’s blood-stained cheeks. “I brought him here as quickly as I could, though I cannot see how any hope remains.”

  Bonnie grabbed Billy’s hand and pressed it to her cheek. He had no ring. How could he come into the theatre without one unless he was . . . “Oh no!” Her whole body shook. She felt for a pulse. “Is he . . .” She swallowed hard, unable to squeak out another word. With her gaze fixed on Billy’s blood-soaked chest, she begged it to take in a single breath. It didn’t move.

  Reginald kept his head angled away from Bonnie, his face streaming with new tears. “Yes, my precious girl. A betrayer killed him.” He dropped a dagger at his feet, and it clanked on the floor. “But she will not kill again.”

  Bonnie ran her trembling hands up and down Billy’s dark sleeve. “But he can be raised . . .” She looked back at the rubellite screen. “Right Merlin?”

  “Bring the dagger to me!” Merlin ordered.

  Brogan snatched up the stone blade and rushed it to the glass wall. Merlin eyed it for a moment, then clenched his fist. “It’s the staurolite dagger! Morgan’s work. It will take more than the power of the rubellite to raise the king now.”

  Several people on the stage murmured. More than one began to weep. Martha fell to her aged knees wailing a vague lament.

  Reginald set Billy’s body on the stage floor and knelt beside him, covering his face with his hands. “I was close by. I should have stayed with him. Now all is lost!”

  “No!” Merlin shouted. “Even in death, he can still pierce the veil, but he must be carried.”

  Reginald slid his hands under Billy’s body again. “Shall I carry him?” he asked.

  Merlin shook his head. “Did Billy tell you your physical body is inhabited by someone else?”

  “If he did,” Reginald said, laying Billy’s hands on his chest, “I was too dense to listen.”

  Merlin pointed at the stage floor. “Then you must stay here until a body is secured for you. Otherwise you would disperse in the air as a cloud of energy if you tried to cross over.”

  “Then who will carry him?”

  “There is only one who is able,” Merlin replied, “the only other one here who is fully dragon and fully human, the only one who can split the barrier between the two worlds.”

  Merlin turned his gaze to Bonnie. “You have carried Billy before, both physically and spiritually. Although he has been a valiant warrior, he could never have taken the first step, much less the next ten thousand, without your support. You are the virgin who gave him spiritual birth. It is only right that you should be his shroud and carry him on his last great journey.”

  Bonnie could only nod in reply. She crouched next to Billy, her legs trembling so badly, she wondered if she’d be able to get up again. She slid her hands under his back and legs, and Reginald helped her lift Billy’s body until she could stand up and set her feet.

  When Reginald pulled his hands away, Bonnie let out an “oomph.” Billy’s full weight bent her back and anchored her feet to the stage floor. Rippling pain shot through her arms as she strained to keep them curled. With no wings to help her lift and with her legs wobbling, she could barely stand, much less walk.

  A young woman stepped forward from the crowd, now swollen to a hundred or more souls. “You can do it, dear angel! If not for you, I would be lost with the rest of them. You are a messenger from the Maker!”

  Brogan whispered in Bonnie’s ear. “That’s my sister, Darby. I told her all about you and my dreams.”

  Mr. Collins joined Darby, clutching the brim of his bowler hat. “And I, Miss, would never have believed had I not seen you.”

  Bonnie shuffled her feet toward the screen. Billy’s arm fell from his chest and dangled again. She choked back a sob. “So, I just walk right through?”

  Merlin picked up the hourglass and stepped to the side of the crystal veil. “Yes. As the king enters, the red in this gemstone screen will fade to white. The rest of the faithful will follow the passage to freedom.”

  “Except for me,” Reginald said, backing away. “Finding a body for me is a hope beyond hope. Who would be willing to die and allow me to take his place?”

  Bonnie felt as if her face was about to explode. “You can’t stay! You’re the main reason Billy came!” With her arms aching and time fleeing, she couldn’t argue. “Merlin! What can we do?”

  “Nothing that I know of, fair maiden. When the prophecies run dry, all I can do is watch in wonder as God completes his master plan.” He held up the hourglass. Only a few grains remained at the top. “As for you, you have to trust and obey. There are only seconds left.”

  Bonnie gulped. It became so quiet, she could hear Billy’s blood dripping onto the stage. She leaned back, slid her arm up higher on his shoulders, and blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. With her weight creaking the planks, she slid one shoe forward, then the other. The gemstone screen pulsed its red beacon signal as though warning her to stop, go back, never return.

  “One more step, Bonnie!” Brogan shouted. “You can do it!” A chorus of cheers erupted.

  Merlin faded away at the side of the screen. In the center, she could see Walter holding Excalibur, its beam blazing. As she took the final step, the crystalline barrier flashed with white light.

  When the smoke cleared, the army of demons had dispersed. Morgan half stood, half floated next to the biggest Watcher. Two other Watchers remained behind them along with twenty or more of the snake demons.

  Excalibur vibrated in Walter’s grip as if it wanted to fly into battle. He gazed at his hand on the hilt, then slowly followed the blade up to the point, staring at it with wonder.

  Morgan screamed, “They’re still alive! Samyaza! Gather the forces and strike them down at once!”

  Samyaza blasted a single bass note that vibrated the ground at Walter’s feet. The snake demons assembled into formation again, flying down from the sky, their black bodies shimmering like polished obsidian. While they congregated, Samyaza barked orders. Walter glanced at his friends. Most were now on their feet, but it seemed that the dragons were still groggy, their bodies swaying as they tried to keep their balance. There was no way they could survive another assault. The knights seemed dazed as well, but at least they were up, encouraging the dragons to dig deep for one last battle.

  Ashley knelt with Professor Hamilton next to Marilyn. With her body propped up against a tree, Mrs. B’s arms hung limp, her head tipping to one side. Blood painted a wide circle under her neckline, staining her gray sweater.

  Walter’s heart ached. That was Billy’s mom, and somehow Billy was inside the pendant that lay on her chest, having no idea that his mother was dead. He was probably in there spilling his guts to do anything God commanded him, and if he ever made it out alive, he would find a new tragedy. Walter wrung Excalibur’s hilt with both hands. It was up to him to prevent it.

  Ashley waved at Walter. “Bring Excalibur! I’m feeling stronger, so the profes
sor wants to try again before it’s too late!”

  Ashley’s cry echoed in Walter’s brain. Excalibur vibrated, sending a tremor into his heart that echoed with a surge of power from deep in his soul. His muscles flexed on their own, extending the sword into the air. Power erupted from his chest and into his arms, ripping upward toward the blade. When the energy hit his hands, the blade ignited into an explosion of brilliant light, much brighter than he had ever seen it.

  “Stand back, Prof!” Walter yelled. “I’ll do it.”

  As the professor crawled away, the knights and dragons perked up their heads. Shelly, Shiloh, and Karen stood like statues, their eyes bulging. Walter’s dad hugged Shelly, and his mom stooped between the younger girls and drew them close. Ashley pulled Marilyn’s body into her embrace, then nodded.

  Walter slashed the beam downward, sending a streak of light shooting across the ground. A series of sharp pops erupted in its path, and tiny puffs of smoke dotted the line like black toadstools. The bolt slammed into Ashley. Her arms locked around Marilyn. Her hair turned bright white. Laser beams shot through her eyes, and her whole body shook.

  Ashley pointed the beams at Marilyn’s heart. They struck the pendant, sending a huge splash of bright sparkling crimson all around, a constantly exploding fireworks display that nearly shrouded Ashley in red flares.

  Walter kept the energy going, not knowing when to shut it off, and not really sure how. The sparks turned from red to pink, then to white, like a constant storm of shooting stars.

  Ashley cried out, her voice shattered by the streaming flood of high-voltage light. “S-s-s-stop, Walter. S-s-stop!”

  Walter swung the beam clear, letting it rocket into the sky. He glanced back at the army of fiends as they formed rank again. Devin flew in and landed gracefully next to Morgan, completing their front line.