Dragon Slayer

by Michael-Scott Earle

  I whirled and raced toward Sir Galfred. “The others can handle themselves,” I said. “How bad are you hurt?”

  “Hardly at all,” he said with a weak groan. He sat slumped against one wall, and there was a trail of blood leading from where he’d fallen. Blood also pumped from the hole in his side and stained the ice a bright red, and I felt my stomach drop.

  I ripped the straps of his breastplate and pulled it off, and my chest tightened as I saw the wound in his side. A quick examination revealed a fractured rib that pushed against his lung, but it looked like the bone hadn’t punctured it.

  “It’s bad,” I told him. “If you move wrong, you could puncture your lung.”

  “The dragon…” he said and tried to push me away.

  “Didn’t you hear me?” I shouted. “You can’t fight.”

  Sir Galfred reached for his axe and lifted it with a groan. “You…fight,” he gasped and shoved the axe into my hands. “The mission…must succeed.”

  I hesitated. He needed medical attention, but all of Whitespire was counting on us to kill the dragon. If we failed here, the king would have to give up his daughter to Riamod.

  “Here, hold this against your side to stop the blood,” I said as I pulled one of my sleeping blankets out of my pack. “Don’t push too hard, but just press the skin together until it stops bleeding.”

  “You’ll need—” Sir Galfred began.

  “I’ll be fine,” I told him as I picked up the axe and climbed to my feet. “I don’t have time to be cold, not while there’s a dragon to kill.”

  “Goddesses…smile on you…Ethan DePaolo,” he said, and gave me a weak grin.

  “And you, Sir Galfred the Bold.” I saluted him with the axe, turned, and strode toward the tunnel.

  The sounds of battle faded behind me as I hurried down the icy floor. Frosdar’s snoring had stopped, and only silence lay ahead of me. I gripped Sir Galfred’s axe in one hand and my firefighter’s axe in the other. I would succeed, no matter what.

  “Time to be a hero, Ethan,” Nyvea purred in my ear.

  My chest tightened as I rounded a bend in the tunnel and entered a massive cavern of glittering ice. There, sitting at the far end of the cavern, its pale blue eyes fixed on me, sat the fucking dragon.

  And it looked pissed.

  Chapter Eleven

  The dragon was enormous, at least twenty-five feet tall and forty feet long. It had scales somehow whiter than the snow we had just trekked through, and they were thicker than Sir Galfred’s plate mail. Its wings were curled against its sides, but I could see the power in its rippling muscles as it slowly climbed to its two front feet, which were at least five feet thick.

  “So,” the dragon rumbled in a voice that shook the cavern and set the stalactites on the roof rattling, “a human has made it past my sentries. This has not happened in four hundred years.”

  I resisted the urge to run as the massive spiked head dipped toward me. Its icy blue eyes drilled into me as it bared its massive teeth in a grin. “I suppose I have not enjoyed one-on-one combat in more than a century. You will be a fun amusement, little man.”

  The dragon’s eyes closed, and a white gemstone set into its forehead suddenly glowed. The light was crazy intense, and I had to shield my face from the sudden brightness or risk burning my eyeballs. When I opened my eyes a moment later, the world around me looked oddly distorted. Almost like I was looking through a sheet of weird frosted glass.

  No, not glass, ice. I reached out a hand and found myself surrounded by a dome of ice barely taller than my head and three feet across. I slammed the pick side of my axe against the dome, but my one-handed blow barely scratched its surface.

  “Sadly, the amusement will last but a moment.” The dragon’s laughter filled the cavern all around me, and my heart leapt into my throat as I saw the dragon raise its massive tail high over my head.

  The world slowed to a crawl around me. I didn’t have enough time to chop through the dome with the axe, and if I used Sir Galfred’s weapon I would reveal my hand too soon. I had to buy a few minutes until the Gray Hunters could get here with their nets. But in seconds that tail would crash down on top of me.

  “Use your magic!” Nyvea shouted in my mind.

  I acted on instinct and summoned all the magic I’d siphoned from the fire goblin toward my hand. My fingers began to glow, and I felt heat rising from my flesh. Without hesitation, I clenched my fist and drove it straight into the dome. As I punched out, I poured every shred of fire magic into the air just in front of my fist.

  The wall of heat collided with the ice dome a second before my hand, but it was so hot and furious that it had an immediate effect. My fist crashed into the wall of ice and plowed through it as if it was made of plastic wrap. The edges of the ice melted into a basketball-sized hole, so I lowered my shoulder and rammed straight into the wall. The ice shattered like glass, and I threw myself into a roll as soon as I made it through. A second later, the dome of ice shattered beneath the impact of the dragon’s tail.

  Sharp ice chips flew toward me, and I grunted as one sliced my cheek and another punched into my side with enough force to dent my armor. I knew I only had a split second to get in close, so I dropped my axe, gripped Sir Galfred’s weapon in two hands, sprinted toward the massive creature’s side, and wound up for a powerful strike.

  “You bring Riamod’s foul taint to my home?” Frosdar’s roar nearly shattered my eardrums, and raw fury replaced the amusement in its voice. “For this blasphemy, you will suffer, little human.”

  In the split second before I summoned the fire magic in the axe, the dragon’s head snaked around and smashed into my chest. It felt like being hit by a semi-truck going 80 miles per hour, and the air left my lungs like a train’s whistle. The impact threw me clear across the cave, and my heart clenched as I flew toward a forest of sharp stalagmites sticking up from the floor. I had an instant to react, so I twisted mid-air to avoid the icy daggers. One caught my fur cloak, and I heard a terrible ripping sound, but I crashed into the wall of the cave just beyond.

  I groaned as I struggled to stand. My entire left side ached, and I had a hard time breathing from the pain in my ribs. My back, head, and legs hurt from my collision with the wall. Without the goblin’s fire magic keeping me warm, the chill in the cave was cold enough to set my teeth chattering.

  “Puny human!” the dragon said, and its rumbling laughter echoed through the cave. “You will die, as have so many flesh-bags before you.”

  The icy floor trembled as the dragon lumbered toward me. Its sinewy neck darted back and forth like a snake’s, and its claws dug enormous gouges into the ice under its huge feet. Its pale blue eyes closed, and the gemstone on its forehead gleamed once more.

  I threw myself to the side, and another ice dome popped into existence where I’d been standing a second earlier. At the moment the dragon had its eyes closed, I sprinted toward it and slid beneath its belly. Its angry growl echoed all around me as it slowly turned to follow me.

  I ducked behind a ten-foot stalagmite and studied the rest of the cavern as quickly as I could. The dragon had been sitting just beyond the entryway, but the cavern itself was easily the size of a football field. Gold coins, gemstones, and trinkets lay in an enormous pile on one side of the cavern with a thin layer of ice over it to guard against theft.

  It took me a second to take my eyes from Frosdar’s wealth. The amount of gold alone would make me the richest man on Earth.

  But I’d be the deadest man on Agreon if I didn’t figure out how to deal with this dragon, so I pressed the gemstone to turn on the fire axe as the massive wyrm rumbled toward me.

  Time to get to the dragon slaying.

  I gripped the axe tighter and leaped out from behind the icicle to attack the massive winged lizard. Frosdar roared as I swung the axe into its outstretched leg, but the fire-covered head just bounced off its icy scales. I ducked a swipe of the dragon’s other clawed foot and rolled out of the way of its flin
ging tail.

  Well, that could have gone better.

  “Don’t waste time trying to kill it,” Nyvea whispered in my mind. “Look for the altar.”

  I threw myself to one side as light flared from the gemstone in the dragon’s forehead. The ice dome popped into existence just behind me, but I was already sprinting toward another icicle.

  “What does the fucking altar look like?” I asked as the dragon growled behind me.

  “It’s made of stone,” Nyvea insisted. “It will have a white gemstone to match the one in the dragon’s forehead.”

  I scanned the cavern for anything that could resemble an altar but I only saw a pile of gold on the floor and sharp stalagmites.

  “I’m not finding it, and I’m running out of time.”

  I ducked as the dragon’s tail slammed into the icicle above my head, and shards of ice sprayed across the cavern. I raced between the dragon’s legs and swung the heavy axe head against its knees. The blow knocked Frosdar off balance but didn’t cut through its icy scales.

  “Use the Mark of the Guardian,” Nyvea told me.

  I leapt out of the way of a falling stalactite and threw myself behind a ten-foot pillar of ice. It felt incredibly stupid for me to do in the middle of the battle, but I closed my eyes and reached out for the surrounding magic.

  I gasped as I sensed the icy torrent surging through the cavern. It felt like I was in the middle of a whirlpool of magic, and the tattoo on my chest began to pulse as it found the source of Frosdar’s power. The presence of the white dragon behind me was terribly powerful, but there was another source from directly ahead of me.

  “Look for the thread,” Nyvea instructed.

  I had no trouble seeing the thick tendril of magical white light that stretched between Frosdar and a small alcove at the rear of the cavern. The space was no more than three feet wide, but it had to be where the altar was hiding.

  I tried to siphon Frosdar’s magic at the center, but I hissed at the sudden rush of pain in my head.

  “Fuck! Let me try again.” I reached for the magic once more, but Nyvea’s words interrupted me.

  “You need to sever it at the source. Destroy the altar first!”

  I drew in a deep breath and raced out from the safety of the icicle. Bright white light filled the cavern, and I zig-zagged to the left and skidded around a three-foot stalagmite. I didn’t need to look behind me to know there was another ice dome where I’d been standing. The stalactites overhead shook as Frosdar let out a furious roar, and long spears of ice plummeted from the ceiling toward me.

  I darted around stalagmites and dodged falling stalactites, and my fireman’s boots skidded on the icy ground as I dashed toward the alcove. The rumbling of the approaching dragon grew louder with every furious beat of my heart, and the weight of Sir Galfred’s two-headed axe slowed me down, but I couldn’t ditch it. If my desperate gamble failed, it would be the only thing to keep me alive.

  My heart leapt as I caught sight of the block of white within the alcove. It was barely three feet tall and two feet wide, made of solid white marble encased in ice. A gemstone was set into the top of the altar, and a bright white light leaked from the faceted jewel. The very stone itself seemed to glow with an inner light as well.

  “Destroy it!” Nyvea shouted in my mind. “Use the axe to shatter the gemstone and it will weaken the dragon.”

  The ground shook even harder beneath my feet, and I could feel the dragon pounding closer. The bright light once again filled the cavern, and I ducked to the side to avoid the ice dome. But instead of appearing around me, the dome of ice materialized around the alcove. The dragon was trying to protect the altar.

  I raised Sir Galfred’s axe high and wound up for a powerful blow. I twisted as I came within striking distance and swung in a horizontal attack that would have won any World Series. The fiery blade of the axe bit into the wall of ice and shards sprayed everywhere. The impact shattered the dome, and the way to the altar was clear.

  “Duck!” Nyvea screamed.

  I threw myself forward into a slide on my belly, and Frosdar’s teeth snapped shut two inches from the back of my neck. My scale mail screeched as I shot across the icy ground toward the alcove. Before I could swing my feet under me, my shoulder smashed into the wall of the alcove, and pain raced down my left side again. With a grunt, I leapt to my feet, raised the axe high, and brought it crashing down onto the gemstone.

  There was an almost audible snap, and I felt the thread of magic running between altar and dragon suddenly shut off. Frosdar’s shrieks of fury turned to a roar of pain, and the ground shuddered as the dragon stumbled and crashed into its hoard. There was a loud crack as the encasing ice shattered, and gold coins, gemstones, and other treasures sprayed in all directions.

  “No!” Frosdar cried. “What have you done?” The dragon’s voice was garbled and oddly twisted, and I heard confusion in its words.

  “Now, crush the gemstone in the dragon’s forehead!” Nyvea insisted.

  “How the hell am I supposed to do that?” I asked. The dragon lay on its back, and its arms and legs thrashed violently all about. Frosdar’s head crashed against the walls, and chunks of ice ricocheted off the ceilings as the dragon’s tail flailed wildly.

  “Figure it out, hero.”

  “Thanks!” I shouted.

  I was moving before I could consider the insanity of my actions and sprinted up the pile of coins toward Frosdar’s head. I barely avoided the dragon’s lashing feet, and a claw dug into the ground less than two inches from my boots as I threw myself out of the way of its arms.

  I felt my boots slipping on the ice encasing the hoard, so I leaped onto the dragon’s belly and raced up its rough-scaled underside. Frosdar’s head beat against the wall, and its thrashing arms and legs made it difficult to keep my balance. The creature’s eyes were closed, but its mouth was open, and a roar of pain and confusion rumbled from its throat. It took all my willpower to keep running toward those razor-sharp teeth when instinct told me to get out before the dragon brought the cavern crashing down on top of us.

  “What have you done?” Frosdar rumbled again. “My magic!”

  The dragon rolled to one side, and I was hurled ten feet away to crash on top of its hoard. Pain spiked along my ribs, but I forced myself to rise and keep running. White, leathery wings snapped outward, and the dragon’s back arched as it prepared to fly away.

  “Don’t let it escape!” Nyvea cried.

  I leapt onto one of the flapping wings, seized the massive spine with my free hand, and felt myself lifted into the air like a snapping rubber band. I released it at the highest point and flew through the air, high above the dragon’s head, where the downward motion of the wings brought Frosdar’s bulky body rising up toward me. I landed hard on the dragon’s neck, and only luck and reflexes saved me from falling off. I caught onto one of the spiky horns on its head and clung on for dear life.

  “Now!” Nyvea cried.

  “Working on it!” I shouted back.

  I pulled myself up and over the crest of the dragon’s head, and slid feet first towards its long serpentine snout. I winced as the gemstone in the dragon’s forehead flared bright enough to hurt my eyes again, but the light flickered and faded. There was no flare of magic, no sudden appearance of an ice dome around me, so I raised my axe and prepared to strike. I had just one try to get this right.

  With all the strength in my arms, I brought the flaming axe head down onto the gemstone. The dragon roared in agony as red-hot steel sliced through its scales, and pale blue blood dripped from the wound. Its upward motion stopped, and I hung in the air for a moment as the dragon’s bulk plunged toward its hoard. Then I crashed atop the dragon with enough force to drive the air from my lungs, and only my grip on Sir Galfred’s axe kept me from sliding off.

  The dragon’s shrieks turned from deep, bass roars to high-pitched screams. I looked down at the axe and realized in horror I hadn’t shattered the gemstone. I’d only cut Fros
dar’s head just above the part where the stone was set into its forehead. The gemstone was still intact, but as I ripped the axe free for a second strike, the six-inch stone pulled from its socket and clattered onto the dragon’s hoard.

  “Grab that stone!” Nyvea cried.

  I dove after the bouncing gemstone, landed hard on my stomach, and slid face-first down the massive pile of coins. My fingers closed around the clear white stone as I skidded onto the icy ground, and I curled around it as I crashed into the wall. My fur cloak and armor bore most of the brunt of the impact.

  “Nooooo!” Frosdar roared. Its voice had lost its booming resonance, and I turned my legs down so that I could shoot back up to my feet. The dragon began to writhe back and forth on the ground, and its wild thrashings set the cavern shaking.

  “Take the stone to the altar,” Nyvea instructed. “Touch the gemstone to the stone there, and Frosdar’s power will be yours.”

  My eyes flew wide. This was the chance to kill the dragon and get my first magical ability, so I sprinted toward the small alcove.

  Frosdar’s tail crashed into the ground just ahead of me, and I leapt over it with all the strength in my legs. Stalactites rained down on me as I drew closer to the alcove, so I ducked and dodged the shower of icy shards. One sliced down my face, but I felt nothing besides the stinging pain as the magic I had siphoned from the troll hardened my skin. I stumbled once as I slipped on shards of ice, but caught myself and raced on.

  “Do it!” Nyvea shrieked. Her voice had taken on a frenzied tone as if this was the most important thing in the world to her. “Do it now, Ethan!”

  I raced the last twenty feet to the alcove and leapt toward the altar, gemstone outstretched. The moment the gemstone touched the altar, I felt a wave of immense power sweep over me, and the skin of my left bicep burned like a thousand icy needles driving into my flesh. A chill washed through my body, and a moment later it was replaced by a burning so hot I screamed out in pain. Frosdar added its cries to mine, and the walls of the cavern echoed with the force of our cries.