by Ramy Vance
The dragon’s horns swept back from its head like a ram’s, and its leathery wings were folded over its back. Its scaly eyelids were closed, and a gold clock was clasped tightly in its claws.
Lindsay was jumping up and down, one hand still over her mouth. Her eyes were wide enough that Dawn thought they were going to fall out of her skull. Dawn reached over and touched Lindsay’s shoulder, hoping to calm her down. “Lindsay, it’s okay. It’s just a sleeping dragon. We can figure out what we need to do.”
Lindsay turned to face Dawn. She was smiling manically. “I’m not scared,” she exclaimed quietly. “I thought I wanted to be back home. I thought I wanted to write books for the rest of my life, but I was wrong. The thought never crossed my mind, but I know what I’m supposed to do with my life. I’m going to fight a dragon.”
“Lindsay, that is a terrible idea. We should not fight the dragon. That thing could barbeque us.”
“Or—just hear me out—we could slay the dragon.”
“No.”
“Fine.”
Dawn checked around the cavern. It was too large to get a good read on, but she wanted to know how to get out of there as fast as possible. There was a sleeping dragon in the room, so it was not a good place to linger. “All right, let’s split up and figure out how to get out of here,” Dawn suggested. “Once we figure that out, we can deal with how to get the clock. All right?”
The Wordsmiths agreed and broke up to search around the cavern. It was much smaller than they had initially thought, and it didn’t take long for them all to find their way to a door nearly eight feet tall, covered in runes. It also had a painting of the gold clock on a pedestal. “This must be where you use the clock,” Robyn directed. “So, what’s the plan? How are we getting past the sleeping dragon?”
Lindsay was the first to speak, and even in a whisper, her voice carried a heavy air of authority. “Dawn and I will sneak up and grab the clock. I checked my HUD, and I have a 100% chance of success. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dawn did as well.”
Dawn glanced at the sleeping dragon and checked her HUD. Lindsay was right. She had a 98% chance of success. “Yep, looks like it’s you and me,” Dawn said. “So, we snag the clock and head back over here, open the door, set the clock on the podium, and go back in time to before any of this happened. The Wordsmiths save the day. The end. Sound good?”
There were no disagreements.
Dawn and Lindsay approached the dragon. Both of them stayed in the shadows, which wasn’t hard since most of the cavern was covered in them. Fear had crept up Dawn’s spine and settled in the back of her head since she knew that in any fantasy novel or game, dragons were the be-all and end-all of power.
It was best to leave the thing sleeping if they could, yet Dawn wasn’t sure if that was what was on Lindsay’s mind. She had a mad glint in her eye, a look Dawn had never seen on Lindsay’s face before. Maybe Lindsay was cracking. You had to be cracked to want to fight a dragon.
Lindsay and Dawn climbed the pile of gold, Dawn sticking to the shadow sections while Lindsay cast invisibility and deft feet spells on herself. She phased out of sight, and her feet hardly disturbed the treasures she walked on. They were both moving pretty fast, and it took no time for them to get to the dragon, where they stood in silence and awe for a few moments. The sheer enormity of the creature was terrifying.
If it woke up, it could easily swallow Lindsay and Dawn whole. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about those things, though. Dawn stepped out of the shadows and gently grabbed the dragon’s claw. She moved it slightly so Lindsay could grab the clock. Lindsay slowly backed away, holding the clock, as Dawn replaced the dragon’s claw in its original position. Thank God for heavily sleeping dragons, Lindsay thought.
Lindsay handed the clock to Dawn, then she gave the thief a hug and faced the dragon again. “What are you doing, Lindsay?” Dawn hissed.
A faint light came from Lindsay’s wand, and she smiled at Dawn. “Go. Finish the quest. You only get to fight a dragon once in your life.” Then she raised her wand and brought it down in a swishing motion, a bright smile across her face. Dawn ran as fast as she could. The heat in the room suddenly disappeared, and Dawn couldn’t help but turn around to see what Lindsay had done. She was half-glad she had, and half-terrified. A giant spear of ice had formed above the dragon’s head, and it came crashing down with a powerful crack.
The dragon roared in pain as its eyes snapped open. Lindsay cast a shielding spell on herself just in time for the dragon to open its mouth and shoot fire streaming at her, sending her flying through the air as she laughed insanely.
Dawn arrived at the door, hunched over and out of breath. Both Robyn and Dakota were watching the battle that was taking place on the other side of the cavern. “Should we go help her?” Robyn asked.
Dawn shook her head as she stood up, her face grim and determined. “No,” she said. “Lindsay knows we came here on a mission. I think she might have found herself today. Now, come on!”
“You sure we shouldn’t stay to see what happens?”
“Fuck it. Just use your imagination!”
The Wordsmiths took off while Lindsay squared off against the dragon. Lindsay stepped toward the beast and cast a bolt of lightning that struck the dragon’s face. The dragon hardly seemed to mind. All the color drained from Lindsay’s face as the dragon bolted toward her, flames flying from its infernal mouth.
Lindsay threw up a shield and ducked out of the dragon’s path, but she wasn’t fast enough, and the dragon caught her in its claws. Its mouth was open with hunger, and saliva dripping down its fangs. He threw Lindsay into the air, ready to chomp on her. As Lindsay fell, she aimed her wand at the gaping gullet of the dragon and fired an ice spear down its throat. The force of the spell threw Lindsay backward, and the dragon roared in pain, the spear piercing its side before evaporating.
The dragon took to the air and dove for Lindsay, who did the only reasonable thing; she ran. She cast spells over her shoulder as she booked it for her life. One of the spells, a lightning curse, hit the dragon in the eye.
The dragon screamed in pain, it lost its balance, and slid forward. Lindsay could feel the dragon skidding across the ground, and she turned around in time to be greeted by a claw. She was hit with enough force that she flew across the cavern and smashed into the wall.
When she stood, she coughed blood.
As Lindsay tried to catch her breath, the dragon leaned forward, its snarl turning to a grin. It spoke in its own tongue, rumbling ancient speech that sent shivers down Lindsay’s spine. What was more disturbing was that she understood what was being said. Not the actual words, but she was filled with the dragon’s thoughts, emotions, and intention. This was what the dragon had been waiting for. They were here for each other.
Lindsay snapped her wrist, and an electric whip sprouted from her wand’s tip. She and the dragon circled each other, sparks flying off Lindsay, and smoke billowing from the dragon’s nostrils. “Yeah,” Lindsay told it. “I’d say we were made for each other.”
The dragon leapt at Lindsay, and the great Wordsmith pulled back her wand hand before snapping it forward and wrapping the electric whip around the dragon’s throat. The dragon glared at her and opened its mouth. Lindsay saw fire building in the dragon’s stomach and felt the heat of a thousand suns preparing to scorch her skin.
She hoped her shield spell would hold, but doubted it.
Not that it mattered, she mused. This was what she had always wanted—to face a dragon. Live or die, to fight a dragon. “Yeah…” she muttered with satisfaction. “We were made for each other.”
Meanwhile, on Earth:
Tao was in yet another hallway he didn’t recognize. This time, though, there were other people, and they were running as hard as they could.
Andy Peloquin, Nazri Noor, and A.L. Knorr were sprinting toward Tao. They hardly slowed down, but Nazri grabbed Tao’s hand as she passed and pulled him along. “Where are you guys going?” Tao a
sked.
Nazri pulled Tao harder so that he would catch up. “Are you saying you haven’t noticed the horde of monsters that invaded the convention?” she asked.
“All right, point taken. Do you know where you’re going?”
“Did you also miss the part where the cottage we’re staying at is also a magical funhouse?”
“I’m just going to stop asking questions.”
The four writers turned a corner and stopped to catch their breath. “You know what we need right now?” Nazri asked. “We need a Dresden. A Harry D.”
Andy couldn’t hide his smile, even in this dire a situation. “If there was any time in my life I was surer that I didn’t need a hairy D, right now is it,” he said.
A.L. shook her head in disagreement. “We wouldn’t need a Harry D anyways,” he said. “I’d take a Harry Potter over Dresden any day.”
Nazri laughed incredulously. “Are you kidding me? You would pick that wimp of a magician over Harry Dresden? Harry Potter is the single worst magical hero who’s been written into fantasy. If you would even call the Harry Potter books fantasy. I would lump those right into children’s literature along with The Chronicles of Narnia. Just because someone whips around a wand, it doesn’t make them a real wizard. Especially when they don’t even have the offensive capability to take care of themselves.”
“What do you mean, doesn’t have the offensive abilities? Harry totally killed Voldemort!”
“No, Voldemort killed Voldemort. All Harry did was deflect a killing curse. He couldn’t have beaten Voldemort in a real fight. The only reason Harry won was that it went along with the book’s thematic ideas. Talk about a copout. Everyone of Harry’s friends is out there whipping out curses and charms, and the only thing Harry can do is disarm and reflect. Dresden could really get down. The dude has mastered more forms of magic than anyone in the Harry Potter universe, and he’s not just some chosen one who is supposed to kill a Dark Lord. He actually works at it. That’s the kind of guy we need right now.”
“Harry totally has the power factor. He becomes one of the best Aurors of the wizarding world.”
“Post-narrative. Just because an author tweets about something a few years later, it doesn’t mean it’s canon. Dresden would be the winner in this situation.”
Tao tried to shush the writers, but none of them paid any attention. They were too caught up in their theoretical battle of heroes. Now they were talking about who would win in a straight-up fight between the two Harrys. Tao took advantage of the moment to check around the corner. What he saw was less than encouraging.
A horde of orcs was marching down the hall. They carried spears and swords and were shouting war cries. Tao turned back to the writers and whispered, “Guys, we need to—”
Nazri raised her hand to cut Tao off. “Hold on a second, Tao,” she interrupted. “We’re finally getting someplace. Turns out there are some narrative loopholes with—”
Nazri was cut short by a spear to the chest. Tao didn’t waste any time; he took off running down the hall, away from the writers and the orcs. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see a huge explosion go off, sending body parts of orcs and humans alike through the air.
Tao felt horrible about having left the other writers, but he knew he would have been another corpse if he had lingered even a moment longer. He was wondering if there were any writers to kill. There had been a significant number of deaths. If he were writing this as a book (yes, a ridiculous idea to be pondered at the moment. He was very aware of its ludicrousness), this would be about the time that he stopped wallowing in ironic deaths and maybe got the story moving in a different direction. With those thoughts on his mind, Tao opened the first door he saw and stepped into the room.
Chapter Thirteen
The Wordsmiths kicked the door down and ran into the next room. There was a collective sigh when they saw the long road that lay before them…
A road that was covered with hundreds of standing skeletons.
Thankfully the skeletons were not moving, just standing around as if they were in stasis. Still, they all held weapons. Not a good sign.
Beyond the skeletons was a golden podium.
A screech ripped through the air, and the Wordsmiths all looked over their shoulders. The dragon had taken flight, its wings causing gusts that sent gold flying. Lindsay was flying as well, casting lightning bolts at the dragon, who landed on the ground and sputtered fire as it spoke. Its tongue was ancient, and it was gesturing with its claws as if it were an orator of old. This is not good, Dawn thought.
The dragon pointed at the Wordsmiths and screeched again before taking flight, then it tried to swat Lindsay out of the air. With that gesture, the ground started to shake, and Dawn nearly lost her balance.
Once the earthquake had passed, Dawn saw a hand reach out of the ground in the room with the dragon. Then another hand. Soon the ground was covered with skeletal and decomposing hands popping out of the ground like a perverse rose garden. Heads followed, and it was not long until hundreds of skeletons and zombies filled the room.
One of the skeletons raised its sword toward the Wordsmiths and charged.
Dawn and Dakota turned to flee. It made more sense to run into the quiet but brooding skeletons rather than fighting the angry skeletons. As they ran, Dawn noticed that Robyn hadn’t moved. Against her better judgment, she stopped and shouted, “Robyn, come on!”
Robyn turned and gave her his god-awful baby smile. “You know, Lindsay found out something about herself when she saw that dragon. I think I did, too.” He turned and closed the doors before the skeletons could pass through. It took all his strength, but he kept the door closed as the skeletons tried to tear through the wood. “Go!” Robyn shouted.
Dawn didn’t want to leave Robyn, but she knew that there were more lives at stake. She ran toward the darkest parts of the room, away from the skeletons, dragging Dakota with her. “You should have something for the darkness too,” Dawn said as she shoved Dakota into the shadows. Much to her delight, Dakota turned nearly invisible. He wasn’t transparent, but it was going to have to work. They inched along the wall as Robyn screamed from the pain of holding the door. Dawn and Dakota both stopped at the sound. It was enough time to notice that the skeletons they were inching past were beginning to move. “Aw, shit,” Dawn muttered.
Dakota hushed Dawn. “They’re gonna hear us!”
“How the hell do skeletons even hear? They don’t have ears. Or eyes. Or anything. Worst undead ever.”
The skeletons rushed toward the door Robyn was holding. As one of the skeletons ran, it tripped over its feet and fell into the wall—right on top of Dawn. The skeleton looked right into Dawn’s eyes and felt around, realizing that it was a person’s stomach it was touching, not a wall. It raised its sword, and Dawn dove out of the skeleton’s way as the other skeletons turned to face her. “Is this irony?” she asked. “Get out of here, Dakota. Go finish the thing.”
Dawn drew her other daggers from her belt as a dozen skeletons broke away from the main group charging toward Robyn, who had his back against the wall as he fought off ten skeletons at once. Dawn flipped her daggers and stared down the skeletons. Lindsay only gets to fight a dragon once. Robyn only gets to be a badass once. I guess I only get one chance to have a tragic, heroic death, Dawn thought. She threw herself into the horde of skeletons, her daggers taking down three of them before she was surrounded. Much like Robyn, it would not be long until she was overrun.
Dakota slipped past the last of the skeletons and hiked up to the podium, where no threat seemed anywhere close. He couldn’t help but look at all the madness beneath him, though. Fire burst from the door Robyn was holding and the dragon tore through it, flying into the room as Lindsay chased it, calling down ice spears.
Beneath them, Robyn was still fighting. An arrow was stuck in his chest, and two skeletons towered over him. He raised his sword, but a skeleton kicked it out of his hand before the horde took to butchering him li
ke a piece of meat. It was a gruesome, deeply unsettling image, a giant baby being hacked to pieces by skeletons. Then there was a piercing scream. That was Dawn. Dakota couldn’t see her in the pile of skeletons. Dakota snapped back to attention. He took the gold clock and set it on the podium.
The hands of the clock began spinning, and Dakota saw the cavern melt away as reality pulled itself apart. He saw space and time grow old in front of his eyes. Out in the darkness of eternity, a giant turtle with a moss-covered shell turned its eyes on Dakota.
Everything stopped.
Dakota stood before the turtle as it yawned, its mouth hanging open as if bored. “The fuck can I help you with?” the turtle asked.
Dakota stumbled over his words. “Uh, I want to go back in time to before my friends were killed?”
The turtle blinked slowly. “You mean these idiots?”
All of a sudden, Dakota was back in the cavern, watching himself watch his friends fight.
Robyn was breaking each skeleton he could get his hands on in half. Somehow, he had managed to survive what had looked like a fatal blow. He was pinned against the door, facing odds that seemed downright impossible, yet he had not fallen. His body was covered in wounds and he was bleeding profusely, but he kept fighting. A skeleton rammed its sword into Robyn’s stomach, and he fell against the door. He held his guts in as he looked at the skeletons that surrounded him. The swords rose and fell. When the skeletons stepped away, there was only gore and viscera.
Dakota turned away; he couldn’t watch anymore, but he had no choice. He was in the middle of the battle scene, where he should have been. A twinge of guilt cut through him since he knew his friends were dying without him.
The turtle was standing behind him. “No,” Dakota said. “Before that. The first time.”
“Oh, you mean when the Dark One decided to fuck with your reality?”
