"You have to say 'Mel-ar Regnio!' for that wand to work," Galanor said, cleaving another monster that tried to attack them.
Lilia blinked, then gripped the wand and moved beside Galanor to get a clear shot.
"Mel-ar Regnio!" she shouted, but something unexpected happened. She felt the charge of electricity under her hands; the charred wand began to wave about as if of its own accord. Instead of releasing a solid bolt in the direction she pointed, it began to send scattered beams this way and that into the air, some hitting the monsters, others shot straight into the air. "Yaiee—ch!" Lilia wailed, as electrical jolts snapped in her hands and shocked her.
Galanor looked over his shoulder and slapped his forehead. "You've got it pointed in the wrong direction," he commented, then thrust back his sword, gutting a monster behind him.
Lilia rolled up her sleeves, turned the thing around, and began to incinerate their monster assailants.
* * * * *
Dylan had not been asleep long when Ronan shouted. He jumped up and grabbed his sword just in time to stop the young two-foot long chamaelaeon that was about to take a bite out of his leg. Dylan thrust the sword into its back, holding its head down with one boot while he pulled out his sword.
Blood oozed out of the rend in its head as Dylan kicked it over, a stream running out onto the ground. Dylan deftly avoided it, but came face to face with a giant brubachwyc. A horde of young chamaelaeons surrounded him. Having failed in making a meal of his leg, they now clawed at his chain mail, too stupid to know that their efforts produced nothing. Dylan's mail shirt was tight, the rings finely crafted. Their claws slipped over it.
The brubachwyc was far more clever. With Dylan detained, it glared at him, ready to strike.
An axe sang in the air above it, twirling end over end before cleaving the brubachwyc's head in two like a piece of fruit. The brubachwyc wailed, then crashed to the ground with a mighty thud.
"Away, you disgusting things—" Dylan shouted and raised his arms, batting away the chamaelaeons with blows from his sword. Mygdewyn appeared behind the brubachwyc and pulled out his axe.
"I saw the brubachwyc in that sudden burst of light," Mygdewyn said, his white teeth still bright enough to see in the dimness. "I decided it was worth a chance," he added.
"Good aim," Dylan nodded gratefully and stooped down for his pack. He wondered if he would have time to light a torch later. Probably not. He still wanted to know what kind of creature had made that first mournful cry, but not now. Not before their assailants were safely dead. "What was that?" he asked, turning around. A sudden light had flashed behind him.
A moment later, they saw bright sparks of lightning coming from the direction of the look-out tree. In the light it created, Dylan realized that the creatures were beginning to run away from the light and toward him and Mygdewyn.
But he couldn't worry about that; something else was slithering nearer, his senses warned him. Dylan stopped, straining his ears. He turned around at the sound of thunderous steps approaching them, coming from the same direction as the brubachwyc had moments before.
Dylan turned just in time to face the glare of two wide-set reptilian eyes. The head of a great black creature now rested on the ground only a few feet away. The eyes of the black creature narrowed maliciously, and Dylan detected the creature's slow grimace as the head lifted, the jaws widening.
Dylan reached into his shirt desperately and clutched a silver branch, still held against his rapidly-beating heart.
"Galadon Dragor Brio!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, grabbing Mygdewyn with the hand holding his sword and pulling him into the enveloping spell. The dragon's teeth clinked off the Invulnerable Dragon Shield as off an enormous turtle shell, and the surprised creature opened its eyes.
Mygdewyn looked up uncertainly. The young dragon's jaws unhinged like a snake's as it made an attempt to swallow them whole, Dragon Shield and all. But as the dragon's mouth approached them, the shell of the Dragon Shield grew, preventing the creature from eating them. Dylan sighed, temporarily relieved, and beads of sweat cascaded down his temples.
The dragon narrowed malevolent eyes on them, irate at being thwarted.
"H—hh—how long do you suppose this spell will last?" Mygdewyn stuttered.
"I don't know," Dylan said. "Aiovel didn't say how long it would hold. But it's supposed to be powerful magic, and the other spells she mentioned lasted at least a day."
"Well, whatever you do," Mygdewyn swallowed. "Don't let go of that wand."
"How do you know that will make any difference?" Dylan said.
"Let's not find out if it doesn't." The dwarf persisted.
He made a good point. Dylan nodded, but his grip slackened anyway as they were jarred by a blow from the dragon's tail. Dylan squeezed the wand tighter. The Dragon Shield appeared steady, much to his relief.
The dragon eyed them in irritation, its great gleaming pupils flashing. Suddenly they found themselves drawn in between its claws. The dragon squeezed them tightly, Dragon Shield and all, as it began to beat its wings and lifted into the air. Dylan and Mygdewyn were carried above the fog up into the pale pre-dawn light.
The first time Mygdewyn opened his eyes since the dragon took off, they were flying over rivers and fields of green cascaded by the morning sun. The Dragon Shield remained invisible under their feet, leaving the impression that they were suspended in mid-air below the dragon's claws.
Ahead on the horizon, amid mists and low-lying clouds loomed the snow-capped peaks of a long, black mountain range.
* * * * *
Lilia heard the heavy sound of flapping wings, and motioned to Galanor and Ronan. Slowly they made their way to the source of the sound, but found no sign of any of the others or whatever had made the flapping noise.
"Look!" Ronan shouted, peering into the dim light of pre-dawn. "There, up ahead!"
Galanor looked further ahead in the direction they were going. Reinforcements of unnatural monsters were coming toward them from the looks of it, now that the companions had destroyed the other monsters.
"How much magical energy is left in that wand?" Ronan asked, watching the second legion of monsters, who had seen them by now and broken into a run toward them.
"Not enough!" Lilia shouted, eyeing the fast-approaching creatures. "Time to get out of here!" She said, turning right and charging away over the plains to the south. Ronan and Galanor shrugged, then followed fast at her heels.
* * * * *
Dylan held fast onto the Wand of Elwellyn magicians. Still the Dragon Shield spell had not broken, though an hour or more had passed as the dragon flew holding them. Finally the dragon slowed and began to descend, heading to a dark natural cave in the sheer side of a black mountain.
They left daylight far behind. Inside the twisting passages, the darkness blinded them. But the dragon flew on unerringly. Here and there flickering flames appeared to either side, illuminating sparkling jewels that protruded from the face of the rock tunnels. The light cast horrific reptilian shadows that grew and shrank as the dragons puffed flames that died out.
Dylan heard low snores coming from all around; apparently, the shield didn't protect them from sound. Ahead of them, the light began to grow. Now that his eyes were growing somewhat accustomed to the dimness, Dylan saw the main dragon-passage widening, now large enough for several dragons to pass them by.
Or so he guessed. It was impossible to gauge their dragon captor's size in relation to other dragons. Dylan hadn't seen any of the others yet, though he feared that he was about to.
Finally, the passage widened into a great hall. A great black dragon lay on a pile of new, cracked bones, jewels, and gold, mingled with the dust of ancient skeletons. His coal black, sharp-edged scales overlapped like plate mail, but without reflecting the light. How fortunate for the dragon!
Dylan thought, now studying the dragon above him, whose scales were much the same. No doubt black dragons had a great advantage in the dark; not even the light of other dragons' flames could disclose a black dragon's location.
Dylan stiffened and braced himself as the dragon holding them dropped them before the enormous creature. Mygdewyn shuddered violently as they stopped rolling and came to a rest before the pile of bones.
Dylan heard a rumbling sound as the great dragon swung its head at them, its large black and yellow eyes like the waning moon effectively paralzying the young prince with their chilling expression. Then the dragon suddenly stopped glaring at the man and dwarf to listen to more low rumblings from the young dragon who had brought them. In a moment, the large dragon's expression turned pleasant, at least as pleasant as a large dragon could be. His mouth gaped open, drawn into a hideous smile; his teeth, like thick swords, hung darkened and stained from blood and rotting flesh.
The dragon raised its foreclaw in anticipation, ready to bat them until Dylan let go of whatever protecting talisman it was that he held. Dylan knew there was a real chance that he might be worn down by the spinning, and decided to risk using another spell.
Their companions would never find them now. Dylan knew that the only thing for him to do was to try to talk his way out of this mess. This dragon seemed fond of treasure, as all dragons reputably were. Dylan only hoped he could entice the creature with promises of his father's treasure in Dunlaith.
"Arcaen Ellera," Dylan said softly and waited to see if the magic spell worked.
"What are you doing?" The dwarf asked, speaking for the first time since they'd been taken airborne.
"Just relax, Mygdewyn," Dylan whispered, satisfied at least that the spell of invulnerability still held. "I'm trying to figure out a way to get us out of here." He said, looking back at the large dragon. The dragon had waited, eyeing their interchange curiously, as if wondering why they ignored him.
They were not showing the appropriate sense of fear!
The dragon turned to the younger dragon that had brought the captives to the lair.
**You say these two somehow made it all the way to the northeastern monster trail?** the regal black dragon inquired.
Dylan swallowed his surprise at the effectiveness of his spell. Though he had been forewarned that he would understand ancient languages through the magic of the spell, it nonetheless seemed very, very strange to him. The deep rumblings hadn't changed; only now, they made perfect sense!
**Yes, my King,** the young dragon answered. **The first of their kind I have ever seen in our territory.**
**My territory,** the King of the black dragons corrected primly.
**Forgive me, my lord. Of course, your territory.**
**Um, excuse me.** Dylan decided to interrupt. The great dragon paused, stupefied, then looked down at them and blinked for the first time.
But the Dragon King was not the only one to be surprised. Beside Dylan, Mygdewyn shook his head in wonder. The words Dylan had spoken were not the low rumblings of the dragons, but they were clearly understandable to the dragon race, and somehow familiar to the dwarf, even though Mygdewyn couldn't understand the language. Where he had heard the like of it before he couldn't remember now.
**Who are you?** the Dragon King suddenly bellowed, seeming to cover up a momentary loss of words. Wait a minute, Dylan thought. Their captor had called this one King. So, this creature was Scathaechir? Dylan suddenly realized.
**I am Prince Dylan of Dunlaith, your majesty,** Dylan began, bowing deeply to show his respect. Culan's lessons in etiquette had not been a waste of time, after all. The Dragon King seemed at least a little pleased by Dylan's humility, their predicament notwithstanding. They were the King's captives, but that didn't mean Dylan was exempt from the traditions of royal courtesy.
**Forgive my companion and me,** Dylan continued, **but we did not know that we had traveled into your kingdom, your majesty. We were only seeking passage to the eastern lands. If you will only let us go, we would gladly return to our homes in the west and find another way to reach our destination.**
The dragon began to tap his claws on the ground, another grimace curling back his lips, revealing his rotten teeth. Dylan was glad that the spell of invulnerability also protected them against the dragon's foul breath. He couldn't quite work out how he was able to hear and not smell his surroundings, but then again, magic wasn't inherently logical.
**And why would I release you?** the dragon demanded. **You who have trespassed into my domain? Other, greater creatures have done so, and have never left this cave.**
**As a Prince of Dunlaith, I can offer you great wealth,** Dylan replied.
The dragon blinked uninterestedly. **Ah. Petty promises now, is it? And why should I trust you to bring it to me, young human? Nevertheless, I am intrigued. You do not seem a foolhardy, mindless worm like the rest of your kind.** Scathaechir paused. **Therefore I might consider granting your request, if you can answer me one question. How is it that you speak to us in the ancient Dragorian language?**
Dylan hesitated to answer. He had no reason to believe that the dragon King would let them go, even after Scathaechir had considered doing so. Worse, if he spoke the truth, Dylan was afraid to remind the dragon about the wand protecting them with its spell of invulnerability.
Yet for now it seemed Dylan had piqued the ancient dragon's interest, and that wasn't likely to be something very easy to do. If Dylan refused to explain, there was always the chance that the dragon would bat their Dragon Shield until it cracked, but as Scathaechir had already turned down Dylan's offer of wealth in exchange for freedom, Dylan felt he had nothing to lose by refusing to answer. At the very least, the dragon's curiosity might keep them alive.
When Dylan remained silent, the Dragon King eyed him impatiently. Then, after a moment, he gave a deep roar, something Dylan suspected approached laughter—derisive laughter.
**Well, young prince, I have plenty of time to draw your secret out of you. Keep silent if you will, but how long can you hold on to your spell before you fall asleep? Fatigue is one weakness of your kind. Only remember, the longer you wait, the less likely I am to let you go instead of making a meal out of you.**
Dylan could hardly believe it! His gamble had worked this time! But who knew how long his luck would hold?
* * * * *
The sun had risen. Gil stumbled along, following fresh tracks away to the south. A great horde of monsters had gone that way, diverted from their western trek. Gil reasoned that the monsters were in pursuit of his companions, but he had a long way to go before he caught up to any of them. Here and there lay the tell-tale bodies of slain monsters beside the path, charred to ruins no doubt by Lilia's stolen wand.
Gil kept looking back, wary in case more monsters appeared, but also on the look-out for Aiovel. By noon there was still no sign of her, and Gil's stomach growled fiercely after the exhausting battle. He dared stop only briefly to take out a piece of hard tack from his pack, the last one he had. He ate it hungrily, aware that the others may not have had time for lunch, assuming they had not been lunch—
Gil swallowed, and the hard tack stuck like glue in his throat without any water to wash it down. Suddenly, he stopped. The monster trail had come down to one large set of tracks, then turned rapidly west again, disappearing five minutes down the trail.
Back at the fork in the trail, the deep imprint of Ronan's staff marked the abrupt end of his companion's march. But there was no sign that a struggle had taken place. If his companions or the last creature had been victorious, there should have been a trail of one or the other of them leading away.
Whatever it was, it had some large footprints, Gil shivered.
Gil continued south past the trail, hoping to find signs of his friends, but there were none. After an hour, the ground ahead sloped upward near two large, dee
p-rooted trees. Gil felt his steps slowing, and with an effort charged up the incline. He stopped just inches short of a hundred foot decline.
He peered ahead to make sure the others hadn't fallen below. But he wasn't used to the dangers out of doors, and as he stepped nearer, his foot slipped on a tree root and lost purchase; he was sent tumbling forward feet first down the jagged hillside, while his arms clutched wildly behind him for something to hold onto. His hand caught a stone jutting from the side of the steep hill, and it broke his descent further down the side. Yet his hands were scratched and throbbed painfully as he held on, certain he would last only a few more seconds.
**What is that?** a loud voice sounded below. The voice shook the hillside and Gil suddenly slipped, letting go of the stone. He tumbled down, landing squarely onto a large, shiny green, reptilian head. As the head moved, Gil slid down the neck, scrambling to find a grip on the enormous, smooth-skinned dragon who had inadvertently caught him. Gil fell to the ground with a definite thud and then stood, rubbing his sore posterior. He spied several other green dragons nearby in the great glade of trees surrounding them; a few were swimming in the small, rocky river that cut through the forested glen.
Then Gil looked up. The large dragon blinked and opened its jaws, and Gil jumped back.
**Wait, don't eat me!** he cried, drawing his sword. The dragon's gaze fell upon the blade, and it stepped back as though avoiding hot coals, its shuffling feet making hurried but deep prints into the soft soil.
The dragon cringed yet glared at Gil with great, faceted emerald eyes. It was, actually, quite a remarkable creature, Gil realized— long, sinuous, and surprisingly dexterous.
**So, you've come to kill me, eh, small one?** It said finally.
**N-no,** Gil stuttered. The dragon looked at him with a mixture of sudden curiosity and vestiges of anger.
**Then explain your weapon, human. You wield a magic sword of Inverlen, the only sword that can kill a dragon. You expect me to believe you didn't come here to kill me with it?** It leaned forward a little, angling its short foreleg toward Gil as though preparing to swipe at Gil. **Well, you may be protected from my fire and breath with that thing, but it can do nothing to help you against my claws.** And with that it raised its arm, extending cat-like claws as great as spears.