Page 21 of Raising Dragons


  A big smile crossed Bonnie’s face. He’s alive! Praise the Lord!

  The slayer glowered. “Yes. Hold him there. I’ll be right down.” He put the radio away and turned back to Bonnie. “Looks like I have more work to do.”

  Bonnie knew she had to keep stalling. Would Billy never show up? She put on an innocent expression and spoke in the most childlike voice she thought she could get away with. “But why do you hate the dragons so much, Dr. Whittier?”

  He coughed and cleared his throat. “You might as well call me by my real name—Devin.” His tone softened, and he didn’t seem to be in any hurry. “Haven’t you ever read the Bible?”

  Bonnie drew in the snow with her finger, and she continued in her innocent voice. “Yes. I know it pretty well. We had lots of Bible stories in Sunday school.” Her simple lines in the snow created a fire-breathing dragon.

  Devin ignored Bonnie’s markings; he seemed absorbed in his explanation. “Then you may remember in Genesis about the demons taking human women as wives and creating a super race called the Nephilim. God hated them because they were pure evil, and he destroyed the world with a flood.”

  Bonnie began drawing a boat in the snow. “Noah’s flood? The one with the ark?”

  “Exactly. But the spirits of these mongrel creatures survived and had to choose a body to inhabit when the flood subsided. As you know, the serpent is the manifestation of the devil on the earth, so these evil spirits chose the dragons and possessed them.”

  “So dragons weren’t always evil?”

  “No, but they became nothing but evil. They may not have taught you this in your little Sunday school class, but the Bible says that the dragon is king over all the sons of pride.”

  Bonnie jotted down “Job 41” next to the dragon while still gazing at the snow. “How do you know they’re all evil? Maybe some dragons were possessed and some weren’t.”

  The slayer finally noticed Bonnie’s marks, and he wiped them away with a swipe of his hand, his hate-filled growl returning. “You think you’re smart, don’t you? Typical Demon Witch deception! You pretend to be young and innocent, but you’re no better than the full-blooded dragons. They lie out of their very nature, and Clefspeare probably lied to you about everything, too.”

  Bonnie’s ire shot into her eyes, and she shouted back. “He did not! He’s not a liar like you!”

  “Oh, really?” His voice changed to a mocking singsong. “He probably told you he was one of the good little dragons, didn’t he?” He gripped the sword hilt tightly and reverted to his normal voice. “I’ll bet he didn’t tell you how he killed a merchant just because he had no gold to give him.”

  Bonnie felt the wind’s cold chill and a shiver crawl across her arms. “Killed him for gold?”

  “As if you didn’t know! Dragons always lust after gold and jewels. They can’t get enough of them, and they go insane when they can’t satisfy their lust.”

  She stared at the slayer, her brow now creasing with more defiance. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Then let me tell you a story, Witch. The merchant’s name was Andrew, and Clefspeare knocked down a row of trees for him so he could build a wall. Andrew had no payment, so Clefspeare scorched him like a pile of old kindling, right in the village just outside Camelot.”

  Bonnie felt her breath catch, and her heart beat wildly. Could Clefspeare have done something like that? She knew her own mother, the great Hartanna, was good and noble, but she had heard stories of evil dragons, too. Didn’t her mother have reservations about sending her to find Clefspeare? Could he possibly be one of the evil ones? It sounded impossible, but the slayer’s presence seemed to bring into doubt everything she ever believed.

  She tried to keep her boldness from melting away. “Camelot? Wasn’t that way over a thousand years ago? How can you know what happened?”

  “I have my ways.” He stood and extended the sword with both arms. “You have no idea how high my power extends.” He pointed the sword’s tip toward the sky and then slowly lowered it toward the ground. “Or how deep my influence goes.” As the slayer followed the sword’s descent, he looked at his shirt and cursed. “The stone’s underneath,” he muttered as he pulled the candlestone out from beneath his shirt and let it dangle from its glittering chain. “Can’t leave it hidden. If your boyfriend’s still alive, he might show up.”

  The slayer’s theatrical sword display was obviously more than a threat; it somehow generated real power. Devin looked younger now, stronger, and the sword glowed with a streaming halo. The brightening candlestone seemed to drain Bonnie’s courage, absorbing strength from her muscles, even breath from her lungs. As she stared at its hypnotizing sparkle, she noticed a blemish on one facet, a dark red smear. Was it blood? Her blood?

  She tightened her chin and clenched her fists, not wanting to reveal her weakness. Through half-closed eyes, she looked at the slayer with disdain. “Well, I must say you have a flair for the melodramatic, Devin, or whatever your real name is.” She gestured toward the woods with a nod of her head. “But if Billy’s hiding out there somewhere, he could blast you from behind a tree, and you’d be a smelly mound of soot before you could wave that flashy sword again.”

  Devin glanced around and listened. Bonnie thought she heard something. A shuffling sound? Was someone coming? She knew this might be her only chance. “Billy!” she screamed. “Help!”

  The slayer clapped his hand over her mouth and nervously scanned the woods, whispering, “If you want your boyfriend to show up, keep screaming. You can die side by side.” After a few seconds of silence, he uncovered her mouth, and Bonnie held her breath, paralyzed, yet shivering. He used the candlestone’s chain to dangle the gem in front of Bonnie’s eyes. “Bannister can’t fight me. This stone will absorb his power, just as I’m sure you feel it draining your strength right now.” Bonnie grimaced and turned her head, closing her eyes tightly. The stinging pain was too much to bear, like a million pricking needles slurping her life’s blood.

  The slayer stood up again. “You can’t hide it, Demon Witch. You testify against yourself that you possess the spirit of evil. The virgin bride now meets her doom.”

  As he raised the sword, his coat sleeve slid on his arm to reveal the club-shaped mark on his skin, and his voice deepened into a growling rumble. “And since you think you know so much about the Bible, try this one, ‘This sword is sharpened, and it is furbished, to give it into the hand of the slayer.’” With a maniacal grin, he pulled the sword back, ready to swing.

  A loud cry of “No!” bellowed from a thicket, and a lightning stream of fire burst out of nowhere and encircled Devin’s arm. The flames engulfed his coat, and he flung the sword to the ground.

  Devin buried his arm in the snow and screamed. “Not again, you cursed pye-dog!”

  Billy dashed out of the woods, snatched Bonnie by the hand, nearly lifting her off the ground, and half carried her down the slope. They alternately stumbled and got back up again, and between sliding and running, they scrambled away. But how long could they stay ahead?

  Walter’s ears perked up. That was Bonnie screaming! He sprinted across the snowy mountainside, found a trail of footprints, and followed them, running with all his might. With a burst of energy, he leaped over a boulder and landed with a sliding stop. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He felt his heart skip two beats when he saw Billy’s stream of fire blast Devin’s arm. Billy really does have dragon breath! He then looked at Bonnie. She has wings? She’s the bat creature? Wow!

  Devin grabbed his sword and started after Billy and Bonnie. Walter snatched up the biggest, strongest limb he could handle and ran up behind the slayer. Devin stopped and glanced from side to side, apparently noticing the sound of footsteps coming from somewhere.

  Walter pulled the limb back and smiled. “Good night, Sir Devin.” He swung with all his might. Devin turned, and the limb smacked him square in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground. The wood in Walter’s hand cracked with the force of the
jolt, but he didn’t wait to see how badly he had injured his foe. He rushed down the slope, trailing Billy and Bonnie, staying far enough behind to keep from being noticed. For now, it was better not to reveal that he had learned his friends’ secrets.

  Walter watched Billy and Bonnie, keeping close behind and jumping from tree to tree, as they followed the long trails of footprints and tire tracks. When they approached an open, snow-covered field, Billy and Bonnie stopped and cocked their heads as though they heard something. Bonnie grabbed the lower hem of her sweatshirt, and Walter heard Billy’s voice protesting.

  “Wait! Don’t take it off! We’ll just stuff your wings back inside.”

  “I don’t have any choice. My wings won’t stay hidden with the holes back there. I have to turn my sweatshirt all the way around. Just close your eyes for two seconds.”

  Walter turned his head, and after a short pause he heard Bonnie’s voice.

  “Okay, I’m covered. Just help me straighten it all out in the back.”

  Walter looked again, and Bonnie was clutching the sweatshirt in the front, keeping the holes tightly closed. When the two came in sight of the base camp, several members of the search team started a huge buzz and called out to them.

  “Billy? Is that you? Bonnie?”

  Billy shouted, “Yes!” and with one arm fully supporting Bonnie’s weight from her left side, the two lumbered down the rest of the trail. Walter finally decided it was safe to show himself. He rushed up behind them and pushed his left shoulder under Bonnie’s right arm, lifting to bear half the weight. Billy’s look of surprise was followed by a broad grin. “Walter! Thanks, Buddy!”

  Walter had a hard time deciding where to hold on. He could feel the base of Bonnie’s wings, so he dodged them and slid his gloved left hand lower and around her waist, moving it under Billy’s supporting arm. With his other hand, he draped Bonnie’s right forearm over his shoulder and clutched her wrist.

  At least a dozen men and women came out to meet the trio, and they offered to carry Bonnie the rest of the way.

  “I’ve got her!” Billy assured them. He looked over at Walter hopefully. “You got her, Walter?”

  “Absolutely!” he sang, smiling back at Billy.

  Billy and Walter carried Bonnie down to a waiting ambulance and laid her faceup on a stretcher. An attendant covered her with several blankets and offered one to Billy. He gladly took it and wrapped himself in its warmth, and for the first time since the day before, he shivered, and shivered hard. The attendant distributed cups of hot cocoa, and Bonnie supported herself on an elbow to drink. Lying flat on her wings was obviously not the most comfortable position.

  Billy smiled down at Bonnie, and after a warm, steamy sip, she smiled in return. People in the crowd shouted out dozens of questions, and a couple of microphones pushed toward Billy’s face, but he didn’t want to answer right away; he was shaking too hard. For right now, he just wanted to stay with Bonnie and make sure she was all right.

  He looked around at the throng of people. “So, where’s my dad?” His voice quivered with his body, and his mouth stung from the fire-breathing episode, so he tried to keep his talking to a minimum.

  Several of the search team members stared at one another, and some shrugged their shoulders. Billy tilted his head, confused at the blank responses he was getting. “Bonnie said she heard on the radio that he was down here.”

  A patrolman stepped forward. “I can explain.” He put a hand on Billy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, son. We received a faxed photo that proved Agent Devin is really Dr. Whittier, so we made up that story to lure him down from the mountain.”

  “Agent Devin? What are you talking about?” The horrible realization crashed onto Billy like an avalanche. “You mean he’s not here? My dad hasn’t been found yet?”

  “No, son. But we’re still looking for him. We found your mother. She’s up there with the main search team. She’s fine.”

  Billy drooped his head. He felt a cramp in his throat, and he swallowed hard and let out a long relieved sigh. “Thank God for that.” He tried to compose himself and looked up again. “Can I go up there, too?”

  The patrolman smiled. “Could we keep you down?”

  Billy smiled back, feeling a surge of energy. “No way!” But he paused and turned toward Bonnie. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Can you keep them from examining you?”

  She nodded. “I’ll tell them it’s just my knee. That hurts more than anything.”

  Walter piped up. “Go on, Billy. I’ll keep an eye on Bonnie.”

  Billy beamed at his faithful buddy. “Thanks, Walter. I’m sure glad you came.” The two embraced, patting each other with manly slaps on the back. “Watch out for Dr. Whittier. He’s really out to get us.”

  Walter laughed. “Not any more, he’s not.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Walter posed as though he were ready to swing a baseball bat. “Remember how we used to have a contest to see how big a branch we could bust on a tree?”

  “Yeah. I remember.”

  “I used Whittier’s head for the tree.” He swung his pretend bat as hard as he could. “Pow!” he yelled, dropping his “bat” and laughing again. “I think I won our contest.”

  “Wow! When did you do that? You didn’t kill him, did you?”

  Walter shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know if he’s dead or not. I didn’t stick around to find out. Could be, I guess. I really let him have it.”

  The patrolman reached for his handcuffs. “You assaulted an FBI agent?”

  Walter lowered his chin beneath his coat collar and backed away. “But I saw him . . . uh . . . chasing someone with a sword. I thought he was after Billy, so I had to stop him.”

  The officer’s grim face burst into a smile. “Just kidding, son. Can you lead us to where you dropped him?”

  Walter let out a loud sigh. “I could find him, but I’m not leaving Bonnie’s side.”

  A new voice entered the circle. “So there you are, Mr. Foley! Where have you been?”

  Walter grinned and made a half swing with a new “bat.” “I guess you could say that I’ve been out taking batting practice, Mr. Hamilton.” Walter’s eyes brightened when he saw another new face appear behind his teacher. “Dad! When did you get here? Have you heard all the news?”

  “I got here a while ago, and the professor filled me in on everything. We were searching in the yellow zone and heard all the buzz on the radio and hurried back.”

  Mr. Hamilton surveyed the scene. “Mr. Bannister! Miss Silver! Welcome back!”

  Billy swallowed a big gulp of cocoa and wiped his mouth. “Thanks, Mr. Hamilton.” He nodded at Walter’s father. “Hi, Mr. Foley!”

  “Good to see you, Billy,” he replied. “You and Bonnie have had quite a night! How did you stay warm?”

  Billy glanced at Bonnie, smiled, and turned back to Mr. Foley. “We stayed on the move until pretty late, and then we found a sheltered spot to rest and gathered together a bunch of leaves.”

  Walter tugged on the teacher’s coat sleeve. “Mr. Hamilton. Can you and Dad stay with Bonnie while I show the police where Devin is?”

  “Yes! Of course! I overheard the part about the branch.” He punched the air with his fist. “Great going, old chap!”

  Billy laid his hand on Bonnie’s shoulder. “You won’t leave Bonnie’s side while I’m gone?”

  “Not even for a second!” Mr. Hamilton knelt down next to Bonnie and took her hand, clasping it tenderly. “I am yours, fair maiden, your knight in shining armor! My squire and I will protect you from every foul fiend.”

  Bonnie gulped hard to keep from laughing, and a radiant smile crossed her face. The patrolman laughed and raised the radio to his lips. “Sky One. This is Caruthers. Come in!”

  “Sky One. Go ahead, Caruthers.”

  “Meet me at the base field. I have Billy Bannister. Repeat. I have Billy Bannister.”

  Caruthers turned back to Billy and put an arm around his s
houlder. His voice cracked with emotion. “Let’s go see your mom!”

  Billy kicked a pile of snow, scattering it in every direction. He had kicked through a ton of snow already, and he had no idea what he was searching for any longer. The dogs hadn’t been able to find any new trails, he and his mom had picked through the wreckage three or four times, and he had already stacked all the Bibles he could find and covered them with a tarp. He still held a pocket Bible in his hand. He didn’t know why he was carrying it other than it just made him feel better.

  He stared gloomily at the twisted metal that was once Merlin. Now he understood the reason for the airplane’s name. Over a thousand years ago the real Merlin had taken away Clefspeare’s ability to fly, but his passion to soar through the heavens and look down over his domain never disappeared. This trusty plane had given the skies back to him, at least in a way.

  He looked over at his mother and mentally traced each worry line on her face. He missed her usual shining glow, the smile that burst forth every time her husband walked into the room. Billy caught a glimpse of the old radiance just a little while ago when he and his mom were reunited. Her smile was real, but not quite whole. She needed Dad.

  Billy, of course, was exhausted, but he dared not mention it. At least he was warm. On the way to the helicopter a kindly older lady had given him a fresh set of clothes and a heavy coat. They were all a little too big, but they felt heavenly, especially the shoes, a dry pair of mid-top hiking boots that fit pretty well with thick wool socks underneath. After getting his bundle of clothes he saw the lady wheel a wagon toward Bonnie. He guessed she was in for the same treat. Since he still had a blanket draped around him at the time, he changed on the spot, anxious to get out of his freezing, wet clothes.

  Up to this point, Billy had bottled up his emotions. He felt them trying to smash through; heart-breaking sadness, self-pity, and anger, especially anger. He thought if he allowed even one tear, everything would burst out at once. It would mean he had given up. It would mean he believed his dad was really gone. After all, if Dad was still alive there was no reason to cry; everyone else was safe, and Walter had probably stopped the slayer for good.