There Be Dragons

by Graham, Heather

  Michelo stared at him. And then he said, “Before God, I love her more than life itself! I will save Marina! I have the strength, and I will break free from these chains of evil, slay the dragon, and rescue my bride!”

  And with that, he burst free.

  “Old man,” Michelo said, “what words did you use that were finally the right ones?”

  “Oh, I just spoke gibberish,” Radifini told him cheerfully. “You spoke the words of magic! Love … emotion, the goodness in the heart and soul that is stronger than all else! Now—we must move quickly!”

  High upon the highest cliff, the sleeping Marina remained bound to the post.

  Thomasina, the falcon, had come to perch by her side, anxiously watching her.

  And then …

  The dragon appeared. It grinned an evil grin, for all had come to pass as the dragon desired, and the child of Nico and Elisia was there, for the taking.

  But when the dragon, with all its power and brilliance, strode out for the sacrifice, the falcon let out a shrill caw of challenge, stretching out her wings, flying forward, ready to skewer the dragon through with her claws.

  The dragon flew high, avoiding the talons.

  The dragon had long awaited this day. It did not intend its sure destruction of Marina d’Or be disturbed; the dragon intended to savor every morsel. And so, it intended to see to the destruction of this new foe first.

  The falcon must die.

  The dragon flew, soared, glided, and attempted many times to breathe fire upon the falcon, or to slam it to the ground. But the falcon was swift and fleet, and though heavily beset, she evaded every attack.

  Thus it was when the defenders arrived, Michelo in the lead, followed by Armand and Daphne.

  Following them, of course, were others. The brave Antonio, Michelo’s right-hand man, was there, back from the border as if he had known his mighty sword arm would be needed. Guards followed him from the castle, at his command—and because they had discovered their prisoners were gone. They were in confusion at first, for though Geovana and Carlo were not about, Pietro d’Artois was incredibly upset—if Marina was to escape, he feared for his own daughter’s life. Antonio simply meant to be a defender in the righteous battle undertaken by his friend Michelo. They all quickly saw it was time to stand and fight.

  As they reached the crest, Michelo drew forth both his sword and shield, anxious to rush forward and battle the dragon. But old Radifini stopped him, a hand upon his shoulder.

  “Marina first!” he said.

  “Old man, you must free her, as I fight the dragon,” Michelo said.

  To the amazement of all, Carlo Baristo, mounted on a great roan stallion, suddenly appeared on the cliff.

  “I will save her!” he cried. He dismounted, heading straight for Marina. “I will kiss the lips of my beloved, and save her from the dragon! I am the man to do so!”

  Now, they all doubted this very much. Carlo had been very angry with Marina, and if they had searched their hearts, all in Calasia would have known he had never intended to keep Marina as his bride for long.

  “She is my beloved!” Michelo called angrily.

  It was what Carlo wanted, of course. He smiled, and stepped forward, his sword swinging.

  The two began a terrible battle. Swords clashed; steel sparks flew. The others fell back, watching their great fight with one another.

  It was Daphne who noted the dragon was ignoring the two, and approaching the post where Marina slept, vulnerable to the attack.

  “The dragon!” she told Armand, and they both rushed forward, dodging the shots of fire the dragon breathed, Armand trying very hard to pierce the armor of its scales with his sword, Daphne punching with all her strength.

  The falcon, seeing everything in disarray and fearing the dragon’s triumph, rushed in, coming between Michelo and Carlo Baristo. She flew high, then low, wings flapping, talons grasping at Carlo, causing him to stumble back and fall.

  He, too, hit his head on a rock, and didn’t rise.

  “Is that fair, in magic?” Michelo asked softly.

  The falcon cawed.

  “The dragon, I must slay the dragon!” Michelo roared, seeing his friends at battle.

  “No, you must kiss Marina,” Radifini told him.

  “There’s a dragon to be fought!” Michelo protested.

  “She sleeps! You must kiss her,” Radifini argued. “Oh! When will you humans learn that love and compassion are far stronger than even the mightiest sword arm?”

  Though Michelo loved Marina more than he knew a heart could bear, this made no sense. But Radifini was insistent, and so he ran first to the post where Marina was tied. The dragon attacked as he did so, but Radifini, flapping his arms as if he were a deranged bird himself, ran to the dragon, hitting it with all his strength in the nose.

  The dragon roared, nearly singeing them all with its fiery breath.

  “Can’t you deliver a kiss quickly?” Radifini shouted.

  Though it was not at all the deep and binding kiss a lover would give, Michelo quickly brushed his lips against Marina’s.

  And she awoke. Eyes wide and beautiful, as blue as the sea, as blue as the sky.

  “Now fight the dragon!” Radifini begged, for the creature had drawn back, and pure evil and pleasure was in its eyes as it contemplated making a snack of Radifini.

  Marina, awakened, struggled fiercely with her shackles. Armand and Daphne, relieved from their fight with the dragon, hurried over to help her. Between them, they freed her, and they hugged briefly as she spoke her gratitude.

  But there, on the cliff, Michelo still fought valiantly against the dragon. Marina cried out softly, for the creature was very fierce, and it didn’t seem that Michelo’s sword was denting the scaly armor of the creature at all.

  “Rocks!” she cried. “We must all throw rocks!”

  They did. They created a fierce hail of stone, pelting the creature in a fury. It roared its anger, snapping here and there in a frenzy, yet held back by Michelo’s sword. He must have penetrated the dragon’s skin at some point, for flecks of blood flew from the dragon, and fell to the ground.

  Where the blood drops landed, the earth itself began to rise, and every little speck of blood writhed and inflated until it became …

  A wartroll.

  Marina cried out with horror, warning them all.

  And yet, as the newborn enemies advanced, the guards from the village at last began to arrive. So it was that the battle with the dragon became a great war, and the guards of Lendo realized at last that there was no appeasing such an enemy, and they began to fight. No man, woman, child, or even beautiful damsel in distress should ever be sacrificed to fear and tyranny.

  It was a wicked and desperate battle. Yet with pride and purpose, they all held their own, fighting with what weapons they had, swords for some, rocks for others, dodging, feinting—running!—when all else failed.

  Marina had gotten her hands on a sword and was very desperately fighting a wartroll herself when Radifini whispered in her ear, “Carlo lies there, beginning to rouse. You must go kiss him.”

  She was so stunned that she was nearly smote in two by the wartroll she battled. He had been right many times, but now, it seemed that poor Radifini had finally lost his senses.

  “Kiss Carlo!” she exclaimed. “I’d as soon kiss a toad!”

  With a lucky duck and blow, she was able to stop the wartroll who had so nearly done the dragon’s work of dissecting her.

  “Kiss Carlo. In life, there are times when we must kiss a few toads,” he said calmly. “Then we know them clearly, for what they are.”

  He was dear; she loved him. But poor Thomasina was flying about in a frenzy, attempting to be a distraction; Michelo was still so desperately fighting the dragon; and the battle was going on all around her.

  “Kiss him, quickly!” Radifini insisted.

  And so, she lowered her sword, rushed to the area where Carlo lay, and knelt at his side.

  H
e looked up at her, and she thought his eyes were evil, cold, and yellow-gold, like those of the dragon. And of his mother, Geovana.

  His anger erupted as he looked at her. “Did you think I would have ever let you serve as ruler with me? Always, Marina, you were intended for the wrath of the dragon!”

  “Kiss him, quick,” Radifini commanded at her shoulder.

  She shrugged. And she leaned down and kissed Carlo.

  To her amazement, he began to bubble. Yes, bubble. His whole body seemed to grow great bubbles, and she jumped back, away from him.

  The bubbles popped.

  And Carlo was gone. All that remained was a huge, ugly toad.

  A cry of fury rent the skies. The dragon roared, and the earth was set afire with a lightning strike of flame.

  The dragon rose high, high in the sky, and began a descent, speeding down toward Marina.

  Just in time, Michelo made it to stand at her side. He raised his sword. The dragon, so intent on Marina that it was blinded, soared straight into the tip of the blade.

  There was another huge and horrible cry.

  The dragon fell, causing the earth to tremble.

  Radifini came rushing forward, this time talking to Michelo.

  “Kiss it!”

  “I’ve kissed it with steel!” Michelo shouted.

  “No, kiss it!” Radifini said.

  And Marina and Armand and Daphne, and all the guards who had seen what had happened to Carlo, shouted out, “Kiss it!”

  Michelo, thinking they had all lost their minds in the frenzy of battle, bent over and kissed the dragon.

  Smoke, in a sparking puff of brilliant color, burst from the dragon.

  And there … soon, as the smoke began to clear …

  There were two. Two beings.

  Two—the dragon, quite unlike a horrible, mean, fire-breathing creature at all.

  Indeed, it was actually, quite adorable. Like an overgrown puppy!

  But by the dragon’s side, having split from its form, there was something else.

  No. Someone else. Someone who had taken over the form of the dragon.

  For the briefest of moments, they saw the true face of the evil that had threatened them. Not so much in magic now. But in hatred, vengeance, bitterness, and greed.

  Moaning, injured, in the midst of the multicolored mist, lay Geovana. Sorceress, witch, the things within her heart having made her the cruelest of enemies. She had walked with a smile so often, while jealousy and a coveting of others had ruled her every action.

  And then … Geovana began to bubble.

  “Back up!” Marina warned.

  And they all did.

  Bubbles grew and grew … and then there was a mighty pop!

  “Ugh!” said Armand, jumping back quickly to avoid being splashed by the wretched bubble brew.

  There, where Geovana had lain, there was nothing but another nasty-looking, injured toad.

  It let out a furious croaking.

  Then, the toad that had been Carlo croaked, as well.

  And both croaking in loud, dissonant tones, as if they argued still, they hopped off together.

  The wartrolls melted into the ground.

  “The Dragon in the Den! It’s really a sweet and gentle creature!” Daphne cried out.

  The dragon shyly lowered his head. His ears twitched, he blushed shyly, and he wagged what had once seemed a ferocious tail.

  Adriana, Michelo’s dear little sister, rushed forward, anxious that no one should now injure the creature. “Please … let the dragon go now! We’ve all seen! The kindest of creatures can be used by others … even in innocence. As we were all used!” she cried out. “Yes! We were used, just as the dragon. We let Geovana instill fear into our hearts, and make us behave as we never should have behaved!”

  Michelo picked up his little sister and swung her around. “She’s right! Everyone must let the dragon live in peace!”

  Atop the cliff, people began to cheer.

  The beautiful falcon flew over to where Marina stood with her beloved Michelo and friends. Together, they knew the strength of the wartrolls, and even that of the fiercest dragon.

  The great Fiorelli, having heard the news of the dungeon breaks and the terrible battle, arrived upon his horse, and with gladness and amazement saw what had been done.

  He dismounted from his horse and walked to where his weary son stood with the lady of his heart. He looked from Michelo to Marina and cried out, “A wedding, a wedding tonight! For Christmas nears, and we must make Christmas Day one of joy and thankfulness, and you two duly wed. Man and wife. We will celebrate a time of peace and wonder—and belief. You have proven that there can be no appeasing a dragon, that evil can wear a pleasant mask, and that belief and honor—and the courage to fight for what we love—is the greatest magic! And then we will all remember Christmas is a time for strength in belief, a time of love and goodness.”

  And so, Michelo kissed his soon-to-be bride. And that time, he kissed her as a lover should, and all around them was applause and the sound of cheering.

  When the kiss broke at last—by that time, many of the tired warriors were sitting and wondering if it would be over by sunset—Michelo turned to his father.

  “A wedding, Father? There must be two weddings!”

  And, of course, the great Duke Fiorelli turned to Armand and Daphne. “Yes, two weddings. And you, falcon master! Armand, you will take the title of the Lord of Baristo, and with Daphne, child of Pietro, and our very good friend, you will live in the castle, and bring peace and prosperity to all the folk there!”

  Again, there were cheers.

  Armand, not to be outdone, even by Michelo, kissed his soon-to-be bride.

  This time, the people cheered, but then groaned as the kiss went on and on, and they were forced to sit and wait once again.

  “Good heavens!” Radifini cried. “We will never get to these weddings!”

  And so, for the moment, the kissing was over.

  Before dressing for her wedding, Marina spoke tenderly and privately with the falcon, Thomasina, thanking her sincerely for all that she had done.

  Thomasina reminded Marina that she had never used her final wish.

  “Wishes are precious, and must be thought out with grave attention to detail,” Marina told her, smiling. “And I have thought … and what I wish now is that you are returned to all your strength, that you are able to be all that you want to be, just as you have enabled me!”

  “You are sure?” Thomasina asked her.

  “Oh, yes. You’ve taught us all that we must help ourselves, and one another, to make our wishes come true. There is nothing I want more than to share the happiness I feel.”

  Thomasina raised her wing and gently touched Marina’s cheek.

  “Leave me be then, child, and get ready for your wedding!”

  There had not been such rejoicing in all the territories of Calasia in years. By sunset, before moonrise, Marina was married to Michelo, and Armand became husband to his Daphne.

  Champagne flowed. People danced and sang.

  And the world itself seemed magic.

  Christmas Day came soon after.

  When she awoke, after the most magical days ever, Marina raced to the balcony of her new garden room at the castle of the great Fiorelli. (He planned to retire from being duke, leave the realm to his son and Marina, and take his wife on an extended cruise of the known world, until such time as they should return to play with the grandchildren.)

  To her astonishment, a falcon perched outside her window.

  “Thomasina?” she said, and she was startled, for there was no reply other than a blink of the eyes. Marina realized that, beautiful and wonderful, Thomasina was a falcon. Rare and precious in what she was, but just that, and nothing more. The magic within her was gone.

  Michelo came out to the balcony, and he drew her into his arms, startled by the tears in her eyes.

  “My love! It is Christmas Day. The church bells are ringing
, and we are together. We have our lives to live to bring to others what Christmas magic has brought to us.”

  “It’s just … the falcon, Michelo. We must care for her, my falcon, with the greatest tenderness, all of her days!” she told him.

  And he, surprised by her strange emotion, but touched by it, held her gently, and said, “We will love her, and care for her always.”

  Later that day, after the church service, a magical, beautiful snow began to fall. It was the most beautiful snow Marina could remember. And with carols filling the air and more feasting going on—it was really, really, a big celebration—Marina saw that Radifini was not alone. He was with an older woman, beautiful and regal.

  They appeared quite happy.

  They were giddy, in fact, like children, whispering to one another about magic and belief and all that kind of thing.

  As if aware that Marina was watching her, the woman looked up. She wore a strange, lovely smile of amusement, and Marina was suddenly reminded of the day she had found the falcon, when Carlo had been out hunting, when he had wounded the bird.

  At first, she had seen something … an animal.

  And then a woman …

  And when she had searched, she had found Thomasina. The gorgeous, magical creature that had claimed to be a fairy.

  The woman winked.

  And Marina smiled, and turned away. Yet, she paused again. For they were not the only happy couple to be seen together.

  Serafina had returned. And she was at the banquet table, seated beside Pietro. Her stepfather was beaming.

  Serafina was flushed and exceptionally beautiful, and apparently very pleased to be right where she was.

  And Pietro! For once, he seemed truly at ease. Marina realized that she had never really known him before; perhaps he had never really known himself. Now, he was free, as well. And being free …

  Well, he’d never actually been a bad man.

  Marina’s happiness increased. Sometimes dragons came into the world. But they could be fought, when there was love and courage and conviction. And sometimes, when such demons were bested, there was tremendous beauty to be found.