Dragon Slayer

by Michael-Scott Earle

  My heart clenched. I’d risked everything in a desperate attempt to bring down Riamod and save the people of Whitespire, but it wouldn’t be enough. My plan would fail.

  At that moment, Riamod banked sharply upward and whirled in a tight circle. The movement set my head spinning, and I felt my grip on the dragon’s spines slipping. I tried to dig my fingers into the ridges of the scales, but it proved useless. With a sudden, terrible finality, I fell free of the dragon and plummeted through empty air.

  My heart flew into my throat as I fell. The fires of the burning palace seemed to reach smoky fingers toward me as if they sought to drag me down into their fiery depths. But through the thick clouds of noxious black smoke, I saw my salvation.

  A pennant hung from a flagpole that thrust outward from the corner of the flat rooftop. The cloth flapped and twisted in the night breeze, and I knew I’d have to time my grab just right. I angled my body so I could reach out for it, and I stretched my arms as far as I could.

  One chance, just one fucking chance.

  My fingers touched cloth, and I instantly summoned a thick ice shield around my hand. The pennant was caught in the sudden freeze, and I felt my downward motion arrested as the cloth pulled tight beneath my weight. I heard the metal flagpole groaning and the fabric beginning to tear, but it held me long enough to send me hurtling to the side, right toward the massive picture window that Riamod had destroyed.

  The flag tore just as my feet cleared the window, and the force of my swing carried me over the shards of stained glass. It took all of my coordination to land in a roll, but I felt a twinge run up my right shoulder as I slammed into the wall, but I managed to roll with the impact, and nothing else felt hurt when my body stopped spinning.

  “Well, you didn’t take down Riamod, but that was quite an amazing display of gymnastics.”

  “Thanks,” I coughed.

  The smoke within the palace had grown thicker, like a wall of toxic black that made it impossible to see anything for more than a few yards around me. I coughed again as the smoke seeped into my lungs and tried to peer through the blackness. Flames burned through the palace, consuming wood, carpet, cloth, and paper with a greed to match the dragon that had created it.

  I got down on all fours and drew a deep breath of the cleaner air down low, then I stood and sprinted toward the staircase that would lead me down. I counted heartbeats before I could summon the ice shield again, but instead of shielding my body, I formed the shields around my feet. I pushed off with my left foot and slid across the stone floor like I was ice skating. The flames licked at the surrounding air, but I was moving too fast to be caught.

  I heard the crash of collapsing roof beams, and I knew the third floor was going to crumble. I needed to get out of the palace now or it was going to be too late.

  My ice shield skates melted away, but I kept running, and my boots protected my feet as I pounded down the stairs toward the grand ballroom. The door was flung open, and the chamber was empty. Everyone had gotten out, and my way to freedom was clear.

  “Help!” The cry came from behind me and up the stairs, faint and weak.

  I slid to a halt with my foot hovering over the bottom stair.

  “Help me!” the call came again. It was a feminine voice that choked off in a cough. “Please.”

  My gut tightened as I hesitated. The fire had consumed the stairs behind me, and the smoke was so thick I couldn’t see more than two feet around me. The palace continued to crumble, with the roar of the burning flames punctuated by the crash of falling roof beams and sagging walls. Going back into that fire would be suicide.

  “Help us, please!”

  This time, the call came not from the palace, but from my memory, and an image flashed in front of my eyes.

  I stood at the bottom of a staircase, and fire raged all around me. The cries of “Help us!” came from two shadowy figures at the top of the stairs. Two figures I didn’t need to see to recognize.

  My mother and father.

  I tried to run up to help them, but the flames were too strong. My lungs burned with the noxious smoke and the skin of my palms sizzled as I touched the bannister. It took two firemen to drag me kicking and shouting out of the house seconds before it crumbled on top of my parents.

  Though everyone told me I had done what I could to help them, I felt like I had let my mom and dad down by not leaping into the fire to save them. That was the day I quit medical school and applied to join the Chicago Fire Department. That memory was the driving force that got me through every shitty day I faced during my training, and it kept me going when I faced challenges that seemed impossible.

  As impossible as this one. I had no turnout gear, no helmet or oxygen mask to protect me from the flames, just a pair of fireman’s boots and scorched trousers. But I had that DePaolo stubbornness, the determination never to give up no matter how crappy the situation looked. I had trained for this for the last year. I was the only person who could save whoever was trapped by the flames.

  “What are you doing?” Nyvea shouted as I turned and raced back up the stairs. “Are you insane?”

  “I have to help!” I said and coughed as the thick smoke filled my lungs.

  As I ran up the stairs, I listened for the call. It came again, barely more than a whisper. “Help me, please.”

  “I’m coming!” I shouted.

  I flinched back as a massive roof beam crumbled onto the stairs just ahead of me and winced as glowing embers spattered my bare chest and face. I gritted my teeth and summoned a shield of ice to form around my chest, like the breastplate I’d worn while hunting Frosdar. It would protect my skin at least long enough for me to rescue the victim.

  I pounded up the stairs and dove around the corner, just in time to avoid another collapsing roof beam. I stumbled onward and scanned the smoky hallway for any sign of the victim.

  “Call out!” I shouted. “Help me find you.”

  “Over here,” the woman said. Her voice was coming from a side passageway, not five yards from where I stood, and I covered the distance in two quick steps.

  There, lying beneath a heavy roof beam, was Princess Selene. Her pale skin was covered in soot, and fear sparkled in her eyes.

  “Princess! I’m here.”

  “Ethan?” she asked, and there was shocked surprise in her voice. “What are you--?”

  “No time to explain. We need to get you out of here now. The roof is going to cave in any second.”

  “I-I can’t move,” she said with a little whimper. “I can’t lift the beam, and I think it broke my leg when it fell.”

  I studied the roof beam. It was still smoking, and the top glowed red-hot, but thankfully the underside touching the princess’ skin was only blackened by soot. But I knew at a glance that I couldn’t lift it alone since the beam was easily twelve inches thick and nearly twenty feet long.

  Shit. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

  I went over all the lessons I’d learned about rescuing trapped victims during my training in the Fire Academy. In this situation, Rescue Squad would use one of those inflatable, compressed air-filled lifting cushions. I didn’t have anything like that, but I did have something that could work.

  “Take my hand,” I said as I crouched beside the princess, “and get ready for me to pull you out.”

  She took my left hand in hers, and there was strength in her grip. I did my best to shield her body from the sparks and heat as I thrust my right hand beneath the collapsed beam and counted eight heartbeats. The moment I felt the magic flood through my body, I poured it into forming an ice shield around my hand. But instead of pulling a solid shield into existence, I imagined it growing outward from my hand like I was blowing up a balloon. Arieste hadn’t taught me this, but she’d shown me how to create a shield away from my body. It took all my concentration to manipulate the ice in this totally new way.

  I let out a whoop of triumph as the dome of ice began to grow. It started off just two inches tall, the
n grew to three, four, and ten. I heard the groaning of timber as the ice slowly lifted the beam from off the princess’ lower body. The heat of the flames and the burning beam melted the dome, which forced me to add twice as much of the ice magic to keep it growing. Sweat streamed down my face as I focused on the effort, and I poured more and more of the icy power into forming the shield. Slowly and painfully, the dome grew to a full two feet.

  With a quick yank, I dragged the princess out from beneath the beam. She screamed at the pain in her leg, but her arms wrapped around my neck as I released the magic and pulled my right hand free of the ice dome. I scooped her up into my arms, turned, and raced down the corridor. I’d barely reached the staircase when I heard the crash of the beam collapsing behind me.

  I hurried down the steps as fast as I could, but a wall of intense heat blocked my way. I forced myself to remain calm, waited until I could tap into the ice magic, and then formed a dome around the princess and myself.

  Then I clenched my jaw and I leapt straight into the heart of the flames.

  The heat melted away the shield of ice in two seconds, but two seconds was all we needed to get through and down the stairs. I sprinted across the grand ballroom, down the main entrance hall, and out the double doors.

  The night air was cool and clean, and I drew in a ragged gasp of air before I set the princess gently on the ground.

  “Selene!” a soot-stained King Obragar cried as he saw his daughter and burst through his protective guards and raced toward her.

  “Father!” She threw her arms around him and wept.

  I stepped back and found my legs suddenly refused to hold me up. Every muscle in my body ached, and I felt as if I’d run the Chicago Marathon in full turnout gear. Before I sagged to the ground, Arieste appeared beside me, and she helped me to remain upright.

  “You’ve used your magic too much,” she whispered harshly in my ear. “Your body needs time to recover. Keep using it like this, and you’re going to kill yourself.”

  “Always the bloody hero,” Nyvea grumbled. “I’d hate to have that pretty body of yours ruined with burn scars, you know.”

  “I had to help,” I told Arieste as I leaned on her. “It’s my job to save lives.”

  “You might want to think about your own sometime,” she growled.

  “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

  Her face was angry, but I saw real concern in her eyes. She’d been worried about me.

  “You’re a hero too, you know?” I told her. “You saved a lot of lives tonight.”

  “Because you told me to.” Her pale cheeks went a rosy red, but she didn’t smile.

  “Ethan DePaolo of Grayslake,” the king’s voice came from behind me, and my gut tightened at the forcefulness of his tone. Could he know Riamod came to Whitespire because of me? The dragon had destroyed the palace in an attempt to rid Iriador of Frosdar’s power, and that same power now coursed through my veins. All this death and destruction was my fault.

  I nodded to Arieste as I straightened, and she let me go. With a deep breath, I turned to face the king.

  “Your Majesty, I—”

  The king threw his arms around me and pulled me into a tight embrace. “Thank you,” he whispered in my ear over and over.

  His reaction surprised me, and it took me a moment to realize that he wasn’t going to order my execution. He pulled free after a long moment, and his blue eyes fixed me with that burning stare.

  “You proved yourself a good man when you completed Sir Galfred’s quest but took no credit for Frosdar’s defeat. Tonight, you proved you are a true hero.” The king raised his voice to address the people clustered around the palace entrance. “For only a hero would race toward the danger when all others flee. Only a hero would risk his life to save others.”

  He gripped my hand, and I felt a little tremor run through his fingers. “Because of you, my daughter lives. She is the most precious thing in the world to me, and you put yourself at great personal risk to rescue her. You have my undying gratitude, both as her father and as king of Whitespire. Name your reward.”

  “Ask for a palace!” Nyvea whispered. “Though preferably not one that’s burning down. Teehee.”

  I ignored her voice. I hadn’t done what I did for a reward. It wasn’t the firefighter’s way. We were trained to risk our lives to save others, and I had followed my training.

  “All I ask is for a pair of horses and enough supplies to bring me to Riamod’s land,” I said.

  The king’s eyebrows shot up. “A horse and…?” His brow furrowed in confusion.

  “You yourself said Riamod is a curse on Whitespire, and that it has caused pain and suffering for centuries. I came here to put an end to the dragons. All I ask is that you give me what I need to do exactly that.”

  “You’re no fun, hero,” Nyvea said with a disappointed tone. “At the very least, ask for a beautiful girl or two to come along to keep you and Arieste warm at night.”

  I could feel Riamod retreating back west, toward her fiery lands. That meant she’d been wounded badly enough to flee. I needed to take advantage of her injuries to bring her down. I could reach her land in a couple of days of hard riding. I was going to put an end to Riamod once and for all.

  “Who is going with you?” the king asked. Sir God—”

  “I am,” said Arieste as she stepped up beside me.

  “What?” the king asked as he turned to face the pale, blonde-haired woman.

  “I’m going with Ethan.” Her face was stained by soot and her simple nightgown singed in a dozen places, but there was a fierce determination burning in her eyes. “I’ve just as much reason to want Riamod dead as you all.”

  Her expression left no doubt as to the true meaning of her words, but I knew that the king didn’t understand her true intentions. As Frosdar, she’d hated the fire dragon for five hundred years. It would take more than a few days of being human for her to be free of the anger and spite she felt toward her nemesis.

  “While I can appreciate your passion for justice,” the king said with a shake of his head, “I cannot allow you to go on such a fool’s errand ill-prepared. The Gray Hunters will accompany—”

  “No,” I replied in a forceful tone. “Just Arieste and me.”

  The king looked at me as if I was crazy, but I met his gaze without hesitation. He didn’t know the power I had at my command, so he thought I was just some muscled hero going to hack away at the dragon. But, after a long moment, he relented.

  “So be it,” he said with a nod. “You two will have what you need first thing in the morning.”

  “We need to leave now,” I told him. “The beast is wounded and distracted by pain. The journey will take two days at least, and I don’t want to give Riamod any more time to heal than I have to.”

  “Very well. See it done.” The king snapped his fingers, and a servant raced off to heed his command. “Once again, you have my thanks, and the gratitude of all Whitespire.”

  I nodded but didn’t say anything. Though their thanks felt nice, I wasn’t doing this to be appreciated. All I needed to do was turn and look up at the burning palace, and I knew exactly what led me to hunt down Riamod. The dragon had to be dealt with before more people died.

  And I was just the man to end her reign of fire and terror.

  Chapter Fifteen

  We rode hard for the rest of the night and into the next day, then stopped to make camp in the dense forest when the sun began to set. Neither Arieste nor I wanted to sleep that night. We were both too amped up for the challenge to come and our conversations turned to the subject of my magical powers.

  She spent an hour that evening explaining the dangers of overusing magic. Side effects tended to include exhaustion, blindness, organ failure, and even death. Pretty much everything short of erectile dysfunction, really.

  “Learn to recognize your limits,” she insisted. “Know when you have used too much and need to give your body a break.”

  Th
ere hadn’t been a noticeable moment when I felt I was overtaxing myself while fighting Riamod, but I hadn’t paid much attention. After Arieste’s lecture, I was determined to be aware of my use of power.

  Our lesson on magic quickly turned into another round of intense sex beside the campfire. Our lovemaking had a fresh, almost frantic passion to it. We both knew that we were going to do something incredibly dangerous, so we drank from each other’s lips and explored each other’s bodies as if it would be the last time.

  The next morning, we rode out in silence and pushed hard for a couple of hours until we reached Riamod’s sulfur-scented land. The sight of the burning and rocky terrain reminded me again of the massive serpent’s powers, and I made an effort to force the terror out of my mind. I knew what Riamod could do, and I had seen comrades fall to her monsters and breath. I had made light of this quest for the king’s sake, but one glance at the tightness in Arieste’s face told me we were both thinking the same thing.

  Shit was about to get real.

  Instead of riding west toward the craggy mountains, Arieste led us up to the north. We clung to the line of trees where we could duck out of sight if we felt the presence of any of Riamod’s minions, and I concentrated on the nagging sensation in the back of my mind that would warn me of danger. If I got even a hint that there were magic-made creatures nearby, we would enter the forest until they passed.

  That change in tactics would help us evade Riamod’s minions, but the red dragon would sense us long before we reached her lair. It recognized Frosdar’s magic coursing through me and was on the lookout for it. She had to know I’d be coming to deal with her.

  We’d covered less than a mile before the Mark of the Guardian warned me of danger. We pushed a few yards into the forest, dismounted, and waited. A troop of the tiny orange fire goblins trotted toward the south, and we made sure to turn the horses so they wouldn’t get spooked. There were nearly fifty of the goblin creatures and one seven-foot tall ogre-looking thing, but thankfully no rock trolls.

  Not for the first time, I reconsidered my decision to leave Adath and the other Gray Hunters behind. They’d wanted to join the hunt for Riamod, but I didn’t want to risk their lives. Now, facing such overwhelming numbers, I wished I had their swords to help me. The only weapons I carried were my fireman’s axe, a long sword, a dagger, and two small throwing hatchets. Arieste wore a thin rapier on her belt, but she handled it awkwardly.