How to Slay a Dragon - Bill Allen [63]
Greg felt his anger rising. “So you did gather the falchions.”
“Did not,” insisted Melvin.
“I believe, young man,” said Nathan, “the evidence strongly suggests otherwise.”
“Who asked you?” said Melvin.
Greg closed in on the boy, furious. “Why’d you do it?” he demanded.
“What’s the big deal? I was just trying to scare you into going back home. It’s not right. My brother Marvin should be rescuing the princess, not you.”
“Oh, this is good stuff,” said Bart. “I know I’ll have to change even more lyrics, but imagine my songs when I’m through.”
Greg didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t believe Melvin was responsible for all the terrible things that had been happening to him. “You could have killed me.”
Melvin stared at Greg defiantly. “If you’re supposed to be this great dragonslayer who can do no wrong, like everyone says, then who am I to mess things up for you? How could someone as powerful as the Mighty Greghart be hurt by little ol’ me?”
“Look,” said Nathan, “you boys are going to have to settle this between yourselves another time. Now that Ruuan’s got Priscilla, we need to hurry to the lair.”
“Priscilla?” said Melvin. “You mean Penelope.”
Tears flushed the dust from Greg’s eyes. “Hurry? Did you see how fast that dragon flew? By now Ruuan must be back at his spire crunching on Priscilla’s bones.”
Melvin let out a derisive snort. “How do you guys put up with this? Hey, troll head, did you forget about the prophecy? How are you going to rescue the princess if Ruuan’s already eaten her? Really, you call yourself a hero?”
Greg shot him a nasty look. He hadn’t liked the little brat much even before he found out Melvin was trying to kill him.
Nathan’s expression turned grim. “I know, Greg. I don’t see how she could possibly survive for long with a creature like that, but if there is even a slight chance the boy is right, we had best hurry.”
“I’m not a boy!” said Melvin. “I’m going to be a great dragonslayer one day, just like my brother, and my father, and his father before him.”
“Perhaps you will,” said Nathan, “but right now you’re about an inch away from getting your hide tanned by my staff. Now, I think you better come with us. I’ll trust you more where I can keep an eye on you.”
“Fine,” Melvin huffed. “I’m not afraid to go to the dragon’s lair. I’ll show you how to handle a beast like Ruuan. Then everyone will know who the real dragonslayer is.”
Greg exhaled a shaky breath. He hated the thought of Melvin traveling with them, but as Nathan pointed out, it might be worse if the boy were loose in the forest. Besides, what could Melvin possibly do that was any worse than what was waiting for Greg at the end of his journey?
The end of his journey.
How much more that expression meant now. Before this moment, Greg had always thought of the end of his journey as the day when he would talk sense into the others, that magnificent day when he would be sent back home, well before he ever laid eyes on the dragon.
But it hadn’t happened that way, had it? He’d already seen Ruuan, and the dragon was more terrifying than anything even someone as experienced as Greg could have imagined.
Now Ruuan had Priscilla, not Penelope, and in spite of all his fears, Greg knew he must help. Perhaps he stood no chance against the dragon—okay, there was no perhaps about it—but the thought of Priscilla struggling under Ruuan’s grip still burned in his mind.
He knew one thing better than he had ever known anything in his life. Hero or not, he could never leave her to such a fate without at least trying to save her.
“Keep moving,” Greg said, his voice hollow but determined.
“No,” said Nathan, “it’s too dangerous. We will have to stop until morning.”
Where previously his evening chikan sessions had been nothing more than a fun pastime, tonight Greg paid closer attention