How to Slay a Dragon - Bill Allen [70]
Greg almost wished they’d slow down. Melvin had spent half the night teaching him dragon-slaying techniques until the two boys could barely stand. Now Greg’s muscles ached worse than they had that first night on the trail. He’d give anything for just a few more hours of sleep, especially if he could spend them home in his own bed.
But that wouldn’t help Priscilla, would it?
He crawled to his feet and forced himself to hurry like the rest of them. It was a good thing, too. Lucky was ready to stow the bedding, and Greg was in danger of disappearing into the magical pack.
A few hours later, at first break, Greg spotted the Infinite Spire through a gap in the branches. Hard to believe the tower could look even more formidable than it had from Fey Field.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Ryder said. The captain had been sharing stories with Greg all morning. He was an amazing man, who’d fought more monsters than even the make-believe hero from Greg’s journal, and Greg felt ashamed to think anyone might compare the two of them and think Greg was braver just because of some ridiculous prophecy. If they only knew how terrified he really was, they’d laugh Greg back to the castle, string up Simon and be done with it.
“Greghart?” Ryder prompted.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“The spire. Quite impressive, don’t you think?”
Greg fought to take in a breath. “It certainly is. How long till we get there?”
“Still over three weeks off, I’m afraid.”
“Three weeks? But it’s right there,” Greg said, pointing.
“I know, Greghart, but I suppose infinitely tall towers have a way of looking closer than they really are. Take my word for it. We’re still over five hundred miles away.”
“No, that won’t work. What about Princess Priscilla?”
“What about her?” Ryder asked.
“Maybe there’s a small chance Ruuan hasn’t eaten her by now, but you can’t possibly expect him to hold off another three weeks. Even if he did, she’ll die of starvation before then.”
Ryder glanced down at Greg sternly. “No, I’m going to have to disagree with you there. The prophecy says you’re going to rescue her, and I don’t think it would qualify as much of a rescue if she was dead when you got there.”
Greg knew there was no point reasoning with crazy people. “Ryder, do you know how I’m supposed to defeat the dragon?”
The captain’s face took on a more compassionate expression. “Sorry. I wish I did, so I could put your mind at ease.”
Greg frowned. “I doubt you could say anything that would do that.”
“Listen, Greghart, I want to tell you something. I’ve lived side-by-side with fighting men all my life, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s a soldier. Look at you, green as a garter snake, and about as big as one too, and yet here you are, who knows how far from your own world, hiking through the heart of the Weird Weald on your way to single-handedly tackle the mightiest beast the world of Myrth has ever known.”
It occurred to Greg that Ryder wasn’t any better at putting someone at ease than Nathan was. “So?”
“So? If that doesn’t show how astonishingly brave you are, I don’t know what does.”
Greg said nothing. He didn’t have the heart to tell Ryder he was only here because the others had forced him to come.
“And I saw you practicing those moves last night with the Greatheart boy,” Ryder said. “You’re pretty good. Fast as lightning, too. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if you could best a few of my own.”
Greg looked up at the captain doubtfully. “Yeah, well, they’re just men. How am I supposed to fight a dragon?”
“Ah, now see, that’s where you have a real advantage.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“No sir. You may be smaller than Ruuan, but you’ve got intelligence in your favor.”
Greg tried to imagine how this could possibly help. “Aren’t dragons supposed to be really clever?”
“Oh—um—right. Well, try to get a dialog going with him. Then he’ll at least appreciate the fact that you’re clever too.”
“Ruuan can talk?”
“Of course. And you’ll want him to. Remember, the more you can keep Ruuan talking, the less he’ll be shooting flames at you.”
Greg let his gaze drop to the ground so Ryder