How to Slay a Dragon - Bill Allen [78]
“You can tie this to the front of the wagon,” Lucky suggested, and then, after a very brief lecture on the difference between wagons and sleighs, Greg secured the rope to the front of what was clearly a sleigh, grabbed the torch from Lucky’s pack to light their way, and the boys heaved with all their might.
The sleigh didn’t budge.
“Lighten the load,” Greg ordered, and Lucky jumped into the bed and started hurling away supplies.
With the sleigh empty, the boys were able to free it from the dusty soil and slide it onto the glassy tunnel floor. Still the incline was steep, and they tired quickly. If they eased up for even a moment the sleigh dragged them back down the slope in spite of their sticky boots. They had to alternate their breaks, one bracing against the full weight of the sleigh while the other rested.
Greg had stowed Nathan’s staff in Lucky’s pack, but he still had the added difficulty of trying to hold the eternal torch with one hand while he pulled, using it to inspect the tunnel walls for some sign of the Passageway of Shifted Dimensions. According to Hazel the tunnel was undetectable, but still he searched. If he admitted the impossibility of finding the passageway, he might as well give up now.
Wait.
Oh, yeah, Priscilla.
After what seemed like hours, Greg was too exhausted to go on. Of course, the same could have been said when they started off, but now he was also beginning to notice the heat. Hopefully he was just overexerted, because the alternative was too terrifying to contemplate. He slowed to a stop, panting.
“I don’t think I can go on,” he told Lucky. “And as much as I hate to say it, I don’t think we have much time left on the fireproofing spell.”
Lucky nodded, the cords of his neck standing out under the strain.
Greg’s arms threatened to pop out of their sockets. “Just out of curiosity, if you burst into flames at any point, is it okay if I assume the prophecy was wrong?”
“It’s not wrong,” Lucky said, but even he seemed uncertain.
Though neither boy dared mention it, Greg knew their next break would be their last. Sure, they could abandon the quest, try riding the sleigh out, but then Priscilla would be lost.
“Go ahead, rest,” Lucky told him. “You need it more than I do. I haven’t had to carry the torch.”
“Thanks,” Greg said. “You sure you can hold it?”
“I think so. Ease off slowly.”
Relief surged through his body as Greg eased off the rope and shook the tightness from his arms. Lucky’s arms were shaking so violently Greg could barely bring them into focus, but the sleigh stayed put, at least for the moment. A diamond-shaped object, roughly the size of a shield, lay on the floor of the tunnel ahead. Greg picked it up and admired its leathery smooth feel.
“What’s that?” Lucky groaned.
“Don’t know,” said Greg. “Here, you look.” He traded places with Lucky one last time, his arms protesting from the strain as Lucky took the object and inspected it.
“Well?” Greg grunted.
“It’s a dragon’s scale,” Lucky told him. “Must have fallen off Ruuan on his way through here.”
“Too bad he’s not here now,” Greg grumbled. “Maybe he would carry us up to the lair if we asked nicely.” He felt the rope begin to slip through his fingers and strengthened his grip. “I have an idea. Try wedging that scale under the runner of the sleigh.”
Lucky walked behind the sleigh and did as Greg asked. “Try easing up on the rope.”
Greg didn’t need to try. The rope was already slipping through his fingers. The sleigh held at first, but then the scale slipped on the glassy floor and kicked loose, nearly jerking the rope from his hand. Greg screamed. He threw his weight into it and managed to stop the sleigh before it ran over Lucky, who stood scratching his head, confident his talent would keep him from being flattened.
“Okay, I have another idea,” Greg said.
“Is this one as likely to get me killed?” Lucky asked curiously.
“Check and see if there’s any dragon spit left,” Greg said as he strained against the rope.
Lucky plucked the black