How to Slay a Dragon - Bill Allen [83]
Greg tried taking a quick peek ahead. The rushing air caused his eyes to water, but he was able to make out a faint glow ahead, more of a dark charcoal gray highlight to the otherwise black surroundings. The end of the tunnel drew near, and Greg thought his fate surely lay with the spirelings.
Terrified, Greg ignored the wind and fought to keep his eyes open. The brightness increased until he was convinced the cave mouth would surely pop into view around the next bend (a safe bet in the sense that the next bend was the same bend he’d been following all along). But then the light cut off abruptly, and when he rounded the final stretch, in the brief instant just before launch, Greg managed to make out not the open cave mouth ahead but the enormous face of a dragon. Ruuan had chosen that exact moment to peer through the opening, no doubt curious as to the source of so much racket.
Too late the dragon pulled back. The sleigh rammed into Ruuan’s heavily ridged forehead, splintering timbers in all directions. Greg felt as if he’d been splintered, as well. Blackness crept into the sides of his vision and flowed steadily inward until he could see nothing at all. This time his other senses refused to step up to the plate. He lay helpless, unable to move, as the world of Myrth slowly faded away.
When he came to, Greg lay face to face with Ruuan, though he’d have needed to be at least twenty paces farther back to realize it.
Why is that rotting piece of ogre meat wedged between those two stalactites? Wait . . . those are teeth.
Greg scurried back. Ahead, he spotted a small wedge of light. Given the choice between the dragon’s mouth and the cave mouth, he chose the latter to dive through.
Once his eyes adjusted to the bright moonlight, Greg saw the dragon’s limp form extending the length of a football field away from the spire. Throughout the valley the spirelings were still fast asleep. Even better, Lucky lay resting just a few feet away, his eyes half open.
“Lucky, you’re alive!”
“I am?” Lucky said with a groan.
“But how? What happened?”
Lucky tried to sit up, winced, and lay back again. “Ruuan came down the tunnel,” he said, gasping, “ran over me . . . dragged me along under his belly.”
“Whoa,” Greg said, bending down to check on him. “You’re lucky to be alive.”
Lucky nodded. He tried to give Greg one of his I-told-you-so looks, but it came out more like I-am? He took a moment to catch his breath and then said, “Good thing Ruuan was braking hard for the end of the tunnel by the time he hit me. Any faster and I would have been disintegrated on impact.”
“I can’t believe you weren’t,” Greg said. “All that noise . . .”
“What about Ruuan?” said Lucky. “Where’d he go?”
Greg realized Lucky was too close to the dragon to recognize what it was. “He’s right here . . . I think I killed him.”
Lucky peered up at the enormous mound beside him. “I wish I could die.”
“But Lucky, don’t you see? I killed Ruuan. It’s all over. You should be excited.”
“Inside I’m jumping up and down with joy,” Lucky said, wheezing. He forced himself to a sitting position and shook about a cup of dust from his ears. “Where’s Priscilla?”
If Greg’s eyes hadn’t already been filled with tears from the ride down the tunnel, they would have surely welled up now. “Still in Ruuan’s lair, if he hasn’t eaten her.”
“She’s still in the lair? But you were supposed to rescue her, and by the way I don’t think there was anything in the prophecy about you running Ruuan down with a wagon.”
In a moment of hysteria Greg nearly grinned. “Sleigh, Lucky. I ran him down with a sleigh. You might say I ‘sleighed’ him.”
Lucky frowned. “Are you making fun of the prophecy?”
“No, listen,” Greg said. “We’ve never actually seen it written out, right? Maybe we’ve been assuming too much.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Lucky said.
“No more than your silly