How to Slay a Dragon - Bill Allen [91]
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” said Greg.
Ruuan regarded him doubtfully.
“I know it sounds crazy, but everyone around here has been convinced I was going to defeat you from the start. I think they’d actually be more shocked if I didn’t slay you.”
“HMM, I STILL DON’T KNOW,” said Ruuan.
Greg groaned. “Now what?”
“WELL, JUST BECAUSE EVERYONE WILL THINK THE PROPHECY HELD TRUE DOESN’T MAKE IT TRUE, YOU KNOW. THERE’S STILL AN ISSUE OF INTEGRITY HERE. WE DRAGONS HAVE ALWAYS LIVED BY A STRICT CODE OF HONESTY AND ETHICS.”
Greg’s mind raced. “That’s very admirable,” he said, “but I think I can help you there, too.”
“REALLY? PRAY, TELL ME HOW?”
Greg wasn’t sure if Ruuan had said ‘pray’ or ‘prey’. Either way he knew he better come up with something good. “Well, as I was telling my friend Lucky earlier—”
“WHO’S LUCKY?” Ruuan interrupted.
“The boy you brought up here with me.”
“DOESN’T SOUND LUCKY. BESIDES I DON’T RECALL SEEING ANOTHER.”
“Well, there was. He’s right in there,” Greg said, pointing toward the cell where the others stood in the shadows, watching helplessly.
“REALLY? TWO OF YOU? MY, YOU HUMANS ARE TINY THINGS.”
“Yes, well, as I was saying, I was telling Lucky that I have, in a sense, already slayed you.”
“OH, REALLY. HOW DO YOU FIGURE?”
“Not slay, s-l-a-y, but sleigh, s-l—well, whatever. I hit you with a sleigh down at the bottom of the tunnel and knocked you out.”
Ruuan’s expression darkened. “SO, THAT WAS YOU. YOU KNOW THAT REALLY HURT.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“I ASSUME IT WAS AN ACCIDENT?”
“Yes, of course.”
Ruuan nodded, leaving Greg with a disturbing sense of vertigo. “SO, TECHNICALLY YOU BELIEVE YOU HAVE ALREADY FULFILLED THE PROPHECY.”
“All except for rescuing the princess,” Greg said.
“AND I CAN HELP YOU THERE,” Ruuan whispered. The dragon seemed to ponder for a moment. “IT MIGHT JUST WORK. YOU WOULD JUST NEED TO GIVE THE SPIRELINGS BACK THEIR AMULET SO THEY COULD CONTINUE TO GUARD THE PASSAGEWAY—”
“Hold on,” said Greg. “I can’t do that.”
Fire blasted from Ruuan’s nostrils. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, CAN’T?”
Greg barely dodged the flames. “I-I promised Witch Hazel I’d bring the spirelings’ amulet back. It was part of my agreement with her for letting me live. If I don’t—well, I don’t know what she’ll do, but she’s a witch. I’m sure she’ll do something.”
“THAT WITCH!” said Ruuan. “SHE’S BEEN A THORN IN MY SIDE AS LONG AS I’VE KNOWN HER. TELL ME, WHAT WAS YOUR EXACT AGREEMENT WITH HER?”
“My exact agreement?”
“YES, THINK BACK. WHAT WERE THE EXACT WORDS YOU BOTH USED?”
“Well, I don’t know that I can remember the exact words.”
“TRY,” Ruuan said, allowing a wisp of smoke to drift out one nostril. “PRETEND YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT.”
“Oh, right. Well, let’s see . . .” Greg found it difficult to concentrate with a three-hundred-foot-tall dragon looming overhead. The fact his life depended on it did little to help. Still he tried his best to remember. “She told me to get the amulet from the magical passageway,” he said, “and then I was supposed to take it and the one she gave me back to her shack in the Shrieking Scrub.”
“ARE YOU SURE THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT SHE SAID?” Ruuan asked. “THINK. THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT.”
Greg closed his eyes and tried to remember Hazel’s exact words. Ruuan’s putrid breath drifted across the cavern, lifting Greg up on his heels, but he managed to stay focused all the same. He pictured Hazel’s cold, dark eyes and her sallow skin. He recalled the way she rocked back and forth in her old, wooden chair by the flickering candlelight, and the croaking sound of her voice when she spoke.
“Wait,” he said. “I think I remember. She asked me to do her a favor.”
Ruuan’s eyes brightened. “GOOD, GREGHART. WHAT FAVOR?”
“She wanted me to bring back her amulet ‘when I was through.’” Greg’s voice slowed. “I have to die, don’t I?”
“RELAX. I’M SURE SHE JUST MEANT WHEN YOU WERE THROUGH WITH YOUR BUSINESS HERE. THAT SHOULD BE NO PROBLEM. BUT WHAT ABOUT THE OTHER AMULET,