How to Slay a Dragon - Bill Allen [98]
“Hah, I thought as much,” said Melvin, obviously interpreting Lucky’s silence as evidence of a hollow threat.
“All right, Melvin,” said Greg, “what do you want?”
“Relax, Greghart, I’m not going to rat you out.”
“You’re not?”
“Nah. Oh, I agree a few weeks ago I’d have been happy to. I mean, after what you did to my brother.”
“I didn’t do anything to Marvin,” Greg protested.
“Except destroy his career.” Greg was about to object again when Melvin cut him short with a wave. “I know you claim it wasn’t your fault, and maybe that’s true, but it doesn’t really matter now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you saved my life. Ever since, I’ve felt like I owed you something. It was awful. I couldn’t even be myself around you.”
“But I never said you owed me anything,” Greg objected.
“That made it all the worse,” said Melvin. “Only a true hero could be so modest about saving someone’s life.”
“Look,” said Greg. “I never meant to make you feel bad. I saved you because that troll was about to club you over the head, that’s all. I would have done the same for anyone.”
“Stop,” said Melvin. “I can’t take any more. We’re even now, okay? You saved my life. Now I’ll save yours by keeping quiet about the dragon.”
“Sounds like a good deal to me,” Lucky advised Greg.
“Me too,” said Priscilla.
Greg looked Melvin straight in the eye. “You promise you’ll never tell anyone about Ruuan?”
“Cross my heart,” said Melvin, drawing an invisible ‘X’ across his chest. “Not even my own brother.”
“Marvin already knows,” Greg said. “But you won’t tell anyone else, agreed?”
“Agreed.”
The two boys shook hands, and Greg felt reasonably assured the younger boy would stick to the agreement, even if Melvin did squeeze harder than necessary to seal the deal.
Home Is Where the Hart Is
As if the handshake had been a signal, shadowcats began to pour from the campsite like rats deserting a sinking ship. In a moment only one remained. Rake leaned forward and stretched out his front legs, then sat licking his whiskers and staring at Greg disinterestedly. Soon after, the first of the soldiers began to stir. Then others joined him, until the whole campsite was abuzz with activity.
“Princess Priscilla, you’re back,” he heard a voice exclaim behind him. “Greghart, you’ve done it.”
Greg turned just in time to avoid being trampled. Nathan hugged him fiercely and then inspected him at arm’s length. “Still have all your limbs, too. Well done.”
“I, uh, lost your staff.”
Nathan smiled approvingly. “I rather expected you to.”
Before Greg could comment, a voice rang out from behind.
“Excellent work, soldier.” Ryder grinned even wider than Nathan. “I’m afraid, though, I must have somehow slept right through it. Come, tell us of your adventure.”
“Give him room, give him room,” Bart said, shouldering his way past the others so he, too, could congratulate Greg. “When you get ready to reveal your tale, you see me first, okay? I’ll pass the word along to the others, I promise.”
News of Greg’s return spread quickly through the camp. Within seconds, hundreds of Ryder’s men had gathered around Greg and his friends.
“There’s not much to tell,” said Greg, his face red with embarrassment. “I . . . uh . . . sleighed the dragon, and then I rescued the princess . . . just like the prophecy said.”
Shouts of approval erupted from the soldiers up front and quickly rippled through the crowd. “Hip, hip, hooray!” someone screamed, and five hundred men echoed the phrase in a chorus that reverberated throughout the mountains.
Greg glanced over the ridge to see if the spirelings had been awakened. To his surprise about half of them had already filed into the cave mouth at the base of the Infinite Spire. Somehow they must have known their part in the prophecy was over.
“Hip, hip, hooray!” the army finished.
Greg took the moment to scoop up the cloak he had abandoned atop