The Camelot Spell - Laura Anne Gilman [61]
“And serve me?”
“And challenge you. Fair combat, winner takes all. That will leave us both the subject of legends that will live on forever.” He was taking a gamble—the dragon was not interested in objects, or meals, and was too proud to take servants as such. Pride. That Gerard knew something about.
“Are you insane?” Ailis asked in a harsh whisper, her hand clearly itching to slap Gerard for his foolishness.
He merely shrugged, watching the dragon examining them. “Without the ring we might as well die now, because if we can’t wake Arthur, the entire country is doomed. Besides,” and Gerard actually smiled, although his face was white with tension, “why are you assuming he’d win?”
There was really nothing Ailis or Newt could say to that. So instead the three humans waited while the dragon blew more of its smoke into the chamber, the very end of its tail twitching against the floor of the cave.
“A worthy trade, perhaps. Hmmmmmm. A worthy trade. What is it you would take in exchange?”
“A small thing, a very small thing,” Gerard said. “The ring you wear in your ear. That is all.”
Ailis would have groaned at the way Gerard tried to bargain, making it clear that what they wanted was no small thing at all, but it had been his offer that was accepted, so he had the right to do it as he would. She only hoped he wouldn’t make the dragon rethink the deal and ask for more.
“A ring?” The dragon pulled its head back as though affronted…or surprised. The black eyes rolled backward in contemplation. “A ring. Hmmmmm. Hmmmmmm. Yes, yes, I remember. I took it from a pirate.”
The tone of the dragon’s voice, fondly remembering the incident, suggested that the pirate had not given it willingly.
“And now you want it…why?”
“We asked no reasons of you, Wise One,” Ailis said firmly. “Reasons cost extra.”
The head tilted, and a puff of smoke came out in a dragon-laugh. “So. Take it, human. Come to me and take it.”
In the end, it was Newt who stepped forward as the great neck snaked down, lowering the head to within touching distance of the short human. He calmed his heartbeat, calling on everything he had ever learned dealing with injured dogs and spooked horses. The dragon might be wiser, smarter, more fierce, but the trick was still to show no fear; to do nothing that might provoke a regrettable instinctive reaction.
Unlike what he would do with a dog or horse, however, Newt dared not stroke the skin to calm the beast, no matter how inviting the scaled hide might be with its sparkle and sheen. Close up the smell was stronger than was comfortable, a stink of cloying smoke and the sweat of a meat-eater too long without water. He wondered, briefly, if dragons bathed, or perhaps rolled in the dirt to cleanse themselves; and if the wings, unfolded, were like those of bats or birds….
“The ring, human,” the dragon reminded him, the voice close enough to his ear to make him start and perspire.
“Yes. Turn this way, please?”
The dragon obliged, one eye watching Newt’s every move, and Newt was glad that his dagger was sheathed and out of reach so he wouldn’t be tempted to do anything stupid. In such a short time he’d trusted his life first to an unproven squire, and then to a girl who might be led astray by magical voices, and now to a dragon that could eat him in two bites.
Smiling slightly at the insanity of it all, Newt lifted one hand, letting the dragon see every movement clearly. One finger touched the ring gently. It seemed to shimmer with blue light, calling him to place it on his own finger and carry it away.
“I’m going to unhook it now,” Newt told the dragon, hearing his voice crack in the same manner he had teased Gerard about not long ago. “It may tug a little. Please don’t bite me if it does.”
“I shall not,” the dragon assured him gravely.
Contrary to his expectations, the dragon’s skin was warm and soft, so much like the delicate flesh of a horse’s muzzle that Newt almost let himself relax into