Chapter 19 #2
He’d died many times, usually murdered, occasionally simply unlucky. He would have sworn that he wasn’t afraid of death. But somehow, merely being stabbed through the heart did not compare to a gigantic reptilian horror taller than a house.
The knife skidded across his knuckle and he wrenched his eyes away. The dullness of the blade made the cut sting like fire.
He could run. If he ran far enough away, he couldn’t get back in time to throw himself between Edmund and the dragon, and despite his brave words, he really wasn’t looking forward to being devoured.
If the creature swallowed its prey whole, he might even encounter the dragon’s stomach acid.
And I was worried about my scars before!
It’ll burn my skin off and I’ll come out looking like a silver statue.
Really, was one wielder’s life all that important, compared to an eternity of freakish deformity? Edmund had, what, another thirty or forty years, tops? The Dervish had centuries.
Another glance got him another scraped knuckle, and the sight of the dragon’s neck swaying back and forth as it tested the air. Could it see them? Could it smell them over its own reek?
The knife was so dull now that he was tempted to use his teeth instead. The edge was crushing the strands more than cutting them. Edmund was pulling against the rope like a dog on a leash, trying to hold it taut, his breath coming in short gasps.
The thud as the dragon’s foot hit the ground rattled the stones around them.
Mud-colored scales poured out of the crack. The dragon did not so much emerge as extrude itself, its thick body seemingly as malleable as clay. It paused halfway out and scratched itself, a creature just waking up and clearly not in any hurry. The Dervish wondered if it had even seen them.
Another twist of hemp parted. The Dervish gave up cutting and began stabbing the point into the rope, an exaggerated motion with both hands tied together.
The dragon turned its head.
“Stop!” hissed Edmund. “Stop, stop! Freeze!”
The Dervish froze, the knife embedded in the rope. The dragon tilted its head slowly to one side. It looked like it was thinking. Is it? How much brain can fit into that tiny little skull?
It took a step toward them.
The Dervish’s wrists lay across Edmund’s and he could feel the scholar’s blood hammering through his veins. He had a wild urge to apologize. I’m sorry I didn’t save you from the dragon. I’m sorry I didn’t see this coming.
I’m sorry you had to kiss me—
A crow erupted from the trees, cawing, and the dragon jerked its head around.
That long neck shot out at rattlesnake speed and before the Dervish could quite comprehend what had happened, there was a puff of black feathers and the dragon’s mouth snapped closed.
A small dark lump showed briefly against the translucent lavender skin, sliding downward in slow, convulsive movements as the monster swallowed.
Most of his mind was gibbering in terror, but the part that kept the Dervish alive said, Now, while it’s distracted, and he pulled the knife free.
The rope parted.
Neither of them had expected that. Edmund staggered back and the Dervish almost, almost caught him, but he was still holding the knife in his bound hands and the magic shrieked at him not to stab his wielder and it delayed him just a moment too long and Edmund tried to catch himself but with his hands tied behind him, his balance was off and he crashed full length to the ground.
The dragon’s head whipped around. The Dervish saw small yellow eyes focus on them, saw the slitted pupil widen, and heard the sensible voice in his head say, Well, shit.
He reached down, grabbed Edmund’s bound hands, and hauled the scholar to his feet. “Run,” he said, not taking his eyes from the dragon.
“But—”
“I said run!” And even though every fiber of his being was screaming at him, the Dervish shoved Edmund toward the woods and began walking toward the dragon.
His biggest fear was that Edmund would argue.
The Dervish was getting the feeling that Edmund was brave, braver than he was, despite what Sarkis had said all those years ago.
Although perhaps his commander had been right after all, because despite everything, despite the fact that he was reciting every curse he knew under his breath, the Dervish was still walking forward.
The dragon was staring at him in apparent disbelief, like a lion watching a gazelle stroll casually into the center of the pride and comment on the décor.
The Dervish heard footsteps running away and suspected he would have felt relieved, if he had not been the gazelle in question.
Those slitted reptilian eyes shifted to follow the movement behind him, and the Dervish waved his arms in the air and shouted, “Hey! Pay attention to me, you miserable … miserable … ass-lizard!”
Ass-lizard?
Look, I’m under stress here, he told himself. You can’t expect my best work.
Regardless, it had the hoped-for effect. The dragon’s eyes snapped back to him. The Dervish was probably imagining that it looked offended.
It took two heavy steps forward to meet him. The Dervish stopped and waited.
Up close, the creature looked even more unnatural, as if someone had cut the head off a buffalo and welded a snake to the stump.
A giant six-legged buffalo. With crocodile feet.
Still. The join between neck and body was lumpy and swollen, as if infected, and the muscles that bulged in its chest when it walked didn’t move like the muscles of any animal the Dervish had ever seen.
This is a made thing.
Which was an interesting thought, so far as it went, and also absolutely useless. He found himself making a mental note to tell Edmund, later, after he’d died. The scholar would no doubt find it fascinating.
The dragon took another lumbering step forward and lowered its head. Almost dreamily, the Dervish thought, I should be running. But if he ran, then he would be prey and the dragon would snap him up as easily as it had the crow. Though it might take two bites to get him down.
He was still prey now, of course, but the dragon seemed genuinely curious, the lion waiting to see what the strange gazelle would do next.
Its head dropped level with him, only a few yards away. Its mouth was open, only a few inches, just enough to see the gleam of its teeth. There was a feather stuck to one corner of its mouth, which struck the increasingly lightheaded Dervish as hilarious.
The dragon’s head was much wider than it was tall, a flat expanse with the eyes set on top like a pair of hostile cantaloupes. The Dervish could see more of the strange, puffy warts along its jaw and in a band across the top of its skull. The ones circling the dragon’s eyes oozed like open sores.
“You’re not real,” he told it. “Or—no, sorry, you are real, but you’re not natural. And not that well put together, either.”
A cloudy membrane slid across the dragon’s eye as it blinked.
“It’s all right,” the Dervish said. “I’m not natural either.” He felt a rush of fellow feeling for the dragon. They were both creations of some power-mad sorcerer, and he couldn’t imagine that the dragon—or the snake-buffalo-crocodile-plus-whatever-else-it-had-been—had asked to be made either.
You’re losing your mind.
Shut up. It’s my death and I’ll be maudlin if I want to.
Something white and thumb-sized crawled across the dragon’s head. The Dervish watched it, fascinated. It stopped at the edge of a scale and seemed to latch on. Another one detached from the underside of the dragon’s jaw and came scurrying over its muzzle.
Lice, the Dervish thought. I’m looking at dragon lice.
The stench of rotting eggs and old meat washed over him as the monster exhaled. It opened its mouth wider, revealing even more teeth set into sickly white gums. It didn’t seem to have a tongue, which was interesting. No wonder feathers got stuck in its teeth.
I will definitely have to tell Edmund all about this.
The dragon’s mouth gaped wider and wider yet. Cracking noises came from the hinges of its jaw, and the lumps there began to weep clear fluid. It looked excruciating.
Not very well put together at all. At least I can take some comfort that eating me hurt like hell.
Surely Edmund has to be safely away by now.
“Well?” he said to the inside of the dragon’s mouth. “What are you waiting for?”
The dragon’s jaw cracked a final time and he caught a glimpse of it moving forward, and then everything went silver.