“If I hadn’t taken Hunter away from you, then you wouldn’t have wished for a prince to take you to prom.
You’d be going with him and he’d still be alive.” She looked blankly at the sky, the spirit drained from her.
“He’s still alive,” I said.
She shook her head. “We haven’t seen the dragon take flight. That means it was never frightened. He didn’t . . .
I shouldn’t have . . .” She let out a ragged moan. “I made Hunter come here.”
I took her hand, trying to keep her worry from spinning out of control. “Tristan has been living here for eight months. He knows how to take care of himself. He won’t let anything happen to Hunter.” 316/431
She squeezed my hand. Her breathing came in labored spurts. “You really think so?”
“If we never see the dragon in the sky, it only means they thought of a way to kill it before it took flight.
They’re probably already on their way home and they’ll laugh once they see us all up here on the roofs.” I glanced down at the ground. “Or they’ll yell at us because they didn’t have building codes in the Middle Ages and sitting up here is dangerous.” Her grip on my hand loosened. “You’re sure?” I didn’t have time to answer. The crowd around us gasped. My gaze shot to the sky, and there in the distance was the outline of a dragon, wings beating, rising above the trees. It was too far away to make out any detail. I could just see the enormous wings, long neck, horned head, and the tail that curled slightly as it flew.
The priest beside me broke out into a new chant. Latin words tumbled over one another in loud succession. I squeezed Jane’s hand back. The dragon paused in flight, its wings only moving slightly as it hovered, then it swooped back downward.
None of us breathed. None of us spoke. We waited. I said my own prayer, repeating Tristan’s name over and over again in my mind.
The dragon rose back up above the tree line and I could make out the shape of something in its mouth.
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Four legs stuck out—was it the pig? It looked too big for a pig. The legs were too long. Then I realized what it was. A horse.
Something had gone wrong.
I squinted at the dragon. Had there been a rider on that horse before the dragon grabbed it? Was there one on it still? I couldn’t tell. A slow moan came from my mouth, a moan I couldn’t stop.
The dragon tilted up his head and the entire horse disappeared into his mouth. The next moment a blast of light appeared where the dragon’s head had been. A clap like thunder went through the sky, and the dragon plummeted straight down, leaving a trail of black smoke to show where it had been.
The crowd around me lifted up their arms and cheered. Some even stood up and clapped, yelling,
“Long live Sir Tristan, the brave! Sir Tristan, the mighty dragon slayer!”
Jane turned to me, her face flushed with excitement.
“They did it. The dragon ate the pig.” I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what to say, or if I should say anything.
“Look at you,” she said with a relieved smile. “You were as afraid as I was. You’re white as a ghost.”
“Am I?” I told myself that I was wrong, that it had been the pig and not a horse, but my stomach still felt 318/431
like it had torn open. Tristan and Hunter had both left with bags of black powder in their saddlebags. Had the dragon discovered them before they had a chance to tie the bags onto the pig?
Which horse had it been? It had been so far away—but the shape had seemed dark. Hunter’s horse had been dark brown, Tristan’s a lighter color. Besides, Tristan’s horse had a cart attached. There had been no trace of that in the sky.
The priest said, “Everyone must get down so I can ring the bell. Ten rings—the death of a monster!” Another cheer went up, and the villagers headed for the ladder. The discussion now turned to the castle feast. What dancing and eating there would be!
I wanted to yell at all of them to stop it, that they didn’t know what they were talking about, that something horrible had happened. I didn’t. There was no point in frightening Jane. No sense in telling her I thought Hunter wouldn’t return to us.
We climbed down from the roof and walked back toward the inn. “What should we do while we wait for the guys to come back?” Jane asked me.
I shook my head, unable to speak.
“Maybe we could help the tailor sew. My dress really isn’t nice enough for a castle feast. Do you think we could get a dress done by tomorrow night?” 319/431
I wasn’t planning on going to the castle at all, but it wasn’t the time to mention it. “I think we should be here when . . .” My throat clenched and I had to force the rest of the sentence out, “When the guys get back.” She shrugged in agreement. “I suppose they might worry if we’re not here.”
She looked so relaxed now, so happy. I thought of how she’d clung to Hunter when they said their good-byes, and how she’d nearly fallen apart up on the roof while we waited for the dragon. If Hunter didn’t come home, if all her worries formed into a hard, relentless reality, how would she cope? How would we tell his parents when we went back home?
My throat clenched again. I wanted Hunter to be okay so badly, but I wanted it for her sake, not mine. She looked at me questioningly. Instead of saying anything I walked over and hugged her. We would do this again, I knew, when one horse returned.
She hugged me back. “I really am sorry about everything. I never meant to hurt you about Hunter.” As though offering me proof she added, “We both came when we found out you were here. We both wanted to get you back.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s all right. Sometimes things happen when we don’t mean them to.” 320/431
She laughed, and it turned into tears—tears of relief that I’d forgiven her. Then I was crying too, but for a different reason.
Finally she stepped away from me. “Look at us—we’re a mess. What will the guys think when they get back?” I wiped my face and didn’t answer.
She said, “I think I’m going to go lie down while we wait for them. I hardly slept at all last night, what with the time change and the worry. Now suddenly I’m exhausted.”
“You should sleep,” I said. “I think I’ll walk down the trail a little ways to meet them when they come.” Tristan would have told me it wasn’t safe to go off on a trail by myself, but Jane just watched me for a moment, then gave me a half smile. “You like Tristan, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded, still smiling. “I thought so. He’s gotten really cute, hasn’t he?”
“Yeah,” I repeated, then watched her turn and walk into the inn with the smile still on her face.
• • •
As I walked down the trail, I kept thinking about the dragon. In my mind I saw it fly through the sky with the 321/431
horse in its mouth, again and again. The more I walked, the more I realized I couldn’t be sure the dragon had eaten the darker horse. It was so far away, anything would look dark, wouldn’t it?
Which meant I didn’t know which rider had been attacked.
It was Tristan’s quest; he would have insisted on going first. He would have made Hunter stay behind and wait someplace safe. All along I’d wondered how to comfort Jane, but I was the one who needed to be comforted.
My pace turned from walk to jog. It wasn’t fair. I’d already lost Hunter and now I’d lost Tristan too. I pushed myself to go faster. I needed to know for sure. I ran as fast as I could, my feet pounding into the ground, each step bringing me to a future I didn’t want to face.
Cold air rushed by my face, the trees hurried by. But before long my lungs burned and my feet slowed even though I didn’t want to let them, and still there was nothing on the path in front of me but emptiness.
I kept going, now sure I knew the answer to the question I’d asked myself earlier—between the Black Knight and Tristan, I cared about Tristan more. Much more.