“Oh, your poor hands! How do we know you’re not healing them as you go and just casting an illusion of the cuts and bruises?”
“I can’t do that!”
“How do we know that? All we have is your word!” “What more do you want? Why won’t you believe what you see?”
“Because I can’t imagine what a young wizard is doing hunting dragons, instead of sitting at home selling love potions!”
“Because I don’t know any love potions, you idiot! My master died before he taught me anything useful!”
This outburst of honesty was answered by a long moment of silence, broken at last by Arden, who had come back to hear the argument, asking, “Really?”
“Really!” Tobas said, relieved to have the whole truth out at last. “His heart gave out before he’d taught me anything but some simple fire-magic.”
“Oh,” Elner said. He sat down on a stone to consider this. “That’s all you know?”
“That’s all I know.”
“We never thought of that,” Arden said. “I know you said you weren’t much of a wizard, but we figured that anyone who finished an apprenticeship would be able to make a living without hunting dragons like this, so we didn’t believe you. We thought you were some old man in disguise, playing tricks on us. That’s why we didn’t want you along at first.”
Elner nodded. “And we thought you enchanted the king into sending you with us. We did what you wanted so as not to anger you.”
“Oh,” Tobas said, too dumbfounded to say more. He, too, sat down.
“I wasn’t sure,” Peren said as he joined Tobas and Elner in sitting. “But it seemed safer to cooperate.”
“Oh,” Tobas said again.
Another moment of silence ensued. “But I let Peren choose the route,” Tobas said at last.
Elner shrugged. “We thought either it didn’t matter, or he had happened to pick the direction you wanted to go.”
“No,” Tobas said. “I didn’t care.”
“So you don’t know if the dragon is anywhere around here?” Arden asked, still standing.
“No, I don’t,” Tobas said. Arden accepted this with mild disappointment and, having said his piece, wandered off ahead. The other three remained sitting, by mutual consent, resting for a moment.
Elner sighed. “I was hoping you were leading us to it.”
“I was hoping you’d forget about it, I don’t think we could handle it,” Tobas answered.
“Really?” Peren asked interestedly. “Even with your fire-magic?”
Tobas shrugged. “I’d just as soon not try,” he said. “Dragons are dangerous.”
“But-” Before Peren could finish his question, a yell from Arden interrupted him.
Elner jumped to his feet; Tobas rose more slowly. “What is it?” he called.
Arden had vanished around the rocky shoulder at the end of the cliff; now he reappeared, scrambling desperately across the rocks.
“I found it!” he shouted.
“Found what?” Tobas asked, but no one bothered to answer as a yard-long blast of flame followed Arden, narrowly missing the top of his head. Obviously, the dragon really did breathe fire.
“At last!” Elner cried, drawing his rusty sword. “We found it!”
Tobas spared one wondering glance at the madman before he turned and ran for the limited shelter of the forest. Peren was right beside him, and Arden close on his heels.
When they were under the trees, Tobas paused long enough to glance back and got a good, clear look at the dragon.
The creature was fifty or sixty feet long, just as most of the reports had said, and it stood at least fifteen feet at the shoulder, its monstrous head raised up even higher on a long, arching neck. Four huge claws dug cream-colored talons into the solid rock of the hillside, and an immense pair of wings lay folded on its back; the scales that covered its entire body were a glossy blue-green. Its eyes were red and bright, its nostrils flared and edged with crimson; the fangs that gleamed from its upper jaw were at least a foot long, Tobas was certain. Smoke trailed upward from its mouth, but, after that first gout of fire, it had not spat flame. It gave no sign of speaking, let alone reciting poetry. It looked utterly bestial, with no trace of intelligence beyond what it needed to stalk its prey.
Elner was standing frozen, staring at it as it walked toward him at a leisurely pace; the sword was shaking wildly with his trembling as he finally realized that slaying this dragon would not be easy.
The dragon bent its head down for a closer look.
“Do something!” Arden shouted in Tobas’ ear. “It’s going to eat him!”
“Either that or roast him,” Peren said.
Tobas simply stared in horrified fascination.
“Wizard! Do something!” Arden repeated, pointing. “Use your magic!”
The dragon was reaching out with one of its great fore-claws, about to snatch Elner up and devour him, and Tobas had no more time to think; he snatched his athame from his belt, dipped a finger in brimstone, and flung Thrindle’s Combustion at the dragon’s face.
Flame erupted with a roar, pouring out of the dragon’s mouth and nostrils, not projected forward, but simply rushing up around the monster’s muzzle, across its eyes. Startled, the creature reared back, forgetting about Elner and batting at its mouth with its armored foreclaws.
Tobas could smell the smoke, sour and oily, as he stared out at the frantic monster.
Peren, in a display of phenomenal courage, rushed out and grabbed Elner, dragging him back toward the trees before the dragon could regain its composure.
It had managed to extinguish most of the flame by simply closing its mouth and smothering the fire, but smoke and flame were still streaming from its nostrils. It dropped back to all fours and shook its head back and forth, trying to put out the remaining fire, but without effect. Finally, it snorted with a sound like a windstorm, blowing out the last flickers.
By then, however, Peren had dragged Elner into the forest, out of the monster’s sight.
Elner was still shaking, still incapable of moving without guidance; he cowered behind a tree, whimpering softly.
Arden stood behind another tree, staring wide-eyed at the dragon. “I didn’t realize it would be so big!” he whispered.
Tobas was also watching the dragon, trying to decide what to do next, run, stay hidden, or use the Combustion again.
“Good work, Tobas,” Peren said, the albino suddenly close at his side. “Can you do anything else, anything that might kill it?”
“No,” Tobas admitted. “I only have that one spell with me.”
“Try it again, maybe you can set the beast on fire.”
Tobas shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve heard that dragons are fireproof, especially fire-breathing ones. They have to be. If I hadn’t caught it off guard and ignited its own fuel, I don’t think my spell would have done anything at all.”
“Try it anyway,” Peren insisted.
“All right.” Tobas raised his athame, fished out another pinch of brimstone, and threw his spell.
Sparks spattered harmlessly from the dragon’s flank for a moment, but nothing more. The monster did not even seem to feel anything. Tobas tried again, aiming for the dragon’s face; but with its mouth held tightly closed, the creature was protected; sparks showered ineffectually from its jaw.
“No,” Tobas said. “I didn’t think so. I can’t do anything more to harm it.”
“What do we do, then?” Arden asked.
“We wait,” Peren replied. “If it comes toward us, we run.”
The dragon was not coming toward them. It was pawing at its mouth again, apparently in some discomfort, even though the fire was out. The pawing did not seem to be doing any good; after a moment, it reared back and roared, spitting out a tongue of flame half the length of its own body, then spread its wings, flapping vigorously. Tobas suppressed a gasp at the sight of its wingspan, which he guessed to be over a hundred feet. It fluttered clumsily off the ground, wings beating wildly, and managed to get twenty or thirty feet up before making a crazy sideways swoop down the hillside.