after all they’d been through.
“I’m not going to tell you again,” Kolk warned. “You don’t get in that boat now, you’re out of the Legion. Everything you’ve done will be for nothing. Forever.”
William stood there and shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” William said. “I wish I could. This is one thing I cannot do.”
“I can’t do it either,” came a voice.
Thor looked over, and saw another boy, one of the older ones, jump out of one of the other boats, and stand on shore. They both stood there on the sand, their heads down in shame.
Kolk sneered, grabbed each from behind and shoved them forward, away from the other boys. Thor felt terrible for them. He knew they would be put on the small boat and sent back to the Ring, and carry that stigmatism with them for the rest of their lives.
Before Thor could think of it too deeply, the Legion’s commanders came up behind each boat, and gave each a strong shove, pushing it into the sea. Thor felt his boat moving under him, and moments later he was taking up his oar, with the others.
The churning of the sea grew stronger as they went, and soon they were far from shore, stuck in strong tides, pulling them towards the dragon’s isle.
As they neared it, Thor tried to get a better view, but it was constantly obscured by the mist clinging to its shores.
“I hear the dragon that lives there eats a man a day for breakfast,” O’Connor said.
“Of course they would save something like this for the final day,” Elden said. “Just when we thought we were getting out of here.”
Reese looked at the horizon.
“I’ve heard stories of this place from my brothers,” he said. “The power of the dragon is unfathomable. There is no way we could all defeat it head-on, even together. We just have to hope we tread carefully and don’t rouse him. The island is big enough, and he may be sleeping. All we have to do is survive the day.”
“And what are the chances of that?” O’Connor asked.
Reese shrugged.
“I heard that not all boys survived in years past,” he said. “But enough did.”
Thor’s anxiety increased as the tides picked up, pulling them towards the island. The rowing got easier, and soon he could make out the distinct outline of its shores, comprised of red rocks of infinite shape and size, shining, glowing, as if they were on fire. They sparkled in the light, like a beach of rubies. He had never seen anything like it.
“Orethist,” Conval said, looking at the rocks. “Legend has it that if you give one to someone you love, it will save their life.”
Moments later their boat landed on shore, and Thor jumped out with Krohn and the others, pulling it up all the way on the rocks. Their feet crunched all around him, boys looked down and picked up the glowing red rocks.
Thor did the same. He grabbed one and held it up, examining it. It sparkled, like a rare jewel in the morning light. He closed his palm and closed his eyes, and a breeze arose as he concentrated. He could feel the rock’s power throbbing through his body. Conval was right: this was a magical stone.
He saw the others boys pocketing as many rocks as they could hold, as mementos, and Thor took one and tucked it deep into his pocket. One was enough for him. He didn’t need one for himself, and there was only one person he wanted to give one, too: Gwendolyn. That is, if he should ever make it back.
They all began to climb the steep bank, the only entrance leading up the steep cliffs. The mist blew in and out and it was hard to see far, but Thor could make out a narrow path, almost like natural steps, leading up the side of the cliff, covered in moss.
They climbed it single file, Thor slipping as the ocean waves sprayed everything, making the path slick. Thor struggled to keep his balance as a strong gust of wind pounded them.
Finally, they made it to the top. Thor stood on the grassy knoll with the others, at the peak of the dragon’s isle, and he looked out. A dark green moss covered the island as far as he could see, and the mist hovered over it. It was a creepy, gloomy place, and as Thor looked out, he suddenly heard a deep roar. It sounded like the earth itself gurgling up, and in the distance, he could see flames and smoke rising in the mist, and disappearing. A strange smell hung in this place, like ash mixed with sulfur. It pervaded everything here. Krohn whined.
Thor swallowed hard. The boys turned and looked at each other, even the bravest of them with fear in their eyes. They had all been through a lot together-but nothing like this. They were really here. It was no longer a drill-it was now life or death.
They all set off as one across the barren wasteland of the isle, walking on the slippery moss, all on guard, all with hands on their swords.
After what felt like hours, the mist swirling all around them, there came a hissing noise, and then a great sound grew, and finally, as the air grew colder, wetter, they reached the edge of a waterfall. Thor looked down over the edge and it seemed to drop forever.
They continued on a trail around the circumference of the waterfall, and headed across a boggy terrain, drenched in spray from the falls, their feet sinking. As they walked and walked, clouds of mist becoming so thick that they could barely see each other, the roar of the dragon came every few minutes, and seemed to grow louder. Thor turned to see where they had come from, but the mist was now too thick to see through. He began to wonder how they would ever make their way back.
As they marched, Reese beside Thor, suddenly Reese lost his footing, and began to fall. Thor used his newfound reflexes to reach out and grab Reese, a moment before he fell. He grabbed him hard by the back of the shirt, and yanked him back. As he stepped forward and looked, he realized that he had just save Reese’s life: below them, the ground opened up into what looked like a massive canyon, dropping hundreds of feet below.
Reese turned and looked at Thor with a look of life-saving gratitude.
“I owe you,” he said.
Thor shook his head. “No you don’t.”
The boys all huddled around, looking down at the immense canyon, sinking hundreds of feet into the earth, and wondered.
“What is it?” Elden asked.
“It looks like a canyon,” Conval said.
“No,” Reese said. “It’s not.”
“Then what is it?” Conven asked.
“It’s a footprint,” Reese said.
“A footprint?” Conven asked.
“Look at the indent, how steep it is. And look at that shape, around the edges. That is no canyon, my friend. That is the footprint of the Dragon.”
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Erec trotted on his horse in the morning light down the well-worn path, flanked by a contingent of the Duke’s knights, including his friend Brandt. As they went, heading towards the jousting lanes, they were greeted by thousands of spectators, cheering wildly on both sides of the road.
It had been a long hundred days of jousting, and Erec had won every competition thus far. Today was the final day, everyone out in force to celebrate the finale, and as Erec trotted, he could think only of one thing: Alistair. Her face remained frozen in his mind, and as he tightened his grip on his lance, he knew that he would be fighting for her. If he won today, he could, finally, claim her as his bride. And he was determined that no man, in any province of the kingdom, would defeat him.
As they rode through the immense arched stone gates, into the arena, they were greeted by a cheer from thousands more spectators, seated in the outdoor stone coliseum, looking down at the jousting field in its center. People rose to their feet, throwing down flowers as Erec entered. He felt a swell of pride. He had devoted his life to
