Squawking in hunger, the gull swooped down, landed on the bluff, andbegan to pick at what looked like a whale’s spine.
Cyrus felt the earth rumble. Fibian pulled himto the ground.
CRUNCH!
A massive, scaled claw stretched out of a darkened cavern and pinned thereptile to the charred rock, crushing it like a fly. Then, out of the caveemerged a great dragon, oily and jagged. His scales were like rectangularsheets of steel, and his beard was aswhite as lightning. Once, he had been atwo-headed dragon, but a scarred stump was all that remained of his secondhead.
Cyrus wanted to scream; run in horror, but Fibiandragged him back behind a rock. He felt Edward scurry up his neck.
“Cyrus, we have to leave,” the spider whispered, deep panic in hiswords.
But go where? Cyrus thought. He held his breath and stood as stillas the stone he peeked around.
With a coarse, cat-like tongue, the dragon lapped the gull off his clawand choked it down. Then, he sniffed the night air and stretched out hisenormous wings. Thick, sword-like scales clashed on their tops. Beneath,membranes of black skin strained between long finger-like appendages. The dragon’sshoulder blades hitched and creaked as he limped towards the edge. Like acrashing bolder, he threw himself from the cliff, falling several storiesbefore engaging his wings and taking flight.
“Stay hidden and do not move,” Fibian whispered.
“Wait, where are you going?” Edward asked, crawling along Cyrus’shoulder.
Fibian leaped out from behind the rock, climbed up around the peak and outof site.
“What’s he doing? Cyrus asked.
He searched the mountainside for the froskman’swhereabouts, but he had vanished.
“This is our chance, let’s go,” Edward said.
“Great and powerful Drache!” Cyrus heard Fibian shout.
The froskman’s voice carried farand wide on the wind.
“What in Kingdom?” Edward gasped.
The hulking mass of flying steel stretched out his wings and began tobank right. He climbed high into the sky, then formed the shape of an arrow andcame hurtling towards the earth. Cyrus heard a shrill whistling coming from themeteor-like object.
The dragon again engaged his wings and roared like a windstorm as heskimmed the mountaintop.
“Who dares trespass on my mountain?”
The serpent began to circle the peak, his eyes probing the stone.
“I am Corporal Fibian of her Majesty’s SecretArmy,” Fibian’s vibrant voice echoed,
“A traitor to the Warrior Witch, and once keeper of her island prison.And I am here to offer you a bargain.”
“What could you possibly offer me?” the dragon asked, swooping low, nearCyrus.
Cyrus ducked and circled further behind the large rock. He could feelthe air pressure change as Drache’s mass swept past.
“I can offer you freedom. I can offer you revenge. Revenge on theWarrior Witch.”
“You think I am a fool?” the dragon growled.
“The legend is true,” Fibian shouted, “I canprove it.”
The serpent glided near the large precipice and beat his wings, kickingup dust and bone fragments. Cyrus felt the icy wind swirl and buffet themountainside. The ground quivered as the dragon touched down in front of thecave.
“Show yourself, traitor,” the beast bellowed.
Fibian appeared on a cliff, above Cyrus.The froskman had the bow loaded, charged and aimed atthe dragon. The laceration in his suit where Rorrohhad pierced his chest yawned wide.
“This arrow is poison-tipped,” heshouted, “If you try to harm me or my companions, I will shoot you dead.”
Poison-tipped? Cyrus thought as he peered around the edge. This was crazy; Fibianwas bluffing!
The dragon shook with a deep, rolling chuckle.
“You think that twig could penetrate my luxurious armor?”
“Your body is not entirely defended,” Fibiancountered.
The dragon snorted a laugh but shiftedhis bulk to hide the scarred remains of his severed, second head.
“I will not hurt any of you,” Drache purred, “ifwhat you say is true. Come out from behind that rock, oh chosen one, and let mejudge for myself.”
Bloody Kingdom, Cyrusthought. He must have leaned out too far. His flesh grew hot and tingly. Helooked up at Fibian. The froskmanheld the bow taut and nodded his consent. Cyrus balled his fists. Was he really going to expose himself to this monster?The beast would know for sure that he was a fraud. Did he have a choice?
“Don’t do it,” Edward warned.
“He knows we’re here,” Cyrus said, “Where are we supposed to go?”
He felt Edward crawl within his scarf, but the spider did not reply.Cyrus remembered the knife on his hip, not that it would do him any good. Helooped the rope over his shoulder, put on his sternest face and stepped outfrom behind the rock. He felt naked and terrifiedas if the bow and arrow were trained onhim. Slowly, he looked up at the mightybeast. Drache stared at him with cat-like eyes.Cyrus’ gaze wavered.
“So this is the mighty hero from legend?” the monster said, his thickmuzzle exposing two rows of jagged and fractured teeth, “Looks like afrightened child to me.”
“He has already faced the Warrior Witch and survived,” Fibian said, “He cleaved off her hand and threw it into theocean.”
“A ridiculous lie,” the dragon countered, shaking a scrap of gull fromhis beard, “He is a feeble boy.”
“He did what you could not,” Fibian said, “Youalready underestimated the Warrior Witch once. Do not underestimate herdestroyer as well.”
The serpent’s eyes shifted to the froskman. Cyrussensed an ancient anger burn within thebeast. Fibian’s gone too far, Drache’s going to kill us, he thought. He felt his bodygrow electric, ready for flight.
“Revenge on the old witch, you say?” the dragon growled, “Then freedomwould truly be mine.”
He seemed to turn inward as ifweighing the risks, and the rewards.
“We will discuss this further inside,” he finally said.
He turned his back and ducked into his dwelling.
“But if I sense any lies, or if your plot is foolhardy, you will all bein my belly by nightfall.”
Cyrus looked to Fibian, bewildered. Fibian noddedback, a slight grin on his smooth face. Had the froskman’splan actually worked?
Chapter 23
DRAGON’S BLOOD
CYRUS, EDWARD, ANDFIBIAN crept down the large tunnel of the Himmel Garde’slair.
