“Little One?” Teryn whined. “Why are you calling me ‘Little One?’ You called Sage Gallian ‘Wise One.’ I’m a mage, too!”
“Yes, yes I did, Little One,” was all the Great Dragon replied.
Teryn felt insulted, but the pain in his arm was getting worse, so he obeyed. He took a few steps forward and raised his arm high enough for the beast to see it. The dragon opened one of its glassy eyes a bit farther and took in the gruesome sight.
“That wound undoubtedly has poison in it. I must heal it with my magical flames. Hold still, Little One.” The Great Dragon opened its mouth and out came a strange green fire that licked at his skin.
He winced a little and looked away for a moment, but the flames bore no heat, and his skin did not melt under their pressure. He watched as the flames licked the sides of the black scar and it slowly dissipated, leaving fresh, clean skin underneath.
The Great Dragon slumped back down onto the ground and looked even more exhausted than before, but somewhat satisfied as well. “You are healed, Little One,” it said at last.
“Thank you, Great Dragon,” Teryn replied, bowing, not sure what else to say.
“If the Maktuul have returned, then the seal on dimgate must be weakening. That must mean that the powers of the Tytins flow through you, do they not?” the Great Dragon asked the pair.
Teryn was almost too afraid to answer for a moment, too afraid of what the Great Dragon would do to him. “Yes, Great Dragon,” he said at last, head hung low. “I had to use it, to protect the ones I love!”
“Such power is more likely to kill your loved ones than protect them!” the Great Dragon snapped. There was a brief hint of anger in his eyes, but it faded quickly. “But the choice is up to you. Be warned, Little One...by using Tytin magic, you might go insane. The power has proved too much for those who came before you, and they were . . . much better suited than you.”
Teryn felt a chill at the dragon’s words. His next response came slowly. “I understand the risks involved. Now, is there any way you can help us, or is Valeria lost to us?”
“I am afraid not, Little One, for I am too weak. All I have now that keeps me alive is the Sword of the Spirit, and even that boon is fading.”
Teryn lowered his head in despair, but the dragon kept talking.
“If only someone could locate the sacred dragonskin scroll. Were it returned to me, my strength might return as well.”
He snickered a little as he thought about a scroll that could fly around like a miniature dragon. Then Terwain reminded him it was the scroll made from the dragon’s own hide that he’d seen in Gallian’s book, and it was draining away the beast’s very life essence. That sobered his thoughts quick.
“O Great Dragon, if I can locate this scroll of yours, and give it to you, will you give me the Sword of Spirit and help me rescue Valeria from the Maktuul?” Teryn asked, hope bright in his eyes.
“Nay, I will grant you but one of those wishes. Each favor given grants one favor in return. Such is the contract between dragon and human since the dawn of time.”
“Well, in that case, I want you to help us save Valeria after I return to you the sacred scroll. Is it a deal?” Teryn asked. The Great Dragon nodded his massive snout, the effort seemingly so great his eyes started to close. “And that means we’re both in luck, because I know just how to find it.”
Teryn walked away a couple of feet, looking giddy as a schoolboy. He concentrated on the dragonskin scroll and slowly moved his hand in a circle in the air in front of him. Within seconds, a strange window-like hole in time and space appeared between his hands.
Peering through the hole, he could gaze upon the distant location of the scroll. Teryn looked around at the live scene played out in front of him. In it, he saw the scroll sitting on top of a high pedestal in the middle of a strange, ancient ruin in the forests of Xenoctil. Several gleaming weapons were strewn about it at the base of the pillar. It was the dragonskin scroll, alright.
He panned out the image a little bit further to see the surroundings. All around the scroll stood a bunch of tall, muscular, hairy creatures with deformed heads, glowing black eyes, pointy horns, broad shoulders, and long claws. He recognized these Death Beasts at once. They were Trebors, the gruesome foe that had chased Gallian through the halls of Sanctuary and murdered his friends. They were worshipping the scroll.
“Well, I have good news and bad news,” Teryn said at once, more to Talon than the dragon. “I found the dragonskin scroll. It’s just . . . guarded.”
“Guarded?” Talon repeated. “By what, exactly?”
“Just a few Trebors.”
“Trebors?” Talon replied incredulously. “And you think after your meager showing against the Maktuul, you’ll just waltz right through them?”
“Well, I was kind of hoping you would, you know, come and help?” Teryn asked sheepishly.
“After all you’ve put me through already, why should I lift one more finger to help you in your fool’s errand?” Talon snorted. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared in the distance.
“But your little errand? You’re supposed to take me in front of the king, remember? I’m your prize.”
The big man averted his gaze. “I could tell him you died, you know. Not the ending he’d want, but at least I’d save face.”
Teryn’s face went ashen. “You wouldn’t!”
“Wouldn’t I?” Talon barked out a short laugh. “You don’t know me at all, kid.”
His mind raced. He needed the big man’s help. He wasn’t sure he could do it without him. “Please,” Teryn pleaded. “For Valeria, if not for me. She’s innocent in this affair.”
The big man thoughtfully stroked
