continued his steady plodding gait. Alodar steadied himself against a wall and then leapt with both feet upon his target. This time the tail twitched spasmodically, knocking him to the ground into a scatter of broken glass.
Alodar quickly scrambled up and dusted his hands against his robe, ignoring the blood which began to ooze out of many small cuts. He hastily looked about and saw that all of the glass partitions into the various cages had been broken. Here and there, small creatures scurried in the wreckage.
In the opening to the left Alodar saw that two jagged daggers of glass still stood in a shattered frame. He lashed out quickly with his boot and snapped one at the base. Fingering it gingerly, he caught up with the advancing dragon and jabbed it with his makeshift weapon. The point skittered along the scales, but Alodar felt sudden pain in his hands as the edges caught and cut his flesh.
Grimacing, he tightened his grip, feeling blood pour out onto his palms and the hurt intensify in its sharpness. The beast was almost upon Cynthia, lowering its head and extending its forked tongue expectantly, when Alodar lunged again, this tune with the full force of his body behind the blow.
The tip caught between two scales and the shaft snapped a few inches from the point. Alodar fell forward upon the beast's back, frantically rolling to one side to avoid being impaled on his own point, and clattering to the floor. The wyvern yelped; distracted, it turned to see what annoyed him.
'To the side passage,' Alodar shouted, righting himself and gritting his teeth as he placed his free hand against the wall, 'Move, I say,' he yelled again. In desperation, he flung the remains of the glass in Cynthia's direction.
The initiate instinctively moved to one side to dodge the missile, jarring herself out of her petrification. She quickly ran into one of the arms of the cross corridor, while Alodar scrambled backwards from the head that was turning to examine him. He ducked into one of the cages and looked from side to side for another weapon. To the left, he saw Cynthia peering in at him through another broken window. He was in one of the cages at the corner of the tee, with viewing from two directions.
As the dragon extended its head into the cage, Alodar hopped out to join the initiate, staining her robe deep crimson as he threw his arms about her.
'This way,' he yelled as he pushed against Cynthia's stiffening form. 'We have to get some distance so we can search for a weapon.'
The two began to run down the passageway, and the wyvern withdrew his head from the empty cage and turned around the corner. It saw its quarry sprinting away and ruffled its wings in annoyance, scarping the walls which confined it. It hooted after them and quickened its pace in pursuit.
Alodar felt the air grow warm as the call of the dragon echoed down the passageway. He turned a puzzled glance to Cynthia, who gasped out as they ran, 'It is getting angry and firing up. We will not have a tradesman's chance if it gets within three strides.'
Alodar turned to see how close the wyvern pursued and was surprised at the way the deliberate lumber had been replaced by a fast rocking pace.
'It is gaining on us,' he shouted to Cynthia, pushing her from behind with his bloody hand until she nearly stumbled. 'Look there, a staircase to the second level. Perhaps it does not know how to climb them.'
Alodar spun Cynthia to the side, grabbing her arm to begin pulling her up the stairs. As they disappeared ground the corner, the passageway flashed to the brightness of day as a cloud of flame rolled past, furnace- hot.
They reached a landing half a flight up as the dragon appeared at the foot below. It snaked its head halfway up the well, the raspy and pimpled tongue flicking out a foot more beyond. It roared in anger as it caught sight of its prey disappearing. As the echo trailed off, another fireball coursed up the stairs.
The shock of the heat flashed memories of the Fumus Mountains through Alodar's mind, and Cynthia shrieked from the blistering bath. The sphere of flame crashed against the landing wall and burst into smaller globes, which ricocheted towards them.
'Your robe, pull in your robe,' Alodar shouted as the balls of fire danced by. One caught Cynthia's hem. Almost instantly, the garment burst in a new shower of incandescence.
Alodar looked over the railing and saw the wyvern slip and stumble as it tried to place one of its broad feet on the narrow risers. It unfurled its wings and banged against the walls; with one powerful downstroke, it levitated a few feet off the ground and onto the third step.
Alodar turned back to Cynthia, who stood on the floor above, frantically beating her hands against the ends of the robe which encircled her in flames. He bounded up and knocked her to the ground, sending her rolling down a hallway more spacious than the ones below. The flames sputtered for a moment; but as soon as she stopped, they sprang to life again. He ran to her. Ignoring the throbbing in his hands, he grabbed her disintegrating hem. With a mighty spasm, he yanked his arms apart, splitting the robe from bottom to top, and flung it away from them.
The wyvern careened to the first landing and Alodar pulled Cynthia to her feet, as naked as the day of the stadium ritual. As they resumed their flight, Alodar caught sight of a familiar glowing disk in the wall on the left.
'What is that?' he shouted, pointing as they ran.
'The initiate viewing room,' Cynthia responded as she saw the small circle.
Alodar thought back to his previous encounter with such a disk. In a flash, their method of escape struck him. The timing would have to be perfect, but they had no other choice. 'Then into it,' he directed. 'Let us find our safety there.'
Cynthia responded to the command and firmly pushed the small button. The door smoothly parted and the two ran into a small anteroom that appeared to open onto a spacious balcony. Alodar took three rapid steps into the middle of the chamber. He stopped and faced the door through which they had entered.
'Let us go to the balcony and beyond.' Cynthia tugged at his arm in a wave of fresh panic. 'The wyvern will catch up with us in a moment.'
As she spoke, the dragon glided up to the door and furled its wings, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Alodar grabbed Cynthia by the hand; with a whipping motion, he propelled her stumbling through the door to the balcony. He looked back into the hallway at the approaching beast. He waited an instant longer and then ran after Cynthia, but took only two more steps before a brace of bells began sounding in alarm.
In an instant, iron bars crashed to the floor ahead, cutting off his escape, and he turned to face the beast. The only other exit was blocked by the bulk of the wyvern, folding up its wings and stooping to enter. But as it extended its neck into the room, long tongue flicking expectantly, the second barrier began to fall into place from the jamb of the door. The heavy iron bars hit the floor with a thud and the lowermost crossbrace caught the dragon directly behind the head, driving it to the ground.
The wyvern let out a cry of anger and a large belch of fire that sent Alodar springing to the wall. With a frantic tug, the beast tried withdrawing its head out into the passageway, but the expanse of skull behind the large, opalescent eyes cracked against the stout iron bar.
Alodar scrambled to his feet and cautiously felt his way around the periphery of the room towards the dragon. The wyvern eyed his motion in anger and, between spasmodic struggles against its trap, sent volleys of fire into the chamber to consume its adversary.
In a moment Alodar was at the wall which held the exterior doorway and out of the angle of fire from the wyvern. He quickly dismantled a rod from which a small decorative tapestry hung and advanced on the beast from the side. His hands pained him enormously and he felt giddy from the loss of blood, but he performed his task with determination.
Alodar leaned wearily against the wall with the bloody, brain-spattered bar hanging limply in his hand. How many blows it had taken he could not recall, but only a pulp of bone and flesh remained of the wyvern's head, and the great body lay silent, to flame no more.
The portcullis that led to the balcony raised back into place, and Cynthia cautiously came into the room.
Alodar motioned her to him. 'It is all over,' he said. 'All that remains is to repair our wounds and forget what has happened.' He reached down, grabbed the small tapestry, and flung it about her shoulders. 'Come to my cubicle,' he said. 'I have a small amount of sweetbalm that will help those burns of yours.'
Cynthia nodded her assent and the two found their way out of the building without looking back.
In an hour, Alodar was arching his back and smiling with contentment. The sweetbalm had anesthetized his pain, and the wine from the larder blurred the recent memories and the horror of what might have been. Cynthia
