in this place. Oh God. I hope so. Time dragged on, sodden with regrets. Later, in the unrelenting black, he thought he saw a pinpoint of light.
He stirred. Stared, blinking. What new torment was this? Lional, returning at last to dispose of his tool? Or demand more damned dragons… or something worse… I can't. I can't.
Ten feet away and six feet in the air, the pinpoint of light grew. Intensified. Glowing, it expanded to the size of a firefly. Against his skin, a sudden tingling crackle of power. Heedless of scrapes and bruises he hauled himself to his feet and leaned against the rough rock of the cave wall, his gaze not leaving the ball of light pulsing before him.
With a flash and a ripping sound the air tore open and three briefly silhouetted figures fell through the hole to land shouting on the cave's dirt floor. 'Owl That's my face]'
'Sorry Melissande. Gerald, are you in here? Um, Your Highness, not to complain or anything but your elbow's in a very precarious part of my anato-'
I'm dreaming. I must be. 'Monk?' he said tentatively, is that you?'
'Oh, yes, fine, ask about Markham first why don't you?' demanded an impossible voice. 'When I'm the one sitting here faded to a mere shadow of my former glory after flying and hitching from here to Ottosland, then convincing Markham and his idiot colleagues that your life was in danger and then risking my life again to get back to this ether-forsaken kingdom using Markham's highly illegal and practically untested portable portal! And why is it so dark in here? Why doesn't somebody turn on the lights?'
For a moment Gerald thought he'd finally gone mad. Because that was Reg's voice, being Reg, in the Reggiest way it knew how.
And then somebody snapped their fingers and said illuminate and he was blinking, half-blinded by the sudden light, and there on the cave floor shaking dirt out of her feathers was -
'RegV he cried, and fell to his knees. 'Oh my God, Reg, you're aliveV
She glared at him. 'Well if I am it's no thanks to your friend the Mad Scientist!' She swung her beak towards Markham and chattered it. 'What kind of a portal exit do you call that? Flinging us out at speed and miles above terra firma, I think I've bent a tail feather, you stupid boy! Do you know how long it takes to grow in a tail feather, you — awwwkV
'Reg!' he shouted, clutching her to his chest. 'Lional said you were dead, he said he'd killed you! He did kill you, look, there's your body! Over there!'
Melissande, grubby and harassed and getting to her feet, stared where he pointed at the forlorn draggle of feathers in the dirt.'Eww What's that?'
'It's Reg,' he said, dizzy with relief. 'At least, I thought it was Reg. Lional told me it was Reg.'
Wriggling free of his embrace, Reg flapped over to the corpse on the cave floor and inspected it. 'That's not me,' she said. 'That's — ' She took a closer look. 'That's a dead chicken hexed to look like me. And it's not even a very good likeness.' She fixed him with a gimlet eye. 'Gerald Dunwoody, are you saving you couldn't tell the difference between me and a hexed dead chook? Please don't tell me you couldn't tell the difference between me and hexed dead chook! Look at it! The beak's all wrong and the eyes are crossed and it's missing a claw on the right foot! And it s fat. How could you possibly think that was me?'
He didn't care that she was scolding, i'm sorry,' he said, getting up. i was a bit… distracted… at the time.' He stared at them, breathless, i can't believe you found me. How — '
'Locator incant and a portable portal,' said Monk. 'A portable por-?' 'Monk invented it,' said Reg.
'Of course Monk did,' he said, dazed. 'But how could it work, Lional set a lodestone, it — '
'What?' said Reg. 'Gerald, what are you talking about?'
Oh, hell. The lodestone. 'Lional hid a lodestone in here so I couldn't escape via magic,' he whispered, nauseous. 'He deactivated it so I could make the dragon… and then he lost himself inside the damn thing's mind. He never turned the lodestone back on. And I've been so busy feeling sorry for myself I — ' i don't know what you're bleating about and I don't care!' said Melissande. 'What the hell were you thinking, Gerald? Making a dragon?' i'm sorry' he whispered.
'How did you do it?' she demanded, hands fists on her hips. 'Transmog a lizard? What kind? The only exotic lizards we have live in the zoo, and none of them look like that flying monstrosity you've set loose!'
He could barely look her in the face, it was a Bearded Spitting Lizard from Lower Limpopo. Lional said Bondaningo Greenfeather got it for him.'
'That's a HeV Her eyes were hot with anger and betrayal. Glittering with tears. 'Bondaningo was a good man. He would never bring something like that into the country!' i'm afraid he did. Your brother can be… very persuasive.' iil bet!' she said, contemptuous. 'So what did he promise you in return for his dragon? Gold? Jewels? Land? Wlrat did he promise you?'
He made himself meet her furious gaze. 'You don't want to know what he promised me, Melissande.'
With a subdued flutter of feathers Reg flew from the floor to his shoulder. 'She may not want to, Gerald, but she needs to. It's the only way she'll understand what has to be done.'
Gently he prised Reg free. 'No,' he said, thrusting her blindly into Monk's unready hands. 'And don't ask me again.' Monk cleared his throat. 'Look, mate…'
'Are you deaf? / said no' he shouted, and turned away.
'He tortured you, didn't he?' said Monk. He always was a stubborn bastard. 'Tortured him?' said Melissande. 'Don't be ridiculous. He looks fine to me, there's not a scratch on him.'
Her fresh contempt was like acid. Gerald spun around, shaking, and whatever she saw in his face drove her backwards till she struck the cave wall.
'I'm sorry, all right, Melissande? Sorry I wasn't strong enough, sorry I gave in to him, sorry I made his bloody dragon!'
Her chin lifted. In so many ways she was her brother's sister. 'Sorry doesn't help the people it's killed. Did you know that, Gerald? Did you know that it's killed people?'
'Yes. I know.' He saw them whenever he closed his eyes.
'Then how could you do it? How could you make such a monstrous creature? Why weren't you strong enough? You're a wizard, you swore an oath). You as good as killed those people yourself.'
'You think I don't know that?' he demanded, his voice ragged. 'You think I don't know I've got their blood on my hands? I tried to resist your damned brother, Melissande! I did resist him, at least for a while. But in the end… in the end…' Helpless, he stared at her. 'In the end I wasn't good enough. I broke. I failed.'
'That's not fair,' Monk said quickly. 'We know what Lional's been up to, Gerald. The stolen potentias.We know he had access to illegal grimoires, the kind of filthy magic he's got at his fingertips.'
Melissande turned on him. 'How dare you make excuses for him, Mister Markham? Haven't you been listening? People have died because Gerald made that dragon. He's an oath-sworn wizard, he should have died before — '
'Do you think I didn't try?' Gerald said, grabbing her elbow and hauling her around. 'He wouldn't let me, all right? Everything he did was designed to keep me alive. Alive and — and — ' 'And what?' she said. Her tone was scathing.
He opened his mouth and the memories poured out. By the time he was finished she was crying, Monk looked like a ghost and Reg was stamping to and fro across the cave's dirt floor swearing a blue streak.
'There's something else you should know,' he said tiredly, as Reg finally ran out of curses. 'Lional's controlling the dragon using the Tantigliani sympathetica!
Melissande smeared a dirty sleeve across her wet face. 'What does that mean?' she said unsteadily. it means your brother and the dragon are two bodies with one mind. He sees through its eyes, it breathes with his lungs. It's got all his cunning, his intelligence, his knowledge. And he's got its… savagery'
Shaken, Monk said, 'Bloody hell. Every wizard who's ever tried that incant has gone mad. Even Tantigliani in the end.' He frowned. 'You said he'd lost himself inside the dragon's mind? Does that mean…'
Gerald looked at Melissande. Despite everything he could have wept for her. 'Yes.' In his memory, Lional and the dragon whispering. 'I'm pretty sure it's too late for Lional.'
Reg rattled her tail feathers. 'Then the only way to stop the dragon is by capturing the king.'
'How can we capture him, Reg?' said Monk. 'He's as good as half a dragon himself now!'
'Fine,' she said, shrugging. 'Then we don't capture the bastard. We kill him.'
'Kill him?' Melissande stared. 'You can't! / can't! He's my brother!'
