one good eye. He took a deep breath and brought it back under control. Brought himself under control at the same time, because facing monstrous Lional without focus, without total self-mastery, was tantamount to suicide. He felt his heart ease… felt the brown dragon's breathing slow… felt their blood pound less frantically through their veins.
My veins he told himself sharply as the image of Lional drinking blood assaulted him. And don't you forget if!
The thought of succumbing to the sympathetica was a gibbering fear in the pit of his belly. To lose himself in the mind of a dragon… to turn ravening on his friends, on Reg, and Monk. On Melissande and Rupert who were relying on him to undo the damage he'd done to their country… God, don't let it happen. Please, don't let it happen.
Subduing terror, he made himself think of more practical things. The nearest open space to fight Lional and his dragon was the palace forecourt. He'd have to make his stand there, Kallarapi or no Kallarapi. There was no way he and the little brown dragon could outrun or outfly Lional and his beast. He could hear their casual approach, the scattering of stones, the heavy, roaring breath… they were in no hurry, damn them. For Lional the battle was already won. Why rush breathless to a foregone conclusion?
Yes, well, don't count your victims before they're actually dead, mate. Your royal court wizard's still got a few surprises for you…
With one hand for guidance on the brown dragon's skinny neck, Gerald eased their way out of the bower and around the flowerbeds, the rose-covered trellises and the ornamental shrubs that flanked each side of the palace's grand entrance. The eerie silence over the grounds continued. He couldn't see a soul stirring anywhere. The palace staff, sensibly, remained in hiding or had fled.
But the cavalry's not here yet, either. Damn, I wish they'd hurry. Come on, Melissande, this is no time to be shy. Throw your weight around, have a princessly tantrum. Don't let them bully you, 1 need that helpl
Gravel crunched under his feet, swished beneath the dragon's dragging tail. They were back at the forecourt… and the Kallarapi were gone.
For a moment he was disconcerted, but the feeling quickly passed. Good. If the selfish bastards didn't intend to help him the last thing he needed was them watching him die…
He took a deep breath, banished Shugat, Zazoor and his silent army from his mind… and waited for Lional and the dragon to come into view. Only Lional came.
Gerald fought the impulse to stare into the dragonless sky What the hell was Lional planning…
When the king saw the half-blind drab brown dragon at his side he burst out laughing. 'Oh, GeraldV he gasped, tears running from his crimson eyes. 'Surely you can do better than that?'
He lifted his chin. In his mind, his dragon burned. 'If you surrender now, Lional, you won't be harmed. If you refuse, I'll stop you, both of you, even if I have to kill you to do it.'
'Stop us?' echoed Lional, incredulous. 'With that?' 'With everything I have and everything I am.'
More laughter, this time derisive. 'Well in that case, Gerald, we have nothing to fear,' said Lional, dulcet. 'For we know what you have and what you are. You were revealed to us in the dark, in the cavern. Shall we tell you the truth of yourself?' Now his beautiful smile was cruel. He wore a crown of black flies, feasting on the dried blood in his hair. 'You are a weeper. A moaner. A begger of mercy. A pisser and shitter, who gave in to his pain. Oath-bound and forsworn. Or have you forgotten?'
The words were acid on his soul. / know what I did, Lional. I remember how I sounded and how I stank. I don't need you to remind me of the cavern. I don't need you to do anything but die. if I'm forsworn what does that make you?' he retorted. 'For hundreds of years the kings of New Ottosland have been keepers, not conquerors. Stewards of the people. Your sacred duty was to protect them, Lional, not — '
'The people are subjects!' Lional screamed, his inhuman eyes aflame. 'Ours to kill or kiss as we desire. Now cease your weary prattling, little worm! The time has come for you to die! I offered you greatness and you threw it back in my face. I am affronted, Gerald. You have affronted me. I do not take such an insult lightly. I will kill you slowly for that. I'll make you pay!
And then the sky was full of beating wings and lashing tail and furious tongues of fire as Lional's crimson and emerald otherself plummeted shrieking out of the sun.
The little brown dragon hissed, startled. Hissing again, it reared on its hind legs and beat its dowdy wings in answer. Gerald, hands fisted by his sides, took a lung-bursting breath of acid-soaked air… and kicked down the door protecting his mind from the dragon's.
Heat. Rage. A burning lust for death. Wings and claws and teeth for tearing.
Lional's dragon swooped low and Lional vaulted onto its back, as once he'd vaulted onto poor dead Demon. He rode the dragon as though flesh and bone had melded, skin to scales, a man with wings.
The small part of Gerald's mind that remained just Gerald swore. Oh that's wonderful. I hate flying.
He scrambled on board his own small brown dragon and with the gossamer thread of himself that survived untouched he told his creation to fly, fly. With a rusty roar of challenge and a thrashing of inadequate wings and tail, they leapt into the stinking air towards their crimson and emerald enemy.
Through the first mad moments of fire and torque, as the dragons danced and he held on for his life, he tried to think of a plan. A strategy Some way of dealing with Lional that would work once and for all. Tried to think of something more useful than 'bloody hell, Dunnywood, don't fall off Maybe if I can get Lional out of New Ottosland…
And that might work. Get him over the border and into Kallarap… if its gods were real… if they had true power… the last thing they'd want is Lional in their midst. They'd have to destroy him. They'd have to. So much for Shugat. I'll cut out the middleman.
Even as he decided, the brown dragon swerved left. Headed towards the city, towards the border far beyond it, to the desert of Kallarap and the wrath of its gods.
With a bellow of fury, Lional and his dragon launched in pursuit, streaking flame after them in searing streams. Gerald felt the heat wash over him, felt his small dragon's agony as a whip of flame licked its tail. I'm sorry little dragon! Fly faster-fly faster -
He risked a swift look behind them. Lional was gaining.
Now the city was directly below them, they were flying through smoke from its burning buildings. Eyes smearing, tearing, Gerald stared at the rubble… the bodies… the ruined streets lined with charred skeletal trees. There were people in the open again, milling like sheep without their shepherd, making vague disorganised attempts to do something about the mess.
And then he really did almost fall off his dragon because Shugat was down there. Shugat and Zazoor and the entire Kallarapi army, they were down off their camels and helping the people.
A scream of rage behind him. He turned. Lional had seen Shugat. He was close now, so close. His inhuman face was contorted with fury. Abandoning the pursuit, he and his dragon flung themselves towards the ground. Oh shit. Gerald flung himself and his dragon after them.
Lional's subjects were screaming, scattering, running pell-mell into the park which held the Royal Duck Pond. Shugat stood motionless in the cobblestoned street, holding his ground. Zazoor retreated, the army retreated, assisting Lional's subjects wherever they could. Shugat plucked the rough stone from his forehead and held it high in one outstretched hand. No shield of protection this time. Just a pulse of light and a crack of sound. It was like flying headfirst into a brick wall.
Gerald shouted as he and his dragon bounced off thin air, were struck hard by Lional and his dragon flailing backwards, smacked just as hard by Shugat's invisible hand. Gerald lost his grip and his balance and fell from his dragon's hot back. As he tumbled like a rag doll he caught sight of Lional. He was falling too.
Gerald hit the park's hard ground and felt something break. Pain flooded through him, and in his mind he heard his dragon howl. Somehow he staggered to his feet, the pain didn't matter. He had to stop Lional.
New Ottosland's mad king was unhurt and finding his own feet again several yards from the Duck Pond. Gerald lurched in a circle, looking for Shugat. You can help me now, you bastard.You're bloody going to help me now! But the holy man was gone again. So was Zazoor and his army. They'd melted away like mist under the sun. He felt like crying. Oh damn you. Damn you. Why won't you help… Above his head the dragons were fighting.
It was a hopelessly unequal contest. Lional's dragon outweighed the enchanted skink by hundreds of pounds. Its wingspan was half as wide again, its tail as strong and lethal as a battering ram. Gerald stared at the battling dragons, barely breathing. One well-placed blow from Lional's monster would snap his dragon's spine like
