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The two were better than the dragon had hoped. The Patryn female was actually
healing the Thing, which was fine with the dragon. Saved it time and trouble,
gave it a stronger victim, one who might now live until next nightfall. As for
the Patryn, she was young and defiant. She would last a long time. The male
the dragon was unsure about. He was the one with the peculiar smell and no
magic about him whatsoever. More like an animal, a deer, for example. Not much
sport to him, but he was large and well fleshed. The dragon would have no need
to go out in search of a meal this day.
The dragon waited until it saw the Patryn's rune-magic wholly consumed by the
healing process. Then it moved.
The dragon crawled slowly out of the darkness of the cavern. The tunnel seemed
large to Hugh, but it was small for the dragon, which had to duck its head to
creep beneath the overhang. Hugh stood his ground, assuming that the dragon
would wait until its entire body, including the stinging tail, was out in the
open before it would attack. The Sartan knife squirmed in Hugh's grip.
He held it up in challenge, willed it to change form to fight the dragon.
If it had been possible, he would have sworn that the knife seemed ill at
ease, unsure. Hugh wished he understood more about the Cursed Blade, tried
frantically to recall everything either Haplo or Alfred had said in regard to
it. All he could come up with at the moment was that the blade was
Sartan-made. And at that moment it occurred to him that the Labyrinth and the
creatures in it including this dragon had also been made by the Sartan.
The blade was confused. It recognized the same magic inherent in itself, but
it also recognized threat. If the dragon had remained patient, gone after
Marit, the Sartan blade would not have altered form. But the dragon was
hungry. It planned to catch and devour Hugh; then, with a comfortably full
stomach, it could go after the other, more difficult prey. Most of the
dragon's body was still inside the back part of the cavern; it could not yet
use its tail in the attack. But the dragon didn't think it would need such an
advantage. Almost lazily, it swiped out a clawed forefoot, intending to impale
Hugh the Hand and eat him while his flesh was still warm.
The move caught Hugh by surprise. He ducked and flung himself backward. A
giant claw raked across his stomach, tearing the leather armor as if it had
been finest silk, slashing through flesh and muscle.
At the attack, the Sartan blade was quick to respond. It wrenched itself free
of Hugh's grasp.
A gigantic sweeping tail knocked him aside. Hugh rolled across the cavern
floor, bumped up against Marit and Alfred. The two looked terrible Marit now
almost as bad as Alfred. Both seemed dazed, barely conscious. The Hand
regained his feet quickly, prepared to defend himself and his helpless
companions. He stopped, frozen, staring.
Two dragons were inside the cavern.
The second dragon actually the Cursed Blade was a gorgeous creature. Long and
slender, this dragon was wingless; its scales sparkled and gleamed like myriad
tiny suns, shining in a blue-green sky. It dove for its victim before the
Labyrinth dragon had time to fully assimilate what was happening. The
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blue-green dragon's head darted in close, jaws opened and snapped shut on the
Labyrinth dragon's neck.
Shrieking in fury and pain, the red dragon twisted out of its captor's grasp,
freeing itself but leaving a bloody chunk of flesh in its enemy's mouth. The
red dragon heaved its body from beneath the overhang, its tremendous strength
literally bearing back the attacker. The bulbous tail struck out, stinging the
blue-green dragon again and again.
Hugh had seen enough. The dragons were fighting each other, but he and his
friends were in peril of being smashed by the flailing, struggling bodies.
"Marit!" He shook her.
She was still holding fast to Alfred; her face was gray and drawn, but she was
now alert, staring at the two dragons in astonishment. Alfred was conscious,
but he obviously had no idea where he was, who was with him, or what was going
on. He was gazing about in dazed perplexity.
"Marit, we've got to get out of here!" Hugh shouted.
"Where did that other dragon " she began.
"The Cursed Blade," Hugh answered shortly. He bent over Alfred. "Grab his
other arm!"
Hugh instructed her needlessly. Marit had already taken hold. Between the two
of them, they dragged Alfred to a semistandtng position and half dragging,
half carrying him headed for the cave opening.
The going was difficult. Their way was blocked by reptile bodies that twisted
and grappled. Slashing clawed feet tore up the dirt floor. Enormous heads
cracked into the cavern ceiling; rock shards and dust drifted down on top of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]