Tears of a Dragon (29 page)
The shape congealed, amassing solid particles that seemed to flow from Clefspeare’s body like a river of liquid flesh. As the human shape grew more solid, the dragon’s body seemed to fade away. Tanned skin appeared on a man’s face, then pinpoint eyes and a blob for a nose. Hair sprouted, a thick reddish brush that swayed in the breeze, and a pair of ears formed on the sides of his head.
The skin on his blurry torso thickened, transforming into a button-down white shirt with a huge red splotch in the middle of the chest. Shredded material formed on one of the shirt’s long sleeves, and a dime-sized hole appeared on the breast pocket, the same hole the dragon slayer had drilled into his chest with a deadly bullet many months ago. While pants and shoes took shape on his lower body, the man patted his sides with his newly created hands.
At last, his face came into focus, the face Billy had seen in Dragons’ Rest, a lost and lonely librarian who neither loved him nor even recognized him. But now, that face smiled. The man with the bloody shirt, the torn sleeve, and the bullet hole in his chest spread out his arms. “Billy,” he said, “I’m home.”
Billy leaped into his embrace, leaning his head against his father’s powerful chest and wrapping his arms around him. All the bitterness, all the anger, all the fear that had built up in his soul through the months of fruitless searches, all the emotions he had pushed down in his gut while journeying through a literal hell and beyond, finally melted away, pouring out in hot tears on his father’s shoulder. The dragon’s body had completely vanished, and Jared Bannister really was finally home.
Time stood still. Every problem in the world dissolved. No Watcher or wraith or snake demon or dragon slayer or anything else could possibly separate him from his father’s love. Not now or ever again.
A hand touched his shoulder. “Billy?”
He pulled back. Bonnie stood beside him with her hands folded in front of her. “Billy, I need to see about my mother.”
Billy slapped his forehead. “Right! The black stuff nailed her!” He swiveled his head back and forth, then pointed toward a gap in the trees. “That way, Dad?”
Jared stooped and peered through the trees. “I think so, but I was in a mental fog on the way down, so I’m not sure.”
Bonnie beat her wings and lifted into the air. “I’ll find out,” she said, already zooming upward. “You head that way on foot, and I’ll let you know if it’s right.” She waved as she reached the treetops. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Bannister!”
As Billy and Jared ran across a bed of fallen needles, the worries of the battlefield stormed back into Billy’s mind. The Watchers were gone, but Mom was still badly hurt, the professor seemed half dead, Sir Patrick was fighting snake venom, Walter had been knocked for a loop, most of the dragons had been swallowed by the weird black goo, and last but not least, Morgan had to be finished off. Who could tell what she might be preparing in that weird cocoon of hers?
As they neared the forest edge, they could see Morgan’s shroud still standing, its surface glowing with radiant heat.
Billy drew his sword and nodded toward his dad. With his face set like a granite cliff, his father returned the nod. Together they sprinted from the forest. It was time to go to war again, this time with his father at his side.
Chapter 19
Sprinting from the forest, Billy and Jared burst onto a scene that looked more like a movie disaster than a lakefront park. Bodies of humans and dragons littered the area, plumes of fire and smoke dotted the landscape, black goo smeared the grassy field, and the visitor center smoldered far in the background.
Thigocia, the only dragon still standing, shot a stream of fire at another dragon, burning away the oily darkness that had gripped her. The stricken dragon wriggled beneath Thigocia’s superheated shower, her eyes bright and her scales glowing.
Walter pushed a shoulder under Sir Barlow’s arm and helped the knight shuffle toward Ashley’s makeshift infirmary, the huge oak tree where she tended Billy’s mom and three knights. Ashley, pale and moving slowly, helped Marilyn shift her body to a more comfortable sitting position against the trunk of the oak. Marilyn grimaced with every move, but her eyes remained closed.
Billy dashed toward his mother, Jared at his heels. He slid to his knees beside her and gazed at her pallid face. Keeping his voice low, he called to her. “Mom?”
Jared knelt at her other side, his whisper barely audible. “Marilyn?”
Her eyes fluttered open. Seeing Billy first, she smiled weakly. “Ashley said the bleeding stopped. Looks like you’re stuck with me a while longer.”
Billy couldn’t say a word. Too excited even to breathe, he glanced from his mother to his father. It would be perfect if she’d catch sight of him without being told he was there. If only she would look his way!
Finally, Jared took her hand in his, and her head swiveled toward him. She glanced back at Billy, her eyes wide, then, turning again to Jared, she let out a gasp. “Oh!” She boosted herself higher and whispered, “My husband!” She reached out for him with a trembling hand.
Jared swept her up in his powerful arms and cradled her, kissing her tenderly. He rubbed his cheek against hers, whispering, “I’m back, my love, and I’ll never leave you again.” He pulled her closer, his whole body quaking as he pushed his fingers through her hair. “Never!”
Billy pressed his lips together and wiped a tear. This scene was perfect—absolutely perfect.
Walter nudged him in the ribs. “Hey, Your Majesty. You and Ashley had better get with Prof and light him up with the sword. He’s in pretty bad shape.”
Billy rose to his feet, searching the field for the professor. Morgan’s dark cocoon still smoldered in the grass, Thigocia standing nearby, keeping an eye on it as she swept black goo from another dragon. Bonnie knelt next to the victim’s forelegs, cleaning her scales with a rag. “We’ll be finished soon, Mama. How are you feeling?” Hartanna gave Bonnie a hot kiss on the cheek, making her laugh.
Ashley hobbled to Billy’s side, and they made their way to the circle of people surrounding the professor. In the center of the huddle, Sir Patrick sat cross-legged, propping Professor Hamilton up in his arms. His rolled-up pants cuff exposed his wound, pink and less swollen. Ashley’s work.
Patrick looked up at Billy, dirt smearing one cheek on his grave face. “He is breathing, William, and his eyes are open, but if my old friend is in there, I cannot find him.”
Billy crouched near the professor’s head as it lay in the crook of Patrick’s arm. He pushed a sweat-soaked strand of his teacher’s white hair away from his brow. With his steely eyes staring into the sky and his mouth partly open, the professor seemed awestruck, as if gazing at a wonderful sight, or maybe a terrifying one.
Ashley knelt on the other side of Patrick. “I don’t know how much healing energy I have left, but we’ll both give it everything we’ve got.”
Billy nodded. “You better believe we will.” As he reached back to draw out Excalibur, the pendant vibrated again, flashing white and spewing a new burst of sparks. The energy swirled into a bright, cyclonic funnel and spun into the professor’s body, disappearing in a twinkle.
The teacher’s arms jerked. His hands grasped Patrick’s arm. He blinked his eyes, then raised his head, turning to glance at each person in the huddle. When his gaze rested on Billy, his brow lifted. “Billy,” he said, pushing himself out of Patrick’s cradle, “I will need your sword.”
Billy rose from his crouch. As the professor brushed off his clothes, Billy handed him the sword. What could have happened? How did Prof get healed without Ashley or the sword? And why did he say “Billy” instead of “William”? Billy cleared his throat. “So . . . you’re okay, Prof?”
“‘Okay’ is a relative term, Billy.” The professor took the hilt and raised Excalibur to the sky. “But you might say that I am quite ready to end this conflict forever.” He leaned toward Billy’s chest and spoke to the pendant. “This will be over soon, my dears. Stay close to the screen, and we will soon pull you out.”
The professor marched from the circle, Carl and Catherine parting to let him through, and the rest staring at him without a word. As he approached the black cocoon, humans and dragons gathered behind him. He energized the sword, shooting a brilliant laser into the sky, then halted a few feet from the smoldering black mass.
“Morgan!” he shouted, wielding Excalibur in one hand. “Come out and face me . . . if you dare!”
A fresh breeze blew across the field, fanning the rising gray smoke away from the cocoon. Sweat and blood dried under Billy’s sweater, cooling his skin. He shivered.
“Morgan!” The professor angled the beam over the top of the black cylinder, bringing it within inches of the cocoon. “Are you now trembling in fear behind your own skirts? Has the queen been forced into the corner by a mere pawn?”
The cocoon trembled. A crack slowly formed, inching its way from top to bottom until the two sides fell away. The professor set his feet. Billy took a step toward him, but his teacher raised his hand. “No, Son. This is my battle alone.”
Black smoke rose from inside the broken vessel, shrouding whatever lurked within. A sudden wind gust knocked down the two halves of the cocoon and swept away the fog. Morgan remained, standing fully erect and youthful. Only a scarred cheek blemished the smooth skin covering her beautiful, angular face. Jet-black hair streamed past her waist. A devilish smile grew on her ruby lips. “Is it a tired, old professor who taunts me so bravely?”
“I am certainly tired and old,” the professor replied, lifting the beam, “and I have been called a professor—of prophetic ballads, actually, a singing Elijah, if you will.”
Morgan took a step closer and gazed into the professor’s eyes as if trying to read his mind. “Elijah burned in a chariot of fire centuries ago,” she said. “He is nothing but a flash of light in the sky.”
“Elijah has returned, Morgan.” He leaned closer to her. “Do you not recognize your old friend?”
Morgan’s pupils burst into flames. “Merlin!” She floated backwards and thrust her hands in front of her. A swirling black ball shot out from her palms. Merlin vaporized it with the gleaming sword.
Morgan retreated farther, half floating, half stumbling. Fear glazed her eyes.
Merlin stalked toward her. “Defend yourself, you demonic sorceress, you murderer of innocent women and children. Your days of deceit and death have come to an end.”
With a wave of her hands, ten enormous serpents sprouted from the ground, but Merlin whacked their heads off with a single swipe. Black smoke erupted at Morgan’s feet, solidifying into narrow ropes that flew at Merlin and wrapped around his legs and waist.
“
Apoluson!
” Merlin shouted. The ropes ripped to shreds and fell to the ground. He continued his march forward.
Morgan swept a hand upward. Smoke shrouded her, then congealed into a six-foot-tall raven. With a flurry of wings, she vaulted into the air and sped toward the onlookers, her claws extended. She snatched Ashley by the hair and lifted her as high as the treetops. “Promise me safe passage to Avalon,” the raven croaked, “or the girl dies.”
Ashley, her feet kicking the air, grabbed the raven’s legs. “Let me go, you ugly vulture, or I’ll pluck you like a Christmas turkey!”
Bonnie and Thigocia launched into the sky after her. The raven dove away from the dragon, but Bonnie zoomed underneath and latched onto Ashley’s waist. Flapping her dragon wings madly, she pulled the evil bird toward the ground. As they neared Merlin, the raven released her catch, but Ashley held on to the scrawny legs. When they glided within reach, Merlin grabbed the bird by the throat, and Ashley let go. Bonnie swept her safely away and set her down next to Walter.
The raven thrashed her wings and clawed at Merlin’s chest, but the prophet didn’t flinch. He raised his sword hand, and the raven suddenly stopped struggling. She opened her sharp beak and croaked again, her voice sounding thin and strangled. “You and I both know there is only one way to kill me with that sword.”
Merlin relaxed his hold and nodded. “For a hell-bound wraith, you are well acquainted with God’s ways, aren’t you?”
Morgan’s bird eyes flashed scarlet. “A wise man once said, ‘Know thy enemy.’ And I also know that your wife toils futilely where dragons once rested. The dragon savior has come, but there is no one to release the human spirits who still dwell there.”
Merlin laughed. “Well, then, perhaps there are mysteries you have not yet learned.” He nodded toward Billy. “Bring the Great Key.”
Billy glanced at Bonnie and Walter. Both stared at Merlin and Morgan with wide eyes. Billy couldn’t blame them. The whole scene was worse than the most twisted nightmare he could imagine. Too much evil. Too many deaths. And, worst of all, what happened to Prof? As Billy strode forward, he pulled the chain over his head and extended it to Merlin.
The old prophet dipped his head under the chain and let the pendant dangle at his chest. As he straightened, his eyebrows lifted. “Do you have a question, my son?”
A sob welled up in Billy’s throat, but he swallowed it down. “Yeah . . . uh . . . where’s Prof?”
Morgan flailed her wings and squawked, “He’s—”
Merlin tightened his grip on her throat, freezing her in place. “He is in here with me, in this body.” A gentle smile spread across his lips. “Don’t worry, son. I have a final song to sing, and you must try to decipher its meaning. After that, you will see your professor again.”
Clearing his throat, Merlin gazed into the sky, reddish sunlight illuminating his aged face. Then, raising Excalibur high, he began to sing in a sweet tenor.
The war of flesh and spirit raged,
Two soldiers red and white.
They fought with laws and codes of men,
A covenant of strife.
But laws will fail and codes will pass,
Like flowers in the field.
Then faith and hope and love will grow
In hearts that bow and yield.
A dragon bows and honors him
Who suffered wounds and died,
For scales and flesh have common needs
To cast out evil pride.
And now each soul must choose his way,
To walk on feet or claws.
Will flesh or scales become their guide
To follow grace or laws?
The Key unlocks the gates that hold
A mind and soul in place.
Its light transforms surrendered hearts
And changes them through grace.
Now anthrozils may use that light
To make their gems grow pale,
To humanize their dragon marks
And cast away their scales.
The words burned into Billy’s mind, as though he could see a stone tablet chiseled with flaming letters, each word repeated in the prophet’s voice as he read it silently in his thoughts.
Merlin heaved a deep sigh and turned to his audience. “And now I bid you farewell,” he said, bowing politely, “but I trust that I will see you again someday.” With the sword’s beam blazing, he struck the raven’s head. Her black feathers burst into flames, engulfing the huge bird in seconds. Merlin released her neck, and she attacked him, pecking and clawing his head furiously while tongues of fire lashed his shoulders and ignited his clothes. Before any of the onlookers could do anything, both prophet and wraith burst into millions of particles of light. Morgan’s molecules dripped to the ground in a black stream, while Merlin’s white light floated and danced in the sun’s fading glow.
Billy leaped toward the dancing sparks. “No!” he yelled. “You can’t! You didn’t!” He dropped to his knees, holding out a palm as particles of light struck his skin and rolled to the ground. He could barely croak his nightmarish idea of what might be spilling from his hand. “Prof? Is that you?”
The sword and pendant lay in the midst of the shower, the rubellite flashing bright white. “Merlin?” Billy whispered, his voice cracking. “What have you done?”
The sparks of energy slowly piled up in two columns, each one taking a similar human shape—tall and lanky, with a broad forehead and flowing white hair. One of the shapes reached down and touched Billy’s head. He spoke in a soft, familiar British tone. “William, can you see me?”
Billy stood, his heart thumping wildly. He searched the shining face, a young, radiant face, yet somehow still old and wise. The professor smiled. Billy raised a trembling hand to the shimmering arm and touched its tingly surface. “Prof?”
“Yes, William. It is I. My journey to find the king’s star is over, and it is time for me to finally rest.” He laid a hand on the shoulder of the identical shape standing next to him. “Merlin and I will fly to our reward.”
“And Dorcas?” Billy asked.
The professor raised a finger. “Ah! I believe the answer is forthcoming.” He bowed toward Merlin. “After you, my good fellow.”
Merlin narrowed his sparkling hand to a thin line and reached into the pendant’s stone. When he withdrew it, another hand grasped his. He stepped back, and a radiant body of energy, female in form, emerged from the gem and jumped into his embrace. She and Merlin whispered to each other, then she turned and hooked her arm around his elbow.
Billy nodded, giving her the best smile he could. “Good to see you again, Sarah.”
She bent her knees into a half curtsy. “And you, young king.”
The professor inserted his hand into the rubellite and withdrew another woman. Billy recognized Dorcas immediately as she flew into the professor’s arms. “I remember!” she cried. “Charles, I remember!”
