Teresa Medeiros (34 page)

He struggled out of her grip. “I can’t just lay here on my belly, lass, and let him slaughter us. If I can lure him out, then you can use your magic to defeat him.”

“That might not be such a good—” She grabbed for his ankle again, but he had already vaulted over the rim of the ditch and was striding boldly toward the center of the meadow. She scrambled up to stand at the edge of the ditch, refusing to cower while he marched so bravely to his doom.

The rumble swelled until she couldn’t tell its rhythmic
boom-boom
from the shuddering of her heart. In that very moment when she thought she would scream if something didn’t happen, Brisbane’s creation came crashing out of the forest, paralyzing her scream into a squeak.

From its spiny tail to its majestic head, the dragon was armored in shimmering emerald scales. Tabitha recoiled, squinting at the curious creature. It wasn’t a particularly graceful dragon. It came galumphing across the meadow, huffing and puffing like one of Puff’s asthmatic cousins from the land of Honah Lee. If one of its clawed feet hadn’t been large enough around to squash Colin into the grass, leaving nothing but a smear, it might have been comical instead of intimidating.

As its clumsy charge gathered speed, its fat legs pumping like pistons, Tabitha whispered, “Please, God.” Suddenly it wasn’t enough to invoke some watered-down concept of a Higher Power. This time, she was placing a person-to-person call to Colin’s God, in all of His might, majesty, and mercy.

Colin had taken his stand in the middle of the meadow. He stood with legs splayed and sword outstretched, refusing to betray even a trace of fear. He’d probably been dreaming of this moment since boyhood. Just waiting for the opportunity to engage an enemy who wasn’t chosen by his king or his church, but was instead a monster of pure malevolence, deserving of its fate.

As the dragon raced toward him, it threw back its serpentine head and loosed a bone-rattling roar that made Tabitha long to clap her hands over her ears.

Instead, she covered her eyes with her hand, unable to watch Colin fling himself into the jaws of death as he had so many times in the past. But when she stole a peek
through her fingers, he was glancing over his shoulder at her. And that one panicked glance proved once and for all that Sir Colin of Ravenshaw had finally found something to live for.

He looked at the charging dragon; he looked at her. Then he began to frantically backpedal his way across the meadow.

“Tabitha!” he yelled. “Do something!”

Laughing through her tears, she reached for the amulet before remembering it wasn’t there. She would just have to rely on her own God-given talents this time. Her magic might not be strong enough to defeat Brisbane’s enchanted dragon, but she could certainly put something in its path to distract it.

She just hadn’t planned on that something being a brigade of shuffling mummies. One minute she was wishing she knew what her mother would do in a situation like this and the next, the meadow was full of moaning zombies. How her brain had made the connection between “mommy” and “mummy” she would never know. The creatures shambled blindly about, arms outstretched, tattered wrappings trailing through the grass behind them. Oh, well, she thought ruefully, at least they weren’t mummers.

The dragon stormed right through them, his massive tail cracking like a whip. He stomped on some and hurled others high in the air like crash test dummies, snapping off heads and limbs with equal glee.

Tabitha grimaced, shooting God a silent prayer of thanksgiving that Colin hadn’t met a similar fate. At least the mummies were already dead. She frowned. Or were they undead?

Having made short work of her first line of defense, the dragon whirled around, searching for fresher prey. Colin had made it to the shelter of a lone oak, but
between the dragon and the tree lay a squirming saddlebag.

Tabitha gasped. Lucy! The saddlebag must have fallen off when Colin’s stallion had dashed for the forest.

Her frantic wish had the opposite effect she’d intended, for suddenly the meadow was teeming with kittens of every hue. They milled around the dragon, rubbing their furry little heads against his squat legs and mewing plaintively.

She cast Colin’s tree a desperate glance, wondering if he was beginning to suspect her magic had gone haywire without the amulet to direct it.

The dragon might have begun making hors d’oeuvres of the bewhiskered darlings if Arjon hadn’t come staggering out from a nearby stand of oaks, sneezing with every breath. It was fortunate his eyes were watering so badly he couldn’t see. Tabitha feared the sight of that many felines might send him into a panic.

She must have done something right, for with her next breath, the kittens vanished, leaving Lyssandra free to dart out and drag Arjon back to their shelter. But the squirming saddlebag remained, a vulnerable target for the dragon’s wrath. Tabitha held her breath as he waddled over to it, each thud of his clawed feet shuddering the ground. There was something disturbingly familiar in the way his aristocratic nostrils flared as he lowered his massive head and sniffed at the leather pouch.

Tabitha dared not trust any more of her desires to wishes. It was almost as if Colin knew what she was going to do before she did. He started out from behind his tree at the precise moment she went running across the meadow, holding her skirt high and yearning for a sturdy pair of Dockers.

Terrified the dragon was going to devour the helpless
kitten in one chomp, she dove for the saddlebag, planning to scoop it up and race for the woods before the dragon even saw her. She might have succeeded if not for the extra inches of silk Granny Cora had sewn to her hem. Just as she snagged the pouch and hooked it over her shoulder, the clinging fabric tangled around her legs, sending her sprawling to her knees at the dragon’s feet.

“Don’t move, Tabitha,” Colin barked from directly behind her. “Don’t even breathe.”

Having never been particularly good at following orders, Tabitha slowly lifted her head to find the dragon’s jagged, glistening teeth an inch from her nose. His breath reeked of carrion and brimstone and she began to tremble in primitive horror.

But nothing was more horrible than the sound that rumbled from his throat when he threw his head back to the sky and began to laugh. It was in that moment that both she and Colin realized that Brisbane hadn’t just summoned a demon from the bowels of hell. He’d turned himself into one.

And hanging around his scaly neck on a golden chain as thick as a man’s forearm was Tabitha’s amulet.

CHAPTER
28

“T
his incarnation suits you, Roger. I always knew you were a monster at heart.”

Tabitha ached to see Colin’s face as he spoke, but didn’t dare move a muscle. Brisbane the Dragon chuckled, sending an icy chill down her spine. A spine soon to be crushed by a foot the size of a California redwood.

“Better a monster than a saint. At least we monsters are allowed to indulge our appetites with delectable morsels such as your lady. Perhaps just a taste …” Before either of them could react, the dragon’s tongue darted out, licking her from chin to forehead.

Shrieking in disgust, Tabitha came up swinging. She would have nailed Brisbane on his bulbous snout if Colin hadn’t grabbed her around the waist and dragged her backward. Her joy at being in his arms again was eclipsed by terror as Brisbane stalked them across the grass. Miraculously, the saddlebag was still hooked over her shoulder. Lucy was beginning to wiggle in earnest.

Colin kept his left arm anchored firmly around her waist. His right was occupied with his outstretched
sword, the gleaming blade all that stood between them and disaster.

Brisbane sighed, making them both recoil from the foul stench of his breath. “ ’Twill be the fulfillment of a life’s dream to pick my teeth with your bones.”

“I’d rather pick your teeth with my sword,” Colin retorted.

The dragon’s lumbering steps picked up speed, forcing them to waltz backward in double time. Smoke was beginning to roil from those gaping nostrils.

“Now might be a nice time for one of your spells,” Colin muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Given her current run of luck, Tabitha was afraid she’d wish them inside the dragon’s stomach and spare him the inconvenience of swallowing them. “I think you’d better take care of this one. After all, you are my hero,” she whispered back.

“Do you mean …?”

She nodded. “It’s the only way.”

But still he hesitated. “Are you sure, lass?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

He gave her a squeeze that warmed her all the way to her bones.

“Bidding your whore a tender farewell?” Brisbane growled. “How touching! I’d weep if I weren’t so happy.”

Tabitha suspected his good cheer didn’t bode well for either of them. Her suspicions were confirmed when his tail lashed out, knocking them both off their feet. Colin bore the brunt of their fall, but before he could recover, that pesky tail of Brisbane’s snaked around her ankle and began to tug.

Colin grabbed for her, but Tabitha fought her way free from his desperate grip, knowing he would need both hands for what he must do. She tried not to panic
as she went sliding across the grass toward Brisbane’s yawning maw. Her fingernails dug into the dirt, but found nothing of substance to cling to.

“You’ll be sorry if you eat me,” Tabitha shouted, casting Colin a frantic glance. “I’ll give you the worst case of heartburn you’ve ever had.”

The dragon loomed over her, baring his teeth in a ghastly smile. “What’s a little indigestion among friends?”

Tabitha could almost hear the cold smile in Colin’s voice. “We’re not your friends.”

Without warning, he leaped over her and charged. A battle cry tore from his throat as he shifted his grip on the sword’s hilt, using both hands and every ounce of his might to ram the blade through the amulet and into Brisbane’s black heart.

The dragon flung back his head, unleashing a deafening roar of rage and pain. Tabitha went sailing as the beast’s mighty tail thrashed from side to side, uprooting trees and tearing great gouts of earth from the meadow. Colin let go of the sword, tumbling back to the grass just in time to roll to safety.

Tabitha landed fifty feet away in a clump of soft grass. She clapped her hands over her ears, screaming without even realizing it as the sky darkened and a web of supernatural lightning enveloped the dragon. His roar went on and on until it became a high-pitched keening—half beast and half human. Tabitha closed her eyes and when she opened them again, the meadow was drenched in sunshine and Lord Brisbane lay on his back in the grass, Colin’s sword protruding from his chest and blood trickling from the corner of his pale mouth.

She drew Lucy from the knapsack and buried her mouth in the kitten’s soft fur. It was done. Colin was free from his past and she from her future. They were
free to build a life together in the present, free to savor every precious moment as if it were to be their last.

She rose with Lucy in her arms, wanting her loving smile to be the first thing Colin saw when he staggered to his feet.

He was already standing. His people were swarming out from their hiding places to clap him on the back, but Tabitha could barely hear their shouts and cheers. Maybe the dragon’s unearthly howl had temporarily deafened her. Frowning, she held Lucy to her ear. The kitten’s purr seemed as boisterous as ever.

Colin cast a frantic glance in her direction. “Where’s Tabitha?”

She cocked her head to the side. Oddly enough, she could read his lips, but she couldn’t hear him.

“I’m right here,” she shouted.

Then with an icy chill, she realized she wasn’t.

For the sun no longer warmed her and the whisper of the wind stirring the tall grasses was nothing but a memory. There were no chirping birds or whirring grasshoppers. The meadow had no more substance than a watercolor painting, glimpsed briefly on a museum wall and seen afterward only in dreams.

She clutched Lucy, who with her downy fur and stout little body, had become the only thing of substance in her universe.

That was when she realized they had made a horrible miscalculation. They had assumed that destroying the amulet would forever close the door to the future, not send it crashing open.

Colin was gazing at the place where she should have been in helpless horror. Arjon and Lyssandra had joined him, their own faces reflecting their bewildered dismay. Oh, God, what did they see? she wondered. A ghostly
outline of a woman clutching a cat, tears streaming down her face?

Tabitha began to run toward Colin, longing only to reach him before she faded away altogether, longing to breathe the leather and woodsmoke scent of his skin one last time so she would never forget it. But the grass no longer crunched beneath her feet and every step she took seemed to carry her farther away from him.

She was still running when she saw Brisbane sit up, wrench the sword from his chest with inhuman strength, and draw back his arm to hurl it at Colin’s back.

A scream tore from her throat, but she was the only one who heard it. Then everything went black and the meadow and Colin were gone forever.