Ultimate Magic

Time for battle!

Rhita Gawr’s wide mouth slavered, sending a river of drool down his chin. He could almost taste, at last, the fruits of his labors. Victory. Conquest. Destruction of all his enemies, in this world and others.

His monstrous eye flashed, tinting the noxious fumes blood red. Nothing, he knew, could stop him now. The dark thread continued to fill him with power—immortal power. In just a few more minutes, he would be absolutely invincible—strong enough to bring his rule to Avalon, and brutal enough to vanquish anyone foolish enough to try to oppose him.

He opened his mouth to roar triumphantly again. But just as he started, the noise died in his throat. He then bellowed, not in triumph but in rage, shaking the entire swamp with the force of his wrath.

His enemy! He sensed the nearness of his foe, eager to attack. His eye, blazing with fury, roved all around. Wherever that enemy was right now, painful death would follow.

Krystallus, clinging to the troll’s body, felt the red glare of the eye fall upon him. Uncontrollably, he shuddered. Had he been discovered? So close to his goal?

The eye, however, moved past him. It turned, burning with hatred, toward the far side of the Marsh where clouds of fumes rose skyward. Krystallus, too, looked in that direction, following the troll’s gaze.

Basilgarrad!
Wings spread wide, carrying Merlin himself, the great green dragon burst through the clouds. He flew straight at the monstrous troll—and into battle.

PUFFIN BOOKS

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First published in the United States of America as
Merlin’s Dragon: Ultimate Magic
by Philomel Books,

a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2010

Published as
Ultimate Magic
by Puffin Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2011

Patricia Lee Gauch, Editor

Text copyright © Thomas A. Barron, 2010

Map of Fincayra copyright © Ian Schoenherr, 1996

Map of Avalon copyright © Thomas A. Barron, 2004

All rights reserved

THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS HAS CATALOGED THE PHILOMEL BOOKS EDITION AS FOLLOWS:

Barron, T. A. Merlin’s dragon. Book three, Ultimate magic / T. A. Barron.

p. cm.

Summary: The dragon Basilgarrad leads the ultimate battle to save the land of Avalon, and, finally, must decide whether to obey his dear friend Merlin’s request, even though it means giving up his powers as a warrior.

ISBN : 978-0-399-25217-4 (hc)

[1. Dragons—Fiction. 2. Magic—Fiction. 3. Fantasy.]

I. Title

II. Title: Ultimate magic.

PZ7.B27567 Mfn 2010 [Fic]—dc22 2009041645

Puffin Books ISBN 978-0-14-241926-7

Design by Semadar Megged

Text set in ITC Galliard

Printed in the United States of America

Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out , or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

Dedicated to

Anne Schieckel, Lisette Buchholz, and Irmela Brender—

who have done so much, with great skill and passion,

to bring my stories to German readers

P
ROLOGUE

For a big surprise, I look for a small mystery.

Basilgarrad lifted his enormous head, scanning the rolling meadows that reached to the distant trees. His dragon’s eyes glittered as his powerful shoulder muscles tensed. Both of his furled wings—each one big enough to hold the entire body of a normal-sized dragon—shook with anticipation, their bony tips clattering against the scales of his back.

A breeze suddenly stirred, bending the blades of grass around him. To his own surprise, he caught some of his favorite scents. Dank woodland mushrooms. Cedar resins, both sharp and sweet. Tangy apples, so ready for eating they would almost peel themselves in a young elf’s hands. Enchanted spiderwebs, sturdy enough to hold a boulder. Fresh spray from the headwaters of the River Relentless.

For an instant, taking in those rich aromas, he remembered why he treasured this realm, this world of so much life. So much magic. And why, if necessary, he would die to protect it.

His gargantuan tail, ending with a massive club, slammed against the ground. Tremors shot in all directions, cracking open crevasses in the meadows and shaking the faraway trees. For he had smelled, just then, a very different scent.

The scent of battle.

Allies, from all across Avalon, marched swiftly toward him. Muscular centaurs, stamping their hooves, loped to his side. Close behind came men and women who carried rakes and staffs and swords, elves who bore great hunting bows, and dwarves who shouldered double-bladed axes. Plus many other creatures ranging from burly bears to tiny field mice who brought nothing but their brave hearts.

More allies, too, dotted the sky. Eagles swooped down from the heights, hawks with bright red tails glided nearer, and owls floated out of the trees. Soon the air reverberated with their screeches, hoots, and cries.

Yet Basilgarrad peered past them all. For he was watching a dark swarm of jagged-winged warriors that had just appeared over the horizon. Fast they flew, coming closer by the second. He knew them all too well: fire dragons—over a hundred of them.

His nostrils flared. He could smell, even at such a distance, their charred scales and bloodstained claws. And he knew that only he had any hope of stopping them.

The great green dragon shifted his gaze—and what he saw made him dig his claws into the turf. Flamelon warriors! An immense mass of those battle-hardened warriors, trained beneath the smoky volcanoes of Fireroot, started to stream onto the meadow. Armor glinting, they marched steadily nearer. With them came powerful catapults, great machines that could fling heavy stones and vats of boiling oil. They also brought one more contraption, a pyramid-shaped tower so large that it took more than fifty flamelons to drag it across the ground.

Staring at the huge tower, whose wheels creaked noisily, Basilgarrad released a low, wrathful growl.
What in the name of Avalon is that thing
? he asked himself.
Whatever it is, I don’t like it. Not at all.

Although the mysterious tower made him feel uneasy, he quickly forgot about it, for his thoughts had turned to a far greater concern. The fate of his world, the Great Tree whose early days he had witnessed so long ago and whose many wonders he had seen over the centuries. Avalon was, as his friend Merlin once said, more than just a truly remarkable place. It was, in fact, an
idea
—that so many diverse creatures and realms could live together in peace, at least for a time.