Heartless

An evil laugh filled the courtyard as the Dragon threw back his head, shoulders heaving. “Foolish child.” He showed every tooth in an awful smile. “I am your Father and this is my house now, remember? So of course I shall enter and take what belongs to me. And you will help me. Come, girl, before I lose my sense of humor.”


Within three paces she lost all human semblance and was in full flame, fire bursting from deep inside her, hotter than she had ever before burned, so hot that the stone steps of the palace began to melt, and she focused all on the spot where the Dragon stood. The black figure disappeared in the onslaught of blue and red fire. Screams from dozens of soldiers were soon drowned out in the awful roar of her fire. The world was nothing but flame; nothing but heat filled every sense.

At last she stopped and staggered back, poisonous smoke filling her eyes. But even as she stood blinded she heard the Dragon’s laugh again, fuller and deeper than before.

“Was that all you had inside?” With a sweep of his arm he cleared the smoke, revealing himself unsinged upon the melting steps. “I misjudged you. I thought your flame far greater than that!” He opened his mouth, his jaw dropping grotesquely to his chest, and his own flame billowed forth, sweeping over her.

She stumbled back as though struck with a mace, turning her massive head away. At first her dragon hide absorbed the heat. But soon she felt a change. The fire became so hot, it penetrated under her scales to her soft flesh, and the scales themselves burned and melted.

She screamed. A high, inhuman, hideous scream that shattered glass, then rose in intensity and horror. As she screamed she struggled to escape, but the inferno surrounded her no matter where she turned. She thought she could bear no more, but it went on and she did not die.

When the Dragon swallowed his flame, he towered over her, black and monstrous, his crest upraised like a kingly crown, his wings arched behind him.

“Foolish sister!” he roared, snarling down on her smoldering frame. “You thought to kill your king, your Father? I gave you your fire! Do you think you can use my own flame against me?”

He smacked her, his claws tearing into her burnt flesh. She screamed again and crawled away, her torn wings beating feebly on the ground.

“Try it again, dragon!” He struck her a second time and a third. “Burn me! Let your flame build up and smolder inside as you smolder outside. Come on, dragon!”

Where the strength came from she could not say, but with all that was in her she pushed herself to her feet, sucked in a great gulp of air, and took to the sky. The Dragon King laughed at her flight, sending more flames after her, but he did not follow.

“Go!” he shouted. “Finish yourself off! I’ll find you later and gnaw your bones, my child! I’ll gnaw and burn your bones!”





35

She could not fly far, for her wings were shredded and disintegrating like burned leaves. The young dragon fell from the sky no more than a mile from the city and lay where she had fallen on the sand by the sea. Her breath came in uneven gasps, and each one caused searing pain through her whole body. She closed her eyes and slipped into darkness, knowing that she was dying.

Her mind filled with images and sounds crowding together and vying for dominance. The images were all from her life – from her very earliest memories of playing with Felix down by the Old Bridge, to much-hated lessons with her tired-eyed tutor, to Nurse’s funny old face. Over the visions and collage of colors, she could hear voices, such familiar voices.

“Trust is knowing a man’s character, knowing truth, and relying on that character and truth even when the odds seem against you.”

“Oh, my love is like a white, white dove, soaring in the sky above!”

“I can only pray he will prove worthy.”

“Oh, my love is like a fine, fine wine . . .”

“I cannot bear to watch these suitors of yours, knowing I have no right to . . . to pursue you myself.”

“ . . . If only she’d be mine!”

“Will you trust me?”

“ . . . a sweet, sweet song . . .”

“Una, trust me.”

“Oh, my love . . .”

“I will trust him till I die!”

At the sound of her own voice shouting those last words, fire blazed up in her mind. Such a lie! Her trust had broken, shattered along with her heart. All that was left inside burned and burned, destroying the images in evil flames, destroying the voices of her loved ones.

The Dragon’s eyes, like liquid fire, swallowed her, and she choked and drowned in flames. This was death, then; this was the end of all dreams.

A wood thrush sang like a silver bell, high and sweet.

I love you, Una.

She opened her eyes unwillingly. The murmur of waves on the shore filled her ears, and gentle rain fell upon her burning skin, at once painful and soothing. Tears mingled with the rain, and those drops hurt most of all, yet she did not flinch away.

She gazed up into Aethelbald’s face. He held her scorched body tenderly in his arms.

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