“Take back my fire.”
The heat, like weights, pressed her down into the ground. She could not breathe.
“Take it and live, my child!”
She closed her eyes.
Somewhere, so far away that Una almost could not hear it, a wood thrush sang.
She squeezed her eyes, strained to better hear. The sound – silver notes like bells in the morning – swelled. The song grew and grew, filling her head, drowning out the Dragon’s voice, driving away the fumes in her mind.
I love you, Una.
Won’t you return to me?
She lifted her eyes to the dark sky above the Dragon’s head, above the inferno eyes.
“I would rather die,” she said.
The Dragon’s jaw lowered, and she felt the heat of his furnace building. But above his head she saw a tiny being on wings, singing in silver bells as it flew.
I love you, Una.
As she watched, the thrush darted into the mouth of the Dragon. Then Una saw Aethelbald, her Prince, kneeling on the monster’s tongue, sword in hand. Even as flames rose in the Dragon’s throat, the Prince stabbed into the roof of its mouth.
The Dragon screamed. Like the ocean in a storm. Like hurricane winds tearing a city apart. Like mountains, thought immortal, tumbling in a mighty avalanche of stone. He screamed and reared up, fell backward, writhing and convulsing, knocking down buildings and smothering his own fires beneath his body.
Una fled the market square, down to the docks and the storm-tossed sea. She flung herself into the water to escape the rain of fire, and clung to posts of a pier as waves beat over her. The roar filled her ears, and hot ash sizzled in the ocean around her. She watched the Dragon flail and flame in death agonies until she had to hide her face in her arm.
At last all was still.
–––––––
In the water, Una shivered with sudden cold. Above her in the city, fire crackled and died away to nothing. A tiny wind touched her face, spraying her with light droplets, and disappeared.
Una waded to the shore and climbed onto land, her clothes heavy on her light frame. Smoke bleared her eyes and choked her, but she stumbled up the ghostly path to the market square. The demon voices were hushed into empty, gaping silence. She did not speak, hardly breathed as she went, and her footsteps made no sound on the stones. The smoke was thicker every step she took, but she would not turn back.
In the market square lay the Dragon.
His body had crushed the former city center, devastating the buildings to dust underneath him. The heat from his dead fire rose like a wall around the body, but Una fought her way through.
The Dragon’s mouth was open, and his great black tongue draped across the stones. Poisonous smoke filled Una’s nostrils, and she gagged. She peered between rows of teeth.
The sword remained thrust into the Dragon’s upper jaw. But the blade glowed red with heat and was twisted like wire, the silver hilt melted like wax.
“No,” Una whispered, shaking her head. “No, you promised.”
She dropped to her knees as the heat and smoke overwhelmed her senses. “Aethelbald, don’t leave me. . . . Not yet.” She wrapped her arms about herself, bending so that her forehead pressed into the stone. “Please don’t leave me. I’d rather die than live without you now!”
Her hands clutched her chest, feeling beneath her skin the heartbeat so strong inside her. It was his heart, not her own, but she felt it must break. “Please, my love! Don’t leave me alone!”
“Una.”
She would not look up but turned her face away.
“Una, look at me.”
“No!”
“Una.”
Strong hands reached down and took her own. Real hands, warm.
“Una, I’ve come back for you.”
“No!” She tried to pull away, but he would not let go.
“Una, I am no ghost.” One of the hands grasping hers loosened and turned palm up. She saw there two red stripes of blood, fresh blood drawn by the blade of a grabbed sword. “Does a ghost bleed?” he asked gently.
Slowly she raised her face. Kind eyes, infinitely deep and clear, gazed into her own. “I told you I would come back for you, didn’t I? No matter what.” Aethelbald smiled and wiped ash from her face. “Do you not believe me even now?”
“I . . .” Her voice broke with a sob, and she flung herself into his arms, clinging desperately. Aethelbald held her, stroked her hair, and murmured, “It is over now. The danger is past. I will never abandon you. I will never abandon you, Una.”
–––––––
Dawn found the black carcass of the Dragon. The light of the sun pierced through the fading dragon smoke, disintegrating the body to ashes. A sweet breeze carried the ashes away to the desert and scattered them across the sand.
38
Fidel stood with his son just outside the broken gates of Oriana Palace, his arm around the boy’s shoulders. They did not speak but watched the fires die in the city below.
At last Felix asked, “What will we do now, Father?”
“We will rebuild,” Fidel said.