Fire might protect you, but ice will still kill him. I assure you, his death will be more painful to you than anything else I could do, the dragon says, her voice soft and lilting in my head. I look at Golmarr and the mist swirling around his feet in the exact moment the glass dragon blasts her breath at him. Without thinking, without understanding how, I thrust up a tall wall of flames between Golmarr and the dragon. When Corritha’s breath hits it, the fire billows and scatters like gold stars and then re-forms into a wall. The white breath turns to pale wisps of steam that disappear against the sky. The dragon blows another blast of freezing air and tries to scatter the fire, but it holds. On one side of the fire wall, the golden grass is encased in solid, immovable ice. On the other side, the grass ripples in the wind; there isn’t so much as a speck of frost on it.
A wave of hatred shudders through my body. You think you have won this battle simply because you have used Zhun’s magic to shield my breath, but you are no match for my strength, little girl, the dragon says. Her great, spiked tail sails through the air, and for a moment the memory of the fire dragon’s tail crushing my ribs makes my knees tremble. Clutching my staff to my chest, I dive forward and roll onto slick, frigid ice just as the tail soars over my head. The dragon swings her tail again, and I dig my staff into the ice, trying to move out of the way. Her tail collides with my hip, and I slide across the frozen ground. Before I can get up, a massive foot lowers over my body, its claws shattering the ice I am lying on, but stops before it crushes me. Slowly, one tiny bit at a time, the pressure increases. I swing my staff at the creature’s hind leg—at the bloody gash made by Golmarr—but it merely bounces off the green scales.
Every knight in shining armor feels it is his duty to save a helpless maiden, Corritha says. You are my bait. I know the hearts of men well enough to know that the noble ones will risk their lives to do what they think is right. If he is noble, he will come and try to save you, and then I will have the pleasure of freezing him and eating him before your very eyes. If he is not noble, I will slowly crush you. A forked tongue darts out of the dragon’s mouth and touches my face. And then I will eat you, and he will be eaten up with guilt until the day he dies. The pressure on my body increases until I feel my ribs start to bend inward, and I cannot breathe.
From the corner of my eye, I see Golmarr in his bright cloak start sprinting toward the dragon. As the dragon draws in a massive breath of air, the mist hovering on the ground is sucked toward her mouth.
“Stop,” I try to shriek to Golmarr, but I cannot get enough breath into my lungs. Golmarr runs faster, and the dragon’s mouth is opening. Reaching toward the fire still hovering in a straight line along the grass, I pull it to me and throw it in the dragon’s gaping mouth just as a blur of blinding vermilion streaks over my head and onto the dragon’s leg. Golmarr lifts the reforged sword and plunges it into the dragon’s side, all the way to the hilt. The moment the sword pierces through the scales, the pressure pinning me to the ground eases. Golmarr pulls his sword out and thrusts it into the great beast again. The reforged metal cuts through the dragon’s inky green scales like they are great drops of water. The talon lifts off my body and the dragon hisses as she tries to snap Golmarr from her back, but he ducks and thrusts again, plunging his sword into the space where the dragon’s neck meets her body, and then yanks it free. Slowly, the dragon tips to her side and lands beside me with shattering force. Shards of ice explode around the creature’s body, creating a cloud that shimmers like diamonds in the sunlight and pierces my skin.
Golmarr pulls me to my feet and wraps his left arm around my waist, dragging me away from the dragon, his sword still poised to strike. But the great beast merely watches us while her huge chest slowly rises up and down. Blood is pouring out of the three sword wounds, making a growing pool of red around the dragon’s body.
My eyes meet Golmarr’s. They are tight with pain, and my heart starts to pound with fear. Something is horribly wrong. Tears spill from his eyes and stream down his face, mixing with blood on his left cheek. “How badly are you hurt?” I ask, cupping his cheek in my hand and running my thumb over the cut. It is merely a shallow scrape. “Where are you hurt? Where is this pain coming from?”
“I’m sorry,” he gasps, and leans his forehead against mine. “I am so sorry, Sorrowlynn.” He grabs my face with his left hand and looks into my eyes. The agony I see there makes me sick, and I wonder if he is about to die.
I shake my head. “Please don’t die,” I whisper. “Please.”
“Listen to me,” he says. “No matter what happens, I want you to know that I would have fought by your side until I died. I would have protected you with my own life.” I press my fingers to his mouth to silence him, for every word he speaks tears at my heart and makes it hard to breathe. He clasps my fingers and moves my hand away. “I have to leave.” He steps from me and slowly lets his fingers slide over mine.