Page 33 of Prince of Shadow and Ash
On instinct, he rolled to the side. The dragon slammed its snout into the cave floor as Regulus struggled to his knees.There. His sword lay only a few feet away. The dragon growled and shook its head. It raised a massive forefoot to step on him. Regulus waited as long as he dared before darting forward, his gut wrenching.
The claws hit the cave floor with a sharp clack. Dust and pebbles flew. Regulus crawled forward and grasped the hilt of his sword. He rolled onto his back as the dragon lunged again, its tongue flicking between its teeth. From his back, Regulus thrust his sword up as the dragon’s open mouth descended. He looked away, clenching his eyes shut and grimacing. Some part of him wondered whether he would finally die if the dragon bit him in half.
Sword met flesh. The dragon’s growl vibrated his arms. The force of the dragon’s attack drove the sword down, but Regulus pushed up, his eyes still pressed closed as the dragon’s breath scorched his skin. His sword pulled to the side, and he lost his grip. He opened his eyes to the dragon staggering and pawing at the sword buried deep in the roof of its mouth. Smoke curled from its flaring nostrils and its eyes rolled, turning white. He staggered to his feet while drawing his hunting knife. The dragon roared and flailed, sending gold and jewels flying.
Regulus jumped forward and skirted a blindly thrown foot. He stumbled over the whipping tail. Coins pinged off his armor. His wound had closed. It still throbbed, but it was healed. The dragon, still holding its mouth wide open, looked up at the cave ceiling. Regulus jumped onto the monster’s leg, clutching the knife with both hands. He pushed off the leg with a shout and leapt toward the dragon’s throat, his gaze fixed on the paler, less scaled patch.
With every ounce of his strength, he thrust up into the dragon’s throat. The knife dug into the center of the spot. The dragon screeched. Regulus pushed the blade in deep. The momentum of his jump spent, he fell. With a grunt, he yanked the knife back out and bubbling deep green blood flowed out, splattering over his armor.
He landed hard on the ground as the dragon stumbled. Regulus scurried back. With a crash, the cacophony of treasure being scattered, and the scrape of scales on stone, the dragon fell. The cave shook and Regulus stumbled. Its eyes rolled around in its head, then went still. A great sigh rushed through the cave like wind, and the dragon stopped breathing.
Regulus watched, unmoving. His nerves buzzed and his muscles twitched. He crept forward and nudged the dragon’s muzzle with the tip of his boot.Dead. He exhaled heavily, wrenched off his helm, and tossed it away with a clatter. His hands on his knees, he gulped in putrid air as if he had been drowning. Which, he supposed, he probablyhadnearly drowned, choking on his own blood. With a shudder, he vomited. Bloody bile splashed onto his dragon-blood flecked greaves.
All this pain. All this suffering. Being dragged back from the brink of death. Forwhat? What was so Etiros-forsaken important to the sorcerer about these artifacts and relics? Why did the sorcerer make him do all this? And why wouldn’t it just end?
Some part of him whispered he could have let the dragon eat him. Couldn’t be brought back from digestion, right? Then again, sometimes the power of the sorcerer frightened him.
But no. He wouldn’t give up, not now. Not this close to being free, not after he’d fought for so long. Not after everything his friends had done for him; after he’d promised to keep going. He thought of Dresden.“You’ll get through this. I’ll help.”They stayed for him; he could stay around for them.
As the burning in his throat and mouth subsided, leaving behind a sour taste, Regulus straightened. He eyed the dragon. He’d killed countless dozens of violent beasts over his years as a mercenary. Gryphons, ice serpents, manticores, therarns—creatures of the deserts like great cats but covered in scales, and more. He’d never felt remorse for any of them. They had terrorized innocent people. But this dragon’s only offense was being in the sorcerer’s way. He shook the twinge of pity for the beautifully fearsome creature away. It had attacked him. Still, part of him whispered it hadn’t needed to die.
He reached for the bag and realized it had fallen off.Wonderful. His boots clacked on the cave floor as he circled the dragon’s head. Its mouth was open, and Regulus struggled to force it open further. His muscles strained as he pressed on its lower lip, the dragon’s body already hardening. He had to crawl on its massive, serpentine tongue to reach his sword. It took a bit of effort to dislodge it from the back of the monster’s mouth. Then he moved the dragon’s jaw again to retrieve his hunting knife.
Wonder if my dagger’s still in its foot. Sure enough, it was. He pulled it out, and hands full of green dragon blood-soaked blades, he began looking for his bag. Gold and silver coins, goblets, jewel-encrusted necklaces, and even a couple crowns were strewn about the cave. He searched in the fading light of the dying torch, which had been knocked to the ground during the brawl. He spotted the bag and reached in, holding his breath. His fingers closed around thick metal wire. He closed his eyes and released his breath.
He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped off his blades before he returned them to their respective sheaths. Riches glittered in the torchlight. He paused, then added a few jewel-covered gold trinkets to the bag. If he was going to play mercenary for the sorcerer, he might as well get paid. His weary steps dragged as he picked up the torch, fetched his helm, and left the dragon behind.
The torch didn’t last long, and he had to make his way based on where the air smelled freshest. After running into a couple walls, he walked with his hands held out in front of him.Etiros, please. Get me out of here.Eventually, he spied a faint light, and made for it. The light grew blinding. As fresh air blew into his face and he glimpsed green, he sighed in relief.
Thank you.If Etiros still heard him after all he had done, Regulus didn’t know. But he needed to believe he wasn’t alone.
Chapter 12
THE CORRUPTION AROUNDthe sorcerer’s tower had spread again. The dead trees started sooner. Charcoal leaves, as if they had been scorched, littered the forest floor and maintained a fragile grip on blackened branches. The white branches closer to the tower swayed, dead fingers clawing the sky. Sieger whinnied and snorted, tensing beneath Regulus.
“I know, boy.” He rubbed Sieger’s neck. “I don’t like it, either.”
