Everything around him melted away like mist until all he could see was the dragon. Slathbog seemed to freeze as well, still and silent, as he and Alex looked deeply into each other’s eyes and minds.
Alex could clearly see the dragon’s thoughts and his lust for carnage and destruction. All Slathbog wanted was to hoard wealth and cause pain. There were no happy thoughts in Slathbog’s mind. Alex saw, though, that there was a terrible longing for happiness inside of Slathbog because joy was the one desire the dragon did not know how to fill. Looking deeper, Alex saw something he had not expected. Fear was at the center of Slathbog’s mind and heart—fear of Alex and his friends, fear that he would lose his hoard, and fear that his evil was at an end.
Alex felt Slathbog’s fear working through the dragon’s heart and mind. He realized he was stronger than Slathbog. He knew he and his friends would claim the dragon’s hoard. He also knew, without a doubt, that Slathbog was about to die.
In a rage of anger and hate, Slathbog coiled, preparing to throw himself at Alex. Slathbog would crush his enemy, even if it meant his own death, but as his fear took hold of him, the spell over Alex’s friends was broken.
Tayo suddenly charged at the dragon with a wild yell, driving his long spear into Slathbog’s side. The spear sank into Slathbog’s body where his great wing met his coiled body.
Slathbog roared in pain, flexing his wings wildly. One wing caught Tayo in the chest, knocking him across the chamber. Slathbog turned away from Alex, trying to dislodge Tayo’s spear. Alex saw his chance. Raising Moon Slayer, he ran forward, driving the sword into Slathbog’s side just behind his front leg. A second, even more terrible roar filled the hall, followed by mad thrashing as Slathbog struggled to free himself from the burning sword in his side.
Alex held onto his sword with all his strength. Hot dragon blood covered him, but Alex continued to drive his sword deeper into Slathbog’s body. He could feel the power of Moon Slayer working inside of him, and he felt like he was on fire. His heart filled with a terrible joy more powerful than anything he had ever felt before, and he almost laughed out loud.
Then as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Slathbog lay motionless at Alex’s feet. The fire that had burned inside of Alex was cooling. He pulled his sword from Slathbog’s body, feeling that at last he had done something worthy of praise and honor.
The others stood dumbfounded, looking at Alex who was covered in dragon’s blood. Skeld finally broke the silence.
“Tayo,” he cried, rushing to their fallen comrade. “Tayo, are you still alive?”
Tayo mumbled something unintelligible. They crowded around their friend, not knowing what—if anything—they could do to help him.
“Help me wash this filth off,” Alex said, thinking quickly. “And boil some water.”
The others sprang into action. Bregnest and Arconn helped Alex wash off most of the dragon’s blood that covered him. Thrang quickly lit a fire and started water boiling. Skeld, Halfdan, and Andy tended to Tayo, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.
Alex knelt at Tayo’s side, dripping wet and white-faced. Tayo’s cut was shallow, but his face was already deathly pale. The edges of his wound seemed burned from the heat of the dragon, and Alex worried the wound might be poisoned.
Thrang brought the boiling water over as Alex retrieved the Dragon’s Bane from his bag. To his surprise, the plant seemed to have grown overnight. Carefully, he plucked two of the dark green and red leaves and crushed them in his hands. The fresh leaves crumbled into powder as he rubbed his hands together, and Alex carefully added them to the boiling water.
The fresh, clean smell of springtime filled the hall, bringing hope to Alex’s heart. Taking a clean rag from his bag, Alex began cleaning Tayo’s wound with the mixture he’d made.
“What is this plant?” Arconn asked, looking at the small plant Alex had set aside.
“It’s called Dragon’s Bane,” answered Alex, without looking away from Tayo. “I found it yesterday, just outside our camp.”
When Alex had finished, Skeld stitched Tayo’s wound closed and put a dressing on it.
Alex retrieved Iownan’s book from his bag and started flipping through the pages. He asked Thrang to boil some more water.
“Do we have black tea, milk, and honey?” Alex asked the others hopefully.
“Plenty of honey, but very little milk,” said Thrang, retrieving the items from his bag.
“We only need a little,” Alex replied, taking the milk and honey from Thrang.
“I only have green tea, will that do?” Thrang said.
“I have some black tea,” said Halfdan, quickly reaching for his own magic bag.
Alex sat down beside the fire Thrang had started and brewed the black tea from Halfdan. He crushed two more Dragon’s Bane leaves and added them to the tea along with the milk and honey. He checked his book to make sure he was doing everything right, muttering the spell that went along with the potion that he was trying to make. When he had
finished, he returned to Tayo, a full cup of the potion in his hands.
“He needs to drink this,” said Alex, looking at the others nervously.
“Let me,” said Skeld, holding out his hands for the cup. “I’ve force-fed sleeping men before.”
Alex handed Skeld the potion. Skeld forced Tayo’s mouth open and held his nose. Halfdan sat on Tayo’s legs, while Skeld used his knees to pin Tayo’s arms down. Then Skeld carefully but forcefully poured the tea into Tayo’s mouth.
Tayo coughed a little as he swallowed, but did not open his eyes. Alex thought he saw some color return to Tayo’s face, but couldn’t be sure. “All we can do now is wait,” he said.
“Do not be sad,” said Skeld with a faint smile. “Tayo knew this might happen, yet still he came.”
“We all knew that this might happen,” Bregnest added. “Few were as prepared for it as Tayo.”
“He’s not dead yet,” Alex said loudly, an angry edge in his voice.
“You are correct, my friend,” agreed Arconn, putting a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “And we all hope for his recovery, but dragon wounds are deadly. Even your growing skill with magic may not be enough to cure him.”
Alex nodded, feeling sadness dragging him down like a great weight hanging around his neck. Even his companions’ happiness about the treasure that was theirs did not cheer him, nor did their retelling of how he slew the dragon. He remembered Tayo’s interest in the wall between life and death, but, unlike Bregnest and Skeld, Alex did not think Tayo was prepared to meet death. If anything, he thought Tayo feared the wall and what was beyond it.
Alex’s sorrow changed to anger as he looked at Slathbog’s dead body on the chamber floor. Tayo had saved his life, attacking when he did. Tayo had made it possible for him to destroy Slathbog without losing his own life in the battle. Now Alex could do nothing for Tayo but wait to see if his friend would live or die. Slathbog and his evil were to blame for all of this, and as Alex thought about it, his anger began to burn inside of him.
Alex stood up, a deadly rage growing inside of him as he walked toward the smoldering body of the dragon. His anger was hotter than the power of his magic sword had ever been. All he could think about was his hate for Slathbog and his evil. The others were focused on Tayo and did not see the terrible look of pure rage on Alex’s face. They could not feel the great sorrow he was feeling.
“Inferno!”
Alex screamed, his feelings pouring out of him with the word, his eyes fixed on the body of the dragon.
Slathbog’s dead body instantly burst into blue-white flames, lighting the entire chamber. There was no noise or smoke as Slathbog incinerated in the intense heat of Alex’s anger. The rest of the company watched with open mouths and wide eyes as Alex walked back to them and dropped to the ground beside Tayo.
D
ays passed but Tayo remained unchanged. If anything he was growing even more pale and weak, and Alex would seldom leave his side for any reason. The rest of the company spent their time sorting through the dragon’s hoard. When they returned in the evenings, they would tell Alex about the vast piles of treasure they had searched through and the wonderful things they had found. Alex smiled at their stories, but a deep sorrow had settled inside of him, and he wondered if he would ever feel happy again.
Sometimes Andy would sit with Alex at night, watching Tayo, worried and troubled. After the third night of Andy’s vigil, Alex asked him what was wrong.
“There is a custom among adventurers of our land that if one saves another, there is a debt of honor,” Andy said. “The debt can only be repaid in one of two ways. Either the adventurer in debt—or a member of his family—must save the life of the honor holder, or a member of the family in debt must offer the honor holder their share in the primary treasure collected on another adventure.” Andy looked down at Tayo’s pale face. “My family owes Tayo a debt of honor,” he said softly. “Long ago he saved my father’s life, and we have not been able to repay him.”
“Tayo is the honor holder, and you fear he will die before you can repay him,” said Alex, feeling Andy’s sorrow.
“It is more than that,” said Andy, his eyes remaining on Tayo. “If the debt is not repaid, my family will lose honor forever. A black mark will be placed against us in the records of our land.”
“He has not crossed the wall yet,” said Alex, trying to sound hopeful.
“But he is near it,” Andy replied. “I had hoped to repay my father’s debt on this adventure. But I fear I have failed.”
Alex could see by the troubled look on Andy’s face that the idea of losing both Tayo and his family’s honor were of great concern to him.
The next day, Arconn forced Alex to come up into the sunlit ruins of Varlo with him. The fresh air was pleasant, but the cold winter sun did little to warm the desolate city or to burn away Alex’s sadness.
“I fear Tayo is moving toward the wall,” said Arconn, looking at Alex. “I do not think I can call him back.”
“Would you try?”
“Not willingly,” replied Arconn, looking over the ruined city. “Though I have nothing to fear at the wall, I do not wish to see the shadowlands again.”
Alex remembered his talks with Calysto and what had happened when she had called him back from the wall. He had not shared the details of the experience with his friends, but he understood Arconn’s words and feelings.
“How long will the dragon’s wasteland last?” Alex questioned, changing the subject.
“With Slathbog dead and reduced to ashes, his hold over the land will begin to fade,” answered Arconn. “The fields will turn green again this spring, I think.”
“I would like to see that,” said Alex, looking across the bleak and empty lands.
“You may have the chance,” said Arconn. “The treasure is far greater than even legend says. It will be some time before it is all sorted and divided. Plus, with so much snow, it would be difficult for us to travel anywhere.” Arconn nodded to the three feet of snow that covered the ground.
“Has anyone found the crystal of the White Tower yet?” Alex asked, a strange thought forming in his mind.
“Not yet. Though it has only been four days.”
“I will come and look for it,” said Alex, his thoughts taking a definite shape.
“A noble task, though dangerous. Perhaps more for you than any of the others.”
“What’s an adventure without a little danger?” said Alex, laughing grimly.
That afternoon, after checking on Tayo, Alex went with the others to search Slathbog’s hoard. While the others were happy that he was doing something besides watching Tayo, Arconn was nervous and worried.