“Aye, lass.” He understood all too well. The darkness she spoke of was the darkness that dwelled within him, but how did she know of it? If she stayed with him, would it begin to overshadow her, as well? Troubled by that thought, he released her hand and rose to his feet.
“My lord?”
“Dinna fret, lass. All is well. We will reach the valley of the dragon on the morrow.”
Chapter Twelve
They reached the home of the dragon late in the afternoon the following day.
Dismounting, Darkfest stared down into the valley that so many had entered and from which none had returned.
He had thought they would have to hunt for the dragon, but Blackencrill was there for all to see, his deep green scales shining iridescent in the sunlight. Small puffs of smoke wafted from his nostrils as he slept, his long body curled around a shining blue castle that shimmered like an enormous sapphire. Trees, shrubs, and grass all wore the scorch marks of the dragon’s breath. The remains of charred skeletons, both man and beast alike, were scattered across the valley floor.
The dragon stirred, a low rumble of pain issuing from his throat, along with a short burst of scarlet flame. Lifting his great horned head, he took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring.
It was then that Darkfest saw the hilt of the sword protruding from the dragon’s flesh. Embedded in the dragon’s massive neck, the weapon looked no larger than a woman’s embroidery needle.
“Who goes there?” The voice of the dragon was as the sound of a rusty saw being dragged over stone.
“My lord…”
“Be silent, Channa Leigh. Dinna move. He canna see ye.”
Gathering his courage, Darkfest dismounted and moved away from where she sat her horse. Walking slowly, he descended several yards, then came to a stop. The scent of smoke and charred flesh filled the air.
“I am Darkfest, master of fire and flame.”
What might have been a laugh filled the valley, followed by a greatwhooshof orange flame that incinerated a nearby tree.“Thou? Master of fire and flame?” Another laugh as the dragon sent a tongue of flame arcing toward him.
Gathering his power around him, Darkfest summoned a ball of dark blue fire and flung it out to meet that of the dragon. There was a great fiery explosion as the flames met in mid-air. Sparks of blue and scarlet rained down on the ground.
“Who art thou?” demanded the dragon. His tone now carried a faint note of respect.
“I am Darkfest, wizard of the north. The name of Blackencrill is known throughout the land and I have come seeking a boon at thy hand.”
“A boon? Of me? What is it ye seek?”
“A drop of thy blood.”
“And what will ye give me in return?”
“I will remove that sword from thy flesh and heal thy wound.”
“Who is the woman that awaits thee?”
“My betrothed.”
“And if I want the woman?”
“Ye cannot have her. She is mine.”
“What need have ye of my blood?”
“It is to restore her sight.”
“Ye intrigue me, wizard of the north. Come closer.”
“Do I look a fool?”
