~ * ~
“The castle is to yer liking?” the dragon asked as Darkfest emerged.
“Aye. Who dwells there?”
“Only the memory of the creature who once tried to enslave me.”
“What happened to him?”
The dragon flashed a smile amid a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. “What think ye?”
“I think I would rather not know.” Darkfest looked up, his gaze meeting that of Blackencrill. “Will ye now keep yer word?”
“Think ye I would not?”
“I think I would not like to meet the fate of the giant.”
A low chuckle stirred the air above Darkfest’s head. “Indeed, ye would not.” The dragon lowered his head, putting the hilt of the sword within Darkfest’s reach. “Pull it out.”
Darkfest wiped his hands on his trousers. The sword had obviously been embedded in the dragon’s flesh for some time.The skin around the blade was black and putrid, the smell overwhelming.
“Tis likely to hurt.”
“Do ye think it doesn’t hurt now?” the dragon roared. “Remove it!”
Wrapping both hands around the hilt of the sword, Darkfest gave a mighty tug. The blade tore free with a sickly wet sound. Blood oozed from the wound. It sizzled on the ground, the grass withering and dying wherever it touched.
A drop landed on Darkfest’s cheek and he howled with pain as it seared his flesh.
He glared up at the dragon. “Ye might have warned me!” he exclaimed, tossing the sword aside. “How is she to drink this vile stuff?”
“Ye are the wizard.”
“Aye. Be still now.” Closing his eyes, Darkfest gathered his power. It grew within him, refining his senses, racing like quicksilver through his veins, dancing over his skin. He placed his hands over the wound in the dragon’s neck, the power thrumming through him erecting a barrier of protection between the dragon’s blood and the wizard’s flesh.
“I am Darkfest,” he murmured, his voice like the roar of the wind. “Master of fire and land. Be healed now, dragon, by the power of my hand!”
He felt the power flow down his arms and out through his hands, felt it spread over the dragon’s flesh, burning away the foul infection with the clarity of healing fire. When he stepped back, all trace of the wound was gone.
Darkfest pulled the cup from inside his shirt. “Will ye now fulfill yer part of the bargain?”
“Aye. A single drop, no more.”
Darkfest nodded.
Using one of its fearsome claws, the dragon made a small scratch in his chest. Lifting the cup, Darkfest caught a single drop of glittering bright red blood. It landed in the cup with a soft sizzle.
“My thanks, my lord dragon.”
“And mine,” Blackencrill replied. “I have carried that sword in my flesh for a decade and more.”
Darkfest gestured at a nearby skeleton. “Perhaps ye should have asked one of these to remove it for ye instead of burning the meat from their bones.”
“They came to rob and to plunder,” the dragon replied scornfully.
With a flick of his mighty tail, he gained his feet and stretched his wings. Such wondrous wings, pale green and gold streaked with crimson. Seeming light as thistle down,the dragon rose in the air.
“Be gone before sunrise, wizard,” he called, and with a stroke of his powerful wings, the dragon left the valley.
