Last Dragon Standing
Page 12
And in that moment, all Keita could think was, Ooops.
Ragnar stopped, his eyes briefly closing in pure irritation. “Tell me you didn’t do what I think you just did.”
“It’s not like I had other options. I’m still chained!”
“You have to be the dumbest—”
“It’s not my fault!”
He sensed that would be her eternal mantra, which explained why he was already sick of hearing it.
“Kill them, you fools!” someone commanded from the tower gates.
Ragnar let out an annoyed sigh. “Thank you very much, princess. You just made this harder and probably upset that overly sensitive brother of yours.”
Rather than being concerned about their lives or anything else he’d said, the spoiled royal demanded, “Did…did you just call me princess or prince- ass?”
“Does it matter?”
Vigholf and Meinhard had their shields at the ready, their swords drawn. The Blue, however, stood between the dragons and the humans, his hands raised. “Wait, wait! This isn’t necessary. We can all work this out!” The body Ragnar held shook.
“Are you laughing?”
“Isn’t he cute? Two years away with blood-thirsty brutes and he’s still as adorable as the day he was hatched. I was, in point of fact, the first face he ever saw when he hatched his way out of his shell. My mother had told me to tell her when it was happening, but I didn’t want to. I wanted him all to my—”
“Shut up.”
“Did you just tell me to shut up?”
“Yes.”
“You rude, self-centered, egotistical—”
That was when Ragnar tossed her off his shoulder.
Vigholf blinked. “What the hell are you doing?”
“We’re leaving her. Finish the execution!” he called out. “She’s all yours.”
“We’re not leaving my sister!” the Blue protested.
“Then you can stay and be executed right along with her. I, however, am leaving.”
“How could you?” the princess wailed from her place on the ground.
“To leave me here to die! Like an animal in the street! Will no one care for me?”
“Shut up.”
“Oy!” The Blue shoved him. “That’s my sister you’re speaking to!”
“Do that again, boy, and I’ll make you more like your sister than you’d like.”
From his crouched, battle-ready position, Meinhard asked, “Is this really the time for this argument?”
Vigholf pushed his shield forward to ward off the weapons aimed at him. “What do you want us to do, brother?”
The soldiers were getting bolder, starting to prod with their pikes, pushing at Vigholf’s and Meinhard’s shields.
True, there were many things they could do in this situation to save more than not, but Ragnar wasn’t in the mood to bother.
“Kill them all,” Ragnar ordered.
“Or we can run,” the Blue threw in desperately, still trying to save the humans.
“Run? Away?” Vigholf shook his head, disgusted.
“If you try to harm anyone”—the Blue swallowed—“you’ll force me to defend them.”
Ragnar, unable to help himself, snorted at that “threat.” The Blue frowned. “Now what does that mean?” The ground beneath their feet rumbled, and Ragnar looked down, watching dirt and stone pop up as something moved under them.
The commanding officers of the guards ordered their men back as the ground in front of Ragnar and his kin exploded around them, and something he’d only read about in books burst into the open air.
“What,” Vigholf demanded without backing down, “in all the battle-fucks is that thing?”
Unlike Ragnar, Vigholf didn’t read many books. So to see something that was as long as Ragnar was in dragon form, but not as wide, gold scales glistening in the two suns and a mane of black and gold fur trailing from the top of its head down its spine to its tail did nothing but confuse him. Plus the creature had no horns but antlers; no talons but fur-covered striped claws like Ragnar had seen on big jungle cats. It had fewer fangs and more chewing teeth than either the Horde dragons or the Fire Breathers; and no wings, yet it floated on the air as easily as any winged dragon could. In other words, a being that would not only horrify Vigholf with its oddness but Meinhard as well.
Yet it wasn’t something that unusual, if Ragnar remembered his readings correctly. It was simply an Eastland dragon.
Circling over them without any wings, the foreigner unleashed flame.
What was strange was that although the flame covered everything within a hundred feet, no one was harmed.
Ragnar raised his hand and ran it through the flame. He felt no heat, no pain. And yet it wasn’t an illusion. He felt the strength of the flame blowing against his hand. Strange. Just…strange. No wings, no sharpened tail, and no bite to his flame. What a weak kitten, this dragon.
The flames stopped, and they were now all alone, the streets completely deserted.
The foreigner shifted while he still hovered in the air, and, with a shocking amount of skill, his human form floated to the ground, bare feet lightly landing on the cobble-stoned street. The Eastlander paused a moment to shake out his straight black hair, the tips appearing as if dipped in gold.
“Everyone all right?” he asked.
“Ren! Thank the gods!” the princess cried out, making Ragnar snarl, just a little. “You’ve come to rescue me!”
Ragnar stopped, his eyes briefly closing in pure irritation. “Tell me you didn’t do what I think you just did.”
“It’s not like I had other options. I’m still chained!”
“You have to be the dumbest—”
“It’s not my fault!”
He sensed that would be her eternal mantra, which explained why he was already sick of hearing it.
“Kill them, you fools!” someone commanded from the tower gates.
Ragnar let out an annoyed sigh. “Thank you very much, princess. You just made this harder and probably upset that overly sensitive brother of yours.”
Rather than being concerned about their lives or anything else he’d said, the spoiled royal demanded, “Did…did you just call me princess or prince- ass?”
“Does it matter?”
Vigholf and Meinhard had their shields at the ready, their swords drawn. The Blue, however, stood between the dragons and the humans, his hands raised. “Wait, wait! This isn’t necessary. We can all work this out!” The body Ragnar held shook.
“Are you laughing?”
“Isn’t he cute? Two years away with blood-thirsty brutes and he’s still as adorable as the day he was hatched. I was, in point of fact, the first face he ever saw when he hatched his way out of his shell. My mother had told me to tell her when it was happening, but I didn’t want to. I wanted him all to my—”
“Shut up.”
“Did you just tell me to shut up?”
“Yes.”
“You rude, self-centered, egotistical—”
That was when Ragnar tossed her off his shoulder.
Vigholf blinked. “What the hell are you doing?”
“We’re leaving her. Finish the execution!” he called out. “She’s all yours.”
“We’re not leaving my sister!” the Blue protested.
“Then you can stay and be executed right along with her. I, however, am leaving.”
“How could you?” the princess wailed from her place on the ground.
“To leave me here to die! Like an animal in the street! Will no one care for me?”
“Shut up.”
“Oy!” The Blue shoved him. “That’s my sister you’re speaking to!”
“Do that again, boy, and I’ll make you more like your sister than you’d like.”
From his crouched, battle-ready position, Meinhard asked, “Is this really the time for this argument?”
Vigholf pushed his shield forward to ward off the weapons aimed at him. “What do you want us to do, brother?”
The soldiers were getting bolder, starting to prod with their pikes, pushing at Vigholf’s and Meinhard’s shields.
True, there were many things they could do in this situation to save more than not, but Ragnar wasn’t in the mood to bother.
“Kill them all,” Ragnar ordered.
“Or we can run,” the Blue threw in desperately, still trying to save the humans.
“Run? Away?” Vigholf shook his head, disgusted.
“If you try to harm anyone”—the Blue swallowed—“you’ll force me to defend them.”
Ragnar, unable to help himself, snorted at that “threat.” The Blue frowned. “Now what does that mean?” The ground beneath their feet rumbled, and Ragnar looked down, watching dirt and stone pop up as something moved under them.
The commanding officers of the guards ordered their men back as the ground in front of Ragnar and his kin exploded around them, and something he’d only read about in books burst into the open air.
“What,” Vigholf demanded without backing down, “in all the battle-fucks is that thing?”
Unlike Ragnar, Vigholf didn’t read many books. So to see something that was as long as Ragnar was in dragon form, but not as wide, gold scales glistening in the two suns and a mane of black and gold fur trailing from the top of its head down its spine to its tail did nothing but confuse him. Plus the creature had no horns but antlers; no talons but fur-covered striped claws like Ragnar had seen on big jungle cats. It had fewer fangs and more chewing teeth than either the Horde dragons or the Fire Breathers; and no wings, yet it floated on the air as easily as any winged dragon could. In other words, a being that would not only horrify Vigholf with its oddness but Meinhard as well.
Yet it wasn’t something that unusual, if Ragnar remembered his readings correctly. It was simply an Eastland dragon.
Circling over them without any wings, the foreigner unleashed flame.
What was strange was that although the flame covered everything within a hundred feet, no one was harmed.
Ragnar raised his hand and ran it through the flame. He felt no heat, no pain. And yet it wasn’t an illusion. He felt the strength of the flame blowing against his hand. Strange. Just…strange. No wings, no sharpened tail, and no bite to his flame. What a weak kitten, this dragon.
The flames stopped, and they were now all alone, the streets completely deserted.
The foreigner shifted while he still hovered in the air, and, with a shocking amount of skill, his human form floated to the ground, bare feet lightly landing on the cobble-stoned street. The Eastlander paused a moment to shake out his straight black hair, the tips appearing as if dipped in gold.
“Everyone all right?” he asked.
“Ren! Thank the gods!” the princess cried out, making Ragnar snarl, just a little. “You’ve come to rescue me!”
