I CE
What makes people so eager to fight me? I guess they don’t put much value on my life. Or on theirs.
A colossal splash exploded, sending jets of water soaring skyward. For leagues around, fish and water birds and mer folk scattered, trying to escape whatever had hit the sea with such force. Even kelp and floating scraps of driftwood, pushed aside by the powerful waves, seemed to swim away.
Basilgarrad had arrived in the Rainbow Seas.
He scanned the ocean around him, laced with iridescent streaks of color, then drew a deep breath of the briny air. Paddling with his wings, as if they were enormous flippers, and using his immense tail as a rudder, he turned himself around to face the rugged coastline. Following the line of sheer cliffs, he saw, directly ahead, the mouth of a huge cave. Colorful shells ringed the entrance, barnacles by the thousands clung to the rocks, and the air smelled of fish and otters and seals.
Basilgarrad peered at the gaping mouth of the cave, hoping this was the place he’d been seeking. Yet his thoughts were heavy with doubt. This isn’t what I expected.
He frowned, knowing that time was short. He couldn’t afford to spend days and days searching for Bendegeit’s lair. The blight was spreading—and whatever was causing it, and Avalon’s other troubles, was surely growing stronger.
All at once, ocean spray shot upward right in front of him. Three great heads rose out of the waves—heads with massive, teeth-studded jaws, deep blue eyes, and finlike ears. The heads of water dragons. As the trio lifted higher, water cascaded off their ears and snouts, pouring over scales the color of glacial blue ice.
The dragons drew themselves together, linking their powerful shoulders. Barring the way to the cave entrance, they looked like an impassable wall that had suddenly jutted out of the sea. A wall with countless blue-tinted teeth.
“Come no closer,” bellowed the dragon in the middle, who was somewhat larger than his companions. “Or you shall die.”
Facing these fierce guardians of the cave, Basilgarrad said to himself, “Now that’s what I expected.”
Treading their flippers, the trio of water dragons advanced, holding their close formation. “Leave now,” ordered the middle dragon, whose face bore a deep scar across his snout.
“I come in peace,” declared Basilgarrad, still watching them carefully. “I must speak with your highlord Bendegeit.”
“No one speaks with the highlord unless he so commands. Now leave.”
“But I—”
The middle dragon tossed his head impatiently, spraying his companions. The scar on his snout turned bright silver, the color of dragons’ blood. “Leave! I shall count to three. One.”
“I told you, I mean no harm.” Recalling Merlin’s firm admonition—avoid any battles—he repeated, “I come in peace.”
The guardians advanced. “Two.”
“Honestly, I—”
“Three. Charge!”
At the dragon’s command, all three guardians swam forward, moving with astounding speed. Jaws open, eyes ablaze, they shot toward the intruder who dared to refuse to leave.
Basilgarrad, however, moved faster. Pulling his wings—which were much longer than the flippers that water dragons normally encountered—out of the sea, as fast as a pair of whips, he smashed the heads of the two outside dragons. Their skulls struck both sides of the middle dragon’s, making a loud crrunnnch . As water sprayed all around, the two outside dragons teetered and fell over sideways, knocked unconscious.
The scarred dragon, stronger than the others (or just thicker in the skull), managed to stay upright. Though dazed, he roared wrathfully and started to attack, blowing a torrent of blue ice from his nostrils. Calmly, Basilgarrad solved this problem with a flick of his mighty tail. When the massive knob landed another blow on the water dragon’s head, he keeled over, joining his companions.
To make sure they didn’t drown, Basilgarrad wrapped his tail around
What makes people so eager to fight me? I guess they don’t put much value on my life. Or on theirs.
A colossal splash exploded, sending jets of water soaring skyward. For leagues around, fish and water birds and mer folk scattered, trying to escape whatever had hit the sea with such force. Even kelp and floating scraps of driftwood, pushed aside by the powerful waves, seemed to swim away.
Basilgarrad had arrived in the Rainbow Seas.
He scanned the ocean around him, laced with iridescent streaks of color, then drew a deep breath of the briny air. Paddling with his wings, as if they were enormous flippers, and using his immense tail as a rudder, he turned himself around to face the rugged coastline. Following the line of sheer cliffs, he saw, directly ahead, the mouth of a huge cave. Colorful shells ringed the entrance, barnacles by the thousands clung to the rocks, and the air smelled of fish and otters and seals.
Basilgarrad peered at the gaping mouth of the cave, hoping this was the place he’d been seeking. Yet his thoughts were heavy with doubt. This isn’t what I expected.
He frowned, knowing that time was short. He couldn’t afford to spend days and days searching for Bendegeit’s lair. The blight was spreading—and whatever was causing it, and Avalon’s other troubles, was surely growing stronger.
All at once, ocean spray shot upward right in front of him. Three great heads rose out of the waves—heads with massive, teeth-studded jaws, deep blue eyes, and finlike ears. The heads of water dragons. As the trio lifted higher, water cascaded off their ears and snouts, pouring over scales the color of glacial blue ice.
The dragons drew themselves together, linking their powerful shoulders. Barring the way to the cave entrance, they looked like an impassable wall that had suddenly jutted out of the sea. A wall with countless blue-tinted teeth.
“Come no closer,” bellowed the dragon in the middle, who was somewhat larger than his companions. “Or you shall die.”
Facing these fierce guardians of the cave, Basilgarrad said to himself, “Now that’s what I expected.”
Treading their flippers, the trio of water dragons advanced, holding their close formation. “Leave now,” ordered the middle dragon, whose face bore a deep scar across his snout.
“I come in peace,” declared Basilgarrad, still watching them carefully. “I must speak with your highlord Bendegeit.”
“No one speaks with the highlord unless he so commands. Now leave.”
“But I—”
The middle dragon tossed his head impatiently, spraying his companions. The scar on his snout turned bright silver, the color of dragons’ blood. “Leave! I shall count to three. One.”
“I told you, I mean no harm.” Recalling Merlin’s firm admonition—avoid any battles—he repeated, “I come in peace.”
The guardians advanced. “Two.”
“Honestly, I—”
“Three. Charge!”
At the dragon’s command, all three guardians swam forward, moving with astounding speed. Jaws open, eyes ablaze, they shot toward the intruder who dared to refuse to leave.
Basilgarrad, however, moved faster. Pulling his wings—which were much longer than the flippers that water dragons normally encountered—out of the sea, as fast as a pair of whips, he smashed the heads of the two outside dragons. Their skulls struck both sides of the middle dragon’s, making a loud crrunnnch . As water sprayed all around, the two outside dragons teetered and fell over sideways, knocked unconscious.
The scarred dragon, stronger than the others (or just thicker in the skull), managed to stay upright. Though dazed, he roared wrathfully and started to attack, blowing a torrent of blue ice from his nostrils. Calmly, Basilgarrad solved this problem with a flick of his mighty tail. When the massive knob landed another blow on the water dragon’s head, he keeled over, joining his companions.
To make sure they didn’t drown, Basilgarrad wrapped his tail around
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