anything either and he began to
think that the cavern was empty, that they were going to slip through
unchallenged.
He did not give
thanks yet. The boat was starting to lose its forward momentum. He would have
to row. His heart in his mouth, he picked up the oars, moving slowly and
carefully to keep them from squeaking, and slowly and carefully lowered them
into the water. They made a gentle splash, and he cringed as he pulled on the oars.
He feared losing his way in the darkness, and he was relieved beyond measure to
see the exit—a much wider aperture than the entrance—come into view. The
starlit river glimmered in the opening, and he steered the boat toward it.
The opening came
nearer and nearer. Marcus was starting to think that they were going to escape
after all, his heart was starting to lift, when a glimmer of light caught his
attention.
The light came not
from the shore, but from the dark water.
Marcus stared down
into the river’s depths. The light grew in brilliance, and then there were two
lights—red-gold in color, widening and expanding and drawing closer.
Marcus ceased to
row. His hands clenched on the oars. Two eyes—red-gold, with black, reptilian,
slit pupils—gazed up at him.
The dragon was in
the water beneath them.
Terrified, Marcus
stared into the eyes that followed him, unblinking, as the boat slid over the
surface. The boat moved of its own volition, for Marcus’s hands had gone numb,
his arms had lost their strength. He sat in his small chair in his little room
and quaked at the sight of the unblinking eyes and the dragon’s thoughts that
clawed with sharp colors at his soul.
“Come out,” Grald
urged. “I’ve your doom to show you.”
Marcus stayed
where he was, kept the door bolted.
“I will give you a
glimpse,” said Grald.
Ranks of
soldiers—human soldiers, clad in armor that sparkled in the moonlight like the
scales of the dragon—marched toward Marcus. The soldiers marched faster and
faster, rushing up at him. Water surged around the boat, and he envisioned it
capsizing, throwing him into the river, where the dragon would seize him and
drag him under.
Marcus grabbed the
oars and drove them deep into the water, propelling the boat toward the exit.
Determinedly he rowed and kept rowing, grunting at the stinging pain in his
bandaged palms.
“What is it? I can’t
look!” Evelina lifted her head out of the folds of the blanket, she stared,
terror-stricken, around her.
Marcus didn’t
answer her. He lacked the breath. The boat shot out of the cave. The soldiers
vanished. The dragon’s eyes watched Marcus row, plunging the oars into the
water, pulling, lifting, plunging, again and again, until the eyes were far
behind him. Sweat poured off him.
“What’s wrong?”
Evelina cried.
“Didn’t you see the
dragon?”
Evelina glanced
timidly over her shoulder, then looked back at Marcus.
“No,” she said. “I
didn’t see anything.”
“It was there,
watching us.”
Or was it?
Illusion. An
illusion created by the dragon. An illusion meant to show Marcus that his puny magicks,
of which he was so proud, were the mewling of a babe compared to the magic of
the dragon.
Marcus slumped
over the oars, his strength gone. His hands burned. His arm muscles jumped and
twitched.
A hint of your
doom. Come inside and see the rest! See the dancing girls take off their veils!
All for the price of . . . your soul.
Marcus was
tempted. He would open the door just a crack . . .
“Don’t be a fool,”
said a female voice, quite clearly.
“You’re right.”
Marcus smiled wearily at Evelina. “That would be foolish.”
“Maybe it would,”
said Evelina, regarding him strangely. “But I didn’t say anything.”
10
THE MOON HAD RISEN
AND, THOUGH PAST THE FULL, THE NIGHT had shaved off only a sliver, so that its
light was bright in a cloudless sky. Marcus and Evelina continued traveling the
broad expanse of the river, keeping away from the shore. Not even
think that the cavern was empty, that they were going to slip through
unchallenged.
He did not give
thanks yet. The boat was starting to lose its forward momentum. He would have
to row. His heart in his mouth, he picked up the oars, moving slowly and
carefully to keep them from squeaking, and slowly and carefully lowered them
into the water. They made a gentle splash, and he cringed as he pulled on the oars.
He feared losing his way in the darkness, and he was relieved beyond measure to
see the exit—a much wider aperture than the entrance—come into view. The
starlit river glimmered in the opening, and he steered the boat toward it.
The opening came
nearer and nearer. Marcus was starting to think that they were going to escape
after all, his heart was starting to lift, when a glimmer of light caught his
attention.
The light came not
from the shore, but from the dark water.
Marcus stared down
into the river’s depths. The light grew in brilliance, and then there were two
lights—red-gold in color, widening and expanding and drawing closer.
Marcus ceased to
row. His hands clenched on the oars. Two eyes—red-gold, with black, reptilian,
slit pupils—gazed up at him.
The dragon was in
the water beneath them.
Terrified, Marcus
stared into the eyes that followed him, unblinking, as the boat slid over the
surface. The boat moved of its own volition, for Marcus’s hands had gone numb,
his arms had lost their strength. He sat in his small chair in his little room
and quaked at the sight of the unblinking eyes and the dragon’s thoughts that
clawed with sharp colors at his soul.
“Come out,” Grald
urged. “I’ve your doom to show you.”
Marcus stayed
where he was, kept the door bolted.
“I will give you a
glimpse,” said Grald.
Ranks of
soldiers—human soldiers, clad in armor that sparkled in the moonlight like the
scales of the dragon—marched toward Marcus. The soldiers marched faster and
faster, rushing up at him. Water surged around the boat, and he envisioned it
capsizing, throwing him into the river, where the dragon would seize him and
drag him under.
Marcus grabbed the
oars and drove them deep into the water, propelling the boat toward the exit.
Determinedly he rowed and kept rowing, grunting at the stinging pain in his
bandaged palms.
“What is it? I can’t
look!” Evelina lifted her head out of the folds of the blanket, she stared,
terror-stricken, around her.
Marcus didn’t
answer her. He lacked the breath. The boat shot out of the cave. The soldiers
vanished. The dragon’s eyes watched Marcus row, plunging the oars into the
water, pulling, lifting, plunging, again and again, until the eyes were far
behind him. Sweat poured off him.
“What’s wrong?”
Evelina cried.
“Didn’t you see the
dragon?”
Evelina glanced
timidly over her shoulder, then looked back at Marcus.
“No,” she said. “I
didn’t see anything.”
“It was there,
watching us.”
Or was it?
Illusion. An
illusion created by the dragon. An illusion meant to show Marcus that his puny magicks,
of which he was so proud, were the mewling of a babe compared to the magic of
the dragon.
Marcus slumped
over the oars, his strength gone. His hands burned. His arm muscles jumped and
twitched.
A hint of your
doom. Come inside and see the rest! See the dancing girls take off their veils!
All for the price of . . . your soul.
Marcus was
tempted. He would open the door just a crack . . .
“Don’t be a fool,”
said a female voice, quite clearly.
“You’re right.”
Marcus smiled wearily at Evelina. “That would be foolish.”
“Maybe it would,”
said Evelina, regarding him strangely. “But I didn’t say anything.”
10
THE MOON HAD RISEN
AND, THOUGH PAST THE FULL, THE NIGHT had shaved off only a sliver, so that its
light was bright in a cloudless sky. Marcus and Evelina continued traveling the
broad expanse of the river, keeping away from the shore. Not even
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