Part 7 (2/2)

She rode up to his side, leaned over Elrond's back and grabbed his arm. She flipped his right hand over. Nothing. Not a scratch. ”Show me your left.” Cahill gave her his hand. She inspected it. Again, nothing. Brea nearly fell off her horse. She shut her eyes and drew a deep breath. It wasn't him last night. It wasn't him!

Cahill s.n.a.t.c.hed his hands from hers and drew his sword. His movement was so sudden Brea was left with her mouth open in shock and confusion. But Cahill wasn't looking at her. He was looking at something over her head. Suddenly a great shadow pa.s.sed between the ground and the sun, and Cahill cried, ”Breanna, watch out!”

All Brea had time for was a quick glance up, into the fiendish yellow eyes of her true nemesis, the enormous mother of all dragons. ”Sp.a.w.n of the d.a.m.ned,” she cursed. She reached for her sword just as the beast swooped and grabbed the back of her cloak in its reeking muzzle.

”No!” Cahill cried.

With a swing of her arm, Brea embedded her sword in the side of the monster's neck. It pitched its head in an attempt to toss Brea to her death. But she held onto her sword with all her might, her legs kicking instinctively to find purchase. The dragon dived and weaved, but Brea held on. Heading directly for the castle, the enormous beast flew straight at a wall, trying to wipe Brea off on the stone facade. Instead, she simply used the stone as leverage for her flailing feet and pulled herself up to straddle the neck of the fiend.

However, this dragon was so large, she could scarcely sit astride its breadth, and Brea was afraid if she pulled her sword loose she would lose her hold and fall to her death. Suddenly the dragon swooped again and flew only a horse-height above the ground. Brea considered jumping off, but she knew her chances of getting in position to kill the beast again were slim to none. It was only when she looked up and realized that the dragon was flying straight for the yawning opening of the gates of the castle walls that Brea realized what the brute intended to do. Knock her off on the lintel stones as it flew through the opening to freedom.

”Fires of h.e.l.l!” Brea muttered. With only seconds to act, she knew what she had to do. Somehow she had to flip her body so that she clung beneath the beast, not on top of it.

Just as she was about to pull her leg over the dragon's neck, Brea felt a vibration along the length beneath her. She looked up and there sat Cahill, looping a length of rope around the dragon's curved horn and pulling himself into position. He drew his sword, lifted it and plunged. The dragon squawked, but something was wrong. It wobbled and shuddered, but the dragon did not die.

”Cahill! Grab my hand!” Brea shouted. He reached back for her, and their hands locked just as the monster pitched awkwardly to the left. If it wasn't for Cahill's grasp, Brea would have fallen. But his grip was firm and Brea knew, without a doubt, he would not let go. Cahill pulled her up the dragon's neck while she tugged on her embedded sword. With a wet, sucking sound, her sword came free, and Brea found herself wrapped protectively by Cahill's right arm.

”Now,” she shouted as she raised her sword. ”Let me go.”

”No. Give me your sword.”

”Cahill! I can do it!” It was only a split second, but it seemed like an eternity as she watched Cahill at war with himself, wanting to save her yet trusting Brea to save herself. Brea needed only to narrow her eyes at Cahill for him to loosen his grip. Once free, Brea lunged forward, raised her sword above her head and plunged it straight into the eye of the dragon. With a final shudder, the creature expelled its last burst of fire and dropped like a stone to the ground.

Without a second to spare, Brea jumped and rolled to safety amidst the sound of confusion, terror and horrible cries of pain. ”Cahill?” she cried as she leapt to her feet, certain the screams were his. ”Cahill!”

Cahill appeared from the other side of the downed beast, his clothes torn, his face streaked with dirt and dragon blood. ”Here, Brea. I'm here.”

Brea sprinted to his side and threw herself into his arms. He hugged her tight then drew her back from the dragon's carca.s.s. ”Oh no! Look!”

There, sticking out from beneath the gigantic body of the dragon was the bottom of a gown and a pair of fine satin slippers that kicked once, then twice before falling limp. The queen was dead.

”Help!”

Hand in hand, Brea and Cahill rushed toward the cries of distress only to find Peac.o.c.k, the captain of the guard, also trapped beneath the beast. His legs were surely crushed, but he still lived. He held his hands out to Cahill and Brea, asking to be pulled free. Cahill reached for him, but Brea stopped him.

”No,” she said. ”Leave him.” For across the palm of the captain's hand stretched a nasty gash. A dagger wound. Made by the dagger at Brea's waist. She pulled Cahill back to safety just as the dragon combusted, flames shooting high into the air, singeing the tips of Brea's hair. Peac.o.c.k's screams died out almost before they began.

Cahill held her in his arms and kissed her face and hair in relief. ”I don't care about my t.i.tle, Brea. All I care about is you.”

”I know.”

”We don't have to marry, not if you don't want. But I do need you, Brea. I need you to stay with me.”

All Brea could do was shake her head. ”No,” she said. ”No, if I stay we do this right.”

”What are you saying, Princess?”

”I want to marry you, Cahill. I want to belong to you and I want you to belong to me.”

Cahill studied her for a moment, then he lifted her off her feet and twirled her in the air as he hooted with joy.

Grinning and giggling like she hadn't done in years, Brea added, ”I think you'd better call the clergyman immediately. There's something I really want to try.”

The most glorious smile spread across Cahill's face as he hugged her so hard she could barely breathe. He kissed her head, her nose, her cheek and finally her mouth. ”I have a feeling that the two of us are going to live happily ever after.”

”Cahill,” Brea chided as her hands slipped down his back to his splendidly firm backside. ”You know I don't believe in fairytales.”

”No?” He planted a deliciously wet kiss on her lips. ”That's funny, because you're living one.”

About the Author.

DL spent her youth living by trial and error. From touring with an international performing group, backpacking through northern Africa to living bohemian style in Berlin, she pursued adventure and pa.s.sion from one place to the next, never really knowing where she'd end up. It wasn't until she met the love of her life, the son of a Nakoda chief, and started a family, that DL found her true calling-writing. Now, she writes about pa.s.sion and adventure, and she is happy to say she still never knows where her characters are going to end up. To learn more about D.L. Snow, please visit pany would have broken up the monotony.”

”She has a restless spirit, much like you.” Nalla chuckled. ”Were she one of us, she'd be prowling in animal form.”

Stephan grinned. I couldn't understand their amus.e.m.e.nt, but I knew she had no ill regard for me. She sat at the table and regarded us.

”Is her leg healing well?” he asked.

I hadn't realized how injured my leg was until Nalla had begun treating it. ”Those poultices of hers don't burn anymore. Surely that's a good sign.”

Nalla laughed. The rich tones of her wise voice soothed me. I hadn't realized I missed my gran until that moment. They were too alike for me not to be drawn to her.

”She's been asking about your talisman and wanted to walk the village. Perhaps you can appease her.”

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