“Then could it be used as a weapon against dragons?”
“Most definitely. I wear it around my neck for defense against the evil, fallen dragons. One of my ancestors found it in Shinar after the destruction of Nimrod’s tower, and it was passed down to me through the centuries. I believe I am the only one alive who knows how to use it, but after today it will matter no more.”
Merlin placed the stone on the ground and slid it into the base of the shroud. Instantly the dancing light radiated toward the candlestone, and a brilliant, steady beam poured forth from its opposite side. The shroud vanished, and the candlestone glowed with an eerie, flat light.
After a few seconds, the sleeping dragon stirred. With a great stretch and a mighty yawn, Clefspeare rose to his haunches, his enormous tail acting as a balance. Smoke and sparks belched from his open mouth. The king drew back and once again gripped the hilt of his sword.
Clefspeare spied his two visitors. His deep gravelly voice erupted. “Master Merlin! I have been expecting you, though I did not expect to see the Sovereign.” Clefspeare gave him a clumsy bow and nearly fell on his face, but with a flap of his wings, he righted himself. “Master Merlin, would you be so kind as to remove that accursed stone from my sight before I become violently ill?”
Merlin picked up the candlestone and covered it with both hands. “Are you sure the stone made you lose your balance, or are you still overcome by sleep?”
“I assure you that my eyes are clear. I recognized the king, did I not? Now please put that wicked jewel under a pile of rocks. Covering it with your hands does little to blunt its evil effects.”
Merlin walked to the cave’s edge, guided by a dim, flickering light. He found a flat rock and placed the candlestone underneath.
With a great snuff from his nostrils, Clefspeare blew a stream of flame at an iron stand on the wall, igniting a rag-topped torch. “Aaah! Now we have better light.” He looked back at Arthur and this time merely bowed his head. “Your Majesty, welcome to my humble abode.”
King Arthur bowed in return, much more gracefully than did the dragon, but his voice carried a slight tremble. “After fighting alongside you in the heat of battle, I am honored to visit the home of the greatest of the dragon warriors.”
Clefspeare nodded again. “Your words are overstated, yet still treasured.”
“How long has it been since the battle?” the king asked. “Three years?”
“Three years and six months, to be precise. Forty-two months of fleeing Devin and his band of slayers.”
Arthur drooped his head. “Yes, it took quite some time for Merlin to convince me of the truth. My apologies seem shallow in the wake of so many dead dragons.”
“Heartfelt apologies are always deep, and perhaps yours are not too late.” Clefspeare turned to Merlin. “Am I to understand that your presence signals the coming transformation?”
“Yes, Clefspeare.”
“How many are assembling?”
Merlin shook his head. “I’m not sure. The slayers have been busy, so very few of you remain, I’m afraid. Hartanna is gathering the dragons who still honor the memory of Makaidos.”
Clefspeare let out a long, spark-filled sigh. “The corrupted ones have been our downfall, Merlin, as you prophesied. A fallen dragon is the most detestable beast on Earth.”
“And who can know,” Merlin added, “whether corruption hides in the hearts of the remnant? Hartanna is wise, but she cannot always detect the seeds of darkness that spread evil shadows within. She has examined them to the best of her ability, but even a dragon’s senses can be fooled.”
“True enough.” Clefspeare blinked at Arthur. “And the king? What is his role?”
“We will need his help after we are finished. I can trust no other.”
“But will the other dragons trust the one who commissioned the slayers to eliminate our race?” Clefspeare turned on his eyebeams and aimed them at the king. “We know of his deeds, and we have seen his valor in battle, but how can we know his heart?”
King Arthur strode boldly forward and stood directly in front of Clefspeare. “How else can a man’s heart be known, or even a dragon’s, if not by his deeds? To me, you look very much like the dragon that murdered my brother and sister right outside the very walls of Camelot, the beast which Sir Devin slew only last week. Against my earlier judgments, I was persuaded by the wise prophet to come to your lair in order to help the race that stole the lives of my beloved siblings. He has recounted your many deeds, deeds that have been explained away by your enemies as mere selfish desire for treasure. I learned why you accept the gifts of the wealthy after you do your mighty works. I also know of the appearance of these treasures in the homes of the poor, benefiting widows and orphans who now have good food on their tables and warm clothes on their backs. Your deeds have set you and your friends apart from the evil dragons, Clefspeare, and I have come to grant Merlin’s request and aid you in your time of need.”
Clefspeare bowed once again, this time with more agility. “Well spoken, wise king. I was wrong to dwell on your past mistakes. Forgive me for not accepting your earlier apologies.”
Arthur returned the bow. “All accounts are now clear between us, good dragon.”
Merlin picked up his bag, threw it over his shoulder, and placed a hand on Clefspeare’s flank. “I have summoned all the remaining noble dragons to Bald Top. Come, now. We must fly to the meeting place.”
“Master Merlin!” Clefspeare’s beams shifted toward the cave entrance. “You and the king must climb on my back. Make haste. I smell danger.”
Merlin squinted at him. “You will allow the king to ride?”
“No time to argue!” Clefspeare growled.
Merlin reached for the torch and stamped it out, then, with the scales’ luminescent glow guiding their way, he and Arthur scrambled up the dragon’s scaly flank, stepped to his spiny middle ridge, and seated themselves at the base of his neck.
Merlin held on with one hand while gripping his saddlebag with the other. “Do slayers approach?”
“Most likely.” Clefspeare straightened his tail. “Heads down and hold on!”
“Wait!” Merlin shouted. “The candlestone!”
“No time! And I will not fly if you carry that cursed dragon’s bane!”
With a great flap of his wings, Clefspeare rose from the ground and hovered in the midst of the cave. After taking in a deep breath, he blew out a raging river of fire. Then, slowly at first and still breathing fire, he moved forward into the stream, floating easily on the cushion of flaming air. As they passed through the tunnel, accelerating as they traveled, Merlin peered through the passing inferno. Flames bounced in all directions, and two shadows dove for cover in the rocks. Within seconds, Clefspeare burst into the open and launched into the clear, night sky.
Arthur gripped Clefspeare’s spine with both hands. “Amazing!”
“Hang on!” Merlin called. “We have to get higher than their arrows can reach.”
When their angle of ascent tapered off and they reached a safe altitude, Clefspeare snorted a final puff of smoke. “I apologize, Your Highness, for the rough ride.”
The king took a deep breath in the cold, thin air. “It was exhilarating! A masterful escape!”
“Could you tell if Sir Devin was among the attackers?” Merlin asked.
Arthur shook his head. “I saw only shadows.”
“I saw him,” Clefspeare said. “His lust for my blood is stronger than ever.”
Merlin looked out over the scene far below, a shifting gray canvas with firelight speckling the shadows cast by the ghostly moon. “The drug I slipped into Devin’s mead wasn’t timed as well as I had hoped, but at least he will be far from Bald Top while we take the next step in my plan.”
The light of two flashing torches filled the cave, and a pair of shifting shadows crawled along the walls. With every step of the dark images, an echoing clop replied, but there was more silence than echo. The wary travelers made their way ever so slowly toward the center of the main chamber.