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nose, inside his ears. Can they get close enough for even a few lucky strikes?
The dragon stretched forth his neck and fed on the charred corpses left where they had fallen. He ate
loudly, chomping and smacking his lips. With a body dangling from his mouth, he lifted his head and
peered across the field.
Bardon turned to see what had caught his attention. Emerging from the line of warriors, a parade of sorts
glowed. Dressed again in light, a group of kimens surrounded three figures in the center. Their clothing
once again flashed hues of gold and silver.
Bardon lifted his glass to one eye. Toopka marched in the center. Her hands cupped the egglike stone
Wulder had plucked from her chest, and she held it in front of her as if she were bringing a present. On
one side, Sittiponder, with a face grim and resolute, accompanied her. He had a drawn sword, and the
blade either gleamed on its own or reflected the light from the kimens. On the other side, Gilda towered
over those around her. She also brandished a long shining sword.
Mot Angra tossed his charred meat in the air, caught it, and swallowed the tidbit. He then tilted his head
and examined the approaching company. Oh, ho! What is this? Do you send me martyrs? I have to
warn you, I don t believe in sacrifices to appease my appetite. I shall eat your fools, then ravage the rest
of you.
Toopka lifted her chin. I bring you a gift.
Remarkably, her voice boomed across the land, much as Mot Angra s voice. Was it natural
amplification? Bardon twisted his head and saw nothing that would magnify sound such as a backdrop of
a solid cliff. Wizard Namee was present. Did he provide this amplification? Or was it Wulder? At the
thought of Wulder actively participating in this spectacle, Bardon s heart lifted.
Bardon felt his arm jostled. He looked down to find Kale at his side. Regidor stepped up beside him.
Both wore grim expressions. The moon on Kale s face showed her pale complexion. Her expression
remained remarkably calm. The paintings on old Kondiganpress s walls came to life as she blinked back
a tear. What had the old tumanhofer said? Her duty in this confrontation was to watch.
A gift? mocked Mot Angra. How droll! Do you bring me a golden toothpick to clean your brothers
from my molars? Do you bring me a stove in which to cook them? Perhaps a set of cutlery so I may sit at
a table and display my manners?
It is an egg.
The dragon s booming laughter shook the very earth beneath the feet of Paladin s army. As he guffawed,
Toopka and her entourage advanced.
When he drew ragged breaths and again focused on the marching oddity, he wheezed, You grow
dangerously close, little people. He giggled. And tall madam.
If you eat the egg willingly, Wulder will relieve you of your heartache, your sorrows, your pain, and give
you beauty in return.
Wulder? Ah, Wulder has offered me similar propositions in the past. If I do this, He will do that. I ll
have none of it, little doll. You will be the beauty I devour, and my supposed suffering will continue. It
does not bother me much.
The egg in Toopka s hand flashed a bright light at his words.
You lie, said Toopka. The kimens clothing lost the subtle yellow and gray of metallic coloring and
blazed a white so pure Bardon blinked and squinted to see.
Toopka s voice rang through the dazzling display. Should you swallow the egg unwillingly, you will die.
Mot Angra turned his face away from the glare. Toopka s small force was now within a hundred yards of
the beast.
You tire me, he growled. I ll eat you and spit out your egg.
I don t think it ll be that easy.
Something in the childish tone reminded Bardon of the little girl Toopka weaseling an extra treat out of
Taylaminkadot. He took a step forward, but both Kale and Regidor grabbed his arms.
She must do this, Kale whispered. I finally recognize what I should have seen long ago. The egg is the
light of this world, Truth.
The dragon roared. Flame singed the air. His pointed incisors glimmered in the light of both death fires
and a child s hope. He gnashed his teeth and swung his head over the approaching force twice. On the
third swing he opened his maw and snatched as many of the party as he could.
The watching crowd gasped. Most of the kimens had fallen, their light clothing extinguished.
Toopka, Sittiponder, and Gilda were gone.
Mot Angra stomped his feet, howled with his chin pointed to the stars, and steamed from his nostrils, his
mouth, his ears, and even his eyes.
Bardon put his arm around Kale as tears streamed down his face. He looked at Regidor s expression
and felt his resignation to accept Wulder s will. A flash of anger seared Bardon s heart but quickly lost its
heat. I cannot quote Your principles day in and day out and not trust Your hand to bring forth Your
best for us. But it is hard, Wulder. It is hard.
The beast s next scream, a keening yowl, made everyone cover their ears. Silence followed. Mot
Angra s black skin let off a vapor smelling of the sweetness that threatened to close their throats. Paladin
ordered his men to place a cloth over the lower half of their faces. The instruction rippled through the
units. Some saw their comrades with the white handkerchief from a distance and followed suit.
Labored breathing broke the quiet. The great beast crumpled to the ground as his legs gave out. He
rolled on his side and struggled to pull air in and push it out. His skin continued to steam and then to
disintegrate. Much as the scale fliers bodies turned to powder after death, the evil dragon turned from a
solid mass to a mound of dark dust. Not even a rib curved into the air above the vestiges of the vile
monster.
The wind picked up and blew the sickening odor away and dispersed the remains of Mot Angra. As the
hill diminished, several lumps could be seen in the residue. The lumps moved and walked out of the
dragon s dirt.
A cheer went up among the forces of Paladin as the warriors realized the three sent by Wulder had
survived.
Kale squeezed Bardon s arm so hard he thought it would bruise. They re alive. Our champions have
lived through death.
Bardon blinked back new tears as Regidor left his side, running down the slope toward his wife.
Thinking of the many tranquil images of Kale s face at the old tumanhofer s home, Bardon asked, Did
you know this is the way it would end?
She pressed her face against his chest. This is what I hoped for. She leaned back and gazed into his
eyes.
Their thoughts mingled. Penn, home, too many dragons to count. Bardon kissed her forehead. Soon,
lady of mine. Soon we can take Penn home.
The roar of the crowd claimed their attention. Two urohms hoisted Toopka and Sittiponder into the air
and placed them on their shoulders. Regidor and Gilda walked arm in arm behind them. An impromptu
parade of clapping, cheering soldiers streamed behind the heroes as they progressed toward the hill
where Paladin stood waiting. The kimens danced among them.
Music broke out. First indistinct and disjointed, but as more of the crowd joined in, the most popular of
Wulder s marching songs echoed throughout the throng. Those who did not wield an instrument sang
gustily. When the surge of revelers reached the top, Paladin joined in the celebration, leading them on
toward the camp.
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