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Back Master of Dragons Save as PDF
Chapters (46)
  1. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  2. PROLOGUE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. EPILOGUE

It seemed to Grald that he’d been struck by the sun.

The molten fire that had been conjured of Ven’s very soul smote the dragon full in the chest. The magic melted the armorlike scales, seared through to the flesh, burned away the flesh to attack the bone and pulsing organs beneath. The magic splashed onto Grald’s eyes and head, blinding him, and sprayed over his wings, which were yet emerging, causing holes to open where the fiery blobs hit the fragile membrane. What human flesh still remained on the dragon dissolved, bubbling horribly, like fat on a hot skillet.

The full impact of the blow fell on the dragon’s breastbone, right over the heart, jolting it out of its centuries-old rhythm. The dragon’s heart lurched and thumped wildly, erratically. Grald could not catch his breath. Air rattled and whistled in his chest. Looking down with his half-blind eyes, he saw shattered bone and a mass of charred and bleeding flesh.

Grald was in unbearable pain. He was dying. Slain by the son. Slain by the mother.

Vengeance. Grald has always known Ven’s name and been mightily amused by it.

“Not now!” the dragon raged, staggering. “Not yet!”

His son’s living heart. It would keep him alive.

Grald lurched toward Ven, who lay unconscious on the floor. Grald’s own heart hammered and shook. He was finding it increasingly difficult to draw a breath. He fixed all his concentration on his son. Lunging forward with a claw that yet had the strength to rip open Ven’s human chest, he bent to pluck out his heart.

A human blocked his way. Grald struggled to see through the smoke that was drifting from the fire of the magic into his mind.

The prince. The brother. He stood over Ven’s body, blocking the way.

The sons of Melisande.

Human flesh and bone. Fragile and soft.

Grald swiped his claw at the prince, intending to smash the puny frame to bloody pulp, cleave him open, cast him to one side, then get at his prey.

The dragon’s claw passed through air, whistled through darkness, touched nothing.

The dragon’s heart thudded and began to slow. Grald toppled to the floor, landing with a thud that cracked stone walls and sent tremors through the ground. The dragon never knew he had fallen over. He stared at the human, who wavered in his sight, and he kept staring into death and beyond.

25

THE DRAGON’S AGONIZED RAGE BURST AGAINST MARCUS, SEEMING to boil his blood. And then the darkness of death began to rush in like a rolling tide, swallowing up the rage, thundering down on Marcus, crashing, churning, and crushing.

“Run!” Lysira warned him. “Don’t get caught inside Grald’s mind!”

Marcus fled the dragon’s mind. He stood, shivering, in his little room, and watched Grald die.

“Ven?” Marcus called.