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Chapters (36)
  1. The Last Dragonslayer
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Practical Magic
  5. Tiger Prawns
  6. Zambini Towers
  7. About the Mystical Arts
  8. The Magiclysm
  9. Mother Zenobia
  10. The Dragon Question
  11. Patrick and the Childcatcher
  12. Norton and Villiers
  13. Mutiny
  14. William of Anorak
  15. Brian Spalding – Last Dragonslayer
  16. The Dragonlands
  17. Maltcassion
  18. Gordon van Gordon
  19. The Truth about Mr Zambini
  20. Big Magic
  21. His Majesty King Snodd IV
  22. Yogi Baird
  23. Foundling Trouble
  24. The Duke of Brecon
  25. Dragon Attack
  26. Mr Hawker
  27. Maltcassion again
  28. Sir Matt Grifflon
  29. Escape from Zambini Towers
  30. Back to the Dragonlands
  31. Noon
  32. Anger
  33. The New Order
  34. The End of the Story
  35. About the Author
  36. Also by Jasper Fforde

‘Window dressing,’ replied the Dragon. ‘The Dragonslayers, far from being a most noble profession, are really nothing more than a contractual obligation. In Shandar’s plan you would never have come up here at all.’

‘Then . . . I don’t have to kill you.’

The Dragon raised a claw in the air and wagged it at me.

‘Well, that’s the wrong answer, I’m afraid,’ he said reproachfully. ‘We’ve planned this for a long time. You were chosen by us to do this deed; at midday you have to kill me!’

I could feel large salty tears well up in my eyes. It all seemed so unfair.

‘But I’ve never killed anything in my life!’

‘Big Magic is by definition highly specific. Someone like you must do it.’

‘What’s special about me? Why can’t Sir Matt Grifflon do it?’

‘You are more special than you realise, Jennifer.’

‘Tell me why it has to be me!’

‘I am only the last in a long line of greater minds. Not even I have all the answers. All I know is that you have to discharge your duty using your own free will and judgement. It is your destiny, Jennifer. You will do it.’

I picked up Exhorbitus as a clock started to strike twelve somewhere in the distance, and Maltcassion lifted his chin to reveal the soft flesh beneath his throat. I started to cry, large drops that ran down my face and on to the soft earth. Sometimes your duty takes you to dark places that you’d rather not be, but duty, as they say, is duty.

I held the sword aloft as a light wind whipped the leaves and twigs into motion. I placed the tip against his skin and paused.

‘Goodbye, Jennifer, Gwanjii. I forgive you,’ he said.

I closed my eyes and thrust the sword upwards as hard as I could. The effect was immediate, and dramatic. Maltcassion shuddered and slumped to the ground with a mighty crash. A large cloud of dust was thrown up by his falling bulk and knocked me backwards into the dirt. I was momentarily winded and struggled to my feet, expecting some sort of magic to start happening. I stole a glance at Maltcassion then hurriedly looked away. The jewel in his forehead had stopped glowing and an unnerving silence invaded the forest.