| Twenty Eight | The Battle

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"I'll get it," I said hastily. "The dragon's gold. You can take whatever you want. All of it." I wasn't sure about this, but I was certain that Pap would allow me whatever I needed to keep from getting, I didn't know, killed or something. And besides, when he had said he would bring me back Pap, hadn't he meant un-transforming him?

Something struck me.

Hadn't Rosie just said that the only way to break the spell was to kill the dwarf?

I narrowed my eyes.

He narrowed his in return. "Are you planning on having your men there kill the beast?"

"No, no I'm not. I'm just going to take what you need and give it to you, and you'll turn the dragon back into my pap, and we'll part on good terms."

His eyes widened for a second. I took that as my cue to keep talking. "Yeah, I know. So tell me: is it really possible for you to turn him back at all?"

A sneer creeped across his face. "You're catching on. I said I would bring him back to you. I didn't say what state he would be in."

I drew in a quick sharp breath at the last of my hopes dissipated in the air. It had been foolish to hope. I knew that. Dreamers always wound up dissatisfied or dead. "You bastard!"

"Did anyone tell you that dwarfs were honest folk?"

I swallowed. My vision was tunneling. I couldn't believe this. I had to keep it together.

I closed my eyes for a second. Dragon was better than dead. With all the will I could muster, I turned away from the dwarf and started sprinting towards the dragon again.

I was there in an instant. It felt like sacrilege to be singing at a time like this but I opened my lungs and belted out our lullaby at the top of my lungs. It was the song that struck me the most and I could get the most power.

It paid off. Soon I wasn't just running, but running on the air. Raising my arms, I made a whooshing motion, as if to push something away. Sure enough, the wind listened, going spiraling in the direction I had intended. The dragon spit fire at the same moment and I nearly cringed when I saw the fiery blast throw the three men at the dragon's wing far, far away.

I kept running closer and closer, singing as I went. A whirlwind had started around me, and I was the eye of the storm. The fire was intensely near me that I thought my hair was getting burnt off, but the heat itself barely bothered me. It wouldn't hurt me; the wind would protect me.

I tried to remember how many men there were. There had been six originally, but I knew Augustin had picked up some after visiting the capital, and I could only assume that he had dropped some back off in Betane. And rather unfortunately, the skill with which these men moved made it rather evident that these men were far more trained than the first shaggy, ragtag group had been.

The first three had already gone; they were somewhere far away that I didn't in particularly care about. I spotted another two of them by the other wing, each holding a crossbow. My gaze was drawn upwards where I realized with a shock that quelled my singing voice for a second, that three arrows were sticking in the wing. It would appear that both wings were injured now. I could see the dragon flailing it about, trying to regain control and send the knights away, but he appeared to have been met with little success.

Like the first time, I threw my arms out and sent the wind after the men. This time there was no accompanying fire, and I didn't even spare myself the time to find out why. Instead, I ran forwards towards the men, sending gust after gust after them. I could see them pointing towards me and shouting, but whatever cries they may have uttered were lost in the intense roar of my wind.

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