fond of opulence.
Graymore drew back the curtain and stepped inside. This is not a cave! It was a palace carved into the mountain.
The floor had been rough and stony to begin with, then replaced by smoothly hewn slabs and even mosaics. The walls of stone, though uneven, were decorated with tapestries and sconces. Graymore recoiled from one orange tapestry, which appeared to be woven of sparks and fire. Tiny fire fairies, no bigger than a cat, were crawling about, finishing the job. They wove fire around the very top of the tapestry. What a miracle!
Graymore clenched her dagger tighter. She could hear the harp and tambourine. Was there dancing nearby? She passed farther and entered a spacious hall, where couples were waltzing. All the dancers wore masks. She was the only one who came in with her face uncovered. Graymore noticed the vines on the walls. Could a semblance of a mask be woven from them? The vines were green, but as soon as she touched them, they burst into flames.
«The gryphon brought another girl into the tribute,» someone whispered.
A tall man in a green cloak and a scaly half-mask was walking across the hall toward Graymore. The crown in his curly hair was also made of green scales.
He was alone without a lady. Not surprisingly, he asked the first one who entered the hall alone to dance. Graymore didn’t suspect a trick. They’re just some kind of wizards, not dragons. They live in the mountains, and naturally they might try to bewitch her, but she seemed immune to spells. Otherwise she could not become a dragon-hunter.
The dance had barely begun when she felt dizzy. It was as if she’d been drugged or bewitched. She had to concentrate on something to drive away the mesmerism. That was the advice the wizard skeleton usually gave. The first remedy for someone else’s compulsion is to think of something you like. Graymore noticed a musician sitting at her harp. She had green leaves sprouting in her red hair. Her dress was green, too, with a fringe of leaves. She must be a forest nymph. Graymore had heard a lot about them, but hadn’t seen one yet. The sight of the nymph distracted her from her witching frenzy. The dance partner was angry.
«Look at me!» He demanded in a snarling tone.
«You have charming harpists,» Graymore avoided looking up at him in spite of his demand. «Are they nymphs from the forest?»
«Do not think of them, think of me.»
«But I like them better.»
It was an insult. The partner hissed. Graymore put the blade of her dagger to his throat, and burned herself. The stranger’s blood was fiery.
Could it be a dragon? Graymore tried to look into his eyes. Were they serpentine? She’d never seen a dragon turn into a human before, though legends had it that way.
«You are cheeky girl!» The man with the fire blood didn’t even apologize for burning Graymore’s hand, nor did she apologize for mutilating him with her dagger. The score is even! It is time to run away!
The vines that spanned the pillars burst into flames. The leaves were burning, but they were not consumed. Graymore dashed for the exit. No one tried to stop her. There was nowhere to run. She is in the mountains. She has no wings. She can’t fly. It’s all calculated. She cannot escape from here. Graymore is frozen on the mountain plateau, and a snide laugh can be heard behind her. She would have to go back. A gust of strong wind came. Some huge creature flapped its wings near the plateau. It was a dragon! Graymore was frightened. She usually killed dragons, but now it could easily take her down. One dagger would not be enough to overpower the monster. And behind her there was a chase.
«Come back, you wretch!» A familiar voice hissed behind him.
She had no choice but to fly away on her dragon. The dragon had just flapped its wings for her. Graymore took a chance and climbed on top of it. In a moment she was soaring over the mountains on her dragon, and below her, inhuman beings hissed and wailed. They couldn’t make it from the plateau to the dragon.
«Farewell!» Graymore waved to the creepy elves, in whose company she did not wish to remain.
Flying on a dragon was far more pleasant than dancing at a mountain ball. How could she have never thought of taming a captive dragon so she could fly on it? This dragon, however, she had not yet captured. On the contrary, it was he who had kidnapped her. What if he carried her into some creepy tract? She was unarmed at the moment.
Instead, the dragon lowered her to the ground just where the voracious Maverin was peacefully nibbling on the grass.
«Thank you!» Graymore never thought she would say such a thing to a dragon.
She should have grabbed her crossbow and aimed it. Surely this must be the dragon that terrorized the southern borders, but it was in no hurry to attack. Instead, it picked up a fallen rose with its claw and held it out to Graymore.
Strangely enough, she accepted the flower without expecting a catch. She did not think of fighting now. She stood as she did, not touching her weapon until the dragon flew away.
Stone City
After flying the dragon, a path past the mountains was found as if by magic. It was as if the dragon had managed to lift the spell cast by the mountain elves.
Graymore drove on. The whole day passed without adventure. The girl ate wild apples and pears without fear that they might be the enchanted fruits of the elves. Streams and springs also came across quite often along the way. One could not die of thirst in the forest. But one could stumble upon ruins in the forest. Graymore didn’t expect to see an expanse cleared of trees, where steles and obelisks whitened and tall arches rounded above them.
«Where are we, Maverin?» Graymore sensed the horse’s indecision. He didn’t want to go any farther, as if there were ghosts waiting ahead.
There was an overgrowth of ivy on the arches, and the sidewalk was so overgrown with grass that it had become a lawn. There were so many stone statues all around that it made one’s eyes glaze over. It was like a city of statues! Graymore took a closer look at the statues. They were neither man nor beast. They were somewhere between dragon and man. The figures are all human, but they all have dragon’s details. Some have a mask of scales growing on them. Some have their tails as a larger part of their bodies and claws instead of arms.
Graymore held the horse up beside a graceful female sculpture. The lady was beautiful, but her forehead bore branching dragon horns.
«It is your rival!» A voice whispered from above.
Graymore looked up. A tit was sitting on a tree branch. When it saw that Graymore was looking at it, the tit swooped down and settled on her shoulder, as if it were a gossipy whisperer.
«What’s happened here?» Graymore wasn’t surprised that the tit was chirping human words. What surprised her more were the statues. It was as if they were all magical. Surely some wizard must have put them there to perform a mysterious ritual in the thicket.
«They all became stone so that he wouldn’t burn them,» chirped the tit right in her ear. «But it’s a big secret! They are afraid of his fire!»
«Who could burn them?»
«It is the one who was supposed to rule them. He was the fairest of them all, and he has become the worst
