her arms and shoulders. The rock crumbs resembled shrapnel. One pebble cleaved Graymore’s forehead, spurting blood.
«Stop it! Come back here!» A chorus of voices called out to her. «The City of Sleepers awaits you.»
She wanted to turn back before a shout resounded in her ear:
«It is game!»
Had the voices of the unknown called game to her, Princess Livellin? Graymore felt fear mixed with rage. Even if all the sculptures came to life and went to war against her, she would not give up.
Someone clutched at her shoulders from behind.
«Turn around!» There was a hiss above her ear.
Graymore tried to break free. The fingers that held her were indeed stone, it seemed.
At that moment the dragon dipped in flight, circled above the arches, and suddenly burst into flames. Fire erupted in the circle. Graymore broke free and ran toward her horse, peacefully nibbling on the grass far away from the stone city.
Beneath her feet showed a line drawn on the ground. It seemed to consist of a ligature of signs scrawled between the grasses. As he crossed it, the clatter of falling stones and the hissing of flames ceased. Graymore looked back. The stone city stood untouched. Not a single arch in it had collapsed.
Was she imagining things? Graymore looked up at the sky. The dragon was no longer flying. How strange is it!
«It’s time for us to get out of here, Maverin!» Graymore took the reins and tried to climb into the saddle. She could not do it. Her legs felt as if they were cotton. The princess sank down on the grass.
«Let’s rest for a while, and then go on,» she said to the horse.
Naturally Maverin didn’t object. The grass by the abandoned city was fresh and lush. It was a pleasure to scratch. Let the mistress sleep and the horse have his lunch. Maverin continued to pluck the grass, while Graymore lay under the shade of a yew tree and fell asleep.
Lady in the Dragon Mask
Graymore woke up from the heat. It felt as if a red-hot brand had touched her cheek. It was, in fact, someone else’s hot breath. Was a dragon leaning over her?
Even before her eyelids fluttered open, Graymore reached for her crossbow.
«Don’t be frightened! You are not ready to fight yet!» A sweet, feminine voice whispered in her ear. «The fight of your life is yet to come. The dragon is waiting for you in the cursed mountains. You are to be a heroine! A great heroine! You will be honored as a dragon war goddess upon your return to Livellin, but first you must slay the dragon.»
What glorious promises! Graymore must have been pleased with such a prediction. Why did she feel that the fortuneteller’s voice oozed venom?
Graymore opened her eyes and immediately shut them again. A blinding glow was emanating from the stranger leaning over her.
«Do not fear me! I will lead you to the right place!» The woman in the golden mask leaned over and licked the blood from Graymore’s forehead.
«Do you know what this settlement was once?»
«Was it a city of elves?» Graymore guessed. She recalled the skeleton advisor’s tales of empty arches that were a passageway to the invisible realm of elves and fairies.
«It is not quite!» The woman in the golden mask gathered dew from the clover and anointed Graymore’s eyelids with it. After that it was no longer painful to look at her. The lady wore a mask that resembled the snout of a dragon. Is there really a masquerade going on in the forest? The intimidating mask was made of golden scales. It must have been made by a magical jeweler. Graymore was jealous.
«I want one for my next Livellin’s masquerade.»
«My dear,» the lady grinned indulgently. «If you get one, it will be quite difficult to take it off.»
«I don’t understand.»
The sun went behind a cloud. The mask suddenly disappeared from the lady’s face, as if golden scales had grown into her skin.
«Are you from the world of fairies?» Graymore looked in amazement at the lady’s blond curls and impossibly gorgeous dress. The bows on the sleeves and the corset were adorned with tiny sapphires. The lace of the lush skirts could only be woven by fairies. Mortal ladies have neither such outfits nor such delicate hair. Blond curls flowed below her waist. Somehow it reminded her of white snakes.
«I am Donata,» the lady introduced herself.
«You have a name like…» Graymore did not venture a suggestion, lest she should offend the lady. Like the statue!
Graymore glanced over Donata’s shoulder. By the way, she couldn’t see the statue from here.
«What are you? Are you a fairy?»
«It is not exactly, but sort of,» Donata spread her skirts, which looked suspiciously like a lizard’s tail.
«What kind of settlement is this?»
«It used to be human, but now everything human has fallen asleep.»
«You’re waiting for a chosen one to awaken everyone here.»
«There’s no need to wake anyone up. Everyone will wake up as soon as the usurper is dead.»
«The usurper? What do you mean» Graymore was astonished. «Where is he? Who is he?»
«The usurper is a dragon.»
«Good, because I thought it was a relative of mine. The thing is, this kingdom is ruled by the Livellin’s dynasty.»
«What do you mean?» The blonde was astonished.
«It’s Livellin’s territory here.»
«Livellin wasn’t even here when we were.»
«Were you? And who are you?»
«We were people of Marida.»
«I’ve never heard that name.»
«There are so many illiterate girls these days,» Donata touched Grayamore’s head gently. «But your usefulness to us is not in literacy. You are valuable in other ways. You can slay a dragon, can’t you?»
«I will,» Griamor promised.
«Are you sure?» Donata raised her ashy eyebrows questioningly. They curved in a cartwheel over her expressive blue eyes.
«I’ve killed so many dragons already. I can’t even count exactly how many.»
«That’s why your blood doesn’t taste good to me! It has the protections of a huntress in it! You’re nice, but you’re not tasty,» Donata stroked Graymore gently on the cheek. «When guests come to our house, I usually feel elation. The feast is coming.»
Grahamor
