suddenly turned toward Clement.
What a mess, it was all because of Raymonda! Where is she, by the way? Wherever she is, there is nothing she can do. She should be protected, not the other way around.
The black knights began to disperse the people from the fairgrounds in order to reach Clement, who was lost in the thick of the crowd. The motley tents fell under the onslaught of the guards. It was urgent to load the crossbow. The weapon was habitually concealed beneath his clothing. You can’t shoot them all, but you can at least try. Some knight in a helmet with a black cockade was getting close to Clement.
«Leave him alone!» A girl’s high-pitched voice cut through the noise. Raymonda was walking across the square. Sparks flew from beneath the hem of her dress as though she were treading on burning coals.
«He’s mine alone! You mustn’t touch him!» She declared as if her words carried weight here.
The Shai knights were only momentarily deterred by her impertinence. Clement, on the other hand, was so taken aback that several pairs of hands in black armor grabbed him. There was no need to open his mouth to the beauty. But it shocked him too much that the girl had stood up for him. Usually it was the other way around.
She was either cursing or incanting, and suddenly there was a blaze of flame around her feet. In the next instant, Raymonda was gone. In her place, the orange dragon’s enormous, scaly body surged toward the heavens. Its wings had such an enormous sweep that they blew the roofs off the nearby houses. The claws on its hind legs clawed so hard at Shai’s regiment that they fell like toy soldiers.
The most incredible thing was that the dragon had picked up its prey as it flew away. And that prey was Clement himself.
What a way to get out of a fire and into a fire. He felt like a toy in a dragon’s clutch. The city’s spires and turrets were nowhere to be seen. The dragon opened its mouth to let out one last blast of hot flame.
Even a volcanic eruption would not have made such an impression on Clement. The fire spread like an avalanche over the square and the ramparts. The great city turned into a raging sea of fire. Would the black knights burn in it? Or were they immortal?
Clement had no time to think about his enemies, for flying in the dragon’s claws proved far more dangerous than their attack.
Beauty’s claws
The dragon was taking him farther and farther away from the flaming city. Forests, fields, rivers, even entire villages were glimpsed below. And among the usual settlements Clement discerned several fantastical towns with elaborate turrets and the silhouettes of marble fairies on parapets. From above the sculptures seemed alive and moving. The dragon was now descending in flight, now soaring upward as if making zigzags from pursuit and arrows. But there was no chase, no one fired from the towers.
Clement was amazed that the clouds were suddenly close by. He could reach out and touch them, but the dragon held him tightly in its claws and would not let him move.
The mountains loomed up ahead. The dragon would fly over them, but he risked crashing. Was it worth dodging pursuers with swords and spears to be killed by a dragon’s claws?
At the decisive moment, the dragon managed to fly around the mountain ledges. He began to descend in flight. Beyond the mountains stretched a green valley, and beyond was a mottled heath. The dragon suddenly loosened its claws and tossed its prisoner into a lush thicket of purple flowers.
Clement was almost unscathed, save for a few scrapes and a few bruises. The flowers smelled wonderful, and the guards of the Shai were gone, but there was a danger of burning to death. For a dragon had landed nearby and suddenly begun to shrink in size. It felt as if it had been bewitched and forced to change to insignificant size. His uncle was probably wandering around somewhere. Only he could have cast such a spell. He could do nothing to make a mouse the size of a fighting elephant, or make a weed grow into a century-old tree in a few minutes. Clement looked around, but his uncle was nowhere to be found.
The dragon was gone, too. In his place, Raymonda was standing in the middle of the thicket of heather, carelessly shaking off the flowers that had stuck to her dress. It was an idyllic picture! It was except for one «but.» Why were there so many scales on Raymonda’s fingers that hadn’t been there before? And why she has orange claws instead of nails? They look like miniature dragon claws! Clement involuntarily backed away from her, and nearly fell, tripping over a clump of heather.
«So you’re the dragon?!»
He couldn’t get it out of his head. Raymonda was so sweet, so tender, and so scalding! Her hand gripped him and suddenly burned him. The pain was savage!
«Oh, I’m sorry!» Raymonda clearly felt guilty. «I’d forgotten that people can burn themselves. I should have waited until my skin had cooled after the transformation. But I can get you a healing potion. There’s a lovely tree nearby. It can crush you with its roots, but it can cure even a knight’s severe battle wounds.»
«Thank you! But an introduction to a magic tree is unnecessary. I’ve had enough of the dragon.»
Raymonda frowned. «Is that what you call it?»
«It is what it is!» – Clement realized there was no turning back. His feet tangled in a clump of tall heather. Something squeaks and nibbles in the ground beneath the flowers, as if leprechauns have taken up residence there. There’s a belief that if you catch a leprechaun, it will tell you where the pots of gold are buried, but Clement wasn’t busy chasing treasure keepers, who were pouncing on his feet like fleas. He discerned tiny creatures beneath the flowers. Apparently he had stepped into their territory. And they were even more aggressive than pixies.
Raymonda took out her hand mirror and held it to her face.
«It’s a double reflection,» she said aloud. «I didn’t want you to see me looking like this, but I had to. I don’t take threats against me or my friends.»
She was right! There was a regiment of attackers. As it turned out, Raymonda was capable of burning down an entire army single-handed.
The moon and new moon were outlined on the gilt back of her mirror, blended together. It’s the same symbol as the one on her hoop. Only this time it was surrounded by a scattering of stars milled around it like a wreath. It looks very much like the emblem of a midnight sorceress. Until now, Clement had never heard of such wizards being able to turn into dragons.
«So you do it on purpose with your charms?»
«Do what on purpose?» Raymonda wondered.
«You turn into a dragon.»
«If I could do it with my charms…» she sighed dramatically.«It’s not that simple! I’ll let you in on my secrets some day.»
Raymonda looked sadly in the mirror. Or was he upsetting her in some way?
«It’s easier for Chameleon wizards,» she whispered. «They choose their own appearance. But you have to accept the fact that your savior is a dragon.»
«I have,» Clement shook the fragrant heather petals from his collar and sleeves. The heather smelled strange in that field – a mixture of unfamiliar flowers. And Raymonda was not at all what he had thought her to be. What should he call her now?
