12/12/99

To Slay the Dragon or Not to Slay:

Part 2: The Enemy's Lair

Slowly Macbeth looked to the rising sun, and sighed. Demona landed on her perch, facing him.

"You were foolish indeed with that stunt, letting loose a dragon upon you... it will stop at nothing to defend its young..."

"True, but what can I do? If those eggs hatch..."

"And what would you, a human do? Destroy them?"

"A hundred little dragons to contend with? I am King... and I swore to protect my people! If I let this Dragon live, it may well kill anyone within a hundred leagues of the cave! I cannot watch every person who comes within that territory! Dozens of farmers live in that place!"

"And you would let a few lowly peasants stop you from preventing a greater danger?" Demona asked.

"Yes... for they are my people!"

"Be very careful, Macbeth. For you may see it as a lesser of two human evils, but you may well regret what you are about to do. For I know what a human would do... and you are unlike most of your kind... but I fear... you will not think beyond..."

She hardened into stone as she continued her speech. "Bah," Macbeth muttered. "Useless prattle."

Screams and shouts came from the men, a cry of alarm. Suddenly the Dragon flew at them, head on. Greenish mist spewed at the fields, raining as people choked. "Bloody hell!" Macbeth shouted.

"Archers!" he cried. "Attack!"

A thousand arrows flew, knocked by welsh bowmen. The Dragon blazed them aside with ease, its rain of fire bright against the growing sun. Macbeth shouted to his men, as the women and children hastened within, and many of the local serfs rushed into the courtyard for cover. Moray quickly closed itself off as many fell to the choking mist.

"Catapults, ready!" the Steward shouted, as large stones were loaded. At the drop of Macbeth's sword they flew. But with consummate skill the Dragon wove among them.

"Get a band of my best knights, and lead it away!" Macbeth shouted. "Hurry! My armor! My sword... my steed! And get that bloody Bard up here!"

"Yes sire!" shouted his squire.

Soon Macbeth and a small band rode out, the catapults and arrows having kept the circling Dragon at bay. Another pass and its eyes fixed upon the small pillar of armed men rushing outwards. Still the arrows flew, the Dragon's wing perforated with tiny holes as it lost altitude. It crashed towards the edge of the forest, dragging its membranous scarlet wing. The first warrior, Constantine, rode up, charging.

"Ware... it could be shamming!" another warned. Then the claws were out, swiping as Constantine's horse reared. And swatted it out from under the Knight. Two others rode up, lances raised as they held their reigns. Green mist seeped around them, but as one fell the other's lance struck home.

A loud scream, unearthly, pierced their ears. Macbeth could swear it sounded like a woman screaming. Another rush as the knight's horse bolted and his lance shattered. He grabbed his fallen friend, and struggled to leave. Only to be swatted aside with a swipe of the tail as the Dragon turned.

Macbeth shouted, waving his own sword as he moved his horse forwards. Anger filled his veins, ringing with the Scottish blood of heated battle. His sword swiped as he maneuvered his horse around the slashing claws and hissing mist. Clamping a wet cloth over his face, he screened out the mist, holding his breath. A quick slash and there came a bellow. Bluish ichor dripped his cape.

Following his example, the others fell upon the Dragon. Lances drew its blood as the female bellowed in pain.

On a black horse he road, the Bard bursting out of the bushes. "No!" he screamed. "Stop!"

But the frenzy had seized them, their Scottish blood boiling with the thrill of battle. Repeatedly they pierced and lunged, blood streaming out of the female as it feebly swatted them away.

"Murderers!" Cassidy shouted. "Stop!"

But it was far too late. For the blood stained the grass, the feuding men, and the horses' flanks. Blue life force that leaked away with its last heaving gasps on its side. "Oh Goddess no!" Cassidy screamed, as he moved into the mass of men.

"Fall back!" Macbeth cried, coming to his senses. Two of his men grabbed the Bard, as he fought against them with surprising strength.

"What is wrong, you fool?" Macbeth hissed, as the Bard fought free, and raced to the Dragon's side.

"I'm sorry... so sorry," Cassidy wept, as his hands touched the flank of the fallen beast.

Everyone stood sober, the heat of battle gone with the Dragon's ebbing life. The one green eye glanced at Cassidy, a low moaning from its throat. Cassidy began to sing softly, gripping its head as it looked at him.

"What... sorcery is this?" asked the Steward.

"Leave him with that beast..."

"You don't understand... I could have stopped it!" Cassidy shouted to them. "I was preparing a song... to make it slumber! For a hundred years!"

"Too late for that now..." Macbeth said, moving towards him.

"I asked you to wait!" Cassidy cried, moving towards him. The Dragon's eye was fast shut, as it breathed its last.

"There was no time! It was attacking Moray!" Macbeth shouted back. "My people would have died!"

"You broke your vow! Betrayed me!" Cassidy snapped back. "I told you not to move against it! And you have slain a beast that was mother..."

"I am a King! I am the law! I swore to protect my subjects, and that comes before all!"

"What use is a king who breaks his word..." Cassidy hissed, eyes bright crimson.

"Look at his face! He's not human!" cried one of the men.

"Sorcery!" cried Constantine, dropping and making the sign of the cross. "Burn him!"

"Silence!" Macbeth shouted. "None may speak to me that plainly."

"He's a heathen fool, what did you expect?" came the Steward's words. "Leave the pagan with his pet monster!"

Shouts of affirmation came from the band, as they moved to Cassidy. Macbeth held them back with a raised hand. "No, none will lay a hand on him. You, Cassidy, swore your aid. And you failed to stop it with your spells and potions. I did what I had to as King. It is not for you to question me!"

"Then you are less of a man then I thought..." Cassidy spat at his feet.

"Treacherous Irelander" shouted another, grabbing mud and hurling up upon him. Brown globules splattered the blue wool of his bard robes.

Macbeth's eyes narrowed as Cassidy's eyes glowed with an unearthly fire. "You poor ignorant fools," Cassidy shook his head.

"He would steal our women! He has the look of the Fair Folk!" said another, brandishing a piece of iron at Cassidy, who promptly backed away.

"Leave now... and I will forget that remark, pagan," Macbeth hissed. "But show your face here in my kingdom again at your peril..."

"I would rather never return while you are king," Cassidy muttered under his breath as he wiped away the mud. Glaring at the knights, he made a last gesture towards the Dragon. Suddenly there came a noise as if a rushing fire. Suddenly the Dragon burst into flames, sending the horses wild. By the time they turned to seize him, he was nowhere to be found.

Macbeth felt anger burn inside him. This barbarian pagan had embarrassed him before his men. That was a sin punishable by torture. Added insult was the way in which even the wives were bewitched with him. Perhaps he was one of the Fair Folk, in human guise. Yet it mattered not. He would not trust such heathen sorcery again. And what other beings could turn upon him? The gargoyles next? If the Fair Folk indeed were a threat, then perhaps Demona would turn against him and Scotland....

The thought unsettled him as he rounded up his men and returned to Moray. There was no trophy for this hunt, only a worried Gruoch who begged to know what happened. Why the Bard had suddenly and unceremoniously left...

"Give me back Griffy!" Lucy shouted as she rushed after her brother.

"Only if you give me back my Gameboy!" he shouted back, holding a plush griffin with rainbow wings aloft. She leapt on one foot trying to grab it.

"You're mean!" she whined, clutching the toy in question behind her back as he stopped. Both children blundered right into the back wall of the church.

"That's enough, you two!" a blonde woman sighed as she pulled them apart. "Outside with you now..."

"But she started it!" Tim snapped.

"He stole my Griffy!" Lucy pouted.

"Enough, I don't care who started it, but I'm finishing it. Lucy, give me the Gameboy now. And you give me the toy."

"Mum!" Tim snapped.

"I mean it now!" Anne lowered her voice, holding out her hand. He forked it over, and she handed it back to her daughter. Then surrendered the Gameboy to Tim. He immediately stuck his tongue out at his sister.

"Mum he's being mean!"

"Enough you two! I need to work! Take it outside, this minute..."

"All right," Tim sulked. "But I'm not letting her play it!"

"That's not fair!" Lucy stamped her foot. "I gave you that for Christmas."

"What's not fair?" Anne asked. "It's his toy. Find something else to play."

"But I wanna play! I wanna play it really badly!" she howled.

Anne pulled both children out by their hands, shushing them. "Look the pair of you! This is hardly the place for you two to act out. Mommy needs to work, and I don't want you brawling about the place. Now work it out between you this minute..."

"I hate you," Lucy snapped at her brother.

"Fine, you feel that way right now." Anne said. "But that's not good enough. Apologize this minute. I don't have time for this. Give me the toy. You'll have it back after tea..."

"No fair!" he shouted.

"Life isn't fair. Look, why don't you go playing explorer?" she asked. "You always love that. In fact Mr. Moorwood-Smyth needs a good helper to take him his tea. In fact, if you apologize, you just might enjoy the trip. He and Auntie Lydia might even let you dig for artifacts!" He stopped for a moment, sulking as he stuffed his hands into his pocket. "It's either that or go home and look after your sister."

"Can I help can I?" Lucy asked.

"I don't know. Can you apologize to your brother?"

"I don't know," she said, putting her finger in her mouth. Just then Lydia Duane pulled up in her Land Rover. She pulled to a stop as she noticed the interesting situation before the Church. Climbing out, she advanced upon her friend. It was difficult for her sister with two children, raising them by herself. Lydia helped out when she could, and this was a crisis indeed as she could tell from the sulking scowl on her nephew's face.

"Natives are restless?" she asked them. "Auntie can we help you at the dig?" Lucy asked, as she rushed to her aunt's side. Lydia grinned as she leaned over her niece and gave her a big hug.

"I don't know. Shouldn't you ask your mum first?"

"Timmy I'm sorry I took your Gameboy," she chirped. Tim grumbled in return.

"My, my aren't we a Mr. Grumpy," Lydia said to Tim. "Don't you want to hear about what we found, in Dragon's Grotto?"

"Some crummy old junk," Tim muttered, turning around. "Big deal..."

"Tim!" Anne wailed. "Don't be rude!"

"Let me tell your sister what we found in Merlin's cave," Lydia dropped her voice to a whisper as she leaned over her niece. Lucy's eyes grew wide as she heard what seemed some great secret. Tim moved over, pretending not to notice.

"Let's go!" Lucy laughed as she slipped her hand into Lydia's.

"Be back for tea," Anne said, as she breathed a silent thanks to Lydia. For a moment she disappeared into the church.

"Who cares about some moldy artifacts anyway," Tim kicked a rock with his sneakered toe.

"I was forgetting one small detail," Lydia turned around. "Arthur needs a strong helper to clear away the gravel. I wonder who I can find to help..." She pretended to look back and forth as she helped Lucy into a booster seat in her Land Rover.

"All right I'll go," Tim sulked. "But I'm not looking for any stuff..."

"That's a great sport, Timmy," Lydia nodded. Anne handed her sister a small cooler as she reemerged from the church. Lydia shared a wink as she noticed Tim climbing into the front seat.

"Thanks ever so much Sis," Anne shook her head. "They had half a day today, and I've been at my wits end at what to do with them!"

"I'll look after then for a while, at the site…"

"But there was a set of artifacts we just unearthed during the renovation that we thought you could examine…" Anne whispered.

"Arthur will be more then happy to take them for the afternoon, once they've had lunch. I'll nip back here soon as I've taken them up. Then we'll have us a look at your artifacts Sis…"

"Yet how utterly boring," he added, turning to his mica topped desk. "Oh so unaware of the possibilities..."

"Oh yeah," smirked the voice from across his desk. Two figures, brother and sister, sat swathed in their trench coats. As the young woman lifted her leg, the scientist caught a glimpse of gold from her boot. Her Brother leaned out of the muted shadows, relaxing in the padded chairs.

"Now I must remind you two, I pay half up front, and half later after results..."

"Yeah, it's all in the contract," his sister said impatiently, her voice cutting in like an alto pair of sheers. "So what is it we have to do anyway?"

"A little hunting expedition. If the stories I have heard from this town are true... then it may be the most significant discovery in even my stunning career,"

Brother and sister looked at each other, as if to say, "Give me a break."

Brother lifted the corner of his lips at sister, as if to answer, "Wait, this might be the break we need..."

"I assure you, this might be the start of a more permanent career for you two. If you do well."

"Are ya saying our ref's ain't valid?"

"After what I heard about in the Rainforest, for Reynard and company... let's just say you weren't the first I'd call... but I was rather strapped for resources..."

"Hey have we got a deal or not?" the young man asked, pushing up from his chair. Those two long sideburns hung down over the neat desk.

"Careful, I just had this place fumigated," the Director said. "Let's call it a deal for now. I expect results..."

"You'll get em, right sister?"

"Right. Let's go out and do it!"

"Good help is soo hard to find," Dr. Sevarious shook his head as his two newest employees left.

Yet they were working against time. For even now a chemical company wished to purchase land near the dig site. And she and Arthur had only a week left to unearth substantial archaeological evidence to prove that this was a historic site, and must not be disturbed.

"So how are my little archaeologists doing?" Arthur Moorewood-Smythe asked his two youngest volunteers. He leaned around Lucy, who was sifting dirt through what looked like a sieve.

"No treasure yet," she reported.

"Keep looking... there just might be something soon," Arthur smiled. He turned to Tim, who crouched, in the square pit. The lad was scraping with a masonry trowel with a grim look upon his face.

"Nothing yet," he grumbled. "Stupid waste of time..."

"May be," Arthur said with a slight twinkle in his eyes. "But it helps to work out the arms...."

"Really?" Tim lifted an eyebrow. Arthur rolled up his khaki sleeve, showing well-muscled arms. "After a whole summer in Egypt I was the best arm wrestler in the camp!"

"No way," Tim muttered his sulk beginning to crack a bit. "Already this morning we found the Briton's teeth. I'll be blasted if there isn't an axe to be found yet..."

"Really..." Tim muttered, and began to dig with renewed vigor.

"That's the spirit lad," Arthur grinned, dropping to his haunches as he cleared aside dirt with a toothbrush in another section. "If you land on anything hard, just sing out... Lucy, you keep searching through the dirt. Leave no section unturned."

 She had spent only a day in the small town, miles from any major city. Tucking away into the countryside, Raveloe's town square was boarded by a small pub and the local church. There were few cottages with their thatched roofs left strewn here and there. Marianne could almost think herself transported to the sixteenth century, if not for the few modern cars parked in driveways here and there.

Anne Duane had said something about Celtic artifacts found in the church's basement. Artifacts that needed the skilled eye of her sister Lydia to decipher. The fact that they were also dealing with a twelfth century tapestry of St. George required Marianne's expertise in dealing with ancient textile conservation. Hence the trip here.

Slowly she walked along the paved road, towards the church. Gently the wind breathed through the small trees lining the path, their blossom heavy branches arching overhead. Small flowers peeked from beside ancient gravestones. Into the sky rose the church's belltower, a two story box shape all in slate gray chunks cemented together. Strange, she thought, as she entered the open red door, that statue of that griffin didn't seem to be there yesterday. He crouched protectively to the right, his fine beak resting on bent knee. Could it be?

Once inside, the high bits of colored glass cast their rainbows across the uneven stone floor. Up front in the sanctuary was bordered off with rope. Two conservators busied themselves over an ancient tapestry just after the choir stalls. In faded glory paraded a knight on horseback, his lance upraised to spear a serpentine creature his white mount trod underfoot. Such an unmistakable scene could only be St. George himself. She shivered with awe, fingering the small shield pin upon her blazer lapel.

"Dr. Ellis!" Anne Pricefield said, turning her head at the sound of Marianne's approach. "Good to see you back. Just in time to get some samples from the tapestry."

"Who's the audience?" Marianne asked.

"This is Dr. Lydia Duane... the museum just called her in to take a look at the artifacts here..." Anne said, indicating the woman to her left.

"Pleasure is mine," Marianne nodded, extending her hand to the middle-aged woman in her blue jeans and plaid shirt.

"14th century tapestry, in the most remarkable condition," Lydia bubbled.

"I saw it as well," Dr. Ellis smiled slowly. "Perhaps it's the effect of this town? The fact that the locals take their legends seriously."

"Indeed. The vicar said the greatest of care was being taken... hence he called us in." Anne nodded, as she handed several tubes to Dr. Ellis.

"But that's not why you're here, is it Lydia?" Marianne asked her. "As I recall, tapestries aren't your forte?"

"Actually it's these," Lydia laughed as she produced a set of runestones, each about the size of her little finger. One one side were scribed odd runic writing, and on the reverse were odd spiral carvings. "Anne found them in the church's basement, and called me in to give my assessment. Strangely well preserved. They seem to point to a significant burial in the site that Arthur and I are excavating…"

"What site is that?" Marianne asked.

"It is rumored that Merlin himself might very well be buried here… in a place called Dragon's Grotto…."

"Perhaps it is because time itself would stand still here," came a familiar voice. From a side pew a viewer came forwards. Marianne managed a small smile, recognition in her face as she took in the handsome gentleman. His long hair was neatly tied back; his long beard very unusual compared to any of the townspeople Lydia had yet seen.

"Do I know you?" Lydia asked.

"I must say I didn't expect to see you here, milady," the stranger said, as he took Marianne's hand to kiss it.

"You are a welcome sight," she smiled. Lydia noticed it hardly dissolved the solemn mask. Far unlike the Marianne she had heard of from Anne. So distant and preoccupied those steel blue eyes seemed.

"This is my friend... Arthur," Marianne said, turning to her friends. "He's... interested in antiquities... it's a hobby of his..."

"Glad to see another fellow historian," Lydia smiled, as the man Arthur took her hand and kissed it. "Have I seen you before? You look... familiar..."

"Many have said thus," he said, inclining his head. Oddly the features were the paragon of regal serenity she had not seen since perhaps in portraits of ancient monarchs.

"He has that sort of face," Marianne said hastily.

"I am most interested in what you have to say about Merlin," Arthur said softly. "You are a scholar?"

"Yes… as a matter of fact," Lydia caught herself. "My colleague and I unearthed the Scrolls of Merlin, two years ago…"

"And what a discovery that was indeed," Arthur said, kissing her hand. "Am I to understand this is the place they were found?"

"Nearby. But we found little else at the site. Yet we only recently have rounded up enough money to continue excavating in Dragon's Grotto… which is a whole series of caves…"

Marianne watched the dialogue with interest. Yet Anne noticed the sudden tears in her eyes when Lydia mentioned, the word Dragon. Her eyes fixed upon the tapestry, with its image of St. George piercing a winding green serpent. Marianne's blue eyes locked into the image, her body becoming quite rigid.

"Are you all right milady?" Arthur turned his head to look at her. Excusing himself from Lydia and Anne, he lay a hand on her shoulder. "What malady ails you?"

"Er, Arthur... may I have a word with you, outside?"

"Indeed there is much to discuss, from your manner, milady. I may take my leave of you now, gentle ladies..."

"Sure," Anne Pricefield nodded. "Just make sure to get us the results as soon as you can, Dr. Ellis from that tapestry...."

"Right," Marianne sighed, as Arthur offered his arm. "Good luck on your excavation, Lydia," Marianne lifted her head to say. Then the odd couple exited the small church together, Marianne completely silent.

"It is indeed a pleasure to see you again, Lady Marianne," Arthur Pendragon said softly as they strolled through the garden. "It seems fate has brought our paths together..."

"How goes the search for Merlin?" she asked. " I heard Lydia saying…"

"The traces of Excalibur brought us hence," he said. "And if this is Merlin's resting place… it is I who can perhaps free him from the stone…"

"I knew I recognized that gargoyle out front of the church," she said with a slight sad laugh.

"May I ask a question milady?"

"Yes..."

"You seem most despondent... and why are you not in the company of your lord Charles..."

"We... had a bit of a falling out," she said, trying to fight the tears.

"I am most sorry to hear so..."

"It was a choice between duty... and my heart..." she sniffed, bravely forcing back tears.

"It often is," Arthur said, taking her hand between his. "But what brings you hence?"

"I would ask you... for I am here because my work has sent me..."

Both friends had reached the main road by now, exiting the peaceful church garden. Marianne thrust hands into her pockets as she glanced at her stepping feet. Arthur let her hand go, moving quickly to keep up with her pace.

"There were legends of an ancient cavern... containing great magic. It is called the Dragon's cove... and I often recalled my friend Merlin had dealings with such. Perhaps... that is why you were here as well, to aid me on my quest..."

"I would like to help... but there are rather a bit of sticky situations here..."

Arthur's eyes fell upon a van winding its way through the town far faster then necessary. He threw Marianne to the ground as the van vanished around the roadbed. Slowly he helped her to stand, glancing backwards at the strange vehicle's dust cloud.

"Are you harmed milady?"

"Good grief some people think they can drive where they bloody well please..."

"Such strong language milady," he shook his head. "But considering your life was threatened... I would see whoever is responsible is punished!"

"Are you two all right?" asked Lydia Duane, rushing up with Anne Pricefield. Anne moved past them towards a constable trundling his bike up the path.

"Yes... but what on Earth..." Arthur muttered.

"It was from that chemical company!" Anne grumbled. "Honestly, they are getting more obnoxious by the day..."

"Chemical company?" Arthur wondered. "What sort of danger does this hold?"

"Nightstone Industries is trying to work it's way into this town," Lydia Duane shook her head. "Arthur and I have been racing against time to finish our excavation… we must have enough to make a case against their purchase of the land…"

"Did you say Nightstone?" Marianne asked, an eyebrow raised.

"It was printed on the van," Lydia said. "Anne's getting the constable..."

"What is Nightstone?" Arthur asked. "Some strange demon or monster?"

Lydia laughed. "Some in the town would say so... for it's been a debate in the local council for a better part of a year. They promise better jobs for the locals... while I have claimed the land should be set aside for a museum…"

"No doubt," Marianne muttered, as she brushed herself off. "But I cannot help but think many of the local farmers would protest having a chemical company in their backyard. And I don't entirely think Nightstone is the best or most reputable of companies..."

"It would mean more money to help restore artifacts..." Lydia pointed out. "Perhaps they could be convinced upon another parcel of land up the road…"

"Hmm, and it's up to us at the museum to decide just how much damage pollution could cause..." Marianne muttered. Her blood chilled within her veins as she suddenly remembered just who worked for Nightstone.

"Are you all right, milady?" Arthur asked.

"We aren't sure how this will impact the community," Lydia was saying to them as Marianne's eyes went blank. "Marianne?"

"Oh, sorry... I was just thinking... not all of the people here seem that thrilled do they?"

"Good grief," he groaned, running a hand through his short hair. "I'm in for it now..." He heard the distant noises of two children laughing and shouting. Hiding a smile he set off into the woods after them.

"You rotter I'll get you," Tim growled, running after his sister. In her hand she gripped his masonry trowel.

Tim caught up with her at last. Lucy stood rigid at the mouth of a clearing, eyes wide. "You lead me on a good chase right enough. Now come back before..."

"Shh, you'll scare it," she hissed, turning on him. Tim shut up, and glanced in the direction she pointed. Out into the clearing past the branches he could see the low curving hill. He remembered this clearing, for it wasn't far from the Cave where his aunt had been digging last year. He and Lucy often came here, for the ruins of the castle grew thick with ivy.

However it wasn't ivy that snaked among the trees now, but a gleaming length of sapphire blue. At first the shiny surface reflected the sunlight like a car. It wasn't an auto, however, for it ran long and thin in one direction, and swelled to large mounds as his eye followed it the other. Large spiky protrusions sprang up along the growing hummock, covered in a cracked shiny mosaic of spectral blue, ultramarine, and sapphire.

He drew in his breath as he saw the twitching of the tip of the long thin length. Slowly it curled, as if were a living serpent. A spade shaped tip flickered up, then lay down once again. It wasn't a snake, but a tail! What was at the other end froze him in place. His eyes curled around its length to the swelling hill it was connected too. The large spines flattered out much like the bony plates on a stegosaurus' back, laying in two rows up to a rise of perhaps higher then his aunt's van. Gracefully it humped, to disappear under a huge tarpaulin on three shiny blue poles. Out of the other side of the tent poked a long length, which ended in a head, much like that of a dinosaur he'd seen in the Museum. There was a distortion in the air near the scaly nose, much like steam rising from two holes. Nostrils. Looking back he saw a mouth shut fast, with a mighty set of jowls running into a small drum shaped structure, and many bony spikes above a large shut eyelid.

His first thought was Dinosaur, but the head was unlike any Stegosaurus he'd seen in the movies. It was more massive, like that of a T-Rex, but graceful and slender muzzled like that of a horse. Slowly the creature yawned, revealing a set of teeth that certainly reminded him of T-Rex.

"Mega," he gasped. "A dinosaur! But it's not a stegosaurus, or a Brontosaurus with those teeth."

"Not a dinosaur silly," his sister hissed. "A... Dragon..."

"There's no such thing," he laughed.

"Does a Bronto have long sharp teeth?" she asked.

"A T rex does, and so does an allosaur," he said. "Maybe it's a mutant!"

Before she could stop him, he crept out into the clearing to get a closer look. The sapphire head shifted and twitched. Tim reached the tip of the massive tail; glad the dinosaur seemed asleep. He would hate to get caught in those wicked fangs. Sure enough the tail ended in a spade shape, flaring out from the tip. But the crown of the tip was perhaps as big around as his ankle. How large was it? Slowly a blue eye blinked open, and glanced back towards the movement. Lucy stifled a scream as she saw the head slowly lifting and gliding on its long neck towards her unsuspecting brother. Tim left the tail, stepping over it carefully as he moved towards what appeared to be a massive leg. The flank it was tightly folded under rose and fell with an almost hypnotic rhythm. Strangely for what he'd read about dinos, the skin was segmented into scales like a crocodile or snake, gleaming. Was it slimy or dry? His hand reached out to the heaving mass of shiny blue. A snort sounded behind him, and he felt heat on his neck. Tim froze in place, not daring to glance behind him. There was a movement of steam that gently warmed his hair and shoulders, a low rumbling that vibrated the air before his hand. Wasn't a dinosaur cold blooded?

He turned his head, staring right into the muzzle and two nostrils. Blue eyes fixed on him, his petrified expression mirrored in the dark narrow slatted pupils.

"Don't... eat me..." he choked. A disinterested snort and a low rumbling came from the throat, as it wagged its head from side to side. Bright sapphire eyes fixed him in their hypnotic stare. Then it drew its head back as he felt the movement of the flank behind him. The tent before him seemed to open, unfurl into two halves as he fell backwards. For the flank lifted, rose and towered. His head barely came to the massive knee of a leg as big around as a tree trunk.

"Oh no." Tim breathed, staring at the plates on a massive belly canopying over him. The tent unfurled into massive membranous wings that brushed the trees across the clearing.

"Leave him alone!" Lucy shrieked, rushing out towards the massive beast. She dropped Griffy behind her.

"Stay back!" Tim choked out as she tripped. The large muzzle descended upon his sister, who fell headlong. She screamed as she saw the nose touching her. A massive claw reached for her.

"Stop it you great brute!" Tim shouted, pounding the massive leg near him. Then he felt something snake around his hips and lift him into the air screaming and kicking. With supreme grace the ground swelled up as he was placed down next to his sister. The Dragon backed away, folding its massive wings with nary a small flutter to the air. Tim helped his sister to stand. Slowly they backed away together. The Dragon mirrored their movements, backing away as well.

"Run!" Tim shouted, as he grabbed her hand and yanked her with him. "Griffy! I left Griffy!" she howled.

"Never mind your stupid stuffed rag!" he shouted. "It'll eat us alive!"

She broke away from him, running back towards the clearing. The Dragon had not moved, and in one claw raised above its massive head was clenched her toy!

"Give it back!" she cried. Gently the claw lowered the toy, and gently set it down. The Dragon shuffled backwards as she stepped out. Snatching up the toy she ran back to Tim. The dragon did not follow. Instead it watched the two from a distance, laying down.

"Why isn't it following us?" she asked.

"It's trying to lure us into its confidence or something..."

"Wait, I' hear something," Lucy put her hand to her ear. AS if she could hear something he could not. A low rumbling intermixed with a strange whine. In and out with the rhythm of the breathing.

"Don't be dim I don't..."

"Shh. it's singing," she whispered, moving towards it. "Isn't it beautiful..."

"Are you mad?" he tried to stop her as she moved into the clearing. "It's a spell!"

"If it wanted to eat us, it would have done it in two snaps," she turned on him, Griffy tucked into her arms. "It gave me Griffy back!"

"Don't be a baby," he snorted. "It's gonna eat us!"

"I am not a baby!" she snapped back.

"I'm six and a half!"

"You are too a baby!"

A loud rumbling interrupted them, and they stopped in mid argument. For the Dragon lifted its head, a chuffing sound from its throat. It wagged its head from side to side as if shaking no.

"It's laughing at us," she said. "And scolding us..."

"What?"

"Can't you hear it?" she asked. "Its saying how disagreeable we are.... And it only wants to play with Griffy..."

He thought his sister had lost all her wits as she returned to the clearing. Marching right up to the Dragon's muzzle, she asked, "Do you wanna play?" A tail lightly stroked the back of her legs, making her jump with a shriek. "That tickles!" she cried, almost dropping her toy.

Tim marveled as the dragon hooded its eyes, and flicked its tongue quickly at Griffy, pushing it towards her. The muzzle nudged her, the tongue lapping around her face like that of a dog. A low purring sound erupted into a low soothing tone. "It's purring!" she cried as she reached out to touch the massive muzzle. It let her run her hand between the eyes, petting and stroking as it closed its eyes in satisfaction. Once more it lowered its head, letting the little girl pet it.

"I don't believe this," Tim groaned.

Marianne's throat tightened as her eyes registered just what she saw. A large sapphire bulk, moving within and behind the trees at the speed of a freight train. Again came a loud unearthly bellow, louder then a siren yet deeper.

"Tis a Dragon!" King Arthur gasped.

"You must surely be joking," Lydia Duane gasped. "It's... not is it?"

"There are stranger things..." Marianne muttered grimly. How could something that huge move so rapidly? Lydia gunned the Land Rover after it, weaving through the trees. Arthur and Marianne clung for dear life.

"It seems the villagers were right about a monster in the woods," Marianne realized.

"There must be some logical, rational explanation," muttered Lydia.

"WE must after the beast... if any get in its way," King Arthur said. Marianne nodded grimly, and glanced at their friend, who was clearly in over her head.

"It is not my wish for you to be harmed," Arthur said to her.

Laughter came from the trees, as the sound of jet engines roared. It was not the same sound, Marianne realized, although she secretly hoped it was. Again came the flash of setting sun against something ultramarine. Bright flashes of light resounded as shouts and bellows ensued.

"I'll have to insist you let us out here..." Marianne said to Lydia.

"What on Earth are you doing?"

"There are people in danger, and it is my duty to protect them..." Arthur said automatically, shredding his coat as he ran into action. Marianne too leapt out, after the King.

Two local citizens gasped in alarm as they were behind the bulk of an enormous serpentine head. Eyes blazed amidst steam. Two trench coated figures fired wildly at the snaking head upon a long cylindrical neck. Wind hit Arthur and Marianne as they rushed up, in a sudden gust. It blew up around the coats of the two fighters, revealing strange gleaming metal beneath.

"Two brave knights that attempt to save the citizens... the Dragon has captive..." Arthur muttered.

"Wait... things aren't always what they seem," Marianne cautioned as Arthur rushed out. Quickly he drew his sword, Excalibur flashing in the light of the setting sun. From the back of the Land Rover, a strangely wrapped bundle rustled. Lydia shrieked as she was doused in a hail of stone fragments. A piercing shriek wailed into her ears. Something moved from behind her. Again Lydia screamed. But this time a cheerful pair of eyes regarded her as a normal English accent said, "I beg your pardon ma'am terribly sorry to frighten you..."

"What... in the name of..." Lydia gasped with extreme fascination and terror as her eyes fixed upon the smiling beak of a Griffin.

"Name's Grief. Sir Grief... no need to fear miss..."

"What... who?"

His beak cocked towards the sounds of battle ahead. "By Jove, sounds like the King needs me..."

"The King..." Lydia said weakly, stammering in the direction of the bushes.

"Cheerio... must dash... some friends of mine appear to be in a bit of trouble," Grief saluted, two huge wings spreading. Red feathers coated their undersides as he leapt off the Land Rover, and into the nearest tree. A lion's tail and hindquarters flicked as he vanished. Lydia dropped against her driver's seat in a state of total shock at what she had just seen.

"Rrraaaagh!" bellowed the Dragon, as Arthur raced between the knights and it. Excalibur swung, deflecting the swiping claws.

"Oh, this is interesting," Jackal said to Hyena. "This guy's doing our work for us!"

"Why let him have all the fun," she laughed, and raised her weapon.

Marianne raced out, and gasped in fear. "Look out!" she cried to Arthur as she saw one of the figures raise its gun to fire.

Arthur ducked, the laser beam narrowly missing him. But she was not aiming at Arthur, but some other target. For there came an ear splitting wail that wrenched Mary's heart. Blood seeped in a strange hole in its leg.

"What..." she gasped, as she and Arthur picked themselves up.

"Milady... this is no place for you..." he called. Both turned to face the two warriors.

"Get out of the way," Jackal called.

"Forsooth you have saved us!" Arthur called, as Hyena fired again. Arthur didn't see the Dragon's tail until it had swatted him out of the way.

"No!" Marianne cried, rushing to face the Dragon. Two frightened children huddled forty-five feet away, in the shelter of a cavern opening.

Griff shot out, a red and gold arrow as he intercepted the flying Arthur. Quickly he caught the King in his outstretched arms. "A bit ruffled, your Majesty?" he asked.

"Ah Sir Grief, you have come in the nick of time!"

"By Jove, a Dragon!" Grief cried excitedly as he circled back.

Marianne suddenly shouted out, "By George I summon thine Aid!" before the Dragon could react. Beryl energy shot around her, swathing her in mediaeval armor. Shouting, she brandished her sword. A very surprised Dragon backed away from her, an odd look in its eyes. Jackal and Hyena shook their heads.

"What the hell?" Jackal muttered as he saw the woman in armor appear before their eyes.

"Who cares! Let's get what we came here for!"

Grief screeched, carrying Arthur as they circled back. Marianne felt the noise resounding in her heart, striking an odd cord as Arthur swung a power flash at the Dragon. It crashed against a blast of hellfire. Steam erupted in her face. Strangely the Dragon didn't seem to be paying her much mind as she slashed wildly. Nimbly it dodged her blows, shifting to two legs then to four. A quick slash narrowly missed Arthur.

Jackal and Hyena fired strange rocket packs, lifting off. They levitated within thirty feet of the circling Griff. Together they aimed their weapons, firing. Suddenly a bolt of fire crashed against them as the Dragon opened its large jaws. Gleaming tongues lashed out, hitting the trees nearby into a blaze.

Arthur shouted, fire singing past Griff's wing as he circled back, letting loose with another cut from Excalibur. But strangely the sword passed right through the Dragon's claw, without so much as leaving a mark.

Marianne rushed forwards, slashing as she lifted her shield to bear. The Dragon hardly seemed to notice as she aimed a stroke right for its hindquarters. As her sword passed through its leg, she gasped. It cocked its head in her direction, snorting with a loud grunt. Its eyes fixed upon her as she moved towards the children.

"Don't be frightened," she said, approaching them.

Arthur passed in again, slashing a stroke that would have decapitated an ogre. Twin shots from

Jackal and Hyena sponged against thick neck plates. Swinging its wings back, the Dragon set out

A blast of wind hurled Griff and Arthur through the trees.

"Who... are you..." the boy gasped.

"It's St. George!" the girl cried, clapping her hands. "He's come to fight the dragon..."

Marianne realized they saw the cross on her shield. "That's right I've been sent to save you... Quickly, come with me while the Dragon is distracted..."

"But the Dragon is our friend!" they chorused.

She moved both children away from the Dragon cave, pushing them along the edge of the clearing. Jackal cackled, jetting right into the Dragon's face. Claws slashed wildly. Both children screamed as they saw blue sparks snorting from its flaring nostrils. There came a sound like a burning transformer. A giant spark exploded in the Dragon's face, hurling Jackal backwards.

Arthur slid down with Griff from the tree, meeting with Marianne. "Get these children to Lydia!" she called to them.

"Wow!" the girl cried. "Are you a king?"

"Indeed I am," Arthur replied. "And here to save you two..."

"Go with them..." Marianne urged. Grief took both children, moving off into the trees toward Lydia's jeep. Jackal and Hyena continued their attack on the Dragon, as Marianne and Arthur rushed to their rescue.

Out of the corner of her eye Marianne noticed one of them raising a weapon to bear on Arthur. She opened her mouth to say something. Suddenly the weapon sizzled past him as she shoved him down.

"What?" Arthur snorted.

There came a shout as Marianne's helmet rolled off. She gasped as a blue claw swiped down of nowhere, wrapping around her waist. "Let me go!" she screamed.

"Milady!" Arthur shouted. A tree splintered to the ground, torn loose by the Dragon's tail. With a whoosh the trunk was set ablaze, separating Arthur from the creature. Jackal and Hyena raised their hands as fire leaked over them.

Blackness loomed up, eclipsing the night sky of stars. She gasped as the night vanished around them. Then came a sudden explosion as stray laser blasts from two guns hit the rocks of the cliffs and hills. Marianne screamed as she heard rocks sliding downwards around her. Dust choked her lungs in the blackness. She felt herself slip to the ground, the claw releasing her. Light blazed on as fire sprang up in one corner of the space.

Drawing in her breath, she stared at the creature. There she was, backed up against the cold cavern walls, when a huge muzzle sniffled against her armor. She shivered, fearing acid hot breath burning her skin. Yet the coolness in the air betrayed any presence of fire. Rather the Dragon withdrew its muzzle, and tilted its head to one size. Impossibly sapphire eyes examined her form. Was intelligence present therein? She gasped, pushing further into the wall.

"Well are you going to eat me or not?" she asked, fear pounding her heart. A disinterested snort of steam in her face was the answer.

"I suppose you do understand English," she sighed. A low whining sound escaped its throat as the long neck arched the head toward one foreleg. Across its wrist was a nasty gash. A long tongue snaked out, flickering across its ichorish gash. Slowly lapping up blood to stem the tide. From within the mighty neck came a bass rumbling. That rose in waves of pure sound. Healing rich as organ pipes. Mary put her sword down, and her shield to one side. Her interest fixed on the gash, which was slowly trying to close itself. Was this Dragon using sound to heal this wound?

Suddenly it hit her. Chas did much the same thing! When she had gotten a nasty scrape on her knees from a tumble down the stairs, he had held her close. Shushing her as he began to sing. In low baritone humming. Humming her anger and hurt pride away. The scrapes ceased bleeding, enough for him to gently bathe and bandage them once they arrived at her apartment. Could this Dragon be attempting something similar?

Mary tore a strip of cloth off her tabard. "Here let me, " she said, feeling the strange rumbling in her ears. It seemed to soothe her fears. Obviously if this dragon wanted to eat her it would have done so by now or was it toying with her? She recalled stories of her favorite fantasy novels. Of how Dragons could bewitch. But that particular Dragon could talk. This one didn't. But she hadn't heard it try.

She screwed up courage, and moved forwards, the strip of cloth held before her. The Dragon started, as she moved to the leg, which was thick around as a tree trunk. "Quiet, you're bigger than me, and could eat me in two bites I cannot possibly hurt you so just let me help "

She dabbed ever so lightly at the wound, hearing a hiss permeating the low bass rumbling. "Don't be such a baby. A great big creature such as you!" she found herself scolding. And a strange tenderness came into her mouth. Choking off her words. Tearing off more cloth she bandaged the gash, pressing rich tabard cloth to scaly flesh. Strangely the blood was hot to the touch. She had assumed Dragons were reptilian, hence cold blooded. But there were many things she had learned to question she had taken for granted in Science.

"I'm sorry if it hurts," she said, running fingers over the textured scales. Dry and smooth like a snake. She loved snakes well enough. Dry smoothness with warmth under it and soft flexible looseness met her fingertips. Yet each scale was overlapped like that of a fish. Warm. From behind, something gently pushed. Mary stumbled against the leg, turning about. The dragon's muzzle nudged her chest, a bit forcefully, yet with the playfulness of a faithful dog.

Moving up her chest it nuzzled her face, cold scales over hot warmth contacting her skin. Withdrawing for a moment, the blue eyes regarded her. A sparkle filled them. "Well, I never," she murmured. Reaching out a hand she lay it on the broad nose, careful not to burn her hands on the steam coming from its nostrils. Moving past the muzzle she stroked up over the eye, to behind one ear. A blue eye shut fast, a huge rumbling emanating from the mighty Dragon's throat sending fear into her. She continued to scratch, petting as if it were some gargantuan dog or cat.

The rumbling continued, the base tone she'd heard before laying overtop. "It's purring " she laughed half in shock and wonder. "Good grief! The ruddy thing's purring like some cat! You like that, don't you? Imagine this a Dragon loving being scratched behind the ears "

Still the fear gripped her. Thrill and fear that choked her throat. It was terrifying yet strangely exciting to be touching such a powerful force. Was it an animal? Or was it sentient? Did it matter? Her definition of intelligence was so limited and biased. What sort of creature would wantonly attack humans unless it had a cause to? "Maybe it's a mother, protecting its nest," she wondered. A quick glance around the cavern, which was not hidden by the Dragon's sapphire bulk, revealed no Eggs. Yet the Cavern appeared to wind much deeper than she'd expected.

Marianne dispelled her armor, standing back for a moment. The Dragon snorted in light surprise, sniffling at her clothed form with steaming nostrils. Then again it rubbed its cheek along her front, bumping her chin as it did so. A long tongue snaked out, brushing against her face as she coughed and spluttered.

"Hey! Do you mind?" she half laughed, half yelled in fear and wild thrill. Again the dry tongue flicked over her face and hair.

"Now see here," she said, seizing the muzzle with both hands. The huge head stayed fast, one eye blinking right into hers. "What is all this about anyway? Are you friend or foe? Obviously you don't intend to devour me or whatever nonsense like that. But are you simply toying with me? Or have the villagers in some way provoked your attack? Is that it?"

The eye blinked again. And something much like a low growl escaped its throat. An affirming tone as if it were. "Is this your nest are you some sort of Guardian or parent?" Another low tone, rumbling in its throat was its answer.

"Do the townsfolk threaten you?"

There was a shake, which bumped her to one side. A dragon Claw caught her in its' grip. Mary gasped, fearing what it would next do. Again the muzzle zoomed into view, a foot from her face.

"I take that is a no," she stammered.

Rearing up on its haunches, the Dragon held her in one massive talon. Wings folded behind it as it reared on its hind legs. A low rumbling came with its nod.

"Does one particular person threaten you?" Another rumble affirmed her statement. "But why are you here? Are you a natural species?" she began. And then scolded herself for sounding so clinical. How could this Dragon possibly understand such words? Even though it seemed to understand her English well enough to respond.

A nod surprised her. The eyes sparkled with a light that suddenly resembled a twinkle in the eyes of a beloved teacher.

"Apart from the obvious why would anyone threaten you or this Cavern?"

The claw gently tightened around Mary, and she shrieked. Dropping to three of its limbs, the Dragon delicately glided further back in the cave. And lay itself across a thick stalagmite. Already she could see darkness from outside. Separated from them by a massive boulder the Dragon had moved there. Small cracks were all that let remote moonlight in.

"Hey what in…"

Slowly it reached into another part of the cave, withdrawing something in its other claw. In its hands were an odd pile of shining scales and feathers. It dropped them before itself, and placed Mary firmly beside it. One talon pointed to the pile. A heavy snort and steam hit the back of her neck.

"What?" She fingered the scales. They were of many different hues and colors. Not sapphire blue, but opal, gold, red, and black. "Other Dragons live here or lived here at one time?" she asked.

Again the tongue reached out, licking across her face.

"But " she coughed, pushing the tongue out of her face. "It was knights or a human that killed them is that it? Is that the story? Are you the last of your kind?"

An enigmatic snort and rumble was her only answer. There came the clank of a stone as its spade tipped tail moved it into the light of Mary's sword. Gasping she dropped to her knee. The celtic spirals and runes looked remarkably similar to those stones in the Church.

"Good Grief… is this what I think it is?" she asked, fingering the stone. It was the size of her fist, river finish smooth with etchings. Glancing about she saw other odd carvings upon the cave walls, strange runes that must have stood for centuries.

"But you can't just keep me here " she said, frustrated.

For a moment the Dragon turned, its massive body moving with a grace that belied its bulk. The tail narrowly missed her as it moved before her and the door. The long neck moved to another far corner of the cave, and suddenly dropped something before her. It appeared to be a flank of deer.

She was about to shudder, when a neat tongue of fire licked from the Dragon's mouth, licking over the mass of meat. Massive claws gently peeled off the skin, and flesh from bones, as roast venison smell rose to her nostrils. One claw grabbed her again; as the other peeled off a bit of roasted meat, and pressed it skewered on one talon before her mouth.

"You want me to eat that, " she said, with a bit of apprehension. She took the morsel, which was quite a sizable chunk of roast venison. Dripping with all the juices of life and clearness it was hard to resist. "Good grief I don't believe I'm doing this," she muttered as she reached to eat.

Two children huddled with their aunt Lydia Duane in the Land Rover. Both frightened out of their wits, but starting to calm down now that Griff was with them. The girl seemed strangely unafraid of him, as he clutched her in his massive arms. The boy gripped his hand, nervously climbing into the vehicle next to Lydia.

"Who... what..."

"It is all right! We have rescued the victims... and here come the King now..."

"What King?"

"King Arthur!" the girl cried. "I saw his sword Excalibur!"

Indeed the figure that rushed back with billowing cape seemed right out of a TH White book. The raised sword, the noble countenance, the wrinkled brow all fused into a portrait of a worried man indeed. His plate mail gleamed in the Land Rover's headlights. "The Lady has been kidnapped!" he related to Griff.

"What happened to St. George?" asked the girl. "He was fighting the Dragon... just like in the legends..."

"There isn't such thing," Lydia gasped.

"We just saw him," the boy said. "Or someone carrying his shield..."

"Wait... you... where did you get that armor, and what is going on?" Lydia asked him.

"Milady, our friend has been captured by a dragon, and King Arthur is most indeed worried," said Arthur Pendragon. "And the two noble knights came to her rescue are returning..."

Jackal and Hyena suddenly burst out of the trees, engines flaring as they landed. "That was a big mess, sister!" he shouted.

"Hey, it's not my fault you screwed up with those brats..."

Seeing the strange assembly, they landed. Lydia looked at them oddly, as Griff's eyes narrowed at the sight of them.

"It's the Pack!" the boy shouted. "They're criminals!"

"What?" Arthur cried.

"Kids say the dandiest things," laughed Hyena.

"But you are not noble knights?" Arthur asked, drawing in his breath.

"No way buster. And as for your pet parakeet... our boss would love to get the lowdown on you..."

"Who are you?" Lydia asked.

"Better not say a word of this to anyone," Jackal said to her, grabbing Lydia's chin and flicking open his claws. "I suggest you take these two brats, and scoot before my sister dear changes her mind about dinner..."

"Do as he says," Griff suggested. "We'll be all right... get those children home..."

Lydia hugged the children to her as she got into the jeep and drove away, rather reluctantly. Leaving Arthur and Griff in the clutches of the two "knights".

"Now what is the meaning of this?" Arthur demanded.

"It's simple. We have a job to do, and we don't need weirdoes like you interrupting it," Jackal said.

"And since your friend is a Gargoyle, I'm sure our employer would be more then happy to let you off for it..." said Hyena.

"But the Dragon..."

"Is none of your biz wax!" Hyena snapped. "Now shut up and come with us, if you know what's good for you!"

"Thank goodness you're all right!" Anne cried, moving towards her daughter Lucy.

"Mommy it was St. George!" Lucy sobbed, springing into her mother's arms.

"St. George?" she gasped. "But that's... oh dear are you hurt?"

"We saw a dragon," the boy said. "I told you it exists..."

Dr. Moorewood-Smyth moved towards his colleague, as Lydia rushed to his arms. "Are you all right, my dear?" he asked.

"I don't know what I saw, but it was most distressing... and it captured Dr. Ellis..."

"No," Anne gasped, holding her daughter and son tightly.

"It was a dragon, and there were two nasty dog people chasing us..." Tim said.

"Start at the beginning, right now," Anne scolded. "And no stories..."

"But I'm telling the truth Mum!" Lucy insisted. "I saw St. George, and I saw the Dragon!"

"They... are telling the truth," Lydia gasped, from Dr. Moorwood-Smyth's arms. "Believe me I saw it with my own eyes..."

"You cannot be serious," Smythe gasped.

"I have never been more so then I was about the Scrolls of Merlin," said she.

"But where is this King Arthur now?"

"Gone..." she gasped, shaking her head.

"Am I so ill I need the bloodletting?" he wondered as he saw these odd leeches with clear bodies marked with lines. Once the belly was filled, the leech was pulled out in a swift motion. Arthur found his armor and standard set off to one side in the shining white firmament of the room. He could not move even if he wanted to.

"Be I in Heaven?" he asked, tongue like a lead weight in his mouth.

"It depends on what you mean by that... sir," a low smooth voice spoke. "One man's heaven is another's hell..."

"What diatribe is this?" Arthur asked, unable to do more then turn his head to look at the source. Like the others, this draped figure had human eyes bright in the strange ethereal light. "Be you magician or sorcerer?"

"To you, perhaps yes," he snickered. Arthur glimpsed at the site behind the man, (it had to be a man, for the frame was broad shouldered and tall) gasping as he realized who it was.

"Sir Griff!" he gasped out, before shutting his mouth. Slowly the Gargoyle turned his beak to face Arthur, his eyes blazing as he struggled against the bindings.

"Screech!" he roared, eagle wings flailing.

"What have you done to my companion!" Arthur shouted. "I swear if you've harmed him..."

"You are hardly in a position to complain," the smooth voice laughed. "This is hardly a good time for you to object to my saving your life..."

"You lying scum!" Griff shouted. "Your rotters captured us!"

"Were those two knights your minions..." Arthur growled. "If so..."

"Calm yourself sire, or should I say, Your Majesty," the voice tisked. Pulling the scarf away he revealed a pallid complexion and clean- face.

"What is your purpose, sorcerer... and how know you of me?"

"Come now, it's scientific reasoning... simple as adding two and two..." Dr. Sevarious laughed. "That device on your chainmail, the aging in your genetic markers... I'd say from the Mitochondria DNA dating back to 4th century Britain. All the evidence suggests that you are a Briton. And the artifacts also, from my unwitting experts, have told volumes."

"I may be, but this is hardly a way to treat the High King... as a common knave!"

"High King are we?" he laughed. "My, my we do have a flair for the mighty..."

"How dare you insult me, Arthur Pendragon!"

"Arthur Pen... what?" Dr. Sevarious laughed. "Are you seriously saying you are King Arthur?"

"I am indeed, knave... or sorcerer be you, I am prepared to resist or offer what ransom you will have... for my release..."

"Actually there is a small task I am wishing you to accomplish... for if you are really King Arthur..."

"Do you doubt my word?"

"It would explain a great deal."

"No sire! He's evil!" Grief shouted. "Don't listen to him! Goliath said..."

"Dear me, you know Goliath?" Dr. Sevarious sighed. "That is most unfortunate... and you, and English Gargoyle too! It would be a shame to loose such a prize specimen..."

"What is your price?" Arthur snapped.

"Oh a simple quest, your Majesty," Dr. Sevarious laughed, mocking him. "Namely slaying a dragon..."

"You know of the beast?"

"Do I! My er... knights were attempting to slay it when you barged in."

"Tis my apology if it were their quest... but the lady woman with me was endangered..."

"And that is another matter. The rescue of the fair maiden," Sevarious laughed. "She is known to me, and I wish her safe return..."

"But why hold my noble knight captive?" Arthur demanded.

"My dear King we live in skeptical times. Call it incentive. With him as hostage you dare not fail. For even now he is infected with a disease that only the death of the beast will cure, for he was scratched with the Dragon's claws..."

"Don't trust him sire!"

"I have little choice," Arthur muttered, eyes narrowing. "Where am I to find the Dragon?"

"You must wait till my Knights summon you to join the battle. Even now they are readying themselves to engage it..."

"Then I shall..." Arthur gritted, even though he knew it was a pack of lies. He would bide his time well.

Blue eyes blinked at her, from the graceful muzzle. Those protuberances were they horn or ears she couldn't help but wonder as she pushed the muzzle back. Slowly it rubbed against her chest, moving higher till the cheek caressed her breast lightly.

"Hey you," she choked as the tongue flickered out again, lightly across her cheeks. The contact made her shiver. It was madness. From behind she felt a light flicker, making her jump as it brushed the back of her thighs. She fought herself to a sitting position, moving back.

"I though you weren't going to eat me..."she gasped as the muzzle seemed to follow her. Then a length of tail snaked around her hips, slowly lifting her. She could not help but shiver at the feeling of the warm scales on her flesh. A clawed talon reached up, ever so lightly prodding her arm with its tip. The blue eyes flickered and sparkled, her reflection visible within the slatted pupil. Its long neck snaked around, positioning the head to within six inches of her as the muzzle sniffed her again. The tail transferred her to the claw, which held her firmly under the arms, wrapping around her hips. Another claw slowly traced over her form, and she shuddered. What was it doing, sniffing her as the tongue flickered over her face, then down her bare neck. Preparing to eat her?

The alternative seemed laughable. Marianne froze as she felt the claw slipping under her shirt, pulling the material aside. "Oh no," she lost all breath as the material lightly ripped apart. Buttons fell to the cavern floor. Cleverly the tongue flickered over revealed flesh; Marianne flinching as it caressed over her bosom. The tongue worked in strange strokes down, till it reached her belted trousers. She suppressed a shriek as the tail snaked around her waist.

What was that the legend said about dragons stealing maidens away? Not to eat them? Perhaps... it was curious as to what lay beneath her clothing. It was maddening as the tongue warmly flickered over her breasts, skimming over their curvature as it slipped betwixt shirt and bra. Almost as if it knew how she liked to be touched.

Positioning her on her stomach in the palm of one talon, she felt the claw slip under the waistband of her pants, slipping as it seemed to puzzle the fastenings. This creature was enormous, perhaps forty-five feet in length, with massive limbs. What interest could it possibly have in a human woman beyond food? Unless it was some sort of a voyeur!

Holding her with the tail, the talons slit the cotton, peeling it aside. "Cut it out!" she felt herself shout in vain as the material was stripped aside. It was warm in the cavern, still warm as hot dragon's breath wreathed around her bare skin. All up and down her back she felt the sniffing muzzle, as it drank in her scent.

"What in blazes are you..." she got out as the tail lightly tickled the back of her thighs with its spade tip. She shrieked a laugh, choking it between her teeth. Clothing landed in the ground in a heap as she glanced at its descent. Now only in her bra and panties she shivered with fear and terror. This creature surely wasn't thinking what she thought it was. She'd be crushed in massive weight under that bulk! Again the tongue flickered over her body, tracing down her squirming stomach. She breathed and hissed as the tongue slipped upward across her breasts again, lightly and delicately caressing with the gentleness of a lover's touch. Then downwards, as she felt her hands try to stop it.

"Please... don't," she felt herself whimpering. A low rumbling from the dragon's throat sounded, the muzzle brushing against her back as she felt herself laid across its massive chest scales. On a soft yet hard underbelly of sky blue scales. So warm and soothing like the bricks of a hearth, it heaved and rose and fell under her back.

"I... have a boyfriend," she choked out. "Or... I used to..."

At her words came a tenor crooning. The eyes closed halfway as the muzzle rubbed over her chest. How could something so massive be so gentle? Ever so lightly the tongue slipped, moving up her thigh towards dangerous territory. She suppressed a groan as a claw held her in place, supporting her back. The tongue slipped up, dancing around and over the soft silky material. Warmth fanned her, drawing a massive shudder throughout her body. No, this was wrong! A million reasons flew to pieces as the material was peeled away with unmatched dexterity. Ever so softly the tongue worked its way over her nether regions, the nostrils sniffling and snorting as she moaned in a low shuddered shriek.

Marianne let forth a scream, shaking and crying against it chest as it supported her in its clawed hand. Laying on its back the Dragon held her aloft, the tongue about the size and breadth of her arm working its velvet magic in delicate strokes. As a serpent it glided, caressing, massaging in ways she couldn't imagine. All the while shivering in a massive orgasmic release pent up from the months of separation. Lord how she needed the release? How could this creature possibly know the innermost recesses and the sweet secret places of her being?

It was disgusting, her rational mind though. An animal, a beast doing this. Ravishing her, a human woman. The other side of hot lust boiled up, dammed up for too long as she moaned. Soft moistness coated its tongue as it continued, the hot steamy delicacy fanning her passion. Till she found she could not move, and was gently dropped to the heaving chest. A large membranous wing draped over her like a leather blanket, the Dragon settling on its side with her tucked under its wing. Marianne shuddered in the last few massive waves, her whole body wracking with sobs. It felt so bloody good, but so wrong. What would Chas make of this if she ever... if he ever...

Marianne turned onto her stomach, laying her bare front across massive scales. Her lips gently caressed against them. This was insanity, a great beast awakening such desire within. Somehow it had sensed her need, and responded in kind. Not crushing and harming, but gently working her to a perfect orgasm with the skill of her lover. Unimaginable. Only Chas himself knew such secrets. How could a Dragon?

"Oh God I miss him," she sobbed to the Dragon. "I love him so much and my stupid pigheadedness... I've lost him..."

She burst into tears, her whole body shaking under the wing. A low cooing noise rumbled beneath her cheek. Offering what comfort it could, the Dragon's muzzle lay near her, the tongue gently caressing her cheek and face in long strokes. She could almost imagine it was Chas, caressing her with his masterful hands. Soothing away the tears that threatened to form.

"I suppose it is my fault, taking up studies with Macbeth. He's only his worst enemy," she found herself spilling for it to hear. Would it understand?

A snort and nod affirmed her statement. "He is attractive, but its Chas I love," she grabbed its muzzle. "I never wanted to hurt him! I knew they were enemies, but what has Macbeth done for him to distrust him so? I'm so confused! The last thing I wanted was for this fight... and now it's too late... I'll never see him again!"

Another round of sobs burst forth. Patiently the Dragon listened as the rest of the story spilled out. Blue eyes seemed to hold sadness as it listened, the steam warming her to the core. Strangely the massive bulk seemed to shrink. Marianne shrieked as she found the wing also shirking, the neck shortening. Till she lay across a creature no larger then a gargoyle, her naked flesh pressed close to its.

"What the Devil?" she choked, scrambling out from under the wing.

"Don't be afraid, sweet one," came a low rumbling voice as she felt the tail wrapping around her waist to stop her retreat. "It is easier in this form..."

"You... you speak," she choked. "Why now, and why didn't you before?"

"Tis easier in this form, lass," came a distinct Welsh accent. Bright blue eyes in the muzzled face glanced at her. It was a Dragon still, yet a much smaller version. About seven feet high, its legs and arms in proportion to those of a human. Arms folded over her chest as she hid her breast from view of bright sapphire eyes.

"I shouldn't be here... no... This is too much," she gasped. "I have a lover already. A human one… or mostly human..."

"It would be sounding t' me as if ye had a falling out," it said clearly. "And you'd be missing him..."

"Oh Lord, I do," she whined, as she felt the tail pull her close. "What you did... how did you... why did you... who are you?"

"If you'd be asking fer a name, Orlorin wuild do fer that. That be a centuries auld name. Given by the fair folk..."

"Marianne," she pointed to herself. "Marianne Ellis..."

"Ye are a most brave lass t' come after a Dragon. I wanted t' thank ye fer saving ma life. Tis that seemed the best way. And ye... have not shared love fr quite a time. From what I ken of humans, to be without ones' mate is madness. And you'd be wanting comfort this night..."

"Comfort?" she choked. She turned aside her face, the warm tongue lapping over her cheeks. This time it was merely the width of a human one, still forked and perhaps rather long.

"Hmm yes, lass," the Dragon crooned, pulling her close. Membrane wings held her nude body to his scaly one, the tail sliding up and down her leg. Massive waves radiated through her legs, making her moan.

"Don't..." she whined, tears in her eyes. "Oh please..."

"Is your choice," he whispered, the tongue retreating as the hands lightly played across her bare shoulders. "I have not met a human as brave, and with the warm scent for centuries. Nor one whose scent was so nigh pleasing to the taste of one such as me."

"Are you the last of your sort?"

"If ye be meaning am I the last of my kind, yes in a way."

"And the townspeople do kill... and threaten..."

"Ye are smart ye are," he crooned, the tail slipping over her nether regions, choking her response in her throat. "Most wise... and soft as well."

"Ohh..." she breathed, loosing all control at the smooth scaly talons that traced her form. "Mmm, how can you possibly know..."

"The scent is strong in you, lass. Begging for comfort, for love. Let me thank you, offer you my gift of gratitude..."

"You... want... to... make love... to me?" she gasped, seeing the twinkle in the eyes. "But... it's crazy..."

"Is it?" Orlorin asked, clawed hands lightly tracing her hip, and over her bare bottom. Marianne yelped, jumping as she felt the coldness of the floor on her bare feet. Something pressed against her stomach, gently caressing as she felt her hands drawn to it. Incredible. Did this creature really want her? A human woman, a member of a species that tried to wipe it out?

"Sleeping with the enemy," she got out as she was gently lifted and caressed. The tail had a mind of its own, rocking her into a small wave of pleasure she dared not hold back. Her legs latched around the massive waist, sliding up and down. Bare breasts pressed close to the smooth scaly chest. Membranous wings folded her body to his, and she was blasted sure this dragon was a male. The evidence slipped and moved against her inner soft thigh.

"The enemy?" asked Orlorin, chuffing with amusement. "Are ye not the mate of a singer?"

"Yes... a dragonsinger..." she stammered. "That is another reason we shouldn't. My... boyfriend... might... get mad..."

"He would not stop a debt of gratitude. I offer a gift. To not accept it is considered rudeness indeed..."

"But he was furious when he thought I was with another man!" she stammered. "And now I loose all hope of ever winning him back by... mating with a dragon?"

"Tis honesty what he wanted, if he be a singer..." said the Dragon softly. "And that was the worse part of yer offense. And right now what you'd be needing is the sweetness of mating... for the wound is deep..."

How in blazes did she kiss a wide mouth so formed as a muzzled dragon's? She did not bother to ask as her lips pressed against its muzzle and neck. The tongue obliged, slipping against her lips in a soft touch. She well remembered its activity before. Her arms wrapped around its scaly neck, a bit short as the muzzle brushed her mouth. Hands caressed down its back to the place where wings joined body. Elisa had told her that was a spot for Gargoyles. Why not dragons?

The response was immediate, and gratifying as Orlorin hissed and reared. She worked the wing joint with her hands as she felt the sudden rigidity below. As she was lowered and impaled she first expected it to hurt massively. Even though her love life would suggest herself ready for another activity. Marianne threw back her head, screaming out loud as she rocked back and forth on the rigidity, thrusting gently within, sleek as it moved with its own mind.

"This insanity has to stop!" she screamed in the caverns. The Dragon's moan and hiss undergirded her cries, as it thrust firmly and sweetly with no more force then a human male would.

"Let there be no shame, little one," came Orlorin's roar, low and tenored as a clarinet. "For this is a debt of gratitude..."

"But what would Chas say," she cried, in massive orgasmic waves that overtook her.

"Chas be yer lover?" the Dragon asked, as it withdrew.

"Yes. Chas Quinn Cassidy," she stammered out in the darkness.

"Then be there no fear indeed. We know him all well and guid. If ye are his woman, then luck is on our side..."

"But wouldn't' he... be angry with me for doing this..."

"Ye have my word he will come t' know. And understand...." came the answer. "For there is little among Dragons he does not know. And little one... that cannot be explained..."

Within sleep she moved. Under her cheek she felt cool smoothness, like a textured bit of metal space blanket. A rumbling sounded under her ear. Mary opened her eyes to see herself lying on the Dragon's stomach, a claw gently holding her in place as the creature slept half on its side, on its back. It was full size again. Did it happen or was it some odd dream? The long neck curved around as the tail arced in an odd semicircle. Long wings were folded close in the space. Marianne lay a gentle kiss on the scaly stomach, spreading wide her legs as she caressed its chest with her whole body. Curling onto her side she settled under its talon again. In sleep a large wing draped over its side, covering her like a tarp against warmth.

Small rocks pelted her from above. The sounds of explosions shook the air, just outside. She could hear voices. Was it some sort of rescue party?

Sapphire eyes snapped open. A low growl sounded in the Dragon's throat. "Orlorin!" she called to it. "Wait don't do anything!"

But already it was beginning to move the stone from the entrance. Daylight flooded Mary's eyes with its sharp light. Cries and exalted shouts sounded at the cavern mouth. Marianne gripped her sword, and rushed to see.

The Dragon swiftly moved out into the morning sun, a low loud growl echoing in the cave behind. It can sure move when it has to, Mary thought as she rushed after it. Morning sun glinted off two flying specs that fired upon the Dragon. Marianne drew in her breath sharply when she saw it was two humanoids in glittering metal costumes. They buzzed about like bothersome flies, just before the Dragon's face as it reared up.

"Come on you beast! Let's see what you're made of!" laughed the male voice. "I'm in the mood to squash a lizard!" laughed the female. Jackal and Hyena! It must be them! For the Gargoyle's description of them. Mary saw the bright gleam in their eyes as Jackal flew towards the Dragon's neck. Angrily a wing batted him back. With a nasty laugh Hyena flew in next, long sharp claws gleaming as she slashed at its shoulder.

"No!" Mary screamed, a sudden protectiveness coming over her. For she did not see a monster, but a rare creature taunted and assaulted with no provocation.

"George, I summon thine aid!" she cried aloud. The power rushed through her, and once again she stood in full armor.

Already the Dragon flailed and batted at the two flying forms. Snorting and growling it reared. Hyena's claws raked three crimson strokes upon its shoulder. With a roar, the Dragon singed its flame blast past her.

Jackal flew around and around its shoulders, holding a gun in one hand and an odd container in the other. "Don't kill it, sis! I need a sample "

"You'll have all the sample you need when I've carved this overgrown crocodile!" Hyena snarled. "I'll teach you to singe a lady!"

"You're no lady!" Marianne shouted, rushing out to meet them.

"Well looky what we have here? First a Dragon, and a Knight in Shining armor?" Hyena laughed.

Jackal flew forth, lying his container by the open bleeding wound that Hyena's claws had made on the Dragon's neck. Angrily a blast of fire flared inches from Jackal. He laughed, levitating just beyond the flame's range.

"Let's wrap this up!" Jackal said, his hand dropping off and a strange barbed instrument appearing. A phut of compressed air launched a cable across the Dragon's neck. Roaring, it swatted Jackal like some annoying fly. He crashed into the nearest tree, leaving a sizeable dent in the bark.

"You'll pay for that, monster!" Hyena screamed. Her laser blasted as she flew straight at the Dragon. Fire roared past her, barely missing her. Long claws glistened as she orbited its massive sapphire bulk. Marianne rushed out, to the fallen Jackal. Quickly he had jumped back to his golden boots. He raised his weapon, aiming to fire as Hyena had the Dragon distracted. On its haunches it batted at her, fire spilling in long crimson tongues. Her sword flashed, cleaving his gun in two. As he turned to face, his foot flew towards her. She blocked with the Shield of St. George. Her sword drew a sizable gash on his arm, but instead of blood, hydraulic fluid dripped to the ground.

"What are you? Man or machine?" Marianne asked in wonder. That sparking from his arm was much like circuitry.

"An upgrade!" Jackal laughed. "And you're sadly in the wrong time, you rustbucket!"

She noted the test tube in his one hand that he placed in a hollow compartment in one arm. Hyena laughed endlessly as she continued to taunt the Dragon. Staying just head of his slashing talons, she wove back and forth. Mary swung Wavedancer, an arc of power spinning towards the cyborg. Energy crackled around Hyena as she felt the full force of the stunning magic. A long dragon tail snaked out, swatting Hyena in a whipcracking boom. She flew out of sight.

Jackal snarled to face Mary. Sword whirling in one hand she kept her shield before her. His laser weapons zinged harmlessly off her shield and armor. Another swinging stroke slashed against his chest plate. Through the gash she saw the crackle of circuitry.

"You can't slay me," he laughed. "I'm not some mythical monster you can spear with a lance..."

Then a hail of lightening crashed down from above. A dozen gizmos popped out of their respective sockets as his tongue popped from his mouth. The rockets engaged, firing as he wildly took off and spiraled away into the trees. Marianne shuddered, sniffing a distinct odor of mingled hair and burning wires. Yet it was far enough away from the lady and the dragon. Too far for Marianne.

"Orlorin! We must stop them!" Mary cried. "Do you know what was in that tube he had?"

The Dragon's head lowered to her, cocked to one side as if to listen. "They took a sample of your blood! I bet a pound to a penny that they are working for Sevarious! And they want more than just a trophy!" The head withdrew, arcing around. She shrieked as the muzzle bumped her back, the neck lifting under her backside as she was thrown onto its neck.

"You want me to ride you?" she gasped as the claw positioned her in place where neck met mighty shoulders. Sure enough the sapphire dragon scampered quickly, wing extending to their full length. There was a shudder as she felt the Dragon heave, hindquarters swaying as it gathered the energy to pounce. With a mighty leap it soared into he sky. "Oh no!" she cried, squeezing her eyes shut as she almost lost grip on her sword. She willed it away to its scabbard as her sword hand gripped the massive ridges on its neck. Mighty wings beat as the wind whistled in her ears. Under her the earth stretched like a massive chessboard of fields. They circled around, and around, chasing the smoke that curled up from the trees far below.

She heard a cackle from Hyena, flying ahead in a golden blaze. From the trees rose Jackal, few signs of damage on his body as he dropped into formation beside her. They were talking to each other animatedly. From what Mary could hear in the distance she heard something about DNA.

"Well, do we follow them, or fry them?" Mary breathed as she brought her face close to the Dragon's neck.

A blast of lightening shot forth from its mouth, streaking into the skies. The very air sizzled with the force of its power. Between Jackal and hyena the circuit was completed. Seven strokes passed as they gave their united cry of alarm. Circuits buzzed with additional power, their gizmos clicking wildly. Two golden specs whirled and spiraled out of control in opposing directions.

"Good grief," Marianne muttered, still clinging tightly to the blue scales for dear life. "That's enough power to light one heck of a Christmas tree!"

Blue sparks arced from amidst the Dragon's long fangs. There came a loud bellow of triumph, sounding into a trumpeting laugh. Still she caught her breath, wind whistling through her armored helmet as she felt the laugh reach up through its shoulders into her own torso. Soon she found her own high-pitched voice blending with that of the Sapphire. Never had she felt so full of the thrill of battle, tempered with the feeling that she was protected no matter its outcome. This Dragon would not fail her, she sensed.

"Onward to glory we go," she could not resist shouting at the top of her lungs. A low roar buoyed up her battle cry from the throat of the being. Glorious like a trumpet sounding across hills and forests.

"I assure you that this situation is under control!" Dr. Sevarious laughed.

"What is that thing?" the mayor demanded. "We've heard rumors of your genetic experiments! Is that creature a spawn of your science?"

"You read too many tabloids," Dr. Sevarious laughed.

"It's utterly ridiculous," Morewood Smythe broke in. "Dragons?"

"No it is not Arthur!" Lydia cut him off. "I saw it with my own eyes! There is something out there, and it acted intelligently…"

"A story told by two imaginative children, and you're going to believe it?" asked Sevarious with a laugh. "Out of the mouths of babes?"

"My daughter said she saw a dragon. And my children may fantasize, but they do tell the truth under such stress… " Anne spoke. "She has no reason to lie to me…"

"You must admit there are some creatures such as bigfoot, and the Loch Ness monster, that have enough credible witnesses…" Lydia Duane broke in. "You are a scientist yourself, Dr. Sevarious. Can you as a geneticist deny the possibility such creatures exist?"

"You are all reasonable people," Dr. Sevarious turned to the Mayor. "And this is a most frightening situation. If there really is some species of creature unknown to science… why not investigate it, if what Ms. Duane says is true…"

"There have been sightings of such Dragons centuries ago," Anne Pricefield said. "In legends. It is suggested that was the reason this church was built, as a shrine to St.George by the locals, for the threat of dragons…"

"Old legends have a grain of truth," said Lydia. "I have seen it myself. When we excavated the Scrolls of Merlin last year, in the Cave, most extraordinary things started to happen. And upon Easter island… Arthur you must admit there was the most extraordinary evidence of…"

"We met an actual extraterrestrial," Arthur Moorwood-Smythe coughed.

"Alien beings?" laughed Sevarious. "That is most interesting indeed…"

"Maybe so," the Mayor folded his arms. "But what has that got to do with us? If there is a dangerous animal lurking in the forest, we aren't safe…"

"Which is why you must let Nightstone Industries capture it and study it. As a good will gesture for your town. We are equipped with the most modern DNA sequencing equipment. Even now my people have taken samples of blood from alleged siteings…"

"So you have seen the creature!" Lydia pointed a finger in his face. "Why deny it?"

"I simply didn't wish to alarm the good citizens," Dr. Sevarious smoothly refuted. "After all being a good scientist I had hoped to gather more evidence…"

"So what do we do?" asked the Mayor. "Round up people to help you hunt it down?"

"I wouldn't advise that. My company is fully willing to help deal with the situation. All I need is more time to assess the problem…"

"And what is it going to cost us?" asked Anne.

"Oh, I'm sure your council would be willing to come to a negotiation," said Sevarious smoothly.

"Let's talk tonight," the Mayor nodded.

"But what about the renovations to the Church?" asked Anne.

"You will see to that, and we shall see to this…" the Mayor said. "But I ask that all work be suspended till the situation is under control. No one is to leave their homes…"

Arthur moved quietly amidst the trees. How difficult would it be to hunt a dragon? For fortunately he had Excalibur with him. That strange wizard he didn't trust him at all. Not while Sir Griff was in danger. Or the lady Marianne. He had to get help with this. Perhaps those of the Village would be willing to lend a hand.

Softly he moved his way back. It was only a bit further. Suddenly a loud clear bellow shook the air above him. Wind whistled as a black shadow eclipsed the sun, and Arthur shielded his eyes to peer up at it. In an instant it was gone. The sound of thunder split the air at its retreat. From the distance he heard the buzz of a helicopter, that strange flying windmill headed towards the town.

Pulling his trenchcoat over his armor, Arthur walked into town. No one walked the streets. Not even one child or dog milled about long stone driveways before each house. In the Town Square the upright monument stood as it had for perhaps several centuries, the Church of St. George across the square from the Green Dragon pub, or the local bed and breakfast.

However the grass leaned under the assault of noisy battering wind. Slowly the flying windmill descended into a grassy spot just to the side of the monument. Arthur rushed across the open road towards the Green Dragon, hoping not to be spotted. For the words upon the great snarling beast spelled out Nightstone. He had no desire for the Wizard to see him here. Instead of the fool quest he'd sent him on.

"It is a freak of nature, that I intend to save you from with my Science. In my hand I hold a vial that may mean the difference between life and death. If you let Nightstone build its new factory here, I promise many more miracles."

"Nay," says one of the old people in the council. "For even now our Champion has arrived to fight the Dragon..."

"St. George you say? Who is promising you new jobs? Him or me?" Sevarious asks.

Arthur comes up, angry. "How dare you insult a noble Saint!" he cries.

"And who are you?"

"One who has tasted the disease your company gives. And one who has seen the Lady fight evil! She carries the very standard of George himself! She will stop the Dragon, not this modern filth!"

"Clearly you are a bit... excited..."

"I saw the Dragon being fought by the Lady!" claims another person. "But the dragon carried her off..."

"What?" Arthur asks. "Where?"

"The old cave in the mountains. The Dragon's Grotto, called Merlin's Cave..."

"Then I shall confront it myself!"

"And who are you?"

"Arthur Pendragon," Arthur said. A low murmur came from the people. Disbelief spread like a puddle radiating outwards.

"Do you seriously expect us to believe that?" Sevarious laughed.

"I am he," Arthur lowered his head. "Come back from the Hollow Hill..."

Lydia Duane suddenly spoke up, "I believe him! He is King Arthur!"

"If you're King Arthur, where is Excalibur, and your Knights of the round table?" laughed the Mayor.

Reaching at his hip, Arthur withdrew his blade. A spark of light seemed to jump from the mythryl steel. In one smooth movement he held it aloft before the throng. "I do not lie, my gentle people," he said softly. A hush came over the jeering crowd. The Mayor choked his own wittiness in his throat. Arthur's blue eyes traced across the room.

"And we are in a moment of dire peril. For a Dragon seeks to attack your fair town. And I have been sent to stop it, and rescue St. George's champion from its power. Who among you would help me?"

"I would sire!" came a clear voice. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as a Griffin strode among them, to kneel before Arthur. "Count me in!"

"This is one of my noble knights, wizard," Arthur turned to the Mayor. "May I present Sir Griff."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance sir," Griff stood up, and took the astonished Mayor's hand. Lydia Duane strode up to Arthur, a smile upon her face. Griff took her hand, kissing it as he dropped a bow.

"Also a pleasure to see you again ma'am."

"Lady Lydia, you have our royal gratitude for believing," Arthur Pendragon bowed to her. She blushed slightly. Morewood Smythe felt a pang of jealousy. "And there is another who quests for Merlin is there not?" Arthur asked, catching a glimpse of Moorwood Smythe.

"Er yes... quite," said Smythe, moving up to stand beside Lydia. He slipped his arm around her waist. "We only just a few years ago found the Scrolls of Merlin!"

"This is all very cozy," Sevarious broke in. "But even if you are King Arthur, what could you possibly do to save the day? Kill the dragon yourself?"

"If need be," Arthur shrugged. "Now who is with me?"

"I am," Moorewood Smythe and Lydia chimed in. Several others did as well, even the Mayor who was not sure if he was going potty with all this nonsense. Something in Arthur's presence struck him as regal, a charisma and command few dared not question.

 Griff takes Arthur, Dr. Sevarious and the townspeople go to find this "dragon." A local camera crew and the mob rush to the lair.

A strange sight awaits them.

"Look! Even now St. George's champion confronts the Dragon," called Arthur. For at that moment, Marianne Ellis held close to the Dragon's neck, struggling as the two golden warriors rained their fire against them. Eagerly the crowd gasped with amasement.

"Oh no," Marianne gasped, taking in the crowd. Among them was Dr. Sevarious, gleefully rubbing his hands together. "Let the battle be joined," Arthur shouted as he noticed Jackal and Hyena.

"That one's mine!" Sir Griff shouted as he took to wing. Arthur raced out, waving Excalibur aloft as he faced the sapphire bulk.

"Arthur no!" Marianne cried as Orlorin reared. She was catapulted backwards off its neck. Tumbling she rolled and lay quite still.

"Knave, prepare to face the once and Future king!" Arthur shouted as he rushed to the rescue. Marianne moaned as she felt Arthur helping her to stand. Suddenly laserfire hit them, glancing off the armor with a burning sizzle of air.

"Behind you!" Marianne shouted. Arthur spun, Excalibur whirling in a bright wheel. A hale of arcing elffire corkscrewed up towards Jackal, sizzling against golden cybernetics.

"Nice try King, but no cigar!" Jackal laughed. Yelling, Arthur brandished Excalibur as he charged.

"Fight the Dragon!" the people took up the chant as Marianne turned to the sapphire.

"What do I do?" she asked, moving up with Wavedancer in hand.

Within her mind she heard a low voice, *Let's give them what they want fer now. Ye must fight me…

"But..." she stammered, as the Dragon advanced upon her, its claw raised high. She swung desperately with Wavedancer. The weapon passed right through the claw, not drawing any blood. Yet the Dragon let out a fierce bellow as if it had mortally wounded him. The lights went on in her mind. If it was a sham, why should they know?

"Have at thee, monster!" she shouted, charging towards its chest. A roar as the Dragon's tail swatted her playfully aside. Oohs and ahs shot from the crowd as she staggered to her feet. With a roar and whoosh of steam a cloud enveloped Marianne. She knew it was just smoke, without heat, even so it drew a cry of fear from the throng. Meanwhile Griff slammed into Hyena, pushing her earthwards. She crashed, groaning as the Griffin pinned her.

"Get off me!" she shouted.

"Not till you behave," Griff laughed.

Arthur's next shot connected with Hyena. A stray blast of electricity from the Dragon sizzled into him. This time he felt his systems short out as he crumpled to the ground.

Marianne saw the wink of a blue eye as she charged once more, Wavedancer held high. "Creag a tuire!" she screamed, leaping as her sword cut through its neck. The Dragon crumpled, bellowing in a whoosh of fire. It lay quite still.

"You have done it!" Arthur shouted, turning to Marianne, who stood with her blade held above the Dragon's neck.

"No. It spared me. I will not kill it..."

"You must. It is a menace!" cried the townspeople.

"Have you lost all reason?" Arthur asked, as Marianne withdrew her sword. The blue eye opened, glancing up at her as the dragon lay quite still. He advanced, Excalibur gleaming as he brandished it.

"No. You will not touch it," she says. "It is not a menace. That man is..."

Arthur wondered why she was pointing so fiercely towards Sevarious. Her finger trembled with the fury that wracked her whole frame. She was a time bomb waiting to explode into action.

"He is a wizard but..." Arthur responded. Marianne stood before him, blocking his blade with Wavedancer.

"No, I won't let you kill it... I have fought it and triumphed..."

"Slay the beast!" cried the crowd.

"You must..." Arthur said, his voice low as his eyes grew cold. Rather roughly he elbowed her aside, rasing Excalibur above his head. Something cannoned into his middriff, knocking the King off his armored feet. Slowly he climbed upon them again to see Marianne advancing on him with drawn weapon.

"If I must fight you I will!" she hissed. "But you will not slay the dragon!"

Suddenly she was gripped from behind as Griff held her. "Let me go!"

"The lass is bewitched by the wurm, surely. Hold her, Sir Griff," Arthur said. "I will lead the attack..."

"Stop!" Marianne cried, kicking as she squirmed out of Griff's grip. A huge claw plucked Griff off of her, tossing him aside like a stray sheet of notepaper. Around her enclosed the other claw, gripping firmly as it lifted her nearly twenty feet into the air.

Sir Griff shook his dazed head, somewhere among the trees. A dozen people filed behind Arthur, who shouted, "Release her from your spell fowl monster, or die!"

"Don't provoke it!" Marianne cried, as she squirmed in the Dragon's grasp. "It means no harm!"

Suddenly a strange mist shot forth from the Dragon's mouth. Wreathing and misting around the people, they crumpled unconscious to the ground. Arthur coughed, batting the mist away with Excalibur. "Stop!" Marianne shouted at the Dragon. "Orlorin, don't do this!"

"Griff! To me!" Arthur cried, coughing into the mist that separated the dragon from his savage blows.

"You see!" Dr. Sevarious forced himself into the Mayor's face. "The beast will kill you all! But I have a weapon against it!"

"What can you do?" the Mayor asked.

"In my hand I have a biochemical agent. My scientists have developed it to use against parasites such as rodents and lizards. It is developed from the blood samples procured by my employees! I entreat you, let me use it to stop the dragon!" Arthur coughed as he batted aside the mist. Sevarious snapped his fingers, and two suited employees slipped a breathing mask around his face and shoulders. In his hand he held the vial. As the mist wafted, people retreated from the scene. Flashes of light were visible as Arthur's sword swung left and right.

"That Dragon will be taken care of..." Dr. Sevarious said before vanishing into the mist. "If the maiden will not subdue it, I shall with Science. And it can make a most valuable contribution..."

"Back everyone!" the Mayor shouted. Just then Lydia and Arthur moved up to the front of the crowd, trying to hold everyone back.

Sevarious swam through the mist, batting as he saw flashes of electricity. Above him arched the Dragon's neck, showering fire left and right. Arthur and Griff desperately leapt out of the way of the massive arcing tail. Totally unnocticed, Sevarious rounded to the Dragon's flank with uprasied canister in his gloved hand.

"Come any closer to it, and you die," Mary grits. "You gave it a sickness with your genetic disease... and I will help it..."

"If you do, this town will lynch you..."

"Let them try," Mary says. The Dragon breaths fire, and separates itself from them with this flaming wall. It is weaker now. It weaves a mist that subdues the townspeople. Arthur runs to the rescue. But Excalibur meets Wavedancer in a mighty crash.

"Don't you see Arthur!" Mary cries. "This dragon is like the Gargoyles! It is a misunderstood creature! To kill it would be murder!"

Griff suddenly sees how the Dragon doesn't harm Mary. "Sire, maybe we are wrong! This Dragon could have killed the Maiden. And she is alive!"

"We must destroy it!" cries Sevarious.

"You would destroy it with your science!" Mary cries. She holds up the Shield of St. George before her to shield herself and Orlorin from any future harm.

"Are you or are you not George's champion?" Arthur asks.

"Isn't it a knight's mission to protect the weak and defenseless. To not harm the innocent?" Mary asks him. "This Dragon is innocent! It gave me mercy! I won't kill it! You'll have to kill me if you want to kill him!"

"I do not wish to harm you," Arthur says, as the people come around him. "But as long as the Dragon lives..."

"Please, your Majesty," Marianne said, Wavedancer held before her to meet Excalibur. "My sword passed through it, showing its innocence. If you do the same, Excalibur will prove his innocence..."

Arthur approached the Dragon, who backed away. He passed his sword through the dragon's claw. And there was no wound.

"This Dragon is not evil!" Arthur gasped.

"I will deal with it. One way or another!" Dr. Sevarious laughs. "Behold the power of modern science!"

He throws a vial at the Dragon, which shatters in a mist. The Dragon coughs as it tries to resist the power. But it appears that it is a biological weapon. Mary screams as she throws an arc of light at Sevarious. He crumples under Wavedancer's power.

"I would kill you here and now if I wasn't a Christian..." she gasps. "But it is too good for you..."

Then she turns to the Dragon. "Go in peace..." she says to it, lowering her sword. "I will not let any here harm you..."

The Rector of the local Church comes to Mary. Somehow he escaped the affects of the sleeping spell. "If you are St. George's champion, why do you not kill the dragon?"

"I... cannot say," said she. "Because that dragon was evil. This one is good. And are we not taught to hate the sin, not the sinner? Dragons are capable of great good as well as evil. As are all God's creatures. Man himself is capable of great evil..."

"But it is a monster," the Rector says to her.

"So are lions, and we revere them for their strength. A Dragon is worthy of Mercy... if it is a noble beast... is it not?" Mary appeals to the crowd.

"But you carry his shield! Are you not a Dragon slayer and protector..."

"It is not so," says a voice. For she sees the image of the very Saint himself above her.

"I cannot do it! I cannot kill it!" she calls to St. George, and throws the shield aside. "If this is what it means to carry your standard, I cannot let an ideal contradict what I feel is right in my heart! I am not a good choice for your champion, and I'm sorry. Perhaps... there is another besides me more... suited to do what you will..."

"Child, would you throw aside my gift if I myself commanded you to slay the beast?" he asked.

"Yes, I am so sorry, curse me. But it is wrong... for hate and ignorance. You told me to deal with it and I did..."

"Then this is my judgement," St. George's voice came, with stern steeliness in her ears. Mary took the steely edge far within, and set herself for reprimand.

"Hold there," came yet another voice that made her heart set on edge. That made England's National saint silent.

"There will be no reprimand nor judgment," spoke the voice, still and soft. "She will not raise a hand to slay the being. For how can you expect her to contradict her nature?"

"Those who ask for my protection cried out to me in their prayers for intercession," St. George responded.

"And you know even a Saint can be mistaken," came Andrew's voice. For she saw another form in her mind eye, far older and ancient of a spirit materializing at George's shoulder.

"The Dragon I slew was evil," said he, looking again to Mary.

"But Excalibur revealed the Dragon here is innocent..." Marianne said.

"By her actions she has proven its innocence," spoke the calm clear voice of Andrew.

"Then... she has redeemed it so," George's voice answered reluctantly.

"Do not be angry with me," Marianne whispered. "For I only sought what was in my heart to be true."

"So it would seem. And this was test for us both." said her Protector and Patron. "Go in peace, to love and serve. Carry my standard before you, and you will not fail. Remain true to your heart and principles, my child. For you are she whom I have chosen as my Champion. And it is your destiny that you and I are such bonded in spirit..."

She felt the energy blur and merge as the Saint vanished, a bit deflated. Then she turned her face to the blur of light that was St. Andrew. "Why did you not appear to me before?"

"That is not my way," said he of Scotland. "You are in my hands, as you were in his. And your heart lies with the ancient ways. Be transformed by them and be compassionate. For he whom you love was saved by your actions as of late?"

"You mean... Chas..."

"You will see him sooner than you think. And know your love has prevailed..."

"But to which of you shall I listen?" she asked him.

"George shall guide and protect you, as shall I always. He holds no permanent anger for you for defiance. For he would rather have your true nature then serve him with an unwilling heart. But know that to question is not forbidden, for the Author of all things granted you reason. And your heart knows its truth. Be transformed by this revelation. And know that my love for you is strong, you who are as a daughter of Scotland as well as that of England..."

Marianne felt strangeness coming over her armor. As she looked to the tabard of St. Andrew upon her chest she noted the odd change in the cross upon her shield. For it was no longer the simple cross of bars. But a far more elaborate pattern indeed. For superimposed on one corner was a strange spiral design. And her armor took on a much different ornateness, the x cross of St. Andrew intermingled with even more ornate Celtic design. Her armor seemed to lighten in weight, a much easier and lighter shirt of chain mail replacing the cumbersome plate. She rose, facing the group again.

"He himself has told me," Mary said to the assembly.

King Arthur came to Mary, with Griff at his side. "You took a big risk, Milady," he said. "For the legend praises him as the slayer of the Dragon. But he now knows that Dragons are also ones of that which the Maker made. And can be capable of great good as well as great evil."

"I know... but sometimes people can take legends and twist them to suit their purpose, like Dr. Sevarious," Mary said, as she moved to help the Dragon. Gently she applied the healing powers of Wavedancer to him. And he began to cure and mend.

The town Rector marveled, as the Dragon comes to life once more. Still the townspeople sleep. "Truly St. George himself does speak to you, as did that of another." the priest says. "But how odd that this is the turn of events..."

Mary turns to the Dragon, who then speaks to her, "I for one am glad that you have chosen to spare my life... speak, and you will have whatever you wish... for it is within my power to grant certain magic..."

"I only want the man I love back," she says to the Dragon. "For without him I am not complete. Even though he left in a jealous fit... I miss him, and know he was foolish... as was I..."

"And what else do ye hide on yer tongue?"

"I know that I have the strength to say no. When my principles are conflicted..."

"I am sure he will be very pleased with you, and most sorry for letting you slip away from him," the Dragon says. "For the man who loves you must be very fortunate indeed."

"I doubt you could grant this boon," she says.

"He's not as far as ye think," the Dragon says, with a wink of a very blue eye. Gently the muzzle of the Dragon brushes against her with the most delicate of touches. And she scratches it under the chin, his long tongue caressing her cheek with the softness she so badly missed.

"Why do I feel like I know you better than I think?" she asks the Dragon.

"Trust yer instincts, Mary," it says to her. It turns to leave, spreading its large wings.

"Wait, will I ever see you again?" she asks.

"Sooner than ye think... Musha..." it calls to her as it flies away. Mary blinks in amazement. No one calls her that except... except Chas! Could it be? No, she thinks. It's too crazy.

She blushes and nods. And the people disperse, going about their drinks in their own time. Live music plays in the pub, where the people laugh and drink.

"This whole situation was the oddest I have ever seen," Dr. Morewood-Smythe said, leaning back in his chair as he curled his hand around a pint of bitter.

"That's how I first reacted when the whole affair started," Marianne laughed softly, sipping her Guinness.

Lydia Duane stirred her gin and tonic, laughing, "And to think that you, King Arthur were here all this time... and we who have studied you our whole lives..."

Shyly Arthur Pendragon swirling his wine, regarding her. "It is good to know so many remember my name," he said softly. "But I am not sure this strange world is quite ready to accept me again..."

"You're a legend in our time, sire," Lydia Duane told him. "My whole life I've admired the legends, wanting to believe they were true... and here they are..."

"Legends," Marianne muttered. "They seem to have an odd habit of springing up when you most doubt them..."

"Oh, here comes the entertainment," Dr. Morewood Smyth said, touching Lydia Duane's hand to quiet her laughing.

Nearby a band jigged into order. The gentle hum of an accordion shifted into that of a guitar.

Mary's ears pricked up when she heard a fiddle suddenly coming into the mix. Quickly she glanced towards the front of the pub, to the golden radiance of the stage. Every eye fixed upon the fiddler, to watch his nimble fingers running up and down the bow.

Lydia sighed, as she appeared to be transfixed. Dr. Smythe coughed, nudging her as he noticed her eyes tracing over the fine lines of the musician's slender body. True he wore blue jeans and a loose shirt decorated with Celtic spirals, but those jeans had a rather nice fit across the thighs.

Two blue eyes glanced in their direction, and Marianne felt the heat flush into her face. All her fears and sadness tumbled through the gaze as her eyes raised to fix into his. The energy betwixt both observer and musician tingled Arthur and Lydia at their table.

She blushes as his set ends. And he goes to the bar for a drink; she comes alongside him, handing him a pint of bitter. "New to this town, stranger?" she asks him.

"Mary," he says with a smile. "Yer quite a celebrity here... are ye not?"

"Well, it wasn't how they say it was... I didn't really kill any dragons..."

"Aye, I know," he says, a sparkle in his eyes as they turn green. "And that shows ye a greater hero yet..."

"You're making me blush," she says. He sips his ale, and looks to her. She cannot stop her eyes from tracing up and down his well-muscled figure. Devoid of any fat, and oh so firm.

Anne's eyes fixed on Marianne as she noticed her friend alongside the fiddler. For a moment she felt a pang of jealousy. He was absolutely gorgeous!

"And it's a pleasant sight to see. Fer an idjit such as me..."

"I was afraid I'd never see you again," she says to him. "I came after you, thinking you were in Ireland, or perhaps even England... but no sign. And here you are of all places..."

"Hmm, I wasn't far away at all," he says to her.

"You knew I was here all along and you did nothing?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, we didn't exactly part on guid terms if yet get my meaning," he says. "I let the green eyed monster get the better of me. And fer that I'm sorry."

"Chas, I sincerely hope that you can be a part of it, not be in the way of it," she says, grabbing his hand. "And you were right... I was faced with a decision. And I didn't follow blindly... I was so close to giving it up..."

"What are ye saying?" he asked, his eyes turning a slight shade of gray.

"What I mean is," she gritted. "You were right and I was wrong..."

"I take no pleasure in it, if that's yer meaning," he says, a somber look on his dark features.

"Curse it, you! I'm trying to apologize..."

"And I'm trying t' apologize to you, fr being a jealous amadon! That's what I'm trying t' tell ye, lass, is there is no need fer such a thing!" he responds, his voice raised ever so slightly. "Now stop this silly groveling' before I'm tempted t' give ye a stern larruping! I ought t' bend ye over my knee this minute! The nerve you think that ye are t' blame!"

"Good grief you're a sight," she says, wiping a tear from her eye. "I just realized I even missed your scolding! I must be losing my mind..."

"Ye really must have missed me then," he said, calming down. He smiled slightly as she shook her head and laughed.

"I missed you, Chas," she says to him. "Heavens above I missed you... I couldn't eat, sleep or..."

"Hush now," he said, putting a finger to her lips. "I get the idea..."

Seizing his hand she kissed it vehemently. Mary felt her hands shaking as they held close and wouldn't let go. Soothing warmth filled her at the touch of his skin on hers. Instantly she moved into his leather sleeved arms, burying her head in his shoulder. That slick leather and the evergreen smell surrounded her as a protective aura. And the cold sensation of that golden torque around his neck tingled her cheek.

"As do I," she sighed deeply. Just to hold him again. But why did she get the sense that he really hadn't been far away? Some odd sensation tweaked at her deja vu. Where had she last felt this warmth and security? And that odd smell, of sapphire stone freshness? The last time was the Dragon's lair. As she held his hand in hers she noticed what appeared to be a rather new scar, which was healing nicely.

Dr. Morwood-Smythe and Lydia Duane noticed the young couple, from their own table. "Isn't that sweet," Smythe commented, sipping at his Guinness.

"To think she was searching wildly for this gentleman, and it turns out he was the evening entertainment?" Lydia laughed. The two colleagues exchanged a smile as they watched the couple dancing. There seemed something so natural, so right about them, that it put other couples to shame.

"Chas, where in blazes did you hurt your hand so badly?" Marianne asked, seizing his hand.

"Er, it was quite a nasty pair o' thugs," he said. "But a rather nice woman helped me... and I was ever so grateful to her..."

"And who was this woman?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Are ye jealous?" he asked.

"Don't change the subject..." she said, a bit stern.

"And what if I did?" he asked. "What if I was saying I had a terrible time of it myself right enough, without seeing ye for a whole month...."

"Ooh, that's so unfair," she sighed.

"Aye it is... but I know ye well, do I not?"

"Too true..." she laughed softly, as she felt his lips softly caressing her cheek. Inside her heart melted, and the anger evaporated in the warmth of his love. "Mm. I never tire of that..."

"Nor I," he said, taking her chin in his hand, and lifting it to stare into blue eyes that seemed a rich shade of hazel green. Verdant as the farmers fields in spring. Fresh clear dew upon them, the smell of steel and stone. The empathy opened as the distance was gone, and his gaze held her more intimately than before.

"Can you forgive my pride?" she asked him.

"There is nowt to forgive," he said. "It was my fault for presuming so..."

"I'm so used to doing what I must... without explanation... and the thought that you... I... don't know what to think..."

"Know this, I love you Marianne Lindsay Ellis. And whatever path they have put you upon, I am not far away. And there is something I would have done those two months ago."

Her heart pounded as he reached for something in his shirt pocket. Lamplight gleamed off a glint of silver as he clenched something small in his thumb and forefinger. He slipped it upon her left hand, upon the index finger of all places. And held up her hand to show her what it was. A heart was clenched betwixt two hands, a crown atop it. A claddagh, an ancient Irish friendship or promise ring. Except this was far more ornate and finely made then any one could find in a jewelry store. Had he made it himself?

"And it means a promise, right enough. I made the mistake of claiming you for my own without asking. And it was unfair... rightly so... But I pledge my heart to you, and hand it to your care in this... for if you are promised... it is worn so... but if it be friendship it is worn thus..."

Slipping it off her finger, he placed it in her palm. "It is yair choice..."

Marianne felt hot tears. And slowly slipped the ring up her ring finger, heart pointed towards herself. Chas eyes lit up a bright green indeed. She threw arms around him, burying her face in his neck as she cried. "My love," she stammered out between sobs.

The night went on by itself around them upon the pub's dance floor. Mary slowly swayed with the graceful moments, cool silver upon her hand that gripped his ever tighter. Afraid that if she let go this time, she would not see him again. Yet she knew she would. For he had given her the decision, and she had made her choice. What would the future hold for them, she couldn't say.

But it was her choice, not for him to say.

In the depths of her next kiss, his tongue slipped against hers in within the intimate spaces of her own mouth. Strangely the motion seemed blastedly familiar. She shuddered, pulling away as a queer sensation filled her.

"What is wrong?" he asked her, as his long arms encircled her waist. "Why do ye pull away from me? Was it something I did…"

"No I mean yes… I mean… something happened while we were apart… and I'm scared half to death to tell you what… but…" she breathed, hand over her racing heart. That hot flush came over her face as she sensed a repeat of the whole damned process again.

"Mary ye can tell me… please… don't hold it back…"

"Chas," she burst out. "I forgot to tell you... I... made... love with..."

"Wi a dragon?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. She pulled back from him, shame in her features. "Yes. He said he knew you..."

"Indeed he did," Chas said with amuseument in his face.

"You're not mad?" she asked, puzzling. "No. Since ye did save his life... he explained it fair t' me. And all tis a debt of gratitude. For among Dragons tis not unusual to share. And there are not many females to be had..."

"Chas, I don't get you."

"Someday I'll explain. Yell find out indeed..."