The dragon was all saddled up and ready to go by the time the boys were done eating and as they inched their way out of the Cathedral, Narmathel jumped and slithered about as if itching to be off and flying.
Eric wondered if, at any moment, a searing flame might erupt from the great beasts nostrils to cook them like chicken where they stood.
Donavan on the other hand was instantly fascinated and hurried foolishly over to the mighty beast. Startled, the beast, reared it’s head clear back on it’s eight foot neck, and roared angrily. Griff hurried over to Donavan and pulled him back by the metal netting which was draped over his tunic for protection.
“Foolish warrior! One doesn’t just run up to a dragon who is ready for war! You have to show a degree of respect for such a magnificent creature!”
Donavan was just in awe of Narmathel. He quickly nodded his head in acknowledgment of the scolding but clearly couldn’t wait to be off in the air and on the dragon’s back.
Eric leaned heavily against the door jamb, running his hands through his hair again, his breakfast fighting with his intestines over the limited space and seriously considering coming back up on him.
Why couldn’t this have just been easier? No cars? No planes or helicopters? Of course not! Why would they have normal things like that here? No…they have fifteen foot blue people and eight inch tiny green trolls and they don’t ride bikes, they hop all over the place and fly on dragons!
“It’s no wonder they face extinction!”
A calm, smooth voice spoke from behind Eric. Without even turning to look, Eric knew it was the Lady Matron. He still didn’t trust her but it wasn’t like he had a whole lot of choice.
“You will instinctively know what to do as the moments arise young warrior. Your skin will speak the truth to you and you will learn to listen. Before this season is over you and your friend will have saved our queen, destroyed the Ogre King and returned to your own world.”
Eric seriously doubted every word she spoke but he had to admit…it did sound good.
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