Flight of Dragons(50)

“My lord needs to be placed in the basement. The Equinox is very close, and Bal will fight even harder to be free.”

“Why doesn’t Bal understand that being free means the death of both of them?”

“The dragon only understands that it has been caged in human form for too long. It doesn’t care.”

But they didn’t get far before Thorsson had to put him down. Balthazar’s body shook violently and smoke rose from his clothing.

“His skin’s too hot—my lord Lancelot!” He ran off.

She sat beside Balthazar and reached for his hand but dropped it quickly. His flesh was burning. She grabbed a dishcloth, soaked it in cold water, and placed it over his forehead. “Balthazar, can you hear me?” she said, trying to keep her tears back.

His shaking stopped, but his eyes darted beneath closed eyelids. She reached for the dishcloth and shrieked in surprise—the damn thing burned her fingers.

Footsteps rang in the hallway before Lancelot appeared, took one look at the situation, and scooped his brother over his shoulder. He hurried to the door beside the pantry with Thorsson following him, and went downstairs.

It all happened so fast, and Eva released the tense breath she hadn’t realized was lodged in her throat. She stood on the threshold, too nervous to go down, when Thorsson appeared from out of the darkness. “Lord Lancelot will stay with him,” he said, his hands shaking. “It is still early before the true battle between my lord and his dragon spirit begins.”

“May I see him?” The question surprised even her.

Thorsson’s eyebrow shot up. “That wouldn’t be wise.”

“I need to see him. I want to help if I can.”

Another tortured scream rose from the basement.

“Most people would run screaming from here, babbling madly to anyone who would listen.” Thorsson came up the stairs until he overshadowed her. “But you haven’t.”

“I’m not most people.” Eva anchored her hands on her hips. “Will you let me see Balthazar, or do I have to knock you out of my way?”

Suddenly, Thorsson laughed. “I have never met a person who was willing to enter a dragon’s lair.” He stood to one side. “Lord Lancelot will remain with him, so he’ll keep watch.”

“You keep calling them lords. Why?”

“They’re royalty. And as dragons, they command respect.”

Eva nodded slowly. She stood at the top of the stone stairs, listening to Balthazar’s anguished moans and Lancelot’s words of comfort. She slowly walked down until she located them on the opposite side of the basement against a wall. The floor was covered in dirt and the walls made up of huge slabs of unhewn stone. An empty cage dominated a corner.

Lancelot saw her and rose. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I—I needed to see how Balthazar was doing.” She stared at his shivering form, his bare chest and arms covered in burns. “What’s wrong with him? He didn’t have those burns this morning.”

“This is different. The burns are from Bal. Balthazar can’t release his dragon fire until he finds his missing scale. If Bal gets the best of him…” Lancelot didn’t finish.

“Will he be all right?”

“Balthazar normally pulls through.” Lancelot glanced at him. “He’ll take a beating, but when the Equinox has passed, he should be okay.”

Eva watched as Balthazar rolled onto his side and curled his legs tight against his body. “How long will this last?”

“Another day or two.”

A groan escaped from Balthazar. “Leave me, please.”

Eva started to approach him, but Lancelot grasped her arm. “I wouldn’t get too close.”

She shook him off and moved carefully so that Balthazar noticed her. He turned his head, and she gasped at the anguished expression on his face. “We’ll find your scale, Balthazar,” she told him, believing her words.

“Eva.”

“I’ll find it, even if I have to turn Iceland upside-down.” Her declaration surprised even her.

He closed his eyes. “Too dangerous.”

“You saved my life. It’s the least I can do.”

Balthazar opened his mouth, but a prolonged scream replaced whatever words he wanted to say.

“You need to go, Miss Haraldsdóttir,” Lancelot said. He grabbed his brother’s arm and led him to the cage.

“What are you doing?”

“Balthazar might leave the house during his fight. If he did, we don’t know what could happen.” He closed and locked the door.

“Has he always done this?”

“Ever since he lost his scale.” Lancelot’s shoulders drooped. “I don’t know how much longer he can last.” He held out his arm. “After you.”