The Coming of Dragons by A. J. Lake

Author:A. J. Lake
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, Young Adult, Adventure, Childrens
ISBN: 9780747570622
Publisher: Bloomsbury USA
Published: 2006-04-30T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

I won’t die like this, Edmund thought. Not for such foolishness. Shame burned in his chest and the fear vanished. He drove his foot hard into his assailant’s shin. The man cursed and staggered, but kept one hand gripping Edmund’s neck. Edmund slammed his elbow into folds of soft flesh, then felt a rush of savage satisfaction as the man grunted and pulled back. His grip slackened enough for Edmund to twist his head away, painfully shaving his chin as he tried to dodge the blade of the dagger.

Still gasping from the elbow jab, the showman grabbed Edmund in both arms like a bear. Edmund kicked out again and again, and managed to sink his teeth into a fleshy forearm. It stank of rancid fat, but the man flinched.

Edmund writhed like an eel, feeling his cloak tear. He ripped himself free and darted clear, leaving a square of cloth in his attacker’s hand.

The man laughed softly. ‘Lads, lads!’ His voice was hoarse, his gaze still fixed on Edmund. ‘There’s no need to get yourselves hurt! Throw me the brooch, and the wager is settled.’

‘Never,’ said Edmund. ‘You’ve not kept your side of the deal, so why should I keep mine?’

The showman’s lip curled back. ‘Because I am armed, and you are not?’ he suggested with a sneer, taking a step towards him.

Edmund backed to the stable doors. He could hear horses shifting uneasily inside. When he felt the door’s iron bolts jab in his spine, he stopped. The showman reached him in two strides and lashed out again, and this time the blade seared into Edmund’s arm.

Through a mist of pain, he heard Elspeth shout – and the world exploded in white light.

Edmund threw up his unhurt arm against the dazzle. He heard the man’s oath, the clang of metal, the whinnies of frightened horses.

When he could look through the glare, the showman was standing stock-still, staring at the hilt of his dagger. The blade had been sheared clean off. Beside him stood Elspeth, the crystal sword flaring in her silver-clad hand, filling the yard with pulsing light.

The man moved first. Still holding the useless hilt like a weapon, he took a step sideways, his red face the colour of clay.

‘It’s witchcraft you use, is it?’ he snarled, his voice unsteady. ‘I’ll have the Guardians on to you!’

Elspeth said nothing, just stepped forward and brought the sword up over her head, ready to strike again.

The man’s nerve broke. With a howl of terror, he threw down the knife hilt and ran from the yard.

For a long moment Elspeth stood with the sword raised over her head. Then she let out a long breath and let her arm fall.

The sword had come when she called it – and there had been a rightness to its appearance, as if the sword had answered her. Power had surged through her, a bolt of fire, with a shard of ice at its heart. Nothing can hurt you, it had promised, nothing…

‘Your sword can cut through metal!’ she heard Edmund exclaim.

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