Tom Holt by 12 Paint Your Dragon

Author:12 Paint Your Dragon
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-11-01T23:34:40+00:00

The dragon opened his eyes.

There was, he observed, a large steel girder lying across his back. He shook himself like a wet dog, sending it spinning off into the rubble.

He appeared to have made rather a mess.

The drip-drip-dripping noise was still-molten steel; wire reinforcements in the concrete. The groaning sound was material contracting as it cooked, rather than an indication that there was still anything else even temporarily alive in the ruined building. No chance of that, whatsoever.

In the distance, the mechanical wailing noise the dragon had come to associate with impending public attention. He spread his wings, flapped them and rose in a cloud of dust and sparks. Job done, time to go home. Five wingbeats lifted him into the upper air; five more and he was cruising through the sound barrier, heading west.

As he flew, he couldn't help reflecting that, in exacting his entirely justifiable revenge on George, he'd also killed five demons -- well, so what? The worst that can happen to anything mortal is that it dies and goes to Hell; he'd saved them a bus fare -- and fifteen or so innocent human beings who happened to be there. Hmm.

No, the hell with that, it was a matter of omelettes and eggs. They belonged to a different species altogether and were none of his concern. To feed those fifteen, and all the others like them in this city alone, a million chickens a day ride to their deaths on a conveyer belt. And, emotive reactions aside, there was nothing wrong with that either because of a hard but fair rule of Nature called Survival of the Fittest. It was a rule he'd never really had a problem with, even when he'd been hiding in the rocks watching all the rest of his kind being exterminated by these people's great-to-the-power-of-twenty-grandfathers. Plenty more where those came from; and who's the endangered species around here, anyway?

As he flew, feeling the almost infinite power of his body, acknowledging the potential of his lazy but undoubtedly superior intellect, he sensed that maybe the jury was still out on that one.

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