The Dragon Griaule Read Online Free PDF

scrambling, falling, catching glimpses of Pardiel’s smoke-stained face, until finally – as Meric came to a large chamber – he felt the hook bite into his thigh. He went down, clutching at the wound, pulling the hook loose. The next moment Pardiel was atop him; Lise appeared over his shoulder, but he knocked her away and locked his fingers in Meric’s hair and smashed his head against the scale. Lise screamed, and white lights fired through Meric’s skull. Again his head was smashed down. And again. Dimly, he saw Lise struggling with Pardiel, saw her shoved away, saw the hook raised high and the foreman’s mouth distorted by a grimace. Then the grimace vanished. His jaw dropped open, and he reached behind him as if to scratch his shoulder blade. A line of dark blood eeled from his mouth and he collapsed, smothering Meric beneath his chest. Meric heard voices. Hetried to dislodge the body, and the effects drained the last of his strength. He whirled down through a blackness that seemed as negative and inexhaustible as the petrified man’s eyes.
    Someone had propped his head on their lap and was bathing his brow with a damp cloth. He assumed it was Lise, but when he asked what had happened, it was Jarcke who answered, saying, ‘Had to kill him.’ His head throbbed, his leg throbbed even worse, and his eyes would not focus. The peels of dead skin hanging overhead appeared to be writhing. He realized they were out near the edge of the wing.
    ‘Where’s Lise?’
    ‘Don’t worry,’ said Jarcke. ‘You’ll see her again.’ She made it sound like an indictment.
    ‘Where is she?’
    ‘Sent her back to Hangtown. Won’t do you two bein’ seen hand in hand the same day Pardiel’s missin’.’
    ‘She wouldn’t have left . . .’ He blinked, trying to see her face; the lines around her mouth were etched deep and reminded him of the patterns of lichen on the dragon’s scale. ‘What did you do?’
    ‘Convinced her it was best,’ said Jarcke. ‘Don’t you know she’s just foolin’ with you?’
    ‘I’ve got to talk to her.’ He was full of remorse, and it was unthinkable that Lise should be bearing her grief alone; but when he struggled to rise, pain lanced through his leg.
    ‘You wouldn’t get ten feet,’ she said. ‘Soon as your head’s clear, I’ll help you with the stairs.’
    He closed his eyes, resolving to find Lise the instant he got back to Hangtown – together they would decide what to do. The scale beneath him was cool, and that coolness was transmitted to his skin, his flesh, as if he were merging with it, becoming one of its ridges.
    ‘What was the wizard’s name?’ he asked after a while, recalling the petrified man, the ring and its incised letter. ‘The one who tried to kill Griaule . . .’
    ‘Don’t know as I ever heard it,’ said Jarcke. ‘But I reckon it’s him back there.’
    ‘You saw him?’
    ‘I was chasin’ a scalehunter once what stole some rope, and I found him instead. Pretty miserable sort, whoever he is.’
    Her fingers trailed over his shoulder – a gentle, treasuring touch. He did not understand what it signaled, being too concerned with Lise, with the terrifying potentials of all that had happened; but years later, after things had passed beyond remedy, he cursed himself for not having understood.
    At length Jarcke helped him to his feet, and they climbed up to Hangtown, to bitter realizations and regrets, leaving Pardiel to the birds or the weather or worse.
    It seems it is considered irreligious for a woman in love to hesitate or examine the situation, to do anything other than blindly follow the impulse of her emotions. I felt the brunt of such an attitude
–
people judged it my fault for not having acted quickly and decisively one way or another. Perhaps I was overcautious. I do not claim to be free of blame, only innocent of sacrilege. I believe I might have eventually left Pardiel
–
there was not enough in the relationship to sustain happiness for