The Dragon of Avalon Read Online Free PDF Page B

escape. Unless both predators died in their fight, he would still end this day being someone's meal.
    The fox, struggling to breathe, clawed frantically at his foe. Then, with one powerful shrug, he threw off the snake, whose long body splatted against the ground. Before the snake could slither away, the fox leaped over and bit off the reptile's head. Dark, bluish blood seeped out of the severed form, staining the wet soil.
    Even as he spat out the snake's head, the fox turned to face his original prey. His eyes smoldered like fire coals. The lizard swallowed, knowing that he'd run out of ways to escape. Except possibly . . .
    At the instant the fox pounced, the lizard did something utterly unexpected: He jumped into the rushing stream. While the fox looked on, seething with frustration, the small green body submerged in foam and disappeared into the swirling currents.

5: B ASIL
    Did I make that wish? Or did the wish make me? To this day, I can't say for sure.
    Rushing currents carried the little lizard downstream. Pounded relentlessly by water, flung against river stones, whipped by eelgrass, and spun around by eddies, he grew weaker by the second. And colder, as well, from the icy stream.
    Hard as he tried to churn his tiny legs, stiff from cold, he couldn't push himself onto the bank. The ragged folds of skin on his back, so unlike wings, merely dragged him down like the sopping sails of an overturned boat. So did his oversize ears, which filled with water and weighed down his head. Breathing was nearly impossible: His few instants above the constant swirl came without any warning and with barely enough time to cough before he was submerged again.
    Finally, the stream swung around a sharp bend where auburn reeds grew thickly under a sheer cliff. Caught by the reeds, the half-drowned lizard was tossed out of the surging current and into calmer shallows, where he lay motionless for several minutes. At last, he forced himself to move again and weakly paddled toward the shore. Fortunately for him, a dense patch of basil grew along the bank. When he reached the leafy herb, whose green color almost matched his own, he collapsed.
    His head spun; his chest ached. He coughed, vomited water, and coughed some more. The smell of basil—so strong it seemed to shout—wafted over him. He wished the smell, both sweet and tart, were even stronger, knowing that it would provide the best possible camouflage against enemies. Then everything went dark.
    He lay there, unconscious, for the next two days. Occasionally he would awaken for a few seconds—barely long enough to lift his head and smell the heavy scent of basil that shrouded him. Then he'd drop his head and fall into darkness again.
    Once, in a brief moment of consciousness, he stirred, as a heavy wind whipped through the basil leaves. Just for an instant, he thought he heard, in a familiar, airy voice, those words from distant memory: a life hhhwell hhhworth saving.
    A life well worth saving! Ridiculous! His whole life he'd spent hiding, being hunted, or trying to steal somebody else's food. Unlike many of Avalon's creatures he'd seen, he wasn't magical. Not at all. Even a lowly sparkworm, who could glow dimly at night, had more magic than he did. Why, he couldn't even fly! Nor even say what kind of creature he really was—just a scrawny lizard with round ears and useless wings.
    All he knew with certainty was that he wasn't the least bit worthy of Aylah's words. Those words, like her acts of kindness toward him, were as fleeting as a breeze. The sweetness of basil now tainted by something more bitter, he lost consciousness.
    In this state, he never knew how many predators crawled or slithered or flew nearby. Disguised by the herb's color and, even more, by its smell, he evaded the hungry river otter who swam past, the yellow-tailed fisherhawk who swooped above the shallows, and the tan-coated bear cubs who splashed through the reeds. Even the vengeful fox, still stalking his