The Dragon's Descent Read Online Free PDF Page B

reminded of Medusa’s garden from the mythology stories his dad had read to him as a little kid. One glance at Medusa’s hideous face instantly turned the viewer to stone trophies she kept in her garden. Mindful of this, Vero decided to keep his eyes on the floor, as a precaution.
    He darted through a multitude of statues, making sure to stick to the wall of the ever-expanding chamber. Wondering what could have transformed these angels, he bumped into a statue of a young girl of about nine or ten, who had her mouth open in terror, her head turned away from the wall. She was holding on to a pencil, which was still touching the wall, as if she had been trying to write something. Vero saw faint letters, faded with time. All he was able to read on the wall was “c katr ce.”
    Pondering what letters were missing, Vero pushed on. On the other side of the large chamber, a smaller passageway led into a smaller chamber. He continued into the inner cave. Suddenly, a rush of feathers hit his face. He coughed as he spit a plume out of his mouth. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, still careful to keep his eyes down. On the ground, surrounding him, were hundreds of drab-colored hens pecking the dusty floor of the cave. Peeking through his half-closed eyes, Vero saw that these hens were maybe two or three times the size of the ones on earth, standing well above his knee height. Vero wondered what this place was. What had the terrified statue girl been trying to write? Was it a warning? He recalled the letters, “c katr ce.”
    â€œWho are you, and why have you come to my den?” a smooth, deep voice called out to him, startling Vero, who opened his eyes wide and took in his environment. He saw a cave about the length of a basketball court, full of hens and statues, before quickly returning his glance to the floor.
    â€œWho are you?” Vero shouted.
    â€œI am called the cockatrice,” the voice replied, sounding only a few feet away.
    Cockatrice! That’s what the girl had written. Vero now knew exactly what the creature was. The books of Isaiah and Jeremiah had both mentioned the cockatrice—the half rooster, half serpent creature that, like Medusa, possessed a gaze that turned living things to stone. If Vero looked it in the eyes, he’d be added to the cockatrice’s collection of statues. Vero tightly shut his eyes.
    â€œI’m not here to harm you,” Vero shouted over the clucking hens. “Just passing through. I need to make my way through the maze. Any chance you could tell me the way out?”
    â€œForget the maze! You should be asking how to leave my den,” the cockatrice said.
    â€œGreat! Tell me which way, and I’m gone,” Vero said.
    â€œTo leave here, there is but one way. You must outwit me . . . or remain my ‘guest’ forever.”
    Vero gulped.
    â€œIt’s not so bad. I’ve never heard even a single complaint from anyone here.” The cockatrice smirked.
    â€œOn second thought, never mind. I’ll just go back the way I came.”
    â€œNo, fledgling. You must succeed where all the others have failed. You must outwit me. How hard could that be? After all, I’m nothing but an overgrown rooster.” The cockatrice laughed nastily.
    â€œYou’re also half serpent, with a killer gaze,” Vero added.
    â€œAh, but I am so beautiful to behold, one look at me is worth ten thousand deaths.”
    â€œI don’t think so. I already got a peek at some of your hens,” Vero said. “And they didn’t exactly do it for me.”
    â€œThey are not as beautiful as I am. I am one of a kind,” the cockatrice said in a soothing voice. “Open your eyes and stare at me. I’m right in front of you.”
    Vero instinctively stepped back. His sword sprung forth from his hand, and he held it out defensively.
    â€œThere’s no need for violence,” the cockatrice scolded.
    â€œIf I slay