Cautionary Tales by Piers Anthony Page A

body was slender and supple, and though her face was not glamorous, it was young, and that counted for a lot. I wouldn’t have minded at all if this had been real.
    Chloris’ eyes flicked in that headless way they had. I realized that this was so the dragon couldn’t tell that she was looking around. She was making more sense to me, now that I had seen the monster. “It’s coming to investigate,” she whispered. “We’ll have to make it look authentic. Make your hands stray.”
    â€œStray?” I had to be misunderstanding.
    â€œDo it!” she snapped.
    So I let my right hand slide down to stroke her posterior. What illicit fun!
    Then I saw the dragon, much closer, coming up behind her. My hand clenched involuntarily, giving her a healthy pinch. Oops.
    â€œDamn,” she murmured. “We’ll have to kiss.”
    So we kissed, but it wasn’t nearly as much fun as it should have been, because now the dragon was right up close, and I could hear the bellows of its breathing. The thing was huge and hot, and its scales rustled slightly as it twisted around. I kept my eyes squinted shut, now, but I felt the dragon’s breath on my neck. At any other time such a kiss would have held the whole of my attention, but it was singularly difficult to tune out such a monster.
    However, we couldn’t kiss forever. I was running short of breath. So I drew back. “Let’s go to your place, dear,” I said, opening my eyes.
    That’s when my gaze met that of the dragon. It was only a yard away. I flinched.
    The funny thing was that other people had collected, now, but they weren’t looking at the dragon. They were looking at us. They really couldn’t see the monster. They were limited in their perception to the smaller world. They hadn’t seen the picture of Jesus—or what it led to.
    â€œI can’t wait that long,” Chloris gasped. She seemed genuinely desperate, but not because of any passion for me. “There must be a private spot close by.”
    She was trying to make it seem authentic. I knew her desperation was because of the dragon, but it was having its effect on me too. How far would she go, to fool the monster?
    I started to unbutton her blouse. The other people watched, enjoying the spectacle of a couple about to make love in public. The average man is not only blind to the larger world, he has the sensitivity of a clod of manure.
    Then the dragon goosed me. Its tail came around and rammed me in the rear. I jumped.
    Immediately Chloris reached around and grabbed my rear, as if she were the cause of my reaction. She was trying valiantly, but the dragon wasn’t fooled. It opened its mouth. I couldn’t help staring at the very large array of teeth.
    I realized that this was fight or flight time. There was no hope of fighting the dragon. “Run!” I cried. I turned Chloris loose and started to move.
    â€œNo!” she protested. She still thought she could pretend ignorance of the monster. She stood still.
    I hesitated, turning back. I didn’t want to leave her. I hardly knew her, but she had done her best to help me. Yet what could I do? The dragon’s head was bigger than Chloris’ whole body.
    Nevertheless, I cast about for some weapon. There was only a plank lying in the gutter, perhaps fallen from a truck. Stymied, I stared stupidly as the dragon’s head struck at Chloris. It seemed to occur in slow motion, but that was because of my horror.
    At the last moment the dragon closed its mouth, and shoved Chloris with its nose. She stumbled back, propelled by that nose—and fell into the path of a passing car.
    There was the squeal of brakes, but it was too late. The car had struck her before the driver could react. It slewed to a stop, but Chloris was just a heap in the road.
    â€œShe jumped right in front of me!” the driver cried, wild-eyed.
    â€œNo!” I cried. “The dragon did it! The