The Dragons Revenge (Tales from the New Earth #2) by J.J. Thompson Page B
Authors: J.J. Thompson
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into him as he walked outside. He pulled the door closed
behind him and stood on the front steps in a foot of snow.
The wind hadn't let up and
the snow was blinding. He didn't even consider looking for the dragon
that had fallen far off to the west. He was sure to get lost in the
storm and would probably end up freezing to death. Not really a
fitting end for a great wizard.
Yeah right, he thought
wryly.
No, today he'd search
along the wall where the second dragon had crashed. Kronk and his
earthen friends had rebuilt the damaged section but Simon knew
approximately where it was. He hoped.
The snow inside the wall
was knee-deep and Simon determinedly forced one foot forward while
tugging out the other. When he reached the new section, the snow was
up to his waist. He leaned against the wall for a minute to catch his
breath and looked around for any sign of remains.
The dragon had, of course,
burned to ash, but Clara claimed that the heart remained and Simon
assumed that other bits might have survived as well. But the snow was
pristine and smooth from the whipping winds and he saw nothing.
With a heavy sigh, Simon
picked a spot and started shoveling. The problem was that he didn't
know which side of the wall the heart had landed on. He could be
digging for no reason at all, But there was no way to tell without
looking, so dig he must.
The tips of his finger
went numb inside his gloves, as did his nose. At the same time, he
started sweating as he flung heavy shovelfuls of snow over his
shoulder.
Simon's movements became
mechanical as he dug deeper through the snow. His mind was blank and
he gritted his teeth as he hefted each load of snow and flung it as
far as he could downwind.
Finally, the shovel
clanged against the frozen earth. He gasped and shook his head in
confusion. He'd lost track of the time and hadn't realized just how
deep his hole was.
He stuck the shovel in the
snowbank behind him, got down on his knees and started pushing at the
loose snow along the sides of the hole.
“ Come on,”
Simon muttered. “Give me something. A scale. Some blood.
Anything!”
He pushed and dug and felt
around but finally sat back on his heels with a sigh of resignation.
“ I think I'm digging
in the wrong place,” he said to the snowy world around him.
The daylight was fading
quickly into the early night of winter and Simon knew that he'd have
to wait until tomorrow to try again; on the other side of the wall.
He stood up painfully,
wincing at his sore back, grabbed the shovel and turned toward the
tower. He took one step, dragging his numb feet along the ground and
then tripped and landed face-first in the snow.
He was engulfed and had to
fight his way to his feet, looking like an animated snowman and
cursing loudly.
“ What the hell?”
he said savagely.
He had tripped on
something. Simon kicked through the snow, assuming that it was just a
frozen tree-root and saw a flash of red in the dying light.
His breath caught in his
throat and he knelt down again, pain forgotten, and brushed the snow
off of the object. Then he sat back and stared in wonder.
It was a crystalline
ovoid, about a foot in diameter. Spikes of red crystal shot out in
all directions from a central core, but it was almost round in shape.
There was a muted, almost undetectable pulse of light flickering up
from the core and along the spikes.
“ A heartbeat,”
Simon said, almost in awe. Obviously, this was a dragon's heart.
“ Even dead, the
heart keeps beating. My God.”
He reached down and picked
up the ovoid carefully. The spikes were as sharp as razors and he was
glad that he was wearing thick gloves. The heart was heavier than it
looked and he grunted with effort as he tucked it under an arm so
that he could pick up his shovel.
Back inside, Simon set the
heart on his kitchen table and then hurried to add logs to the fire
before the embers died.
Even though it was cold in
the main room, he was still so overheated from all of the
behind him and stood on the front steps in a foot of snow.
The wind hadn't let up and
the snow was blinding. He didn't even consider looking for the dragon
that had fallen far off to the west. He was sure to get lost in the
storm and would probably end up freezing to death. Not really a
fitting end for a great wizard.
Yeah right, he thought
wryly.
No, today he'd search
along the wall where the second dragon had crashed. Kronk and his
earthen friends had rebuilt the damaged section but Simon knew
approximately where it was. He hoped.
The snow inside the wall
was knee-deep and Simon determinedly forced one foot forward while
tugging out the other. When he reached the new section, the snow was
up to his waist. He leaned against the wall for a minute to catch his
breath and looked around for any sign of remains.
The dragon had, of course,
burned to ash, but Clara claimed that the heart remained and Simon
assumed that other bits might have survived as well. But the snow was
pristine and smooth from the whipping winds and he saw nothing.
With a heavy sigh, Simon
picked a spot and started shoveling. The problem was that he didn't
know which side of the wall the heart had landed on. He could be
digging for no reason at all, But there was no way to tell without
looking, so dig he must.
The tips of his finger
went numb inside his gloves, as did his nose. At the same time, he
started sweating as he flung heavy shovelfuls of snow over his
shoulder.
Simon's movements became
mechanical as he dug deeper through the snow. His mind was blank and
he gritted his teeth as he hefted each load of snow and flung it as
far as he could downwind.
Finally, the shovel
clanged against the frozen earth. He gasped and shook his head in
confusion. He'd lost track of the time and hadn't realized just how
deep his hole was.
He stuck the shovel in the
snowbank behind him, got down on his knees and started pushing at the
loose snow along the sides of the hole.
“ Come on,”
Simon muttered. “Give me something. A scale. Some blood.
Anything!”
He pushed and dug and felt
around but finally sat back on his heels with a sigh of resignation.
“ I think I'm digging
in the wrong place,” he said to the snowy world around him.
The daylight was fading
quickly into the early night of winter and Simon knew that he'd have
to wait until tomorrow to try again; on the other side of the wall.
He stood up painfully,
wincing at his sore back, grabbed the shovel and turned toward the
tower. He took one step, dragging his numb feet along the ground and
then tripped and landed face-first in the snow.
He was engulfed and had to
fight his way to his feet, looking like an animated snowman and
cursing loudly.
“ What the hell?”
he said savagely.
He had tripped on
something. Simon kicked through the snow, assuming that it was just a
frozen tree-root and saw a flash of red in the dying light.
His breath caught in his
throat and he knelt down again, pain forgotten, and brushed the snow
off of the object. Then he sat back and stared in wonder.
It was a crystalline
ovoid, about a foot in diameter. Spikes of red crystal shot out in
all directions from a central core, but it was almost round in shape.
There was a muted, almost undetectable pulse of light flickering up
from the core and along the spikes.
“ A heartbeat,”
Simon said, almost in awe. Obviously, this was a dragon's heart.
“ Even dead, the
heart keeps beating. My God.”
He reached down and picked
up the ovoid carefully. The spikes were as sharp as razors and he was
glad that he was wearing thick gloves. The heart was heavier than it
looked and he grunted with effort as he tucked it under an arm so
that he could pick up his shovel.
Back inside, Simon set the
heart on his kitchen table and then hurried to add logs to the fire
before the embers died.
Even though it was cold in
the main room, he was still so overheated from all of the
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