tree lashed the rearing dragon across the face, startling it. Caught off balance, the dragon dropped
back to all sixes again, lashing its long serpentine neck back and forth and belching a great gout of flame at its tormentor.
Merlin fell back, his shoulders aching with the strain of holding the tree, and once more the Great Dragon lurched toward
Nimue. But the moment’s struggle had been enough to allow Merlin to free his hands. Now he could fight.
Tears gathered in his eyes, and in that instant Merlinseemed to hear Mab’s mocking laughter ringing faintly in his ears. He had been a fool to think that Mab would confine her
attacks to him alone. Once again she had reached out to warp his life, bringing harm to those Merlin loved.
And it was all happening so fast. If there were more time, would he see another way out of the trap? Would he be willing to
sacrifice Nimue to his pride?
Never. That was Mab’s way.
Merlin did not hesitate again. In this moment he had discovered what the most important thing in his world was.
Nimue.
“Malence llanertal toderis Segninore!”
he shouted, weaving a spell out of hand and voice together.
The long-dormant waterfall that had so plagued Vortigern’s fortress burst from the cliff above. The water sparkled in the
sun as it sprayed down, dousing the dragon and turning the earth beneath its feet to mud. As the beast wallowed through the
mire, trying to reach firmer ground, Merlin gestured again, and a thousand green tendrils burst up out of the ground beneath
the dragon’s feet. The shoots swarmed over its haunches, dragging it back toward the ground.
Draco bugled its fury as it struggled, and the ground beneath its haunches began to open and subside, dragging the creature
deeper. The creature could have ripped any single one of the vines free, but not all of them—they covered its body like a
living net, tightening as they pulled the dragon into the earth.
Nimue—Nimue!
Merlin’s mind raced ahead of themoment. His loss—his self-betrayal—was too new for him to really feel it. All he knew in this moment was that he was sick
of the fight, of his own emptiness. He would take Nimue—together they could flee beyond the vengeance of Vortigern or Mab.
At least they could salvage their love from the ruins of this day.
But the Great Dragon had lived since before the dawn of man, and it would not go to its defeat quietly. As its body sank beneath
the surface of the earth it gathered its power for one last defiant act. It bellowed a great jet of flame directly toward
the wizard whose magic had destroyed it—and at Nimue, still chained to the stake just beyond.
Desperately, Merlin raised his shield of magic, his fingers working frantically. But the oath he had broken exacted its vengeance
now. Too many years had gone by since Merlin had practiced his wizard’s arts, and the power that should have come to him with
long years of discipline was not there. His shield buckled under the force of the blast of dragonflame, and Merlin fell to
his knees, stunned.
With a last mournful howl, the Great Dragon was gone. Dazed, Merlin staggered to his feet. Something was burning.
Nimue
.
Merlin ran toward the iron stake. Nimue sagged in her chains, the left side of her face, of her gown, charred, the exposed
skin crisp and bleeding.
At Merlin’s touch the iron chains whipped away, and Merlin could cradle her in his arms. The fine silk of her gown turned
to ash in his hands.
It had all been for nothing. His sacrifice, the lossof all he believed in. He had given up everything he was, and had still lost everything. Nimue was dying, and magic could
not save her.
And when she died, there would be nothing left in all the world that mattered to him. Mab’s plotting would have taken the
lives of the three women who had loved him.
There must be someone who would help them—some place where Nimue could be healed!
Avalon
. Nimue had been raised there, and
back to all sixes again, lashing its long serpentine neck back and forth and belching a great gout of flame at its tormentor.
Merlin fell back, his shoulders aching with the strain of holding the tree, and once more the Great Dragon lurched toward
Nimue. But the moment’s struggle had been enough to allow Merlin to free his hands. Now he could fight.
Tears gathered in his eyes, and in that instant Merlinseemed to hear Mab’s mocking laughter ringing faintly in his ears. He had been a fool to think that Mab would confine her
attacks to him alone. Once again she had reached out to warp his life, bringing harm to those Merlin loved.
And it was all happening so fast. If there were more time, would he see another way out of the trap? Would he be willing to
sacrifice Nimue to his pride?
Never. That was Mab’s way.
Merlin did not hesitate again. In this moment he had discovered what the most important thing in his world was.
Nimue.
“Malence llanertal toderis Segninore!”
he shouted, weaving a spell out of hand and voice together.
The long-dormant waterfall that had so plagued Vortigern’s fortress burst from the cliff above. The water sparkled in the
sun as it sprayed down, dousing the dragon and turning the earth beneath its feet to mud. As the beast wallowed through the
mire, trying to reach firmer ground, Merlin gestured again, and a thousand green tendrils burst up out of the ground beneath
the dragon’s feet. The shoots swarmed over its haunches, dragging it back toward the ground.
Draco bugled its fury as it struggled, and the ground beneath its haunches began to open and subside, dragging the creature
deeper. The creature could have ripped any single one of the vines free, but not all of them—they covered its body like a
living net, tightening as they pulled the dragon into the earth.
Nimue—Nimue!
Merlin’s mind raced ahead of themoment. His loss—his self-betrayal—was too new for him to really feel it. All he knew in this moment was that he was sick
of the fight, of his own emptiness. He would take Nimue—together they could flee beyond the vengeance of Vortigern or Mab.
At least they could salvage their love from the ruins of this day.
But the Great Dragon had lived since before the dawn of man, and it would not go to its defeat quietly. As its body sank beneath
the surface of the earth it gathered its power for one last defiant act. It bellowed a great jet of flame directly toward
the wizard whose magic had destroyed it—and at Nimue, still chained to the stake just beyond.
Desperately, Merlin raised his shield of magic, his fingers working frantically. But the oath he had broken exacted its vengeance
now. Too many years had gone by since Merlin had practiced his wizard’s arts, and the power that should have come to him with
long years of discipline was not there. His shield buckled under the force of the blast of dragonflame, and Merlin fell to
his knees, stunned.
With a last mournful howl, the Great Dragon was gone. Dazed, Merlin staggered to his feet. Something was burning.
Nimue
.
Merlin ran toward the iron stake. Nimue sagged in her chains, the left side of her face, of her gown, charred, the exposed
skin crisp and bleeding.
At Merlin’s touch the iron chains whipped away, and Merlin could cradle her in his arms. The fine silk of her gown turned
to ash in his hands.
It had all been for nothing. His sacrifice, the lossof all he believed in. He had given up everything he was, and had still lost everything. Nimue was dying, and magic could
not save her.
And when she died, there would be nothing left in all the world that mattered to him. Mab’s plotting would have taken the
lives of the three women who had loved him.
There must be someone who would help them—some place where Nimue could be healed!
Avalon
. Nimue had been raised there, and
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