The Runaway Princess by Kate Coombs Page A

chicken!” Meg challenged.
    â€œNo. I just think we should let it kill that fathead Vantor, and then decide what to do!”
    â€œWhat if that fathead kills it first?”
    Cam didn’t seem too concerned.
    â€œAnd takes the treasure?”
    Cam shrugged.
    â€œI’m going in whether you come or not,” Meg announced.
    â€œThey like princesses!” Cam exclaimed. “Flame-broiled!”
    She looked at him narrowly. “Fine. I’ll let you go first.”
    â€œMeg …”
    But the princess had scrambled up and was clambering over the rocks to the cave’s mouth. Cam had no
choice. “As usual,” he muttered, following her into the darkness. He coughed again as another twirl of dragon smoke wafted up his nose.
    â€œCome on ,” Meg said, lowering her voice.
    Cam stepped past her. A rock caught his shoulder. He moved away from the cave wall with a grunt. “Take my hand,” he said. Meg didn’t argue for once, just reached out to grab his hand with hers. They stepped forward, bumping along through the darkening tunnel. Gravel slid beneath their feet. Cam slipped once, but Meg pulled him up.
    After a while they came to a fork. They touched the walls, stumbling back and forth. “This way,” Cam said finally.
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œIt smells of smoke.”
    The two walked down the new tunnel. Meg could feel her heart beating faster, and Cam had forgotten all about the prince behind them. They had to choose their way at two more points. In one place, the cave branched in three different directions. And then suddenly they emerged into the dragon’s chamber.
    Cam and Meg stopped. The high hall of the dragon was lit an eerie red-gold. They stared about, startled enough to be easy prey for a moment. The room was filled with treasure, centuries’ worth of collecting by an oversize pack rat with very good taste. Golden chalices and goblets and coins, emeralds and rubies and pearls, several suits of armor with—Meg gulped—
fragments of bone sticking out of them. Half a skull grinned crookedly atop an inlaid chest. A swirl of satin looked uncomfortably like one of the dresses tossed on Meg’s bedroom floor.
    â€œWhere’s the dragon?” Cam breathed an inch from Meg’s ear.
    Meg peered higher and deeper into the cavern. Stones were piled around the edges, and … “Over there,” she murmured, pointing. “Those aren’t stones.” In the farthest shadows, like a jumble of great swords and spears made of silver and pearl, lay the vast skeleton of a dragon. A tatter of wing silk like another lady’s gown hung down from one long, arching bone.
    â€œIt’s dead,” Cam said, his voice ringing out with his surprise.
    â€œShh. Yes, but if it’s dead, where is the smoke coming from?”
    Cam turned around. “And the light, for that matter.”
    â€œLook,” Meg said, pointing again. Beyond the highest pile of treasure, the red glow was stronger.
    They tried to close in quietly, but their feet clinked and clanked, stepping over and around the dragon’s gold.
    Something hissed like a large teakettle. Meg stopped as the glow was dimmed by a new gust of smoke. She moved forward, more slowly now. She gestured to Cam. He nodded and worked his way around the side of the pile of jewels and coins and armor as she began to scale the miniature golden mountain.

    Meg lifted her eyes over the top. An instant later, Cam appeared below Meg, to her right. The dragon squawked.
    â€œIt’s a baby,” Meg cooed.
    The dragon was just smaller than one of her father’s wolfhounds. Its wings and throat were butter-colored, its back was scarlet streaked with amber, its staring eyes were round and black, with gold slits. It glowed like a hearth fire at midwinter.
    â€œStay back,” Cam said. “Just because it’s young doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous.”
    The