The Fallen Fortress - By R. A. Salvatore Page 0,32
faith."
The sharp intake of Fyren's breath drew Cadderly's cloak around him, nearly pulled him forward beyond the tine of magical dragonbane.
Cadderly knew what was coming and desperately fell back into the song, chanting at the top of his voice to reinforce his thinned fire shield. The breath came in a wicked blast, mightier than the last, if that was possible. Cadderly saw the thin green bubble diminish to nothingness, felt a blast of warmth and thought that he would sizzle where he stood.
But a blue globe replaced the green, again driving the fires harmlessly aside. Cadderly's entire body ached as though he had fallen asleep under a high summer sun; he had to stamp out small flames on the laces of his boots.
"I have come in good faith!" he cried loudly when the blast ended, old Fyren's eyes wider still with disbelief. "I need but a simple favor and then you may return to your slumber!"
Amazement turned to an unbridled rage beyond anything Cadderly would ever have believed possible. The dragon opened its mouth wide, rows of ten-inch fangs gleaming horribly, and then its head shot forward, neck snapping like a snake's coiled body.
Cadderly groaned and nearly fell over, for a moment sure that he was losing consciousness and soon his life.
But the young priest nearly laughed aloud, in spite of his terror, when he peeked out to regard Fyrentennimar, the dragon's face pressed and distorted weirdly against the fine of magical dragonbane. Cadderly could only think of the mischievous young boys at the Edificant Library, who would press their faces against the glass of the windows in the study chambers, startling the disciples within, then run off laughing down the solemn halls.
His unintentional lightheartedness actually aided the fortunate young priest, for the dragon backed away and looked all about, seeming unsure of itself for the first time.
"Thief!" Fyrentennimar bellowed, the power of the dragon voice blowing Cadderly back a step.
"No thief," Cadderly wisely assured the wyrm. "Just a humble priest..."
"Thief and liarr Fyrentennimar roared. "Humble priests do not survive the breath of Fyrentennimar the Great! What treasures have you taken?"
"I come not for treasure," Cadderly declared firmly. "Nor to disturb the slumbers of a most magnificent wyrm.'*
Fyrentennimar started to retort, but seemed to reconsider, as though Cadderly's "most magnificent" compliment had given him pause.
"A simple task, as I have said," Cadderly went on, going with the momentum. "Simple for Pvrentennimar the Great, but quite beyond the abilities of any other in all the land. If you will perform..."
"Perform?" the dragon roared, and Cadderly, his hahblown back by the sheer force of the dragon's hot breath, wondered if his hearing would be permanently damaged. "Fyrentennimar does not perform! I am not interested hi your simple task, foolish priest" The dragon surveyed the area right in front of Cadderly, as if trying to discern what barrier had been enacted to keep it at bay.
Cadderly considered the few options that seemed open to him. He felt that his best chance was to continue to flatter the beast He had read many tales of heroic adventurers successfully playing to the ego of dragons, particularly of red dragons, which were reputably the most vain of all dragonkind.
"Would that I might better see you!" he said dramatically. He snapped his fingers, as though a thought had just come to him, then whipped out his slender wand and uttered "Domin Ulu" Instantly the wide chamber was bathed in a magical light, and all of Fyrentennimar's magnificence was revealed to him. Silently congratulating himself, Cadderly replaced the wand under his cloak and continued his survey, noting for the first time the mound of treasure across the way, beyond the bulk of the blocking dragon.
"Would that you might better see me," Fyrentennimar began suspiciously, "or see my treasure, humble thief?"
Cadderly blinked at the words and at his possible mistake. The murderous expression on Fyrentennimar's face was not hard to decipher. Then Cadderly felt his light tube growing warm, uncomfortably so, and he had to drop it to the ground. His forearm brushed against his belt buckle, and he winced in pain as bare skin contacted the fast-heating metal. It took Cadderly just a moment to understand, a moment to remember that many dragons, too, could access the realm of magical energies.
Cadderly had to act fast, had to humble the wyrm and make old Fyren desire parley. He chanted immediately, pointedly ignoring the wisps of smoke rising from his leather belt near the buckle.