over his skin. He placed his hands over the wound in the dragon's neck, the power thrumming through him erecting a barrier of protection between the dragon's blood and the wizard's flesh.
"I am Darkfest," he murmured, his voice like the roar of the wind. "Master of fire and land. Be healed now, dragon, by the power of my hand!"
He felt the power flow down his arms and out through his hands, felt it spread over the dragon's flesh, burning away the foul infection with the clarity of healing fire. When he stepped back, all trace of the wound was gone.
Darkfest pulled the cup from inside his shirt. "Will ye now fulfill your part of the bargain?"
"Aye. A single drop, no more."
Darkfest nodded.
Using one of his fearsome claws, the dragon made a small scratch in his chest. Lifting the cup, Darkfest caught a single drop of glittering bright red blood. It landed in the cup with a soft sizzle.
"My thanks, my lord dragon."
"And mine," Blackencrill replied. "I have carried that sword in my flesh for a decade and more."
Darkfest gestured at a nearby skeleton. "Perhaps ye should have asked one of these to remove it for ye instead of burning the meat from their bones."
"They came to rob and to plunder," the dragon replied scornfully.
With a flick of his mighty tail, he gained his feet and stretched his wings. Such wondrous wings, pale green and gold streaked with crimson. Seeming light as thistledown, the dragon rose in the air.
"Be gone before sunrise, wizard," he called, and with a stroke of his powerful wings, the dragon left the valley.
Darkfest stared after the creature. The dragon had promised he would do them no harm; still, though mystified by the warning, he took it to heart. They would be away from the valley before dawn.
Channa Leigh stood at the window, letting the evening breeze waft across her face, letting its warmth dry her hair. She had bathed and washed her hair. When she went to put on her dress, she was surprised to find her old dress gone and a new one in its place. Now, waiting for Darkfest to return, she wondered if the blood of the dragon could indeed restore her sight.
She sensed the wizard's presence even before he spoke her name. She turned toward the sound of his voice. "My lord?"
"I have conjured a potion made from the dragon's blood," he said, entering the room.
A shudder escaped her at the thought of partaking of another creature's life force. "Is it... does it taste... vile?"
"Nay, beloved. It tastes of peppermint and honey."
"How can that be?"
"A bit of wizardry," he replied, and she heard the smile in his voice. "A lovely potion for a lovely maid."
She flushed, pleased by his flattery.
He closed the distance between them and placed the crystal goblet in her hand. "I am Darkfest," he intoned. "Master of fire and light. Drink, Channa Leigh, and receive thy sight."
With hands that trembled, she lifted the goblet to her lips and drank. It did, indeed, taste of peppermint and honey.
Darkfest watched her carefully, his heart pounding with anticipation as she drank the last of the brew.
He took the cup from her hand and set it aside. "Channa Leigh?"
She followed the sound of his voice. "Perhaps it takes a bit of time for the magic to work."
"Nay. I must have mixed it wrong." He paced the floor, going over the spell in his mind, and then he shook his head. "No, I did everything that was to be done, as it was meant to be done."
"My lord..."
"Forgive me, Channa Leigh."
"There is nothing to forgive." But he heard the disappointment in her voice. It was like a knife slicing through his heart. He had given her hope, and now that hope was gone.
He paced the floor, muttering to himself, as night flung her cloak across the sky. Channa Leigh slept, her head pillowed on her arm, and still he paced until he felt the breath of the sun warm the land.
In an instant, he recalled the dragon's warning. Lifting Channa Leigh from the bed, he draped her over his shoulder and bolted out of the castle even as it began to dissolve.
Their horses waited outside. Grabbing the reins, he closed his eyes, a distant part of his mind wondering why Channa Leigh did not wake up.
In desperation, he summoned his power, uncertain of the danger that stalked them. And even as he felt it slither up his spine, he saw it take shape, moving