In Meryle's opinion, which had been born from the stories her brother used to tell her to put her to sleep as an 'elfling,' dragons only wanted to eat, breath fire, sleep, and eat more. They were smart, her brother had told her, but not smart like elves are. It was a sort of intelligence developed without a concept of community, religion, and social life.
She imagined that a dragon would be lax to chase after strange, flying food, but would that be because it knew it looked like a trap or because it wasn’t sure that Meryle and Klaus would be digested properly?
As she picked up speed, Meryle realized how much magic the night had cost her. All of her mana potions were back at the mansion (idiot, she thought) and the trials since they left had burnt out most of the mana she had stored in her body. The flight spell
alone was taking its toll on her frame, and she could feel an icy numbness sliding down her arms, pressuring her to release Klaus.
“No… way…†the elf grunted under her breath, “he may be fat but he’s one of my partners… in crime.â€
What crime, she thought, was she talking about? Maybe the crime of being stupid and unprepared was what she meant? That
had to be a crime.
The dragon, drawn both by Klaus’ free flowing body and Trigger’s zigzagging antics, trudged into the underground lake. It whipped waves onto the rocky shore with its huge tail. It growled, and steam escaped its lips.
Zakara stood in the middle of the lake, and as the dragon neared and towered over her, it failed to even glance at her. She stared straight ahead, into the dragon’s gut, almost comatose.
Meryle’s eyes exploded open, WIDE. “Oooh, Klaus, I just had the greatest idea for a plan! And not a stupid one, like the last and current ones! A good one! A great one! If we can get Zakara to use her electrical storm, she’ll fry that dragon! He’s knee-deep in water!â€
Edited by: Nick Shogun at: 11/28/04 6:00 am