Death had never felt the heat of dragon-fire the way that mortals and peasants did. Now that he was in their shoes, inches away from whipping flames, he understood why they always seemed so scared of a beast that he never used to pay attention to.

  The three dragons were large, green-tongued, all with bulbous eyes and long snouts. The chaos of battle had invited them to join the carnage and burn the city rather than swoop down and pluck a few unlucky travellers from the streets. They announced each beam of fire with a screech before releasing Hell upon those below.

  “Where are the guards?” a peasant yelled. “The Valan warriors? Where is Quinn, is he alive?”

  Death killed the peasant and took his strength, Vera and Snow always staying close to him. “Bumbling idiot,” Death muttered. “He thinks words will kill dragons.”

  “How are we going to kill the dragons?” Snow asked.

  Of course she doesn’t know, always so unobservant of others and the surroundings as we travel…

  “Did you not see what one of those merchants carted into the town when we were walking?” Death asked. “Think hard, your life may rely on this information.”

  “We don’t know!” Vera yelled. “Stop being so cryptic and tell us what you saw!”

  “Under a white sheet, occupying an entire cart, the sharp point of an arrowhead the size of my whole head—a custom made ballista, or a bow and arrow crafted for a giant, the former is more likely than the latter. We must find this cart, load the weapon, and take them down with it. This is the only way we survive.”

  “Oh, fuck,” Vera mumbled. “We will be vulnerable; we’ll have to recharge it twice!”

  “Snow will fire.”

  “I will?!” she squealed in horror. “I’m a terrible aim.”

  “You will need to learn fast, it cannot be done any other way, I would love to fire myself and drain the strength of a dragon, but I also need to be alive to reap the reward,” Death said. “Depending on the size and design, I will need to tighten the drawstring, Vera will need to load the heavy bolt, neither of which you can do—their attention will be on us the second we fire the first arrow, we must fire three, hit three, or we will all die from their flames.”

  “That’s a lot of responsibility to put on me!”

  It’s not like I like it either, Snow, but this is the situation we are in. I drained Quinn of his water and spit, by now the heat has sizzled the rainwater to vapour… he is as useless as a mortal, I wouldn’t want him to try and help us either, I do not trust my enemies and I hate the thought of working with my foes for mutual survival.

  “So how do we find the cart?” Vera yelled. “Those dragons will only have so much ground to light before we are boxed in!”

  “What if Quinn comes?” Snow squeaked.

  “Cum Master will not dare face me, he’s likely cowering away from the heat like a chicken-livered dastard.”

  “Looks like he’s trying to fight the dragon.” Vera pointed with a quiet snicker. Quinn was screaming, trying to summon a trident, unable to form it fully from his lack of resources. “If that wall of fire didn’t separate us, I would run and stab him in the throat.”

  For a few moments, Death watched the dragons above for any pattern or target. Hm… I can’t tell exactly what they’re doing with no view from above, their attacks or linear, one at a time, a cycle of one then the next, roughly ten seconds between each passing where they seem completely sure of the start and end of the wall they aim to create…what was it that old traveller said, picking up food to take to the mountains, feed their mother? They’ll be separating the masses to pick them off. To find where those merchants were, all we’ve gotta do is follow the flames.

  The three avoided begging souls all the way to where the lines of fire converged upon traders, peasants, and even cowering knights who were hiding beneath carts and snatching rations away from frightened children.

  “The bloody ‘ell do ye think yer doin’ to my child?” a mother yelled, striking a knight in the gob. “Yer supposes to be protectin’ this town wit’ your sword!”

  The knight ripped open her stomach, threatening any other that came close. He took a child hostage, a blade’s edge to their bobbing throat, opposing the quick mob that formed.

  “I’ll fucking do it!” he yelled. “I swear to the gods, I will slice this boy’s throat if you don’t get away from me!”

  “Dragon!” someone yelled. “Heads down!”

  The knight dropped the boy as a sharp claw swooped down and took him by the torso; the flap of the dragon’s wings knocked over some carts and threw dirt and dust into the eyes of the crowd.

  “Where is Quinn?!” someone else shouted. “He is in the town, did the dragons get him?”

  “Bloody dragons couldn’t have gotten Quinn, stay strong and keep faith in him!”

  What a bunch of hopeful fools, Death thought. Ah, I see the cart I need to get to… but it’s through the flames, surrounded by a hill of charred traders… the wheel is on fire, I must get to it before the ropes of the ballista snap and render it unusable.

  A trader put a hand on Death’s chest. “Laddie, where do you think yer goin’ to? Nothin’ but fire and death that way, ye’ll be lucky if your feet don’t melt off from getting’ this close.”

  Snow grabbed the man’s wrist and removed it. “Don’t you put a finger on him!” she screamed. “Do that again and I’ll kill you!” She slapped him across the face. “How do you like it when someone you don’t know puts a hand on you, huh? Doesn’t feel good?”

  Vera summoned her daggers after the man growled and raised his hand. “Was only trying to help,” he scoffed. “If you three want to run off and die, be my guest, I won’t help identify your corpses when the fire goes away.”

  “Don’t think there’ll be anything for us to identify you with,” Death retorted. “Rather plump belly, bet those winged lizards are looking to take you away.”

  The man heard the roar from one of the beasts and scurried away to the safety of a large crowd. “Asshole,” Snow mumbled. “Doesn’t he know that we are strong?”

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  “I am strong,” Death corrected. “You got knocked out by a rock while hiding. You’re both weak.”

  “You had to hop in a cell!” she yelled back. “Does having a few moments of silliness make us weak? Oh—oh my.”

  He picked Snow up and put her over his shoulder like she was a misbehaving pet, then leapt through the flames.

  If I trusted her to jump through herself, we would both die, he thought. Was best to do it when she was distracted.

  He patted down the spreading fire on the bottom of his cape. He released snow, who was blushing from how easily he lifted her up.

  Vera came next, groaning in slight pain and rubbing a pinkness on her leg that came from the fire. “Fuck,” she whispered. “Shit.”

  “That’s why you don’t make your own clothing solely from a few ribbons and magic,” said Death. “It’s only your legs, barely a scratch, do not be a wuss. Do you have the power to lift the arrows onto the ballista even while the cart is aflame, or are you useless?”

  “I’m not useless!” Vera squawked. “I’ll prove it!”

  “That doesn’t look safe,” Snow whispered.

  “The town is under siege by three dragons, Snow, I don’t think safety is a concern right now. Vera, put out the fire on the wheels, I will rip that covering off the ballista. Snow, rid the red on your cheek and concentrate, warm up your wrists, do not aim at the dragons, you must aim where they are going.”

  “How fast is the arrow?” Snow asked.

  Death’s response was only a shrug.

  “I’ll hit my target,” Snow told herself. He’ll be so impressed if I hit it, he will pick me up like a princess and smother me with so much love until I can’t take a breath! He’ll tell me I did good; I will do good! I will kill this dragon!

  Death tore off the cover; the ballista was intact. He tightened the bowstrings until he couldn’t, then stretched them further using the lever. Vera placed the bolt; Death locked it in place and guided Snow’s hand to the release trigger.

  “Why can’t you aim?” Vera asked.

  “I explained it to you, imbecile! The second she fires we must load another arrow with godly speed!”

  It was difficult to move the ballista, but Snow managed. “Gotcha dragon!” she shouted, releasing an arrow and missing it completely.

  Death stared into the clouds where the bolt had vanished, his jaw clenched shut in disappointment. A grumbly growl escaped him, furious at the wasted opportunity. “I said aim!” he barked. “You cannot just release it and pray!”

  All hope of killing all three is gone, I pray the other two shall flee if we manage to take just one down… but if not, then it is over.

  They recharged the ballista, their duties unfumbled even with the urgency. Snow’s fingers trembles as she steadied her breath, her heart pounding so loud everything else was drowned out. It was just her and the dragon, a bolt and a target, she chose the farthest beast and tracked it until it was on a straight flight.

  Aim where it’s going, not where it is, she remembered. This has to hit, I won’t miss; I can’t miss, Death is watching… it felt fast when I released it… here should do!

  The bolt hurtled through the air, the dragon’s eye perfectly lined with the tip. A flap of the wing dipped the head down; it skimmed past by mere inches, but now they had all its attention. The eyes of the monster locked on the ballista with a furious screech, plunging downwards with rage.

  Vera’s voice was filled with terror. “Oh fuck! We’re gonna die!”

  “Grab another bolt!” Death ordered. “Let me take the damned shot, you fool.”

  Snow felt faint, her hands still on the ballista’s trigger. Shadows of wings grew large in the sky, she gulped down her fear.

  “I command you to let me do it and stay silent!” she yelled.

  Gods, no, Snow, that was the worst possible command you could have given me. We’re dead, and it’s all your fault.

  He was trapped by the force of her words, his body tensing each time he tried to intervene. His mind screamed, but the command was seared into his soul, holding him like a stringed puppet.

  “You need to kill it now!” Vera yelled. “It’s flying towards us.”

  Snow’s vision blurred to just the beast, heat swirling within the dragon’s mighty maw as it ignited.

  She shrieked back defiantly. “You fucking dragon bastard! I’m not weak!”

  Her hand was steady, and so was her heart, she released the bolt with hope in her soul that her aim was true.

  And it was.

  The bolt tore through the dragon’s throat and ripped open the fire gland, spraying it’s face with crimson and flame. It erupted from the fresh gaping wounds and burst them open wider. It choked on blood, swallowing their wicked tongue, agonising wails carrying across the sky like the howl of a wolf. It flailed in the air, wings beating wildly, defeated.

  Snow couldn’t believe what she’d done… she cried out, half in triumph and half in disbelief. “I got it!” The body got closer. “Oh… I… I got it…”

  Death grabbed Snow and Vera, one in each arm, sprinting away from the cart and diving to the ground. The dragon’s body crashed down, obliterating buildings and the ballista. The ground shook like an earthquake for a second, a deafening shockwave silenced the nearby flames. For a moment, all they could hear was the heavy and fast pounding of the dragon’s heart booming, thump, thump, thump, the vibration felt through their boots. It gave one final, soft purr as it succumbed to the darkness and rested eternal.

  I hate dragons, Death thought. Always have.

  Snow kicked the end of the tail, stunned that just one of the dragon’s claws was the length of her whole body.

  “I… I did it!” Snow yelled. “I thought it was going to land on us and crush us into stains!”

  Death violently grabbed Snow’s chin and pointed at his own mouth. She kissed him, but he pushed her away firmly, growling as he pointed a second time. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I command you to be able to speak again! Sorry!”

  “You are stupid!” he screamed, grabbing her face again. “You are reckless, idiotic, and you could’ve gotten us all killed… but you didn’t, well done, Snow, never order me like that again.”

  The other dragons squealed in defeat and anger, retreating with their prey squeezed between their claws. The peasants screamed for help, but none could aid them, all that awaited them now was to be a meal for the dragon’s mother in the mountains.

  “We’re fuckin’ lucky,” Vera said. “If those two decided to come avenge the one we got, we’d have no chance against it.”

  It’s very odd, Death thought. Those travellers must know that a weapon like this is very capable of killing a dragon… is it something else they’re afraid or, or did they have such high faith in the Cum Master that they abandoned it? Perhaps this mother in the mountain is far more ferocious than I’m imagining, and they’d rather lose a couple of peasants than anger her, don’t know, don’t care.

  The children and the mothers had never seen a dragon up close, especially not a dead one. Cautiously, they creeped, tapping scales with long sticks until they started punching and kicking with cheers and screams of joy.

  At the Dragon’s head, Death saw Quinn boiling with rage as he stomped closer.

  Another round? Death thought. Fine then, as I always said, until one of us falls.

  Quinn was swarmed like bees to a lonely flower, praised by the children as a hero. Everyone chanted his name, even the nights, and the path to his enemy squeezed shut.

  “I saw it!” one yelled. “I saw his trident soaring like a bird and into his throat, look at the hole!”

  “Quinn saved us!” another yelled. “I heard those things out my home destroying other homes before they started burning! He saved us!”

  We will not fight here, Cum Master, Death thought. But worry not, the next we meet, which will be soon, I shall take your head.

  He had no choice but to accept the wrongful hailing of a hero, no choice but to let his enemy escape.