The Saint of Dragons

A Hidden Evil

THE shock of what they had just discovered had barely settled in when
Alaythia approached them.

"Is something wrong?" she asked Aldric.

"You look pale."

"I feel terrible we couldn't save more of your things," he answered.

"Oh, but you saved my life. Whatever caused this fire wasn't your fault. Things can always be replaced."

"Fair enough," said Aldric, barely listening, and he began moving
toward the door. Simon could see he was distracted, his mind on the
medallions in his pocket.

"Except my artwork," said Alaythia, looking around. "Can't replace that, of course, though I don't know who'll ever miss it."

"Well, we won't keep you from it," said Aldric, pulling Simon toward the door. "It's best you get right back to work."

"On what?" she asked.

"On rebuilding, something new," mumbled Aldric. "Maybe all of this
will be an inspiration."

"I thought you said you were going to help me pick things up," called
Alaythia.

"We did," murmured Aldric, going out the door. "We picked up all sorts of things."

And they were gone.

What they had picked up were artifacts that could change everything
they knew about the world of Dragons. As soon as they were on the
sidewalk, Aldric took the unknown medallion out of his pocket and
examined it again.

"You could've been a little nicer to her," said Simon.

"We don't have time for niceness," said his father, squinting at the
medallion. "I was in a hurry to get out of there. I don't even know what I
said."

Well, that's obvious, Simon wanted to say, but didn't. Have you ever spoken to a woman before? Because it didn't look like it. Aldric wouldn't have listened anyway. His fingers were tracing the shape of the Dragon on the medallion.

"Very good craftsmanship," he murmured.

The image of the Dragon caused terrible memories of the real thing to come flooding back to Simon. A whisper came out of him. "I can't do
this."

Slowly, Aldric brought his gaze to bear on the boy. "Can't?" There was an edge in Aldric's voice, and Simon didn't meet his eyes.

"I just...I don't know what I can do...," he said.

"Look," Aldric said quietly. "There is no running away. This thing is out here. And it will be coming for you. No one will understand, no one will believe us. I am the only one who can protect you, but if I should go down fighting, you will be the only one who knows their secrets."

"The only one left to stand against them. You have to learn their tricks, and how to fight so that it counts. We have this power. We must use it.
There's no choice in the matter. It is as God wills it."

He put the medallion in the boy's hand.

"We have to find him before he finds us." Aldric's voice left no doubt. Simon had taken on his profession.

"It's kind of, you know, sort of artistic," Simon said sadly, peering at
it more closely. There were many strange marks on the medallion.

"It sort of looks like her artwork."
Aldric was deep in thought.

"What?"

"The writing on the thing. It looks like her paintings, the ones up-"

"There you are," said a woman's voice.
Simon turned. Alaythia was following them, coming down the street with a confused look on her face.