The dragon roared, and launched a whole volley of fireballs towards Caveria. She shot up, but it looked like one of them hit her. The dragon rose after her, impossibly fast for something that large.

There was nothing I could do. I stared in disbelief, as the new dragon moved after her and sent out a constant stream of small fireballs after her. Harrying her. This one had to be older and more experienced. It had probably survived many dragon fights before, and didn’t rush.

Caveria was forced on the defensive, and also had to think a lot more about the sheer physical danger of the dragon. It looked like the first, like a flying lizard-dinosaur, but it moved like a snake through the air. The head was constantly in motion, snapping after her, it had huge, sharp claws that slashed at her whenever she was still, and it even used its wings to try to smack her into the ground. And it was so big...

The first one had been as large as a whale. This one was larger. I tried to find something to compare it to, but it wasn't until Caveria dodged its snapping jaws and zipped past its head, I realized what I was looking at.

The thing was as large as a double-deck jetliner. As an Airbus A380, in fact. I had once seen a video on the Internet where two guys in wing-suits had flown in formation beside an A380. They’d looked about the same size as Caveria did, beside that enormous head.

It didn’t take long for it to become obvious that Caveria was losing this. She was dodging and diving and rolling and bouncing off the crags and rocks, but the dragon and its fireballs were there just seconds later. And all I could do was stand there and clench my fists. There was no way I could do anything out there except get killed. It was almost too dangerous to watch, both from the fireballs shooting in every direction, but also from the dragon’s tail that kept slamming into and sweeping over the ground.

Soon, Caveria was getting visibly tired. She was fighting back feebly, with only sporadic fireballs, and was dodging much more clumsily. The dragon seemed to be pushing her back towards the mountain, trapping her. It would kill her, and soon.

I had to do something, even if it would only mean getting myself killed. But I couldn’t just watch. I couldn’t. And the damned dragon had cheated. There was no rule five. I was sure of it. The lying trickster lizard had just made it up.

There was nothing I could do, yet I had to do something. I drew my sword and ran out onto the battlefield. In that moment, I felt sure I would be dead within minutes, but I still had to do it. Do something.

“Hey!” I shouted. “Hey, dragon!” It ignored me. “Hey, you big ugly lizard!” I shouted and waved my sword. No reaction. It didn’t even sweep its tail across the ground at me. It was focused on Caveria, pounding her with a steady stream of small fireballs, and pushing her backwards, closer and closer to the mountain. Even from down here, I could see how strained she was.

Damn it! I racked my brain, trying to think of something to do. I couldn’t get up onto the dragon’s back - it was thirty meters up, and besides, those great flapping wings meant it would be suicide to try to get close. It was hard enough to stand upright beneath it, with the downdraft pulling me to and fro in different directions. I could hardly throw rocks at it. What could I do? It just ignored me.

Think! I ordered myself. Think of something! You can’t let it kill her! But it wouldn’t listen to me.

Maybe... it would listen to someone else? The thought came out of nowhere as I stared up at the fight. Maybe it would listen to the one who had brought me here. The dragons were supposed to be servants of the gods, weren’t they?

“Hey dragon!” I shouted. “In the name of the Moon Goddess! Stop! Stop killing her! You’re cheating! In the name of...” I suddenly remembered what Tiriel had told me, one day very long ago, or so it seemed. The Moon Goddess’ name, in Elvish.

“In the name of, of melelala,” I shouted, and suddenly, the chant Tiriel had taught me came back. I shouted it at the top of my lungs. “Melelalala-niminalala-melelalala-malinanana!” It sounded like a children’s rhyme, but as it echoed among the rocks the dragon suddenly stopped firing and hung still in the air.

“Melelalala-niminalala-melelalala-malinanana!” I shouted again. “In the name of the Moon Goddess, stop! In the name of melelalala-niminalala-melelalala-malinanana! Stop the fight! I command you!”

The dragon had stopped firing, but Caveria was firing at it, weakly, when it flapped its wings hard and rose, and turned. I just had time to see one vast wing rise, almost all the way into the clouds, and then snap - the tip flicked down casually, and hit Caveria hard. She plummeted out of the air and crashed onto the rocky ground with a sickening thump.

I didn’t have time to run over and check on her. I had other things to think about. Slowly, ponderously, the dragon landed on the ground before me, and looked at me with two enormous yellow eyes.

“In the name of the Moon Goddess, little human?” it said. “In the name of the Pale Lady? Who are you to use her name, and to command a dragon? To command - me?” It turned its head and I pressed back against the rock as the huge eye came close.

“I - I am her servant,” I stammered. My whole body was shaking. “She has brought me here to, to complete a task. And she won’t like it that you’re cheating!”

The dragon made the same deep, rumbling sound that the other one had done. Up close, I felt it in my belly, a deep, low thrum. The thing was so big. And so close, and it had very, very large and very, very sharp teeth.

“Cheating,” it said. “Do you know the twelve rules of dragon battle? Neither did your friend, it seemed.”

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“You killed her!” I screamed, suddenly furious. “She went up against the other dragon, and when it was about to lose you took over and you killed her!”

“She used the ancient call,” the dragon said. “She called us here, and challenged us to the death.”

“She didn’t challenge you,” I said, but the dragon interrupted me.

“She challenged a dragon,” it said, “and she fought a dragon. She wished to fight, to the death.”

I almost screamed in frustration. The dragon was marking words, but it was right, too. In a way. In a sneaky, half-lying kind of way. But if it hadn’t chased away the first dragon, Caveria might well still be alive, and the first dragon would be lying dead on the ground. Damn it! Damn the dragon, and damn Caveria! Now she was dead, along with our only chance to find the Dragonblade.

“Yes,” I said. “She did, and that was stupid of her. But it still doesn’t make it okay to cheat!” I needed to bring this back to the Moon Goddess, somehow. I didn’t know how long the dragon would be amused by talking to me.

“Ah?” it said instead. “Is she not your friend, then?”

“What? Yes, she is.” Was.

“And yet you think her stupid.”

“Friends don’t always agree with each other,” I said, irritated. I was not going to argue friendship or Caveria’s intelligence with an oversized lizard.

The dragon’s tongue shot out of its mouth and wrapped itself around me, trapping me. I couldn’t move, or breathe, but it uncoiled and drew back a moment later, leaving a slimy layer of dragon saliva.

“Be careful, little human,” it hissed. “I have very good hearing. Don’t mutter to yourself when dealing with dragons.” It raised its head, pushing itself off the ground to tower above me. “I am not a lizard,” it said and made the low rumbling sound. “I am a dragon. I am the oldest, the wisest and the greatest. Do you know how old I am?” It dropped back on the ground. The earth shook and I had to grab the rock to avoid falling.

“No,” I said.

“I have seen more than ten thousand of your years. I have seen many human follies, and been challenged to the death by many, many humans. None have won, so far. Not even the Dragonbane, although she would have been a worthy opponent if she hadn’t been tired from the first fight.”

Yes, I thought. It’s admitting it’s cheating.

“Tell me, Peter Smith the engineer, if you thought the Dragonbane was foolish to fight a dragon, why did you help her? Are you foolish too?”

It knows who I am? And who she is? I stared up at it, suddenly confused.

“Answer.” The dragon’s head moved in close and it opened its mouth. Those teeth were as long as I was tall.

“Because... it was the only way we could stop the war,” I said, and managed to keep from whimpering.

“Yes, the war,” the dragon said, and made a disapproving sound. “I have seen many, many human wars, too. But the war isn’t with the dragons, is it?”

You know it isn’t, I thought. I didn’t understand what the dragon was playing at.

“No,” I said. “It’s between the humans and, well among the humans, and with everyone else.”

The dragon made its rumbling sound again.

“That sounds rather foolish as well,” it said. It was looking at me with an... amused expression?

“Yes,” I said uncertainly, “it is. That’s why we want to stop the war.”

“Do you?” it said, and looked right at me with those too-big eyes.

“Yes,” I said, my voice steadier than I’d expected. “I do. I was sent here by the Moon Goddess to do it, and I will do it.”

“Ha!” the dragon said, and rumbled again. It was laughing, I realized. It was laughing at me!

“The Moon Goddess,” it went on. “She, who is Mistress of Life and of Death, the Keeper of Beauty and of Suffering. You claim to serve her, and command me in your name. What would you have me do?”

I stared at it. Was it really...?

“Help me find the Dragonblade,” I croaked. “If other humans find it first, they will destroy the world.”

“Ha,” the dragon said. “Melodramatic, as all humans.” It looked at me for a long moment. “I could kill you,” it said. “It would be my right. I could kill the Dragonbane, as she challenged me to the death, and then I could eat you, as you did not bring any other gift.”

I almost talked back to it, to point out that Caveria hadn’t challenged it to anything, but I was too diverted by that word could. She wasn’t dead yet? She had to be, but yet...

“Spare her,” I said without thinking. “Spare her. Let her live.”

“Let her live?” the dragon said. “Did you not call the Dragonbane your friend? Did you not know how ardently she wished to be the only mage who ever killed two dragons? Do you wish her to live with the knowledge that she... failed? Do you wish her to suffer that?”

I stared at the dragon. Of course I wanted her to live. Even though she failed. Then I thought it through some more. The dragon was right, I thought. Caveria had seemed fixated on this dragon-hunt to the point of obsession. What would it mean if she woke up and knew she’d been beaten? What would she feel like? What would she think of her life? Of herself? Of – me?

And yet, I could not let her die. Even if the alternative was to live with a crushing defeat. I took a deep breath.

“Yes,” I told the dragon. “I wish her to live. I wish her to leave, even with the knowledge that she failed. I wish her to live, instead of dying. Spare her!” I suddenly shouted, as wild hope seized me. The dragon seemed to suggest it could save her.

“Spare her! Let her live in the knowledge that she failed. Let her live and - and suffer.” Poor Caveria. She would probably hate me for it, for dooming her to being the Dragon-beaten. The only person who was beaten by a dragon, and survived, if I’d understood it. But if I could save her... I just couldn’t let her die.

“Little human,” the dragon said. “Perhaps you are a servant of the Pale Lady. That would be a gift worthy of her. A gift of Life, in Suffering.” It rumbled, deeper and longer than before.

“If I am to spare her, I require something in return.” The dragon opened its mouth towards me, but closed it. “The Pale Lady demands a sacrifice, for such a gift.” The head moved close, and one huge eye fixed on me. “Will you offer your life to the Pale Lady, so your friend may live, and suffer?”

I stared at the yellow, unblinking eye, transfixed. It was right, I thought irrelevantly. This sure is no lizard.

“Yes,” I said, my voice shaking. “Yes,” I said again, more firmly. “I offer my life, so my friend may live.” Please live, Caveria. Please live, and... don’t hate yourself. Or me.

“Very good,” the dragon said. “Then climb, up on that rock. Climb to the top, and wait for me. Do not try to hide, or run. Wait on the rock, or I will burn you alive, slowly. Uselessly, along with the Dragonbane. Wait on the rock, and I will give your life to the Pale Lady. She will take it in her hands, so you may live and suffer too. Live your life and suffer, in the name of melelalala-niminalala-melelalala-malinanana.” The Elvish name in the dragon’s mouth was oddly beautiful.

I nodded, unable to speak. The dragon backed away and turned around, away from me. Then it bent down, and in one quick motion its tongue flicked out, wrapped itself around Caveria’s motionless body, and pulled her into the dragon’s mouth.

“Hey!” I shouted. “You promised to let her live!”

The dragon rumble-laughed, loud enough that I felt it through the ground. Then it reared up, and with two powerful beats of its wings it leapt into the air, straight up into the dark clouds swirling around the mountain peak, and disappeared.

“You promised,” I whispered, but it was too late. The dragon was gone. Caveria was gone.