The huge statue towered up with a rush of strength and fury and lunged for him. Wendell threw the dagger as hard as he could, as the giant jaws opened around him. It plunged between the open teeth, and Wendell was thrown backwards onto the ground as the mouth snapped shut with a grimace of agony.
The huge body thrashed and rolled around in a horrible way, the claws grasping for the buried blade. Golden treasures scattered like pebbles as the dragon roared and scratched with its powerful talons in a terrible dance of pain and despair.
Quickly Wendell rolled over, and found a large gold-encrusted broadsword.
Inside he heard terrible shrieks from the dragon’s voice, cursing him in a hundred languages at once. Dragging the massive sword behind, he saw the statue grow stiff for a moment, claws pawing at the air, although smoke still boiled out of the mouth. He aimed carefully between two red jewels where the heart might be. With a tremendous, horrible heave, he swung the heavy broadsword over his head, and pushing with all his meager weight now, the huge blade sliced through, sending it deep into the dragon’s body, which quivered horribly now and then lay still.
Exhausted with the effort, Wendell collapsed on the ground and tried to catch his breath.
There was a noise from something else. He staggered up quickly.
Violet came stumbling out from behind the piles of gold, looking shaken and amazed. She looked at the silent, sprawled corpse and then back at Wendell, as if she didn’t know what was going on, tears of terror still in her eyes.
“It wasn’t me,” Wendell said weakly. “I saw Ren Zael, and he told me, a lot of things,” he said, trying to explain.
Violet just kept looking at him as if he was some kind of ghastly being, still unable to say anything at all.