Parasite Soul Read Free Page B

had never forged anything more
martial than a horseshoe. Simon had been left with no choice but to
develop his own feel for the weapon.
    “There is probably a flaw in the metal,” Simon’s father Veter had
suggested, frowning down at the illused weapon as he turned it over and over
in his lap. “Why else would it be discarded so unceremoniously? A
knight would retire it with honor, pass it on to his heirs, or at the very least
sell it.”
    “It’s not flawed,” Simon had countered defensively. While he
lacked the technical knowledge to make this assertion, gut instinct had told
him that the sword was still potent. The haft seemed to crackle with
power. Wielding it made him feel as though no force in Cannevish could
stand before him.
    “Then it’s a murder weapon, incriminating its owner and cast away in
flight,” the older man had returned, earning himself a patronizing sigh.
Sometimes the man’s cynicism was stifling.
    “Well, it’s mine now.” That he was the blade’s new owner had been of
the only importance to Simon at the time. No matter its current
condition, how many peasants could lay claim to ownership of a sword which had
almost certainly once belonged to a great man? Of course, had he stopped
to consider the reality of the sword’s decrepitude rather than allowing himself
to get swept away in flights of fantasy, he wouldn’t now be facing a colossal,
ferocious beast upon the scales of which this beat-up old artifact would almost
certainly break – if he ever even landed a blow.
    Let’s face it, Simon, he told himself as
he scrambled under the dragon’s snapping, slavering jaws, you aren’t going
home tonight. I suppose you thought you were clever, coming at night and
hoping the monster would be asleep. As if no knight had thought of that
before you! Looks like you won’t be winning the hand of a princess after
all. You, my friend, are going to end up as dragon dung .
    No one knew where this monstrosity had come from, but it had
certainly made itself at home in Cannevish. Upon its arrival, it had
immediately taken to scarfing back flocks of sheep. Swiftly graduating to
herds of cattle, which it seemed to enjoy stampeding, it inevitably began
sampling men and found them to its liking. Consequently, several small
villages had disappeared in fiery infernos, the dragon picking through the
burning rubble for well-cooked morsels. Discovering little resistance, it
grew bolder, gorging itself on ever larger communities. Soon, it had
become the terror of the entire nation.
    As he reflected upon its murderous capabilities, Simon began to
realize the enormity of his miscalculation. No single human could
possibly hope to topple this embarrassingly rotund but terrifyingly titanic
juggernaut. When there was room to stand nearly upright in a monster’s
gaping maw, no princess in the world was worth the hassle of trying to topple
it.
    The bull drake’s temper was fraying. It clearly found Simon,
who’d been dashing about the cave like a madman, deeply exasperating.
There was little room to maneuver its great bulk; its lashing tail chipped and
scored the cave walls. Every time it attempted to unfurl its vast
bat-like wings, a rain of stalactites provided it a painful reminder of just
how cramped its quarters were.
    For his part, Simon was having difficulty keeping an eye on his
surroundings as he desperately attempted to keep the dragon at bay. The
den was littered with human remains. Simon had stumbled over half a
knight earlier, which had nearly cost him his life. Shortly afterward,
he’d slipped on a slick patch which he’d determined, with horror, to be the
liquid remnants of a freshly dismembered peasant. The poor fellow had
undoubtedly entertained Simon’s own dreams of elevating himself above his station.
All in all, the cave was as treacherous, revolting, and depressing, and the
stench was incredible.
    Upon losing two crack troops of soldiers to the beast, King Minus
had formulated a strategy