The Dragon of Avalon by T. A. Barron Read Free Book Online Page B

Even Basil, on the branch below, lifted his head so he wouldn't miss whatever she was about to reveal.
    "Merlin has a mate! I know, I saw them together, just before he left. A woman with big doe eyes. Ca-ca-caawww! Named Hallia. I promise you, he's comin' back to her."
    "Why?" croaked a skeptical companion. "Does she owe him money?"
    "No, beetle brow!" The female crow's voice softened to a rough whisper. "He's in love."
    "Merlin? In love? Caawww, no chance!"
    "Caawww, I thought he was smarter 'n that."
    "Just goes to prove that even a wizard can be stupid."
    With that, the crows started laughing, so rancorously that their voices blended into one big cacophony. Now it was impossible to hear more than snatches of words here and there. But Basil didn't mind. He had heard enough to be enthralled.
    How could he have lived for years in this forest realm—and know so little about its creatures, its magic, and its stories? And what about those other realms the crows had mentioned? Where exactly were they, and what mysteries did they hold? Would he ever get to see them, even if he couldn't fly? And if he could someday fly—a wish so ardent he could barely think about it—just where would he go? Would he hear more tales about Merlin? Was the wizard really going to return to Avalon?
    All these questions and more surged through his mind like a spring flood, He listened some more to the crows overhead. They had finally gone back to gossiping. He promised to come back to this spot, as often as possible, in case they ever returned. And, in addition, he promised to find more places where he could witness more of his world—preferably without getting eaten.
    "It's worth the risk," he whispered beneath his veil of hemlock boughs. "After all, this is my world, too! An amazing world. I want to know it better."
    A sudden surge of doubt flowed over him. Was it really his world if he didn't know where he fit in it? Why, he couldn't even say what kind of creature he was! Let alone what might make him special.
    He growled, making his slender throat vibrate and his ears tremble. "It is my world," he resolutely declared. "It belongs to me, just as much as it belongs to the crows. The puma. Or even the wizard."
    Casting aside his doubts, he thought about his new awareness—and his new appreciation for gossip. The forest began to darken, until the golden light of starset filtered through the groves, stretching luminous beams between sky and soil. Though he knew he should find somewhere more protected, he vowed to stay right here on this branch and experience the new sounds and smells of night.
    A bat flew just above him; the jagged wings came close enough to make the hemlock needles over Basil's nose quiver. But he didn't notice. He had fallen into a wary, uneasy slumber.

7: D AGGERS
    Who was it who warned, be careful what you wish for? Whoever they were, I'd like to crush them under a mountain of boulders. Tear out all their innards. Roast them over searing hot flames. And then . . . I'd tell them they were right.
    High in the branches of the hemlock tree, Basil slept fitfully. Whether from the unsettling experiences of the day, the discomfort of his useless wings, or the overriding fact that he lay high above the ground—exposed to nighttime attackers, unseen terrors, or sudden storms that could knock him to the ground at any moment—he barely slept at all.
    Dozing under the gauzy blanket of needles, he rolled and kicked and moaned. And throughout all this, he dreamed. Yet the images seemed too vivid, and the pain felt too real, to be just a dream.
    He lay on his back, on a bed of hemlock needles. But the needles weren't lying flat, as they do on a forest floor. No, these needles stood straight up, like daggers, jabbing into the scales of his back. Hard as he tried to flip over, he couldn't budge. All he could do was writhe painfully on the blades.
    "Stop!" he cried into the darkness that shrouded him. "Set me free!"
    No one heard him. No one