Temple of the Dragonslayer by Tim Waggoner

the road and dove into the tall grass.
    Catriona grabbed Sindri’s hand and hauled him off the road while the kender stared up at Slean with a grin of delight. Davyn took Nearra’s upper arm and the two of them followed after the others. The grass was two feet tall at the most, and they quickly discovered it provided minimal cover.
    “Everyone curl up into a ball,” Davyn said, “and make yourselves as small as you can. With any luck, the color of our clothes and packs will help camouflage us.”
    Most of the party was dressed in browns and greens, but Sindri wore his purple mage’s cape, and Nearra had on her bright turquoise dress. Catriona had tried to talk her into putting on a tunic and leggings before they left town, but Nearra declined. The dress was the only link she had to whatever life she’d lived before losing her memory. To her, that was reason enough to keep it. Now, however, she wished she had listened to Catriona: the color of her dress stood out too much against the green of the grass.
    Even though all Nearra could see was grass and soil, she closed her eyes tight. She could sense Davyn curled up beside her, and she was grateful for his presence. She felt an urge to reach over and take his hand for further comfort, but she was not only afraid of how Davyn might react to this, she didn’t want to move and risk attracting Slean’s attention.
    Go away, she thought. Please go away and leave us alone!
    Several moments passed, and Nearra began to hope that Slean hadn’t spotted them and had flown away. But then Nearra was gripped by a sudden intense fear. It was all she could do to keep from leaping up, screaming in terror, and running back toward town. She understood what was happening to her. After all, she had experienced the same feeling yesterday.
    Nearra knew that the fear she was feeling meant that Slean was coming closer, perhaps even preparing to attack, but she also knew that if they had any hope of surviving, they wouldhave to resist the dragonfear. Although all she wanted to do was lie curled up in a ball and shiver, Nearra forced herself to open her eyes and turn her head to look at Davyn. His jaw was clenched tight, and there was a determined look on his face as he struggled to fight the dragonfear, too.
    “We need to do something,” Nearra whispered.
    “I know,” Davyn replied through gritted teeth. “But what can we do against a dragon? If only Maddoc were here—”
    It was Slean herself who offered a suggestion.
    “Give me the girl and the rest of you can go free!”

 
    D avyn was the first to stand. “You can’t have Nearra!” he yelled. The sound of his words seemed to blunt the dragonfear—or perhaps it distracted Slean so that she wasn’t able to generate as much fear in them. Whichever the case, Nearra was able to move again, and she stood, as did the others.
    Catriona drew her short sword and looked up at Slean’s scaled underbelly, searching for a vulnerable place to attack. Unfortunately, it didn’t look to Nearra as if the dragon had one. Maddoc had said that Slean was a young dragon, but even so, she looked more than capable of killing them all.
    Davyn dropped his pack and began to string his bow. Neither Catriona’s sword nor Davyn’s arrows would be much use against a creature as powerful as Slean.
    Then Nearra remembered her dagger. Catriona had insisted she visit a weaponsmith and buy a dagger just like the one the warrior carried in her own traveling pack. At the time, Nearra had felt it would be useless to her, since she could not recall ever having learned how to use a dagger.
    A dagger would be even less effective against a dragon than a sword or a bow, but it was Nearra’s only weapon, so she slid off her pack and quickly removed it. It was foolish, but she feltsafer with the knife in her hand.
    Nearra had no idea why Slean wanted her specifically—if only she could remember! She knew that she should step forward so the others would be safe. She