Free Tears of a Dragon by Bryan Davis

squinting at him. “How do I know you’re not possessed by a Watcher again?”
    “A What-cher?”
    Billy waved toward the valley. “When you were hunting down there, did you see a bright, angel-like creature just before the storm hit?”
    “Shore did. I thought it was a ET of some kine. Nearly spooked the bones right outta me. But I don’t ’member nuthin’ after that,”—he nodded toward a clump of trees—“until I found myself layin’ in the mud over thar.”
    Billy felt no danger, but he raised his pendant and cast its light on Arlo’s face. No change.
    Arlo smiled a gap-toothed grin. “Is that a ruby?”
    Billy tucked the pendant under his shirt. “Close. A rubellite.” He reached down to help Walter up. “C’mon, lazybones, let’s see if you can walk. I couldn’t get anyone on the phone, so we have to get going.”
    Walter grasped Billy’s wrist, pain contorting his face. His grip slid away, and he clutched his chest. “Something’s wrong,” Walter said, his eyes barely visible through his grimace. “I can’t move my legs, and my heart’s doing jumping jacks.”
    Billy dropped to his knees. “Okay! Just relax! We’ll think of something.” He looked up at Arlo and shouted louder than he intended. “Any ideas?”
    Arlo squatted at Walter’s side. “That heart jumpin’ happened to me when lightnin’ struck me right in the noggin. Purt near killed me and addled my brain. I was nuttier ’n squirrel scat for a week.” He grabbed Walter’s wrists and pulled. “Help me hoist ’im over my shoulder. The sooner we get some help, the better.”
    Billy helped raise Walter to his feet. “Hear that, Walter? We’re going to get you to a doctor.”
    No answer. Walter’s eyes had closed, and his limbs hung loose. Billy gulped through a tightening throat, steadying his best friend’s body while Arlo pushed his shoulder under Walter’s waist.
    The old hillbilly lifted Walter as easily as he would a burlap bag of peanuts. “You ready to go?”
    “I’ll catch up with you.” Billy glanced around frantically, shivering hard. “I just have to find my sword.”
    “Suits me.” Arlo set out across the mud-slicked hill, Hambone sniffing the trail ahead of him.
    Billy hustled toward the cave, his eyes darting back and forth. Excalibur had to be around somewhere. As his own heart raced, Billy thought about Walter and his collision with the force field. Bonnie had done the same thing back in the circles, and her heart went kind of crazy. Then she died.
    Billy swiped dripping water from his eyes with the back of his hand. He had to find the sword, and fast. He dashed into the cave and saw a glimmer at the base of their refuge ledge. Ah! There it was! He snatched it up and thrust it into his back scabbard, taking off at a trot. Fortunately, with such a heavy burden, Arlo was only a hundred yards or so down the slope.
    Billy shielded his face while searching the skies. The gray canopy seemed forbidding, almost unearthly. Even the raindrops felt funny, tickling his cheeks, as though his inner danger sensation had crawled out onto his skin. Maybe it was like acid rain, just enough impurities in the water to produce a miniscule chemical reaction.
    A streak of light flashed overhead and vanished. What could that have been? A weird kind of lightning? He lowered his head and picked up his pace. It was time to really get moving!
    Hurricane-like winds seized Bonnie’s wings and threw her body against the rear fuselage. Her head banged against the tail section. Sharp pain jolted her spine, and Edmund nearly slipped through her arms. Darkness flooded her eyes as she plummeted through the whipping storm. Fighting gale and gravity and battling to stay conscious, she redoubled her grip on Edmund. Through bleary vision and blinding rain, she spotted a dragon diving to meet her. The huge creature glided underneath, and Bonnie plopped Edmund just behind one of her protruding spines. A gust blasted Bonnie to the side,