Read The Dragon and the George for Free Online

want you to be offended at what I'm going to say."
    He cleared his throat.
    "The truth is," he went on, "just between the two of us, you really aren't too bright, you know. All that running around on the surface you used to do and consorting with that fox, wolf, or whatever-it-was friend of yours was not the right sort of education at all for a growing dragon. Probably I should have put my foot down; but you're the last of our family, and I… well, I thought there wouldn't be any harm in letting you have a little fun and freedom when you were young. I've always backed you up before the other dragons, of course, because blood's thicker than water, and all that. But brains really aren't your strength—"
    "I may be brighter than you think," Jim said, grimly.
    "Now, now, don't be touchy. This is just between you and me, in private. It's no disgrace for a dragon to be thick-headed. It is a disadvantage in this modern world, though, now that georges have learned how to grow shells and long, sharp horns and stings. But the point I want to impress on you is something I wouldn't admit to any other dragon. If we're to survive, sooner or later we're going to have to come to some kind of terms with these georges. This constant warfare doesn't seem to be cutting down their numbers much, but it's decimating our ranks. Oh, you don't know what that word means—"
    "Of course I do."
    "You surprise me, my boy." Smrgol looked at him, startled. "What's it mean, then? Tell me!"
    "The destruction of a considerable part of—that's what it means."
    "By the primal egg! Maybe there's hope for you after all. Well, well. What I wanted to do was impress you with the importance of your mission, and also with its dangers. Don't take chances, Grand-nephew. You're my only surviving relative; and, in all kindness I say it—in spite of all that muscle of yours—any shelled george with a bit of experience would chop you up in an hour or so."
    "You think so? Maybe I'd better make it a point to keep well out of sight—"
    "Tut-tut! No need to get touchy. Now, what I want to do is try and find out from this george here where it came from. I'll leave, myself, so as not to frighten it unduly. If it won't talk, leave it here where it's safe and fly up to that magician who lives by the Tinkling Water. You know where that is, of course. Due northwest of here. Start negotiations through him. Just tell him we've got this george, what it looks like, and that we want to discuss terms for a truce with the georges. Leave it up to him to make arrangements. And whatever you do"—Smrgol paused to look Jim sternly in the eyes—"don't come back downcave to me for more advice before you leave. Just go. I'm having trouble enough holding control here with what prestige I have. I want to give the impression you're capable of handling this all by yourself. Understand?"
    "I understand," said Jim.
    "Good." Smrgol waddled to the open-air entrance of the cave. "Good luck, boy!" he said, and dived off.
    Jim heard the beating of his great, leathery wings descending and dying out in the distance. Then he turned back to the cage, pulled the tapestry off it once more, and discovered Angie huddled in the back of it, as far away from him as she could get.
    "It's all right," he told her, hastily. "It's just me, Jim…"
    He was hunting about for some part of the cage that would open up. After a second, he found a door with a heavy padlock on it, but there was no key. Experimentally, he took hold of the door with one large, clawed paw, grasped a cage bar with another, and pulled. The padlock twanged and disintegrated, the cage bar broke into pieces, the door flew open. Angie screamed.
    "It's just me, I tell you, Angie!" he said, annoyed. "Come out, now."
    Angie did not come out. She scooped up one of the broken pieces of bar and held it like a dagger, underhanded, with its sharply splintered end toward him.
    "Stay away from me, dragon!" she said. "I'll blind you