Graymore is a dragon hunter. Natalie Yacobson

suddenly answered, «and breathe fire, like a fire fairy. And even grow scales like jewels. Dragon ladies can be found, too.»

      Graymore looked back in horror. Had someone said dragon ladies, or did she just hear them? A woodpecker was tapping behind her, and a gazelle had jogged through the thicket and turned onto the path beyond which something dazzlingly golden glittered. Could it be the statue the skeleton had mentioned? Graymore was frightened.

      She was frightened. She wasn’t afraid of dragons, but she was afraid of some statue.

      «Let’s get out of here, Maverin!» She gave the horse a jerk, and it galloped forward strangely enough. Even a heavy load of rapiers, maces, and short axes did not deter him.

      Ashamed to admit it, but Graymore followed the skeleton’s advice and took her luxurious ball gown with her. It might come in handy! The dress was rolled up in a knot, along with a pearl hairnet and elegant slippers.

      «Was this a ball or a hunt?» reproached she herself, noticing that the knot attached to the saddle was untied and there was a bright emerald cloth glittering inside. She wanted to take off her armor and put on her dress right now. After all, it wasn’t the armor that protected her from the dragons, but her inner strength.

      The farther the horse rode, the narrower the path became. Behind the tree cover was something rough and flat, like a monument.

      «I think we’ve reached the mountains, Maverin,» Graymore held the horse back.

      No one was chasing them. Just in case, Graymore listened. There was no sound of hoof stomping or footsteps behind them. She could rest now.

      The Southern woods were near. The thicket was beginning to look more like a tropical jungle. It was as it should be on the southern frontier where it was always warm. Vines of lush flowers stretched across the mountains.

      Graymore dismounted, took off her heavy cuirass, and tightened her disheveled braid. The small mountain lake was like a smooth mirror. The princess was reflected in it to her full height.

      «It is no dragons nearby,» Graymore concluded, because she felt no internal heat at the moment. «Then we can play dress-up. Not that I want to go to the ball… But you’d know how hot those armors are, Maverin.»

      The horse roared monotonously in response and looked for grass to pluck. Graymore found wild berries, too. They are raspberries and physalis. They are enough to satisfy hunger, and there is fresh water, too. Graymore scooped it up from the lake.

      Skeleton would not advise her to drink water from oncoming springs. What if the water was bewitched by deep-sea mermaids? But Graymore had no choice. She could not carry a barrel of water with her. You can’t go far with such a burden, and the water would run out quickly anyway. If you want to travel without an escort, you must travel light.

      Graymore preferred to manage everything herself. She even chose a dress with lacing in the front to do without the help of a lady’s maid. It was easy to put on.

      «Now we can go to an elves ball,» Graymore joked. Or was it a dragon’s ball? The woods are more likely to be inhabited by elves.

      Strangely enough, there was music in the distance. A breeze carried it. Graymore wanted to go to the sounds, but changed her mind. She didn’t feel like dancing with the elves right now. Besides, there was a rumor that those who fell into the circle of elves could not go back to humans afterwards. And she needed to get back to Livellin for her own coronation. So you can’t meet elves. It’s not like she wants to be an elves concubine, she wants to be queen of Livellin. Such a lofty goal requires self-concentration. No elves!

      Graymore covered her ears, and when she uncovered them, the music had stopped. This is it! If there had been an elves procession here, it had already passed.

      But the flowers were still there, and they had grown bigger. Graymore snipped one of the vines and wove a wreath of lush pink and white flowers.

      It made her look like a May queen, and Maverin munched blissfully on the grass by the lake.

      The idyll did not last long. A tight fiery spring of pain twisted inside Graymore. A dragon was somewhere near.

      Is it a young man or a lizard?

      Graymore crouched in pain and grabbed her crossbow. As long as she wore a tight corset dress, she couldn’t swing a sword, but she could shoot. The bouffant sleeves and broad flared sleeves didn’t hinder an archer’s marksmanship. Graymore aimed for the thicket, expecting to see the dragon’s enormous snout emerge, but the beast never did. Perhaps it was flying high over the mountains, and she felt it. The fiery ache inside usually heralded the fact that the dragon was somewhere nearby, but not that it was planning to attack her at all.

      «So dainty and frail a lady like you is going to hunt bears?» A mocking voice came through the thicket.

      It was the sound of the velvety tenor that sent Graymore over the edge of her insides. Surely it must be an elf! No matter how hard she tried to avoid dealing with elves seducers, one of them seemed to have gotten on her trail on purpose.

      A slender young man appeared beside the lake. His face seemed to be covered in golden scales. Graymore tried to get a better look. No, it was just a mask. It must have fallen off, because now the mask was gone. The stranger was so handsome. It took Graymore’s breath away. She had never seen anyone so beautiful in her life, and at her court had visited many foreign princes, sheikhs, shahs, caliphs, princes and all kinds of ambassadors.

      «Do you want to kill me?» The handsome man arched his eyebrows mockingly.

      Her cheeks flashed with shame as she realized she was aiming for his chest.

      «I’m not a bear.»

      «Are there bears around here?» She mumbled.

      «There are centaurs, elves and dragons.»

      «Well, that’s what I hunt!»

      «You do?» He moved closer, throwing the vines aside with his hands. «A dragon hunted by such a little thing? Isn’t that funny?»

      «You’ve got to be kidding me.» Graymore jammed the tip of her crossbow into the stranger’s chest. «You’ll see me catch a dragon.»

      «Catch me,» the stranger jerked his arm across her throat.

      «You’re the elf who wants the girl to catch him? Usually it’s the other way around. Elves catch and seduce girls.»

      «It is not always! I once saw a beautiful, greedy queen come into the forest to perform a rite herself, in order to trap a rich elf or dragon as her husband.»

      «Was she lucky?»

      «Yes and no.»

      «Why is that? Explain.»

      «She caught a rich man in scales, but after her wedding night with him she turned into a dragon herself. You should have seen how she woke up in a witch’s circle and howled when she found scales sprouting in her delicate skin.»

      «I have never heard the legend of such a queen.»

      «It is not a legend, but the plain truth. The queen’s name was Ligeia. She ruled over an empty kingdom that used to be called the Marids.»

      «There hasn’t been such a kingdom for over three hundred years. It was swept away by a flood. Allegedly the watermen appropriated the Marids for themselves.»

      «And so it was. Queen Ligeia first robbed the lake’s king and then seduced the dragon. And then she turned into a dragon herself and scorched all the water in her sunken kingdom. Now instead of a lake there is a burnt-out swamp.»

      «I’ve never heard of people turning into dragons.»

      «Then you don’t know anything about dragons.»

      «What do you mean, I know nothing?» Graymore was nearly taken aback. Does he know how many captive dragons