THE CRYSTAL AND THE DRAGON
With a dramatic suddenness that you do not
expect from a world in which you have lived for three months, and
which has rained all day on the road you have to ride tonight, the
dark arch of Claudia’s tower window lit up with silver. The roiling
depths of the golden globe stilled; the rich light dimmed to gray;
and from a little spark of red in the globe’s center there grew the
stately form of a dragon. It grew to the size of the globe, to the
outermost diameter of its glow; and stopped, before Ted had to
decide whether he was going to leave the room, possibly dragging
Ruth with him.
The wind rattled the windows. Ted could feel his
heart thumping in his ears. He had a good side view of the dragon,
which floated with its tail to the trap-door and its head toward
Randolph, at the window. The dragon was bright red with touches of
black. It was a very twisty, decorated dragon, with seven claws on
each foot and a great many tendrils and spikes and whiskers.
Ted didn’t want that huge, tapering head to look
in his direction. It had black eyes with red pupils and could have
looked at him, if it had wanted to, without turning its head. But
its gaze was bent on Randolph. Randolph went down on one knee and
bowed his forehead onto the other. It was the most extravagant
gesture of respect that Ted had ever seen anybody in the Secret
Country make.