Even though he’d shape-shifted into elven form, the dragon’s aura made all the hair on my body stand up, and my skin ached all over from the charge of electricity battering it. But that was nothing compared to his presence in my mind. Marador’s touch on my temple was light, but mental talons raked through my head, eliciting pain as they stirred up my thoughts, digging trenches into my meagre barriers.
I still gripped Nightshade, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t move that hand, couldn’t move any part of my rigid body. The mental protection the magical blade gave me was too little to be of help against a dragon. My thoughts were all I could attempt to use to thwart him.
I pictured ponies, childhood carnival rides, and grass growing up through cracks in a sidewalk. I thought of boring PBS s
