Sparks flew in the darkness.
The air was thick with the pungent smell of sulfur and the charred odor of plants scorched by intense heat.
The Peruvian Vipertooth circled low over the center of the plaza.
It was about fifteen feet long, its body covered in brass-colored scales, and the black ridge along its spine rose and fell violently with its breathing.
Newt crouched behind a broken stone beam, shouting to Dick, who was running up from behind:
“Dick! Have your people fan out! Use Fanged Geraniums and blowdarts from the flanks to distract it—don’t let it focus its fire!”
“Leave it to me!”
Dick spat out a mouthful of dirt and let out a sharp whistle.
The Shuar hunters, like nimble jungle cats, leaped over a row of burning fences.
The Vipertooth noticed the suspicious moving target.
Snapping its massive jaws open, it unleashed a blazing pillar of crimson fire.
The flames chased Dick’s heels, scorching a line of black scars along the ground behind him.
But with his absolute familiarity with the terrain, Dick dove and rolled behind a low wall a split second before the dragon fire could touch his back.
“Damn it, it’s going wild. Spitting fire like that takes a massive toll on its body.”
Frey wiped the soot from his face.
As his blood boiled, a bloodthirsty urge to sink his teeth into flesh washed over him.
He bit his lower lip, the taste of rust spreading through his mouth, suppressing the impulse.
He stepped out from behind his cover and swept his wand through the air in a broad arc:
“*Confringo!*”
An orange-red sphere of light shot toward the Vipertooth like a cannonball.
The sphere detonated with a deafening roar right next to the Vipertooth’s ear.
Frey would bet that the dragon’s head had been in that exact spot just a second ago!
The red light unleashed by the blast almost turned the surrounding rainforest as bright as day, and the resulting shockwave even knocked over two unlucky indigenous hunters.
The sheer force of the impact forced the Vipertooth’s fanged head to jerk violently to the side.
“Your opponent is over here, you beast!” Frey roared.
Dazed by the thunderous blast, the Vipertooth shook its head, its eyes locking onto the boy who had dared to provoke it.
“Frey! Calm down!” Newt shouted from behind a low wall.
“Your wand is the crosshair, and your magic is the cannonball! Throw it! Fling it out just like you fling mud at Rolf’s face!”
This advice made Hermione’s vision go dark, but Frey understood perfectly.
He took a deep breath and tried to adjust the flow of his magic.
“Its weaknesses are its eyes and underbelly!” Hermione crouched behind Frey, reciting rapidly.
“In its evolution for extreme speed, the Peruvian Vipertooth discarded its heavy belly armor. That’s its softest spot!”
“Got it!”
The plaza was in absolute chaos.
From the shadows, the indigenous hunters blew volleys of darts laced with paralyzing poison.
Strange, bizarre magical plants grew frantically under the encouragement of native wizards, trying to snare the dragon’s sharp talons. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Yet, the Vipertooth’s movements were like a ghost.
It darted left and right in the air, making maneuvers at nearly right angles.
Several deadly spell attacks merely scraped past its scales, leaving behind nothing but a shower of sparks.
The Vipertooth suddenly let out a shrill, agonizing shriek.
Frey shouted, “It’s too fast! Hermione, slow it down!”
Newt frowned.
He noticed burn marks on the dragon’s belly and claws, and the scales at its throat were flashing far more frequently than usual.
Moreover, after every dive, it would instinctively glance toward a building on the eastern side of the village.
“Something’s not right…” Newt muttered to himself.
“That shriek is the grief of a mother who lost her young. And its behavior is clearly that of a nesting mother dragon. She isn’t hunting; she’s looking for her eggs!”
Newt darted over to Dick’s side.
“Dick! Tell me the truth. Did someone in your tribe steal her eggs? She keeps staring at that hut to the east!”
Dick froze for a moment, then quickly exchanged a few words with the chieftain.
The chieftain’s face went pale instantly.
He cursed furiously toward the altar, then nodded gravely to Newt.
“That bastard! It’s Banco!” Dick cursed, then quickly dashed toward the hut with two of his tribesmen.
At that moment, Hermione sharply noticed a stiffness in the dragon’s flight path caused by its agitation.
“Frey!”
She raised her wand.
“*Arresto Momentum!*”
A blue ring of light snared the base of the Vipertooth’s wings.
Its lightning-fast speed bogged down instantly, as if it had suddenly flown into a pool of thick glue.
“Got you!” Frey grinned fiercely.
“Stay right there! *Wingardium Leviosa!*”
A massive surge of levitation magic forcibly arrested the dragon’s dive.
The massive beast let out a terrified shriek, suspended in mid-air five feet off the ground like a balloon.
Feeling a sense of unprecedented humiliation, the Vipertooth threw its head back.
A blinding red light glowed deep within its chest cavity; it was going to unleash its dragon fire at point-blank range.
“Want to spit fire? Swallow it!” Frey swept his wand down violently.
“*Descendo!*”
*Boom!*
The Vipertooth fell like a meteorite from the heavens, crashing heavily onto the stone slabs of the plaza in a shower of flying debris.
With its soft underbelly taking the brunt of the shock, the dragon saw stars.
The dragon fire building up in its throat was forcefully scattered by the massive impact.
Only a few embarrassing sparks and two puffs of black smoke escaped its nostrils.
“*Brachiabindo!*”
Several thick iron chains shot from the tip of Newt’s wand, wrapping around the Vipertooth’s long snout and binding it tight. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Dragons were peculiar creatures; while their bite could snap steel, the muscles responsible for opening their jaws were relatively weak.
As long as its mouth was sealed shut, its greatest weapons—its dragon fire and sharp fangs—were neutralized.
The mother dragon let out a desperate whimper.
She struggled frantically, her brass-colored scales scraping against the stone ground with a grating screech.
“Frey, the chains won’t hold for long! Do something!” Newt shouted.
Hermione glanced back at Frey, nodded, and dashed forward.
Under the astonished gazes of the onlookers, she waved her wand in a wave-like motion from left to right over the dragon’s head.
“*Aguamenti!*”
A stream of water gushed out.
The watching tribesmen were utterly baffled.
What good would that do?
It was like giving the dragon a bath—completely harmless.
But Frey understood.
He had started preparing a Freezing Charm even before Hermione made her move.
“Beautifully done, Hermione!”
“*Glacius Maxima!*”
*Crack!
Crack!*
The moment the water touched the dragon’s head, it was instantly frozen by Frey’s magic.
A massive block of ice formed in a flash, locking the Vipertooth’s head and Newt’s chains together.
The dual physical and magical restraint finally stripped the raging mother dragon of any ability to resist.
Seeing this, the surrounding native hunters immediately summoned a large mass of vines to wrap around her, binding the giant beast to the ground like a trussed-up package.
Newt instructed:
“Quick, get her into the backpack. We’ll deal with her when we have time! Gentle, Frey. She’s just a poor mother who lost her babies. Don’t break her wings.”
With a wave of Frey’s wand, the backpack on his back flew open automatically.
Without any resistance, the dragon twisted, deformed, and was sucked into the depths of the bag.
“Don’t worry, Grandpa. I’ve always treated Galleons far more gently than I treat women.”
Hermione glared at Frey in annoyance from behind.
“Indeed. Because Gold Galleons don’t scream at you for being an idiot when you’re uprooting trees.”
Frey looked back at Hermione.
“So, how is it? Getting used to life in the wild?”
“It’s much more exciting than watching *Voyages with Vampires* in London! When I get back, I’m going to write an article for the *Daily Prophet* too. I’ll call it *Travels with Dragons*.”
The crisis was finally resolved.
Everyone sat around the plaza in small groups, panting heavily.
From a corner of the plaza, Dick came running back, out of breath, cradling three brass-speckled, blue-colored eggs in his arms.
“Banco got away! But the eggs are all here.”