“Is this where I die?” he asked the first star to appear in the deep blue to the east.

“That depends.”

He looked around for the voice, but saw no one. He was alone on the mesa except for a scrawny dog that looked a little bit like his abandoned Inu. But that couldn’t be. There were no dogs out here in the badlands. The animal must be a coyote. In any case, it couldn’t talk. He must be hallucinating.

“You’re an illusion,” he told the animal.

It grinned doggishly at him. “Sure of that are you?”

Sam decided to play along with his dementia. What harm could it do? “If you’re not, what’s going on?”

“You are lying in a dreaming circle.”

“A what?”

“A dreaming circle. You know, a place to have visions of power. The Indians who used to come here thought it was a pretty potent place. You gonna lie there all night?”

Sam rolled over to see the animal better. There was no pain, which wasn’t surprising. He was in the midst of a delirium-induced fantasy. Removing the pain was the least his brain could do for him. “Just who or what are you?”

“Call me Dog. You and me, we’re going to be good buddies. I’ve got a strong feeling about that.”

“I don’t believe in you. You’re an impossibility.”

“What’s impossible? You’re talking to me and I’m talking back. How can you not believe? Don’t your ears work?”

“It doesn’t make any sense.”

Dog cocked his head in such a way as to convey a shrug. “Or dollars, either. But we’re not talking price… yet.”

This really was impossible. Sam flopped over onto his back again. “Go away. Can’t you see that I’m dying?”

“Do you want to die?”

“No.”

“Then I can’t help you.” Dog trotted a few meters away and sat down with his back to Sam.

Sam felt annoyed. How could this figment of his own imagination turn its back on him? Hadn’t it been hard enough getting this close to death?

Dog looked at Sam over his shoulder. “Dying is easy. Happens all the time. It’s the next part that’s tricky.”

“Guess I’ll find out for myself soon enough. My brain’s baking in this sun, It must be.” Sam rolled to a sitting position and caught his knees within the sweep of his folded arms. “I’ll be completely dehydrated before long.”

“That’s the spirit. I knew you’d come around.” Dog trotted back and sat down facing Sam.

Sam stared into the animal’s eyes. The soft brown orbs seemed very old, filled with an alien wisdom. Those eyes were compelling, begging trust and encouraging the sharing of his deepest concerns. “After I die, my sister will have no one to help her. And no one will find Hanae’s murderers.”

“You’re still mixed up, using the wrong preposition.” Dog shook his head. “The word you want is unless, not after.”

“Words won’t matter soon. I’m dying.”

“Right on both counts. But I’ve got a word for you that will count morn than anything else in your life.” Dog grew as he spoke, expanding upward and outward and growing insubstantial as he did. Deep night, not the growing twilight around them, dwelt within his shape and Sam could see the stars in unbelievable numbers. The dog shape grew to encompass the sky from horizon to horizon. It lowered onto the earth and Sam was swallowed up by the shape. A word rang in his head and echoed across the landscape, soundless but loud. Magic.

He was afraid.

Turning, he ran. And ran. For kilometers, it seemed, certainly further than the limited surface of the small tableland should have allowed. A Dragon reared up before him, its form flickering and melting through diverse shapes. Sometimes it was covered with feathers like the serpent Tessien; at other times, it was an Eastern Dragon, a long, sinuous shape with a pair of legs instead of wings and long barbels drooping like a mustache over its toothy jaws. Mostly it was the powerful, scaly bulk of a Western Dragon. Its wings arched up over its back and shadowed him as it stood back on its hind legs and reached for him with its forepaws. It was terror and power and the unknown, and it wore the mantle of death.

An icy chill cut through Sam, making him shiver deep inside. He dodged the Dragon’s grasp and darted past its lashing tail. It turned and followed.

Questions tumbled through his mind, a mind curiously detached from the racing body that somehow managed to stay ahead of the ravening beast. Had he died and gone to hell? Was he condemned to flee pursuing fiends for eternity? Could he run forever? Did he want to?

In his pocket, the fossil tooth beat the rhythm to which his mind sped. Questions. Questions. He needed answers. He had thought he knew an answer when Dog first spoke to him. What was happening was not real, it was the dream of a dying man. He had no need to run.

As that thought came, the Dragon overtook him and its claws ripped through his body. Sam screamed and tumbled bonelessly to sprawl flat on his face. No dream had ever caused him that kind of pain. On the other hand, he seemed to be intact.

He stood, watching as the Dragon turned and started back toward him. His legs felt too weak to carry him, but he wanted to run. Had Begay felt like this when Tessien had swooped in for the kill?

Pushing back the desire to flee, Sam reached for his gun, only to find that it was not there. The Narcoject and its holster were gone. The only thing on him that approximated a weapon was the tooth. He fished it from his pocket and brandished it at the approaching Dragon.

“Come on, Wizworm. I’m not running anymore. Come and get me, if you can.”

The Dragon swooped low, its jaws open wide. Flame burst forth to wash over Sam. He felt the pressure and smelled the sulfurous foulness of the Dragon’s breath, but he did not burn. Nor did he smell the burning as he had when the sorcerer Rory had fireballed him in the Tir forest.

Halting its forward rush, the Dragon pulled up before him, hovering as it slowly beat its wings. It seemed to be waiting. Sam lowered the tooth.

“What’s the matter?” he jeered. “Can’t hurt me if I face you?”

He got his answer as the beast lashed out with a paw, digging triple furrows of agony across his chest. In reaction, Sam struck the retreating claw with the tooth. The Dragon rose in a booming thunder of wings, and wind tore at Sam, almost knocking him from his feet.

The Dragon began to circle him. With each widening pass, its shape altered, becoming less reptilian and more birdlike. By the fourth revolution, the beast had become a giant eagle, its feathers sparkling in the starlight. Lightnings crackled around the great bird as it circled overhead. It banked toward Sam, dipping its head in acknowledgement, before banking again to turn away. The bird rose higher and higher, dwindling from sight at incredible speed. Sam watched until he lost the dark shape among the stars.