Every now and then I caught a whiff of the dragon’s fetid breath as it exhaled on a downstroke. The smell was a cross between ammonia and rotting meat. It burned my nose and throat and made me cough so hard I almost retched. At first I thought that my sinuses might have been weakened by my recent cold, but Rafael seemed equally affected. I began to wonder if the stories about dragons breathing poisonous fumes that could knock a person dead in seconds were true. If so, our weapons would be of little use.