Dragon Rider (2 page)

The old dragon nodded. “Come to my cave before you leave,” he said. “I will tell you all I can remember, even though it isn’t much. But now I must get in out of the rain or I won’t be able to move my old bones at all tomorrow.”

With difficulty, Slatebeard trudged back to his cave. Firedrake stayed behind with Sorrel and Rat. The brownie girl was perched on his back, looking fierce. “You idiot!” she said quietly. “Acting the big hero, right? Off to look for something that doesn’t exist. I ask you!”

“What are you muttering about?” asked Firedrake, turning his head to look at her.

This was too much for Sorrel. She lost her temper. “And who’s going to wake you when the sun sets?” she demanded. “Who’s going to protect you from human beings? Who’s going to sing you to sleep and scratch you behind the ears?”

“Yes,
who?”
asked Rat sharply. She was still sitting on the rock where the old dragon had stood.

“Me, of course!” Sorrel spat at her. “Tedious toadstools, what else can I do?”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Firedrake turned so abruptly that Sorrel almost slipped off his wet back. “You can’t come!”

“And just why not?” Sorrel folded her arms, looking offended.

“Because it’s dangerous.”

“I don’t care.”

“But you hate flying! It makes you airsick!”

“I’ll get used to it.”

“You’ll be homesick, too.”

“Homesick for what? You think I’m going to wait here till the fish come and nibble my toes? No, I’m going with you.”

Firedrake sighed. “Oh, very well,” he murmured. “You can come. But don’t blame me afterward for taking you along.”

“She will,” said Rat, chuckling as she jumped off the rock into the damp grass. “Brownies are never happy without something to complain about. Well, now let’s go and see the old dragon. If you’re going to start tonight there’s no time to waste. Certainly not enough time to finish your quarrel with this dim-witted mushroom-muncher.”

3. Advice and Warnings

 

 

S
latebeard was lying at the mouth of his cave listening to the rain when they arrived. “You haven’t changed your mind?” he asked when Firedrake lay down beside him on the rocky ground.

The young dragon shook his head. “But I won’t be alone. Sorrel’s coming with me.”

“Well, well!” The old dragon looked at Sorrel. “Good. She may come in useful. She knows human beings, she has a quick mind, and brownies are more suspicious by nature than dragons. Which won’t be any bad thing on this journey of yours. Her big appetite could be a problem, but no doubt she’ll soon get used to eating less.”

Sorrel looked anxiously down at her stomach.

“Listen, then,” Slatebeard began again. “I don’t really remember very much. These days, the pictures get more and more muddled in my mind, but I do know this: You must fly to the highest mountain range in the whole world. It lies far away in the East. And when you get there, you must find the Rim of Heaven. Look for a chain of snow-covered peaks encircling
a valley like a ring of stone. As for the blue flowers growing in the valley,” he added, closing his eyes, “their fragrance hangs so heavy in the cold night air that you can taste it.” He sighed. “Ah, my memories are faded now, as if they were lost in the mist. But it’s a wonderful place.” His head sank to his paws, he closed his eyes, and his breath came more slowly. “There was something else,” he murmured. “About the Eye of the Moon. But I don’t remember what.”

“The Eye of the Moon?” Sorrel leaned toward him. “What’s that?”

But Slatebeard only shook his head sleepily. “I don’t remember,” he murmured. “But … beware,” he said, his voice so soft that they could hardly hear it, “beware of the Golden One.” Then a snore emerged from his muzzle.

Firedrake straightened up, looking thoughtful.

“What did he mean by that?” asked Sorrel anxiously. “Come on, we’d better wake him up again and ask him.”

But Firedrake shook his head. “Let him sleep. I don’t think he can tell us any more than he’s told us already.”

They left the cave quietly, and when Firedrake looked up at the sky the moon was visible for the first time that night.

“Oh, good,” said Sorrel, holding her paw up in the air. “At least it’s stopped raining.” Suddenly she clapped herself on the forehead. “Oh, fearsome fungi!” She swiftly slipped off Firedrake’s back. “I must pack some provisions. How do
we know there won’t be mushroom shortages where we’re going? Back in a moment. And don’t you dare,” she added menacingly, wagging a furry finger in Firedrake’s face, “don’t you dare even
think
of starting without me.”

With that she disappeared into the dark.

“Now listen, Firedrake,” said the rat anxiously, “you really don’t know much about what you’re looking for. You’re not used to navigating by the stars, and Sorrel’s mind is usually so full of mushrooms that she could get north and south mixed up and confuse the moon with the evening star. No, it won’t do.” Rat stroked her whiskers and looked at the dragon. “You need help, believe you me! As it happens, a cousin of mine makes maps. Very special maps. He may not know exactly where the Rim of Heaven is, but he can certainly tell you where to find the highest mountain range in the world. Stop off and see him on the way. I have to admit visiting him isn’t entirely without its risks,” said the rat, wrinkling her brow, “because he lives in a big city. But I think you ought to chance it. If you set off soon you can be there in two nights’ time.”

“City?” The indistinct figure of Sorrel emerged from the mist.

“For goodness’ sake,
must
you scare me to death?” asked Rat. “Yes, that’s right. My cousin lives in a human city. When you’ve left the sea behind you, keep flying eastward inland,
and you can’t miss it. It’s huge, a hundred times larger than this valley, and full of bridges and tall buildings. My cousin lives in an old warehouse on the river.”

“Does he look like you?” asked Sorrel, stuffing a few leaves into her mouth. She was carrying a bulging backpack, which she had brought back from one of her excursions into the world of human beings. “Yes, of course he does, you rats all look the same. Gray, gray, and gray again.”

“Gray is a very practical color!” spat the rat. “Unlike your silly spots. As it happens, however, my cousin is white. Snow-white. He wishes he wasn’t.”

“Do stop squabbling,” said Firedrake, looking up at the sky. The moon was now almost at its height, and if they were to set out that night it was time to leave. “Climb aboard, Sorrel,” he said. “Shall we take Rat, too, to give you someone to quarrel with?”

“No thanks!” Rat took a couple of small steps backward in alarm. “There’s no call for that kind of thing. I’m perfectly happy to know the world at secondhand. It’s a lot safer.”

“I never quarrel with anyone, anyway,” Sorrel mumbled with her mouth full as she clambered up onto the dragon’s back. “Pointy-nosed persons are oversensitive.”

Firedrake spread his wings, and Sorrel hastily clutched one of the large spines on his crest.

“Look after yourself, Rat,” said the dragon, bending his
neck to nuzzle the little animal affectionately. “It’s going to be some while before I’ll be back to keep you safe from wild cats.” Then he stepped back, took off from the damp ground, and rose into the air, beating his wings powerfully.

“Oh, no!” groaned Sorrel, clinging on so tight that her furry fingers hurt.

Firedrake rose higher and higher into the dark sky, and a cold wind whistled around the brownie girl’s pointed ears.

“I’ll never get used to this,” she muttered. “Not unless I start growing feathers.” She peered down cautiously at the valley below. “None of them,” she grumbled, “not a single one has so much as put his neck out of his cave to say good-bye. They probably won’t come out until they’re up to their chins in water. Hey, Firedrake!” she called to the dragon. “I know a nice little spot over there beyond those hills. Why don’t we stick around here instead?”

But Firedrake did not reply.

And the black hills rose between him and the valley where he had been born.

4. A Big City and a Small Human Being

 

 

“O
h, pestiferous parasols!” grumbled Sorrel. “If we don’t find somewhere pretty quick they’ll catch us and put us in the zoo.”

“What’s a zoo?” asked Firedrake, raising his muzzle from the water. He had landed an hour ago in the big city, in the darkest part of it they could find, far from the streets that were full of noise and light, even now when night had fallen. Ever since, he had been swimming from one dirty canal to the next looking for a place to hide during the day. But hard as Sorrel strained her catlike eyes and raised her sensitive nose to the wind, they couldn’t find anywhere that was large enough for a dragon and didn’t smell of human beings. Everything smelled of humans here, even the dark water and the garbage adrift in it.

“You mean you don’t know what a zoo is? Oh, I’ll explain later,” muttered Sorrel. “Although come to think of it, they’re more likely to stuff us. Bother, it’s going to take me hours to wash this filth off your scales.”

Firedrake was swimming like a silvery snake along the
dirty canal, under bridges, past the gray walls of buildings. Sorrel kept glancing uneasily at the sky, but there was no sign yet of the treacherous sun.

“There!” the brownie suddenly whispered, pointing to a tall building. The water of the canal lapped its windowless brick walls. “See that hatch? If you make yourself as thin as you can you might fit through. Swim over there. I’ll sniff around a bit.”

The dragon cautiously let himself drift toward the wall. A large loading hatch just above water level gaped open. Its decaying wooden door hung loose from the hinges. With one bound Sorrel jumped off Firedrake’s back, got a handhold on the roughcast wall, and put her head through the opening, snuffling.

“Seems okay,” she whispered. “There hasn’t been a human being in here for years. Nothing but mouse droppings and spiders. Come on.”

In a flash, she had disappeared into the dark. Firedrake hauled himself out of the water, shook his scaly body, and forced it through the hatch. He looked curiously around him at this structure, the work of human hands. He had never been inside a building before, and he didn’t like it. Large wooden crates and rotting cardboard cartons were stacked by the damp walls. Sorrel sniffed everything with interest, but she couldn’t pick up the scent of anything edible.

Wearily Firedrake dropped to the floor in front of the hatch and looked out. This was the first time he had made such a long flight. His wings ached, and the city was full of frightening sounds and smells. The dragon sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Sorrel sat down between his paws. “Oh, I see. Who’s homesick now, then?” She opened her backpack, took out a handful of mushrooms, and held them under his nose. “Here, get a noseful of these. They’ll drive the stink of this place out of your nostrils. I expect our friend the rat would like it just fine here, but you and I had better get out as soon as we can.” She patted Firedrake’s dirty scales comfortingly. “Get some sleep now. I’ll have a bit of a nap, too, and then I’ll be off to look for Rat’s cousin.”

Firedrake nodded. His eyes closed. When he heard Sorrel singing softly to herself, it was almost like being back in his cave. His tired limbs relaxed. Sleep was laying soft, soothing fingers on him … when Sorrel suddenly jumped up.

“There’s something in here!” she hissed.

Firedrake raised his head and looked around. “Where?” he asked.

“Behind those crates!” whispered Sorrel. “You stay here.” She crept toward a stack of crates that towered to the ceiling. Firedrake pricked up his ears. Now he could hear it, too: a rustling, a scraping of feet. The dragon raised himself.

“Come on out!” said Sorrel. “Come out, whatever you are!”

For a moment all was quiet. Very quiet. Except for the noises of the big city drifting in from outside.

“Come on out!” spat Sorrel again. “Or do I have to come and fetch you?”

There was some more rustling, and then a human boy crawled out from among the crates. Sorrel retreated in alarm. When the boy rose to his feet he was a good deal taller than she was. He stared incredulously at the brownie girl. And then he saw the dragon.

Firedrake’s scales still shone like silver in spite of the canal water, and in this small space he seemed enormous. Neck bent, he was gazing down at the boy in astonishment.

The dragon had never seen a human being at close quarters before. From everything that Rat and Sorrel had told him, he had imagined them as looking different — very different.

“He doesn’t smell of humans at all!” Sorrel growled. She had recovered from her fright and was inspecting the boy suspiciously, although from a safe distance. “He stinks of mice,” she added. “That’s why I didn’t smell him. Yes, that’ll be it.”

The boy took no notice of her. He raised his hand — a bare hand with no fur growing on it — and pointed
at Firedrake. “It’s a dragon!” he whispered. “A real, live dragon.”

He gave Firedrake an uncertain smile.

The dragon cautiously stretched out his long neck toward the boy and sniffed. Sorrel was right. He did smell of mouse droppings, but there was something else as well. A strange smell, the same smell that hung in the air outside — the smell of human beings.

“Of course it’s a dragon,” said Sorrel crossly. “And what are you?”

The boy turned to look at her in surprise. “Oh, wow!” he exclaimed. “You’re quite something, too! Are you an extraterrestrial?”

Sorrel proudly stroked her silky coat. “I’m a brownie. Can’t you see that?”

“A what?”

“A brownie!” repeated Sorrel impatiently. “Typical. You humans may be able to tell a cat from a dog, but that’s about all.”

“You look like a giant squirrel,” said the boy, grinning.

“Very funny!” spat Sorrel. “What are you doing here, anyway? A little titch like you isn’t usually out and about on his own.”

The grin vanished from the boy’s face as if Sorrel had wiped it away. “A thingummy-whatsit like you isn’t usually
out and about here, either,” he pointed out. “If you must know, I live here.”

“Here?” Sorrel looked around, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, here.” The boy glared at her. “For now, anyway. But if you like,” he added, looking at the dragon, “if you like you can stay here for the time being.”

“Thank you,” said Firedrake. “That’s extremely kind of you. What’s your name?”

The boy awkwardly pushed his hair back from his forehead. “My name’s Ben. What about you?”

“This,” said the dragon, nuzzling Sorrel gently in the stomach, “is Sorrel. And I am Firedrake.”

“Firedrake. That’s a good name.” Ben put out his hand tentatively to stroke the dragon’s neck, as if he feared Firedrake would disappear the moment he was touched.

Casting the boy a suspicious glance, Sorrel went over to the hatch and looked out. “Time to go and look for that rat,” she said. “You — human — can you tell me where the dockland warehouses are?”

Ben nodded. “Less than ten minutes’ walk from here. But how are you going to get there without being captured or stuffed and put on display in a museum?”

“You can leave that to me,” growled Sorrel.

Firedrake put his head between the two of them, looking anxious. “You mean it’s dangerous for her?” he asked the boy.

Ben nodded. “Of course. Well, looking the way she does I bet she won’t get ten meters from here. The first little old lady to spot her will call the police.”

“Police?” asked Firedrake, baffled. “What kind of thing is police?”

“I know what the police are,” muttered Sorrel. “But I have to reach those warehouses, so it’s just too bad.” She sat down and was about to let herself drop into the dirty canal water when Ben grasped her by the arm.

“I’ll take you there,” he said. “I’ll give you some of my clothes to wear, and then I can smuggle you past somehow. I’ve been living here a long time. I know all the back alleys.”

“Would you really guide her?” asked Firedrake. “How can we ever thank you?”

Ben turned red. “Oh, it’s nothing. Really,” he muttered.

Sorrel was not looking so enthusiastic. “Human clothes,” she growled. “Yuck. Dismal death caps, I shall stink of human beings for weeks.”

But she put the clothes on all the same.