Authors: Cornelia Funke
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Action & Adventure, #General
46. The Dragons’ CaveF
iredrake stood in the snow and looked down at the lake. It was far beneath them now, but his keen dragon eyes could see Nettlebrand reeling about in the foaming water, striking out at the tiny aircraft as it whirred around and around the thrashing monster, taunting him.“Come on,” said Burr-Burr-Chan, climbing off Firedrake’s back. “You saw the rat’s signal. She’ll manage. And we must hurry, or that monster may look our way again.”
The Dubidai marched rapidly through the snowfield. Ben and Sorrel followed him to a high wall of rock, white with snow, too. Burr-Burr-Chan stopped in front of it.
Firedrake came up beside him and glanced at him inquiringly. “Well?”
Burr-Burr-Chan chuckled. “I told you. You can look straight at it and never see it.” He pressed one furry finger to a certain spot on the smooth rock, a place that he could only just reach. “See that groove? Lean your shoulder against it and brace yourself against the rock.”
Firedrake did as he was told. As soon as he pushed at the icy stone the rock swung aside, revealing the entrance to a dark tunnel. Cautiously the dragon leaned forward to look inside.
“Come on, hurry up and get in there!” Burr-Burr-Chan pushed Ben and Sorrel into the darkness.
Firedrake cast one last glance down at the lake, where Lola Graytail was still infuriating Nettlebrand. Then he turned and disappeared down the tunnel.
A familiar odor met him. It was quite faint in the cold air, which was getting warmer with every step they took into the heart of the mountain. It was Firedrake’s own aroma, sharp and fresh as the air above the clouds — it was the scent of dragons. All of a sudden, he felt as if he had come home.
The tunnel led downward. Sometimes it turned left, sometimes right. Several times, narrow passages forked off it, passages just high enough for brownies. A tempting smell of mushrooms wafted out of some of these passageways. Sorrel’s stomach rumbled, but she resolutely walked on.
“It’s not at all dark in here,” said Ben when they were deep inside the mountain. “Why not?”
“Moonstone,” replied Burr-Burr-Chan. “We made the walls of moonstone. It soaks up light like a sponge. You only have to let moonlight in now and then, or blow a little dragon-fire down the tunnel, and it’ll last for years. Even so, the
place is much darker than when I was here last.” He looked up at the shimmering walls and shrugged his shoulders. “They’ve probably stopped letting any moonlight in, for fear of the golden dragon. I can’t wait to hear what they say when they know he’s paddling around right down there in the lake!”“They’ll be furious, that’s what,” muttered Sorrel, nervously tugging at her ears. “Simply furious. They probably won’t even bother to ask what we’ve come for.”
“We can’t fight human beings,” said Firedrake. “If we drive away a hundred, then a thousand will return. But we can deal with Nettlebrand.”
“What?” Sorrel barred his way. She looked uneasy. “Are you talking about that again — fighting and so forth? When we set out, it was to find somewhere you dragons could live in peace! Now you’re planning to fight that monster? Huh!”
“The Golden One is rather cumbersome in a fight,” said Burr-Burr-Chan behind her. “With his heavy armor, he soon gets out of breath. And he doesn’t seem to be especially clever. Look how the rat flew rings around him.”
“Nonsense!” Sorrel turned on him angrily. “Absolute rot, rubbish, garbage! He’s twenty times larger than Firedrake!”
“Larger, yes.” Burr-Burr-Chan shrugged his shoulders. “So what?”
“Don’t upset yourself, Sorrel,” said Firedrake, gently pushing the brownie girl aside. “Let’s go on.”
“Okay!” growled Sorrel crossly. “But no more nonsense about fighting, right?”
They went on in silence. For a while, the tunnel continued downward, but then it turned a sharp bend and a huge cavern opened out before them. The ceiling glittered faintly with thousands of moonstones. Stalactites hung from it like frozen sea spray, and stalagmites grew upward from floor to roof.
Ben took a couple of steps forward in astonishment. He had never seen such a place before. Here, far inside the mountain, the rock seemed to have come to life. He felt as if he were standing among strange plants and trees and hills, all made of shimmering silver stone.
“Well?” said Sorrel behind him. “Where are the other dragons, then?”
“Crawled away into hiding, you bet your life,” replied Burr-Burr-Chan.
Hesitantly Firedrake stepped into the cavern. Sorrel followed him. Burr-Burr-Chan and Ben came slowly after them. In the middle of the cave, among mounds of stone shaped like spiny dragon crests, Firedrake stopped.
“Where are you?” he called.
There was no answer but the echo of his own voice.
“Hi there! Hello!” shouted Sorrel. “Look, dragons, we’ve flown halfway around the world — you might at least show your faces and welcome us.” But she got no answer, either.
There was nothing to be heard but a faint rustling from a thicket of stalactites and stalagmites at the very back of the cave.
Sorrel pricked up her ears. “Hear that?” she whispered to Firedrake.
Firedrake nodded.
“It’s too dark in here,” he said. “I’ll give us a bit more light.” Arching his long neck, he breathed fire. It ran hissing among the stones, licked its way up the dark walls, and blazed blue all the way to the roof. The whole dragon cave began to shine so brightly that for a moment, Ben had to half close his eyes. The moonstones shone down from the roof, the walls glowed, and dragon-fire collected in crackling flames on the tips of the stalactites and stalagmites.
“Yes!” cried Burr-Burr-Chan, raising his four arms in the air. “Yes, that’s just how it ought to look!”
Firedrake closed his muzzle and looked around.
“Firedrake,” whispered Ben, placing a hand on his scales, “there’s something back there. Do you see those eyes?”
“I know,” replied the dragon quietly. “They’ve been there for some time. Let’s wait.”
All was still for a few moments. Firedrake’s dragon-fire still burned among the stones, crackling and hissing. Then, suddenly, a dragon emerged from the stalactites and stalagmites at the back of the cave. This one was smaller than Firedrake, with more delicate limbs, but its scales shone with just the same silvery gleam.
“It’s a she-dragon,” whispered Sorrel. “You can tell by the horns. They’re straight, not curved like Firedrake’s.”
Ben nodded.
The she-dragon snuffled and moved tentatively toward Firedrake. For a moment or so they stood looking at each other in silence.
“You’re not golden,” the she-dragon said at last, in a hoarse voice.
Firedrake shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I’m like you.”
“I — I wasn’t sure,” said the she-dragon uncertainly. “I’ve never seen the Golden One myself, but I’ve heard terrible tales of him. He’s said to be very cunning, and sometimes he has small creatures with him.” She looked curiously first at Sorrel, then at Burr-Burr-Chan.
“These are brownies,” said Firedrake. “You must have heard of them, too.”
The she-dragon frowned. “The stories say they let us down when we most needed their help.”
“What?” cried Burr-Burr-Chan indignantly. “We never —”
Firedrake looked at him and shook his head. “Don’t upset yourself,” he said. “There’ll be time for explanations later.”
“Where are the others?” asked Ben, stepping out of Firedrake’s shadow.
The she-dragon retreated in surprise. “The dragon rider,” she whispered. “The dragon rider is back!”
Ben bowed his head shyly.
“You ask where the others are?” The she-dragon bent over him until the tip of her muzzle almost touched his nose. “They’re here. Look around you.”
Baffled, Ben looked past her. “Where?”
“There,” replied the she-dragon, nodding toward the cave behind him.
Sorrel whistled. “Yes,” she whispered. “She’s right. There they are.” She climbed up on one of the mounds of rock that looked like crested dragon backs and patted the scaly stone. For once, she was speechless. Firedrake and the others looked up at her incredulously.
Ben put out his hand and touched the gray rock tails and bowed necks of the dragons. The she-dragon came up behind him.
“There were twenty-three of us,” she said, “but I am the only one left. Maia the Reckless, they always called me. Moonstruck Maia.” She shook her head sadly.
Firedrake turned to her. “What happened?”
“They didn’t go out anymore,” replied Maia in a low voice. “They stopped flying in the moonlight. And very slowly, they changed. I warned them. I said forgetting the moon is more dangerous than the golden dragon. But they wouldn’t listen to me. They became tired, sluggish, bad-tempered. They laughed at me when I went out in the moonlight or flew over the lake on nights when the moon
was full. They were forever repeating the old tale of the golden dragon who would destroy us all if we didn’t hide from him. ‘Careful,’ they used to say when I wanted to go out, ‘he’s out there. He’s lying in wait for us.’ But he never was. I told them so. ‘Remember,’ I said, ‘remember there’s another story, the tale of the dragon rider who will come back on the day when silver is worth more than gold, and with his aid we’ll defeat the golden dragon.’ But they only shook their heads and said the dragon rider was dead and gone and would never return.” She looked at Ben. “I was right, though. The dragon rider has come back.”“Perhaps,” said Firedrake, looking at the dragons now turned to stone. “But someone else is back, too. Nettlebrand is here as well. Nettlebrand the golden dragon.”
“He followed us,” added Sorrel. “He’s down there in the lake.”
Horrified, Maia looked at them. “The golden dragon?” she asked blankly. “So he really exists? And he’s here?”
“He’s been here often enough,” said Burr-Burr-Chan. “But he never found the way into this cave, and he won’t find it now, either.”
Firedrake nodded. “Nonetheless, we brought him here. I’m sorry.” He bowed his head. “I was so anxious to find this place that, without meaning to, I have led Nettlebrand to your door. But I won’t hide from him any longer. I will —”
“You’ll do what?” asked Maia. A shudder ran over her scales.
“I will fight him,” replied Firedrake. “I’ll chase him away from here. I will hunt him. I’ll rid you of him forever, for I am tired of hiding.”
Ben and the two brownies looked at one another in alarm.
“Fight him?” Maia looked at Firedrake. “I’ve wanted to do that a hundred times — a thousand times — when the others told me how he hunted them. The dragon-eater, protected by his golden skin, armed with a thousand ravenous teeth. Is he as terrible as they said?”
“They weren’t exactly exaggerating,” growled Sorrel.
Firedrake nodded. “Yes, he is terrible indeed, but I will fight him.”
“Yes,” murmured Maia. She fell silent again, looking around at the cave that was suddenly so bright once more. “I’ll help you,” she said. “Together, perhaps we can do it. That’s what I always told the others: United we’re stronger than he is. But they were too frightened to try.” Sadly she shook her head. “See what fear does to you.” She pointed with her head to the petrified dragons. “See how they cower there, motionless and lifeless. I don’t want to end up like that. You know what I think?” She came close to Firedrake. “I think you were meant to bring him here. It was bound to be so, and the two of us will overcome him. Just as the old
stories say: When the dragon rider returns, silver will be worth more than gold.”“Just the two of you? Oh, wonderful!” Insulted, Sorrel wrinkled her nose. “Don’t you think you could use a bit of help with all this fighting?”
“Er … they didn’t count me in, either,” said Ben.
“Don’t be silly — we can do with all the help we can get,” said Firedrake, nuzzling Sorrel in her furry stomach.
“Right, that makes five of us. Or no,” said Sorrel, perching on the tail of a stone dragon, “no, seven! Twigleg and the rat, too.”
“Twigleg and Lola!” cried Firedrake “They’re still out there somewhere!”
“Oh, moldy matsutake!” Burr-Burr-Chan jumped up. “They’ll be waiting for us where we first landed. There’s a mushroom cultivation tunnel that leads there. Come on, Sorrel, let’s find them.”