The Last Dragon Chronicles: Fire World: Fire World (40 page)

She gulped and looked at the book. Onthe cover was a quirky illustration of ahunched up figure in a long black coat. It

was skulking beside a large old tree, being watched from one of its branches by a tiny grey animal with a curving bushy tail. Penny opened it using just one finger. Straight away, the whole book altered its shape and the animal on the cover grew out of the pages. Penny squealed and let it go. The animal landed on all four feet, flicked its bushy tail and with great agility climbed the shelving up to Penny’s head height. There it stopped, twitched its whiskers and gave a happy chirrup. Then it sat bolt upright with its tail held stiff, staring at something at Penny’s back.

“Well, well,” said a voice. “What
 
have
 
you done?”

Penny gasped and flattened herself against a wall. The speaker was Aunt Gwyneth, fully grown once more. In her

right hand she was holding the dragon’s claw. In her left was the cage she’d been imprisoned in. Inside it now was Eliza Merriman.

10

“Hhh!
 
You!
” Penny cried. Her eyes darted wildly towards the cage. Eliza was trying to call out a warning, but her voice was weak and did not carry far. She raised her arms and tried signalling instead, but Aunt Gwyneth shook the cage from side to side, sending its occupant crashing back and forth like the clapper of a bell.

“What have you done?” screamed Penny. “Let my mum go!”

“Oh, spare me your emotional blather,” said the Aunt. “Did you really think I wouldn’t get free? Your mother won’t be harmed. She’s being taught a lesson. She has to know who is in control, that’s all.”

A lively flash of blue light paused the

argument. Penny jumped a little and glanced through the window. Suddenly, the rain was pelting down. Another long, low creak rose up from below and the building swayed in a circular motion, as if it had been cast adrift from the ground. From deep at its roots came the sound of grinding stone; further forward, the groan of stretching timber. Too confused to take it in, Penny returned her thoughts to her mother. After the battering she’d taken, Eliza was sprawled over the floor of the cage. Not injured, but very dizzy. “How did you grow big and put Mum in there?”

“Ah, well,” said the Aunt, sounding rather smug. “I’d love to be able to claim that I did it, but it was really the influence of this little gem.” She twiddled the claw in front of her face, admiring its slender

outline and strength. “Before you ask, it’s a dragon relic, put here by a seer called Agawin. Don’t pester me with questions about him; I really don’t have the time. I think he intended that your brother should find this. And I propose to deliver it to David – for a price.”

“What does it do?” Penny growled. To her relief, her mother was beginning to sit

up.

“Well, if I remember my training correctly, most Aunts would have called it a ‘wand’. You wave it, you wish, and it performs  certain  magicks.   Something you’re quite good at, it seems.” She circled a hand, inviting the girl to observe the changes taking place around them. The book shelves were slowly reinventing themselves into a network of planks and

ropes.  A  long-armed   creature   with drooping eyes and scratchy golden fur swung across the room and entered a boxshaped compartment in the corner, giving a whimpering call as it went. The whole librarium was coming alive with hoots and calls and screeches and chirrs, not unlike   when   someone   pressed   the doorbell. And all the while there was the

sense of movement. A slight pitch sideways. A mild tilt. Buoyancy.

“Oh yes, this is all your doing,” said the Aunt,   picking   up   on   Penny’s bewilderment.   “The   book  you  just transformed was a key. A trigger to a complex feat of metamorphosis. Once activated, the whole building displays its true purpose. Do you know what you’ve begun here, child? The rain should give

you a clue. It’s a boat. A very large boat. A floating sanctuary called an ‘ark’. A refuge for animals stripped from the Dead Lands during the time of the Great Re:duction. Clever, I must admit, to disguise it as a museum for books – a dreary place that no one would think to show interest in. I wonder how he worked it out? What arrangements he made? What lengths he went to? What sacrifices he endured?” Her gaze fell solidly on the claw again. “What help he had? I sense the involvement of dragons in this. And did he take in
 
all
 
the species, I wonder? Or did he leave out some of the uglier ones? I do hope he’s housed a giraffe. I always loved the old digi:grafs of—”

Her musing stopped abruptly. For the last few moments of her lumbering lecture

she’d been talking to the air in front of her. She was about to whip around when Penny knocked into her from behind. With a rush, the girl wrestled the cage free and set about making her escape. Ordinarily, this sort of behaviour would not have troubled the Aunt Su:perior, for it was no effort for a woman of her capabilities to track down a frightened, desperate child. But the kick that Penny had administered to the old woman’s bony knee-cap did madden her and hinder her response. The reprisal, when it came, was swift – and savage. A stake of wood, ripped from the still-growing edifice around them, flashed through the air and speared the floor in front of Penny. It was as tall as her chin and landed so close that she could almost

scent the individual splinters as it

quivered underneath her nose.

“The next one goes through your foot,” said the Aunt. “Now come back here, before I run out of patience.”

“Penny, do as she says,” squeaked a voice.

The girl looked down in anguish at her mother. “But you were warning me to get away,” she whispered, remembering the flapping of arms.

“I know, but she’ll hurt you if you try again. She needs us. The claw won’t work without our auma. She tricked me into finding it and turned it against me. But I’m alive and so will you be if—”

“What are you whispering?” snapped the Aunt.

Penny turned around, her breathing loud and heavy in her chest. She felt the ark

rock again and suddenly an idea came to her. She blurted out, “Is it true you need us to work that thing?”

“ I t
 
helps
,”   Aunt   Gwyneth   said scornfully. “Now get over here.”

“I know something you don’t.”

“Penny, what are you doing?” Eliza hissed.

The Aunt sighed and tapped her fingers against  the  claw.   “You’re   deluding yourself, child – but do go on.”

“I saw a flying girl.”

Eliza said, “
 
What?
”

Aunt Gwyneth’s face darkened – but with interest, not malice.

“She brought me here,” said Penny. “She showed me the book. She said her name was Angel. I know where she is.” These last five words were an outright lie,

for Penny had no idea where Angel had gone to, and would never have given the girl up if she did. Her plan was simply to make the Aunt curious and gain a little more time. The room had completed its transformation.   And   the
 
chaka-chakachaka
 
noises coming from next door were an indication something was happening there as well. How long could it be before David or the firebirds came to check on her? Or the magical Angel herself?

In four strides, Aunt Gwyneth was at Penny’s side. She took the girl by the hair and yanked her closer. Penny’s face screwed up in pain.

“I’m glad you think it hurts. It’s meant to, child. Don’t ever disobey me again. If you’re lying about this angel girl I’ll make you so small you’ll only be fit for spider

food. Oh, silly me. You don’t know what a spider is, do you? Think of a creature with spindly legs and a hairy body and an ugly mouth that would trap you and starve you and use its saliva to soften your body before it digests you. They will be running all over this ark. There might even be one or two in this
 
room
.” She rolled Penny’s hair a little tighter in her fist. “Where is this flying girl?”

“Be-behind you,” Penny rasped.

There was a pause. The Aunt read her captive’s eyes. Surprisingly, the girl was telling the truth.

Well, almost the truth.

She threw Penny aside and spun herself around, hopeful of seeing a phenomenon that was only ever talked about in the most secretive meetings of Aunt Su:periors.

Instead, she came face to face withanother kind of wonder: three dragons. Orto give the species its correct name:
dragonets
 
. Each was roughly four timesthe size of a firebird. One green. One red. One a soft cream colour. The latter wasexceptionally beautiful. The sleek lines ofher face, from her sweetly-sculpted earsto the tips of her exquisite nostrils, were

so   perfect   they   might   have   been imagineered by light. She was enjoying the fact that by moving her wings far quicker than her heartbeat she could hover in mid-air. She seemed particularly proud of her arms, especially the dexterity of movement in her five hooked claws. By that same token, however, she looked acutely upset to see a single dragon claw in the hands of an enemy of the Ark of

Agawin. Her jewelled eyes shone in thesemi-darkness, sparkling through a richkaleidoscope of colours before settling ona single colour: crimson. Her companionsadjusted their irises likewise. On a singlecommand (a
 
hrrr
, not a
 
rrrh
) they openedtheir jaws and made fire in their throats. And before Aunt Gwyneth could quickenher thoughts to imagineer an escape, she’dbeen doused in flame from head to toe.

11

But, amazingly, it did not kill her. Herbody pitched and jerked within its sleeveof fire and she screeched as loudly as anycreature on the ark (setting off an echoingcacophony throughout), yet when it wasdone she was still standing. The onlyindications of any kind of burning werethe crackling frizzles at the ends of herhair and the lingering smell of charredcarbons (mainly motes of wood that hadsettled  on  her   clothing  during  the

transformation).   She  lifted  her  gaze towards her attackers. “Thank you,” she said to them, rolling the words together in a growl. “I feel so much
 
better
 
for that.” And here was a lesson for Aurielle to

learn: a dragon cannot flame its own kind. All their combined assault had achieved

was to energise the claw and make Aunt Gwyneth stronger. She was not slow to explore her new potential, either. Aleron and Aurielle wisely backed away from her furious glare, but Azkiar, ever the impulsive one, bared his fangs (fangs!) and made a lunge for her. With one flick of the claw, she sent him tumbling backwards. He crashed into a wooden

stanchion, bringing down a section of the structure which housed the gibbering animals. The same impact scared away a small collective of dark-coloured birds

that had been strutting about on one of the runs. They scattered in front of Aurielle and funnelled through the window. When they had cleared, Aunt Gwyneth was

nowhere to be seen.

At that point, Penny came bounding forward and said with some urgency, “She flew away! She made herself into a bird!” She put the cage aside and flapped her arms. Aurielle, who had settled on the floor by now, blew a smoke ring and flexed her optical triggers. Although she did not understand what had happened to the eyrie or the exciting transition the firebirds had gone through, the advantages of it were plainly felt. One was improved vision. She let her gaze stream into the misty sky. The birds were dark specks, not much bigger than swollen rain drops. One had separated off from the group and was spiralling up the side of the ark. Aurielle let her eyes zoom in on it. Despite reaching the limits of her sight, she was

able to verify Penny’s account. The black bird had an arrogant glint in its eye – and one of its claws was coloured dark green.

“You’ve got to go after her!” Penny gabbled on. “She’s going to hurt David. I know she is.”

David. The one word of human-speak Aurielle   understood.   She   flipped  a worried glance at Azkiar. He was winded and had suffered damage to a wing (one of his balancing stigs had sheared). He would not be flying anywhere quickly – at least not in a straight line. And all this time the Aunt was escaping. Aurielle knew she must act. Telling Aleron to guard the humans (and to please keep Azkiar
 
put
, for once), she lifted off and arrowed her body through the window. She rolled twice in the rain before

opening her wings with a satisfying
 
phut!
 
And away she went in pursuit.

Aunt Gwyneth meanwhile – or the raven she’d become (a deliberate lowlevel transformation to preserve the capability of the claw) – was also enjoying the wonders of flight. She was soaring through the air, angling her head both left and right, taking in the changes to the librarium. Her dialogue with Penny had not been overstated. The giant stone building  had  metamorphosed  into  a colossal floating vessel, with a bloated wooden hull and a sturdy prow. It sat upon an ocean (there was no better word) of clear blue water still being patterned by tumbling rain. A host of creatures, some in shoals, some individual giants, swam alongside as it bobbed through the water.

What powered it, who could say? Whereit was going, the Aunt could not tell. But itwas all the while being joined by anincreasing number of smaller boats,imagineered by bewildered Co:pern:icanswho had adopted the ark as their templatefor survival. They could be seen lining thesides of their vessels, aiming eyeglassesand   tele:scopes   at   the   leviathandominating the rising water. None of thesupporting boats was any taller than theninth row of planking in the ark’sstrapping hull. And none were within theshadow of its girth. But all of them weregoing where its bow wave pointed. Whatother choice did they have?