The Griffin's Feather

  Guinevere and Vita exchanged a perplexed glance. ‘Dragonmail? But Firedrake…’

  ‘Guinevere!’ exclaimed Vita. ‘What are you waiting for? Go and tell Ànemos!’

  Yes, of course.

  Guinevere raced out of the house so fast that she ran down the fungus-folk and their straw handcart. She looked around, but the Pegasus was nowhere to be seen. Guinevere hoped he wasn’t flying on patrol with the mist-ravens just now. She ran down to the fjord. Nothing! Until one of the winged pigs finally told her that he had seen Ànemos outside Slatebeard’s abandoned cave.

  The Pegasus was standing where the old dragon often used to lie. The ground there was still as warm as if the sun had been heating up the stone. Ànemos raised his head as Guinevere appeared at the mouth of the cave. She had run so fast that she was fighting for breath and couldn’t get out a word. But she didn’t have to say anything. Ànemos read her good news in her face.

  For a moment he just stood there, looking at her.

  Then he walked over and leaned his forehead against Guinevere’s shoulder.

  ‘Climb on, human girl!’ he said, spreading his wings as he carried her out of the cave.

  Guinevere felt how fast her heart was beating as he flew above the forest and the meadows with her. The good news had already spread. Dozens of fabulous beings were waiting outside the stable, but the mist-ravens made sure that none of them went into it.

  Of course, the geese who were looking after the nest knew what had happened. They were cackling in such excitement when Ànemos and Guinevere entered the stable that they forgot to protest as usual when she put her hand under their feathers. She reached carefully for the first egg that her fingers found. Ouranos was a tangle of legs and wings.

  ‘It’s going to be all right!’ whispered Guinevere, dropping a kiss on the egg where the foal was unhappily pressing his nose to the shell that was now too small for him. ‘Everything will be all right. And soon I’ll be riding you all, one after the other, and we’ll fly races with your father!’

  Ànemos came to stand beside her as she carefully tucked the egg under the goose feathers again. Guinevere hugged the geese, although they didn’t think much of such human expressions of emotion, and she smiled at Ànemos.

  ‘You see?’ she said. ‘My father is very good at keeping his promises.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  A New Dragon in MÍMAMEIĐR

  Is there not glory enough in living the days given to us?

  You should know there is adventure in simply being among

  those we love and the things we love, and beauty too.

  Lloyd Alexander, The Black Cauldron

  Ànemos could already see Tattoo when Guinevere and Vita could make out only a dark spot in the pale blue sky. Gilbert Greytail had expected the feather to arrive in the afternoon, but Tattoo had made considerably better speed than that. The Pegasus flew to meet the dragon at once, along with the mist-ravens.

  ‘That’s not Firedrake, Mum!’ said Guinevere when she saw Tattoo more clearly through the binoculars. ‘It’s another dragon!’

  Raskervint didn’t need binoculars to see Tattoo, but she looked as baffled as Guinevere. ‘Do dragons come patterned these days?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, that’s new to me too,’ replied Vita.

  None of them would ever forget the sight they saw that morning: the Pegasus and the dragon side by side, and Ben, waving to them in excitement over the shoulder of another boy who had a small furry something in his arms. The fear that had been dammed up in Guinevere’s heart over the last ten days turned to amazement and delight. Although her mother’s grave face reminded her that that the hope of the griffin’s feather saving the foals was still just that: a hope.

  Most of the inhabitants of MÍMAMEIĐR had gathered around the Pegasus stable when Tattoo and Ànemos landed behind it.

  ‘Guinevere!’ called Ben from the strange dragon’s back. ‘Let me introduce you! This is Tattoo! He brought us here faster than the wind. And this,’ he added, pointing to the other boy, ‘is…’

  ‘Winston Setiawan,’ said Winston, introducing himself. He pointed to his small, furry companion. ‘And this is Berulu.’

  ‘A maki – he looks a bit like a brownie,’ whispered Guinevere.

  Berulu twittered something in Winston’s ear.

  ‘He’s pointing out that he is not my pet. Okay, I’ll tell them,’ said Winston, climbing down from the dragon’s back. ‘Because brownie-makis don’t like that kind of thing at all.’

  ‘No wild animal does,’ said Guinevere, smiling at Berulu. ‘We know that here in MÍMAMEIĐR. Don’t worry!’

  She was taking great care not to stare at Tattoo. After all, she knew that no wild animal likes that either. But Tattoo himself was totally bewitched by all the fabulous creatures standing around him. He had never been so happy before. Or so proud, because he knew he had flown fast enough.

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ he asked Ben. ‘Show it to them!’

  Reaching into his backpack, Ben took out the bag containing the feather that Barnabas had given him. When he took it out, it shone like a sunbeam in his hand. It was almost as long as his forearm, but the quill on which all their hopes were set was not much larger than a pencil, and Ànemos looked at it with an expression that was full of hope and doubt at the same time.

  ‘Quick! Take the feather to Professor Spotiswode!’ Vita told Ben. ‘He’ll dilute the marrow in the quill so that we can paint the eggs with it. And then…’

  Vita didn’t end the sentence.

  Then they would see what happened.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  The Griffin’s Feather

  Life is always a rich and steady time when you

  are waiting for something to happen or to hatch.

  E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web

  The glaze that Professor Spotiswode was stirring, made from the marrow of the feather – with some egg white and a few drops of resin, as a recipe from ancient Persia specified – shone like gold, almost as brightly as the feather from which it had been taken.

  Ben was just leaving the house with Twigleg to take it to the stable when Lola came running over the yard. She was coming from the direction of the runway that Hothbrodd and two other trolls had built in the meadow, in such a way that it disappeared again after take-off and landing.

  ‘They’re back!’ called Lola in her shrill voice. ‘The troll has just landed! By the heart of all tornadoes, he must have flown like the devil!’

  ‘Or like Lola Greytail!’ Twigleg whispered.

  The news came as a great relief to Ben. It would be wonderful for them all to celebrate together if the feather worked. And if it didn’t they would all need Barnabas’s encouragement. He was the best of helpers in bad times as well as good.

  Barnabas himself, of course, was very glad that Hothbrodd had brought them back on time, but he also had another reason to look cheerful when he and the troll came to the stable.

  ‘Well, if it isn’t Ben Greenbloom!’ he said. ‘I really wasn’t expecting to see you here.’

  And then he hugged Ben for a very long time.

  Barnabas had shed a great many tears on the plane, but he and Hothbrodd kept that secret to themselves. And they didn’t tell anyone that instead of coming back to MÍMAMEIĐR, Ben had almost stayed with Firedrake. Even Vita and Guinevere didn’t hear about that until many years later.

  Of course they all wanted to see whether the magic of the griffin’s feather would really make the Pegasus eggs grow, but Hothbrodd stationed himself at the stable door, and let in only those who had been involved in either looking after the eggs, or searching for the feather. Hothbrodd himself stayed outside, officially to shoo away all the inquisitive impets and nisses who had gathered near the stable. But the troll wasn’t nearly as thick-skinned as he made out, and the fear that the magic of the feather might not work after all was too much for his big troll heart. Tattoo also stayed outside with Winston and Berulu, because a
dragon really did take up too much space. Raskervint didn’t join the crowd for the same reason (and because she very much wanted to talk to Hothbrodd and Tattoo). Gilbert Greytail and his various informants were working on a map of Iceland, and several geese discovered that the idea of the eggs they had protected so carefully being painted with a magical substance made them too nervous to watch.

  All the same, it was very crowded in the stable when everyone whom Hothbrodd had allowed in gathered around the nest.

  Barnabas had given Guinevere and Ben the job of painting the eggs with the golden paste. Gilbert had let them have two of his best brushes, but it was not a good feeling to see the foals disappear more and more behind the golden glaze. Ànemos snorted so anxiously that Barnabas put an arm around his neck, and after the first few brush strokes Twigleg, finding the suspense too much for his stomach, stole out of the stable.

  The others watched with bated breath as the three eggs slowly changed to gold. They really did look golden when Ben had painted the very last drops of the glaze on Synnefo’s egg. They might have been made of that solid precious metal. Only the tapping of their hooves showed that the foals behind the shells were all right.

  ‘Now they just need warmth!’ said Vita. ‘May I ask you, ladies…?’

  The two geese who were down for the next shift were not enthusiastic about the sticky film that gilded their feathers, but finally, resigned to their fate, they settled on the nest.

  ‘How quickly do you think it will work?’ Ben whispered to Guinevere.

  ‘Very quickly, I hope!’ she whispered back. ‘It’s terrible not to be able to see the foals! They must be so frightened!’

  In spite of all the spectators, it went very quiet in the stable. Terribly quiet.

  Even Lola, who in the normal way was always fidgeting, stared at the nest as if she had been turned to stone.

  And then… then one of the geese began cackling excitedly.

  And the other goose joined in.

  They beat their grey wings, got off the eggs and retreated from them.

  The eggs were growing, as if the breath of the foals were stretching their shells.

  Soon the stable was full of shouts, cackles, and whinnies of joy.

  The three eggs finally left lying in the nest, which was now almost too small for them, were so large that they reminded Ben of the eggs of the legendary elephant bird, thought to have been extinct for over three hundred years.

  ‘Good heavens!’ Barnabas whispered to him. ‘I think we’ll have to get a few ostriches flown in to keep them warm!’

  ‘I’ve already asked Inua to do that very thing,’ said Vita. ‘He’s sending two ostrich hens who are delighted to help. They’ll arrive this evening.’

  The growing process had turned the eggs transparent again, and Ben and Barnabas couldn’t take their eyes off the foals. After all, the sight was new to both of them. Ouranos, Chara and Synnefo moved their wings, stretched legs that were as thin as drinking straws, and seemed unable to believe just yet that they had enough space again all of a sudden.

  ‘Suppose they go on growing?’ asked Guinevere. ‘We’ve used up half the contents of the quill!’

  Twigleg, who had been brought back to the stable by the cries of joy, thought the foals were more than large enough already. In fact they were the right size for a homunculus – if he had ever ventured to ride a winged horse!

  ‘One more treatment should be enough,’ he told Guinevere, while Barnabas opened the stable door wide so that Hothbrodd and Tattoo could at least catch a glimpse of the Pegasus foals. ‘It’s said that Pegasus foals are not much larger than a chicken when they hatch!’

  Guinevere thanked the homunculus with a smile of relief for his information. It would be wonderful to see three foals, not much larger than chickens, flying over the meadows around MÍMAMEIĐR.

  ‘What beautiful children, my friend!’ Barnabas said to Ànemos, as he wiped the condensation of deep emotion off his glasses.

  Ben gently touched the egg in which Chara was pressing his nose against the shell.

  ‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘Really, really beautiful.’

  He sent a silent message of thanks to Shrii and TerTaWa, to Patah and Kupo and the Whispering Tree. Even to Roargh, although he hadn’t plucked out his feather entirely of his own free will. And he couldn’t wait to send Firedrake and Sorrel a photo of the foals.

  ‘What do you say?’ Barnabas whispered to him, as they made way for Winston and Berulu to take their place beside the nest. ‘Isn’t ours the best work in the world? Even if it does land us locked up inside a cage from time to time?’

  ‘The very best!’ replied Ben. ‘But now that this adventure is over,’ he said, lifting Twigleg up to his shoulder, ‘who are we going to rescue next?’

  WHO’S WHO

  Human Beings

  David Atticsborough, FREEFAB specialist, and one of the most highly respected makers of wildlife films in the world.

  Catcher, leader of the poachers looking for prey on the island of Pulau Bulu.

  Inua Ellams, FREEFAB specialist in winged fabulous creatures.

  Bağdagül Ender, childhood friend of Barnabas who has devoted her life to the conservation of endangered creatures in Turkey.

  Barnabas Greenbloom, Ben’s adopted father and co-founder of FREEFAB, an organisation for the conservation of endangered fabulous creatures.

  Ben Greenbloom, aged 14, lives with his adopted family, the Greenblooms, at MÍMAMEIĐR in Norway, and helps to study and conserve the fabulous beings of this world. Ben has a very special friend, Firedrake the silver dragon, whose dragon rider he became two years ago.

  Guinevere Greenbloom, Ben’s adopted sister. She is mainly concerned with the water creatures of MÍMAMEIĐR. Until she meets the last Pegasus…

  Vita Greenbloom, wife of Barnabas, mother of Guinevere and adopted mother of Ben. Co-founder of FREEFAB and expert on winged fabulous creatures.

  Jane Gridall, FREEFAB expert and inventor of a sign language which has made it possible to communicate with almost every species on the planet.

  Dr Phoebe Humboldt, teaches Ben and Guinevere the study of fabulous beings.

  Kamaharan, a poacher, one of Catcher’s team.

  Jacques Maupassant, FREEFAB specialist in fantastic water creatures.

  Maisie Richardson, FREEFAB expert on grass fairies and fern fairies.

  Winston Setiawan, a boy who is an animal-lover, from an island near Pulau Bulu.

  Professor James Spotiswode, teaches Ben and Guinevere all branches of the natural sciences, also a specialist in telepathy and robotics.

  November Tan, FREEFAB expert, researching the dietary habits of fabulous beings.

  Holly Undset, a talented veterinary surgeon who sometimes also has to treat nixies, impets and a Pegasus.

  Non-human Beings

  Ànemos, a Pegasus stallion. Even in MÍMAMEIĐR these winged horses of Greek mythology were thought to be extinct, until the Greenblooms discovered Ànemos and his companion in Greece.

  Awan Petir, a black macaque who supervises the poachers and makes sure that they pay up.

  Berulu, a brownie-maki and companion of Winston. Brownie-makis, also known as tarsiers, are small, nocturnal, tree-dwelling animals, with strikingly large eyes, a very mobile neck, and the long hind legs that enable them to jump long distances.

  Dr Eel, a famous marine biologist and spokeswoman for all water creatures (being one of them herself).

  Eight, a Great Kraken in the ocean off the Indonesian coast, and Eugene’s friend. Eight is looking for another Great Kraken.

  E-Mas, the Golden Gibbon. Gibbons are primates that have no tails. A striking feature is that their forelegs are considerably longer than their hind legs, so that they can move by swinging from hand to hand through the branches of trees, a form of movement unique to them in the animal kingdom.

  Eugene, a four-eyed crab met by Firedrake and Tattoo on the island of Pulau Bulu. Loves shiny things and picks them up.
r />   Gilbert Greytail, a white ship’s rat from Hamburg and a brilliant cartographer. He now lives with the Greenblooms at MÍMAMEIĐR, and teaches Ben and Guinevere geography.

  Hafgufa, a Great Kraken living off the Norwegian coast.

  Hothbrodd, a rather grumpy but good-hearted diurnal troll (he is awake in the daytime), who carves wonderful things with his knife. Hothbrodd can talk to trees, and is an indispensable member of FREEFAB. He lives at MÍMAMEIĐR.

  Kachang, one of Kraa’s macaques.

  Kupo, a slow loris and very talented carver. She has suffered under Kraa’s rule for a long time. Lorises are a family of primates from the lemur group. They are relatively small nocturnal, tree-dwelling animals, found in Africa and Asia. The slow loris has developed a slow form of movement that is unique among primates.

  Lola Greytail, a daredevil rat, Gilbert’s cousin. An aviator who performs aerobatic stunts and is the best scout anyone could wish for.

  Lyo-Lyok, a grey goose.

  Manis, a slow loris and a carver who was killed by Kraa.

  Me-Rah, a nervous chattering lory who guides Ben and Barnabas to Pulau Bulu.

  Nakal, a proboscis monkey and Kraa’s master of ceremonies. The most striking feature of proboscis monkeys is their large, pear-shaped noses.

  Patah, macaque from Shrii’s retinue.

  Sorrel, a Scottish brownie and Firedrake’s companion. Every dragon needs a brownie, even if the brownies can be bad-tempered at times.

  Professor Sutan Buceros, a rhinoceros bird of considerable size and legendary age, who has often helped the Greenblooms in the conservation of South-East Asian fabulous creatures.

  Synnefo, a Pegasus mare, companion of Ànemos.

  Synnefo, Chara, Ouranos, Pegasus foals, the endangered children of Ànemos and Synnefo.

  Tabuhan, macaque from Shrii’s retinue.

  Tallemaja, the cook at MÍMAMEIĐR, who is also a huldra.

  TerTaWa, a gibbon, faithful companion of Shrii.