Dragon Rider

  The young dragons looked at him in surprise. The rest of them, however, raised their heads and looked eastward, their eyes full of longing.

  “The Rim of Heaven.” Slatebeard closed his eyelids. “Its mountains are so tall that they touch the sky. Moonstone caves lie hidden among its slopes, and the floor of the valley in the middle of the mountains is covered with blue flowers. When you were children we told you stories about the Rim of Heaven. You may have thought they were fairy tales, but some of us have actually been there.”

  He opened his eyes again. “I was born there, so long ago that eternities lie between that memory and me. I was younger than most of you are now when I flew away, tempted by the wide sky. I flew westward, on and on. I have never dared to fly in the sunlight since. I had to hide from humans who thought I was a bird of the devil. I tried to go back to the Rim, but I could never find the way.”

  The old dragon looked at his young companions. “Seek the Rim of Heaven! Go back to the security of its peaks, and then perhaps you will never have to flee from humans again. They aren’t here yet,” he said, nodding toward the dark mountaintops around the valley, “but they will come soon. I have felt it for a long time. Don’t linger. Fly! Fly away!”

  All was perfectly still again. Drizzling rain as fine as dust fell from the sky.

  Sorrel hunched her head between her shoulders, shivering. “Oh, thanks a million,” she whispered to Firedrake. “The Rim of Heaven, eh? Sounds too good to be true. If you ask me, the old boy dreamed it up.”

  Firedrake did not reply but looked up at Slatebeard thoughtfully. Then he suddenly stepped forward.

  “Hey!” whispered Sorrel in alarm. “What’s the idea? Don’t do anything silly.”

  But Firedrake took no notice. “You’re right, Slatebeard,” he said. “In any case I’m tired of living in hiding, never flying outside this valley.” He turned to the others. “Let us look for the Rim of Heaven. Come on, let’s set out today. The moon is waxing. There’ll be no better night for us.”

  The others shuddered as if he had taken leave of his senses. But Slatebeard smiled for the first time that night. “You’re still rather young, Firedrake,” he pointed out.

  “I’m old enough,” replied Firedrake, raising his head a little higher. He was not much smaller than the old dragon, but his horns were shorter and his scales shone in the moonlight.

  “Here, hang on! Wait a mo!” Sorrel scrambled hastily up Firedrake’s neck. “What’s all this nonsense? You may have flown beyond these hills all of ten times, but,” she said, spreading out her arms and pointing to the mountains around them, “but you’ve no idea what lies farther off. You can’t just fly away through the human world, looking for a place that may not even exist.”

  “Be quiet, Sorrel,” said Firedrake crossly.

  “Won’t!” spat the brownie girl. “See the others? Do they look as if they want to fly away? No! So forget it. If human beings really come I’m sure I can find us a nice new cave!”

  “Yes, listen to her,” said one of the other dragons, moving closer to Firedrake. “There’s no such place as the Rim of Heaven except in Slatebeard’s dreams. The world belongs to humans. If we hide here they may leave us in peace. And if they really do come to our valley, well, we’ll just have to chase them away.”

  At this Rat laughed. Her laughter was shrill and loud. “Ever tried turning back the tide?” she asked.

  But the dragon who had spoken did not answer her. “Come on,” he told the others, and he turned and went back through the pouring rain to his cave. They followed him one by one, until only Firedrake and the old dragon were left. Slatebeard, his legs stiff, climbed down from the rock and looked at Firedrake. “I can see why they think the Rim of Heaven is only a dream,” he said. “There’s many a day when it seems like a dream to me, too.”

  Firedrake shook his head. “I’ll find it,” he said and looked around. “Even if Rat is wrong and the human beings stay where they are, there must be some place where we won’t have to hide. And when I have found it I’ll come back and fetch the rest of you. I’ll set out tonight.”

  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

  Slatebeard 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.

&
nbsp; “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

  “Oh, 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, wh
atever 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?”