‘But we’re moving,’ Taggie complained.

  ‘Aye, but barely, and we manoeuvre with the grace of a harpooned loxraptor. This is no way to fly. We need all three masts for any long voyage. And we’re still a good fortnight out from Wynate – that’s with a good wind.’

  Taggie gave Lord Colgath an uncertain glance. ‘People are going to be looking for us.’

  ‘Aye, I know. We’ll steer clear of the major isles. Guatigua isn’t far from here, maybe a day’s sailing at this speed.’

  ‘And how long will it take to replace the mast?’ Lord Colgath asked.

  ‘If the shipyards have the right timber in, no more than a day.’

  ‘We can probably risk that.’

  ‘We don’t have a lot of choice.’ Captain Rebecca glanced over at the wind current charts pinned to the lounge wall. ‘I’ll start plotting a course to Guatigua.’

  Guatigua was surprisingly verdant, with a thick forest of tall sturdy trees forming a collar round a rocky pinnacle which protruded from the end of the isle like a mountain peak. The town was small, and sprawled like a three-limbed starfish in the hollows between steep ridges. There were two other ships berthed at the port park’s single tower when the Angelhawk arrived.

  Taggie asked Jemima to cast her rune stones, but there was nothing questionable about the ships. So Taggie and Captain Rebecca went to see the isle’s lone shipwright, an enterprise run by an old skyman called Hoolonde.

  ‘I’d like the work, of course,’ he said them as they stood in the middle of his high workshop, surrounded by carpentry benches. ‘And the tail sails are easy enough to fix. But I haven’t got the timber for a mast. It’s the comet, you see. I fitted three new masts last week for captains who have sailed to chase it.’

  ‘When’s your next load due?’ Captain Rebecca asked.

  ‘The Gollarie normally brings my wood in from Rorbotha or Kanaba. She should swing by in another month or so.’

  ‘Another month?’ Taggie exclaimed in dismay. ‘But there are hundreds of trees in the forest here. I saw them when we approached. Can’t we chop down one?’

  Hoolonde sucked down a breath. ‘That’s olri-gi land,’ he said. ‘They like to keep the forest for birds to nest in. There’s all sorts of parrots and turkeys and dodos and swans and cockooahs, even some geese.’

  ‘Why do they want them?’

  ‘To eat, of course. Takes a lot to fill an olri-gi’s stomach.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, dispirited. ‘There has to be some other timber, somewhere.’

  ‘If there was, I’d be able to buy it for you,’ Hoolonde said. ‘Sorry, but you’ll just have to wait for the Gollarie.’

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ Taggie said as they walked away from the shipwright. ‘Do you think I could ask the olri-gi for a tree? I know they used to help humans in the Outer Realm against the Karraks. And the War Emperor was talking about calling them to help his war. Perhaps if I told them how important this flight was?’

  Captain Rebecca shrugged expressively. ‘’Tis a beautiful folly, young Queen. But I suppose we have nothing to lose.’

  Half an hour later, Taggie was picking her way across the isle’s small fields towards the forest beyond, with Jemima tagging along beside her.

  ‘Any of these would probably do,’ Taggie said as they walked along a narrow track in the forest. Big trees towered overhead, their wide branches casting thick shadows across the ground. Birds were flying everywhere, warbling and squawking. The vines that webbed the trees were already showing off a multitude of brightly coloured flowers. Now with the Blossom Princess herself walking among them, even more buds burst open in welcome. The sunlight shining past the leaves slowly transformed into a glorious rainbow dapple.

  As they carried on through the forest, Taggie’s nerves did strange things to her stomach. It wasn’t just that their voyage depended on getting one of the trees. These were dragons they were going to talk to; fire-breathing creatures that were notoriously short-tempered.

  ‘They’ll give us a tree, I’m sure,’ Jemima said confidently. As soon as Taggie had announced she was visiting the olri-gi, Jemima had pleaded to come with her. ‘To see real dragons,’ she’d said delightedly.

  Maklepine and Captain Rebecca had both winced at that. ‘You’re not to call them that,’ they insisted. ‘They really don’t like it. Really. Don’t.’

  The forest ended, giving way to a broad expanse of naked rock.

  ‘This way,’ Jemima said without hesitation.

  Taggie followed her sister, knowing better than to question. They were walking towards the isle’s pinnacle. It was hard going, the rock had many deep narrow gullies and awkward snags. Eventually, about quarter of a mile from the apex, Jemima stopped outside a cave entrance wider than a train tunnel back in the Outer Realm.

  Taggie stood there, looking into the darkness with growing tension as she waited to see what would emerge, her imagination bringing up all sorts of unwelcome thoughts.

  Soon enough, she heard a rustling sound from inside the entrance. Shadows moved inside the darkness. Taggie forced her legs to stay put. Those were big shadows.

  An olri-gi emerged out into the light.

  Taggie knew what dragons looked like. Everybody did. They were lizards the size of elephants, with a crocodile-shaped head, and leathery wings sprouting from their shoulders.

  But this creature . . . Taggie’s mouth dried up and she took a step back, partly from confusion and partly from shock. An olri-gi, she thought, was like a manta ray reborn as a fighter jet, a sleek long aerodynamic triangle. Its head was a simple wedge, with golden multi-faceted eyes on top, and a wide curving mouth underneath.

  Most worrying were the two long tails that extended from the rear just above the hindlegs. They were segmented, bending like springs, and tipped with the most lethal-looking stings she’d ever seen – longer than swords, sharper than razors.

  ‘The skyfolk are right,’ Jemima said in a very tiny voice. ‘That is not a dragon.’

  The apex of the olri-gi’s head halted a couple of metres from Taggie. Unnerving golden eyes regarded her solemnly. All Taggie could do was stare up at the nostril slits that were pointing at her, wondering if she’d see the fire as it came shooting out . . .

  ‘Your Grace,’ Taggie said, just remembering in time the correct form of address.

  The olri-gi sniffed. ‘Human royalty,’ it said in a voice that was like the rumble of a storm’s first thunder. ‘You are royalty.’ The giant head shifted round to Jemima, whose lower lip was trembling. ‘As is this little one. Never in my drove’s history has one human royal visited this isle. Now two, in the time of the largest comet in a generation. Your kind talk of omens. They may be right.’

  Taggie bowed. ‘I am the Queen of Dreams, and I thank you for seeing us.’ She looked from the olri-gi’s nozzles to the stings. If it could breathe flames, why did it need stings?

  ‘And I am Canri, drove leader.’

  ‘I have a request, Your Grace. My ship’s mast is broken. The shipwright has no timber. I need a tree and will be happy to pay.’

  Canri’s head withdrew. A ripple moved slowly down the length of his sinuous body. ‘Your coins pay for comforts we cannot fashion for ourselves, and such exchanges help our kind to live harmoniously. But most of my drove have left. They answered the call of the Highlord, who himself answered the call of the War Emperor. They fly to war, Queen of Dreams, they hunger for the taste of rathwai in their teeth. I do not fly with them. I am shamed because of a simple fight with a loxraptor flock. One ill-judged turn left my hindleg damaged. None but the stoutest and most able should fly against rathwai being ridden by the Dark Lords and Ladies.’

  ‘I’m sorry about your leg,’ Taggie said. She noticed the back of the olri-gi’s hindlegs had a membrane stretched between them and the underbelly, which gave it twin tailfins for stability in flight. One of them was badly torn, and Canri limped when he walked on it.

  ‘And I am sorry about your tree. But
I have no appetite for your coins while I await to hear the fate of my children. Ships will come. They will bring timber from another forest for you to make your new mast.’

  ‘We’ve got to have a tree, Your Grace,’ Jemima blurted. ‘We’re going to stop the war.’

  ‘Jem,’ Taggie warned.

  ‘But it’s true!’

  ‘How would you stop the war?’ Canri asked. ‘It is the command of the War Emperor.’

  ‘I believe him to be wrong,’ Taggie said. ‘Thousands will die, including olri-gi. And all for nothing.’

  Canri shuffled his front feet, and looked straight at her. ‘How will you stop the war, Queen of Dreams?’

  The sheer force of the olri-gi’s demand made it difficult for Taggie to return his golden stare. He had a dignified presence that was truly awesome. ‘I know where Mirlyn’s Gate is,’ she said carefully. ‘If we can open it, the Karrak Lords and Ladies will be able to go home.’

  ‘I see your valour, young Queen. But that is an impossible dream. They would never leave.’

  ‘Yes they would,’ Jemima said. ‘One of them is helping us.’

  Canri exhaled and Jemima jumped in fear. ‘Don’t burn us,’ she squeaked. ‘We’re trying to stop people from dying.’

  The olri-gi raised its head. ‘What do you mean, burn you?’

  Jemima gave Canri a puzzled look. ‘Well, you’re a . . . You breathe fire. I thought.’

  Canri’s laugh was like a boulder crashing down a rock face. ‘You believe I breathe out fire, little royal?’

  ‘Well . . . Don’t you?’

  ‘I don’t exhale flame, I expel it!’

  ‘Er, what’s the difference?’

  Canri blinked. ‘Are you a good runner, little royal?’

  ‘Yes. I’m in the hundred-metres relay team at school. We made it to the national finals.’

  ‘Next time you run: spit.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Spit when you’re running. Then tell me where it lands.’

  ‘Well, it would just hit my face, of course,’ Jemima said indignantly.

  ‘Indeed. And if you breathed flame out of your mouth when you’re flying, where would the flame go?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Jemima scrunched her lips up as she considered the dilemma. ‘But you just said you do expel flame.’

  ‘I do, when I need to. But not forward.’

  Jemima tilted her head to one side and regarded the huge olri-gi curiously.

  With growing alarm, Taggie could see her sister’s thoughts working. Realization began to shine in Jemima’s delighted eyes.

  ‘Jem!’ she growled threateningly.

  ‘You mean . . .’ Jemima’s smile widened to show her teeth.

  Taggie made urgent zipping motions across her mouth.

  ‘You mean . . .’ Jemima started to giggle. The giggle turned into a hysterical laugh. ‘You mean you fart flame?’ Jemima broke up, shrieking helplessly.

  ‘I expel my flame behind me,’ Canri explained with phenomenal dignity. ‘Yes.’

  That set off another round of giggling.

  ‘I apologize for my sister, Your Grace,’ Taggie said angrily. ‘She has a simple mind and doesn’t realize when she’s being extremely rude.’

  ‘Fart flame,’ Jemima sniggered.

  Taggie wanted the ground to open up and swallow Jemima whole. The charmsward obediently began to make those particular spells available. It was very tempting.

  ‘Your culture is different,’ Canri said. ‘And she is a child.’

  ‘Thank you for your understanding,’ Taggie said, red-faced. ‘And thank you for your time.’ She started to turn away.

  Jemima stopped giggling. She saw Taggie’s lowered head, and knew exactly how crushed her sister was. They desperately needed that tree.

  Her humour turned to anguish. I’ve done it again, she realized. I’ve let everyone down. A few seconds ago she’d been laughing uncontrollably, now she thought she might cry. She was so angry with herself, almost as much as she was ashamed.

  ‘Wait,’ she blurted. ‘Before we go, I want to help you, Your Grace.’ Then at least I’ll have done one thing right today.

  The olri-gi’s head lined up on her. ‘How can you help me, little royal?’

  ‘Your leg,’ she said. ‘I’d like to try.’

  Jemima hurried round to Canri’s hindleg, suddenly very conscious of the segmented tail curling above her. The membrane was badly tattered, flapping like one of the Angelhawk’s loose sails. She laid her hands on the leg, closing her eyes so she might feel the warm skin, which despite looking so smooth was actually quite rough to the touch. And through her questing fingertips she could somehow feel the torn tendons, the fractured bone, the scabs along the membrane where loxraptor claws had torn. Somewhere in the distance the olri-gi’s mighty heart thumped reassuringly.

  As always when she touched an injury, something stirred inside her. She guided that strange, gentle force out, sending it to soak into the olri-gi’s bruised and hurting flesh, easing and soothing. An ethereal balm that cooled inflamed tissue and encouraged the huge creature’s flesh towards recovery.

  Jemima shuddered, suddenly feeling cold and tired.

  ‘Find yourself the finest tree in the forest,’ Canri said. ‘And use it for your new mast.’

  A weary Jemima looked up at his great golden eyes. ‘I didn’t do it for that, Your Grace,’ she said.

  ‘I know. And that is why the tree is my gift, also freely given. There is enough dishonesty and selfishness in this universe, Blossom Princess. Kindness should always be encouraged, especially in one as young as yourself. I would hate your character to grow disheartened from exposure to greed and deceit.’

  ‘You are most kind, Your Grace,’ Taggie said, feeling enormously relieved. ‘Your gift will allow us to reach the isle before it’s too late.’

  ‘Which isle are you sailing to?’ Canri asked.

  ‘Oh, we’re going to Wynate,’ Jemima said. ‘That’s where Mirlyn’s Gate is hidden.’ She paused. ‘We think it is. Well . . . hope, really.’

  Another ripple ran along Canri’s body, straightening the tails. ‘You do know what awaits you there, don’t you, young Queen?’

  ‘Yes,’ Taggie said with a sigh. ‘We do.’

  ‘And why is it you alone that seeks Mirlyn’s Gate to prevent the war?’ Canri asked.

  Taggie settled down on the rock, and told him the whole story.

  Hoolonde was better than his word. Spurred on by a shortage of work, and Taggie’s promise of a hefty bonus, one team of his carpenters took seventeen hours from cutting down the tree to fashion it into a mast and fit it to the lower deck. Another team repaired the Angelhawk’s tail sails in a mere eight hours.

  The speed of the turnaround was probably for the best. The whole town was extremely interested to know more about the young girl who’d convinced Canri to let her cut down one of his trees, and the sister with the gift of healing. Many people were finding excuses to visit the tower, hoping for a glimpse.

  ‘How did they know?’ a puzzled Jemima asked as she watched from the lower deck as another group of people were politely turned back from the base of the tower.

  Felix tipped his head towards the captain, who was currently harassing Patrina and Ormanda as they carried new supplies to the galley. ‘Guess. Who’s the biggest teller of stories onboard?’

  ‘She wouldn’t tell anyone about our quest, would she?’

  Felix chittered his teeth. ‘Well, she hasn’t yet. That’s got to be good.’

  With the repairs finished and fresh stores onboard, Captain Rebecca gave the orders to make ready.

  ‘Currents are slow,’ she said, studying the way distant clouds scudded through the sky. ‘But no worry, there’ll be a pressure surge or a storm drift we can catch. One thing’s always for certain in this beautiful Realm, the sky is never still.’ She smiled happily, and took the helm wheel.

  ‘Captain,’ Maklepine called. ‘We have visitors.’

 
‘Huh?’ Captain Rebecca spun round.

  Floating inside the net of the upper deck, Taggie felt herself tense, the memories of launching from Banmula and what it cost them were all too fresh. She heard the crew gasp in delight, and twisted until she was facing the forest end of the isle. Three black triangles were approaching. A slow smile broke out on her face as she saw how fast they moved.

  Canri’s lithe body seemed to ripple as his wings undulated with a steady beat. The two sting tails waved from side to side, complementing the sinuous way he powered through the air. Then his wings were curving back, and he slithered to a halt. A few small ripples ran down his body, which manoeuvred his head right up to the net around mid-deck.

  ‘My greetings to you on this new day, young Queen,’ he said.

  Taggie smiled at the great golden eyes on the other side of the net. ‘Your Grace.’

  ‘Blossom Princess, your healing power is a beautiful blessing. My leg hurts no more. I thank you for that.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Jemima said, feeling immeasurably proud.

  ‘And the tree makes a sturdy mast, Your Grace,’ Captain Rebecca said respectfully. ‘We should catch some fine winds.’

  ‘Wind alone may not be enough for the young Queen’s compassionate quest to succeed. I am here to offer myself and Flencen and Loarva from my drove as your escort.’

  ‘Thank you so much,’ Taggie said, beaming at the gigantic olri-gi.

  ‘Many peoples have helped you this far,’ Canri said. ‘I feel it is now the turn of the olri-gi to share some of the burden.’

  ‘We need a good wind from darkwards, Your Grace,’ Captain Rebecca said.

  ‘And we will find you one,’ Canri said. ‘Make sail, and I will accompany you while Flencen and Loarva find your current.’

  With Captain Rebecca shouting her orders at the crew, the Angelhawk launched effectively from the tower. Tipsails caught the breeze, pushing her away from the wharf. Midsails quickened her pace. They steered in a wide curve, soaring over the town, then straight up away from the isle. Glancing darkwards, Taggie glimpsed the comet with its long tail shimmering red against the starry dark blue sky. It was a lot brighter than it had been just a couple of days ago.