Page 47 of Henrikk’s Secret

Henrikk had been dubious of its sturdiness, but he scaled the trunk of a palm tree the way he’d seen Asher do without hesitation. With his new elevation, Henrikk stared out at the vast ocean. It had always seemed calm to him, but that was because the waters nearby were sheltered by the reef. Beyond, however, tumultuous waves crashed against the outer edges of the reef in explosions of whitewash.

He scanned the horizon, hoping desperately that he was wrong.

He wasn’t.

Asher was there, so far away that he and the raft were mere specks being tossed about by increasingly larger waves.

If he could get beyond the waves, he might be all right.

If he’d had the foresight to pack supplies, he might not starve.

But then the dragon would find him, a sitting duck waiting to be swallowed by an underwater threat he wouldn’t see coming.

“Asher, you idiot!” Henrikk yelled, swinging off the platform and landing in the sand, stumbling slightly from the fall.

He raced towards the ocean; determination coursing through him even as it dawned on him that they were doomed. He was a good swimmer, but that would hardly matter when the powerful surge of waves dumped him onto sharp, unforgiving slabs of reef.

Besides, they were nearly out of time. The dragon would come for them soon.

Henrikk had no other choice. When it came to Asher, there was never any other choice but to go after him.

He charged into the water. It was low tide, and navigating the barely submerged coral was difficult. The tops of the reefs were too uneven and rocky to walk across, but the water too shallow to swim.

New cuts sliced his hands, feet, elbows and shins as he hurried over them. When he left the protection of the inner reef, he was met by dangerous waves that had seemed much smaller from the viewing platform.

He swam hard, diving through the base of the oncoming waves. They grew larger, and at one point, he was swept up in a massive, unprecedented wave, which sucked away every last droplet of water behind him, exposing the reef. Henrikk got one terrifying glimpse of the black, rocky landing that awaited him way, way down below.

Time seemed to stop as the crest of the wave held him high. He tried in vain to swim beyond the wave, but it was impossible, the merciless force of nature rivalling that of any magic.

Suddenly, something solid like a rock with gleaming spines appeared beneath him. The dark, scaly platform emerged from the water and propelled his body even higher whilst the wave crashed onto the reef below.

It was Dargotika, and Henrikk rested on top of her broad head. He was nestled in amongst sharp spines that caged him in, preventing him from sliding off the slippery scales.

The reef suddenly looked promising. He clambered to his feet and tried to pull the dragon’s spines apart, but they stiffened into an impenetrable wall. The dragon growled in irritation.

Fool. Only I will decide if you live or die.

Henrikk gasped as he slipped and fell onto his back, staring up in bewilderment at white clouds floating in a grey sky. He debated whether to tell Dargotika about Asher and his foolish rafting venture.

Better to brave the cruel ocean than an even crueller dragon, he decided.

But Dargotika already knew. The dragon shot through the water with remarkable speed, only her spiny head and back above water as her limp wings trailed uselessly behind. The dragon surged over waves and through them, the motion buffeting Henrikk about and causing him to roll backwards against a wall of spines.

He blocked his face with his arm against the onslaught of water spray.

Then they were beyond the waves, where the water was calmer. It felt like cruising, but much faster, with the wind whipping his face.

In the distance, Henrikk spotted something white and fluttery. It was Asher, a makeshift sail propelling his raft forward. The fact that he’d made it this far was impressive.

Relief filled Henrikk at the sight of Asher, a feeling that was quickly swallowed by dread as Dargotika barrelled towards the raft in a chaos of splashing waves.

“No!” Henrikk yelled over the roar of the wind, gripping a rough spine in each hand. “Give us more time. Only he can find the witch.”

Too late.

They were nearly upon Asher now, who was staring at the oncoming dragon in horror, no weapon in sight.

“Look at your wings! If only they weren’t so broken,” Henrikk taunted.