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“Quick, climb aboard,” he called as the wind blew beneath his wings, raising them in the air. “We must try it.”
Sorrel grabbed Twigleg and the backpacks and climbed up on Firedrake’s back. The dragon spread his wings, took off— and flew.
“It works!” cried Twigleg, clutching Sorrel’s furry arm. “Thank goodness!”
Firedrake felt as strong as if the full moon were in the sky. He shot past the rocks, rising higher and higher, his shadow passing over the mountains in the full light of day. They soon reached the mountain range that looked like a dragon’s back. Five peaks rose into the blue sky, casting their shadows on the valleys and ravines below. Firedrake looked around, searching for some sign.
“Oh, beastly blewits!” groaned Sorrel. “Even a giant bird will be harder to spot here than a truffle in the forest.”
“But we must find him!” wailed Twigleg, wringing his little hands. “Oh, please!”
Firedrake flew into the first ravine.
“Ben!” shouted Sorrel. “Ben, can you hear us?”
“Answer us, young master!” cried Twigleg.
Firedrake put his head back and uttered a roar such as Sorrel had never heard from him before. The dragon’s cry resounded from the rocks, echoed through the ravines, and died away only in the far distance. But not even Sorrel’s keen ears could hear any answer.
“I’ve read about that bird!” moaned Twigleg. “In the professor’s book. It’s the giant roc. We’ve attracted it the way we attracted the basilisk and the sea serpent! Oh, what terrible luck!”
“You talk too much, little titch!” Sorrel snapped at him. “Knowing the bird’s name isn’t going to help us. We must find it, so shut your mouth and keep your eyes open.”
“Yes, yes!” wailed Twigleg. “But suppose it’s already eaten the young master?”
No one answered that question.
35. The Nest of the Giant Roc
But the bird had not eaten Ben yet.
It carried him farther and farther into the mountains. Ben hardly dared to look down. At first, he had fought against the sharp claws, but now he was clinging to them for dear life, terrified that the bird might see some juicier prey and let go of him.
He had never felt dizzy on Firedrake’s back, but it was a completely different feeling to be dangling helplessly in the air with nothing below him, nothing but empty sky.
He was bird food. This was not the way he had imagined the end of his journey. Ben gritted his teeth, but they kept on chattering, whether because of the wind or his terror he couldn’t have said. Suddenly the giant bird was flying toward a rugged rock wall. It rose higher and higher, and let Ben drop.
Screaming, Ben plummeted down to land in a mighty nest perched on top of a peak like an untidy crown. The nest was made of uprooted tree trunks. In the middle of it, on a thick cushion of feathers, sat a huge chick. It greeted its mother with a hoarse caw and opened its beak wide, but she was already spreading her wings to fly off in search of more prey.
The chick turned its head, which was covered with little more than fluffy down, and glared hungrily at Ben.
“No!” Ben murmured. “Oh, no!”
He looked desperately around. There was only one way to save himself from that hungry beak. He jumped up and struggled through the feathers toward the edge of the nest.
Seeing its meal trying to get away, the chick squawked angrily. Its giant beak pecked at Ben, who managed to throw himself aside just in time. Desperately he burrowed under the feathers and kept crawling until his fingers came up against the side of the nest. Just as he was trying to wriggle in among the tree trunks to take shelter, the chick caught hold of his leg. With the last of his strength Ben managed to pull it free, and he scrambled in among the tangle of branches.
The chick jerked its head in surprise, straightened up clumsily, and started pecking at the side of the nest. But Ben had crawled so far into the branches that its beak couldn’t reach him. The chick pecked more and more furiously. It tore away whole tree trunks, but every time it came close to Ben’s hiding place he thrust his way into the next gap. The twigs and branches were almost impaling him. They tore his clothes and scratched his face, but anything was better than ending up in that hungry beak.
The furious chick had already pecked half the side of the nest to pieces when Ben suddenly heard a mighty roar echoing through the ravines, so loud and angry a roar that the monstrous chick turned its scrawny neck in alarm. It’s Firedrake! thought Ben. I’m sure it is! His heart beat faster — this time for joy. Then he heard someone calling his name.
“Sorrel!” he cried. “I’m here, Sorrel. Up here!”
The young roc bird swung its head to look his way again, but Ben managed to wriggle out through the branches until he could peer down into the ravine. Firedrake was coming. Wings rushing, he shot toward the giant nest with Sorrel crouched on his back, waving her fists in the air.
“Here we come!” she shouted. “Don’t let it eat you!”
Beating his wings vigorously, Firedrake landed on the edge of the nest, as close as possible to where Ben was sheltering. The huge chick retreated in fright. It uttered a hoarse croak and opened its beak menacingly. Ben was alarmed to see that Firedrake wasn’t much bigger than the chick. But when it tried lunging at Ben again, the dragon bared his teeth and roared so threateningly that it flinched back in terror.
