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Barnabas Greenbloom returned Ben’s gaze thoughtfully. “Does she? Well, in your place I’d put my faith in what the djinn showed you. Let’s try to decipher his directions. Come on!” Putting an arm around Ben’s shoulders, he led him toward the great flight of steps leading up to the main monastery building. “I want to introduce you to someone. I’ve told him all about your quest, and he’s been expecting you for some time.”
Firedrake and Sorrel followed the two of them up the long flight of steps.
“This is the Dhu-Khang,” explained Barnabas Greenbloom when they reached the heavy front door. It was painted with strange figures, and the handle was skillfully made of wrought iron. “It’s the monks’ prayer and assembly hall, although it’s not very much like our churches at home. There’s a lot of laughter here — it’s a cheerful place.”
Then he pushed open the heavy door.
The hall they entered was so high that even Firedrake could stand upright in it. Although it was dark, countless lamps burned in the great room, their flames flickering. Tall columns supported the ceiling. The walls were painted, and large pictures hung among shelves full of ancient books. The pictures were so strange and brightly colored that Ben would have liked to stop and study each of them, but the professor led them on. Rows of low seats stood among the columns, and a small man with short gray hair was waiting for them in the front row. He wore a bright red robe, and he smiled as the professor and Ben approached him.
o;That’s it!” whispered Ben. “That’s what it looked like. Exactly like that.”
Lola Graytail’s plane was humming along beside him. The rat opened the cockpit and leaned out.
“Hey!” she shouted over the noise of the propeller. “Is that the place?”
Ben nodded.
Satisfied, Lola closed the cockpit and flew on ahead. Her plane made much better speed than the others had expected, but for the dragon, this was the easiest flight of the whole journey. He soared silently over the wide valley, left the river behind, and rose toward the high monastery walls.
There were several buildings, both large and small, clustered together on the cliff. Ben saw tall, windowless stone turrets rising upward, dark and narrow windows, shallow roofs, high walls, and pathways winding like ribbons of rock down the mountainside.
“Where should I land?” Firedrake called to the rat.
“In the courtyard in front of the main building,” Lola called back. “You’ll have nothing to fear from these people. Anyway, they’ll all be asleep at this time of night. I’ll go first.”
With a loud humming noise, the little plane swooped down.
“Look, look!” cried Sorrel as Firedrake circled above the courtyard in front of the largest building. “There’s the professor!”
The dragon descended through the night air. As they landed, a tall figure rose from the steps leading up to the main monastery building and strode toward Firedrake.
“My word, have I been worried!” cried Professor Greenbloom. “Where’ve you been all this time?” His voice echoed around the ancient walls, but still nothing stirred apart from a few mice scurrying over the stones.
“We were delayed — had to save our little human here from ending up inside a giant bird,” Sorrel told him as she clambered off Firedrake’s back with her backpack.
“What?” The professor looked up at Ben in alarm.
“It wasn’t so bad,” said Ben, sliding down the dragon’s tail.
“Not so bad?” cried the professor when he and Ben were face-to-face. “Good heavens, you’re scratched all over.”
“Scratched but not eaten alive,” Sorrel pointed out. “That’s something, right?”
“Well, yes, if you look at it that way.” Barnabas Greenbloom took a step backward and almost stepped on the rat’s plane.
“Hey, look out!” squeaked Lola shrilly. “Watch where you’re stepping, can’t you, you great clumsy lump.”
The startled professor turned around. Lola Graytail clambered out of her cockpit and jumped down in front of him, landing heavily. “Hello, Professor. I’ve heard a lot about you!” she said.
“You have? I hope it was all good.” Professor Greenbloom went down on one knee and shook the rat’s paw gently. “And whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?” he asked.
Feeling flattered, Lola giggled. “Graytail,” she replied. “Lola Graytail, pilot, cartographer, and on this occasion, foreign tour guide.”
“We flew slightly off course,” explained Sorrel, joining the two of them. “How was your own journey, Professor?”
“Oh, peaceful enough.” Barnabas Greenbloom stood up with a sigh. “But Guinevere says —” He paused, scratching his head and looking up at the dark windows of the monastery. “Although to be honest I don’t know if I ought to tell you this —”
“Guinevere says what?” asked Ben. Twigleg leaned against his cheek, yawning.
