AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So amusing she’s liable to bite off a couple of your twenty fingers!” snapped Sorrel.
Burr-Burr-Chan turned to look at her, grinning broadly. “No mushroom can grow on stone,” he said. “This species grows on wood. We cultivate it in our caves. Don’t you cultivate mushrooms yourself?”
“No,” growled Sorrel. “So what if I don’t?” she added crossly, thumping the other brownie’s back.
“Stop squabbling, Sorrel!” Firedrake called back to her. “I have to think.”
Looking offended, Sorrel bent her head and went on nibbling her mushroom. “Has to think, does he?” she muttered. “Too right. Like what’s he going to do if that monster comes after us? There won’t be much time to think then. Is he planning to fight him or what?” Uneasily she spat into the depths below.
“What do you mean fight?” Ben put his head over her shoulder.
“Oh, forget it,” growled Sorrel. “Only thinking out loud.” She stared gloomily at the mountains as they came closer and closer.
Ben pulled Twigleg’s little cap made from the glove thumb-piece down over the manikin’s ears and wrapped him a little more snugly in his lambskin. It was getting colder and colder the higher Firedrake climbed, and Ben was very grateful for the warm clothing the monks had given them. He wished he could feel glad they were so close to their journey’s end, but he kept thinking of Nettlebrand.
Suddenly Ben felt something touch his shoulder. Whipping around in alarm, he was just in time to catch Lola Graytail by her long tail. “Hey, what are you doing here, Lola?” he asked.
“Thinking of throwing me overboard, were you?” replied the rat, her teeth chattering. “It’s too cold in my plane. The heating only works when I’m flying. Any space for me in your backpack, by any chance?”
“Of course.” Ben tucked the shivering rat in among his things. “What about the plane, though?”
“It’s tied well into place on Firedrake’s tail,” replied Lola. With a sigh of relief, she snuggled down inside the backpack until only her ears and pointed nose were sticking out.
“Must I fly higher, Burr-Burr-Chan?” called Firedrake as the wind blew more strongly than ever around their heads.
“Yes,” Burr-Burr-Chan called back. “The pass we have to cross is a little farther up, and there’s no other way into the valley.”
Ben felt his heartbeat thudding in his ears as Firedrake rose yet higher. Night pressed its dark fists against his temples. Breathing was difficult, and Sorrel was curled up like a little cat. Only Burr-Burr-Chan sat upright and at ease. He was used to these high altitudes, for he had been born in the mountains known to humans as the Roof of the World.
o;Your Goldness!” he called softly. “Your Goldness, I’m back.”
Snorting, Nettlebrand rose from the river.
“Well, what did you find out?” he growled, shaking the mud off his scales.
“Everything!” replied Gravelbeard proudly. “The dragons have been hiding, Your Goldness! That’s why you couldn’t find them all these years! They hid away in a cave inside a mountain. You ought to have taken a mountain dwarf along when you went looking for them before. We can find any cave anywhere!”
“So where is this cave, then?” Nettlebrand asked impatiently.
“You have to cross that mountain,” replied Gravelbeard portentously. “The one with the monastery built on its side. Then you turn east, and then,” he said, grinning triumphantly, “then you come to the mountain range they call the Rim of Heaven. The entrance to the cave is in the valley beyond it.”
Nettlebrand reared up, hardly able to believe it, and water dripped from his huge body. “In that valley, you say?” he roared. “But I know the place. I’ve searched and searched there until my claws were worn right down. Huh!” He licked his lips and chortled. “The fools — they couldn’t have chosen a better place!”
“What do you mean, Your Goldness?” asked Gravelbeard curiously.
“You’ll soon see!” Nettlebrand snorted happily. “Has the silver dragon set off yet?”
Gravelbeard shrugged his shoulders and looked at Nettlebrand’s muddy scales, frowning. “Probably. He was planning to take off as soon as darkness fell. But you’ll soon find him. Just let me clean your scales first, Your Goldness. I can hardly see their beautiful golden glow.”
“Forget the golden glow!” Nettlebrand snapped. “Come here and get into my mouth.” He laid his terrible muzzle on the bank and opened his jaws wide.
“Oh, no!” Gravelbeard retreated defiantly. “You want to swallow me again.”
“Of course I do!” growled Nettlebrand. “I have to dive deep, a long, long way down, so get a move on, will you?”
“But I don’t like it in there!” whimpered Gravelbeard as he approached Nettlebrand’s mighty teeth, his knees shaking.
“Why not? I thought you mountain dwarves liked caves, and what’s my stomach but a large cave?” replied Nettlebrand nastily. “Come on, jump!”
