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“We’re going to make it!” shouted Burr-Burr-Chan. “See that? There’s the highest ridge, ahead of us!”
Firedrake shot through the pass and over it, leaving the howling wind behind at last — and flew into the Valley of the Dragons.
A lake lay there amid the mountains, a lake as round as the moon.
Zubeida Ghalib’s blue flowers grew on its banks. They glowed in the darkness of the night, making the valley look as if the stars had fallen into it from the sky above.
“By St. George’s mushroom and Caesar’s cap, too!” breathed Sorrel.
“We call that lake the Eye of the Moon!” called Burr-Burr-Chan as Firedrake made for the shimmering water. “Fly over it! Fly to where —”
But Twigleg interrupted. “No! Don’t — don’t fly over the water!” he shouted shrilly.
He struggled out of the lambskin. “You great furry fool!” he shouted at Burr-Burr-Chan. “You didn’t say anything about a lake! You didn’t breathe a word!”
“Who are you calling a great furry fool?” Burr-Burr-Chan turned around crossly, but the homunculus ignored him.
“Fly higher, Firedrake!” he croaked, tugging at the straps. “This lake is a gateway — an open gateway!”
But Firedrake had realized what he meant. Beating his wings strongly, he rose and headed toward the opposite bank. He looked down anxiously, but nothing seemed to be moving. Only a few snowflakes melted into the black waters. With a sudden jolt, the dragon landed on a rocky ledge many hundreds of meters above the shimmering flowers. Trembling, he folded his silver wings.
“I don’t see anything, Firedrake,” said Sorrel, looking intently into the night. “I really don’t.”
Annoyed, she turned to Twigleg, who was huddled in Ben’s lap, shivering. “That manikin will drive us crazy! How could his old master possibly get here so fast, may I ask?”
“Leave him alone,” said Ben brusquely. “Can’t you see he’s frozen?”
With stiff fingers that even the monks’ gloves could not keep warm, Ben reached for the thermos flask of tea and carefully gave Twigleg a sip. Then he had a sip himself. The peculiar taste almost turned his stomach, but a comfortable warmth spread through him.
Firedrake stood there, never taking his eyes off the surface of the lake.
“At any rate we have a head start on the monster,” whispered Sorrel. “He can’t fly.”
“We’d only have a head start if there wasn’t any water here, you stupid pointy-eared nitwit!” snapped Twigleg. He was not trembling quite so badly now that he had drunk a little hot tea. “Are you telling me that lake down there isn’t water? I warn you, he’s probably here already, watching us.”
For a moment they were all silenced by shock.
“Then we have a problem,” growled Burr-Burr-Chan. “I shouldn’t show you the way into the dragons’ cave if the Golden One is watching, right?”
“No.” Firedrake shook his head. “He’s learned too much from us already. We can approach the cave only when we know for certain that Nettlebrand isn’t around.” Anxiously he looked down at the lake. “Have we really led him here?” he murmured.
The valley was even more beautiful than he had imagined it in his dreams. Firedrake gazed at the Rim of Heaven, looking down at the sea of blue flowers covered with moon-dew and breathing in the fragrance that rose from them. Then he closed his eyes — and felt the presence of other dragons nearby. He sensed it clearly, as clearly as the scent of the flowers, as clearly as the cold night air.
Firedrake opened his eyes again, and they were dark with anger. A growl emerged from his throat. Alarmed, his friends looked at him.
“I will fly down,” said the dragon, “by myself. If Nettlebrand is there then he’ll come out.”
“Nonsense!” cried Sorrel, horrified. “What are you talking about? Even if he does come out, are you planning to tackle him on your own? He’d make a single mouthful of you, and we’ll be stuck here on this rock to the end of our days without any mushrooms. Is that what we flew halfway around the world for? No, if anyone’s going down it must be someone he won’t notice!”
“She’s right, Firedrake,” said Ben. “One of us must find out whether Nettlebrand’s lurking down there, and if he really is, then we must distract his attention so that you and Burr-Burr-Chan can reach the dragons’ cave unobserved.”
“Ex-act-ly!” Lola Graytail jumped out of Ben’s backpack, hopped up on his knee and spread her short forelegs wide. “I volunteer! No problem, rat’s honor! This is the ideal job for me!”
“Huh!” Sorrel poked her scornfully in the chest. “So you can come back and tell us he isn’t there, same as last time?”
The rat gave her a nasty look. “Anyone can make a mistake, fur-face,” she hissed. “But this time, I’ll take the humpleklumpus with me. He must know his old master’s tricky ways better than anyone, right?”
Twigleg gulped. “Me?” he asked. “Me, go in that plane? But—”
