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“It’s too dark in here,” he said. “I’ll give us a bit more light.” Arching his long neck, he breathed fire. It ran hissing among the stones, licked its way up the dark walls, and blazed blue all the way to the roof. The whole dragon cave began to shine so brightly that for a moment, Ben had to half close his eyes. The moonstones shone down from the roof, the walls glowed, and dragon-fire collected in crackling flames on the tips of the stalactites and stalagmites.
“Yes!” cried Burr-Burr-Chan, raising his four arms in the air. “Yes, that’s just how it ought to look!”
Firedrake closed his muzzle and looked around.
“Firedrake,” whispered Ben, placing a hand on his scales, “there’s something back there. Do you see those eyes?”
“I know,” replied the dragon quietly. “They’ve been there for some time. Let’s wait.”
All was still for a few moments. Firedrake’s dragon-fire still burned among the stones, crackling and hissing. Then, suddenly, a dragon emerged from the stalactites and stalagmites at the back of the cave. This one was smaller than Firedrake, with more delicate limbs, but its scales shone with just the same silvery gleam.
“It’s a she-dragon,” whispered Sorrel. “You can tell by the horns. They’re straight, not curved like Firedrake’s.”
Ben nodded.
The she-dragon snuffled and moved tentatively toward Firedrake. For a moment or so they stood looking at each other in silence.
“You’re not golden,” the she-dragon said at last, in a hoarse voice.
Firedrake shook his head. “No,” he replied. “I’m like you.”
“I — I wasn’t sure,” said the she-dragon uncertainly. “I’ve never seen the Golden One myself, but I’ve heard terrible tales of him. He’s said to be very cunning, and sometimes he has small creatures with him.” She looked curiously first at Sorrel, then at Burr-Burr-Chan.
“These are brownies,” said Firedrake. “You must have heard of them, too.”
The she-dragon frowned. “The stories say they let us down when we most needed their help.”
“What?” cried Burr-Burr-Chan indignantly. “We never —”
Firedrake looked at him and shook his head. “Don’t upset yourself,” he said. “There’ll be time for explanations later.”
“Where are the others?” asked Ben, stepping out of Firedrake’s shadow.
The she-dragon retreated in surprise. “The dragon rider,” she whispered. “The dragon rider is back!”
Ben bowed his head shyly.
“You ask where the others are?” The she-dragon bent over him until the tip of her muzzle almost touched his nose. “They’re here. Look around you.”
Baffled, Ben looked past her. “Where?”
“There,” replied the she-dragon, nodding toward the cave behind him.
Sorrel whistled. “Yes,” she whispered. “She’s right. There they are.” She climbed up on one of the mounds of rock that looked like crested dragon backs and patted the scaly stone. For once, she was speechless. Firedrake and the others looked up at her incredulously.
Ben put out his hand and touched the gray rock tails and bowed necks of the dragons. The she-dragon came up behind him.
“There were twenty-three of us,” she said, “but I am the only one left. Maia the Reckless, they always called me. Moonstruck Maia.” She shook her head sadly.
Firedrake turned to her. “What happened?”
“They didn’t go out anymore,” replied Maia in a low voice. “They stopped flying in the moonlight. And very slowly, they changed. I warned them. I said forgetting the moon is more dangerous than the golden dragon. But they wouldn’t listen to me. They became tired, sluggish, bad-tempered. They laughed at me when I went out in the moonlight or flew over the lake on nights when the moon was full. They were forever repeating the old tale of the golden dragon who would destroy us all if we didn’t hide from him. ‘Careful,’ they used to say when I wanted to go out, ‘he’s out there. He’s lying in wait for us.’ But he never was. I told them so. ‘Remember,’ I said, ‘remember there’s another story, the tale of the dragon rider who will come back on the day when silver is worth more than gold, and with his aid we’ll defeat the golden dragon.’ But they only shook their heads and said the dragon rider was dead and gone and would never return.” She looked at Ben. “I was right, though. The dragon rider has come back.”
“Perhaps,” said Firedrake, looking at the dragons now turned to stone. “But someone else is back, too. Nettlebrand is here as well. Nettlebrand the golden dragon.”
“He followed us,” added Sorrel. “He’s down there in the lake.”
Horrified, Maia looked at them. “The golden dragon?” she asked blankly. “So he really exists? And he’s here?”
