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‘Shrii asked me to take you to him.’ The gibbon could hardly speak, he was smiling so broadly. ‘Shrii Dragonfriend! Shrii Emeraldfeather! Shrii Conqueror of Kraa… I’m still working on his titles, but anyway, he wants to see you and say thank you.’
And with that he pointed invitingly at the entrance to Kraa’s palace nest.
It was brimful when Ben and the others followed TerTaWa in. But the tiny birds who built the griffins’ nests knew their trade. Kraa’s palace easily held all the visitors. Except for Hothbrodd and Sorrel, all those who had helped to end Kraa’s reign were there. When Ben followed Tattoo, he saw Patah in the crowd. The macaque was looking rather contrite after not only the gibbon but even Kupo had shown themselves braver, yet even his face, which was usually so glum, showed some happiness and relief.
Shrii was sitting on the platform where Kraa had slept, and the other five griffins were standing in front of it. They had lowered their beaked heads, but Ben wasn’t sure whether that expressed defiance or submission.
Shrii had laid his snake-tail around his paws and claws, and was looking down at the other griffins watchfully. His emerald-green feathers shone as if the jungle had grown in through the sand-coloured walls. The griffin was such a magnificent sight that Ben felt his heart beating faster. And it was surely not the only heart to do so.
‘Yes, you heard correctly, Roargh,’ said Shrii, while Ben went over to Firedrake’s side. ‘Choose one of yourselves as your new king. It makes no difference to me. I shall go away. I never wanted to sit on Kraa’s throne.’
Neither TerTaWa nor Shrii’s other supporters seemed surprised by what he said, but Roargh let out an angry growl. He did not bother to hide the fact that he still disliked Shrii. But Hiera, the youngest she-griffin, took a hesitant step forward.
‘If you will allow us,’ she said, bending her neck to Shrii, ‘we will come with you, Shrii Dragonfriend.’
A second griffin, Greiir, joined Hiera. ‘I’ll follow you too,’ he said with a bow, ‘if you will let me.’
Roargh stared fixedly at the two of them.
‘You will both be welcome,’ said Shrii, standing up. ‘And don’t worry, Roargh,’ he added. ‘We will leave you a fair share of Kraa’s gold – when our visitors have been compensated for the lack of hospitality they have been shown here.’
Roargh and the other three griffins who had not joined Shrii turned around, looking at Barnabas and Ben with such a hungry expression that Firedrake raised his head watchfully.
‘Oh, no, no!’ said Barnabas hastily. ‘We take as little interest as you in treasures, my dear Shrii. Gold has as devastating an effect on humans as on griffins. All we wanted was a sun-feather. Now, sad to say, they have been turned to stone – like Kraa himself, but we have won the friendship of a griffin, and that is such an unexpected and wonderful gift that we can leave this island feeling grateful. I am sure we will never forget it.’
Roargh examined the claws of his right forepaw as if he were imagining ripping Barnabas’s head off with it.
‘Nobly spoken, I’m sure, glass-eyed man!’ he growled. ‘Your species always has a liking for sentimental talk. I’ve eaten many of you just for that.’
Shrii came down from the platform and stopped so close to Roargh that their beaks were almost touching.
‘I think you failed to hear why they came to this island,’ he said in a soft voice – soft, yet it still expressed both derision and a threat. ‘They need a sun-feather.’
Roargh returned Shrii’s glance with barely concealed hostility.
‘So?’ he croaked as he fluffed up the feathers on his head. It looked as if a gust of wind had blown on him.
‘You have three sun-feathers,’ stated Shrii, and the threat was still there in his soft voice. ‘Give them one of those feathers.’
Roargh’s laughter reminded Ben of the barking of hyenas.
‘Has your parrot plumage made you forget what a sun-feather looks like, Shrii Dragonfriend? I don’t have any. Not a single one.’
His snake-tail wound its way around his hind legs, with the forked tongue darting out, and both Firedrake and Tattoo tensed their muscles in alarm.
Shrii, however, looked at TerTaWa with an enquiring expression.
Jumping on his back, the gibbon pointed to Roargh’s neck. Roargh’s plumage was the colour of pale yellow desert sand, but Ben couldn’t see a sun-feather in it.
‘He has them painted by The Hands,’ said TerTaWa. ‘Kupo has seen it. But she didn’t want to tell the humans.’
Everyone looked at Kupo. You could tell how frightened she was of Roargh, but when his glance fell on her she stood up very straight, even though she was trembling all over.
‘Kraa had two sun-feathers, Roargh has three,’ cried Kupo. ‘He knew Kraa wouldn’t forgive him for that, so he hid them. It was poor Manis who usually had to paint them for him. Maybe that’s why he killed her when they destroyed our nests!’
Patah stroked her tiny head consolingly when she began to sob.
Roargh cast TerTaWa an icy look. By way of an answer, the gibbon only bared his teeth maliciously.
