Dragon Rider (Dragon Rider 1)

14. Professor Greenbloom Explains

The sunset sky was already turning red when Barnabas Greenbloom came back with a big basket in one hand and a large battered saucepan in the other.

“I thought I’d make us some supper before we part,” he said. “I’m not as good a cook as my wife, but she’s taught me a few things. It’s a pity she isn’t here to meet you. Forest brownies are one of her special interests.”

“You have a wife, then?” asked Ben, interested. “And children, too?”

“Yes,” replied the professor. “One daughter, Guinevere. She’s about your own age. At the moment I’m afraid it’s her school term time, so she can’t be here, but the three of us often go on field trips together. My dear dragon,” he added, throwing a handful of dry leaves on the floor of the cave, “would you be so kind as to let us have a little of your blue fire?”

Firedrake breathed a small tongue of flame at the leaves, which immediately ignited. As the fire flickered up, the professor put a few stones around it and stood his saucepan on them.

“I’ve made some soup,” he said. “Chickpea soup with fresh mint, a favorite recipe in these parts. I thought a brownie, a boy, and a skinny homunculus could do with a hot meal before setting out again. As for dragons, they live entirely on moonlight, unless I’ve been misinformed.”

“That’s right.” Firedrake nodded, laid his muzzle on his paws, and looked into the fire. “Moonlight is all we need. Our strength waxes and wanes with the moon itself. On nights when the moon is new, I’m often too tired to leave my cave.”

“I hope that isn’t going to be a problem on your journey,” said the professor, stirring the pan.

Sorrel crouched beside the fire, sniffing hopefully. “If that’s not ready soon,” she muttered, her stomach grumbling, “I’ll have to try one of those prickly plants over there.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Barnabas. “Sandmen often live in cacti, and you don’t want to fool around with sandmen. Anyway,” he added, tasting a spoonful of soup, “this is nearly ready. I think you’ll like it. I know a good deal from my wife about the tastes of brownies.” He turned to Ben. “And do you have a family yourself? Apart from Sorrel and Firedrake, I mean.”

Ben shook his head. “No,” he mumbled.

The professor looked at him thoughtfully for some time. “Well, there could be worse company than that of a dragon and a brownie girl, wouldn’t you agree?” he said at last. Searching his basket, he took out three small bowls, three soupspoons, and a tiny sugar spoon for Twigleg. “But if you do ever happen to feel you’d like human company — I — er,” said the professor, rubbing his nose in some embarrassment. “Listen, I don’t even know your name.”

The boy smiled. “Ben,” he replied. “My name’s Ben.”

“Well then, Ben,” said the professor, filling a bowl with soup and handing it to Sorrel, who was already licking her lips impatiently, “if you ever fancy you’d like some human company you must visit my family and me.” He took a crumpled and rather dusty business card out of his pants pocket and gave it to Ben. “There, that’s our address. We could have some interesting conversations about brownies and dragons. Your friends might even care to come, too. I’m sure you’d like my daughter. She knows a lot about fairies — much more than I do.”

“Th-thanks,” stammered Ben. “That’s really very kind of you.”

“Kind? Not in the least.” The professor gave him a bowl of hot soup. “What’s so kind about it?” He handed Twigleg the tiny spoon. “Could you share Ben’s bowl? I’m afraid I only brought three.”

The homunculus nodded and perched on Ben’s arm. Barnabas Greenbloom turned back to the boy.

“On the contrary, Ben, it would be kind of you to accept my invitation. You’re a nice lad, and I’m sure you’ll have some fascinating tales to tell after this journey. Now I come to think of it, I’d call it rather selfish of me to invite you.”

“We’ll bring him over as soon as we’re back,” said Sorrel, smacking her lips. “That way we’ll be rid of him for a bit. By chanterelles and champignons, this soup tastes good!”

“Really?” Pleased, the professor smiled. “Well, if a brownie girl says so it must be true. Wait a moment, you need some of these fresh mint leaves to sprinkle on it. Here you are.”

“Mint! Mmm!” Sorrel rolled her eyes. “We ought to take you along to cook for us, Professor!”

“Oh, I’d love to come!” sighed the professor. “But unfortunately I get vertigo even at moderate heights, let alone when I fly. And I’m meeting my family soon. We’re traveling by ship in search of the winged horse, Pegasus. Nonetheless, I feel deeply honored by your offer.” He made a small bow and then helped himself to a bowl of his delicious soup.

“Firedrake told us you think it was his presence that attracted the basilisk,” said Ben. “Is that right?”

“I’m afraid so, yes.” Professor Greenbloom gave Ben a second helping of soup and a piece of pita bread. “I am firmly convinced that one fabulous being attracts another. In my view, the reason Firedrake hasn’t noticed the usual signs before is that he always is in the company of a fabulous creature — meaning you, my dear Sorrel. But most fabulous creatures start to itch as soon as they come near one another, and curiosity would attract many of them your way.”

“A nice prospect, I must say!” muttered Sorrel. She gave the steaming pan a dark glance. “Those mountain dwarves weren’t so bad, but judging by all I’ve heard about that baseltwist …” She shook her head gloomily. “Dear me, what next, I wonder?”

Barnabas Greenbloom’s glasses had misted up with the steam from his soup. He took them off his big nose and cleaned them. “The fact is, there aren’t so many fabulous creatures left on this planet. Most of them became extinct centuries ago. Unfortunately the less friendly specimens have proved best at surviving. So you’d better be ready for anything if you have a journey of any length ahead of you.”

“Professor?” Ben swallowed the last of his soup and put the bowl down in the silver basilisk dust that still covered the cave floor. “Have you ever heard of the Rim of Heaven?”

Sorrel nudged Ben sharply in the ribs. Firedrake raised his head. Twigleg pricked up his ears.

“Oh, yes,” said the professor, wiping out his soup bowl with a piece of pita bread. “The Rim of Heaven is a legendary mountain range, said to contain the valley from which dragons first came. But I don’t know much more about it.”