The serpent nodded. “His eyes were red like the dying moon, full of murderous greed.” The memory wiped the smile off her face. “That night,” she said as the sea rocked her great body, “that night your relations came down from the mountains to the sea, as they always did when the moon was round and full in the sky. My sister and I swam close to the coast, so close that we could see the faces of the people sitting outside their huts waiting for the dragons. We submerged our bodies in the water so as not to alarm them, for human beings fear what they don’t know, especially when it’s bigger than they are. Moreover,” said the creature, smiling, “we serpents are not popular among them.”
Feeling embarrassed, Ben bowed his head.
“The dragons,” continued the serpent, “plunged into the foaming waves, looking as if they were made of moonlight.” She looked at Firedrake. “The people on the shore smiled. Creatures of your kind calm the anger that human beings always carry with them. Dragons banish their sorrow. That’s why they believe you bring good luck. But that night, yes, that night,” hissed the serpent softly, “another dragon came to chase the good luck away. The water boiled around his great muzzle as he surfaced in the sea. Dead fish floated on the waves. The silver dragons spread their wet wings in fear, but then, all of a sudden, the light of the moon was hidden by flocks of black birds. No cloud, however dark and heavy, can rob the moon of its power, but the birds did. Their dark feathers quenched the moonlight, and hard as the dragons tried to beat their wings, they couldn’t fly. They all would have been lost had my sister and I not been there to attack the monster.”
The sea serpent fell silent for a moment.
“You killed him?” asked Firedrake.
“We tried to,” replied the serpent. “We wound our coils around his armor and kept his jaws shut with our bodies. But his golden scales were cold as ice and burned us. Before long, we had to let him go, but our attack made the black birds disperse, and the moonlight gave the dragons enough strength to escape. The humans, stricken by grief and terror, stood on the shore watching them go as they flew up the river Indus and disappeared into the darkness. The monster plunged beneath the waves, and no matter how hard my sister and I searched the deepest depths of the sea we could find no trace of it. The black birds flew away, cawing. But the silver dragons never returned, although for long afterward people stood waiting on the seashore on nights when the moon was full.”
When the sea serpent had finished her story, no one said a word.
At last, Firedrake looked up at the black sky. “Did you never hear of them again?” he asked.
The serpent swayed back and forth. “Oh, there are many stories. The mermen and mermaids who swim up the Indus from time to time tell tales of a valley far, far away in the mountains, and they say that the shadow of a flying dragon sometimes falls on the valley floor. They believe that brownies have helped the dragons hide. And looking at your companion here,” she added, glancing at Sorrel, “I’d say the story is not improbable.”
Firedrake did not reply but stood there sunk deep in thought.
“I really wish we knew where that monster went,” growled Sorrel. “I don’t like the way he can appear and disappear, just like that.”
The serpent bent her head until her tongue was tickling Sorrel’s pointed ears.
“The monster is in league with the powers of the water, brownie,” she hissed. “All dragons can swim, although they are creatures of fire, but this one is lord of the water. Water is his servant even more than it is mine. I never saw that monster again, but sometimes, when I feel a cold current passing through the depths of the sea, I know that the dragon with golden armor is out hunting.”
Firedrake was still silent. “Golden,” he murmured at last. “He was golden. Sorrel, does that remind you of anything?”
The brownie looked at him in surprise. “No, why should it? Oh, wait a minute —”
“The old dragon at home in the north!” said Firedrake. “He warned us against the Golden One before we set out. Strange, don’t you think?”
Ben suddenly clapped a hand to his forehead.
“Golden!” he cried. “That’s it! Golden scales!” He quickly opened his backpack “Sorry, Twigleg,” he said, as the homunculus sleepily put his head out from Ben’s things. “Just looking for my bag with the scale in it.”
“The scale?” All at once the homunculus was wide-awake.
“Yes, I want to show it to the serpent.” Ben carefully fished out the golden scale from among his other treasures.
Twigleg emerged anxiously from his warm hiding place.
“What serpent?” he asked, peering out of the backpack — and then, with a shriek of terror, he dived back into Ben’s clothes.
“Here, Twigleg!” Ben pulled him out by his collar. “There’s nothing to be frightened of. She’s rather large but perfectly friendly. Honest!”
“Friendly?” muttered Twigleg, digging himself in again as far as he could go. “Anything that size is dangerous, however friendly it may be.”
The sea serpent brought her head closer, looking curious. “What do you want to show me, little human?” she asked. “And what’s that whispering in your bag?”
“Only Twigleg,” replied Ben. He carefully stood up on Firedrake’s back and held the scale out to the serpent on the palm of his hand. “Look, could this be one of the giant dragon’s scales?”
The serpent bent so close to Ben’s hand that the tip of her tongue brushed his arm. “Yes,” she hissed. “Yes, it could be. Put it against my neck.”
Ben looked at the serpent in surprise, but he did as she asked. When the golden scale touched the serpent’s iridescent neck, her whole body shuddered so violently that Firedrake almost fell off her back.
“Yes,” she hissed. “That is one of the monster’s scales. It looks like warm gold, but it burns like ice.”
“It’s always icy cold,” said Ben. “Even if you leave it out in the sun. I’ve experimented.” Carefully he put the scale back in his little bag. Twigleg had disappeared from view entirely.