“Guinevere says,” continued the professor, clearing his throat, “well, she claims she saw Nettlebrand.”
“Where?” cried Sorrel.
The professor’s remark gave Twigleg such a shock that he stopped yawning; and Firedrake and Ben exchanged anxious glances.
“What’s up?” Lola threaded her way through all the long legs around her and looked questioningly from one to the other of the companions.
“There’s someone after us,” growled Sorrel. “We thought we were rid of him, but we could have been wrong.”
“Why don’t I make a little reconnaissance flight?” asked Lola helpfully. “Just tell me what the person who’s after you looks like and roughly where he might be, and I’ll be off in a jiffy.”
“Would you really scout around for us?” asked Firedrake.
“Yes, of course.” The rat passed a paw over her ears. “Glad to. Makes a nice change from measuring stupid mountains and boring old valleys for Uncle Gilbert. Right, what am I looking for? A brownie, human, dragon, or maybe something like the little homunculpus thingummy there?”
Firedrake shook his head. “It’s a dragon,” he said, “but a much bigger dragon than me. With golden scales.”
“And he has a mountain dwarf with him,” added Barnabas Greenbloom. “A dwarf wearing an oversized hat. My daughter thinks she saw them both in the river down near the large suspension bridge where a landslide has fallen on the road.”
“I know it,” said Lola Graytail casually. “I’ll go take a look around.”
Quick as lightning, the fat rat was back in her plane. The engine purred, and the little aircraft shot up into the starlit sky. Soon it had disappeared even from Sorrel’s keen sight.
“That rat moves fast,” said the professor admiringly. “It’s a load off my mind to have her scouting for us. How did you meet her?”
“Oh, rats get everywhere,” replied Sorrel, looking around her. “You just have to wait around and a rat is sure to cross your path.”
“She’s the niece of Gilbert Graytail, who sold us the map,” Ben explained. “Her uncle sent her to survey some of the mountain regions that are still blank on his map.” He looked at the professor. “Lola says there’s no such place as the Rim of Heaven.”
Barnabas Greenbloom returned Ben’s gaze thoughtfully. “Does she? Well, in your place I’d put my faith in what the djinn showed you. Let’s try to decipher his directions. Come on!” Putting an arm around Ben’s shoulders, he led him toward the great flight of steps leading up to the main monastery building. “I want to introduce you to someone. I’ve told him all about your quest, and he’s been expecting you for some time.”
Firedrake and Sorrel followed the two of them up the long flight of steps.
“This is the Dhu-Khang,” explained Barnabas Greenbloom when they reached the heavy front door. It was painted with strange figures, and the handle was skillfully made of wrought iron. “It’s the monks’ prayer and assembly hall, although it’s not very much like our churches at home. There’s a lot of laughter here — it’s a cheerful place.”
Then he pushed open the heavy door.
The hall they entered was so high that even Firedrake could stand upright in it. Although it was dark, countless lamps burned in the great room, their flames flickering. Tall columns supported the ceiling. The walls were painted, and large pictures hung among shelves full of ancient books. The pictures were so strange and brightly colored that Ben would have liked to stop and study each of them, but the professor led them on. Rows of low seats stood among the columns, and a small man with short gray hair was waiting for them in the front row. He wore a bright red robe, and he smiled as the professor and Ben approached him.
Firedrake followed, more hesitantly, for this was only the second time in his life that he had ever been inside a building made by humans. The light of all the little lamps made his scales shimmer. His claws scraped on the floor, and his tail dragged after him with a soft rustling sound. Sorrel kept close to Firedrake, her paws on his warm scales while her ears twitched nervously and her eyes flicked from column to column.
“Trees,” she whispered to Firedrake. “Look, they grow stone trees here.”
They stopped in front of the monk, who bowed to them.
“May I introduce the venerable lama of this monastery?” said Barnabas Greenbloom. “He’s the highest-ranking monk here.”
The lama spoke in a soft voice.
“Welcome to the monastery of the moonstones,” Twigleg translated for Ben. “We are very glad to see you. According to our beliefs, the arrival of a dragon announces a great and happy event. And we are equally glad to see a dragon rider under our roof again after so long a time.”
Surprised, Ben looked from the monk to the professor.
Barnabas Greenbloom nodded. “Yes, that’s what he said. The dragon rider whose tomb Zubeida showed us visited this place. Indeed, he paid it several visits, if I understood my friend the lama correctly. They even have a picture of him hanging over there.”
Ben turned and went over to the niche in the wall indicated by the professor. A large pictorial scroll hanging between two bookshelves showed a dragon in flight with a boy riding it. There was another small figure sitting behind the boy.
“Sorrel!” said Ben, excitedly beckoning for the brownie girl to join him. “Don’t you think that looks almost like you?”