Dragon Rider (Dragon Rider 1)

Once down at the foot of the mountain, he ran past the huts. Would it be worth stopping to look for rings, gold chains, coins, beautiful precious stones? But these huts didn’t smell like rich places, so Gravelbeard hurried on, past sheds full of sheep and goats, over the fields to the river where Nettlebrand was lurking in the brown water.

On the bank, the dwarf looked around again. All was still. The people were asleep, weary after their hard day’s work in the fields. Their animals were safe from cold in the stables, and the wild beasts roaming around had nothing but prey in mind. Gravelbeard picked a twig from the nearest bush and struck the water with it.

“Your Goldness!” he called softly. “Your Goldness, I’m back.”

Snorting, Nettlebrand rose from the river.

“Well, what did you find out?” he growled, shaking the mud off his scales.

“Everything!” replied Gravelbeard proudly. “The dragons have been hiding, Your Goldness! That’s why you couldn’t find them all these years! They hid away in a cave inside a mountain. You ought to have taken a mountain dwarf along when you went looking for them before. We can find any cave anywhere!”

“So where is this cave, then?” Nettlebrand asked impatiently.

“You have to cross that mountain,” replied Gravelbeard portentously. “The one with the monastery built on its side. Then you turn east, and then,” he said, grinning triumphantly, “then you come to the mountain range they call the Rim of Heaven. The entrance to the cave is in the valley beyond it.”

Nettlebrand reared up, hardly able to believe it, and water dripped from his huge body. “In that valley, you say?” he roared. “But I know the place. I’ve searched and searched there until my claws were worn right down. Huh!” He licked his lips and chortled. “The fools — they couldn’t have chosen a better place!”

“What do you mean, Your Goldness?” asked Gravelbeard curiously.

“You’ll soon see!” Nettlebrand snorted happily. “Has the silver dragon set off yet?”

Gravelbeard shrugged his shoulders and looked at Nettlebrand’s muddy scales, frowning. “Probably. He was planning to take off as soon as darkness fell. But you’ll soon find him. Just let me clean your scales first, Your Goldness. I can hardly see their beautiful golden glow.”

“Forget the golden glow!” Nettlebrand snapped. “Come here and get into my mouth.” He laid his terrible muzzle on the bank and opened his jaws wide.

“Oh, no!” Gravelbeard retreated defiantly. “You want to swallow me again.”

“Of course I do!” growled Nettlebrand. “I have to dive deep, a long, long way down, so get a move on, will you?”

“But I don’t like it in there!” whimpered Gravelbeard as he approached Nettlebrand’s mighty teeth, his knees shaking.

“Why not? I thought you mountain dwarves liked caves, and what’s my stomach but a large cave?” replied Nettlebrand nastily. “Come on, jump!”

“Don’t want to!” repeated Gravelbeard.

But then he held tight to his hat and jumped in, between those terrible teeth and onto that gigantic tongue. And Nettlebrand swallowed him.

44. The Rim of Heaven

Firedrake flew on. The nine white peaks forming the Rim of Heaven shimmered in the distance as if starlight clung to them. The rat flew her plane on the leeward side of the dragon, where she was out of the wind.

Firedrake felt strong, as if moonlight were flowing through his veins. And he felt light, as if he were made of the same elements as the night itself. At last he was approaching his journey’s end. His heart was beating fast in anticipation, driving him across the sky faster than he had ever flown before, so fast that soon the rat couldn’t keep up and landed her plane on his tail.

“Whee!” cried Burr-Burr-Chan. “Whoo! I’d forgotten how great it feels to ride a dragon!”

He clung to the straps with two of his paws and used the other two to rummage in his sack and bring out a mushroom. It was so wonderfully fragrant that Sorrel forgot all her anxiety about what lay ahead of them and leaned over Burr-Burr-Chan’s shoulder, sniffing. “By chanterelles and truffles!” she said, licking her lips. “What kind of a mushroom is that? It smells of leeks and —”

“It’s a shiitake,” replied Burr-Burr-Chan, smacking his own lips. “A genuine Japanese shiitake. Want to try one?” Putting a paw into his sack, he brought out another and dropped it over his shoulder into Sorrel’s lap.

“Quite useful, those four arms of yours,” she murmured, sniffing the strange mushroom before taking a cautious bite.

“Very useful,” agreed Burr-Burr-Chan. He looked ahead to where the Rim of Heaven was rising higher and higher into the night sky. “Well done, we’re almost there. My word, your dragon is a strong flyer.”

“He’s had plenty of practice these last few weeks,” said Sorrel, chewing noisily. She rolled her eyes appreciatively. “Do mushrooms like these really grow on rocks?”

“Good heavens, no!” Burr-Burr-Chan laughed so heartily that Firedrake turned in surprise to look at him.

“Your brownie girl here is a real comic,” gasped Burr-Burr-Chan. “Very amusing indeed!”