“Come on,” said Burr-Burr-Chan, climbing off Firedrake’s back. “You saw the rat’s signal. She’ll manage. And we must hurry, or that monster may look our way again.”
The Dubidai marched rapidly through the snowfield. Ben and Sorrel followed him to a high wall of rock, white with snow, too. Burr-Burr-Chan stopped in front of it.
Firedrake came up beside him and glanced at him inquiringly. “Well?”
Burr-Burr-Chan chuckled. “I told you. You can look straight at it and never see it.” He pressed one furry finger to a certain spot on the smooth rock, a place that he could only just reach. “See that groove? Lean your shoulder against it and brace yourself against the rock.”
Firedrake did as he was told. As soon as he pushed at the icy stone the rock swung aside, revealing the entrance to a dark tunnel. Cautiously the dragon leaned forward to look inside.
“Come on, hurry up and get in there!” Burr-Burr-Chan pushed Ben and Sorrel into the darkness.
Firedrake cast one last glance down at the lake, where Lola Graytail was still infuriating Nettlebrand. Then he turned and disappeared down the tunnel.
A familiar odor met him. It was quite faint in the cold air, which was getting warmer with every step they took into the heart of the mountain. It was Firedrake’s own aroma, sharp and fresh as the air above the clouds — it was the scent of dragons. All of a sudden, he felt as if he had come home.
The tunnel led downward. Sometimes it turned left, sometimes right. Several times, narrow passages forked off it, passages just high enough for brownies. A tempting smell of mushrooms wafted out of some of these passageways. Sorrel’s stomach rumbled, but she resolutely walked on.
“It’s not at all dark in here,” said Ben when they were deep inside the mountain. “Why not?”
“Moonstone,” replied Burr-Burr-Chan. “We made the walls of moonstone. It soaks up light like a sponge. You only have to let moonlight in now and then, or blow a little dragon-fire down the tunnel, and it’ll last for years. Even so, the place is much darker than when I was here last.” He looked up at the shimmering walls and shrugged his shoulders. “They’ve probably stopped letting any moonlight in, for fear of the golden dragon. I can’t wait to hear what they say when they know he’s paddling around right down there in the lake!”
“They’ll be furious, that’s what,” muttered Sorrel, nervously tugging at her ears. “Simply furious. They probably won’t even bother to ask what we’ve come for.”
“We can’t fight human beings,” said Firedrake. “If we drive away a hundred, then a thousand will return. But we can deal with Nettlebrand.”
“What?” Sorrel barred his way. She looked uneasy. “Are you talking about that again — fighting and so forth? When we set out, it was to find somewhere you dragons could live in peace! Now you’re planning to fight that monster? Huh!”
“The Golden One is rather cumbersome in a fight,” said Burr-Burr-Chan behind her. “With his heavy armor, he soon gets out of breath. And he doesn’t seem to be especially clever. Look how the rat flew rings around him.”
“Nonsense!” Sorrel turned on him angrily. “Absolute rot, rubbish, garbage! He’s twenty times larger than Firedrake!”
“Larger, yes.” Burr-Burr-Chan shrugged his shoulders. “So what?”
“Don’t upset yourself, Sorrel,” said Firedrake, gently pushing the brownie girl aside. “Let’s go on.”
“Okay!” growled Sorrel crossly. “But no more nonsense about fighting, right?”
They went on in silence. For a while, the tunnel continued downward, but then it turned a sharp bend and a huge cavern opened out before them. The ceiling glittered faintly with thousands of moonstones. Stalactites hung from it like frozen sea spray, and stalagmites grew upward from floor to roof.
Ben took a couple of steps forward in astonishment. He had never seen such a place before. Here, far inside the mountain, the rock seemed to have come to life. He felt as if he were standing among strange plants and trees and hills, all made of shimmering silver stone.
“Well?” said Sorrel behind him. “Where are the other dragons, then?”
“Crawled away into hiding, you bet your life,” replied Burr-Burr-Chan.
Hesitantly Firedrake stepped into the cavern. Sorrel followed him. Burr-Burr-Chan and Ben came slowly after them. In the middle of the cave, among mounds of stone shaped like spiny dragon crests, Firedrake stopped.
“Where are you?” he called.
There was no answer but the echo of his own voice.
“Hi there! Hello!” shouted Sorrel. “Look, dragons, we’ve flown halfway around the world — you might at least show your faces and welcome us.” But she got no answer, either.
There was nothing to be heard but a faint rustling from a thicket of stalactites and stalagmites at the very back of the cave.
Sorrel pricked up her ears. “Hear that?” she whispered to Firedrake.
Firedrake nodded.