He was just helping Hothbrodd and Vita with the final preparations for the journey when Barnabas asked him to come to the library. He had an expression on his face that Ben usually saw there only when Barnabas was giving him a Christmas or birthday present.
‘I have a job for you to do, my dear boy,’ he said. ‘You can say no, of course, but I think you’d enjoy it. Vita has pointed out to me that there are no stories or other accounts of meetings between dragons and Pegasi. It’s perfectly possible that the paths of those two fabulous beings have never crossed. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they did meet in MÍMAMEIÐR for the first time? Even though sad reasons have brought both Firedrake and Ànemos here. Vita and I agree that only someone very special can introduce them to each other, and no one could be better than a dragon rider. What do you think? Would you take on the job?’
Ben was speechless. ‘Of… of course,’ he finally stammered. ‘If… if you really think I’m the right one to do it. But—’
‘You’re certainly right for it,’ Barnabas interrupted him. ‘Not even Sorrel would dispute it. I’d bet all the mushrooms in MÍMAMEIÐR on that. Right, then, I’ll go and discuss the exact route with Hothbrodd and Lola.’
CHAPTER NINE
An End and a New Beginning
O Wind,
If Winter comes,
can Spring be far behind?
Percy Bysshe Shelley, ‘Ode to the West Wind’
Faced with two fabulous figures who, between them, have accumulated the wisdom of life for over two thousand years, how do you introduce them to each other when you are only fourteen yourself ? Ben was by no means as certain as Barnabas that he was the right person to do it. But how could he have said no? The meeting of Firedrake and Ànemos would certainly be unforgettable. On the other hand… wouldn’t it be more polite just to introduce them to one another and then leave them alone? And would Firedrake really want a human being around when he met a creature who, like him, had inspired fairy tales and legends, even if that human being was his dragon rider?
None of those questions seemed important when Ben reached Slatebeard’s cave. From the way Firedrake looked, he could tell at once that something had happened. The cavern was empty, except for a swarm of lights drifting like pollen, one by one, towards the mouth of the cave.
‘He could be rather grouchy, that’s for sure!’ Sorrel was sitting near the cave mouth herself. She looked very small and lost. ‘How can he simply have gone away? I had such good arguments with him!’ Ben heard her suppress a sob. ‘A few new stars in the sky. Oh, terrific. As if there weren’t enough of them already! Can you argue with stars? Or touch them? Can you smell them? Hear them?’
She sobbed again. The tears had left dark tracks down her furry face. Ben went over to her and stroked her head.
‘Don’t you dare go and die before me!’ Sorrel snapped at Firedrake. ‘Do you hear? And the same goes for you, dragon rider! And even for that mildew-fungus of a homunculus!’
‘I was just about to ask you all to make me the same promise,’ said Firedrake, although of course he knew that dragons and brownies usually lived a good deal longer than humans. Ben found that a very comforting thought, although Firedrake certainly didn’t see things the same way.
Ben followed the last lights out of the cave, and watched until they dissolved in the rays of the sun. No, it was not a bad way of saying goodbye to this life, and he was glad that he had come to know Slatebeard so well over these last two years. The old dragon had told him many things about the valley in Scotland where Firedrake grew up. He had known Firedrake’s parents, and had rescued him from an eagle when he was still very young. Slatebeard could remember the days when knights went hunting dragons. He had fought some of those knights himself. Ben had often asked Twigleg to write down the stories that Slatebeard told him about his adventures. The homunculus had filled many notebooks with those tales, and Barnabas had had them typed and bound in silvery linen covers by a bookbinder, so that Slatebeard’s memories would not disappear with him to where they could still be read only in the stars.
Firedrake went over to Ben, and he too looked up at the sky.
‘I can tell Ànemos that you’d rather meet him some other day,’ said Ben.
But Firedrake shook his head.
‘No, this is a good day. Something old leaves, something new comes. Slatebeard would have liked that. And I can’t wait to meet the Pegasus.’
Ben looked back to the cave. Sorrel had not followed them out into the fresh air.
‘I think she still needs a little more time,’ said Firedrake. ‘She loved Slatebeard very much, and not just because she had such good arguments with him. She’ll probably be off soon in search of a few tasty mushrooms.’
Ben couldn’t help smiling. Yes, that was exactly what Sorrel would do.
‘I wish there were some way of driving my own grief away so quickly,’ said Firedrake as they set off together down the path to the stables.
Dragon and Pegasus – the meadows surrounding them seemed a very ordinary place for the meeting of two such extraordinary creatures, but when Ben said so, Firedrake only snorted with amusement.
‘You soon get tired of what’s extraordinary, dragon rider. It’s often the most ordinary things that bring great happiness, and I’m sure the Pegasus will value the peaceful meadows of MÍMAMEIÐR as much as I do.’
Ànemos was already waiting for them.
He stood motionless as a statue in the wild grass, with the wind blowing through his mane. Only his distended nostrils showed that he was not as calm as he made out.
Firedrake stopped when they were still ten human paces apart. The Pegasus was very much smaller than the dragon, and Firedrake lay down in the grass to compensate for the difference in size. Ànemos expressed his thanks for that gesture by going closer. Size doesn’t really count, as the two of them impressively proved. In their presence, the world seemed very young and very old at the same time, and each seemed to complement the magic of the other.