The Griffin's Feather (Dragon Rider 2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The Anger of Dragons

The insufferable arrogance of human beings to think

that Nature was made solely for their benefit, as if it

was conceivable that the sun had been set afire merely

to ripen men’s apples and head their cabbages.

Savinien de Cyrano de Bergerac,

The Comical History of the States and Empires

of the Worlds of the Moon and Sun

It was a very long time since Firedrake had felt such anger.

Ben and Barnabas in a cage!

Picking up the scent of the men standing beside the basket-work cages, Tattoo could tell as clearly as Firedrake what they were like. Such men smelled the same everywhere, as if cruelty grew from their skin like a poisonous fungus. But the worst of it was that they aroused that cruelty even in the heart of a silver dragon. Oh, the wish to simply burn all human darkness away! Sorrel felt it like a fit of shivering in Firedrake’s body as the dragon swooped down on the poachers. She called his name soothingly, to keep him from losing himself in his anger, and was relieved to see the poachers running under the trees for shelter, leaving their prisoners behind without a fight. Firedrake had never yet killed, and there were terrible stories about what killing did to a silver dragon.

Tattoo had no brownie on his back to warn him of the anger in his heart. Sorrel tried to call him back, but the thrill of aggression flaring up in him made the blood rush in his ears and deafened him to her voice. Tattoo followed the poachers down to the beach, and Catcher and his men escaped only because they knew their way, and the trees were obstacles to the dragon in his flight. Their boat was already moving out to sea when Tattoo, snorting, broke out of the forest. Presumably that saved their lives. He breathed fire after them, and when the blue flames reached the boat’s hull it sank into the waves with the poachers, as suddenly as if dragon-fire had made it forget to float. In all the excitement neither Tattoo nor Catcher and Kamaharan felt surprised. Those two were the only ones to save themselves by jumping over the rail. Catcher was such a poor swimmer that he clung to Kamaharan, and that was all that prevented him from going under.

Tattoo saw the two of them swim away, but he didn’t breathe any more fire. He stood on the beach and felt his own anger like lava in his veins, so hot and burning that he thought he would be singed by his own flames. The young dragon had never known anything like it before, and he didn’t like what he was feeling. That wish for destruction, taking pleasure in the fear of others… yes, it was pleasure that he felt! In spite of his youth, Tattoo knew himself too well to deny it. It made him shudder, and he was a stranger to himself for the first time in his life. When he finally turned around to rejoin the others, it was with a longing in his heart to have a brownie, the way Firedrake had Sorrel. Or a boy like the one for whom Firedrake had flown all this way, and about whom he talked to Tattoo with so much love.

While Tattoo was breathing fire after the poachers, Firedrake had already landed among the griffins’ trees, and Sorrel had started opening the basketwork cages. Ben didn’t want to let go of her again when she set him free, and Barnabas shook her paw so vigorously that she worried about her furry fingers, but worst of all was the troll. Hothbrodd tossed Sorrel so high into the air that she was almost bitten by a pit viper! Only Twigleg said thank you in his own very civilised way with a deep bow, first to Sorrel and then to Firedrake. She had to admit that she was almost as relieved to see the homunculus intact as to find Ben and Barnabas safe and well. Brownies don’t forgive easily, and Sorrel still held it against Twigleg that he had once served one of Firedrake’s worst enemies. But it’s his size, Sorrel, she told herself as the homunculus thanked her with another bow. That’s what it is, yes. These tiny little creatures just steal into your heart!

That, however, didn’t apply to rats. Sorrel left it to Twigleg to set Lola free. It’s better for rats and brownies to watch one another from a safe difference. How about monkeys? No. Definitely not. Sorrel didn’t notice the second human boy until Winston was enthusiastically shaking Twigleg’s tiny hand, and of course he was staring at her and Firedrake with as much astonishment as Ben had done at their first meeting! Thanks a million. As if one human boy in a brownie’s life wasn’t enough! When Tattoo came back it was to be feared that Winston’s brown eyes would pop out of his head with awe.

As soon as the monkeys were out of the baskets, they disappeared up the trees.

‘Hey, how about a polite thank you?’ Sorrel called after them. ‘And where does that crazy rat think she’s going?’ she asked Ben when she spotted Lola on Patah’s shoulder.

‘Oh no, Lola is far from crazy,’ said Barnabas, stretching his legs, which were stiff from his imprisonment. ‘She and Shrii’s monkeys are following the macaques who supervised trade with the poachers. Let’s hope they catch up with them before news of the dragons who set us free gets around this island!’

‘Monkeys trading with poachers?’ Sorrel went over to the dish full of treasure, with the statue of the griffin watching over it. ‘What do they want with gold and seashells?’

‘Oh,’ said Barnabas evasively, ‘that’s a peculiarity of the monkeys on this island.’ He glanced at Ben, who was standing between Firedrake and Tattoo, with Twigleg on his shoulder. All the anxiety had left his face, and he looked as happy as he did only when the dragon was near him.

‘But how did you find your way here?’ Barnabas heard him ask, while he stroked Firedrake’s silver scales, as if he couldn’t believe that the dragon had really come to his rescue. Winston was standing at the respectful distance of a few paces away from him, looking at the dragons as if all the dreams he’d ever had were coming true.

‘Tattoo?’ said Ben. ‘That’s not really a dragon name, is it?’

‘His real name is Lhag Pa,’ said Firedrake, while Tattoo responded to Winston’s gaze. The younger dragon seemed to be visibly enjoying the boy’s admiration. Well, he deserved it. He was a magnificent sight.

Barnabas sighed.

‘What’s the matter, Greenbloom?’ Sorrel asked, pushing him in the chest with her paw. ‘You don’t look like a man who’s just been saved from a gang of animal-catchers and poachers. More like someone who – what is it you humans say? – who’s jumped out of the frying pan into the fire.’

By way of answering her, Barnabas heaved another deep sigh. A deep and extremely worried sigh.

‘Sorrel,’ he whispered to the brownie girl. ‘I need your help. The two dragons must leave this island again as quickly as possible!’

Sorrel never got around to asking why.

‘Leave it?’ Firedrake laid his head on her shoulder. ‘What’s the hurry, Barnabas?’