The Griffin's Feather (Dragon Rider 2)

‘Your name is Greenbloom?’ The words came out of his lips like song. Not for nothing are gibbons known as the singing apes.

‘Yes,’ said Barnabas, ‘and I once had the honour of calling a gibbon like you my friend. His name was E-Mas.’

TerTaWa looked up at the griffin.

‘This man is not a spy, Shrii,’ he said firmly. ‘He is a friend. He saved the life of the Golden Gibbon!’

Ben shot Barnabas a glance of enquiry.

‘A story from my younger days,’ whispered Barnabas. ‘I’ll tell you about it if we get out of here safe and sound. Just for your information: the gibbon saved my life as much as I saved his! And Ben,’ he added almost inaudibly, ‘don’t look at Patah too hard.’

That was a lot to ask. The macaque had lost interest in the ballpoint pen, but now he was trying to open the locket.

Give it back to me, Ben wanted to say. I’m the dragon rider, not you! But of course Barnabas was right. Patah mustn’t notice how much the locket meant to him. Maybe the macaque would throw it away when he wasn’t interested in it any longer. But for now his annoyance at what the gibbon had said was distracting him from the stubborn silver thing.

‘Huh, tcha tcha, you’re a hopeless dreamer, TerTaWa!’ he chattered. ‘You ought to know better. After all, you’ve lived on a humans’ island! Don’t trust any of them, that’s the only rule that will keep you alive. Don’t trust a single human! Either that, or you must be in league with them, like Kraa!’

Shrii hadn’t taken his eyes off Barnabas since the gibbon had asked him his name. ‘What brings you to this island if you are neither poachers nor Kraa’s spies?’ he asked, taking no notice of Patah’s chatter of disapproval.

‘We need one of your sun-feathers. Of course we are prepared to pay the proper price for it!’ replied Barnabas. Shrii seemed to be an unusual griffin, but Barnabas decided not to mention the Pegasi all the same. For all he knew, the griffins’ contempt for horses might be inborn, like their desire for treasure.

‘We brought this,’ said Ben, coming to his aid and pointing to the bag containing Bagdagül’s bangle, ‘as payment for the feather.’

TerTaWa reached for the bag and took out the golden bangle. Kupo smacked her lips, impressed. But Shrii’s gaze became noticeably cooler.

‘Gold, of course. All griffins love gold.’ He fluffed up his feathers in annoyance. ‘Which I suppose can also be said of human beings, am I right? Maybe that’s why your species has always understood mine so extremely well. But I am not interested in your treasures, and even if I wanted your gold – only one griffin on this island has a sun-feather in his plumage, and that griffin is Kraa.’

‘Hear that, Patah?’ mocked one of the other macaques. ‘We don’t have to go to the trouble of killing them. Kraa will take their gold and bite their heads off!’

Once again the hollow tree was full of amused screeching. Only Kupo kept silent.

‘A sun-feather?’ she twittered, still sitting on Shrii’s shoulder. ‘Why would human beings need a sun-feather?’

Barnabas avoided answering. Suddenly TerTaWa put a finger to his lips in warning.

The scream that echoed through the hollow tree was the one that Ben had heard on their first night on Pulau Bulu. It sounded like death. Like hungry lions and hunting eagles.

‘It’s Tchraee!’ screeched one of the lorises. ‘Tchraee the ape-murderer!’

‘I warned you, didn’t I?’ cried Patah. ‘They were bait! Kraa’s bait! How else did they find us?’

Two macaques seized Barnabas, and two more made menacingly for Ben. But they all scattered when a winged figure darkened the opening from outside.

Crowds of monkeys surged into the hollow tree. Shrii lashed out at them, defending himself with his claws and lion’s paws, but even he retreated when another griffin made his way into the tree trunk. His beak and claws were black as ebony, but the centuries had bleached his coat and feathers to a dusty grey.

‘Surrender, Shrii!’ snarled Tchraee through the battle cries of the monkeys. ‘Kraa wants me to bring you to him alive.’

Shrii shook off a dozen monkeys, and rid himself of two more who were thrusting at him with sharpened sticks.

‘I’ll surrender if you let the others go,’ he cried.

Tchraee looked scornfully around the now empty hollow tree, while one of his monkeys threw a liana around Patah’s neck. ‘Is that how you see our future? A miserable hollow tree as a dwelling for the lions of the air? I’ll leave your treacherous servants alive for the time being, which is more than they deserve for their rebellion. But Kraa himself will punish them – and they will certainly not die a quick death.’

He looked at the prisoners his monkeys had taken, and leaned over Kupo. His terrible beak came so close to the loris that it almost touched her fur.

‘Well, well, who have we here?’ he cooed. ‘Kraa misses your clever fingers, Kupo! The other lorises are bunglers compared to you. How can you waste your talents on a griffin who can’t even build himself a proper nest?’

Kupo was trembling so much that she couldn’t say a word. But Patah bared his yellow teeth aggressively.