The Dragon's Eye Page 13

  I looked at the dragons. A thought occurred to me. Idraigir was a remarkable creature. Who knew how far he could fly? Our parents might be in desperate danger at any moment. I imagined myself riding him triumphantly across the Thar Desert to save them, blasting dark dragonologists from my path.

  “But can’t we —?”

  “No,” said Dr. Drake. “This is the most important lesson of all. A dragonologist does not take advantage of dragons, and he never uses spells and charms against them. A dragonologist simply seeks to study dragons and to conserve and protect those dragons that still remain.”

  I hung my head. But Beatrice came and put her arm round my shoulder.

  “Let’s do it together,” she said.

  So we both stood before the three dragons.

  “Dragons,” said Beatrice, “you are free.”

  “Obey no one,” I added, “but yourselves.”

  Dr. Drake smiled.

  Idraigir let out a sigh.

  Flitz sat up and hissed at us. Then he flew off after Ignatius, giving me a nasty scratch as he passed.

  “Idraigir,” said Dr. Drake, “I apologise that you have had to suffer the indignity of taming, and so crudely. In a way, it is partly my fault, because I did not realise just how much Ignatius had managed to learn or how much help he had gathered. I ask only that you forgive us and that you go in peace.”

  The dragon bowed his mighty head. He gestured towards Scramasax with his claw. Scorcher, who was not really hurt, was snuffling at his mother, making very sad little noises.

  Dr. Drake was at the red dragon’s side in a moment. As Dr. Drake knelt by her enormous head, the prone dragon let out a long, rasping breath. My heart leapt, for it seemed that Scramasax was not dead after all. She raised her head a little off the ground.

  “Drake,” she said, “I am badly wounded. I must sleep in my lair for a long time in order to recover my strength. Scorcher will be all right. He can stay with me and help me recover, but I have another egg that has not hatched yet. I cannot look after it while I heal. I would not even trust another dragon with it. But you will become Dragon Master, I am sure. So I will trust you. Will you take care of it for me, until I am strong enough to come and claim my baby from you?”

  “I will,” said Dr. Drake. “And I will keep it safe from harm and raise it properly as a wild dragon, so that when you are able to, you may bring it back to its home here.”

  “Then I thank you,” said Scramasax. “And now I shall tell you what you seek to know. The Dragon’s Eye is guarded by the most ancient dragon still living in the British Isles. She is the one who knows the ways of humans better than all other dragons. But I am not able to simply tell you where to find her lair. You must pass a riddle test. Listen:

  Near Wantley’s smokestack lies a door

  That’s hidden by a barren floor.

  Oh, do not go the smokestack way,

  Or fire and flames shall make you stay.

  Go underground, now that you’ve heard,

  And take the Wantley Dam her word.”

  And with that, Scramasax began to drag herself into her lair, with Dr. Drake following. Soon he emerged again, carefully cradling something large and round in his flameproof cloak.

  “This cloak will help to keep the egg warm and your fingers cool,” he said. “Do not touch the egg itself; it will burn you. Beatrice, will you look after it?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but Dr. Drake gave me a smile and said, “When we reach St. Leonard’s Forest, you may look after it together.”

  He then turned to Idraigir and said, “But now we have a problem. We still need to solve that riddle and find the Dragon’s Eye before Ignatius. Idraigir, will you help us?”

  “I long to get back to my lair in Wales. For who else but I can protect my hoard? But for releasing me, yes, I will help you,” said Idraigir.

  “Then we shall fly back to my home, Idraigir.”

  Dr. Drake turned to us and said, “Prepare yourselves, my dears. For you two are about to have your first ride on a dragon. But you must be careful, for we will be flying bareback!”

  Idraigir lowered his long neck to the ground. Dr. Drake took the blanket that had covered Scorcher’s cage, folded it several times, and placed it over the dragon’s shoulders, so that we would be protected as much as possible from the spines on Idraigir’s back. He then helped us to climb up. I sat in front of Beatrice, who gripped me tightly about the waist. Then Dr. Drake climbed onto the dragon too, sitting in front of us so he could direct Idraigir. Just then, Scorcher came padding out of the cave mouth to see us off. He made a few screeching noises, and we waved at him.

  “Good-bye, Scorcher!” shouted Dr. Drake. “By the time I see you again, perhaps you will have begun to speak a little! Take care of your mother!”

  Idraigir stood up slowly, spread out his huge wings, took two or three steps forward, and launched himself off the mountainside and into the sky. He beat his powerful wings to gain height, then turned in a great, slow arc towards the south. I could feel my heart pounding. Far below us, I could see the forests on the slope of Ben Wyvis and farther off, Loch Ness shimmering in the Great Glen. But soon we were past it, winging our way across the Grampian Mountains and crossing the Firth of Forth.

  A few hours later, after flying over a great deal of countryside and several towns, Dr. Drake shouted, “See that city below us? That is London! We are nearly home!”

  We did not fly directly over London, for there was too much smoke rising up from the thousands and thousands of chimneys, even though it was July. Instead, we flew around it in a large arc until we were above Sussex, where we began our descent. Idraigir began swooping around in a series of circles, getting lower and lower each time, until he must have been only a few hundred feet above the ground.

  “Now,” cried Dr. Drake, “there is Horsham. I can see the church spire. Bear to the left, and fly out past the farmland and over to the forest.”

  Idraigir obeyed, and it was not long before we saw Castle Drake nestled amongst the trees.

  “Set us down there,” cried Dr. Drake.

  The dragon made one or two more slow loops and put his feet down on Dr. Drake’s front lawn.

  We climbed down off Idraigir’s back and saw Darcy, Emery, and Mademoiselle Gamay running out of the house to welcome us.

  Dr. Drake turned to Idraigir.

  “Now,” said the dragon, “I shall return home. I do not like to leave it for long. But if you wish me to, I will return. I would not like to see the Dragon’s Eye in the hand of that man Ignatius.”

  “Then return to us in three days’ time,” said Dr. Drake. “I do not think this riddle will take me long to solve.”

  Idraigir bowed. Then, without further ado, he took five paces forward, lunged upwards, and flew into the sky.

  Next, Dr. Drake spoke to Beatrice, who, carrying the egg, went into the house with Mademoiselle Gamay. He then led Emery, Darcy, and myself to the old coal shed.

  “We need to erect some sort of chimney in here,” he said. “We have a dragon’s egg to hatch and we are going to need ventilation.”

  Emery nodded, and he and Darcy set off to find some tools.

  “Now, Daniel,” said Dr. Drake, “I would like both you and Beatrice to work on this riddle. You will need to write it down in your dragonological record books. But I would also like you to spend time writing notes on everything that you have learned on our adventure.”

  I went back into the house to find Beatrice.

  To my horror, I found that Beatrice had built a little fire in the grate in the drawing room, even though it was summertime, and had placed the egg among the flames.

  “What are you doing?” I cried, leaping forward in order to rescue the egg.

  “It’s all right, Daniel,” she replied. “Dr. Drake says that we must keep the egg as warm as possible, so as not to harm the developing chick inside. Emery and Darcy are going to build a proper charcoal nest for it in the coal shed, but until then
we need to keep it here.”

  Later that evening, Dr. Drake called us into his study.

  “Have either of you had any ideas on the solution to Scramasax’s riddle?” he asked.

  Beatrice and I had spent the afternoon making copious notes in our diaries, with breaks to check on the egg. We had talked about the riddle, but it didn’t seem as simple as the one on Ebenezer Crook’s grave.

  “Is there a place called Wantley somewhere?” asked Beatrice.

  “That’s the trouble,” said Dr. Drake. “I have pored over my atlas, and I cannot find Wantley anywhere. I wish I had my dragon diary. You see, there is an amusing rhyme about a dragon from Wantley. It is based on a legend about a dragon that is defeated by a knight in spiked armour who hides at the bottom of a well. It is very frustrating. I can only hope there is a reference to it in one of my books. I have also written a short note to Mr. Flyte at my shop and one to Lord Chiddingfold explaining what has happened. It may be that they can find out some information up in London.”

  But much as Dr. Drake searched through all the books in his library, he could not crack the puzzle. Darcy meanwhile, took us to see Weasel, and to help look after Jamal, who seemed pleased to see us every time we turned up with a wheelbarrowfull of meat for him. We even tried to play another game of football with him, but he merely crushed the ball beneath his feet. His attempts at flying were growing better by the day, and I knew that before long, Dr. Drake would have to take him home. We also went to check up on the egg, which was now installed on its own little nest in the coal shed. Dr. Drake showed us how to use the bellows in order to bring the charcoal fire up to the right temperature.

  It was two days later that help with the riddle finally arrived. Beatrice and I were on our way to visit Jamal when a carriage pulled into the drive of Castle Drake, bearing Billy and Alicia. Dr. Drake came out to greet them immediately.

  “I have a message from my father,” said Billy. “He says that a researcher he knows at the British Library has confidently identified Wantley. Given what has happened, he wants you to go there as soon as possible. Mr. Tibbs doesn’t exactly agree with him, but this time my father overruled him.”

  “Where is it?” said Dr. Drake.

  “The real Wantley is a village called Wharncliffe,” said Alicia. “It is not far from Sheffield.”

  “Wharncliffe!” exclaimed Dr. Drake. “Of course! The knight that killed the dragon in the legend was called More of More Hall. I knew that More Hall lay not too far away on the other side of Sheffield, but I never thought of Wharncliffe. I shall leave tomorrow. Daniel and Beatrice, while I am away, I would like you to bring Billy and Alicia up to date on everything that has happened.”

  “Aren’t we coming with you?” I asked.

  “Not this time,” said Dr. Drake. “I am afraid that it is too dangerous.”

  “And what about the rest of the riddle?”

  “Well, I’m hoping that part of it can be solved when I arrive. I’m also guessing that the Wantley Dam is another name for the Guardian. As for the ‘word’ that I must take her, I have an idea what that might be. In any case, at least we are still one jump ahead of Ignatius Crook.”

  I went outside with my record book and sat on the lawn. It didn’t seem fair that Dr. Drake had taken us along on so much of this adventure but was going to leave us out of the most important part. Danger or not, I would have loved to have come face to face with the most ancient dragon in the British Isles. What stories she would be able to tell about days gone by!

  I opened my record book to the page where I had written down the riddle. I took out my pencil and wrote:

  WANTLEY = WHARNCLIFFE

  I circled it over and over again.

  Suddenly my record book was yanked out of my hand. I looked up to see a very familiar blue creature flying off with it.

  “Flitz!” I shouted.

  I got up and ran after him. Flitz flew through the trees, carrying my record book. Little sparks started to come out of his mouth, and I was worried that my book was going to catch fire. Somehow or other, I managed to keep him in my sights as he came to the road.

  Alexandra Gorynytchka was waiting, sitting on a large black horse.

  “Do be careful, Flitz!” she said with a laugh as Flitz landed on the pommel of her saddle and presented her with the now smoking book.

  I stepped forward.

  “That book is mine,” I said.

  But Alexandra just held up her hand as she flicked through the pages. When she came to the page with the riddle, she tore it out, then tossed the book back to me.

  “Here you are, Daniel,” she said. “I am glad that you are such a thorough little dragonologist. Luckily for you, I am in quite a hurry. Flitz can be rather nasty when I want him to be.”

  “I thought Flitz belonged to Ignatius,” I cried.

  “So does Ignatius,” said Alexandra, laughing. “What a fool!”

  I backed away.

  Alexandra laughed even harder.

  “By the way,” she said, “I heard a rumour that Ignatius has sent those two ruffians of his here. And this time they won’t be taking you prisoner.”

  She cantered away, chuckling to herself, as Flitz flew round and round her head.

  I ran back to the house as fast as I could, and dreading what Dr. Drake was going to say, I knocked on the door of his study.

  The next day, the green dragon returned to Castle Drake — not a moment too soon as far as Dr. Drake was concerned — and we set off on our second dragon flight. Given what I had told everyone about Alexandra and Flitz, Dr. Drake had decided to take us with him after all.

  “It is a question of the frying pan or the fire, I am afraid,” he had said. “And I would rather have you two with me.”

  I felt that it had been my fault that Alexandra — and no doubt Ignatius, too — had discovered the location of the Dragon’s Eye. But Dr. Drake had told me that I could not possibly have expected Flitz to have stolen my record book so spectacularly.

  “And there is still a good chance that we shall get there first,” he said.

  We flew up over Sussex in fine weather. This time we were not riding bareback. Billy and Alicia had brought a fine dragon saddle with them from London, which Dr. Drake said had been crafted by a very discreet saddler indeed. Even so, the journey was not particularly enjoyable this time, mainly because Idraigir was flying at full speed in an effort to reach Wharncliffe as quickly as possible.

  Several hours later, we could see the smoke rising over a city that must have been Sheffield. Below us lay a moor.

  “That must be Ramsley Moor,” said Dr. Drake. “Land there. Wharncliffe lies just to the east of it.”

  Idraigir began swooping down in circles again and set us down near a small group of standing stones.

  We climbed off his back, and Dr. Drake loosened the harness on the saddle.

  Then he bowed low. “Idraigir,” he said, “I shall not forget what you have done for us.”

  Idraigir thumped his front feet on the ground.

  “Defeat that man Ignatius,” he said. “That is all I ask.”

  Then he took off again and flew upwards. Soon he had become no more than a tiny green speck in the sky.

  “Now,” said Dr. Drake, “we must search for something that could be called the smokestack. I imagine that it will be some sort of pile of rocks.”

  But although we searched the moor for several hours, we could find nothing that Dr. Drake thought might be the smokestack, and since we were growing tired and hungry, Dr. Drake said that we ought to stop and find somewhere to rest for the night.

  “But what about Ignatius?” I cried. “He and Alexandra might arrive here any minute.”

  “That may be,” said Dr. Drake. “But you children need food and rest now, and that is what you are going to have. And I have another reason for visiting Wharncliffe. I think we are on a wild goose chase at the moment. I am going to see if I can find out some information.”

  And
Dr. Drake led us off the moor and to a small inn that lay on the outskirts of Wharncliffe village.

  When I woke up the next day, I discovered that Dr. Drake had been up and about since the early morning, buying a spade, some provisions, and some candles, and trying to find out as much as he could about anything that might be called the smokestack out on the moor. He had been in luck. The lady who sold him the provisions had said that her mother often used to speak of it. It was a rocky hole in the ground from which, in olden days, smoke and flames had sometimes been seen. There was a story, that very few people believed these days, that there was a dragon under Ramsley Moor, and it was she who caused the smoke and flames to rise up, almost as from a chimney.

  “It was right under our noses all along!” said Dr. Drake.

  He led us back to the small circle of stones. And there, about a hundred yards away, I found a depression in the ground that was filled with rocks. I could almost imagine that if you crawled down, you might find yourself in some sort of vertical shaft. And when I leaned over it, I could indeed see that there was a sort of vent going downwards.

  “Well done, Daniel,” said Dr. Drake. “Now that we have found the smokestack, we must find the entrance. It is hidden by a ‘barren floor.’ Can you see a patch of ground that has nothing growing on it?”

  This time it was Beatrice who found what we were looking for.

  “There!” she said, pointing to a bare patch of ground a little farther on from the smokestack.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “There seem to be quite a few bare patches of ground about.”

  “Look!” she said.

  Suddenly it hit me. The other patches of ground were irregular, but this patch of ground was a perfect diamond shape.

  Dr. Drake smiled.

  “It’s an obvious sign, really,” he said. “I wonder that we missed it before.”