by Lari Don
“I can guess. If you get the answer wrong, you get eaten.”
“We don’t have to see her,” said Rona. “We can just keep looking for tokens.”
Helen shook her head. “We can look for tokens, find them, fight off their guardians and hold them in our hands. Then we can see them destroyed by dragons. That’s a waste of time and Yann doesn’t have time. We need a token by sunset tonight. So I’m going to ask the Great Dragon why she’s trying to kill Yann. Who’s coming with me?”
They all stood up.
Even Sapphire, who had turned almost grey with fear.
And they flew to meet the Great Dragon.
Chapter 21
Flying to meet the Great Dragon wasn’t simple.
Sapphire announced that non-dragons were not permitted to know the location of the Great Dragon’s hall, so her passengers must be blindfolded for the entire flight there and back.
Mallow provided a ribbon for Lavender and silk scarves for everyone else. They blindfolded each other, then set off on Sapphire’s back.
Helen had flown at night before, but even the darkest night isn’t totally black: there’s moonlight, or starlight, or light from the land below. But with a scarf tight over her eyes, she was completely blind, and with the unpredictable movement of the dragon under her and the fast air pummelling her, she felt very insecure.
The flight seemed to last for hours. Tangaroa, who was sitting behind Helen, whispered, “I think she’s flying in circles to confuse us.”
Then Sapphire slowed and Helen felt the familiar jolt of the dragon landing.
She put her hands up to push the scarf away, but Sapphire roared and Sylvie, sitting in front of her, said, “Keep the blindfolds on.”
Then there were more roars from all around them. Sapphire reared up, the friends on her back bumping into each other, held in place only by her spikes. Helen heard Sapphire roar in anger and felt a lurch as the dragon leapt forward. Lavender whispered in her ear, “Crag and the twins are here. Sapphire’s not happy with them.”
But Helen could hardly hear Lavender’s explanation past a crescendo of roars. This was even less secure than flying blind: sitting on the back of an arguing dragon, not able to see what was going on, not even able to understand the argument.
Suddenly, there was a lighter, higher dragon roar. All the other roars stopped. Whoever this dragon was, the rest listened and obeyed.
“Jewel is taking us into the great hall,” whispered Lavender.
Sapphire lurched into the air again, and Helen gripped her spikes tighter. But Sapphire didn’t fly upwards, she went straight forward. The sound of her wingbeats bounced back loud and close.
“Are we in a tunnel?” Helen whispered.
Tangaroa replied, “A tunnel or a gorge.”
When the echoes faded away, Sapphire landed, then growled. Helen felt Sylvie and Tangaroa slide away from her. Still blind, Helen followed, slipping down Sapphire’s bumpy sides.
Jewel chirped again. Sapphire argued loudly, but Jewel must have prevailed, because soon Sapphire grumbled at her friends. “Sapphire has to leave,” explained Lavender from Helen’s shoulder. “She can’t stay, in case she’s tempted to help us with the riddles.”
Sapphire roared one more comment, then Helen heard her flap off.
Lavender murmured, “She says she’ll see us outside.”
“Actually she says she hopes she’ll see us outside,” Sylvie muttered.
Jewel spoke again, in a formal singsong voice. Lavender translated more loudly now, as if she wanted Jewel to hear and approve her translations.
“Jewel, dux of the dragonlore class, will ask us one riddle now, and if it is answered correctly we may remove our blindfolds and see the great hall. If the second riddle is answered correctly, we may see the Great Dragon herself. If the third riddle is answered correctly, we may hear the Great Dragon and she will deign to hear us.”
Lavender paused as Jewel continued with her instructions. Once the dragon stopped, Lavender whispered, “Oh dear,” before speaking clearly again. “But the riddles are not for us all. The human is an intruder in our fabled world, so the human must answer the riddles herself and the human must pay the price if the answers are wrong. Do you understand?”
Lavender repeated, “Helen. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” sighed Helen. “I understand.”
Jewel asked the riddle, singing it like a bird. Lavender translated.
“The first riddle is:
You fight so hard against it,
Though fighting the wrong opponent will bring it closer.
You fear it every day,
Though once it arrives, you no longer care.
It can look good to the old, and impossible to the young.
It is the spice which gives flavour to life.
It is the full stop which gives meaning to the sentence.
It is…
Despite the blindfold, Helen could see the answer. The one thing they were all fighting, because Yann had fought the wrong opponent.
“It is…” she said into the darkness, “it is … death.”
The dragon she couldn’t see grunted and Lavender said, “We can take off the blindfolds.”
Helen tugged the scarf up onto her forehead.
First, she looked round, to check that all her friends were there. Lee, Catesby, Tangaroa, Sylvie, Rona and Lavender. All rubbing their eyes, or blinking.
Then she looked up. They were in a massive hall. The largest indoor space she’d ever been in. Bigger than the Chambers Street museum in Edinburgh or the Museum of Flight in East Lothian.
It wasn’t a cave. The black walls were built of cut stones the size of cars or cottages. Ledges jutted out from the walls, like balconies with no railings, occupied by dragons of all colours. Their scaled heads were peering down, watching the group below. Between the ledges were arches wide enough for flying dragons. The highest arch was so distant that it looked like the entrance to a doocot; the highest ledge was so far away that the dragon on it looked like a jewelled beetle.
Helen couldn’t see any stairs, no way to get higher than the floor without flying. That was probably why the dragons had nailed their treasure to the walls. Cups, swords, shields and crowns were glittering in the light of the flaming torches hanging around the hall. No thieving human could reach this treasure.
Jewel roared. Helen looked down from the dragons watching and the gold shining, and saw the white dragon staring at her.
Not wanting to show too much interest in the treasure, Helen glanced at the floor. The dragons were flying creatures and lived on the walls, so there was nothing on the stone floor but a layer of dust and a huge pile of grey rocks at the far end of the hall.
Now that her blindfold was off, Lavender hovered in front of Helen. “Jewel will ask the second riddle.”
Sylvie muttered, “I don’t see why we should pay any attention to a dragon who’s scared of aeroplanes.”
Jewel laughed and spat a ball of fire over the wolf-girl’s head.
Lavender murmured, “Apparently that was a ruse and we fell for it, just like the buckle fell.”
“I’m ready for the next riddle,” Helen said hastily, to stop Sylvie making more unwise comments.
Lavender translated, as Jewel grunted. “The second riddle,
We hope it lies behind most of our words,
But it never lies.
It is as sharp as a sword between friends,
Yet friendship is meaningless without it.
Helen glanced at Lee. He raised an eyebrow at her. She smiled and said, “The truth.”
Jewel nodded and called again. “Now we can see the Great Dragon,” Lavender explained.
Helen wondered which of the magnificent dragons above her was the ancient ancestor dragon.
But the floor rumbled, as the rocky grey pile at the end of the great hall stood up and thumped towards them.
It was a massive dragon. Bigger than a house. Bigger than the h
ill Helen had climbed with Lee. A knobbly crusty ancient dragon, with bright red eyes.
The Great Dragon roared.
“The third riddle is for us to hear her,” called Lavender.
The dragon shook her wide grey head and grunted.
“No, the third riddle is for Helen to hear her.”
“I can hear her now,” Helen muttered. “She’s pretty loud.”
“And so,” Lavender went on, “Helen must answer this herself.”
“We’ve already done that,” Helen said clearly. “Lavender will translate and I’ll answer.”
The Great Dragon stomped closer and roared again.
“Oh!” Lavender sounded surprised. “We all have to go. We have to leave Helen here on her own.”
At one huge rumbling roar from the Great Dragon, all the other dragons flapped off their ledges and glided out through the arches.
The dragon stepped right up to the fabled beasts and growled.
Lavender’s voice wobbled as she said, “The Great Dragon wants us to leave now. She wishes to speak to the human girl alone.”
“We can’t leave,” said Rona, “because Helen won’t understand the Great Dragon on her own.”
“We can’t leave,” said Lee, “because Helen won’t be safe on her own.”
The Great Dragon growled again.
Lee drew his sword. He stepped forward to stand between Helen and the Great Dragon. He was joined by Catesby flying above him, Tangaroa gripping his three-pronged spear, and Sylvie flickering into a wolf and crouching low.
The dragon rumbled.
Lavender flew to Helen and hid behind her head. “She’s not happy. She wants us to leave you alone.”
Lee said, “We will not leave her unprotected.”
Another roar. Lavender whispered, “Then she says we will not get the answers we seek.”
Helen pushed her way gently between Lee and Tangaroa. “Thanks for defending me. But she won’t help us if you threaten her. The Great Dragon isn’t our enemy. Please don’t turn her into one. So thanks, but leave me.”
The others stepped back, but Lee stepped forward to the huge dragon’s head.
Then the faery seemed to change shape. Helen could only see his back, not his face, but she thought he was growing taller and that the glamour of his shiny boots and glowing cloak was changing to something darker, almost scaly.
He spoke in a voice she couldn’t understand. He screamed something harsh at the Great Dragon and the dragon roared back.
He spoke again, looming a metre taller than normal, his shoulders hunched but also higher, his back bent. The dragon growled and sooty smoke belched out of her nostrils.
Lee turned round, suddenly his usual height again, with a smooth face and soft bright clothes. He nodded to Helen, sheathed his sword and led the others out, by the nearest ground-level arch, without saying a word.
Rona hesitated at the arch. “I could stay with you, Helen,” she called back. “I didn’t bring any weapons. I’m not threatening anyone.”
Helen knew it was harder for Rona to be brave than it was for Lee or the other trained fighters, so it meant even more. “I’ll be fine. Please go. I’ll see you soon.”
Helen turned round. The Great Dragon was shifting her landscape-sized body, swinging her tail like a giant cat, staring at Helen with huge red eyes.
Helen was tempted to run after her friends.
She had no chance of answering the third riddle correctly. How could she, when she wouldn’t understand the question? Riddles were hard enough when they were asked in English.
The Great Dragon grunted. A low resonating questioning grunt.
Helen knelt down, partly to show respect for this ancient dragon, partly because her legs were shaking.
The Great Dragon repeated the question impatiently.
And Helen knew that if she gave the wrong answer, she would be this dragon’s next meal.
Chapter 22
Helen gave the only answer she could to the Great Dragon’s riddle. “I don’t know what your question is, Great Dragon, so instead, let me introduce myself. I’m Helen Strang, I’m a bard and a healer, and I’m not here to answer questions. I’m here to ask them. I’m here to save the life of my friend Yann.”
The Great Dragon bent down and breathed on her. Helen wrapped her arms around her head and watched sparks bounce off the stone floor, wondering if she was being toasted before being eaten.
The dragon roared so loudly that the ground shook and Helen was deafened. But when her ears cleared, she could hear a voice. “Can you understand me, soft-bodied child?”
She still heard roaring, deep and rumbling, but she also heard clear words behind the roar. It was like hearing an extra note in the octave or seeing a new colour in the rainbow.
Helen nodded and looked up, to see the dragon move her lips and grunt gently. Again Helen understood, as the dragon said, “Good. The delay and imprecision of translators annoys me. This is a temporary ability, for my convenience, not a permanent gift. Your ears will be deaf to fabled beasts again once you leave my hall.
“But I am intrigued by your response to my riddle. Could you already hear me? Did you understand my question?”
Helen shook her head.
“Interesting. You answered perfectly. I asked the hardest riddle of all: who you truly are. You answered well. You know who and what you are, and you are clear about your purpose here. Such self-knowledge is rare. I hope for the same clarity when you speak to me. You may begin.”
Helen spoke in a voice which sounded pathetically small after that huge dragon roar. “I’ve answered three riddles, Great Dragon, so I believe I have a right to three questions in return.”
The dragon nodded. “But only three, child. I shall be counting.” She tapped her spear-length claws three times on the floor.
“First I want to ask why dragons have prevented us collecting the tokens which could save the life of our friend the centaur.”
The dragon tapped once. “That is one. Now ask the other two.”
“I’d rather hear the first answer before I frame the other questions, Great Dragon.” Helen bowed her head politely.
“The wisdom of a bard,” snorted the dragon. “I shall answer your first question. Two of my older warriors and a few of my young pupils have indeed prevented you getting the tokens, with sentry duty, ruses, nets and flames, because those tokens are being sought for a darker purpose than saving your friend.
“The Master of the Maze is using you. He needs your naïvety, your innocence and your love for your friend, because the tokens will not reveal themselves to those with evil intent. But once your good intentions have freed the tokens, he will take them from your soft weak hands and use them to build his own strength.
“So we cannot let you have them. I have no enmity towards this son of the centaurs. I do not particularly wish to see him die, but I cannot allow you to have the tokens which would save him.”
Helen bit her lip as she tried to think of a way to argue against that rock-solid refusal.
“I see you doubt me, child,” said the dragon. “But this is how evil works, turning goodness to its own ends.”
Helen needed to find out more, but she wanted to save her second and third questions. She spoke carefully, not raising the tone of her voice at the end of the sentence, so she wasn’t asking a question. “The Master wants the tokens to heal his blind eye.”
“He wants his eye healed,” agreed the dragon, “but he has also been promised that if he uses a healing token at the equinox, the sight in that eye will become greater than ever.”
Helen didn’t ask. She just waited patiently.
The dragon smiled, which was not reassuring, because her mouth was filled with long cracked teeth. “Wise and patient child! The healing would give him the power to see not just light and dark, but to see the weakness in everyone. Then he could target hidden weaknesses, secret weaknesses, weaknesses not yet known to those who believe themselves strong.
Helen said slowly, “The Master I’ve met is strong, but he doesn’t have magic. He couldn’t use the tokens to heal himself.”
“He does not need to heal himself. He has the Three to do it for him.”
“But the Three are going to heal Yann! How…” Helen stopped herself before that became a question.
The dragon laughed. “The Three do not usually take sides either. They enjoy injuries, suffering and blood. That’s why they are healers, to spend time at the bedsides of those in pain. They are especially keen to heal warriors and monsters, those who inflict more wounds for them to heal. The Master is using you to get the token for himself, but the Three are using all of you. They will heal the Master, hoping he will cause more chaos. It is interesting that they are also keen to heal your friend. Perhaps you should question whether the world is a better place with him, or without him.”
Helen stood up. “The world is definitely a better place with Yann.”
“But it is a much better place without the Master seeing all our weaknesses.”
“So you would sacrifice Yann to stop the Master.” Again, a statement, not a question.
“Yes. The horse-boy means little to me or my people. He means little to the world. The Master is a real danger. It is necessary to sacrifice one to stop the other.”
Helen swallowed her anger. Arguing with this dragon wouldn’t help Yann; she had to offer solutions. “If you don’t want the Master to see everyone’s weaknesses, yours included, then let us heal Yann. Because Yann could stop him.”