In Deep Dark Wood

by Marita Conlon-McKenna

  Exhausted and filthy, they eventually made it to the other side, where they lay on the ground trying to get their breath back.

  ‘We should build a bridge over that filthy swamp!’ muttered Nilo. ‘I’m fed up having to go through it.’

  Bran looked up at the boy. Why hadn’t the giants thought of that before? There were enough of them to build a bridge if they put their minds and strength to it.

  ‘You have a wise head for one so young, Nilo. We will raise it at the next gathering.’

  The sun dried the mud on their skin and clothing, and finally, feeling more rested, they began to walk again.

  ‘What I need is a good hot bath!’ sighed Bran.

  ‘You won’t get that,’ said Nilo, ‘but I promise, soon we will be able to wash ourselves.’

  They trudged on for another hour and then came to a sudden halt. Bran lowered his shoulders so that Rory could jump down.

  A tumbling waterfall glittered and sparkled in front of them. They tested the water with their hands and it was ice cold.

  ‘It must come from deep within the mountain,’ said Bran. ‘It will invigorate us, but we should light a fire first so that we can warm and dry ourselves afterwards.’

  The three of them quickly gathered sticks and branches, piling them high, then Bran took a bronze tinderbox from his waistcoat and, with a few breaths, blew it into flame. They had a fire lit in no time. Then, stripping off their muddied clothes, their bodies caked in stinking ooze, Bran and Nilo ran under the freezing waterfall. The giants were shouting and enjoying themselves, as he would have enjoyed a hot shower at home, but he was glad to crouch at the fire and warm himself.

  Bran and Nilo produced a handful of huge potatoes which they roasted in their jackets, sprinkling them with salt. The waterfall provided them with an iced drink. They sat till the night drew in, safe in the comfort of the fire.

  ‘Tomorrow we reach the end of the Boundary,’ said Nilo, taking a bite from his roasted potato, ‘and we may get to see the dragon I told you of.’

  Exhausted and bone weary, Rory fell asleep, glad of the giants’ snoring on either side of him driving away the strange sounds that came from the darkness.

  The Dragon Keeper

  All eight young dragons were eager and excited when they were finally let out into the largest open courtyard. They stretched their wings and lashed out with their long, pointed tails. The rays of the sun warmed them, and the dragons’ skin sparkled like precious jewels in the light. They whined and yelped and made chirping noises, enjoying their freedom. Bella stroked and scratched them, her eyes filled with a strange excitement. Mia followed behind her.

  ‘Now, listen! Listen well,’ said Bella sternly. ‘There are important lessons to be learned today!’ Mia was unsure whether Bella was talking to her or to the dragons, though they all quietened down immediately.

  Bella moved among them, slowly inspecting their wings and muscle tone and strength.

  ‘As you already know, Mia, dragon wings are highly sensitive, and are all too easily injured or torn, taking weeks to heal. That is why it is important for a good dragon keeper to check her dragon before letting it fly. The loss of even one dragon is too much!’

  Mia nodded in agreement.

  ‘Also, that is why it is so important for the young dragons to learn to take off and land and swerve safely, without injuring themselves.’

  The old woman called the first dragon forward. Arznel was already much stronger and bigger than the rest.

  ‘Arznel, you will lift off slowly, westwards from the parapet, and fly around the castle. Circle it twice, follow the line of the lake below us, then drop slowly and land. I will guide you down.’ Bella whispered something into Arznel’s ears and the powerful, young, black dragon began to run, gathering speed. He moved heavily, reminding Mia of an ungainly swan, his huge wings flapping up and down awkwardly, before taking off smoothly.

  He flew away from them, then turned, his gleaming wings at full stretch as he circled high above their heads. They watched him as he flew up and up, almost to the top of the castle, and swung out into a wide circle.

  Arznel was a powerful flyer, and Mia could tell that he was scouting his new surroundings. Finally, he began to drop down, slowing gradually until he landed perfectly in front of Bella.

  ‘He’s a natural flyer, Mia, just look at his wingspan and the way he holds himself.’

  Mia had never seen anything so powerful and magical as Arznel. He was a handsome young dragon. Dink was next. He was a green dragon, and of a shorter and stouter build. Bella tried to encourage him, but it took at least five attempts before he managed a shuddering takeoff.

  ‘Look skywards! Skywards!’ ordered Bella, as he immediately began to lose height and drop towards them. With great effort, Dink managed to right himself and landed without injury. Rana, a medium-sized green, was next, taking wing easily.

  ‘Are you watching, Mia? See how Rana is leaning too far to the left, she must correct it without losing speed.’

  Mia loved the magical sound of dragon wings as they filled the courtyard. They took off one after the other, all doing their best to please Bella. Trig came to stand close to Bella snuffling at her hand for attention. But Bella ignored him. He wasn’t ready to fly yet and had to content himself with just watching the others, learning from their mistakes. Strength and courage gleamed from the emerald-green of his eyes, and Mia sensed that he would make a good flyer yet.

  All morning the dragons repeated the exercise, taking turns to fly and land. Bella suggested that Mia take a turn at instructing them.

  ‘They must get used to your voice, Mia child! Don’t be afraid!’

  It was an incredible thing to stand there, directing a magnificent young dragon in flight. Her eyes were glued to every move until each landed safely back on the ground.

  ‘Listen to me, child! Watch the dragons. You must learn to understand them, read their minds, so that in time you will be able to guide and control them.’

  Mia found that if she really concentrated, she could almost see what the dragons saw as they circled the castle. The connection between them was so strong, she could sense their nervousness as she guided them down safely.

  By lunchtime they were all exhausted and ravenous, and Mia was grateful for the big meal prepared by Gwenda. The dragons would rest for the afternoon, but Bella insisted that Mia join her in the library to study astronomy and astrology.

  ‘To become a dragon keeper and apprentice mage, you will need to develop a broad background in many subjects, including the sciences,’ she explained.

  Bella took down charts that showed her the positions of the planets and the stars and the various configurations. It was a lot for Mia to learn and remember.

  ‘I was only a wee bit of a girl, no more than three or four, when my mother began to teach me about dragons,’ confided Bella. ‘They say the younger an apprentice is, the better, magician’s daughter. All my long life I have worked with and trained dragons and, truth to tell, I know of no other way of life, and do not wish to.’

  ‘But there’s so much to learn, to understand,’ Mia pleaded.

  ‘That was exactly how I felt when Dracon, the druid and Great Mage, took me here to this castle for training. You will learn, Mia. I will teach you everything I know,’ promised Bella, hugging her gently.

  ‘I love the dragons, Bella, you know that, but soon I will be returning home. Remember, you promised me!’

  A look of ugly spitefulness crossed the old woman’s face and her hand squeezed at Mia’s neck, two fingers pressing against her throat, almost choking her.

  ‘You are a guest in my castle, child! You would do well to remember that! Attend to your studies, I have work to do.’

  Mia gasped, as the old witch woman stomped out and closed the library door firmly behind her. She couldn’t understand it, at times Bella was caring and loving and kind to her, brushing her hair, giving her extra feather pillows for her bed, fetching her warm drinks and hel
ping her, but today she had scared her. Was Bella someone she should fear or someone she could trust? It was so hard to know.

  Trying to concentrate, she learned off the patterns of stars that shaped the Great Bear, the Little Bear, the Plough, drawing them out on a piece of paper to help her remember them. The thought of Bella’s anger frightened Mia more than anything else, for there was no telling what the powerful old woman would do. And Mia was her captive, with no way of escape.

  The Boundary

  Rory and the giants woke with the sun’s rays warming their faces. They gathering up their things and began to walk. Rory noticed that he found this terrain easier, the overgrowth less dense, and the trees around him, though still towering above him, more of a height that he was used to. Bran’s heavy feet awkwardly squashed bushes and hedgerows as he strode through them.

  Nilo seemed alert and tense, every now and then his pale blue eyes glancing upwards to the clear, blue, unclouded sky.

  ‘What is it Nilo? Are we getting near?’ Bran asked.

  The boy giant shrugged, and seemed fearful and uncertain. Both giants, in fact, were uncomfortable and unused to the new surroundings.

  ‘We must leave you soon, Rory, as we are already within the territory of Arbor, the place of woods and forests. We call it Dark Wood. This is not our domain and we could injure ourselves in such close confines,’ said Bran gently, the branch of a tree almost sticking into his eye.

  ‘We should warn him of what lies ahead,’ blurted out Nilo, and Rory noticed a worried look pass between the giants.

  ‘Be careful, lad!’ warned Bran. ‘Dark Wood is full of all sorts of dangers, wild things that would attack a stranger. Wolves and twisting snakes that lurk in the ground and stinging insects that can kill a man in a few seconds, and those funny-looking beasts they call creepers!’

  Rory was puzzled – he had no idea what a creeper was.

  ‘Creepers are nasty things with a fierce bite,’ warned Nilo. ‘They look small and harmless with their big, soft eyes and twitchy noses and tails, but they’re vicious. Keep away from them!’

  In the valley below them, Rory could see a vast forest, a small river wound its way lazily through the dense undergrowth.

  ‘That forest below is most likely crawling with them,’ added Nilo.

  Something moved silently above the forest, bigger than any bird. Nilo began jumping up and down with excitement, pointing.

  ‘’Tis a dragon! I told you I saw one!’

  ‘Hush, boy!’ warned Bran. ‘Do you want the dragon to hear you?’

  They all watched as the dark shape circled over the tree tops. It flew round and round, then rose upwards, gaining height, heading in their direction.

  The young dragon flew steadily, each wing moving in rhythm as it searched the area.

  ‘We must hide!’ warned Bran. ‘Or else it’ll hear, or see, or smell us! They say a dragon can smell people a mile off.’

  He pulled the two of them in under the cover of a thick bush. As the dragon flew overhead, it threw back its head and gave a piercing cry, which almost froze Rory’s blood in his veins. They could hear the heavy flapping of its black wings, stretched taut over its bony frame, as the dragon circled overhead.

  ‘It smells us,’ whispered Bran. He drew his pipe from his pocket and, using the tinderbox, set the tobacco alight. Puffing deeply, he let the strong scent of tobacco waft around them. The dragon passed overhead again, uncertain now, flying so low that Rory could see the deep veins and patterns on its skin. It sniffed with curiosity and disdain at the smell of the tobacco. The dragon’s eyes gleamed brightly, then, with a last searching look, it rose high into the sky again and flew away from them.

  ‘Sky protect me, but there be dragons still!’ gasped Bran. ‘I never thought I would live to see the day that a dragon would fill the sky.’

  Rory sat on the grass, stunned into silence. He couldn’t believe it! An actual dragon. He’d seen it flying with his very own eyes. Fantasy come to life, and here he was stuck right in the middle of it all! Poor Mia must be terrified out of her wits. He was determined to go down into the forest immediately and continue his search for her. He stood up, ready to go.

  ‘Hold on, young fellow my lad, don’t be rushing to go down there yet or yon dragon might return. Take your time.’

  They made their way down into the valley and Rory knew that the giants were now in great danger as they were visible from any distance.

  ‘I’m sorry, Rory, but Nilo and I must return to Giants’ Cave,’ Bran finally announced, ‘though we hate leaving you here.’

  Rory nodded, not trusting himself to speak, lonely already, fearful and wishing they didn’t have to go. They shook hands solemnly.

  ‘I hope you find your sister,’ wished Nilo sincerely.

  Bran lifted him up in his arms and squeezed him hard to say goodbye. He passed him a small, well-folded length of parchment.

  ‘Birch drew out this map for you. She copied it from the Chronicles to give you some idea of the land you must pass through. ’Tis easy to get lost in those wild woods.’

  Rory studied it. The girl giant must have spent hours drawing out the scaled-down, miniature version of the map, with boundary lines and landmarks clearly marked for him: Terra, Arbor, Montan and Mare all defined, each a separate territory, making up the geography of Aland.

  ‘Thank you so much, both of you, for helping me, and for coming this far with me. Thank your wife and Birch too.’

  The giants strode off back up through the valley and Rory watched until the two huge, lumbering figures were out of sight. He was now on his own, and knew that in the forest, somewhere, there really were dragons and if he found them maybe he would find his sister, too.

  Dark Wood

  After a while, Rory set off into the wood. It was dark and gloomy there, and the canopy of treetops blocked the sun’s light from reaching the ground. Now he knew why they called it Dark Wood. Every sound was muffled too, except for the regular panting of his own breath and the smooth thumping of his footsteps, he could hear little else. From afar, the occasional high-pitched call of a bird broke the eerie silence.

  Nervous and lonely, he tried to pretend that he was out for a walk in Glenkilty Wood, heading along familiar paths. He was hampered by the enormous, snaking tree roots that twisted across the ground, and by the dense overgrowth of brambles and thorns that dogged his steps, slowing him down. All around him grew ancient oaks as big as ships, giant chestnuts and massive sycamores. There were no pathways or tracks of any kind, so he had to rely on guesswork and intuition to decide which way to go. His father had always told him to follow his instincts, jump in, and not be afraid. If he could find that dragon, then Mia was likely to be close by. Determined to be brave and rescue his sister, Rory began to sing and whistle, the sound filling the dead, empty air.

  He stopped to rest, finding a warm, sunny spot, where young, green shoots pushed up through the earth, searching for the light. He ate some of the bread, suddenly realising how hungry he was. In the distance he heard the soft gurgle of a stream, he managed to track it as it wove its way through a labyrinth of roots and stumps and mossy banks. He refilled his water bottle, thankful that at least he wouldn’t die of thirst, then splashed cool water on his face.

  Rory hoped that he wasn’t just walking round and round in circles. He regretted not joining the scouts, but then the Murphys had never been an outdoor type of family! He knew that he was ill-prepared and ill-equipped for this expedition, and despair filled his heart when he thought of Mia. She could never survive in this harsh world.

  As he moved through the woods, he had a constant sensation of being watched, often glimpsing a movement in the ferns and bracken out of the corner of his eye. He flung some stones to scare away what ever it was. He was terrified that it might be one of those creatures that Nilo and Bran had warned him of. He quickened his pace, trying to lose his stalker.

  Snakes slithered across his path, then disappeared rapidly into the d
ense undergrowth and rotting leaf-piles. Trying to avoid one of them, he stumbled over a jutting stump of blackthorn, wrenching his ankle and shin. The throbbing pain forced him to stay where he was for the night.

  The next morning, birdsong woke him, reminding him of home, but on opening his eyes he quickly remembered where he was. He moved his ankle and leg gingerly. No damage seemed to have been done. Sitting up, he was taken aback to find a furry creature almost at his toes. It reminded him of Snowy, their white rabbit at home, though its fur had patches of speckled brown and it was far bigger than their pet rabbit. Its long ears pricked up as Rory moved, and he could see teethmarks on his shoelaces where its sharp, pointed, white teeth had been nibbling. He sat up, scaring it away.

  ‘Shoo!’

  The creature hopped back, its nose twitching and its big eyes looking at him like some sad little kid. Standing up, Rory brushed the mud and dirt off himself, the furry animal watching him all the time. Opening his backpack, he took out a crust of bread, but it had hardened so much that he could scarcely chew it. In a temper he flung the stale bread to the ground, trying to banish all memory of his normal breakfasts of pancakes or muffins or hot toast. The furry animal sniffed at the bread, disdainfully at first, then lifted it, squirrel-like, in its paws and began to chew it.

  Rory started to walk, the thing hopping after him. Sometimes it would disappear and then he’d notice a flash of white in the undergrowth and it would be back again. He was glad of the company and it felt vaguely like having his dog, Jackie, along with him. At times, he thought he saw another flash of white and guessed that there might be two or three of them. Anyway, they seemed docile and harmless enough, and he had no reason to be scared of such gentle, rabbit-like, animals.

  Rory stopped to study Birch’s map, trying to hazard a guess as to where he was and how far he had come. Green lines criss-crossed everywhere, illustrating the density of the woods, but gave him few clues as to his whereabouts. He put the map back in his backpack and retrieved a last precious square of chocolate to give him some energy.