“Right, Yllib, the arrow with the rope attached needs to go in hard and tight just up there, right next to that knob of red rock that’s sticking out.” He pointed to exactly where the arrow needed to hit and ensured that the Hircuman understood. “Right, Yllib, it’s up to you now!”
Roger stood back with the rest of the group and they all waited with bated breath as Yllib raised his crossbow. He tightly secured the rope to an arrow and took careful aim. Roger felt the tension in the air as Yllib tensed the string of his bow. Droplets of sweat were beading all over Roger’s face and he knew it wasn’t just from the heat blasting up from the magma below. Time itself seemed to stop as they all froze with anticipation. Then Yllib pulled the trigger of his bow and let the arrow and rope fly.
Then … thunk! It hit exactly where Roger had indicated. All they had to do now was swing right across to the other side and as quickly as possible.
Without any delay Yllib grabbed hold of Mary and swung himself off the cliff edge while she clung to him as tightly as she could. Down below her she could see the swirling lake of flaming magma. They were moving too quickly for the Fire-Sharks to catch them though.
Then Yllib cried out, “Brace yourself, Mary!” Then they were rolling, sprawling on the floor of the exit vent.
The plan was working perfectly.
Yllib grabbed hold of the rope as it hung from directly above him. He gathered up several feet and retied it to another arrow. Then again took aim and fired the rope back up across the chasm. This time aiming for the tunnel roof right above his brother’s head, that he’d just escaped from. Then it was Roger, Regor and Nimp’s turn. This time Taog retrieved the arrow and freed the rope from it. Roger clung tightly to it and Nimp scurried up and sat on his shoulders and held on the rope there. Then Roger, with his heart threatening to explode and his stomach churning with fear, took his own running jump over the cliff edge.
This time though, the Fire-Sharks had cottoned on to what was happening and had swum purposefully toward the far end of the magma lake. There they were now much closer to where the desperate trapeze artists were making their landings.
But Regor was wide awake and aware of their evil intentions. Just as two great spurts of sizzling magma came flying toward them, he managed to create a bubble of his blue flame around them.
As the flaming Shark spit struck, it just steamed, sizzling on the surface of the bubble of blue and then melted away and they were saved from a very nasty scalding, landing safely on the other side.
Roger and Nimp quickly got to their feet and watched as Yllib once again took his turn with the arrow and rope and once again returned it with deadly accuracy to the roof of the higher vent.
There, Taog looped the rope around himself and Gran and told her to hold on to him as tightly as she could. Then they were off, the final pair, hurtling into space and flying across the flaming chasm. Roger and Mary stood watching tensely as Taog and Grannie Maddam swung rapidly towards them, both ready and eager to help Yllib catch them and get them safely away from the vent’s edge.
They were just yards away, when disaster struck. Flaming streams of magma flew upwards from the Fire-Sharks below and one caught them just before they could land. Grannie Maddam though was protected by her clinging to Taog’s back. But the full force of a spit of flaming magma had hit poor Taog in the left shoulder. There was nothing Grannie Maddam or anyone else could do.
The shock of the sudden blow and the searing pain of the flame caused Taog to let go of the rope. Roger stood staring petrified as a rock, as he saw Grannie Maddam and the Hircuman fall before his very eyes, hurtling towards the gaping maws of the circling Fire-Sharks down below.
CHAPTER 11:
TO HELL IN A HANDBAG!
Mary gave a terrified shriek. “No! Not my Grannie! Not my Grannie” she screamed, as she and Roger rushed to the edge and peered downwards into the seething hell-hole. Roger could hardly bring himself to look. He just couldn’t believe that Grannie Maddam and Taog could be snatched away from them just like that, suddenly plunged into a flaming sea of fiery death.
As he looked down his heart skipped a beat at the sight that met his eyes. They were both alive!
Miraculously, Taog, with one hand, had managed to grab hold of the rope that dangled beneath him, and in fact very nearly reached to the surface of the magma lake. As he did so, despite his burning arm, he had also grabbed hold of Grannie Maddam with his other hand. A mere inch further, or another second gone by, and he would have missed, with both falling to their horrible deaths, devoured by the hungry Fire-Sharks waiting below.
They hung there, swinging and twirling in the smoky, red fumes. Grannie was beating at Taog’s arm and extinguishing the last of the flames. Despite the terrible pain he was in, Taog was still grimly hanging on for dear life. But they were now well and truly stuck. Without the use of both arms, there was no way he alone could pull them up the rope to the relative safety of the ledge. Roger immediately realized the danger. The Fire-Sharks were rearing up out of the magma lake, right beneath their two potential victims. Roger could see that there was no way the Fire-Sharks could possibly miss. Taog and Gran would be picked off any second by more flaming spit-balls.
Before Roger could shout or do anything though, Taog’s brother Yllib had leaned as far forward over the ledge as he could and was carefully aiming his crossbow down into the fiery pit.
Just as one Fire-Shark lunged upwards ready to spray its prey with a stream of fiery magma, Ylllib’s deadly bolt struck it in the eye. The mortally wounded Fire-Shark fell back and began thrashing madly about in its death throes.
The other Fire-Sharks seeing this immediately sprang into action, but not against Taog and Gran. There was far easier prey to be had. They had no qualms about consuming one of their very own. The weaker and the more wounded the better. The fiery magma now seethed and boiled in an eruption of frenzied feeding as the mortally wounded Fire-Shark was torn to pieces by its comrades.
This gave Roger the time he needed, the time to get into action and save his beloved friends.
“Carry on picking them off the best you can,” he shouted to Yllib.
Then he telepathed to Regor. “Regor, we need your blue dragon flame again. Can you create enough to protect them while we pull them up?”
“Yesh, Wodger, I cansh, they are nears enuff but I gets very tired an juss don’t knowsh how longsh for!”
“Well, do your best, we’ve got to get them up out of there. OK. Yllib won’t keep all those Fire-Sharks away with just one crossbow.”
Roger reached out for the taut rope and pulled it in towards him and then, along with Mary and Nimp, began heaving away to pull their two dangling friends up to safety.
“It’s no good,” Roger cried out. “Taog and Gran are too heavy for us!”
But help was at hand. Regor once again mind-cast his magical protective blue-flame into existence. It shimmered around Taog and Gran like a large, undulating bubble. And as soon as Yllib saw that it was in place and working he was able to lower his bow and help pull them up.
Streams of fiery magma came sizzling up from the smoky, hot cauldron wherein the Fire-Sharks frantically swam and leapt as high as they could towards their slowly ascending prey. But all their hot, gooey jets of magma were now of no use whatsoever; every streaming spit of it just splashed and melted away on the rippling surface of the bubble of blue-fire.
With Yllib’s help they were making real progress now. Roger could see that Taog and Gran were only a few feet below them and the Fire-Sharks seemed to have tired and ceased in their spitting.
But then he looked further down the rope and saw a sight that made him gasp in horror.
The rope was on fire!
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Roger realized that as long as the blue-flame held then the fire alone wouldn’t be able to penetrate that, but what if it burnt up the rope itself? Then the rescue would be over for there would be no rope for Taog and Gran to cling on to and they would on
ce again be tumbling down to their fiery dooms.
Then Roger choked a groan as he saw there was something even worse. As the red flames now licked and fumed ever higher up the rope, he could just make out lots of small, red, Imp-like creatures, swarming up the rope and riding ever higher with the ascending flames.
“Oh! by Aristotle’s ‘airy Armpits!” he shouted, pointing to them. “What on Erf are those horrible spidery, red things? They must be why the Fire-Sharks have stopped attacking!”
Nimp and Mary peered down to see for themselves. The creatures they saw were built very much like Nimp but were less than a quarter of his size. They were skinny and spindly limbed and they were a bright fiery, red colour, all except for their small, pointed black horns and the black tips of their long, arrow like tails. Nimp turned towards Roger and spoke in a quiet, horrified voice.
“Vay are called ver Red Imps, ver Fire-Imps zum callz vem. Ant vey can only live in ver fiery places of ver Under Erf. Vay are vun of many races of Imps in ver Under Erf ant vay are very evil ant poisonous creeturez. They too are controlled by the Lordz of ver Core. Vay sting their prey wiv their hornz ant their talez ant turn one’z blood into fire. Vee must zumhowz keep vem avay from Taog ant Grannie, or vay vill die zlowly ant in great agony.”
“Oh what are we going to do, Roger?” Mary cried. “If Regor’s blue flame gives out or the rope burns through first and they fall, either way, they’ve had it!”
“I don’t know!” Roger yelled back at her, feeling helpless and desperate. “We just have to pull them up before those Fire-Imps reach them, that’s all!”
But Roger could see that the Fire-Imps were gaining on their two victims quicker than they were able to pull them upward, even with Yllib’s help. Then he heard Regor’s childish but cool and calm tones flowing into his panicking, over-heated mind.
“Remember yoush are of dragon-kin too, Wodger. I cansh levitates them and bringsh them up, if yoush takes over the blue flamesh for me. But I can’t doos boths at once!”
“I can’t do that! What the Cavorting Curie are you on about, Regor. I’m not a dragon!”
“You an’ mees, wees are joined, Wodger. Trust mee, I knows yoush can doos this!”
“But, how can I?” he thought to Regor, feeling even more panicked and desperate now.
The Fire Imps were only a few feet away from Taog’s heels and were rapidly catching up.
“I can’t do magic, Regor, I’m not a witch or a dragon! Oh, what are we going to do?”
“Yoush are only what yoush says yous are, Wodger, and you have a Dwagon’s heart and yous can do thish! I pwomises! Jusht feel the flame and don’t thinksh about it. Jush bees it!”
Roger took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. He forced himself to calm down. Somehow he understood and just knew that Regor’s words were true. He didn’t have to think about it and make it all rational and scientific. The world was nothing like what they tried to teach him at school anyway. It wasn’t all just facts and logic; the world was in fact teeming with magic!
He reached out mentally to the glowing aura of blue flame that surrounded Taog and Gran and tentatively encompassed it with his own mind. He felt its radiant power filling him with a strange new sense of wonder. He merged with its purity and power and then realized that he actually could control it, at least for a bit, just as Regor had been doing and told him he could as well.
“Well donesh, Wodger. Keep the blue flamesh burning ash long ash poshible and I will levitates Taog and Grannie up to shafety.”
“OK, Regor, I will. But b-b-bring them up quickly, I’m new to this you know!”
“Me’s too!” murmured Regor.
Then Regor left the bubble of blue flame to Roger and began concentrating on levitating Taog and Grannie Madden up to the safety of the vent’s ledge.
Roger and Regor were now working together, as a team, and between them they were now winning. Taog, with Grannie hanging from his waist, was floating steadily up towards them.
Yllib saw what was happening and quickly yelled down to his brother.
“Let go of the rope, Taog. Trust in the dragon, he’ll get you and Gran up alright but those Red Imps can still reach you by the burning rope!”
Taog understood, he let go of the rope, and it was now even easier for Regor without the added weight of the yards of burning rope, along with a horde of Fire-Imps swarming up it.
Soon they were at the lip of the ledge. Yllib bent down to pull Taog over and then assisted Mary in doing the same for Gran. Nimp though turned his attention to the still ascending Fire-Imps, who were now only feet away from the edge of the vent themselves. He hurled a quick barrage of ‘dark bombs’ at them, causing many to splutter and fall back down to the magma lake below.
Taog had rolled over away from the edge and was breathing heavily, in pain, and holding his badly burned arm limply away from his fur-singed body. As Gran was pulled over the ledge Yllib cried out, “I must attend to my brother. You two attend Grannie Maddam. We must get them up and away from here as fast as we possibly can.”
Roger let the blue flame fade and Regor was finally able to end the levitation. He was exhausted and now weakly mind-cast to Roger.
“Wodger, I’m sowwy, I must west now. I’m vewwy tired and needs to sleeps. But well donesh; you’s a twue dwagon heart! I‘m vewwy pwoud of you!” And with that, he was asleep.
But then, as they were helping the weak and wounded, and started making their escape up the exit vent, disaster struck yet again. No one had noticed that a Fire-Imp had leapt from the rope at the very last second and was now hiding in the folds of Grannie Maddam’s skirt. Grannie was of course the first to find out.
“Oh, my bojjersome bejazzers!” she suddenly yelled at the top of her lungs. “Oh, Mary, me love, quick! I’ve been bitten by one them devil Imps … right on me bum!”
Mary and Roger rushed to her aid. Grannie Maddam was scrabbling at her skirts, desperately trying to get hold of the thing that had stung her. But the little blighter was just too quick. The spidery red imp jumped and dived over the edge of the vent. Nimp saw it making its escape and quickly hurled a ‘dark bomb’ after it, as it disappeared into the fiery furnace below.
“Did you get it?” Roger asked.
“I am not shorez,” Nimp answered sadly, “vut vot iz much more importantz iz savingz Grannie. Ver Fire Impz are deadly ant ver poison, it vill turnz her blood into ver liquid fire zoon. Vee must help her or she vill die!”
Grannie Maddam was already lying on the rocky floor and groaning. Her face was rigid with an ever increasing agony as she felt the poison spreading like flames through her veins.
She clawed at her granddaughter and grasped her hand tightly. “Listen, Mary, you ‘ave to be the witch for real now;” she croaked hoarsely, “there’s only one way you can save me now, but you must be strong and believe in yourself like never before, do you hear me, girl? I know this is all quick an news to yer, but you’re a witch too, Mary!”
“Oh! I hear you, Grannie,” she sobbed, “but wh-wh-what do I have to do?”
“You has to do the rope trick in reverse!” Grannie weakly smiled at her.
Mary looked down at her uncomprehendingly, tears spilling from her stinging eyes.
“Wh-wh-what do you mean, Gran?”
“You has to make me shorter like you made the rope longer. You has to miniaturize me Mary and put me into hibernation in me handbag. That’s the only ways I’ll survive this poison.”
“Oh Gran, I‒I don’t know if I can!”
“You ‘as no choice really, dearie. Now quick, I can’t hold out fer much longer.”
“All right, Gran, but how will we get you better? How will we get you out alive if I do?”
“Carry me in me handbag across the Black Heath to the Green Witch. She’ll know what to do. I should ‘ave told yer more. Now, fer Gawd’s sake, girl, juss do it, the pain is too much!”
Mary realized that there was no more time for questions. Her Gran was now wr
ithing about and unable to say any more. She just gripped her Granddaughter’s hand tighter than ever and moaned from the pain of the spreading poison.
Mary grabbed hold of the handbag with her other hand and thrust Grannie’s hand and then arm into it. She instinctively understood what powerful magic this was but she wasn’t going to let her Grannie down. She wasn’t going to stand by and let her Gran be taken away from her. No way!
She closed her eyes and concentrated.
Yllib, Taog, Nimp, Regor and Roger just stood by in silence, realizing the crucial importance of what was happening. If Mary couldn’t do this then there was no hope for Grannie Maddam at all. Mary visualized as vividly as she could what she wanted. She ‘saw’ her Gran cozily sleeping in a hospital bed under clean sheets, just like the one she’d had herself at the start of their adventure.
She wanted her Gran warm and safe and fast asleep, so she could take time needed to recover. Then Mary went even further into her dream vision. She saw her Gran grow smaller and smaller and inch by inch vanish into her own handbag. She saw her Gran grown as small as a ladybird.
Mary remembered how she used to play as a child in the woods and build pretend cottages from twigs and leaves and petals and berries and how she used to people these imaginary homes and palaces with beetles and ladybirds and other tiny denizens of the woods.
Mary opened her eyes. Her Gran was gone, but she knew exactly where she was!
“Quick now, Mistress Mary, we have to leave immediately!” Yllib spoke to her somberly but with a new tone of respect in his voice.
“I know,” she replied smiling tiredly. “I know. Gran’ll be O.K now. She’s safely tucked up in hospital in the handbag. She’s hibernating and safe for a while at least. So let’s get the hell out of this horrid hell-hole while we can, eh!”
“Do you need any help with carrying the bag?” Roger asked, still very concerned.
“No, it’s all right, Roj, I can manage. The Handbag is surprisingly light you know and anyway you’ve got Regor in your rucksack to carry and look after already.”
Dragon's Flight Page 11