by David Sinden
ULF CREPT ACROSS THE COURTYARD AND crouched in the flower bed outside Dr. Fielding’s office. He peered in through the window and saw Inspector Black talking.
“Are you snooping?” a little voice asked.
Ulf looked down. Tiana was sitting on a flower.
“Professor Farraway is a ghost,” he whispered to her. “He knows who’s got the dragon—it’s Marackai.”
“Marackai?” Tiana asked. “Who’s Marackai?”
“That’s what we’ve got to find out,” Ulf said.
Ulf and Tiana looked through the window. Inspector Black was sitting on the corner of Dr. Fielding’s desk, leafing through the pile of papers with the names and photos of the criminals.
“This will be very useful,” the Inspector said, smiling at Dr. Fielding. “I shall check out each and every one.”
The Inspector tapped the papers on the desk, straightening the pile, then put a rubber band around them.
“One more thing, Dr. Fielding,” he said. “May I borrow the giant? I should like to take him to Furnace Woods.”
“Orson?” Dr. Fielding asked. “Why do you need Orson?”
“I understand Mr. Orson can handle any large beast. If there’s a dragon that needs rescuing, I may need his expertise.”
“I’ll come too,” she said.
“No, Dr. Fielding. You must stay here and keep watch over the beast park,” Inspector Black told her. He looked left and then right. “The RSPCB must be guarded at all times. This criminal may still be after another fighting beast.”
“He’s taking Orson,” Ulf whispered to Tiana.
The Inspector straightened his hat and turned the collar up on his coat. “Well, there’s no time to lose. We must act now.”
“Quick, he’s leaving!” Ulf said.
Ulf and Tiana raced around into the yard as Inspector Black and Dr. Fielding came out of the side door of the house.
“Giant, we will need ropes, chains, and apples!” the Inspector called. Orson was leaning on the roof of the kit room, watching over the beast park.
“Apples?” Orson asked. “Did you say apples?”
“Lots of apples!” the Inspector told him.
“Orson, the Inspector needs you to go with him to Furnace Woods,” Dr. Fielding explained, walking across to the giant. “He’s located the Ring of Horrors.”
“I’ll open the truck,” Inspector Black said, striding past Ulf into the courtyard.
Orson helped Dr. Fielding carry ropes and chains from the kit room. On the end of one of the chains was a huge padlock. Orson slung them over his back. Then he ducked into the feed store and fetched two barrels full of apples, holding one in each hand.
Ulf ran over to the giant. “Why is the Inspector taking apples?” Ulf asked.
“Apples are tasty,” Orson said.
They loaded everything into the back of the truck.
“In you go, too, Mr. Orson,” the Inspector said.
“In the truck? But I usually walk,” Orson told him.
“There’s no time for that. In you get.”
Awkwardly, Orson stepped up and squeezed himself into the back of the truck. He had to bend over with his knees tucked against his chest.
Ulf looked at him hunched up inside. “Do you want me to come too?” he asked.
“You must stay here, werewolf,” the Inspector said.
Orson winked. “Thanks, Ulf, but I’ll be fine. Keep an eye on things here for me.”
“We will,” Tiana replied, hovering by Ulf’s side.
“There’s no time to chat,” Inspector Black said, shooing the fairy out of the way with his gloved hand. “We’re in a hurry.” He pushed past Ulf and slammed the back doors of the truck.
The Inspector climbed up into the front seat as Dr. Fielding opened the entrance gates. He revved the engine, and the truck’s wheels scrunched on the gravel.
Ulf saw Tiana lying on the ground. “Are you okay?” he asked, picking her up.
Sparkles fizzed weakly from her wings. She lay crumpled on Ulf’s hand as the truck drove off up the driveway.
“He hit me,” Tiana said. “Inspector Black hit me.’
Chapter 16
DR. FIELDING CLOSED THE ENTRANCE GATES. “Come on, Ulf, it’s time for your checkup,” she told him.
“There’s something wrong with Tiana,” Ulf said. He held out his hand to show Dr. Fielding. The little fairy was gripping on to the hairs on Ulf’s palm, trying not to topple. She looked pale.
Dr. Fielding knelt down. “What happened to you, Tiana?” she asked.
“I got bashed,” Tiana said.
“Inspector Black hit her,” Ulf explained.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to,” Dr. Fielding said. She checked the fairy’s wing. It was bent and crumpled like tissue paper. “It’s not broken but you’ve lost your sparkle, Tiana. No flying for a while. Come on, Ulf. We’ll get her comfortable.”
Ulf carried Tiana inside. He followed Dr. Fielding into her surgery, the room where she performed health checks and smaller operations.
Dr. Fielding placed Tiana on a ball of cotton wool. “You’ll be okay there, Tiana,” she said. “You need to rest.”
Tiana lay down and closed her eyes.
“Right, now let’s have a look at you, Ulf,” Dr. Fielding said.
Every month, on the day of his transformation, Dr. Fielding gave Ulf a full physical examination to monitor his development. The RSPCB kept records of all of their beasts, gathering as much scientific information as they could before the beasts were released back into the wild. Werewolves were no exception.
Ulf sat on the edge of the examination table.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” Dr. Fielding asked him, flicking through his medical records.
“Not much,” Ulf replied.
“You’re turning nocturnal,” Dr. Fielding told him. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel strong. I could have gone with Orson.”
“It isn’t safe for you, I’m afraid,” Dr. Fielding said.
“But I’m a werewolf. I’m not scared.”
“I need you here, Ulf, to help me guard the beasts.”
Dr. Fielding held his hand and pressed her fingers on his wrist, checking his pulse. She looked at her watch and counted.
“It’s racing,” she said. “Two hundred and twenty beats per minute.”
“Is that good?” Ulf asked.
“For a werewolf it is.”
Ulf opened his mouth, and Dr. Fielding looked inside.
“The tips of your fangs are coming through your gums,” she said.
Ulf’s jaw and tongue were getting longer. Dr. Fielding took a thermometer from her coat pocket. She popped it into Ulf’s mouth.
“Hold that there,” she said.
As Ulf rolled the thermometer with his tongue, Dr. Fielding picked up his medical records and began making notes.
“But what if Orson needs help?” Ulf asked, trying not to spit the thermometer out.
“Orson will be fine. You must look after yourself. It’s only a few hours until your transformation.”
She took the thermometer from Ulf’s mouth and looked at it, checking the temperature. “Your blood is warming up,” she said. “One hundred seventeen degrees.” She wiped the thermometer and placed it on the counter. “Now, let’s have a look at your skin.”
Ulf pulled off his T-shirt, and Dr. Fielding examined his back and chest.
“The hair is beginning to sprout,” she said. “Your shoulders and chest are getting bigger.”
Ulf’s skeleton was beginning to realign.
He stood against the wall, and Dr. Fielding measured his height.
“You’re almost an inch taller than normal,” she said.
From a metal shelf, she handed Ulf the pressure ball, a black rubber ball with a tube connected to a pressure gauge. Ulf squeezed the ball, and the dial on the gauge swung to the red zone.
“Good,” Dr. Fielding said. “Your muscles are str
engthening.”
She pointed to the eye chart on the far wall. “Now read me the last line.”
The letters were tiny.
“JV R Q P L B,” Ulf read clearly.
“Perfect vision,” Dr. Fielding said. “Your senses are sharpening. You can go up to the observatory and keep watch over the beast park. We’ll need your eyes now that Orson’s not here.”
“Can I go too?” a little voice asked. Tiana was sitting up on the ball of cotton wool.
“Ulf, will you look after Tiana?” Dr. Fielding asked. “I’ll be out in the Jeep if you need me. If you see anything suspicious, radio me straight away on my walkie-talkie.”
Ulf gently picked Tiana up and headed outside. He placed her in a patch of sunshine at the foot of the observatory tower.
“Wait here a moment,” he said. “I just need to get something.”
Ulf raced to his den and came back clutching The Book of Beasts.
“What’s that for?” Tiana asked.
“I’ll show you,” Ulf said, opening the door to the tower. He carried Tiana up the spiral staircase to the observatory at the top of Farraway Hall.
Chapter 17
AT THE BOTTOM OF A PIT IN FURNACE WOODS, the big man Bone was leaning on a sledgehammer, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Finished,” he called up.
The small man Blud was looking down, wiping his nose with a red rag. “Is it secure?” he asked.
Poking from the ground next to Bone’s foot was a huge metal ring. Bone kicked it, making sure it was firmly fastened. “That dragon won’t be going anywhere once she’s chained down.”
With the sledgehammer over his shoulder, Bone climbed the tall ladder up the pit wall. All around the top of the pit, wooden stakes were sticking out like spears. The big man clambered between them and pulled the ladder up. He stood on the edge of the pit, admiring his work.
“The Baron will be pleased,” Blud said.
“What else is he getting?” Bone asked. “The dragon can’t fight itself.”
Blud stuffed the red rag into his pocket. “Something from the RSPCB,” he said, sniggering.
Just then, they heard the sound of a truck in the distance. It was coming through the woods.
“Quick, hide!” Blud said.
Blud and Bone grabbed their tools and the ladder and ran into the bushes.
A large black truck drove into the clearing. It stopped, and Inspector Black jumped down from the driver’s seat. “We’re here, Mr. Orson,” he said, opening the back doors.
The giant squeezed out of the truck and saw the pit.
“Blimey,” Orson said. He stepped over to the edge and looked down. “That’s a Ring of Horrors, all right. Those stakes will stop anything escaping.”
“It looks like someone’s been here recently,” the Inspector told him, examining a footprint in the mud at the edge of the pit. “Get the apples, ropes, and chains, Mr. Orson. They could be back any minute.”
While Inspector Black examined the footprints, Orson unloaded everything from the back of the truck.
“What do you want me to do with all this?” Orson asked.
“Rescue the beast, of course. The ropes and chains are to secure the dragon. The apples, Mr. Orson, are for you—in case you get hungry. I need you to stay here and keep watch.”
“What are you going to do?”
From inside his coat, Inspector Black pulled out the bundle of papers that Dr. Fielding had given him.
“I’m going to check out these criminals.”
He got back into his truck. “Remember. Stay alert in case the beast hunter comes.” He started the engine. “We’ll catch him, Mr. Orson.”
Inspector Black gave a thumbs-up, then drove the truck out of the clearing.
“Right you are,” Orson called after him.
The giant placed the kit and the barrels at the edge of the clearing, then paced around the pit. He stepped slowly, glancing from side to side, looking out for criminals or dragons. The clearing was surrounded by tall trees. He peered through the branches into the shadows.
Around and around he went. And each time he circled the pit, he looked across at the two barrels and sniffed. He could smell the apples.
He stepped over to a barrel, reached in, and took out two handfuls of apples, then popped them into his mouth. They tasted delicious.
He glanced around at the bushes and trees.
There was no sign of anyone.
The woods were quiet.
It was tough keeping watch. There weren’t any beasts to rescue. In fact, there wasn’t really very much at all to do. Except eat.
Orson sat down on the ground with the two barrels on either side of him. He dug in, eating handful after handful of apples. They tasted sweet and juicy.
He scarfed two or three at a time, apple juice running down his chin.
“Mmmm, lovely apples,” he muttered.
In no time at all, the barrels were empty and the giant’s belly was full.
Orson leaned against a tree and stretched out his legs. As he kept watch, his eyes began to feel heavy.
He yawned. Soon he was snoring.
Just then, in the bushes, something moved.
Blud crept out wearing a gas mask. On his back was a cylinder of tranquilizer gas. While Orson snored, Blud pointed the tube under the giant’s nose and sprayed the gas.
The giant slumped to the ground.
Blud pulled off the gas mask. “Tie him up!” he called.
Bone stepped out from the bushes and picked up the ropes and chains beside Orson. He started wrapping them tightly around the giant’s legs. He wrapped Orson’s arms and tied his hands behind his back, locking them with the padlock.
Blud ran off through the trees as Bone wrapped the rope around the giant’s head, gagging his mouth.
There was the sound of an engine as a yellow crane trundled noisily into the clearing. Its caterpillar tracks squashed the bushes and trees in its path. Blud was sitting in the cab pulling levers. Attached to the arm of the crane was a long steel cable with a hook on its end. The crane belched smoke as Blud swung its arm above Orson.
Bone steadied the hook. As the hook lowered, he attached it to the ropes and chains around Orson’s ankles.
“Up you go,” Bone said.
Blud pulled the levers in the crane, and Orson lifted up off the ground, hanging upside down. He was as tall as the trees, swinging from side to side, and fast asleep.
“Let’s get out of here,” Bone called. He climbed up to the back of the cab behind Blud, and the crane drove into the woods, taking Orson with it.
Chapter 18
UP IN THE OBSERVATORY, ULF WAS FLICKING through The Book of Beasts. Tiana was sitting on the table by the window.
“Here we are,” Ulf said. “How to treat a fairy’s sparkle.” He showed Tiana the page.
Tiana looked at the words. “They’re all blurry,” she said.
Ulf read them to her: “If a fairy has lost its sparkle, it needs something sweet: a drop of honey, a blackberry, or a pinch of sugar.”
Ulf walked to the kettle in the corner of the room where Dr. Fielding made her tea. Next to the kettle was an RSPCB mug and a bowl of sugar cubes.
He picked up a sugar cube and gave it to Tiana. “Here you are,” he said. “Eat this.”
The fairy held the sugar cube in her arms and licked it. “Thank you,” she said weakly.
Ulf stepped over to the window. He looked out over the beast park to Troll Crag, the biodomes, and the aviary. The Roc was still lying on the ground.
“What did the book say about the Roc?” Ulf asked.
“It needs an orchid,” Tiana told him. “There are some in the forest.”
Ulf saw Dr. Fielding driving her Jeep across the marsh, heading for the seawater lagoon. Sunset Mountain looked still and quiet, casting a shadow over the Great Grazing Grounds. The big beasts were feeding in their enclosures.
Ulf scanned the perimeter fence from the hills to the ocean. �
��No sign of any intruders,” he said.
Tiana didn’t reply. She was busy licking the sugar cube.
Ulf looked across the room to the map on the wall. “Inspector Black said Marackai was a place in Africa.”
Tiana sat up, half a wet sugar cube in her arms. “I don’t like Inspector Black,” she said. “He’s not nice at all.”
The color was slowly coming back into her cheeks.
Ulf went to the big map on the wall and looked for Africa.
“Africa’s miles away from here,” he said. He looked for the word Marackai. “Madagascar, Mali, Morocco, Mozambique, Malawi, Mombassa…” There was no Marackai anywhere.
“Marackai!” Tiana shouted.
Ulf looked over.
Tiana was flapping her wings, trying to lift herself off the table. “Marackai! Look!”
Ulf ran to her.
She was sitting on the word Marackai. Ulf lifted her up.
Underneath her, on the table, was the newspaper clipping with the photograph of a man and boy watching a small dragon taking off from a garden lawn:
PROFESSOR FARRAWAY’S DRAGON
Next to the photo, Ulf read: “Lord Farraway, Professor of cryptozoology, and his son Marackai Farraway, releasing the RSPCB’s first dragon, Aziza.”
Ulf looked at the photograph. “Marackai is the Professor’s son!” he said.
“The boy?” Tiana asked.
“This photo was taken years ago. He’d be much older now.”
Just then, Ulf heard a tapping sound on the window. He looked up. Outside, Druce was hanging upside down, his nose pressed to the glass.
“Hello, Druce,” Tiana said.
The gargoyle put his finger to his lips. “Ssshhh,” he said.
“What do you want, Druce?” Ulf asked.
“Marrrrraaack-k-kai,” the gargoyle gurgled. “Wick-edest boy you ever saw. Face like a rotten apple core.”
Druce pointed at the newspaper clipping. Ulf looked closely at the photograph. The Professor’s son was scowling. His face was screwed up and twisted.
Druce slid open the window and leaned in. “He kills beasts just for fun. Prods and pokes them till he’s done.”
The boy in the photgraph was holding a stick. He was poking it at the dragon. The end had been sharpened to a point.