‘I know you’re right,’ said the elf. ‘But one of these days we’ll push the children too far. Not even Merritt knows about what the dragon can do. No one other than you even understands the magic that dragon uses so we’re taking it all on trust, you know.’
‘I would think trust with me is the least of your worries. There are some secrets we cannot allow Balthasar to gain knowledge of. That dragon will be our best … what is the phrase … ace up the sleeve? Not that I have any sleeves to worry about.’
‘Yes, you are a rubbish partner at cards. But we’re going to need more than an ace if Balthasar gets wind of it.’
‘Don’t worry, my friend. Let’s get our boy through the race tonight and see what happens. Hmmm?’
Murdock swung his leg over his broomstick. ‘It’s a dangerous night to try this. The line between light and dark is thin tonight. The guards are so thick on the ground out on that course you could walk on their heads from one end to the other.’
‘Everywhere?’ said Bel, raising a feathery eyebrow.
It was extraordinary how a bird could appear so human at times, thought Murdock. ‘Well, not quite everywhere as you well know. But if anything goes wrong tonight I may be looking for a new job.’ With a quick kick from the ground the elf lifted quickly away from the parapets and out towards the forests around the castle.
Bel turned back to the sight below as final preparations for the race were made. All the teams had their mounts ready at the sign in. Rookwood’s latest addition sat riderless, though now with a saddle on its back. As he watched, Grady came back out to the waiting dragons to an enormous cheer from the green-clad fans.
A speaker boomed out over the cheers. ‘Owing to a late injury the Rookwood team have had to replace their third dragon rider – Hugh Fotheringham – with a replacement rider and dragon. The new rider is Grady O’Connell!’ The cheers from the crowd redoubled as the announcement was made. The phoenix allowed himself a smile as he faded into nothingness. Where the fiery bird had been moments before there now was nothing.
The shadows on the castle parapets hid more than Bel and Murdock. Behind one of the fireplace chimneys a deeper shadow moved. Anyone looking at the place where the shadows were might have seen a shift in patterns in the darkness, but no one was there to see.
‘I can’t believe they are setting him out like this, like bait in a trap.’ Whoever the voice was speaking to growled in a feral manner. But the growl was oddly feminine – guttural but smoother than the sound of a beast. ‘Can you all be ready in time? There are guards everywhere.’
‘We are always ready,’ said a voice in a whispering soft tone which spoke of charnel houses and decay. ‘Give us the chance and we will take him. The light is fading and we are growing stronger.’
‘Good,’ said the first voice. ‘Be ready. The mists are coming and tonight you will all be strong. Make use of it.’ The only reply was the sound of a whispering breeze on the windless night. A shadow detached itself from the deeper gloom and slid out across the battlements, down over the parapets and, keeping to the dark spaces along the buttresses of the wall, slid down to the ground. The rays of the lowering sun made dark patches for the shadow to move between. Now behind the castle it drifted silently out across the open spaces to the forest. As it did so a number of other shadows, more substantial than the first, moved out from under the eaves of the trees. They joined together like an oily slick before disappearing under the boughs of the forest canopy.
Back at the start line the final countdown was beginning. McHavering and Roland were both helping to settle the Rookwood team when the Scotsman looked up and said, ‘Och no. Here’s trouble.’ Roland and Grady looked to where McHavering was pointing. Three official-looking figures were striding towards them. Grady recognised one as a vampire – the pale, pale skin and unbelievably well-tailored suit were a dead giveaway. Whatever else you could say about vampires (and there was a LOT you could say about them) you couldn’t accuse them of wardrobe malfunctions. The second figure was short and stubby and carried a clipboard with the look of someone who relishes being in a position to carry a clipboard. Clipboards were not good. Anyone with a clipboard was either trying to sell you a raffle ticket, ask you to take part in a survey, or had a checklist they were going to audit you against. Grady did not like checklists. The third had the smug look of someone who believes they have right on their side or at least if not right, then the rule book which they believe broadly speaks for the same thing. They are also the sort of person who can roll out a seven letter bingo on a triple word play in scrabble with an obscure descriptor for bottled octopus ink AND know which page to go to in the dictionary to prove it when you challenge them. Grady immediately labelled them Clean Cut, Scrabbler, and Clipboard in his mind.
‘Ah, McHavering. Nice to see you,’ said Scrabbler
‘Finglas,’ nodded McHavering in greeting to Scrabbler. ‘Nice tae see y’ve brought the committee with ye tae wish us luck, no doubt? Nice suit, Van Helsing,’ said McHavering to the vampire before turning to Clipboard. ‘Hows yer pencil, Postelthwaite. Sharpened yer lead have ye?’ Clipboard didn’t reply but sniffed and scribbled something down on the top page before folding it over and readying his pencil for the next engagement. Grady thought he took the saying, that the pen was mightier than the sword, very seriously and looked ready for battle.
‘Valiant attempt to stay in the trophy race tonight McHavering, by bringing in some royal blood to the team. Shame though you’ll have to forfeit the race after all, isn’t it.’
‘Well it would be if we had tae do that but ye of all folk should noo we’re allowed a replacement dragon and rider up tae five minutes before the race.’
‘Well yes, that is correct.’ The smugness oozing from Scrabbler could have been bottled and the oily contents sold as a table polish at this stage. ‘But the replacement rider has to be on the official team list lodged with the Royal Interschool Dragon Racing Board and I believe the young prince here isn’t on the version lodged this morning?’ said Scrabbler, bowing low as he addressed Grady. The vampire standing to the side of Scrabbler held out an official-looking document which bore a royal crest at the top. Clipboard made an unnecessarily noisy tick as the list was presented and attempted to cast a clever Now what are you going to do look over the top of his wire rim spectacles.
McHavering took the list and scanned down it. After a moment he rolled it up and handed it back to the vampire. ‘Aye. Well, yon list was right. The laddies name wasn’t on it. But, ehh, I think you must nae have been checking ye facts too well, Finglas.’ McHavering reached inside his tunic and pulled out a similar-looking list and handed it over to Scrabbler. ‘But he is on the new list lodged wi the board this evening.’
Scrabbler looked disturbed for a moment before the vampire leaned over to whisper in his ear. After a moment he straightened up. ‘Yes, that would appear to be correct but the change needs to be lodged with the race committee – ah, that is us three of course – at least thirty minutes before the race, which I don’t believe any of us have seen?’ said Scrabbler to Clipboard. Without replying Clipboard made another expansive tick, cast an imperious look at McHavering and began hunting through the pages on his clipboard before shaking his head. Scrabbler turned back to McHavering, the satisfied smile becoming more satisfied by the moment. ‘Now if we don’t have that change we really must insist you withdraw your team – for the sake of fair competition which of course is our sole aim in the matter.
‘Well that would be the only fair way t’deal wi it but I think ye need tae check wi your other race officials before asking fer a team tae withdraw,’ said McHavering, nodding over Scrabbler’s shoulder.
Scrabbler turned round to see a flustered-looking clerk running up to the group waving a piece of paper in his pudgy hand. Without seeing the paper Scrabbler knew exactly what it would be. Sighing he turned back to McHavering with the smile melting off his face. ‘Hmmm. For someone who has your … reputation … you seem to be remarkab
ly well-informed and prepared. One might say unnaturally so. Well I shall be having words with the official team as you suggest. We shouldn’t really have these little moments, should we.’ Turning back to Grady Scrabbler cast a cold smile. ‘Good racing, young Prince. Most people survive their first college race. Most …’ Spinning on his heels Scrabbler turned and started to walk away. ‘Come, Van Helsing, Barnaby, we have a race to watch over here.’ The vampire smiled toothily, deliberately toothily, thought Grady, and followed after Scrabbler. Clipboard made an overly elaborate show of adding one or two crosses to his list before sniffing and without saying a word or offering a goodbye scuttled away across the courtyard.
‘Smarmy little buggers,’ said McHavering. ‘They love throwing the rules around so it always pays to be ready for them.’
‘They didn’t look happy,’ said Grady.
‘No, laddie. They will be oot tae cause as much trouble as possible, but believe me that’s nae worse than their usual nonsense.’
Grady’s brow creased in thought for a moment. ‘Ummm. Can I ask a question?’
‘Aye laddie. What?’
‘How did you know to register me before you even knew there was a problem with the other dragon?’
McHavering stiffened and stared off into the distance. ‘That’s a grand question lad and one day I’ll be sure tae gi ye an answer.’
McHavering was rescued from his discomfort by the sound of trumpets. ‘All teams and riders to the start lines please!’ boomed a loud voice.
‘Quick lad. Onto yer beastie … I mean Iris. Onto Iris and let’s get ye oot there.’
All the teams were bringing their dragons out to the front of the marshalling area where a big start-finish banner had been erected. The space on the forecourt was now full of the sixteen dragons that would be racing that night. Titania’s sleek dragons stood almost motionless with their riders looking composed in their grey and silver riding kit. Sandune College looked as ready as they ever would with their riders joking and laughing amongst each other. Flamville’s team stood at attention beside their ugly mounts as if they were strutting. They knew they were a good team and wanted everyone around them to also know. Rookwood’s team was last onto the line. The first three riders were all riding school dragons. Grady’s viper was smaller and meaner-looking and stood out as starkly different. The viper sat looking askance at the other dragons, letting out slow growls if they sniffed too closely at her.
‘Titania College, ready?’ boomed the voice again.
‘Ready, Sir,’ replied the team captain.
‘Sandune College?’
‘Ready, dude. I mean Sir,’ said the long sandy-haired captain, laughing and waving at the announcer.
‘Flamville College?’
‘Aye SIR!’ shouted all four riders together.
‘What a pack of dicks!’ said Bree to Niamh in the stand.
‘Rookwood College?’
‘Ready Sir!’ said Hartley.
‘Riders for leg one – to the start line please!’
Four riders swung themselves onto the back of their mounts and lumbered to the start-finish line. Beside it was the tall post with the four golden hoops at the top – a long way off the ground, thought Grady, looking up. There was no breeze at this stage and the sun caught the edge of the hoops and sparkled off their rims.
‘Riders for leg two to four – to the marshalling areas please!’
‘This way, mate,’ said Connor to Grady. ‘We have to wait here till our leg comes round.’
‘How long does each lap take?’ asked Grady.
‘Well, this is the long course tonight so it’s about fifteen minutes for each rider. Normal school courses are about half that but this is the race everyone wants to win. If you win on here then all the professional scouts will keep an eye on you for the national championships. Some of the really good riders get contracts before they even leave school or get to train with the league academy – only the best riders get to train there though. Hell of a race for you to have to start with, isn’t it.’
For once Grady had no words. His mouth was dry, his tongue felt like sandpaper.
‘Here we go,’ said Connor. ‘They’re ready!’
On the start line the four teams had lined up beside each other. The big screens above the stands burst into life as the countdown began. Ten, nine, eight, seven, went the countdown clock. The crowd started to chant along with the countdown.
Six, five, four – Grady couldn’t believe how loudly his heart was thumping. The noise of the crowd, the sight of the screens, the dragons all gathered together, and his first dragon race when he didn’t really know how to ride a dragon!
Three, two one! BOOM!!
Chapter 22
Dragon Race
From the castle walls above a cannon fired out over the heads of the crowd, but instead of cannon balls there was an explosion of colours and lights as fireworks rocketed overhead – spinning Catherine wheels, blooms of red, white, blue and gold, and finally the crest of each of the schools appearing outlined with bright sparklers before fading away.
The dragon riders on the line didn’t take any notice of the display though. As soon as the cannon sounded they dug their heels into the side of their mounts and spurred them into the air, leaping away from the ground in a burst of speed and power that left Niamh breathless. Grady looking on from the side had to force himself to breathe again. The sight of the four dragons powering away into the sky, some flaming, and others bellowing, was simply mind-blowing.
On the screens above the stands the four dragons could be seen clearly. Grady looked out to where the racers had headed and saw several other dragons in the sky beside them. He realised that must be where the pictures were coming from. As the pictures scanned over each of the dragons two voices rang out over the loudspeakers; ‘Welcome everyone tonight to the 473rd running of the Interschool Dragon Derby. I’m Bill Lunchwell here for tonight’s commentary. It’s going to be a great night’s racing and in the commentary box beside me as ever is my expert comments man Murray Maxply.’
‘Yes, good evening Bill. Nice to see your waistline is living up to your surname.’
‘Hah! Yes – that’s a good one Murray. It never gets boring hearing you trot that out every race, but well done anyway,’ said Lunchwell through a plastic grin.
‘It’s a stellar evening for racing, Bill and it’s good to see the schools getting out in force to support their riders for what should be a hard fought race – Rookwood looking for their first win in years AND with the unexpected bonus of a mountain viper on their team, Flamville defending their unbeaten run, Titania and Sandune the dark horses, uurgh, dragons, sorry, dark dragons in this one. Who will be standing on the winner’s platform tonight?’
‘Unusually you’re right on the money there, Murray. That mountain viper and the unknown element of Prince Grady O’Connell as rider is the one thing no one expected tonight.’
‘Well it looks, Bill, like Flamville are trying to make a move on Rookwood here. Their lead rider and captain Scrutton McPorkflower has taken an early lead going into the first forest phase as they head down the mountain side.’
‘Unfortunate name that, isn’t it Murray. Sounds like a disease – “I’ve a bad case of the Scruttons” – would love to see the prescription for that one! But it looks like you’re right. Flamville do seem to be eking out a small lead as the riders plunge down towards the first hoop catch.’
‘This first circuit out from the castle is crucial, Bill. The riders follow the slope of the hills down a stretch of open tussock-covered ground but have to avoid the remnants of the old stumps from the battle forest. The race to get to the forest is the first battle the riders have to win – whoever has the lead entering the narrower forest trails will have a definite advantage as passing is tricky with a talented rider and a team of crack spell casters trying to put the other riders off.’
‘I remember your first effort in this very race more than twenty years ago now, Murray.
You never quite recovered from the concussion spell to the head, did you?’
‘Never did me any harm, Bill. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without that injury.’
‘You are absolutely right there, Murray!’ said Bill without a hint of irony in his voice.
Despite their laid-back style the Sandune College team was a close second as they closed on the forest. Rookwood was only a hairsbreadth behind with Titania riding in the wake of those two. As the line of trees marking the edge of the forest reared up in front of them the first of the spell casters opened fire. Bolts of red, green, silver and gold exploded around the riders as the spell casters tried to unsettle those heading into the first of the circlet capture zones.
The crowd in the stands back at the castle began chanting and cheering as the firing began. The atmosphere was festival-like and Niamh, her mum and her dad were cheering as loud as anyone. Devin was getting into the swing of the occasion and dancing in the stands beside Bree and Emily. The Flamville riders may have seemed like show-offs but Scrutton McPorkflower knew how to ride. As the bolts of the spell casters exploded around him he deftly wove between them and closed on the circlet. With the Sandune rider on his tail McPorkflower swooped down and reaching out, snatched the first circlet off the cross arm before circling back up and heading onward to the next target.
‘Great take by McPorkflower there, Murray,’ said Lunchwell.
‘Yes, but as we’ve seen in these epic encounters enjoining extremulous excitement, the famous first falters finally as Rookwood have taken the lead!’
‘I have no idea what you just said Murray, but we’ll get our translators to get back to you fans, so hopefully you can figure out what he just said. Take your pills Murray before you make another comment. Murray is right though, fans. The Rookwood team were obviously working to a plan on that one. Hartley didn’t even try to compete on that catch and the angle he’s ridden on the course has given him a huge lead as they head to the second catch zone.’
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