by Lucinda Hare
‘Quenelda, don’t be angry with my people. They could not have done otherwise. You need a battlegalleon to transport a single Imperial. The clans have no such ships. And even if they did, where would they have taken him? How do you hide an Imperial? Had they done so, all would know him for the Earl’s dragon. It would have led them straight to your father. And as for leaving wounded men, they must have had good reason. We do not abandon our wounded to the hobgoblins. No, there was a purpose to it, ghastly though it seems.’
‘Soon after,’ Quenelda resumed. ‘Soon after the hobgoblins and men came – the Lord Protector himself took Storm …’ She trailed off, shuddering as she remembered that ugly rent in the sky that had devoured an Imperial. He … I don’t know how, was taken … a dark castle … but Storm fought … despite his wounds, he fought … the Protector could not defeat his Elder magic, could not break his bond with Papa. So he was collared and sold into servitude in the mines. But, Tangnost’ – Quenelda looked up at the dwarf, her eyes bright with hope – ‘he’s alive! We know Papa is alive! We know that he got away from the Westering Isles! We must find him – bring him home before the Queen is forced to marry! Papa will be able to stop the Lord Protector. He’ll be—’
Tangnost put a hand out to gently touch hers. Quenelda looked quizzically at him. ‘Quenelda,’ he said gently. ‘He may have long since died of his injuries. Or he may be too ill to challenge the Lord Hugo.’
‘No!’
‘Hush, lass.’ The dwarf calmed her. ‘If your father is alive, Quenelda, why hasn’t he come home? We have to consider that question.’
For the first time since her father’s disappearance, doubt crept into Quenelda’s mind. ‘Do you think he’s dead?’
‘No,’ Tangnost said, shaking his head. ‘I, too, believe your father is alive. Perhaps it is wishful thinking, but we have nothing to lose by trying to find him. We all loved him, and have suffered for it. Two Gulps,’ he swallowed, ‘died by my hand and you have been disinherited. Root, Quester and I are banished from Dragonsdome. Stormcracker has been badly wounded and is unlikely ever to be able to fly for the SDS again.’ He smiled, crooked teeth catching the firelight.
‘We will go and search for your father, who is at the heart of all our worlds. But do not get your hopes up too high.’ He gripped her hand, held it to his chest. ‘I would not see you hurt again.’
But already he too was planning ahead. It was a huge responsibility he was taking on, and would require detailed planning.
‘Autumn will soon be upon us,’ he mused out loud. ‘Stormcracker is still too weak for such an arduous quest. By the time he is fully recovered, flying conditions will be treacherous.’
‘But Storm and you …’ Quenelda protested. ‘You’ve both flown and fought all over the Highlands and Islands, and you’ve trained to fly in winter.’
‘I know, lass, but it’s very dangerous – madness, many would say, to go on such a mission, especially at this time of year. And there are thousands of islands and inlets in the Inner and Northern Isles, and nigh on fifty dwarf clans live there, half of whom are seafaring. It’s a vast area to search.’
He looked at Quenelda. ‘Even if we do find your father,’ he warned her, ‘we may not be in time to prevent the Queen’s marriage at the Midwinter Festival.’
But he, too, now held hope in his heart.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Broken Hearts
Physically, the dragon was slowly recovering. The best surgeons and dragonsmiths had worked their magic and the dragon’s own strength and powers began to return. Two Gulps Too Many and Quenelda were rarely from his side, yet the dragon remained listless. Over the last moon, the ulcerated sores that covered his body had begun to crust over, and then close. Under Quenelda’s guidance, several bones had been re-broken and reset, a tricky procedure, only made possible by her new-found assurance and skill in healing. Beneath the dulled tattered hide, hints of new-grown pebbled armour could be seen; and where it failed, the dragonsmiths had been grafting skilfully. But spiritually, the big dragon was dying, and everyone knew it – everyone except Quenelda.
‘I’m more than satisfied with his progress, and yet there is no sign of him shedding his skin.’ Tugging his long, luxuriant beard, Professor Rumspell, Dragon Isle’s senior surgeon, hesitated, watching Quenelda assist a dragonsmith with the careful grafting of new skin onto Stormcracker’s tail. ‘I’m guessing here, Dragonmaster, but I don’t think his physical injuries are the problem any more, terrible though they are. Of course, he will never be operationally fit enough to fly with the SDS; his injuries are too severe to cope with battle manoeuvres. But he should be able to shed his skin, to fly once again – and yet he cannot.’
The surgeon sighed. ‘I think it is guilt and grief combined. His spirit is broken. Without Quenelda he would already have died. He cares enough to respond to her, but it is not sufficient. He’s slowly fading. A dragon raised by a Dragon Lord has an unbreakable bond – an echo of the Dragon Whisperers’ bond. Without the Earl and the SDS, he’s lost. It would be better had they both died rather than have him suffer this living death.’
Tangnost had a sudden thought. Thanking the surgeon, he strode over to Quenelda and Root, who were miserably watching the battledragon as he half-heartedly ate a small cauldron of brimstone offered by Quester. The youth had spent countless days waxing the huge dragon’s pebbled hide and oiling his talons under Tangnost’s guidance.
‘We’re approaching this the wrong way,’ the dwarf announced.
‘What do you mean?’ Quenelda was instantly alert to the change in Tangnost’s bearing.
‘We’re trying to get Stormcracker to shed his skin. Professor Rumspell says that physically he’s mending, gaining in strength every day; that there’s nothing stopping him trying to fly. But he’ll never be a battledragon again, never fight with the SDS; his whole purpose in life is gone. It’s a sickness of the spirit that is holding him back. He—’
‘He’s pining,’ Quenelda finished for him. ‘He’s pining!’ Hands on head, she shouted, suddenly alive, suddenly laughing, hugging Tangnost. ‘Of course!’ How could I have missed something so obvious?
‘What?’ Root looked baffled.
Tangnost nodded, knowing that Quenelda had understood. ‘He’s consumed by guilt,’ he explained to Root. ‘He sees no point in living because he believes he abandoned the Earl.’
‘Tell him what we’re planning, Quenelda.’ He watched the battledragon. ‘Tell him that if he gets fit enough, we’re going to search for your father. Maybe that will make a difference, if he has something left to fight for.’
‘Yes!’ With a hopeful smile and a bounce in her step, Quenelda went over, Root following behind. Stormcracker was yearning for her father – just like her! Why hadn’t she realized that?
We are going to find Thunder Rolling over the Mountains? The battledragon’s golden eyes lit up with sudden hope, and Quenelda knew with a rush of adrenaline that he was going to be alright.
Yes. One-Eye will help us …
Stormcracker shuddered, and let out a long soft breath, his muzzle lipping at Quenelda’s shoulder. The glint in his eye grew stronger. He raised his massive head towards the sky and bellowed, an earth-shaking challenge that rattled the combs of Dragon Isle. A challenge had been thrown down to those who had betrayed the SDS.
But you must be strong. The path is treacherous. The No Wings who betrayed us will try and stop us, will try and kill us before we find him.
The dragon creatures from the Abyss … they will fight us?
Quenelda nodded. You must be strong to defend us, to hide us. We have to find the path you took, find Thunder Rolling over the Mountains and then bring him home safely to roost here on Dragon Isle. We are going on a quest …
I will be strong, Dancing with Dragons … the battledragon promised, smoke pouring from his nostrils. I will build up my strength so that we can face the dark together.
Stormcracker’s eyes locked with Quenelda�
��s, before he turned back to his food – only to find it gone. Curled up in the empty cauldron, Two Gulps Too Many burped happily in his sleep.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Rising from the Ashes
‘Look.’ Quenelda grinned as the first frosts turned the gantries and landing pads of Dragon Isle white.
Root followed her gaze. Stormcracker was crunching his way through a Highland cow with obvious relish. The gnome couldn’t see anything unusual, and now it barely made him queasy to watch. For the last two weeks, the dragon had barely raised his muzzle from the feeding troughs. Despite that, he was looking in even worse condition: whole sections of his skin had sloughed off and were hanging in tatters, but he didn’t want to upset her by mentioning that.
He shrugged casually. ‘I can’t see anything …’
‘Wait – wait and watch,’ Quenelda said mysteriously.
Head raised, Stormcracker gulped down the last chunk of still-warm meat with a satisfied crunch. Then he leaned against a roost pole so hard that bits of his skin peeled away. Walking over, with Root at her heels, Quenelda reached down and picked up a piece of skin that had fallen off and gave it to her esquire, who looked at it blankly then returned it to Quenelda.
‘He’s shedding his skin, silly!’ She was grinning from ear to ear. ‘He’s shedding his skin! He’s going to be all right. He’s going to be able to fly again!’ She clasped Root in a hug. ‘We’re going to search for Papa!’
‘Can we do it?’ Quenelda was exhausted after a long week of exercises with Stormcracker, strengthening the battledragon’s wing tendons and muscles. She watched Tangnost, followed by Quester, complete his careful inspection, Two Gulps Too Many waddling solemnly behind. On his unconventional diet, the little dragon was growing so fast that he kept tripping up the Dragonmaster with his huge feet; Tangnost was resisting a growing urge to kick the fledgling.
Quenelda knew that getting the big dragon fit to fly to the frozen north was the least of the challenges facing them if they were to find her father. Doubts were beginning to assail her.
‘We’ve only been as far as the Brimstones. I don’t know how long this journey will take, or where it will lead us. I don’t know’ – Quenelda bit her lip: she didn’t have the right to ask Root to give up everything for her – for her quest; he’d already given so much – ‘whether we’ll …’
‘Whether we’ll ever come back?’ Root finished for her as he slid down to sit at her side, resting his head against one of Stormcracker’s huge talons. ‘I know that it will be very dangerous; that we’ll be hunted by hobgoblins and the Lord Protector.’ He smiled crookedly. Once he would have been petrified. He was petrified! ‘But think what the bards will have to sing about us in the future!’
Root grinned as Stormcracker’s head swung round to consider them both through grave, golden eyes. As he gave the huge battledragon a pat on the nose, Quenelda realized how much he had changed; how much they had all changed.
‘Think about it!’ Root said. ‘A quest to find a lost Dragon Lord; led by a legendary Bonecracker – the Earl’s shield – a Dragon Whisperer, and an apprentice made esquire, all flying on an injured battledragon brought back from the dead! How can we possibly fail?’
Waddling over to nestle against Stormcracker, Two Gulps Too Many hiccupped happily. Root ducked. Quenelda laughed as the noxious yellow flame licked about her. ‘Don’t worry – we won’t leave you behind!’
About the Author
Lucinda Hare was born in Scotland and spent her childhood years roaming the local woods with her dogs, imagining worlds where wolves, knights and dragons battled in deep forests. She and her husband share their Edinburgh home with an ever-changing number of rescue animals, ranging from cats, dogs, rabbits and guinea pigs to escaped battery hens on the run. She specializes in cruelty cases and animals with behavioural problems, and friends often comment that she can weave magic and talk to the animals – a real life ‘whisperer’! Her debut novel, The Dragon Whisperer, was shortlisted for the 2010 Royal Mail Scottish Book Awards.
Also by Lucinda Hare:
‘I urge anyone aged nine or over to snap this up … A battledragon of a book!’ Fantasy Book Review
‘This is in my top five Young Adult books of the year … it will be the hottest thing on the YA circuit’ Falcata Times
‘I think The Dragon Whisperer is the best book I have ever read (I have read a lot of books – in our house, we have about twelve thousand!). I think the way the words are written sounds like magic’ Rachel, aged 13
‘I haven’t been able to put it down!’ Jessica, aged 13
‘I cannot wait for the next book to come out’ Sarah, aged 10
Praise for The Dragon Whisperer:
‘It made me laugh, cry and remember exactly what’s so special about the time when you or your child lived in hope of finding a dragon of your own’ Amanda Craig, Sunday Times
‘In this sweeping novel of fantasy, action, adventure and coming of age, the reader will find beautiful dragons, a feisty heroine, and epic battles … This is a world that will immerse its reader in its magnificence and danger – compelling reading’ Write Away
‘It’s going to be a huge hit’ Jill Murphy, The Bookbag
‘What Harry Potter did for wizardry, this book does for tales of dragons’ Chicklish
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FLIGHT TO DRAGON ISLE
AN RHCB DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 409 02451 4
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This ebook edition published 2011
Copyright © Lucinda Hare, 2011
First Published in Great Britain by Corgi Childrens
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