Dragon's Flight

by S. R. Langley

  The tall, magnificent chamber was now open to the sky. Roger could see a few twinkling stars high above them. But what really made him gasp was seeing how tier after tier of the cleverly-fashioned balconies, that had once circled the inner walls of this tower, were now all blackened, broken and burnt. It was as if a huge and relentless fountain of flame had raged upwards and scoured out the entire innards of the Owl Parliament tree.

  “At least there wasn’t anything left alive in here when this happened,” Roger whispered to Mary, his voice still managing to echo in the heavy, fetid air around him. “There’s nothing here of any use at all though, so let’s go back down.”

  Mary nodded her silent agreement and they returned down to the entrance hall below.

  “We could probably make this as good an indoor camp space as any,” she suggested.

  “Yes, I s’pose so,” Roger replied, “but let’s take a look downstairs. That’s probably the Owl’s basement and we should check that out too.”

  Mary again nodded her assent and they descended, Roger as the bold knight taking the lead. As they reached the rough, wooden floor of the ‘basement’ level, Roger could see that circling around them was a series of arches. Some seemed to have a few barrels and boxes in them but most yawned dark and empty. The green glow down here was much less pronounced and within the arches the glow disappeared into murky darkness altogether.

  Roger shivered. “Anything could be lurking in those arches,” he croaked. “Let’s go back up.”

  “Hold on, Wodger,” Regor cried out, “there ish something down here; I’se can feels it!”

  “What is it, Regor, what can you sense? Is it a wild animal?” Mary gasped.

  “I don’tsh knowsh! I’se never felt a cweetcher like this before,” Regor whispered, “but there’s somefink defnittly over there,” and he indicated mentally towards a particular archway.

  Roger now bravely took to the fore once again and cautiously approached the gaping, dark hole. He shone his torch into it but it seemed empty. The ceiling seemed to narrow towards the floor and he’d no idea how deep it went, but he could feel a current of warm air flowing towards him.

  He was just about to give up and tell Regor that he must be mistaken, when he suddenly noticed, over against one side of the inky, dark recess, a smudge of something. Just a mere smear of some unknown, shadowy shape, lying there like a lighter shade of dark.

  With beating heart in throat, he stepped nearer, ready to run for it if some wild and rabid animal suddenly sprang out at him. He stepped another step nearer, playing his weak torchlight onto the shadowy, grey form lying before him.

  “Oh, by Tesla’s Titanic Towers!” he yelled. “Mary, quick, come and help. It’s Nimp, he’s alive … but he’s hurt … really, really bad!”

  CHAPTER 8:

  OF DEVILS & DECOYS.

  Mary came to Roger’s side and gasped in disbelief. Then she fell to her knees and took hold of one of the shadowy figure’s limp hands.

  “Oh Nimp! What’s happened to you? We thought you were dead!” she exclaimed.

  But Nimp lay there, unmoving and silent. He was barely conscious in fact. “I wonder how long he’s been lying here like this?” Roger wondered.

  “I’ve twied to look into hish mind, Wodjer, but it’s vewwy dark in there. I thinks hees been here a long times though,” Regor quietly reported.

  Nimp was lying on a makeshift bed of old straw and twigs and about him lay some old discarded wooden cups and boxes. He’d obviously been keeping himself barely alive, living on whatever he’d been able to find in the Owl’s store-rooms down here.

  Mary now examined him more closely. She had some rudimentary understanding of first aid and basic anatomy. She soon looked up at Roger though and sighed heavily. “He’s very bad, Roger; he’s got multiple fractures and I think both his legs are broken.” She paused, and her eyes brimmed with tears. “I just don’t understand how he’s managed to get himself down that hillside and into this tree. He must have dragged himself here somehow and he’s been here all alone for the last two weeks! Oh, Roger we should have looked for him!”

  Roger was beginning to feel guilty too, but then he remembered and realized that they weren’t the ones to blame at all. He knelt down by Mary and took her hand.

  “No, we thought he was dead, Mary, and we really didn’t have any choice, remember? We were being chased by those brutes, Morgrave and Morgrim. It’s not our fault, it’s theirs.”

  “Oh Roj, he’s been here all this time by himself, slowly dying. We’ve got to save him, we can’t let him die now that we’ve found him!”

  “Wee needsh to get himsh some medishins. Let’sh gets Grannie Maddensh quicklies!” came Regor’s sensible voice, piping urgently into their heads.

  “Right, you stay here with him, Mary. I won’t be long and I’ll be back with Gran before you know it!” Roger gave her a smile and was off.

  True to his word he was gone for mere minutes. There had been a moment’s difficulty though in getting Gran down the tunnel and through the small, round door. She’d had to get some magical ‘door-jam’ from her bag and smear all around it to make it big enough for her to get in. The very potent, acidic jam had quickly eaten away a brand-new entrance all around the old, small one.

  Gran quickly got to work, telling the children to wait a small distance away. Captain Caprinus had come with her, carrying her bag for her. Mary was still near to tears and Roger was trying to be as brave and as stoic as he could, for Mary’s sake. He didn’t want to add to her misery by collapsing into the tearful wreck that he really felt like he was right then.

  Grannie ordered some splints to be brought, “some good sturdy oak, about this size and this thick, if you please,” she indicated. Caprinus sent off one of his men, who waiting at the tunnel, to get some.

  “Nows, I needs a fire an’ some water,” she muttered, “so better get some firewood in ‘ere. We’ll clears a space an’ see that th’smoke can escape up through the top o’ the tree.”

  Caprinus sent another two of his men waiting at the tunnel to get some firewood and water too.

  “Now where’s me ol’ Mobile Cauldron then? Me ‘Dagda-2000?’ Best little cauldron on the market it is,” she muttered to herself as she rummaged through her bag once more. “Oh, here it is!” She chuckled. “This leaves no living creature unsatisfied. We juss needs ter get the right ingredients heated up and we’ll have ourselves a tasty tonic quicker than a chameleon’s tongue!”

  Grannie Maddam was in her element. All her pent-up Witchery was working at full blast now. She was brought the needed firewood and got a little fire going at the entrance of the archway where Nimp lay. She fumbled in her bag a bit and brought out a little silver fish and put this, along with a wee drop of the water into the tiny Dagda 2000 Cauldron and placed it on the fire.

  “There we are, dearies. Now for the goodies while the ‘fish-that-got-away’ does its work!”

  Roger and Mary had crept closer, totally intrigued as to what Gran was doing. The little silver fish had immediately begun swimming around and around the perimeter of the tiny cauldron. But every revolution it made though, the cauldron grew another inch bigger, as did the fish.

  “Oh, I see, that’s why it’s called the fish-that-got-away,” Roger whispered to Mary. “Fishermen are always telling stories about how big the fish that got away was, so this must be it, the actual real thing, it just gets bigger and bigger, along with its container!”

  Grannie pulled the flapping fish out as soon as she was happy with the size of the cauldron, then threw in various powders, potions, liquids and lotions that she pulled from out of her magical bag. Muttering such things as: “A drop of life-blood, some spring-flour, a few electric red-currents for a pick-me-up, and oh yes, a bottle of liquid moon-beams (90% proof), that’ll do the trick, I think!”

  She stirred the sparkling, silver-grey soup that ensued, bubbling away in the cauldron, for a good twenty minutes. Then picking up a nearby discarded wo
oden beaker, filled it full and put it to the semi-conscious Nimp’s lips.

  “Hold his head up for me, love,” Grannie asked Mary. “He needs ter get a good gob full.”

  Grannie ensured that Nimp did indeed get several good gob fulls. “Now, we just needs ter wait a short whiles; he should come round pretty soon,” she told the awaiting audience.

  Roger and Mary stood next to Gran, hand in hand and silently waited. The seconds seemed to stretch into miniature eternities.

  Then at last, a weak, spluttering cough came from Nimp, then several more and his eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was Grannie Maddam bending over him. He tried to move but Gran gently held him down, saying, “There, there, me brave Imp, I’m a friend. In fact we’s all friends.”

  She then signaled for Roger and Mary to come over and say their hellos, which they did. Both were now wreathed in joyful smiles as they knelt by his pallet.

  “Hello there, Nimp, I’m so happy you made it,” Mary gushed, beaming at him.

  “Yes, me too, old chap,” added Roger. “You really had us scared there for a while you know. W-w-we thought you’d had it for good.”

  Nimp was feeling stronger by the minute now and was able to sit up. Roger heaped some straw up behind his back to keep him propped up and comfortable.

  “Well, never thoughtz I’d ever seez you twoz again!” Nimp exclaimed, smiling weakly.

  “Now your bones have been battered an’ got a bit broke up but they’ll be mendin’ now,” Gran told him. “I’ve put some splints on yer legs coz they woz the worst, but you’ll mend up fine in a few hours. Juss rest an’ let ol’ Grannie Maddam’s Dagda broth do its work, alright, Mr. Nimp?”

  “Thank youz Madam Maddam, thank youz very, very muzzh!” Nimp replied.

  “Right, now waste not, want not!” Grannie called out to them all. “Grab a beaker or bowl an’ help yerselves to some of me ‘ot soup. This is a bottomless cauldron yer know so there’s plenty fer all, an’ it’ll do us all a wide-world o’ good I dare say.”

  Word soon got round and a line of the Hircumen quickly began forming at the oak tree’s tunnel. Captain Caprinus had to quickly order his lieutenants to make sure that the soup rations were doled out in an organized manner so all watch-outs were kept manned at all times. After a short while had passed where everyone in the lower hall had drunk at least a bowl or two of the tasty and fortifying Dagda Broth, the company sat down by Nimp’s bed and heard his tale.

  A horrific tale it was, of how he had confronted that giant, monster of a Fire-Worm Lord, Morgrim, on the upper flanks of Hooter’s Hill and how he’d darted about, casting his dark bombs at him. He’d been desperately trying to distract the vicious beast from chasing after Roger and Mary. But eventually, the monster had proved too powerful and had smashed down upon the lone Night Imp with the simple, evil intent of squashing him flat and grinding him into the dust.

  “Yes, we saw!” Mary burst out, wide-eyed. “But how did you escape then?

  “It waz juzt dump luckz really!” Nimp sighed. “Ver rocky shelf I voz on gave wayz just as Morgrimz crazhed onto meez. I voz flungz over ver edges and down a fissure in ver rockz.”

  “Oh, we thought you were surely dead under that huge monster Morgrim,” Mary cried.

  “Well, viz voz ver same fumerole vat Morgrim’z mad brother ver King Morgrave, burzt out of, right afterz. It voz ver fightingz of each otherz that diztracted vem from seeingz me. But I voz very badly hurt and voz unconscious for a long, long whilez after vat.”

  “How did you get here, to the Owl’s Parliament Tree, I mean?” Roger asked incredulously.

  “Yes, Hooter’s Hill was surrounded by the fire and the volcano had erupted and was pouring out magma everywhere. So how did you survive all that, Nimp?” Mary added.

  “Well vat voz anuzzzer stroke of very good luckz for me vat voz!” Nimp answered him, mysteriously. “Ve Night Impz are very good at finding our vayz in ver darkz you know.”

  He looked up at the concerned and friendly faces that surrounded him and then continued in a soft, choking voice. “But I very nearly didn’tz makez it at allz, iz zer real troof; I woz followed by ver Fire-Devilz all ver way ‘ere nearly.”

  “What do you mean?” Mary gently asked. “Do you mean those horrible, nasty Fire-Worms, those ‘Minions’ of the Fire-Worm Lords they had as their army, swarming after us?”

  “Oh no, Mistrezz Mary, not vose; vey were no problemz for me; I meanz ver real Fire Devilz. Vey are much worz than the minionz of Morgrimz. Fire Devilz are Impz like me but veyz are made of fire and brimstonez and are very bad Impzz!”

  “Oh I see,” exclaimed Mary, not entirely sure that she did.

  “How did you get away from these Devils then?” Roger enquired.

  Nimp was now feeling much improved and was feeling very pleased to have such an attentive audience. Roger, Mary, Gran, Caprinus and several of the Hircumen were waiting on his every word now and he wanted to ‘play to the crowd’ and make them cringe and cry at all the perils he’d overcome on that dreadful day and awful night.

  Grannie Madden suspected as much though and quietly and quickly interjected. “Best keep it ter the point, dearie, there’s lots goin’ on that we needs to fills yer in on. We’re not exactly out of the woods ‘ere ourselves yet, yer know!”

  “Well, yez, I understanz,” Nimp replied. “Vot happened voz vat I crawled through an unnerground networkz of tunnelz. But ver vent I went downz firzt led straight to ver main magma chamberz unner the volcano; it vosh vere vat I dizhturbed ver Fire-Devilz. Vey livez in ver volcanoze magma youz see and vey followed me. I still had my skillz wiv dark though so I woz ablez to hide from them and juzh made it herez, by ver skin of my hornzh!”

  He then turned and pointed to the back of the Archway they were all standing in. “If youz goes down vere, vat’z ver wayz I camez here from; vere’z a whole mazzif network of tunnelz vere; some are from ver new volcano itself and some are muzh older ones from the Oak Treezh. They leadzh right through ver volcano though.”

  “Hey, maybe we could get through to the other side of Hooters Hill using those tunnels?” Roger exclaimed loudly.

  “Yes, a good idea that, Roger, them there tunnels could be very useful fer us indeed!” Gran agreed, nodding at him with smiling approval.

  Then Roger and Grannie Maddam between them gave Nimp a quick but thorough briefing on all that had happened since his fall into the volcano two weeks before.

  “So, you see our problem, Mr. Nimp,” Gran finished, “we’re well an’ truly trapped on this ‘orrid ‘ill an’ needs a way to get through it and across what the Humdrums call the Black Heath. I’ve got friends across there an’ we’ll all be safe fer a while ‒ if we can gets there that is!”

  “Well, yezh, I can helpzh wiv vat!” Nimp answered brightly, “but I muzht warnz youz, besidez ver Fire Devilz chazing us, there’z ver erupzhunz and ver erfquakezh, vey have donez a lot of damagez to ver tunnelz so vee could eazhily getz lozt if vees not very careful!”

  “Hello, Mister Nimpsh, thish is Weegor the Dwagon Pwince; I can helpsh on thats. I can sees the tunnelsh in my head and can shares the mapsh of them wiv yous all.”

  It was Regor, suddenly joining in the conversation and so introducing himself at the same time. There was a slight pause and then Nimp answered, telepathically, now realizing what and who he was dealing with. He well knew that this not-yet-born royal Dragon was at the very heart of all their troubles and travails and was also, ultimately, their route to survival and success.

  “Vell, I zay! Hello my young Prinzheling, and I am zo very happiez to meetz youz!” he replied graciously. Then added, “And any helpz yooz can givez uzz iz mozht velcome!”

  “You’ll soon get used to him popping up, Nimp,” laughed Roger. “He’s not even born yet, but boy does he learn fast!”

  “Thank yoosh vewwy mush, Wodger,” Regor replied gravely, “and wif yoush as my one and only Humansh big bruvver, I amsh only learningsh fwom the vewwy besht!�
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  “Oh touché!” Roger murmured, chuckling in good humor.

  “Nowsh, I’m shorsh I cans find the waysh through ver volcano wiv the Night Impsh help, but we can’t takesh a whole troopsh of Hircumensh warriors vat way ash well. It’sh far too dangeroush for so manys!” Regor told them.

  “I have an idea about that!” Captain Caprinus now spoke up. “We are not here to just save ourselves but to save the Dragon Queen’s last egg and the deep magic and power that he inherits. So I propose a devilish decoy ploy!”

  He then outlined exactly what the devilish decoy ploy was. It was simple and brilliant!

  “I suggest a small force takes on the task of travelling under and through this volcano and so ensuring the young Prince and his Egg-bearers and companions get to their destination safely. But the majority of my Hircumen will be the decoys and so distract the Humdrums and draw them far from where the royal Prince and egg bearers truly are!”

  “But how will you Hircumen escape from so many dangerous humans out for our blood?” Roger exclaimed. “Surely they’ll all be looking out for us three in particular ‒ Grannie Maddam and two human children ‒ so why will they chase you and leave us alone up here?”

  “A very good question,” Caprinus answered. “The answer is very simple, dummies!”

  Before Roger could respond and object to the Hircumen leader calling them rude names, Grannie Madden quickly interjected.

  “Oh yes! Very good, Captain, I think that would work very well indeed!” she exclaimed. “Yes, we’ll make three jolly good dummies and set ‘em up on Jericho’s back. We’ve got lots of old wood an’ straw ‘ere, in this ol’ Parliament tree; an’ I’ve got some fings in me trusty handbag too, that’ll ‘elp wiv that as well.”

  “That only answers one of my questions though,” Roger piped up. “OK so they’ll more than likely follow you, thinking it’s us, but how will you get away? They’re all in jeeps and lorries and are armed too!”

  Captain Caprinus gave Roger a haughty stare, wondering if he was actually being serious or not. Then realizing that he wasn’t that well-schooled in the ways of the peoples of the Great Forests, he finally smiled and said, “Oh, do not worry yourself on that count, young Master, we are well versed in the arts of the chase. No prey can escape us and no hunter can catch us!”