Amethyst (14 page)

Boldly Seer was pottering around in the group of furzz trees behind the cave, stripping off the young leaves and munching them. She snorted with pleasure when she saw them coming and flapped her wings, sending the loose snow whirling around in a mini blizzard.

‘Whoa!’ cried Squitcher. ‘Gently does it, Boldly, dear.’ ‘Awesome!’ Questrid gazed up at her, grinning. She towered over them.

‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ said Copper. ‘Her skin’s like fish scales, only softer. And she’s so shiny. Those lovely lacy wings.’

Squitcher said something in dragon-speak. The dragon closed her wings and put her large head down beside his tiny one, listening. Squitcher reached on tiptoe and whispered into her ear.

‘Boldly Seer’s jolly about it,’ he said. ‘She’ll take us.’

Three red and blue-hatted pixicles appeared with a large saddle. Two pixicles, one in a green hat and one in a yellow hat, brought a ladder and set it up against Boldly Seer’s side. It took two more pixicles to fix the saddle and harness onto the dragon’s back and buckle the girth.

‘Specially made,’ Squitcher told them. ‘Made for Boldly Seer. No other dragon just this back-size, this back-shape.’

The saddle had four seats. Each seat had straps and harnesses to hold the passengers in place.

‘No reins?’ asked Questrid. He was used to strapping his horses to their sledge and was looking forward to steering Boldly Seer.

‘Outrageous-rude suggestion,’ squeaked Squitcher. ‘She is dragon Queen and needs no reins. Just much respect. All aboard!’ he shouted. ‘All aboard for a jolly adventure! Watch out for her whirlings and upside-down flyings,’ he said. ‘Buckle up! Also watch out for he-dragons. Boldly seeks a mate.’

‘Blimey!’ said Questrid. He sat down and pulled his straps round tightly.

‘Did he say upside down?’ whispered Copper.

Squitcher tied the flaps of his blue hat down firmly and buckled his straps. ‘Here we go!’ he called.

He leaned forward and spoke to the dragon.

As soon as Boldly Seer heard his words, she lifted herself up onto her toes. Her massive wings burst apart with a loud, papery sound. She surged forward and broke into a run. She didn’t run smoothly, but like a lolloping camel, throwing her passengers from side to side. Amy couldn’t stop a little scream escaping. Boldly Seer beat her wings; they thrashed and flapped like tents in a gale. Snow swirled into the air. The ground rushed by.

‘One, two, three!’ cried Squitcher.

With a tremendous whoosh and surge of muscle, Boldly Seer rose into the air.

‘Yahoo!’ cried Questrid.

Amy gripped the sides of her seat until her fingers hurt. She squeezed her lips together tightly. She looked down and saw the pixicles cheering and waving their coloured hats in the air. It looked for a moment like it was raining giant smarties.

Boldly Seer flew straight up over the hillside, tilting over the white houses. Then she swerved and cut out across the valley. There was suddenly more and more space between them and the ground. They were very high.

The rushing air was filled with the sound of Boldly Seer’s wings; a sound like a paper kite filling with air and throbbing against the air currents. With each beat of her wings, Amy felt the dragon’s muscles working and her body stretching and bending beneath her.

The distant mountains were tinged with colour, as if someone had spilled pink, orange, purple and red paint over them. The colours were reflected in Boldly Seer’s wings; they flashed like giant butterflies.

‘This is wonderful!’ Questrid shouted.

‘Good. Sky very jolly,’ cried Squitcher.

Every now and then, rumbling, gurgling sounds rippled out of the dragon. Amy felt them vibrating through her legs. Each gurgle was followed by a snort, billowing smoke and sparks.

Boldly Seer climbed higher and higher.

‘I am so definitely going to be a Dragon-Master when I’m older,’ Questrid shouted into Amy’s ear. ‘Isn’t this fantastic!’

Amy nodded. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t enjoy it. She was worried. What was going to happen? She wanted to conjure up the wonderful feeling she’d got when she first came to Malachite Mountain. She needed to feel important again. Wanted. But now all she could see when she closed her eyes was Copper with Ralick bounding through the snow behind her. Or Copper and
Ralick whispering secrets to each other. Or Copper and Questrid on the lake, laughing. And Amy, always on the edge. Alone.

The other vivid picture she couldn’t get out of her head was the dreadful fortune she’d seen. That was etched into her brain as if chemically burnt into it. Please don’t let it come true … If only I could see my face. If only I had a mirror.

She remembered that Uncle John had said Granite was horrid on the outside because he was nasty on the inside. Is that like me? If I was nicer maybe I won’t end up ugly. Maybe I could tell Copper the truth. Really tell her. But will she ever forgive me?

They passed over the town of Antimakassar – a city of tall towers and a mighty castle. They swooped over a vast forest and along a valley. Then in the distance, they saw a glimmer of the strange green sheen of Malachite Mountain. Almost immediately clouds closed over it and it slipped from view.

‘Bad weather up ahead,’ called Squitcher. ‘Not very jolly I think.’

He was right. Minutes later, instead of the warm, bright sunshine, they found themselves flying into a dense, thick and clammy fog. It clung wetly to their clothes. They could not see anything further than an arm’s-length away.

Boldy Seer slowed down.

‘Don’t worry!’ Squitcher called. ‘Dragon has internal radar … but landing might be bone-rattling-bumpy.’

Amy felt Copper reach out and squeeze her arm
reassuringly. She wished she was the sort of person to respond with a word and a squeeze back. But she wasn’t. She couldn’t.

They flew onwards into the cloudy sky. Thick grey fog swirled round them. Sometimes it was so dense that they couldn’t see their own hands in front of their faces.

‘Coming down to ground-landing!’ called Squitcher. ‘Hold on. Brace! Brace!’

There was a massive jolt and thud as Boldly Seer hit the ground. Snow flew up over them. The dragon slithered, wings outstretched, and ploughed through the snow for twenty metres until she stopped.

‘Not bad,’ said Squitcher. ‘Everyone jolly? No hurtings?’

‘I’m fine. Where are we?’ said Copper.

‘Can’t see a thing,’ said Questrid. ‘Or maybe I can see some trees and of course some snow.’

‘We’ll all be jolly in a very few minutes, you’ll see,’ said Squitcher. ‘Stay where you are …’ He unbuckled his straps and slipped out of his seat down into the snow. ‘Back in a minute.’

Whirling fog obliterated everything. They sat in silence. The dragon tossed her head and panted. Amy felt her leathery sides going in and out like a concertina beneath her.

‘Did you hear something?’ said Questrid. ‘I definitely
heard
something …’

‘Me too …’ said Copper.

Now Amy heard it too. Something was howling.

It sounded like wolves.

‘Great,’ said Questrid. ‘We’re in fog thicker than mud, surrounded by wolves and our guide’s abandoned us.’

He slithered down from his seat. He patted Boldly Seer’s flank. ‘Thanks, Boldly Seer. That was great. I’d love to do that all over again. Come on down, you two.’

‘Is it safe?’ asked Amy. ‘Is that really wolves?’ She slithered down with Copper. They stood in a huddle beside the dragon.

‘Yes, I think it is,’ said Questrid. ‘Look, there’s a light!’

‘Hello! Hello again,’ called Squitcher. ‘Come this way. Wolfgang Zomart’s ready to welcome you in. Come.’

Copper took Amy’s arm. They followed Questrid towards the light.

‘I must settle Boldly Seer down to rest. Wolfgang has snugly-warm cave round the back for her,’ said Squitcher. ‘You go with Wolfgang.’

They couldn’t see Wolfgang in the thick hazy fog, but they heard him. He had a very heavy accent. ‘Come this way,’ he said, only it sounded like:
Kom ziss vay.
‘Don’t mind the wolves.’ He pronounced it
volves.
‘They’ll soon settle. Don’t mind them. Come.’

Wolfgang was standing at his open door. A welcoming yellow light shone out onto the snow. The wolves weren’t howling now, they were making yipping noises and barking. It still sounded scary.

‘
Ze Zanctuary
,’ said Wolfgang, spreading his arm out to show them.

‘He means Sanctuary, I think,’ said Copper, quietly.

Wolfgang’s skin was the colour and texture of a walnut. It was very brown and lined, from being out in the sun, Amy guessed, rather than from being old. His hair was bushy and streaked with grey. He had a wiry, grizzled beard which reached down to his waist. The whites of his eyes were the whitest she’d ever seen. He smiled round at them, nodding gently, and when he came to Amethyst, seemed to linger, studying her.

Amy squirmed. She was worried he had seen something unpleasant.

Squitcher came in. ‘I’ve settled Boldly Seer,’ he told them. ‘She’s sleepily-tired. Oh, Wolfgang, it’s jolly hot in here! I’ll melt in this heat.’

‘I didn’t know the ice visitor was coming,’ laughed Wolfgang. ‘Come in. Sit down, everyone. The friends of the Squitcher’s is a friends of mine.’ He pronounced Squitcher,
Skvitsher.

Wolfgang’s house was made of leather and wood, iron and stone all put together in a higgledy-piggledy way. A massive log fire burned in a great brick-lined fireplace. Pierced metal lanterns hung from the ceiling and from brackets on the walls, making sharply-patterned shadows on the surfaces, like black snowflakes. The floor was carpeted with reeds and strips of bark, pine needles and rushes.

The wolves were very close. Amy could hear them pacing back and forwards and whimpering.

‘What sort of a sanctuary is it?’ asked Questrid.

‘One for pixicles and humans,’ said Squitcher, with a chuckle.

‘For wolves,’ said Wolfgang. ‘For all ones needing it, too.’ Amy was sure he gave her a particular look as he said that.

‘We’re grateful,’ said Copper. ‘We’re on our way to Malachite Mountain. To find my wolf cub, Ralick.’

‘Not in this weather,’ said Wolfgang. ‘Not possible. You fall down the crevasse, you fall down the ravine. You wait till the fog is cleared away.’

‘We can’t!’ cried Copper. ‘I’ve got to find Ralick!’

‘No even find Malachite Mountain in this fog,’ said Wolfgang. ‘Rest first. Maybe it clear in two hours. Maybe it clear in five minutes. Can tell never.’

‘He’s right, Coppery One,’ said Squitcher. ‘Know it’s not jolly, but it’s best you do as he says.’

‘Besides,’ said Wolfgang, ‘visitors is rare. Come see wolves. Put minds at rest.’

Wolfgang unlatched the door alongside the fireplace.
It led straight through to a large barn.

‘Wow!’ Questrid said.

They flattened themselves against the barn wall.

‘Wow!’

There was a whole pack of wolves in the barn. They were padding backwards and forwards inside a fenced-off area. They bunched together and fixed their yellow eyes on the visitors.

The smell of the wolves was intense and pungent. Amy held her nose. There were half-gnawed bones on the floor amongst the sawdust. The air was cold.

‘Seven darlings need sanctuary at the moment,’ Wolfgang told them. ‘I find them injured or alone. I am bringing them here. Oh! Copper! Not too close! They’re dangerous!’

‘Of course they are,’ said Copper, quickly stepping away from the barrier. ‘I forgot. You see we’ve got tame ones at home.’

‘These wolves know only the mountains,’ said Wolfgang, rubbing at his beard. ‘They are wild. I feed them and care for them, but they’d take me for the
zandvitch
filling if I was careless.’

The seven wolves resumed pacing backwards and forwards on their big broad feet. Wolfgang started to describe their eating patterns and their particular habits and dislikes. Amy slipped back into the other room; she could not even pretend to be interested like Copper was.

Squitcher was sitting beside the open door fanning his pale face. Fog drifted in, then disappeared as it warmed.

He grinned at Amy. ‘Too stifling-hot,’ he said.

‘Me too.’ Amy scooped up a handful of snow from beside the door and smoothed it over her cheeks. ‘I long for ice and flatness. Crystals and stone.’

‘All there in Malachite Mountain, dear Rock girl, if that’ll make you jolly,’ said Squitcher. His eyes twinkled. For a moment Amy wondered if he was being sarcastic, but his pale blue eyes were gentle.

‘Yes,’ she replied. She sat beside him. ‘It is, I suppose.’

Squitcher’s little face was so kind, so open and trusting …

‘Squitcher, can I tell you something?’ she said. ‘Ask you something?’

‘Of course. How jolly!’ Squitcher sat up and clasped his hands over his knee, head on one side. ‘Ready-waiting.’

‘Squitcher, I am not a good person—’

‘Hah, that is not at all truly-honest!’ said Squitcher. ‘I see you being sad-unhappy, but you are not bad. You are helping your friend Coppery One. You are looking for her Ralick. You are a good girl.’

‘I want to be, but Squitcher … I started out with such bad intentions.’