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Authors: Pete Townsend

BOOK: ISOF
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Swiftly removing one of the metal bands that decorated her arm, she examined the remains of the watch and strap. Her nimble fingers danced merrily until she returned the whole thing back to Ben. His eyes glowed in appreciation as he wrapped the bracelet and watch around his wrist.

Noj clicked his tongue impatiently.

‘Come on,' he urged. ‘Let's get out of here before it's too late.'

The group moved slowly towards the density of the forest, making sure that they kept to the deepest shadows to avoid discovery. A little way into the forest Alpak signalled the group to stop. Kneeling down, she quickly brushed some leaves from under a bush to reveal three walking sticks and the ornamental book that Pinchkin had entrusted to them.

‘Thought you might like these,' said Alpak with a look of satisfaction.

The three members of the group eagerly took possession of their staves while Ben quickly buried the book beneath his cloak. He gave Alpak another look of gratitude.

‘Thanks,' he mouthed. He turned to the other members of the group.

‘We're not going to leave right now are we?' he asked.

Noj looked at Ben in bemusement.

‘What?' he hissed.

Ben nodded towards the dragon cages.

‘We can't go and just leave those poor creatures all locked up in cages. It just isn't right.'

A chorus of dissent challenged Ben.

‘
We haven't got time. Don't be so soft. They're the least of our worries
.'

‘Perhaps next time,' suggested Alpak, eager to put time and space between the boys and the Cutters.

Ben stood his ground.

‘It's not right to keep animals caged.'

This time it was Trep's turn to snort.

‘This goody-two-shoes act is nothing more than a delaying tactic. You're trying to get us caught again.'

‘That's a load of rubbish and you know it,' hissed an exasperated Ben. ‘We're escaping, why can't we let these beasts experience a bit of freedom too?'

‘Because they wouldn't know what to do with it,' replied an increasingly angry Mak. ‘They get everything they need given to them in return for the occasional pyrotechnic display.'

Ben opened his mouth to speak just as Alpak touched his arm softly.

‘He's right you know,' she said. ‘They really don't know any other way of life now and could easily starve.'

It was Ben's turn to snort in disgust.

‘Well, he replied firmly. ‘It's about time they learnt what it is to be wild.'

‘There's more to it than that,' said Noj, placing an arm around Ben's shoulders. ‘As things stand, they're secure, fed and watered. Letting them run free would cause them a lot of stress.' He gave Ben a slap on the back. ‘Besides, these dragons are well known for getting easily upset, which tends to cause them a few digestive problems.'

‘Like what?' asked Ben, shrugging Noj's arm from his shoulders.

Mak and Trep both screwed their eyes up in disgust.

‘You really don't want to know,' replied Mak. ‘There are some experiences best left unexplored.'

‘Yeah, yeah,' replied Ben, and without waiting for any other comments, he disappeared in the direction of the cages.

‘Leave him be,' said Alpak as Trep made to run after Ben. ‘Come, we'll wait for him along the track.' With Alpak leading the way, the remaining three members of the group followed her into the forest.

Arriving back at the cages, Ben ran along pulling the bolts out of their restraining clasps. The barred doors slowly eased themselves away from their cages. For a few moments the dragons remained still, partly relishing their slumber and partly unsure what to do. Eventually, the open door became too much of a temptation for one dragon. Edging towards the edge of the cage, the dragon rolled its eyes from one side to the other, expecting any moment to hear a harsh command from one of the Cutters or feel the bite of a chain thrown around its body. Jumping from its cage the dragon stood blinking in its freedom. Gradually other dragons followed suit until all the cages stood empty. Ben, with his hands on his knees from the exertion, smiled. The first part of his plan had worked, now he needed to get the dragons moving away from the camp. Taking a deep breath he ran towards the dragons, waving his arms about.

‘Shoo, shoo. Go away, run for it,' he yelled.

The dragons, unused to any form of movement during the dark hours, stumbled around aimlessly trying to avoid the mad figure running towards them.

As Ben got closer, and his yells became louder, the dragons lurched out of his way, bumping in to each other in their panic. Suddenly, one young dragon, afraid of the commotion and in need of a touch of maternal comfort, hiccupped, belched loudly, and promptly spat a tongue of fire that singed the soft underbelly of a sleepy older dragon. Incensed by the unprovoked and painful awakening, the older dragon reared up in fury, tearing loose its chains and, bellowing loudly, immediately scorched the rear of the nearest dragon in retaliation. In a matter of moments, all of the older dragons were stomping around venting their anger at anything within reach of their fiery breath.

Ben stood amazed at the blazing carnage before him. Acrid smoke burnt his eyes as wooden cages turned into fierce bonfires. The dragons, having crisped everything in the immediate vicinity blundered and belched their way towards the rousing Cutters tents.

Faced with arm waving Cutters in front of them and roaring flames behind, the nervous disposition of the dragons added to the mayhem as their digestive systems began to implode. The earlier belches were now joined by emissions of intestinal gas as jets of flame issued from both ends of the dragons.

Now, in a total panic, the dragons lumbered into each other and, as a blazing herd, charged towards the main festival camp. Shouts erupted from everywhere as Cutters ran around with pails of water, desperately trying to quench the dragons and drench the tents before they went up in flames too.

Along the track, the rest of the group stood watching the plumes of smoke and showers of sparks heading skywards. The noise of burning havoc and cries of panic sounded in their ears as a smoke damaged and panting Ben joined them.

‘You and your stupid animal welfare.' muttered Noj. ‘We warned you of the consequences, and now see what your misguided actions have done.'

Before Ben had time to catch his breath and make a comment a loud explosion rent the sky. Heat prickled their faces as fingers of orange licked the sky. Daylight had arrived early in the Cutters camp.

Chapter 21

With the sound of flames in their ears, the group raced along the track, deeper into the depths of the forest. Behind them the Cutters camp was a confusion of running bodies, dragons nervously experiencing freedom and caravans behaving like hot coals.

In between gasps, Trep snarled at Ben.

‘I hope you're pleased with yourself.'

Ben was too exhausted to reply. His shoulders heaved in an attempt to re-inflate his lungs.
“Better a moments freedom for the dragons than a lifetimes captivity,”
he thought.

Noj brought the group to a halt beside a large oak.

‘Rest a moment,' he gasped.

The group didn't need any further encouragement. The forest echoed to the sound of rasping breath and lungs struggling to find a regular rhythm. Noj looked along the track.

‘They're far too busy to chase after us. They've got their hands full at the moment.'

The group gave a laugh of relief, while Ben couldn't stop himself grinning.

‘That's bought us some time and given them something else to think about,' he said, allowing the grin to broaden.

‘It's certainly done that all right,' Trep nodded in agreement. ‘The dragons have torched the place, just as we said they would. We told you they'd go wild,' he added with a shake of his head.

‘That's just the point,' argued Ben. ‘They're meant to be wild so let them be wild.'

‘That's all very well,' growled Trep. ‘But the trouble is, once they've sorted out that little lot,' he jerked his head back towards the blazing caravans, ‘they'll want to know how the dragons got loose in the first place. It won't take them long to figure it out.'

‘And,' said Noj with an arch of an eyebrow. ‘I did warn you that the dragons get stressed easily and when that happens…'

‘Methane,' chuckled Ben.

‘Add a spark,' said Trep with a grin.

‘An explosive combination,' laughed Ben.

‘That's as maybe,' replied Noj nudging Ben playfully on the shoulder. ‘But the real explosion will come if they catch us.'

‘Come on then,' smiled Alpak. ‘You need to put more space between you than there is between the Cutters ears.'

Ben groaned. ‘And I thought my jokes were poor.'

‘Laugh while you can,' replied Alpak, looking back at the shimmering orange sky. ‘The Cutters may be busy for a while, but sooner or later they'll be looking for retribution, and not being the smartest race on earth...'

Mak, who had been quiet up to this point, spat on the ground. ‘They'll not be thinking smart, just simple and effective.' He rubbed the tip of his shoe in the newly dampened earth. ‘And that's going to hurt, big time.'

Alpak nodded at the boys. ‘Look,' she said briskly. ‘I'll slip back while everyone is still distracted. I can try and divert them by saying I saw you running back the way you'd first arrived. But,' she added. ‘I suspect once Arodiron hears about your escape, he'll send search parties in every direction.' Giving them a quick smile, Alpak began to walk back towards the camp. ‘Go then,' she hissed. With a wave, she disappeared back along the track towards the flecks of colour dancing in the sky.

Before long, the glow of the Cutters camp became a speck in the distance as the group trudged through the retreating night. The lack of sleep made their feet feel heavy as legs struggled with motion.

Without warning the daylight switched on. Blinking, the group found themselves on a rocky path with scraggy gorse bushes on either side. The path wound its way around a craggy outcrop before it stopped at the edge of a huge gash in the rock floor. The group gathered at the end of the path and stared into the near distance. Before them, the gash stretched as far as the eye could see. To their right the gash narrowed but continued to cut its way through the earth. Looking to their left, the gash became broader as it pushed back the forest as it swept its way to the horizon.

Trep whistled. ‘Would you look at that?' he said in awe. ‘An incredible piece of natural sculpture.'

Noj's shoulders lifted themselves towards his ears. ‘It may be sculpture to you, but this may be the gorge that Pinchkin mentioned.' He shook his head momentarily. ‘What shall do we do now? Do we wait and see what happens or find a way across?'

‘Why don't we just wait here?' replied Mak sarcastically. ‘Before we know it, the Cutters will come along to thank us for the little warming present Ben left them.'

Ben blew out his cheeks and shook his head.

‘I'll run along the gorge to where it narrows and see if I can find a way across.'

Before anyone could argue, and leaving Mak speechless for once, Ben raced off along the edge of the gorge with more energy than he thought possible.

As loose rocks attempted to make him stumble, Ben was glad to be on his own and away from the constant jibes. He raced along the edge of the gorge looking into the widening cloud, while scraggy gorse bushes snatched at his legs in passing. Suddenly his progress came to a complete stop.

‘Ooomph!' exploded two pairs of lungs noisily.

Ben, rubbing at his head, sat in a winded heap on the floor. Looking between his fingers he saw an extraordinary sight. Right in front of him sat an odd collection of clothes topped by an old deerstalker hat. Protruding from the sleeve of a multi-pocketed flying jacket, a hand tentatively touched the face that sat lopsided under the hat. The face began muttering and moaning.

‘You young oaf,' mumbled the face. ‘Hasn't your mother ever told you that it's preferable to look in the same direction as that to which you're running?'

‘Sorry,' muttered Ben, not completely sure what the face had actually said.

‘Sorry is it?' asked the face. ‘Well, I'm sorry too. Sorry that you weren't looking where you were going, sorry that I bothered to get out of bed this morning and sorry that you choose to make an impression on me with your head.'

Ben sat back, his mouth wide open with surprise.

‘And you can close that,' instructed the face sharply. ‘Before you cause another accident. Somebody could fall into a hole as big as that.'

Ben promptly closed his mouth.

‘That's better. It's better for the wildlife too, some unsuspecting rabbit could have easily mistaken your mouth for its burrow.'

Ben was too taken aback to say anything.

‘Lost your tongue have you?'

‘No, I haven't,' replied Ben cautiously. ‘Anyway, you could have looked where you were going as well. It takes two to tangle.'

The pile of clothes with the face stood up.

‘So, Ben, not only have you got a tongue, it's a cheeky one at that.'

‘How on earth…' began Ben.

‘Know your name? I know far too many things, which often keep me awake at night.' Briel scratched at his chin. ‘Mind you, so does putting tomato chutney on my strawberry-jam sandwiches.'

A scrawny hand raised itself in front of Ben's face.

‘I know,' rasped the face. ‘I'm old enough to know better but I'm also old enough,' continued the face with a hit of a smile. ‘To know that knowing better isn't always the better for knowing it!'

Without further comment, a scrawny hand grasped Ben by the wrist and pulled him to his feet.

‘Now,' continued the face. ‘Introductions. Hello, you're Ben.' The hand began scratching at the Deerstalker. ‘That means I must be...ah, yes, got it. Hello, I'm Briel.'

The hand pumped Ben's.

‘Pleased to meet you,' replied Ben.

‘Right then Ben, you'd better take me to the rest of your group. They should have recovered by now.'

And with that, Briel marched off back along the edge of the gorge.

Ben sat where he was, stunned both physically and mentally. A few moments later, Briel trotted back.

‘Wrong way,' he panted.

Ben, with a smile forming, followed Briel, leaving sufficient distance between them to avoid any further collisions.

The rest of the group were busy talking amongst themselves as Briel marched straight up to them.

‘Right you lot. On your feet and look sharp.'

The group responded automatically to Briel's command, and then stood around wondering what they were doing.

Briel rummaged inside his many pockets, pulled out a pair of glasses and began polishing them.

‘Just in case you were wondering what you were doing here, I'd better tell you.' Briel pointed towards the gorge with his glasses. ‘Look over there.'

Briel placed the glasses on his nose and peered into the gorge.

Deep below a dense mist swirled within the depths of the gorge. The rest of the group carefully followed Briel's example and immediately jumped back clutching their noses.

‘Phew, what is that awful stink?' At least that's what Briel thought Trep said, but it was rather difficult to understand someone talking with their nose pinched between two fingers.

Briel adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath.

‘That is an aroma formed over centuries. You can smell history you know'

The group took a further couple of steps away from the gorge, the sight and smell thought Ben, was very much up-to-date.

‘That,' gestured Briel, ‘is the next part of your journey.'

The group took a cautious step forward, craned their necks to peer into the gorge and immediately backed away again.

‘Not down you dew drops,' tutted Briel impatiently. ‘Across,' he emphasised with a vigorous wave of his glasses.

Cupping his hands to his mouth, he made a series of sighing noises. The group looked at each other, baffled by the antics of the original madman of the forest.

Suddenly, the swirling mist began to rise up the sides of the gorge. Slowly, a fraction at a time, it crept towards the waiting figures.

Eventually, the mist stretched out in front of them like a giant carpet. Briel stood to one side and waved his hands towards the mist.

‘This way please, who's first?'

Nobody moved.

‘A wise choice,' grinned Briel. ‘Never trust a stranger.' And without another word, Briel ran straight over the edge of the gorge and disappeared in the swirling mists. A few moments later, he came trotting out of the mist and stood once again at the edge of the gorge.

‘See,' he said between snatches of breath. ‘Nothing to it if you just keep moving and don't look down.' He grinned at Ben. ‘Why don't you lead the way?'

‘Hang on a minute, Ben,' said Noj, raising his eyebrows. He edged towards the gorge and nodded towards the chasm ‘Easier said than done,' he remarked. ‘Besides, isn't it about time we knew a little more about what's expected of us before we go cloud surfing?'

Briel closed his eyes for a moment. As if reaching a decision, he looked around and then gestured the boys to move closer.

‘Trust me,' whispered Briel, nodding sagely.

‘I think we might like a little more explanation than that,' said Ben, looking at the others for confirmation. ‘I think we've exhausted the ‘
trust me'
, and possibly want a little more of the
‘tell me',
now.'

Briel smiled and indicated the gorge with a discreet inclination of his head. ‘What you see isn't quite what you think you see, if you see my meaning.' Looking at the collection of vacant expressions, he gave a slight
tut
! ‘What you need to understand,' he said slowly and firmly, ‘is that the best way forward doesn't always look like the best way forward.'

The still vacant expressions began to irritate Briel. ‘Look,' he said sternly pointing at the mist. ‘It doesn't look the best way because it is not supposed to look the best way, that would be far too easy.'

Ben frowned. He looked at the others who appeared equally puzzled. ‘A sort of bluff?' he asked.

Briel clapped his hands together. ‘Well done that man,' he laughed. ‘Do geography at school do you?'

Ben began to nod uncertainly. ‘Er, yes,' he replied.

‘You're correct on both counts,' said Briel. He fiddled with his glasses and then smiled at Ben. ‘It's both a steep cliff and a deliberate deception, clever lad.'

Ben, not at all sure what he was being clever about just gave a shrug. ‘Thanks,' he grinned.

Rubbing his hands together, Briel gestured at the gorge. ‘To the untutored eye, to step out into a gorge filled with mist isn't the most appropriate action to take and so,' he smiled broadly, ‘most folk would shake their head and walk along the gorge until they found a convenient way across. Yes?'

Four heads nodded in agreement.

‘Thus wasting many hours and, if you're lucky might even prove to large an obstacle and encourage your pursuer to go home.'

‘With any luck,' mumbled Trep.

‘Precisely. Now, for those better informed and with a nose for adventure,' Briel prodded Ben on the chest. ‘A walk across the gorge supported by the dense mist would be a wise choice.'

Noj, apparently, happy with Briel's explanation, had edged closer to the edge of the gorge and now stretched a foot out into the mist. After drawing a series of irregular circles in the mist, Noj slowly lowered his foot down into the mist. When it would go no lower, he slid his other foot along until both feet had disappeared beneath the mist.

Briel nodded.

‘Well done, that man. Right, Trep. Mak, fancy taking a turn?'

By now, the mist had crept over the edge of the gorge and was beginning to encircle them, with several threads of mist spiralling above their heads.

Nervously, Trep poked his foot into the mist. Feeling reassured that the mist felt firm under his foot and that Noj hadn't disappeared from sight, he moved slowly forward until he stood next to Noj. He grinned.

‘Come on, Mak,' he called. ‘It's not as bad as you think.'

‘You don't know how bad I think it is,' growled Mak. With a cursory glance towards Briel, Mak stepped into the mist and began moving slowly forward with Trep and Noj.

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