Maze Running and other Magical Missions (11 page)

Flying to meet the Great Dragon wasn’t simple.

Sapphire announced that non-dragons were not permitted to know the location of the Great Dragon’s hall, so her passengers must be blindfolded for the entire flight there and back.

Mallow provided a ribbon for Lavender and silk scarves for everyone else. They blindfolded each other, then set off on Sapphire’s back.

Helen had flown at night before, but even the darkest night isn’t totally black: there’s moonlight, or starlight, or light from the land below. But with a scarf tight over her eyes, she was completely blind, and with the unpredictable movement of the dragon under her and the fast air pummelling her, she felt very insecure.

The flight seemed to last for hours. Tangaroa, who was sitting behind Helen, whispered, “I think she’s flying in circles to confuse us.”

Then Sapphire slowed and Helen felt the familiar jolt of the dragon landing.

She put her hands up to push the scarf away, but Sapphire roared and Sylvie, sitting in front of her, said, “Keep the blindfolds on.” 

Then there were more roars from all around them. Sapphire reared up, the friends on her back bumping into each other, held in place only by her spikes. Helen heard Sapphire roar in anger and felt a lurch as the dragon leapt forward. Lavender whispered in her ear, “Crag and the twins are here. Sapphire’s not happy with them.”

But Helen could hardly hear Lavender’s explanation past a crescendo of roars. This was even less secure than flying blind: sitting on the back of an arguing dragon, not able to see what was going on, not even able to understand the argument.

Suddenly, there was a lighter, higher dragon roar. All the other roars stopped. Whoever this dragon was, the rest listened and obeyed.

“Jewel is taking us into the great hall,” whispered Lavender.

Sapphire lurched into the air again, and Helen gripped her spikes tighter. But Sapphire didn’t fly upwards, she went straight forward. The sound of her wingbeats bounced back loud and close.

“Are we in a tunnel?” Helen whispered.

Tangaroa replied, “A tunnel or a gorge.”

When the echoes faded away, Sapphire landed, then growled. Helen felt Sylvie and Tangaroa slide away from her. Still blind, Helen followed, slipping down Sapphire’s bumpy sides.

Jewel chirped again. Sapphire argued loudly, but Jewel must have prevailed, because soon Sapphire grumbled at her friends. “Sapphire has to leave,” explained Lavender from Helen’s shoulder. “She 
can’t stay, in case she’s tempted to help us with the riddles.”

Sapphire roared one more comment, then Helen heard her flap off.

Lavender murmured, “She says she’ll see us outside.”

“Actually she says she
hopes
she’ll see us outside,” Sylvie muttered.

Jewel spoke again, in a formal singsong voice. Lavender translated more loudly now, as if she wanted Jewel to hear and approve her translations.

“Jewel, dux of the dragonlore class, will ask us one riddle now, and if it is answered correctly we may remove our blindfolds and see the great hall. If the second riddle is answered correctly, we may see the Great Dragon herself. If the third riddle is answered correctly, we may hear the Great Dragon and she will deign to hear us.”

Lavender paused as Jewel continued with her instructions. Once the dragon stopped, Lavender whispered, “Oh dear,” before speaking clearly again. “But the riddles are not for us all. The human is an intruder in our fabled world, so the human must answer the riddles herself and the human must pay the price if the answers are wrong. Do you understand?”

Lavender repeated, “Helen. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” sighed Helen. “I understand.”

Jewel asked the riddle, singing it like a bird. Lavender translated.

“The first riddle is: 

Despite the blindfold, Helen could see the answer. The one thing they were all fighting, because Yann had fought the wrong opponent.

“It is…” she said into the darkness, “it is … death.”

The dragon she couldn’t see grunted and Lavender said, “We can take off the blindfolds.”

Helen tugged the scarf up onto her forehead.

First, she looked round, to check that all her friends were there. Lee, Catesby, Tangaroa, Sylvie, Rona and Lavender. All rubbing their eyes, or blinking.

Then she looked up. They were in a massive hall. The largest indoor space she’d ever been in. Bigger than the Chambers Street museum in Edinburgh or the Museum of Flight in East Lothian.

It wasn’t a cave. The black walls were built of cut stones the size of cars or cottages. Ledges jutted out from the walls, like balconies with no railings, occupied by dragons of all colours. Their scaled heads were peering down, watching the group below. Between the ledges were arches wide enough for flying dragons. The highest arch was so distant that it looked like the entrance to a doocot; the highest ledge 
was so far away that the dragon on it looked like a jewelled beetle.

Helen couldn’t see any stairs, no way to get higher than the floor without flying. That was probably why the dragons had nailed their treasure to the walls. Cups, swords, shields and crowns were glittering in the light of the flaming torches hanging around the hall. No thieving human could reach this treasure.

Jewel roared. Helen looked down from the dragons watching and the gold shining, and saw the white dragon staring at her.

Not wanting to show too much interest in the treasure, Helen glanced at the floor. The dragons were flying creatures and lived on the walls, so there was nothing on the stone floor but a layer of dust and a huge pile of grey rocks at the far end of the hall.

Now that her blindfold was off, Lavender hovered in front of Helen. “Jewel will ask the second riddle.”

Sylvie muttered, “I don’t see why we should pay any attention to a dragon who’s scared of aeroplanes.”

Jewel laughed and spat a ball of fire over the
wolf-girl’s
head.

Lavender murmured, “Apparently that was a ruse and we fell for it, just like the buckle fell.”

“I’m ready for the next riddle,” Helen said hastily, to stop Sylvie making more unwise comments.

Lavender translated, as Jewel grunted. “The second riddle,

Helen glanced at Lee. He raised an eyebrow at her. She smiled and said, “The truth.”

Jewel nodded and called again. “Now we can see the Great Dragon,” Lavender explained.

Helen wondered which of the magnificent dragons above her was the ancient ancestor dragon.

But the floor rumbled, as the rocky grey pile at the end of the great hall stood up and thumped towards them.

It was a massive dragon. Bigger than a house. Bigger than the hill Helen had climbed with Lee. A knobbly crusty ancient dragon, with bright red eyes.

The Great Dragon roared.

“The third riddle is for us to hear her,” called Lavender.

The dragon shook her wide grey head and grunted.

“No, the third riddle is for
Helen
to hear her.”

“I can hear her now,” Helen muttered. “She’s pretty loud.”

“And so,” Lavender went on, “Helen must answer this herself.”

“We’ve already done that,” Helen said clearly. “Lavender will translate and I’ll answer.”

The Great Dragon stomped closer and roared again.

“Oh!” Lavender sounded surprised. “We all have to go. We have to leave Helen here on her own.”

At one huge rumbling roar from the Great Dragon, 
all the other dragons flapped off their ledges and glided out through the arches.

The dragon stepped right up to the fabled beasts and growled.

Lavender’s voice wobbled as she said, “The Great Dragon wants us to leave now. She wishes to speak to the human girl alone.”

“We can’t leave,” said Rona, “because Helen won’t understand the Great Dragon on her own.”

“We can’t leave,” said Lee, “because Helen won’t be safe on her own.”

The Great Dragon growled again.

Lee drew his sword. He stepped forward to stand between Helen and the Great Dragon. He was joined by Catesby flying above him, Tangaroa gripping his three-pronged spear, and Sylvie flickering into a wolf and crouching low.

The dragon rumbled.

Lavender flew to Helen and hid behind her head. “She’s not happy. She wants us to leave you alone.”

Lee said, “We will not leave her unprotected.”

Another roar. Lavender whispered, “Then she says we will not get the answers we seek.”

Helen pushed her way gently between Lee and Tangaroa. “Thanks for defending me. But she won’t help us if you threaten her. The Great Dragon isn’t our enemy. Please don’t turn her into one. So thanks, but leave me.”

The others stepped back, but Lee stepped forward to the huge dragon’s head.

Then the faery seemed to change shape. Helen 
could only see his back, not his face, but she thought he was growing taller and that the glamour of his shiny boots and glowing cloak was changing to something darker, almost scaly.

He spoke in a voice she couldn’t understand. He screamed something harsh at the Great Dragon and the dragon roared back.

He spoke again, looming a metre taller than normal, his shoulders hunched but also higher, his back bent. The dragon growled and sooty smoke belched out of her nostrils.

Lee turned round, suddenly his usual height again, with a smooth face and soft bright clothes. He nodded to Helen, sheathed his sword and led the others out, by the nearest ground-level arch, without saying a word.

Rona hesitated at the arch. “I could stay with you, Helen,” she called back. “I didn’t bring any weapons. I’m not threatening anyone.”

Helen knew it was harder for Rona to be brave than it was for Lee or the other trained fighters, so it meant even more. “I’ll be fine. Please go. I’ll see you soon.”

Helen turned round. The Great Dragon was shifting her landscape-sized body, swinging her tail like a giant cat, staring at Helen with huge red eyes.

Helen was tempted to run after her friends.

She had no chance of answering the third riddle correctly. How could she, when she wouldn’t understand the question? Riddles were hard enough when they were asked in English.

The Great Dragon grunted. A low resonating questioning grunt. 

Helen knelt down, partly to show respect for this ancient dragon, partly because her legs were shaking.

The Great Dragon repeated the question impatiently.

And Helen knew that if she gave the wrong answer, she would be this dragon’s next meal.

Helen gave the only answer she could to the Great Dragon’s riddle. “I don’t know what your question is, Great Dragon, so instead, let me introduce myself. I’m Helen Strang, I’m a bard and a healer, and I’m not here to answer questions. I’m here to ask them. I’m here to save the life of my friend Yann.”

The Great Dragon bent down and breathed on her. Helen wrapped her arms around her head and watched sparks bounce off the stone floor, wondering if she was being toasted before being eaten.

The dragon roared so loudly that the ground shook and Helen was deafened. But when her ears cleared, she could hear a voice. “Can you understand me,
soft-bodied
child?”

She still heard roaring, deep and rumbling, but she also heard clear words behind the roar. It was like hearing an extra note in the octave or seeing a new colour in the rainbow.

Helen nodded and looked up, to see the dragon move her lips and grunt gently. Again Helen understood, as the dragon said, “Good. The delay and imprecision of translators annoys me. This is a temporary ability, for my convenience, not a permanent gift. Your ears will 
be deaf to fabled beasts again once you leave my hall.

“But I am intrigued by your response to my riddle. Could you already hear me? Did you understand my question?”

Helen shook her head.

“Interesting. You answered perfectly. I asked the hardest riddle of all: who you truly are. You answered well. You know who and what you are, and you are clear about your purpose here. Such self-knowledge is rare. I hope for the same clarity when you speak to me. You may begin.”

Helen spoke in a voice which sounded pathetically small after that huge dragon roar. “I’ve answered three riddles, Great Dragon, so I believe I have a right to three questions in return.”

The dragon nodded. “But only three, child. I shall be counting.” She tapped her spear-length claws three times on the floor.

“First I want to ask why dragons have prevented us collecting the tokens which could save the life of our friend the centaur.”

The dragon tapped once. “That is one. Now ask the other two.”

“I’d rather hear the first answer before I frame the other questions, Great Dragon.” Helen bowed her head politely.

“The wisdom of a bard,” snorted the dragon. “I shall answer your first question. Two of my older warriors and a few of my young pupils have indeed prevented you getting the tokens, with sentry duty, ruses, nets and flames, because those tokens are being 
sought for a darker purpose than saving your friend.

“The Master of the Maze is using you. He needs your naïvety, your innocence and your love for your friend, because the tokens will not reveal themselves to those with evil intent. But once your good intentions have freed the tokens, he will take them from your soft weak hands and use them to build his own strength.

“So we cannot let you have them. I have no enmity towards this son of the centaurs. I do not particularly wish to see him die, but I cannot allow you to have the tokens which would save him.”

Helen bit her lip as she tried to think of a way to argue against that rock-solid refusal.

“I see you doubt me, child,” said the dragon. “But this is how evil works, turning goodness to its own ends.”

Helen needed to find out more, but she wanted to save her second and third questions. She spoke carefully, not raising the tone of her voice at the end of the sentence, so she wasn’t asking a question. “The Master wants the tokens to heal his blind eye.”

“He wants his eye healed,” agreed the dragon, “but he has also been promised that if he uses a healing token at the equinox, the sight in that eye will become greater than ever.”

Helen didn’t ask. She just waited patiently.

The dragon smiled, which was not reassuring, because her mouth was filled with long cracked teeth. “Wise and patient child! The healing would give him the power to see not just light and dark, but to see the 
weakness in everyone. Then he could target hidden weaknesses, secret weaknesses, weaknesses not yet known to those who believe themselves strong.

“We cannot risk that. I have watched many conflicts on this land and I do not usually interfere. I let the soft-bodied short-lived beasts fight it out, because the results of your wars are not important to those of us who take the long view. But this creature from the underground maze has a darkness and ambition that is unusual even in his kind. With this ability to see weakness, he would become too powerful. He might even threaten those of us who are usually above all conflict. I do not take sides unless I need to, but I must prevent this healing.”

Helen said slowly, “The Master I’ve met is strong, but he doesn’t have magic. He couldn’t use the tokens to heal himself.”

“He does not need to heal himself. He has the Three to do it for him.”

“But the Three are going to heal Yann! How…” Helen stopped herself before that became a question.

The dragon laughed. “The Three do not usually take sides either. They enjoy injuries, suffering and blood. That’s why they are healers, to spend time at the bedsides of those in pain. They are especially keen to heal warriors and monsters, those who inflict more wounds for them to heal. The Master is using you to get the token for himself, but the Three are using all of you. They will heal the Master, hoping he will cause more chaos. It is interesting that they are also keen to heal your friend. Perhaps you should 
question whether the world is a better place with him, or without him.”

Helen stood up. “The world is definitely a better place with Yann.”

“But it is a much better place without the Master seeing all our weaknesses.”

“So you would sacrifice Yann to stop the Master.” Again, a statement, not a question.

“Yes. The horse-boy means little to me or my people. He means little to the world. The Master is a real danger. It is necessary to sacrifice one to stop the other.”

Helen swallowed her anger. Arguing with this dragon wouldn’t help Yann; she had to offer solutions. “If you don’t want the Master to see everyone’s weaknesses, yours included, then let us heal Yann. Because Yann could stop him.”

The dragon snorted. “The child centaur could stop the Master?”

“Yes. That’s why the Master injured him. He’s afraid of Yann’s strength, his bravery, his skills. The Master could have injured any one of us, and the rest of us would have searched for the tokens he wants, to heal our friend.”

The dragon nodded. “That is your weakness. I don’t need magical vision to see that. Your weakness is that you can’t bear to see your friends hurt.”

“That’s not a weakness,” said Helen. “That’s a strength.”

She kept building her case for saving Yann. “Even though Yann would have been the best one to lead the quests, the Master didn’t injure me or Catesby 
or Lavender or Rona. He injured Yann, because he’s afraid Yann could defeat him. He’s trying to get rid of a serious opponent and get his healing at the same time. It makes sense, doesn’t…” She paused before that became a question.

“So if we heal Yann, he can stop the Master, which will end the problem permanently, unlike your plan. There must be other healing tokens in other places, and other good people the Master can force to collect them. It’s not enough to deny him this last Scottish token. We should stop him completely. Send him back to his maze.”

“Go on,” said the dragon.

“So my second question is this: will you please ask your dragons to stop hindering us in our search for the tokens?”

The Great Dragon clicked her claws once more, and shook her head. “If I call off Jewel, Crag and the others, then the Master will seize the token from you, the moment you have it. That’s the flaw in your argument. The Master won’t permit you to heal your friend if he is afraid of him. If you collect a token, you are helping the minotaur, not the centaur.”

“Not necessarily,” said Helen. “Yann is our strength and our bravery, but my other friends have skills and experience too. Lee is his king’s champion.” The dragon huffed a noise which even Helen’s new hearing didn’t understand, so she kept talking. “Lavender has great wisdom, Sylvie already leads a pack, Tangaroa is the best rhyme gatherer among the blue men of the Minch, Rona is a true Storm Singer and Catesby is the 
one who blinded the Master a year ago.

“All my friends have talents. That’s why the Master chose us to get these tokens for him. Now that we know what he wants, we won’t be easily fooled or overcome. But we can’t fight him
and
your dragons. I’m not asking you to help us. I’m just asking you not to hinder us. And if you leave us alone, I promise the Master won’t get the token from us.”

The Great Dragon stared at her. “You genuinely believe you can better the Master?”

Helen said confidently, “We’ve done it before.”

“But you don’t understand what he is capable of. You are too young and naïve to understand the depths of darkness in the world.”

“I’d rather be young and naïve, than too old and cynical to remember why good should stand against evil.”

The dragon roared so loud that echoes crashed back down from the domed ceiling hundreds of metres above. “You dare speak to me like that?”

Helen looked steadily into the fiery red eyes.

“You do dare! Perhaps that’s a good sign. If you can speak to me like that, perhaps you can challenge the Master.”

The Great Dragon stretched, her massive scales rattling like a rockfall. Then she nodded. “I want a guarantee from you. If I ask my dragons not to hinder you, I want your personal guarantee that you will destroy the final token rather than let the Master take it. You must not let him have it, even if that means denying it to your friend. 

“As with any guarantee, there must be a penalty. A penalty that you must pay if the Master does gain the token, gain his healing and gain his power. Because of an arrangement I’ve made with your over-confident faery friend, it is not
your
life that will be forfeit. It is the life of one of your friends. The flower fairy, the selkie, the wolf, the blue loon or the phoenix. If you let the Master enhance his sight, I will eat one of those fabled beasts for breakfast tomorrow. Do you understand?”

Helen didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer.

“Are you prepared to risk their lives on the bet that your centaur is worth saving? On your faith that you have a team which can outwit the Master?”

Helen knew that every one of her friends would risk their life for Yann in the heat of a fight. But could she make a cold-blooded promise of deliberate sacrifice on their behalf?

If she left without persuading the Great Dragon to call off her pupils, Yann would die. She couldn’t do that to him, and she didn’t think her friends would want her to.

So Helen nodded.

Then, her mind on whether she should tell her friends exactly what she had just agreed, or not quite lie by not quite telling them everything, she said, “May I ask my final question now?”

Helen suddenly realised she’d asked a third question. She hoped the dragon hadn’t noticed, then saw the long claw click down.

“Yes. You may. And you just have!” The dragon 
laughed. “You may ask me another question, but I do not have to answer it, because I have already answered three questions. Foolish child, letting your emotions overcome your caution.”

Helen said quickly, “I’ll answer another riddle to get another question.”

“No, there are only ever three riddles. But do tell me, just out of interest, what else you wanted to ask me. I will listen, but I probably won’t answer. Not unless I feel the answer will help, when I take the long view.” The Great Dragon smiled.

Helen tried to be polite, though she was angry with herself and with this obstructive, self-satisfied creature. “With your long knowledge of this land, Great Dragon, I wondered if you know where we can find the footprint of a king?”

“What a shame, child. I do know where that footprint is, but I have no obligation to tell you. So, you can try to save your friend and we will not hinder you. But you have only this one afternoon to find the footprint, so I’m confident that the world is safe from the minotaur and that you will have to get used to the loss of your friend. Goodbye.”

Helen hesitated. The dragon lifted one massive foot, pointed to the exit, then roared.

Helen couldn’t hear any words in the rattling roar. She could no longer understand the dragon’s speech. Their conversation was over.

She bowed and walked towards the arch where she had last seen her friends.

She knew the clever red eyes of the Great Dragon 
were watching her, so she walked with her back straight and her steps steady.

She was leaving with what she’d come for: the dragons wouldn’t interfere with the final quest. But she hadn’t got the information she needed: she had no idea where to get the final healing token. And she’d promised the life of one of her friends to the Great Dragon if the Master won the token.

After what felt like a very long walk, she stepped into a smaller hall with blurred daylight coming through arches at the other end.

Her friends were there, but so were Jewel and two other young dragons. The white dragon and the green dragons were prodding Sapphire’s bandage. Helen didn’t have to hear their words to know they were being rude about her short tail.

“What happened?” Lavender asked.

Rona said, “What happened is that Helen’s still alive. She can tell us everything else when we’re safely away. Sapphire, don’t listen to them. They don’t know whether tails grow back, they’re just tormenting you. Let’s get out of here. Up on Sapphire, everyone, then blindfold the person in front of you.”

Helen clambered up behind Sylvie. As she tied a blue scarf round the wolf-girl’s face, she heard Lee behind her. “Is a red scarf alright for you, Helen? Your cheeks are so pale after your chat with the dragon, I’m not sure bright colours will suit you.”

“Don’t be daft,” she answered. “Any colour will do.”

As the faery wrapped the cool silk round her face 
and pulled it tight, Helen whispered, “Lee, what did you say to the Great Dragon?”

“I told her you were under my protection. I said you were my bard and therefore valuable to me, so if she harmed your fingers or your ears or your ability to play music for my people, then I would hunt her down with all the pent-up power of the faery army.”