The dragon bent his head. “As soon as the moon has risen in the sky. Admittedly I haven’t had much sleep recently, but I’ll make up for that later. Now I just want to start the journey. How about you, Sorrel?”

“No problem,” muttered Sorrel, scratching her stomach. “Or rather, yes, there is just a tiny little problem.”

Firedrake looked at her in surprise. “What is it?”

Burr-Burr-Chan cleared his throat. “I’d like to come, too,” he said. “I could teach my two-armed relations how to grow cultivated mushrooms.”

Firedrake nodded. “Then I’ll have two dragon riders again,” he said. “All the better.” He turned to the she-dragon, who was standing beside him licking her scales. “But what about you, Maia?” asked Firedrake. “Can you find your way back to the Rim of Heaven on your own?”

“Of course.” Maia raised her head and looked at him. “But I’m not going back. Shimmertail is there to look after the others. I’m coming with you.”

Firedrake’s heart leaped with joy. All of a sudden, he hardly minded what might be waiting for him on his return.

“After all, suppose they don’t believe you at home in the north?” asked Maia as if she had read his thoughts. “If I’m there, too, I’ll be living proof that you found us and the Rim of Heaven. And together I’m sure we can persuade them to come back with us.”

“Two dragons!” Barnabas Greenbloom frowned anxiously. “That’s not without its dangers, my dear Firedrake. It will be harder for two dragons to find places to hide during the day.”

“Don’t worry about that!” Lola Graytail scampered in among all the huge feet and claws. “You see before you the best pilot they could possibly have! And as it happens, I’m going the same way. The dragons will have to adjust to my speed now and then, that’s all.”

“Are you going back already?” asked Twigleg in surprise, looking down from Ben’s arm. “I mean, have you finished your surveying?”

“Surveying? Huh!” The rat waved a dismissive paw. “You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to invent things. I’m going to fake the map of these parts so cleverly that no one will ever find the Rim of Heaven.” She smoothed her ears with satisfaction. “What do you say to that?”

Firedrake bent down his neck to the little rat and gently nuzzled her fat hindquarters. “We say thank you. And we’d be even more grateful to you and your uncle if such a map were widely distributed.”

“Oh, it will be,” replied Lola. “You bet it will. Uncle Gilbert has a very select circle of customers and a large extended family.”

“That’s wonderful!” With a sigh, Firedrake straightened up again. “Then may I invite the smallest monks to go for a farewell flight on my back? Will you come, too, Maia?”

“Of course,” replied the she-dragon. “I’ll even carry some of the older ones, if they like.”

And so it was that the farmers down by the river, walking through their fields in the dusk, saw two dragons circling above the mountains. On their spiny crested backs, laughing like little children, sat the monks of the monastery, even the very oldest of them.

57. Good News

Two months later, the Greenblooms were having breakfast. Ben had just helped himself to a second roll when Barnabas suddenly spoke up from behind his newspaper.

“Good heavens!”

“Really?” said Twigleg who, as usual, was sitting on the table next to Ben’s plate. “You mean the forecast promises nice weather?”

“No, no!” cried the professor, lowering his newspaper. “I didn’t mean the weather, my dear Twigleg. There’s a news story here that ought to interest you all.”

“About Pegasus, perhaps?” asked his wife, stirring milk into her coffee.

Barnabas Greenbloom shook his head.

“Some fairies have got another bulldozer stuck in the mud?” suggested Guinevere, licking marmalade off her fingers.

“Wrong again,” replied her father.

“Oh, come on, Barnabas, don’t keep us in suspense,” said Vita. “What is it?”

Ben looked intently at the professor. “Something about the dragons?”

“Ex-act-ly!” cried Barnabas Greenbloom. “The boy’s hit the nail on the head again. Listen to this!” And he read aloud:

“A strange phenomenon was observed two days ago in the night sky over a Scottish valley. A large flock of gigantic birds, or some have described them as creatures resembling giant bats, rose into the sky and flew south in the light of the full moon. Unfortunately all trace of them was lost over the open sea, but scientists are still trying to identify the species of bird concerned.”

Guinevere and Ben looked at each other.

“That was them,” murmured Ben. “Firedrake really did manage to convince the others.”

He looked out the window, where there was nothing to be seen but empty gray sky.

“You miss them, don’t you?” Vita leaned over the table and took his hand.

Ben nodded.

“Well,” said Barnabas Greenbloom, pouring himself more coffee, “the school vacation begins in eight weeks’ time, and we’ll be setting out in search of Pegasus. I’ve found an interesting clue near the ancient city of Persepolis. And it’s not too far from there to the village where Zubeida lives. I assume that if all goes well, Firedrake and the other dragons will reach the Himalayas within a month. Why don’t we ask our good friend Lola Graytail to carry news to the Rim of Heaven, asking if he can meet us at Zubeida’s in two months’ time?” The professor turned to Ben. “You know his traveling speed — do you think he’ll do it?”

“Perhaps.” In his excitement, Ben had almost spilled his cocoa. “Yes, probably! Hear that, Twigleg? We may be seeing Firedrake again in a couple of months.”

“That’s good,” replied the homunculus, sipping tea from his thimble mug. “But I’m afraid it means seeing Sorrel, too, and she’ll start needling me horribly again.”

“Oh, we’ll tell her not to,” said Guinevere, giving him a fragment of biscuit. “The moment she starts winding you up, we’ll take away the mushrooms we’ve been collecting for her.”

Ben went to the window and looked up at the sky.

Two months. He might be riding on Firedrake’s back again in just two months.

He sighed.

Two months can be a long time. A very long time.

“Come on,” said Guinevere, leaning against him on the window seat. “Let’s go out and look for fairy tracks, okay?”

Ben tore himself away from the sight of the empty sky and nodded. “I saw some down by the pond yesterday,” he said.

“Good.” Guinevere led the way to the garden gate. “We’ll try there first, then.”

“Dress warm,” Vita Greenbloom called after them. “There’s a smell of autumn in the air this morning.”

“Wait a minute, I’m coming, too!” cried Twigleg, scrambling hastily down the table leg.

“But this time, you must translate everything they say to us,” said Guinevere, putting his knitted jacket on him. “Promise?”