The Chimera's Curse Page 4

  Connie put her cup down abruptly. “But I thought you didn’t want to get too near it?”

  Anneena shrugged. “No good going on this old news. We’ve got to find out more about it ourselves. Perhaps even get a photo.” She shot a hopeful look at Jane. “I don’t want to pet it or anything—just to see it.”

  Connie was alarmed. This was all getting out of control. She couldn’t understand why her friend had got so wrapped up in this mystery. “Why, Anneena? There’ve been stories about a beast on the moor for years, and you’ve never worried about it before.”

  “But we almost saw it, Connie!” said Anneena as if she was astounded that her friend didn’t share her enthusiasm.

  This was awful. Anneena had no idea what she was getting herself into.

  “You know I don’t like it, but if you’re set on keeping watch for the creature, promise you’ll take me with you,” said Connie firmly.

  Anneena gave an offended laugh. The bracelets on her arms jangled as she stretched them above her head. “That’s a strange offer. First you say you don’t want to go, then you say you’ve got to come along. But don’t put yourself out. I’m sure I could get others to help. Your brother wanted to.”

  That settled it. Connie knew she definitely had to be at hand if Simon was going near that creature again. “I’ve got to be there. You don’t understand, Anneena.”

  “And you do?” her friend asked, irritated now.

  “Yes.”

  “In that case, why don’t you share your special knowledge with the rest of us?” Anneena gathered up her things and thrust them in her bag. She flicked her long black hair off her shoulder in an angry gesture.

  “Anneena.” Jane tugged at her friend’s jacket, determined to prevent the fight from escalating. “You know Connie’s good with animals. You shouldn’t turn down her help just because you’re feeling a bit miffed.”

  Anneena’s annoyance dispersed as quickly as it had arisen. She put her bag down. “Oh, you’re right as usual. Sorry, Connie. Of course, you have to be there. It’s just that this beast thing is really getting to me. I have this weird feeling that we are fated to meet.”

  Connie said nothing, hoping Anneena’s instinct was for once way off target.

  “Anneena’s crazy! We should keep as far as we can from that creature!” exclaimed Col.

  Connie had just filled him in on her morning with Anneena and Jane in Chartmouth. They were walking through the Mastersons’ yard on their way to their training sessions: Col to fly with Skylark and Connie to meet her mentor, Gard the rock dwarf. The yard was buzzing with activity. Over by the barn, Dr. Brock was talking intently to the two dragon companion twins. All were dressed in their leather flying jackets, planning an evening expedition.

  “Argand wants to see you, Connie,” Dr. Brock called. His white hair, still ginger at the temples, shone in the late-afternoon sunlight.

  “Tell her I’ll try to come out after my class,” called back Connie. “I’ll meet her in the usual place.”

  “Don’t keep her out late!” warned Dr. Brock. “Castanea was furious last time you two were out alone. She said that it was well past midnight before Argand came home.”

  “You know Argand,” said Connie, pausing beside him for a moment. “I wanted to go home much earlier, but she insisted we stay out for the moonrise. She said she’d come and watch it on the beach in front of my house if I refused to remain on the moor with her.”

  “Ah.”

  “I thought that the family next door were probably not ready to see a dragon outside their front garden so I stayed.”

  Dr. Brock gave her a smile of understanding. Tom and Greg, the dragon twins, laughed sympathetically.

  Tom, who was the companion to one of Argand’s siblings, commiserated. “Castanea can be a bit fierce. I still bear the scars.”

  “Always keep out of range of her tail, that’s my motto,” added Greg.

  “I’ll try to remember that.” Connie gave them a rueful grin.

  A crowd of young people from Sea Snakes were just getting into a mini-bus for the trip down to a quiet cove they used for their training. Jessica and Arran greeted Col warmly, any bad feelings from Saturday night clearly forgotten. Then they both hugged Connie. The others Connie knew less well—a mermaid companion, a companion to the Nereids, as well as a stern-looking boy who was companion to Charybdis, the whirlpool sea monster. Though the Sea Snakes knew Connie only slightly, they all called out greetings to her, eager to catch the attention of the famous universal if only for a moment.

  “We’d better get a move on or we’ll be late,” said Col, picking up the pace, annoyed that he was being ignored again, though he knew he should be used to it by now. “So what do you think’s out there?”

  Connie shrugged. “I’m not sure. I can feel it’s very wild—really dangerous.”

  “Yeah, I could’ve told you that.”

  “And it’s not used to humans, like one of our companion species would be. The problem is, I can’t get a fix on its nature: one moment, it seems very cat-like, then it slithers out of focus like a snake sliding under cover.” She paused, forehead wrinkled in a frown as she tried to sort out her confusion. It was no good: what she sensed would not settle into anything definite.

  “If you don’t know what it is, I’m not sure anyone would,” Col said loyally.

  She shook her head. “I hardly know anything, Col. There’s so much to learn about being a universal. But Anneena’s right about one thing: it’s in that plantation, deep inside. I was thinking that maybe I could persuade Anneena to set out watch as far from it as possible. That way we probably won’t see anything and, knowing her, she’ll soon get bored. The only problem is Simon.”

  “Simon? Why’s he a problem?” asked Col, vaulting over a fence. Connie followed more slowly, jumping down on the other side.

  “Well, if he can sense it, too, he’ll probably lead Anneena right to it.”

  Col thought for a moment. “Leave Simon to me. I’ll see if I can’t do something.”

  “Thanks,” Connie said gratefully. “That’d be a great help. If I say anything, he’ll just do the opposite to annoy me.”

  A strange warmth uncurled in the pit of Col’s stomach. It felt good to have Connie’s gratitude, to have her smiling at him as if he was the most wonderful friend she had. He only wished he deserved her admiration.

  “Don’t worry, Connie. You can count on me,” he said, swearing to himself that he’d prove it.

  Connie’s usual place for meeting Argand was up on the Devil’s Tooth, an isolated crop of granite sticking out of the moor and the first tor reached after leaving the Mastersons’ land. She could still see the roofs of the farm buildings below her as she made her way up the valley, though the farmhouse itself was swallowed up in the long shadows cast by the setting sun. Down in the darkness, she knew that the stocky black figure of Gard was watching her go, following her progress through her footfalls as she climbed up out of the mild valley onto the dry expanse of the moor. She waved to him.

  I’ll be fine from here, she told him, sending her thoughts diving down into the earth and along the granite rock bed under their feet. I can see the Devil’s Tooth ahead of me now. You don’t need to wait for me. Argand will be along any moment.

  Be careful, cautioned Gard. Call if you have need.

  I will.

  Reaching the brow of the first rise, she paused to take a breath. A cattle-grid marked the beginning of the moor. A narrow ribbon of gray tarmac wound over the next hill, curling around the base of the Devil’s Tooth. The tor jutted out of the top of a hillock like a fang gnawing at the sky. It was an eerie but beautiful sight, colors softened this evening by the wash of pinks and blues on the horizon. Clouds were fringed with intense shafts of flame as the sun set, dazzling Connie for a moment as she looked into the heart of the inferno. She stood back to let a Land Rover pass, its wheels juddering over the grid. The sheepdog in the back barked excitedly at her, scratching at the r
ear window in greeting. She laughed and waved, but the car was soon out of view, heading back down into the valley for the evening. Overhead, three suspiciously dragon-shaped silhouettes flew high, heading out to sea. Dr. Brock and the twins were airborne, at last.

  Balancing her way across the grid, Connie left the road to take a more direct route up to the tor.

  It wasn’t far; she usually managed the climb in ten minutes or so, though she was slowed down tonight by the lingering heat of the day. Her brow was soon beaded with sweat, and she wished she had thought to bring a bottle of water. Trying to distract herself from her thirst, she opened her mind to her surroundings. Having just come from a long session with Gard, she was alert to the nature of the earth she was treading on, probing down into the layers, passing through the thin covering of soil and grass to the bones of the moor below. A hot wind ruffled the parched grass at her feet. The normally emerald green moor was bleached in the sun, balding where the dry grass had been worn away by the passage of hooves and feet. She could feel the vegetation crying out for relief, for the gift of a shower of refreshing rain, but the skies remained empty. She would have been grateful for a spot or two of rain herself at that moment, she thought, running her tongue over her lips.

  It was then that she felt it. There was a creature near her. The creature. Its presence flickered into her mind then darted out of perception, eluding her attempts to pin it down. Connie looked around, but could see nothing. The wind continued to rustle the grass. The brown bracken swayed slightly. Had that been the breeze or was something lurking in the cover of the waist-high stems?

  Connie hesitated. Should she call Gard? To say what? That she was being stalked, for that was what it was doing, wasn’t it? But surely she didn’t need to be afraid? If it thought it could trap a universal like this, then it had another think coming. She had an appointment with a dragon; no beast would dare come near her once Argand arrived.

  Picking up her pace, Connie clambered up the last few feet to the base of the Devil’s Tooth. She quickly examined the stones, seeking out hand- and footholds to take her to the top. If she got up there, no one could reach her without giving plenty of warning of their approach. Perhaps this was her chance to see the creature and find out what it was? Suffering a few scrapes along the way, she hauled herself up. Once on the crest, she was rewarded by a cooler gust of wind fanning her face.

  From up here, she had the sensation she was on a gray ship looking down on the twilit sea. She did not like heights, and felt as if she was swaying on real waves, her head beginning to spin. She sat down to anchor herself against the stone. The granite still throbbed with the heat of the day, its cracks and crevices groaning as they contracted after hours of baking in the sun. Feeling more secure now that she was seated, Connie gazed around for any sign of the creature. Nothing. Had she imagined it? After all, she had spent much of the day thinking about it; she had probably let her imagination run away with her.

  Just then a flicker of flame between her and the road below caught her eye. Straining to make out what was happening in the gloom, she saw fire consuming a patch of bracken. Like a swarm of locusts, the sparks spread with voracious rapidity, cutting off her retreat back to the farm.

  A dark shadow slunk away from the blaze, slipping swiftly out of sight.

  Connie grew suddenly conscious of her own exposure up on the Devil’s Tooth. A moorland fire was an unpredictable thing; there was no doubt she was in danger if she stayed where she was for long. Fortunately, the wind was blowing from behind her, driving the flames away from the tor. She had time.

  “Argand!” Connie called, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Help!” Surely the golden dragon was nearby? The sun had almost set. She should be here at any moment.

  There was a shower of sparks to her left some distance from the original blaze. At first, Connie thought that it was Argand sailing out of the sky to her aid, but then she realized a new fire had started. The grass surrendered to the flames without a struggle, expiring in a crackle of orange. Once again, Connie thought she glimpsed the prowling form of a creature, long tail whipping behind it as it leapt out of the way. Was it trying to flee the fire? Or was it starting the blaze? The acrid scent of smoke now came to her on the wind. Spinning around she saw that behind her a patch of flame had sprung into life, this one creeping toward her, driven by the wind. Desperate now, Connie looked out to her right into the only expanse of darkness and, sure enough, the rash of fire was ignited there, too. The creature was trying to trap her in a ring of flame.

  Argand! called out Connie. Trust her to be late when she was most needed! Gard!

  Yes, Universal? The presence of the rock dwarf was with her in an instant.

  I’m trapped. Fire on the moors! Get help!

  We’re coming. Stay where you are. I can sense another creature near you. But Gard was over a mile away. He could do little on his own and would need time to find help from the other creatures. All the dragons and pegasi were off flying. Who could reach her in time?

  The fire was gaining a grip on the earth, a jewel-bright tide crawling over the surface like lava. Billows of choking smoke dotted with orange sparks whirled up into the air. Then came a subtle change in the wind, a shimmer on the horizon, and Connie sensed the approach of the fire imps. From all directions, their wispy bodies plummeted out of the sky like shadows of seabirds diving on a school of fiery herring. Once in contact with the heat, the imps ignited, their bodies bursting into joyous flame. Connie saw them writhing with delight, long hair flaring up to the heavens. They shook their pointed fingers defiantly at the sky, daring it to douse their celebration, but the sky was empty, having nothing to shed to quell this festival of fire. The hill on which the Devil’s Tooth stood was now crowned with thorns of flame.

  Hurry up! Please! Connie called out to Gard, her fear mounting. She could feel the heat on her cheeks, and her eyes watered as the smoke stung them. A new presence, a dark tide, seemed to be rising in her mind. She began to feel dizzy and sick, fighting unconsciousness. Resting her head on her knees, she gasped and coughed.

  A touch on the back of her neck made her sit up abruptly. Opening her eyes, she found herself looking into the fiery irises of the golden dragon. Argand crooned anxiously, her forked tongue flickering over her companion’s cheek.

  “Get me out of here,” croaked Connie. She threw her arms around the dragon’s neck.

  But never carry before, said Argand doubtfully. What if drop you?

  No choice. Try. Please. Connie could feel her lungs bursting for clean, fume-free air.

  With a leap into space, the dragonet took off from the rock—and immediately plunged down into the flames, unable to support the weight of her companion.

  Hauberk! the dragon screamed to Connie.

  Just in time, Connie wrapped herself in her companion’s unique protection against fire, donning it like a suit of golden mail against the shafts of flame. They thumped to the ground but Connie managed to cling on, gripping the fringe of scales that ran down Argand’s neck. Blazing tongues now licked harmlessly around Connie’s ankles. The fire imps shrieked in delight, whizzing around the universal and her dragon, releasing showers of sparks.

  Let’s get out of here, said Connie. Hop if you have to.

  With an ungainly shuffle, Argand began to jump forward, using her wings to help her. The wings acted like bellows, sending gusts of fire heavenward with each downdraft. Connie was thankful that she had learned last year to use the hauberk; without it, she would have been a blackened crisp by now. With a final bound, Argand clattered down, her wings sagging like a collapsing golden tent. She landed on the tarmac road, a firebreak stopping the flames at its very edge. Connie looked back up the hill and saw that the conflagration had reached the base of the Devil’s Tooth. She had escaped just in time.

  What is that, Companion? Argand asked, pointing with one claw to the fiercest part of the blaze. Connie turned to look and saw with horror that there was a small figure—but not a
fire imp—dancing hand in hand with those creatures.

  Oh no, it’s Liam! You’ve got to save him! She slid off Argand’s back and pushed the dragon back toward the fire. He doesn’t know about the imps, yet. He did not know how they could turn on you in an instant like a blaze fanned by a sudden change of wind, withdrawing their protection, the most fickle companion species.

  But how save him? asked Argand, puzzled.

  He’s small. You might not be able to fly with me, but I’m sure you’d be able to carry him for a short flight back. Please! Connie’s gaze was fixed desperately on the cavorting boy, willing the imps to keep their good humor a few more moments.

  I try, agreed Argand.

  The dragon took off and climbed into the sky to gain height for her rescue attempt. Every second that passed was agony for Connie, sure that the imps would suddenly turn on their young companion. Judging her opportunity, the dragon swooped down, her claws held out in front, and scooped the unsuspecting Liam out of the fire. The imps screamed in fury, hissing and spitting at the dragon. Liam yelped: one of the sparks had scorched his bare legs.

  Argand wheeled over Connie, spiraling down to Earth, and dropped Liam at her feet. She landed a few paces away and began to preen her wings; the arch of her neck and the sly pleasure of the smile on her long narrow snout radiated pride at her achievement. Liam stared in astonishment at the dragon and then looked up at Connie.

  “Why did it do that?” he asked in a voice on the verge of tears. “I was having fun!” He seemed more surprised by the abrupt end to his party than the fact that he had just been grabbed by a dragon.

  “It wouldn’t have lasted,” said Connie, putting her arm around him. “How’s your leg? Can you walk?” Liam nodded. “Good. We’ve got to get out of here. Let’s go.”

  The smoke was billowing across the road. The fire imps were shooting sparks in their direction. The creatures would punish them if only they could reach them.