Authors: Rebecca Lisle
He looked up the hill towards the blue of the mountain tops and down into the valley over the pine forests and boulders below. There wasn’t anything to see or hear and yet still he felt uneasy.
He knelt down and sniffed. Ralick’s wolfy scent hung around, along with the strangely empty smell of Shane Annigan. How can someone smell so strongly of nothing? wondered Questrid. The scent of cold water. Thin air.
He examined the marks in the snow. He was on the
right path. Shane barely touched the ground as he moved, but when he did, his long feet skidded through the top layer, leaving long soft marks. His cloak left a wide velvety trail.
Questrid picked up a handful of the snow and held it to his nose. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply again. He concentrated every cell of his body on the odour.
Questrid had arrived at Spindle House when he was about six years old. It was Cedar who had noticed how Questrid stuck his nose into the air and sniffed, like a dog. The little boy searched out scents and studied animal marks left in the snow. They were clues to him.
‘What bird made those prints?’ Cedar asked the boy one day.
‘Mistletoe Thrush,’ said Questrid straight away.
‘And those marks?’
‘Black Squirrel.’
The boy did not speak for weeks after his arrival. He gave no clue to his name or whereabouts. Eventually the Beech family named him Questrid, the hunter. They found out later that his real name was Linden, but nobody ever called him that now – except sometimes his mother.
Questrid stood up and looked around slowly. Someone was watching him. Someone had just slipped out of sight the moment he’d turned round. He was certain of it.
He set off again, talking aloud to cheer himself along.
‘I hope you’re all right, Ralick. I know you’re all right. Shane wouldn’t hurt you, would he? He kept
saying you were an interesting wolf cub, intelligent, special … Well, you are, Ralick. Copper loves you. I’m going to find you and bring you back.’
His hair felt hot and itchy under his hat, his scarf prickled his chin.
‘Don’t worry, Copper. I’m coming, Copper. You can trust me.’
Questrid came to the tunnel. He knew exactly what it was, a short cut to the valley on the other side. He knew it was tricky. He knew he might get through if he had the stamina and he might not get back. But that didn’t matter if it meant he saved Ralick.
The scent of Ralick grew stronger.
Questrid came closer to the tunnel. He saw something lying in the snow beside the entrance. A rock? A sack? Or was it … His heart beat quickened. He ran.
Questrid scrambled up the last bit of the hill and flung himself onto the snow beside the cub.
‘Ralick!’
Ralick was completely encased in a ball of gossamer thread – the same stuff Questrid had found clogging his door handle. The fine strands were wound round the cub’s muzzle, his ears, his legs. The only things free to move were his eyes.
‘Oh, Ralick!’ Anger bubbled up inside him and he let out a yell of fury. ‘Who did this? Shane Annigan? Was it?’ He stopped. He sniffed the air like a dog. He could smell Shane Annigan. He was near. Very near …
‘Questrid, my young friend, is it you?’
Shane Annigan jumped lightly down from a ledge
above the tunnel. A spume of light snowdust ballooned round him.
‘Now, isn’t it the nicest surprise to be meeting you here! Have you come far?’ He dusted the snow from his arm.
‘You know where I’ve come from!’ cried Questrid. He leaped up and waved his fists at him. ‘What’ve you done to Ralick?’
‘Ah, my dear boy, it’s a long story and one that I shan’t trouble you with right now. I don’t have the time. I haven’t the inclination either.’ He flicked the snow from his cloak. He grinned.
‘You
will
! You must! I’m taking Ralick back right now and …’
‘Hush!’ Shane’s smile was overpowering. He was dazzling bright like a white fire. ‘Hush now.’
‘It’s a trick, I know it is!’ cried Questrid. He dived for Ralick.
‘Look at this!’ Shane commanded.
Questrid looked. He couldn’t stop himself.
Shane held up his hand. Concealed in his palm was a ball of silver cobweb thread. He stretched out a finger and pointed straight at Questrid. Avolley of shimmering iridescent lights, like white fireflies, shot from his finger.
Questrid was blinded. He didn’t see the strands of fine thread that followed the lights. They floated through the air and fell over his head like a sparkling cobweb. He only felt a numbing calm descend on him and within seconds he’d dropped onto the snow. He lay there, cocooned in the silky filaments.
‘There, there, my young friend,’ said Shane Annigan. He smiled his creamy smile. ‘You were after finding adventure. You found it!’
Shane quickly stuffed Ralick back into his sack and flung it over his shoulder. He grasped hold of Questrid and began to drag him into the tunnel. It took him only a matter of minutes to reach the other side. The dense air wasn’t a problem for an Air person.
On the other side, Shane Annigan dumped Questrid on the snow.
‘It’s dangerous sleeping out on the mountainside in this inclement weather, young man,’ he said. ‘You might
die
!’
He walked leisurely away down the mountain.
Questrid lay in the snow for hours. He got colder and colder. He was quite blue by the time Squitcher found him.
The ice pixie bundled Questrid onto his sledge and took him home. The ice houses were too cold for a human, so Squitcher laid Questrid at the back of Boldly Seer’s cave.
Dragons, and much around them, are always warm, if not hot.
‘Questrid!’ Copper ran to the alcove. ‘What’s happened to him? He’s covered in cobwebs!’
Squitcher and Copper knelt beside Questrid. ‘He’s not very jolly, is he? Snorting-groaning. Sleepy-mutterings. The same sort of magic is affecting Boldly Seer. Maybe Grampy is correctly-right. Maybe a Dragon Destroyer did come here.’
‘Do Dragon Destroyers harm boys?’ asked Copper. ‘Oh, yes, they harm everything,’ Squitcher assured her. ‘It’s their nature.’
Copper started to tug at the cobwebs. ‘What is this stuff?’ she said. ‘Looks like cobwebs, but feels like nylon.’
‘I tried too,’ said Squitcher. ‘But it’s too powerful-strong for pixicles. Even my sharply-knife’s not sharp enough.’
Copper sat back on her heels. ‘This stuff makes me think of knitting,’ she said. ‘Of a great ball of fine, shiny
thread.’ She grinned at Amy, who was standing apart, watching.
‘What are you thinking, Coppery Girl?’ asked Squitcher. He looked from Copper to Amy and back again. ‘Is it magic? Jolly knitting magic?’
Copper nodded. She pulled off her backpack and dug around inside it. At last she reached the small knitting needles she’d hidden there. She flourished them.
‘These are knitting needles. Remember I had one pair, Amy? Ruby gave me them. I kept them a secret from Mum. I can knit anything.’
Copper took up a free end of the fine thread and began winding it round her needles as if she were casting on stitches. The thread sprang into life as the needles touched it. It reared up like a wild, thin snake and wrapped itself round the metal knitting needles.
‘Whoah!’ cried Copper. The thread laced itself about, whipped and lashed through the air. Copper fought to keep it under control. ‘I’m knitting worms!’ she cried.
Copper’s wrists flicked and bent. Her fingers danced. The cobwebs slithered off, tangling themselves into perfect stitches on her needles.
‘Undoing Dragon Destroyer magic!’ cried Squitcher. He jumped up and down. ‘Bravo! Bravo!’
Amy was entranced. She watched Copper’s fingers flying backwards and forwards and the thread turn from strands into fabric.
‘I used to knit all the time.’ Copper didn’t look up. ‘I used to feel weird unless I could knit, but this isn’t quite like that … Doing this knitting makes me feel weird.’
Questrid began to wriggle. He pushed at the web. He was trying to speak. ‘Shayannigun,’ he said. ‘Itwash Shayannigun.’
‘
Shane Annigan! He
did this?’ said Copper.
She knitted the last strands from around his chin and mouth.
‘Yes!’ Questrid shouted. ‘He’s a liar and a cheat. He locked me in my room. He’s stolen Ralick—’
‘He’s stolen Ralick?’
‘Yes.’ Questrid sat up. ‘I don’t think Shane was ever lost in the storm. It was all a plot to get Ralick. I hate that man! Hey, how did you find me? It’s great to see you.’
‘Why would Shane want to steal Ralick?’ Copper said. ‘Why?’
‘Don’t know, but I
saw
him do it.’
‘Magic cobwebs. Magic knitting,’ cried Squitcher, hopping about. ‘Very darkly-dangerous.’
‘Questrid, this is Squitcher. He’s an ice pixie and he saved you.’
‘You were lying in the snow like a big caterpillar,’ said Squitcher. ‘So I brought you back here.’
‘Thank you, Squitcher. You saved my life.’
‘My enjoyable-pleasure. No more trouble than blowing a snowflake off a baby’s bottom,’ said Squitcher. ‘Now, Coppery One, you must take care with that stuff you’ve made. Magic reworked is very strongly-powerful.’
‘Can you knit
anything
?’ asked Amy.
‘Not really. Once I heard of someone who could knit gold!’ Copper shared a secret smile with Questrid.
Amy noticed their private look. It hurt like a knife wound. ‘Who could do that? Are they very rich?’ she said.
‘No, they’re not,’ said Copper. ‘They decided it was too dangerous and stopped.’
‘How could it be dangerous? If it was me, I’d never stop,’ said Amy. ‘If I could knit gold I’d do it all day and all night. Think how rich you could be!’ Her eyes shone. She picked up a handful of snow and squeezed it into a hard ball. ‘How could you have too much gold? You could buy TVs, clothes, houses …’
‘Yes,’ said Copper, ‘but who needs more than one house? How many pairs of new shoes do you need and—’
‘
Woo. Aaargh. Woo!
’
‘And if you could make gold,’ Amy said, ‘you’d just make it all the time, wouldn’t you? Every time you wanted something you could have it. Everyone would respect you. You’d be like a Queen …’
No one was listening to her. They were looking at the dragon. It had started wailing again.
‘Woo, woo!’
‘A dragon!’ said Questrid. ‘I’ve only just realised that’s what that big silvery thing is! Golly. What an odd noise it makes.’
‘That’s Boldly Seer,’ Copper told him. ‘Squitcher thinks a Dragon Destroyer has harmed it … Shane said he loved dragons, but now I’m wondering …’
‘He said lots of things!’ said Questrid. ‘Lies. I bet he is the Dragon Destroyer.’
Questrid went round and knelt down beside Boldly Seer. He stroked her head. ‘She’s beautiful. Is she gentle, Squitcher?’
‘Most gentle-calm and usually very jolly,’ said Squitcher sadly. ‘Can you knit her back again, Coppery One?’
The dragon lifted her head and tossed it from side to side. Smoke swirled around them and little sparks of hot ash fell sizzling into the snow.
Amy kept against the wall.
‘Isn’t she a bit of a hazard?’ asked Questrid. ‘I mean, she’s so hot and, well, you’re all so cold!’
Squitcher smiled. He laid his tiny white hand on the dragon’s nose.
‘Not a hazard, never. Oh dear, her nose is wet and cold. So not well.’ He shook his head. ‘What’s the matter, Boldly Seer? Speak to us. Tell us and we’ll help you. We cannot do without our dear-lovely dragon.’
‘So she doesn’t melt everything?’
‘No. She hotly-fires the giant blocks of ice, you know. She blazes it into smaller cubes, so we can lift it. When we’re building a new house, you should see her blow it all smooth-sheeny. Jolly brilliant. She takes us places too. We need her.’
Suddenly, the dragon began to shift. Everyone got out of the way. She flung herself over onto her back with her legs in the air. She whacked her head against the earth as if it were hurting. She let out a long, muffled, deep cry.
When she half-opened her mouth and roared, they caught sight of a flash of silver.
‘Cobwebs in her mouth!’ Questrid said. ‘Shane Annigan at work again!’
Squitcher gently lifted the dragon’s lips and peeled them back revealing the delicate rose-pink inner skin. There was silvery thread wrapped around her tongue and teeth. ‘Yes, yes,’ he said. ‘You are so right. Everywhere. Poor, dear, Boldly Seer.’
‘Let me see what I can do,’ said Copper. She took out her needles and began to try and knit it off, but the needles were too long. Even with her elbows pointing up to the ceiling, she could not knit it.
‘I just can’t get them in! It’s so frustrating,’ she said. ‘There isn’t room. If only I had a—’
‘Crochet hook!’
said Questrid. ‘I knew you’d be glad of it! I have one of yours, right here in my pocket.’
‘You don’t? Questrid, that’s amazing!’ said Copper.
Smarty pants! Amy thought. Why didn’t I bring something useful? Why can’t I help? Why do they keep grinning at each other, like they’ve got whole mountains of secrets? It’s not fair. It’s just not fair!
‘Crochet hooks are very useful – I unpicked a lock with one once, you know,’ said Copper. ‘From now on I shall never leave home without one.’