Jonah and the Last Great Dragon (4 page)

Jonah sprinted over to the edge of the field and hugged his aunt hard. ‘Don’t worry, OK? We’ll all be fine. I wish Erin could have come with us, though.’

Bryn and Rhodri hugged him too and then, with his heart beating fast, he turned back to the dragons. The soldiers were standing near the beasts they would ride. Jonah ran over to Ffyrnig and called out to the others, ‘Lower a wing, please, and let your rider mount.’

He was looking along the line to make sure that all the dragons were cooperating, when there was a sudden bellow from his left and soldiers shouting. He turned to see Sam sprawled flat on his face on the grass, while the wyvern, hissing threateningly, held him down with a scaly, clawed foot. Ffyrnig swung his great head round and growled at Mordiford.

‘What in the name of all treasure do you think you’re doing?’ he rumbled.

The wyvern’s head was poised above Sam’s neck, ready to strike. Small, fiery puffs of smoke emerged from his nostrils. Two of the troopers jumped down and ran to crouch nearby, poised to try to drag the captain away, but Jonah knew that if Mordiford decided to sink his teeth into Sam, the soldiers could do nothing to stop him. Jonah told himself to keep calm. His blood felt as if it was trembling in his body as he walked towards the wyvern, but he swallowed hard and forced himself to go right up to his head and stand facing him.

‘Mordiford,’ he said, as calmly as he could. ‘What’s
wrong? What did the captain do?’

Mordiford stopped looking menacingly at Sam to glower at Jonah. ‘I’ve found him out,’ he hissed. ‘I
thought
he looked familiar. And then you called him by his name in front of me. Daft little human! Erm – sorry, Master.’

He growled so that sparks flew out of his mouth and rained down on the captain, who lay still, hardly daring to breathe, under the tremendous talons. Ffyrnig groaned, and Jonah stared from the wyvern to the Great Dragon. Ffyrnig was shaking his head from side to side.

‘Mordiford,’ Jonah began, ‘Captain Hereford was born hundreds of years after you went into the cavern in Haugh Wood. He can’t be anyone you knew, honestly.’

Mordiford gazed at Jonah sardonically. ‘No, but he is a member of a
family
I knew. Aren’t you, Hereford?’ And he raked his claws viciously across Sam’s shoulders, ripping his coverall and causing a long, bleeding scratch. His claws caught in the torn fabric and as the wyvern pulled his foot free, Sam was tossed over on to his back. Mordiford hung his head low over Sam’s face, so that his scorching meaty breath made the captain wince. Sam squinted painfully up at him, eyes creased against the heat.

‘He thinks that you’re his enemy because your surname is Hereford,’ Jonah said.

Sam faintly shook his head. ‘I am descended from the Herefords of Mordiford, yes, but the stories are all about a man named Garson hurting him,’ he said quietly. ‘I have never heard that any of my ancestors did anything to him.’

Jonah told Mordiford what Sam had said and the other dragons began to mutter.

The green dragon sneered. ‘Of
course
he hasn’t heard of any of his relations hurting me! And he never had a miserable swine of an ancestor called Tursten of Hereford, did he? That blighter did everything he could to get rid of
me.’

‘Tursten of Hereford? Who was he?’

Mordiford groaned. ‘Tursten?
Tursten!
And you are a Dragoneer! Do you really not know who he was? Why, he was Maud’s father. My dear little Mistress Maud.’

Jonah began to understand. ‘And Tursten tried to stop her from keeping you?’

‘Yes.
And
he thought up all sorts of terrible ways to kill me, even when I was just a little dragonet.’ Mordiford looked immensely sorry for himself. ‘He said I was a foul monster! And I was so small, only the size of a cucumber at the time! He was a cruel man!’

All the soldiers had dismounted now and were standing perfectly still with their eyes locked on to the wyvern. They were tense and ready to leap into action if Mordiford attacked Sam again. Ffyrnig had drawn himself up to his full, towering height and had his eyes fixed on Mordiford and Sam. The situation felt dangerous. If there was a scuffle between the wyvern and the SAS, Jonah was anxious that some of the dragons would side with Mordiford. If they savaged the soldiers, Ffyrnig would attack his fellow dragons and there would be carnage. He could not let that happen.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Bryn put his arm tightly round Claire’s shoulders. Her eyes were wide with alarm. Jonah groaned.
Why did this have to happen with them here?
He tried to look calm and confident as he walked closer to the wyvern. Cautiously he reached up to stroke Mordiford’s side. The wyvern, head lowered over Sam, swung round suspiciously to inspect Jonah and tightened his grip on the captain. Jonah and Mordiford were eye to eye.

‘I’m sorry about Maud’s father,’ Jonah began, in as steady a voice as he could manage. ‘But look, it’s not
Captain Hereford’s fault that his ancestor tried to hurt you. None of us had ever heard of Tursten and – and times are different now, Mordiford. Men and dragons are on the same side! We need you. We can’t fight the Night Creatures unless you help us. And all these soldiers’ —he gestured at the troop—‘are really proud to have the chance to fly with you. Look, I’ll ask them.’ He swung round to face the troopers and said loudly, ‘You really do want to fly with the dragons, don’t you?’

‘Yes!’ The soldiers understood Jonah’s tactics immediately. A shout went up and the soldiers clapped and cheered. The wyvern blinked in surprise and a little look of pleasure wrinkled his eyes. Slowly he took his foot off Sam’s chest and the captain scrambled to his feet.

Mordiford looked him up and down. ‘He doesn’t look like Tursten,’ he muttered, finally. ‘I have to admit that.’ He turned to Jonah. ‘Have I hurt him?’

‘He wants to know if he’s done much damage,’ Jonah said to Sam.

‘No, he shook me up a bit, that’s all. It’s only a scratch. Just needs a bit of dressing.’

‘He’s fine,’ Jonah told Mordiford.

‘Well, tell him to get on my back then,’ the wyvern growled. ‘Do you want to get to London today or not?’

Jonah laughed and rubbed Mordiford’s shoulder. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Just give us a minute while Captain Hereford gets another coverall.’

Sam strode off to the barracks and Jonah turned to the expectant soldiers. ‘We’ll mount now, while we wait for the captain,’ he called and, grinning with pleasure, the soldiers ran towards their mounts.

Three hours later, the dragons were flying steadily in V-formation above the grey gleam of the River Thames, as it curved through the London suburbs. People in the streets far below them might have thought they were seeing a flock of strange-looking geese flying towards the city.

Mordiford was flying just behind Ffyrnig’s left shoulder with the blue-green Stinchcombe Drake, ridden by Isaac, on Ffyrnig’s other side. Sam pulled out his whistle and blew it to catch Jonah’s attention. He pointed at the streets below, miming how empty they looked. Jonah leaned forward to stare past Ffyrnig’s shoulder, as the Great Dragon’s wings majestically beat the air. There were a few cars and tiny figures in the streets but he could not see any buses.
Maybe people already know that the Night Creatures are attacking London
. He guessed the city was already shutting down under the demons’ onslaught.

‘How much further?’ he wondered. He wriggled uncomfortably, feeling stiff from sitting still for so long, even though he, like all the other riders, had a foam-filled pad to sit on inside the webbing cage. He had been impressed with the resourceful way that the soldiers had equipped the dragons for the journey. Now he knew what the books meant by “good field-craft”. He kept licking his lips, which had dried out in the rushing air stream, but at least the helmet he had been given at the barracks had a visor. Otherwise, he knew the wind would have made his eyes water and he would have screwed them up all the way.

He noticed Sam scanning the city and then he beckoned
to signal that he wanted to come closer. Jonah called to Mordiford to come as near to Ffyrnig as he could.

Sam shouted, ‘Look down there. See that green space. I think that’s Battersea Park. Yeah, yeah, it is! OK, Jonah, look for a road bridge over the Thames with a big railway bridge beside it. That will be Blackfriars Bridge and you’ll see a footbridge just beyond it. That’s Millennium Bridge and that’s where we turn left to St Paul’s.’

Jonah thumped Ffyrnig’s back to get his attention. ‘Sam says we’re nearly there.’ He relayed Sam’s instructions.

Ffyrnig stared down at the acres of buildings below them. ‘This is unbelievable,’ he said. ‘Last time I flew over London, you could pass over it in just a few minutes. You human beings are busy little creatures, aren’t you? It’s like an ants’ nest down there.’

Mordiford grunted. ‘What do these men eat? They have built all over the meadows where their cows and sheep ought to be. Daft, I call it.’

‘Look, Ffyrnig!’ Jonah was tense with excitement. ‘There’s the footbridge. So St Paul’s is a bit ahead on our left.’ He raised his visor to shout to Sam. ‘What do you want us to do?’

Sam was peering down at the river far below them. ‘Go just low enough so that we can see what’s down there. Get everyone to hover for a bit.’

Jonah looked at Sam in alarm. ‘They can’t! Not really. Ffyrnig says they are too big to glide on the air. They can’t do what buzzards and things do. They need to keep moving.’

‘Ah, I should have thought of that. Stupid of me. OK, get them to circle St Paul’s then, just low enough so that we can see what’s down there.’

Jonah scrambled to his knees in the webbing cage, so that he could see all the dragon-riders and waved his
hands above his head to get their attention.

‘We’re going to go a bit lower,’ he yelled, using his hands to mime
“a little bit lower”
. ‘Then we’ll fly round the cathedral in a circle.’ He drew a circle in the air and mimed scrutinising the cathedral. ‘Then the captain’ —pointing at Sam—‘will give the signal. All right?’

The Great Dragon bellowed instructions to the other drakes. The troopers, grinning, all gave the thumbs-up and the dragons rumbled that they understood. Jonah pulled on Ffyrnig’s wing to tell him to lose height. He realised he was excited but somehow not scared any more. Yeah, the dragons would tackle any number of demons and the brilliant soldiers riding them would cope, whatever happened. This was going to work, he thought, as the dragons wheeled above the roofs. The dragons would sweep the Night Creatures back to their world and everything would go back to normal. Except for the dragons, of course.

But people would love them! Maybe they could all live in a sanctuary in the Welsh mountains. Or in Scotland! His Dad had told him that someone had opened a lodge where you could stay and explore the country. The man owned a huge amount of land and was hoping to re-introduce the wild animals that had once roamed the Highlands. Moose and lynx, Dad said, and bears, and
wolves
.

Yes, he particularly remembered his dad talking about wolves because, at the time, he had thought that if he ever stayed there, it would be really cool to see a wolf pack. Now he knew that he would never want to see a wolf close up again. Just in case it was not a real wolf but a demon. He shuddered, seeing again in his mind’s eye the terrible moments in the lane by Erin’s farm. The memory made him feel sick to his stomach. He did not want to think about the demon-wolf attack. The Scottish sanctuary sounded
wonderful, though. Perhaps the owner would like some dragons nesting in his forests. Jonah chuckled at the picture forming in his mind and then, as Ffyrnig lost height, he came back to the present with a start. He shook himself. Right, now it was time to deal with the Night Creatures.

And then he looked down.

He leaned out of his webbing cage, staring down in bewilderment at the large building to his left.

‘Ffyrnig,’ he yelled. ‘I can’t see anything moving.
Sam, is
that St Paul’s down there?’

‘It is St Paul’s, yes, but you’re right. It looks very quiet. Shall we go a bit lower?’

The dragons banked and wheeled round as they lost a little height, so that they could get a better view of the cathedral roof. Jonah ran his eyes over its length and scanned the open spaces and the surrounding area. Nothing was moving; there were no demons on the cathedral’s dome or its roofs, nothing moved in its courtyards or the streets nearby. There was neither a Night Creature nor a human being in sight.

He scanned the London skyline. Ahead of him, he could see the building they called the Gherkin jutting above the spreading jumble of roofs. There were no birds flying around it and, more importantly, he couldn’t see any angels. Nothing moved in the air above the rest of the City, either. So where was Saint Michael?

When the Archangel told Bryn that he would meet Jonah and the SAS in London, he had said that the Night Creatures were swarming towards St Paul’s. What had happened? Perhaps the angels had already dealt with them all. But in that case, why were the streets deserted? Where had all the people gone? Hanging on to his webbing cage, he turned to look back at the other dragons and their
riders. It was obvious they were as mystified as he was.

Sam held up his hands in query. ‘Could they be inside?’ he yelled.

Jonah shrugged and asked Ffyrnig to fly back over St Paul’s again. ‘Go as low as you dare, will you?’ Perhaps he had missed something when they had passed over the cathedral just now.

He scanned the roofs and pinnacles but not a thing moved. Even the seagulls had gone. Maybe the demons
had
been here and had frightened all the birds away, and then moved on. But why? Why would the Night Creatures leave one of the greatest churches in Britain?

There was a shout from behind. They turned to see Llandeilo flying a few feet below the others. Jack was gesturing away from St Paul’s to buildings on the other side of the river. Following the line of Jack’s pointing finger, Ffyrnig began to drop towards the city and then, with a startled gasp, wheeled away and soared upwards again. The rest of the squadron followed close behind.

‘Hey! Whoa! What are you doing?’ Jonah shrieked.

‘Look! Look at the pavement beside the river. Can’t you see what’s down there?

‘No, what is it?’

‘We need to think. We have to plan our attack.’ Ffyrnig sounded agitated.

‘Ffyrnig, what
is
it?’ Jonah was staring down at something that looked like a big greyish-blue hall-carpet stretched along the Embankment. Other buildings of the City of London were coming into focus far below, as the dragons lost height again. What was that big blue thing? He screwed up his eyes to squint through his visor. The blue stuff might be tarpaulin, he supposed, but it looked too soft and somehow
inflated
. A bit like a long bouncy castle. He simply could not work out what it was.

Ffyrnig was wheeling round, while the other eight dragons followed him closely, forming an enormous circle as they flew. They rumbled and called to Ffyrnig, and the soldiers tensed as the dragons kept glancing at each other, looking anxious.

‘I can’t hear what you are all saying because of the wind,
Ffyrnig. What’s the
matter?’
Jonah was getting irritated.

‘There’s a problem. That – that thing down there. We think it might be a child of Jormungandr.’

‘What? I don’t understand,’ Jonah began as Mordiford caught up and flew alongside. ‘What’s – what you said –
Yormy Gander?’

‘Jorm-un-gandr,”
called Mordiford. ‘Huge sea serpent. Dangerous. Have to get rid of it fast.’

Jonah coughed as Mordiford’s smoky breath blew under his visor. He thumped Ffyrnig’s back. ‘What do you think we ought to do? Can we burn it out?’

The Great Dragon looked over his shoulder at the rest of the drakes wheeling in the sky. ‘Fire won’t be enough with a child of Jormungandr. The hatchling will have thick skin, lots of blubber. We must seek to wound it mortally.’

‘Rip the blighter to death,’ Mordiford added with relish. ‘Won’t be easy, though. He and his kind are very nasty customers. I expect he could swallow one of the gargouilles whole.’

Jonah felt his hands beginning to tremble. He had imagined the nine dragons swooping down, pouring fire on to the Night Creatures and sending them scurrying back to the Underworld. He had expected something like Hereford all over again, only better, with the SAS troopers and the other eight dragons there to sweep the evil creatures away. It had never crossed his mind that they might have to fight any other sort of beast. He leaned down to stare below Ffyrnig’s wing and blinked to clear his eyes. He started to make out the immense shape of the serpent stretching along the Embankment by the Millennium footbridge.

Sam came up alongside. ‘What on earth is that thing in front of the Globe?’ he shouted.

‘The globe?’

‘The Globe Theatre. Shakespeare. You know?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ Jonah nodded vigorously. He had only seen the famous theatre in photographs. He cupped his hands round his mouth and shouted, ‘The dragons say it’s a sea serpent.’

‘But it’s
huge!’

From the captain’s tone, the Great Dragon guessed what Sam and Jonah were talking about. ‘Jonah, tell him we think it is one of the hatchlings of the Midgard Serpent. The Captain may know about him. Must have been disturbed, when the Night Creatures began to swarm up to the surface.’

‘Thanks.’ Jonah cupped his hands around his mouth again. ‘Sam? Sam! Can you hear me? They think it’s the young of something called the Midgard Serpent.’

‘Oh, no! I remember those legends.’ From Sam’s appalled expression, Jonah could see that he had just delivered some really bad news. He shook his head and shrugged to show he did not understand.

‘The Midgard Serpent, or Jormungandr, as it’s called, was supposed to curl right round the Earth,’ Sam yelled to Jonah, who now realised why the dragons were so agitated. ‘Let’s hope there’s only one round here and let’s also hope the stories exaggerated!’ Then, as the dragons flew towards the Thames again, Sam stared down at the massive coils of the creature on the South Bank, and tightened his mouth in a grim line. ‘I’m going to have to think how we deal with this,’ he called.

Jonah peered down, thoroughly alarmed. This would not be the firefight they had all been imagining, where the dragons would swoop down, spew flame and shoot away. This time, they would have to come in close to the enemy and that meant they would all be in real danger.

Swallowing hard, Jonah beckoned to Sam and cupped his hands round his mouth.

‘The dragons say fire won’t be enough,’ he yelled. ‘They’ll have to use their teeth and claws.’

Sam nodded and waved to show he had understood and then relayed the message to the other riders.

Jonah turned round and thumped the Great Dragon to get his attention. ‘Ffyrnig, you know about this serpent-thing and we don’t. What’s the best way to attack?’

‘I’ve been thinking. I suggest Llandeilo dives first to attract its attention and then the rest of us can swoop on it together. Mordiford and I will attack the head and the others can go for its body.’

‘But what if it catches Llandeilo?’ Jonah asked anxiously. ‘Mordiford said it can swallow a dragon whole!’

‘He’s exaggerating!’ Ffyrnig groaned. ‘In any case, Llandeilo’s very fast and he’s small for a British drake. He’ll be able to wheel in and out, and keep those trees along the footpath between him and the serpent. Don’t you worry, Jonah. A child of Jormungandr can’t easily outwit a nimble Welsh gargouille!’

‘OK. I’ll take your word for it. Tell the other dragons, would you, and I’ll try to make the soldiers understand.’

‘We want to get it well away from there before we kill it,’ Ffyrnig said. ‘If we destroy it there, behind those railings, it will be an awkward business to remove the carcass. No, we need to drive it towards the river, if we can. The railings seem to run right along the front of the buildings, though.’

Jonah drew a deep breath to steady himself, grabbed the harness and carefully pulled himself to his feet, hanging on to Ffyrnig’s wing bone for support. The rush of air tugged at his coverall, snapping the fabric against his body. His heart was thudding in his chest. What if the dragons did not understand what Ffyrnig thought they should do? Some of them might take fright and fly away, and then there wouldn’t be enough of them left to overpower the
serpent. He caught sight of the sea monster again, as Ffyrnig wheeled around, and his head filled with pictures of riders being torn off the dragons’ backs and sucked into the serpent’s throat. He turned to see the SAS troopers looking at him, waiting to know what to do.

Then Oscar suddenly waved to get his attention and pointed along the south side of the Thames. For a moment, he did not understand what the trooper was trying to show him, and then he saw the people. Some distance away, behind barriers that had been erected well away from the Globe, there were crowds of people. Now he noticed tiny shapes that were police cars and fire engines blocking the ends of all the streets that led down to the river. London south of the river had not emptied after all.

As the drakes circled high above the city, Jonah planted his feet firmly on Ffyrnig’s warm hide, leaned back against the dragon’s wing-bone and raised his hands in the air. He pointed at Llandeilo ridden by Jack, and then held up a finger for “one”. Then he pointed down at the monster, slapped his hand against his own head and pointed at the monster again. Jack signed that he understood. Llandeilo was going in first and would try to make the serpent move its head. Making his hand signals as big and deliberate as he could, Jonah showed that Ffyrnig and Mordiford would attack next, going for the creature’s head, and that the rest of the dragons would slash at the monster’s body. They needed to force it towards the river. The soldiers all gave him a “thumbs up” sign. Toby and Jack, riding the gargouilles, were grinning. Jonah looked round the great circle wheeling in the London sky and then turned to Llandeilo.

‘Go,’ he roared and Llandeilo banked until he was over Millennium Bridge, hovered for a few seconds to assess his target and then hurtled down towards Jormungandr’s Child.