“We can’t turn back now,” Patrik said. “We have to get across. We have to keep going.” He stood with his arms crossed, stubbornness etched into every line on his face.
“I figured you’d say that as well,” the wizard replied, taking a big gulp of water from his flask. “But you’re right. We certainly can’t go back the way we came. I guess we best get on with it then.” He put away his water flask and mounted Redwing, who launched herself into the air.
Patrik and Larkin were right behind them, but the small group’s mood was as bleak as their surroundings. No one spoke and no one felt like speaking. They flew in silence until sunset when Patrik asked, “Where should we land?”
The wizard, whose mood had not improved, said, “Since you won’t let me use my magic to help us out, it’s all the same to me. Any place is just as good as another.”
After finding a spot to set down, they ate a cold supper as there was no firewood to gather. Patrik couldn’t help but notice how nervous the dragons appeared. Their eyes were constantly whirring, changing color from orange to brown to red and back again, like living flames. Their heads rotated as if they were searching for something. They kept clutching and stretching their claws as if readying for battle. Neither one of them had said a word since they’d landed.
“What is the matter with you two?” the wizard snapped. “You’re acting as if you expect to see ghosts or something.”
“Exactly,” Larkin said. “This is the Valley of Death where lost souls live.”
“Oh.” Allard’s head suddenly swung back and forth, surveying the night around him.
“Do you really believe that?” Patrik asked.
“I’m not sure,” Redwing answered, “but all of the other legends have proven true so far.”
“There is that,” the wizard said.
They spent a fretful but uneventful night, with no one getting much sleep. All four of them were grateful to see the sunrise. They rose, groggy and grumpy, and broke camp with their usual efficiency. Day followed night, and their routine never varied. On their third day, they resorted to eating the dried fish the wizard had saved. Larkin ate nothing. On their fourth day, their water ran out, and Larkin had now been four days without food. He was getting weaker and weaker, and all four of them knew he couldn’t last much longer.
“I think we’d better stop early,” Patrik said, caressing Larkin’s side with his hand. “Larkin’s not doing very well.”
Neither the wizard nor Redwing tried to argue with him, and Patrik figured they were as tired and discouraged as he was even if they were not as hungry as Larkin. The long days of flying over the endless expanses of barren earth without a single thing to break the monotony were taking its toll in more ways than one. Patrik had begun to feel it would never end, and that they would all die from hunger and thirst in the Valley of Death. Worse than that was the belief that they had failed, that they would never be able to stop the war and that the entire world would end up being as empty and dead as the valley over which they flew. And, from the moody actions of the others, Patrik was pretty sure they felt the same way.
Larkin and Patrik landed first. Redwing came down in a slow glide that lacked her usual high-spirited landings. She touched one hind foot down, and then the other. As she set down her first foreleg, the dirt beneath her cracked and crumbled. She set her last leg down, and the earth beneath her opened up as the thin crust crumbled beneath her weight. She tumbled through the opening with the wizard still in his saddle. The crack continued to widen and before either Patrik or Larkin could react, they too fell in.
As they fell, both dragons instinctively pulled in their wings to protect them from injury. Patrik and Allard gripped their harnesses with white-knuckle strength, hoping the dragons landed feet first, so that they wouldn’t be crushed beneath them. They fell straight down for fifty foot-lengths, before finally coming to a stop. Larkin’s right foreleg was crumpled beneath his body, and Redwing’s tail was bent at a ninety-degree angle. Rat jumped off Larkin’s back before the dragon landed and escaped injury. Both humans suffered little more than a few bumps and scratches.
Patrik scrambled off Larkin’s back, stood up, and gazed around in amazed silence. The dragon slowly lifted himself up, tested his leg, and then joined Patrik in staring at the world where they found themselves. Wizard Allard helped Redwing straighten out her tail, and then looked around. “By my beard!” he whispered.
They’d landed in a huge cavern, one whose walls were completely lined with jewels. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds, and all manner of lesser gems sparkled with rainbow-like colors in the dim light. Tunnels spiked away from its center like spokes on a wagon wheel. A small stream coursed through its middle, alongside its banks grew trees, bushes, and grass whose leaves, stems, and branches were of varying shades of white. Small birdlike creatures sang and flitted among the branches, their songs echoing back and forth in the large cavern. A deer, whose hide was so pale as to be almost white, grazed at the back of the cavern, unafraid of their sudden appearance.
A hush filled the cavern giving it an almost sacred quality. Even the deer’s light footfalls sounded mystical and unearthly. It was as if this place had been set aside for some greater purpose, and they had wandered into it unknowingly, and without the right to be there. Even Rat, who usually was the first to explore any new surroundings, sat back on her haunches in hushed admiration.
“Where are we?” Patrik whispered, as if afraid that his voice might break the magic spell that seemed to surround them.
“I don’t know,” Larkin said softly. “I’ve never heard of anything like this. Do you think the water’s safe?”
“I would think so, since the other animals are drinking it,” the wizard answered.
“I’ll try it first,” Redwing volunteered.
She made her way slowly toward the center of the cavern, her tail trailing on the grass behind her. She dipped her nose toward the water, sniffing. “Smells like water,” she said over her shoulder. She flicked out her tongue and tasted it. “Seems all right to me,” she said, taking a big gulp.
“Well, if we don’t have water we’re going to die,” Patrik said, “so I’m going to try it too.”
“There is that,” the wizard said, following Patrik and Larkin to the stream.
The water was cool, clear, and wonderful, and exactly what their parched bodies needed. Larkin was soon nibbling at the grasses and bushes, while Allard, Patrik, and Redwing contented themselves with dried fish. “For some reason, it just doesn’t seem right to hunt in this place. Look at the animals,” Redwing said. “They aren’t even afraid of us.”
The peaceful serenity of the cavern soon lulled the tired travelers to sleep. Time lost its meaning in the perpetual twilight of the underground world for they couldn’t tell daytime from night time. Exhausted, they slept, for the first time in several sunrises, without worry or fear.
A slithering. whispering noise like dry leaves tumbling across barren soil woke Patrik from his dreams. He propped himself up on one elbow, shook his head to clear away his sleepy fogginess, and bolted upright. “Larkin,” he hissed, “wake up!”
The dragon lifted his head from his front forelegs and let out a low, menacing growl. The others, awakened by it, immediately came to their feet and Rat’s fur stood straight up on her neck. In the cavern’s perpetual twilight, dozens of pairs of white milky eyes surrounded them and gleamed from the entrance of every tunnel. They were multi-faceted like Larkin’s and Redwing’s, but instead of whirling with color, they shone with the glossy whiteness of the blind.
“Fear not,” a voice said from the farthest reaches of the cavern. “We will not hurt you.”
“We welcome you to our home,” another voice said.
“Who are you?” the wizard asked.
“We are the inhabitants of the Valley of Death.”
“I thought only lost souls lived here,” Larkin said.
“We are the lost souls. There are no others but us, created by the dragon king to live underground, protected from the world above. This was Skyhawk’s plan, and it is fulfilled in us.”
“But you’re not ghosts,” Redwing said.
“No, we are the dragons of the earth,” the first voice said. “The earth is our home and from it we never stray. It nourishes us, protects us, and welcomes all who enter here. No one may ever leave.”
A slithering sound accompanied the words, and they watched as the earth dragon moved in closer. He was exactly the color of the rust brown earth that covered the Valley of Death. His head was triangular, like all dragons, but his wings were mere stubs, and instead of four powerful legs for landings and take-offs, he had several rows of tiny feet that propelled him along the ground. His tail dragged behind him, making the slithering sound that had first awakened Patrik.
The earth dragon constantly moved his head back and forth while his nostrils opened and closed as if he was sniffing the air around him.
Patrik recognized the movements as those of someone who was blind. “He can’t see,” he hissed to the others.
The blind dragon moved in the direction of Patrik’s voice, coming so close that his nose touched Patrik’s tunic.
Patrik had to force himself from jumping away from the dragon’s inspection.
“I have never smelled your kind,” the dragon said. “What are you?”
“I…I am a human.”
“Ah, one who walks on two legs. We have heard about your kind. We have also heard that you are magic users and no friend to dragons.” The dragon’s lips curled back revealing two rows of deadly sharp teeth.
Larkin, his injured foreleg still hurting, limped in between the two. “This human is my friend,” he said, “and he is not a magic user.”
“Our teachings say that all those who walk upon two legs are magic users,” the dragon said again.
“Then your teachings are wrong, for this one does not.” Larkin rose up to full height and his own teeth bared for battle. They jutted out from his jaws like daggers.
The earth dragon’s tongue flicked from between his teeth, darting through the air as he thought. “Very interesting,” he said at last, stepping away from the boy and cocking his head into a listening position. “We will discuss this. There are two of these who walk upon two legs, are there not?”
“There are,” Redwing said, “and they both are our friends.”
“We understand friendship,” the earth dragon said. “But how is it that you came to be here? We have not had visitors in thousands of seasons.”
“We fell through your roof,” Wizard Allard said, “when we landed for the night.” The wizard’s arms were crossed and he stood with both legs apart. Patrik recognized his posture as the one he took when he was ready to argue with someone. “What did you mean we can never leave?”
“The secret of the lost souls has been guarded from the beginning and must stay here forever. You must remain here forever.”
Chapter Sixteen
As Patrik thought about their present situation, his hands picked at the milky white grass with worried abstraction. Larkin grazed like a giant horse beside him. The wizard stared up at the jewel-covered walls, a frown creasing his forehead. Only Redwing and Rat seemed unaffected by their sudden imprisonment. Redwing slept exhausted at the far end of the cavern with the cat curled up beside her. Patrik raised his head to stare at Redwing, and realized with shock that he could see every rib in her body.
“We have to get out of here,” he said to the wizard. “Look at Redwing. She’s going to starve to death if she can’t hunt soon.”
“I know,” the wizard said. “But I’ll be flamed if I can figure out what to do. If we try to find our own way out, we’ll probably end up quickly lost.”
Patrik shredded a blade of grass in frustration. “Well, we have to do something. We can’t just sit here the rest of our lives.”
“Quiet! Someone’s coming,” the wizard commanded.
As Patrik fell silent, he could hear the sound that marked the arrival of one of the earth dragons. A young dragon, less than half the size of the ones they’d already met, entered the cavern.
“The Old Ones have discussed the fate of those who walk upon two legs. They may stay,” the earth dragon said. “I am to be your guide. I will lead you to our fields where you may eat and live.”
“We can’t stay here,” Patrik said.
“Of course you can’t. This is our sacred jewelled cavern, where we assemble to honor Skyhawk. Everything in this place is sacred to him and cannot be touched. No one may stay here.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Patrik interrupted, “we can’t live here with you. We have to continue on our journey. We have to find Skyhawk.”
The young dragon tilted his head toward Patrik as if confused by the boy’s statement. “You mean you do not wish to stay with us?” Disbelief colored his words.
“We can’t,” the wizard said. “If we do, the entire world will be destroyed.” His hands were clenched in frustration.
“Your world, not ours. We do not concern ourselves with what happens above us. This is our world, and Skyhawk protects it.”
“If the war in the world is not stopped, it will affect you too,” Redwing said as she joined her companions. “The magic users will steal the life energy from every living thing in order to continue fighting. Sooner or later, they will begin to drain this hidden place, too.”
“Is this true?” The dragon turned his blind eyes toward Larkin.
“It is true, and time is running out,” Larkin said. “By now the war must have already started. We have to get to Skyhawk as he is the only one who can stop it,”
“I will tell the Old Ones.”
They watched him leave, making note of which tunnel he took.
“We could follow him,” Patrik suggested.
“That would only lead us to their council, and I don’t think that would do us any good. If their Old Ones are like ours, they’re not going to listen to anything that might change their way of thinking,” Redwing said.
Larkin nodded his agreement. “The Old Ones never listen to the young ones, and they never like to change their way of doing things.”
“I can get us out of here,” the wizard said.
“No magic!” Redwing replied