Chapter Nine

The dragon's lair was not as Harry had expected. Near the summit of a low, rounded mountain there was a long gash in the mountainside. It was wide enough that one could have dropped a large house down it without touching the sides. A stream plummeted over the lip of the rock, vanishing into the crevasse. Around the water cotton-grass rippled and swayed and the yellow stars of bog-asphodel were scattered over the peaty ground.

Harry swooped out of the sky, tilting his wings with the wind. Just above the ground his form shimmered and in the place of the falcon a young man was running over the rocky slope. He knelt at the edge of the chasm and peered down into it. 'This is it? How deep is it?' He called as Malvine circled slowly downwards.

She landed gracefully, wings folding inwards. The air blurred, she unfolded from a crouch, a blue cloak rippling around her shoulders.

'Six or seven hundred feet at least,' she said, 'and you must go down by the Witch's Ladder. That is, unless you wish to fly in the dark on the cavern's winds. The way out is easier than the way in.'

Harry peered over the edge, 'So this Witch's Ladder ...'

She strode over to stand beside him, 'I will become the ladder, my bones will be its rungs. The cavern is deep, but there are ledges melted into the rock for times like this. Each time the ladder ends there will be a ledge for you.'

'That has to be one of the creepiest things I've ever heard of. How strong is this ladder?'

'Strong enough, but watch for my smaller bones, and particularly my spine. Please,' with that she fell forwards into the darkness.

The air shimmered and bones rattled over the edge of the rock and down into the darkness. Harry conjured a bobbing werelight, gingerly took hold of the first rung and began to climb. The bones were dry and though they were smooth they did not slide under his fingers or boots. His breath caught in his throat with each fumbling step as he tested the rungs. At times he slid downwards to avoid rungs where the bones shifted uneasily beneath his feet.

After an age Harry's he reached the cavern floor. There was a rattle and Malvine gave a long, relieved sigh. Harry stretched and glanced up. Far above a small sliver of daylight ran across the dome of the cave. He looked around him, in the glow of the werelight, he could see mounds of items lying across the cave. There were piles of gold and silver towers of chalices and goblets; heaps of precious stones; sparkling amulets; arrays of swords and spears, the list went on and on. Treasures beyond counting were hidden here, beneath the earth. Even a tenth of it would have made kings green with envy. It was, however, what lay on the other side of the treasure that caught Harry's attention. A lizard-like head, the size of a cart, with scales the colour of a winter's sky lay on a mound of decaying furs and silks.

He stood watching the great head move ever so slightly with long, slow breaths. Then one eye opened. Dual lids flickered and a red-gold eye gleamed in the light.

'Daughter, you are back. Is this the warrior?' The voice was a stony whisper.

'Yes Mother, the Last Friend told me where to find him.'

'I wonder what His game is. Watch out for Him, Little One. The human does not look like much, though He would know best,' the dragon's eye swivelled round to fix on Harry.

Malvine's gaze had been enthralling. This gaze bound Harry in iron. His limbs froze and his strength drained from him. The world was ash and flame. He saw cities of glass and steel melting. He saw lakes boiling dry and forests burning. His skin was fire and he could not scream. His flesh bubbled, cracked and turned to ash. Then the dragon blinked. Harry fell forwards, coughing and shaking.

'He is strong, Mother, how many men have ever survived your gaze?' Malvine asked, stepping between Harry and the dragon.

'Not many. Now he need not fear any attacking his mind again. Help him up Daughter. Give him some water.'

Malvine helped Harry up and flicked a hand out. A bronze goblet, filled with water from the stream which cascaded down into the cavern, flew to her hand. She held it up to his lips and gently poured it into Harry's mouth. He held up a trembling hand as the water trickled down his chin. His skin was unmarked, unblemished.

'Thank you,' he croaked. He steadied himself and took the goblet for himself. He drained it and let it fall, clinking onto the ground.

'Do you know why you are here, little hero?' The dragon asked, slowly shifting to face them.

'Ah ...'

'He knows, Mother,' Malvine said calmly. 'I told him that he is here to give you the death you deserve.'

'Good.'

'Erm, yes,' Harry said slowly. 'This is definitely what you want? I'm not that keen on the idea of killing you, I was kind of hoping that I might be able to help.'

'It is my time to die. This is not a time for help, it is a time for deeds of valour and renown. It is a time for songs to be made.' The dragon laughed, and coins and treasures rolled over the floor.

'Why?'

The dragon gave what might have been a shrug. 'I was created by your kind long ages ago. All of my folk were, from the seeds of the ancestors. Men were so mighty, and, oh what did they call them? Scientiaand magicae, that was it,became one for them. They saw themselves as gods; they changed the world. We were moulded from the raw stardust of the universe as weapons for a new age.

'They forgot that a weapon with a mind may think for itself. We spoke to one another, we knew our purpose, and we knew our desires. They forgot that not all believed in their ordered world. Some called upon older powers; powers we allied ourselves with.

'The world changed. The towers and cities of men are dust now. We did not change though, we were created as weapons, as warriors, and we will remain warriors. It is in our blood. And a warrior must die in battle. I am old, I saw the days when men were gods. I remember them, though thousands of years have passed.

'Even now I am a warrior, and I will not go quietly into the night!' She reared upwards, snapping her jaws. Tongues of fire flickered from her nostrils. 'So little fighter; will you do me the honour, or will I have a meal whilst my last child hunts for a new hero and I wait in my own tomb, surrounded by my grave goods?'

Harry sighed, 'It doesn't sound as if I have a choice.'

'Good. The young wyrm may have her own gifts in mind, but I would give you something myself. Ask a boon of me,' she said, settling down again with a groan.

Harry paused, 'You, ah, you've been around for a while, so I guess you must know the various powerful entities of the realm well?'

'Indeed.'

'I'm looking for one in particular: The Green Man of Knowledge. Have you heard of him?'

The dragon closed her eyes. 'Yes. I have. You are sure you want to find him? He is dangerous and unpredictable. Is that all you want? If so Malvine will show you the way. You may also take anything else you like from my treasure, if you succeed.'

'Thank you. How many have tried, may I ask?' Harry said, letting the werelight dim till he could only just pick out the dragon's bulk on the other side of the hoard.

'How many leaves are there in the forest?' The dragon asked. 'Daughter, leave us.'

'Farewell Mother, may you find glory.'

'Is this it then?' Harry asked, drawing his wand.

The dragon stood, limbs creaking. 'Lo there do I see my father; Lo there do I see my mother and my sisters and my brothers; Lo there do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning. Lo, they do call me, they bid me take my place among them, where the brave may live forever.'

'I'll take that as a yes,' Harry muttered and jumped backwards as talons swept through the air.

He closed his eyes for a second, shielding them with his forearm. He poured power into werelight. It blazed above them like a small sun. The dragon roared, swiping at the globe of light with its claws.

'Nox,' Harry muttered and the light died. He tapped the wand against his eyelids, 'Nox videre.' He looked around, to his eyes the cavern was faded, washed out and grey, but visible. 'Muffliato.'

The dragon already shaking its head to banish the after image of the blinding light. 'What trickery is this? Is this how you plan to defeat me? Tricks and illusions. Let me teach you how to play the game.' Flames leapt from its mouth and it swung its head around in an arc. Flames crackled through the air, skimming the treasure. Water hissed and steamed.

Harry's flicked his wand. A blue dome flashed into existence and water poured from the ground sliding over it. The flame struck the shield. Harry was hurled backwards, rolling over on the rocky ground. He struggled to his feet, barely hold the shield steady. Then the flame passed.

Harry staggered as the pressure ceased and released the shield. He pointed his wand towards the waterfall and swished it through the air. The water hung in the air and then surged forwards. The dragon staggered, crashing into a pillar rock. The stone cracked with a thunderclap and shook.

The dragon heaved itself upwards, a blast of white-hot fire turned the water to steam. White vapour plumed upwards. The dragon turned and gripped the crumbling pillar between its forepaws. The dragon's muscles stood out like ropes as it tugged. The rock groaned and then shattered. Stones and lumps of granite hurtled through the air. Harry dove behind a pile of gold, raising a small shield over his head as the rocks rained down.

There was silence in the cavern as the dust settled, save for the splashing water. Harry took a long, slow breath. Was the muffling charm was still working? He peered out from behind the mound of treasure. The dragon was nowhere in sight. He looked right and left, his heart hammering in his chest, still nothing. He rolled sideways, on instinct, a second before the massive jaws snapped at him from behind.

'You're fast, little hero. A good thing; you need to be,' the dragon rumbled, panting as it released its pent-up breath. 'Come on now. A little chat never hurt anyone, one of us is going to die. Why not die politely?'

Harry sighed and pulled a short sword from a pile, testing the weight. 'Well I must admit I'd hate to have fought you in your prime, or actually ever. Being polite to someone you're trying to kill though? Why? Surely, it's nicer to make them feel justified. This though was a terrible idea. Still, AVADA KEDAVRA!'

Harry looked at the dragon as he cast the curse and he saw an ancient, proud creature. A warrior waiting for a fitting end. The hatred necessary for the curse faltered. The deadly green light faded into nothing. 'Shit.'

'Something the matter, trickster?' She slashed her claws towards him and the air split apart as a white lightning bolt sliced through the air.

Harry threw himself to the side as her claws began to move, hastily conjuring a shield. The bolt of brilliant, sizzling energy smashed the shield apart and hurled him across the cave. The shield had taken the brunt of the blast, but his clothes were smouldering, he lay, gasping for breath for a moment.

He hauled himself to his feet with a grunt. 'Do you like killing?'

The dragon's head swung towards him. 'What is battle without death?' Her jaws yawned wide.

'Gwaywffon drywanir.' A spear of indigo light leapt from Harry's wand. The dragon twisted, but too slowly. She screamed as the spear burnt through her wing, leaving a blackened, torn hole.

The scream rose into a ululating wail and the golden treasures rose into the air. Harry took a step backwards. He flicked his wand outwards and ancient battered shields shot from the piles of treasure, forming a wall around him. He crouched down, waiting.

The cry stopped suddenly. Then with the force of a hurricane it struck. Golden coins ricocheted off the bronze shields like bullets. Goblets, hurled with the force to crack skulls, clanged off iron sigils and wooden boards, cracking and denting them. The sound was deafening. Harry put his hands to his ears. The tiny flicks of his wand he could still manage kept fresh shields flying into place. Finally, the barrage stopped, leaving his ears ringing.

'Vade.' Blue light crackled from the wand. The air rippled. The shields shattered and exploded outwards. Thin shards of wood and metal shot through the air. Fire lanced from the dragon's jaws in a short burst of pure, white light. Splinters and metal were vaporised in an instant. The shock wave hit the walls and the lair shook. Dust spiralled down from the ceiling.

The dragon curled inwards, a hacking cough wrenching at her throat. Harry hesitated, looking up nervously as the rocky walls of the cavern groaned. Then he moved. He scooped up the sword and ran. His feet skimmed over the loose treasure. His wand flicked out, a thin, black whip of shadows curling outwards.

The dragon pulled herself onto her feet and charged towards him. Harry swept his right arm around and the shadow-whip lashed outwards, wrapping itself around the largest of the dragon's fangs. The whip coiled inwards, jerking Harry towards the gaping jaws. Swinging himself upwards he thrust the sword forwards. He almost flew over the dragon's lip. Carried forwards by the momentum of the swing and met by the charging dragon the steel blade sunk into the roof of the dragon's mouth.

Harry hung on for dear life. The black coils of the whip snaked outwards, binding him to the fangs as the dragon thrashed. Blood streamed from the wound; it washed over him in a river as the dragon shook the sword free and it soared from Harry's hand, out into the cavern. Mighty jaws slammed shut around him. He curled into a ball, barely avoiding decapitation. Then with a bone-jarring thud she collapsed. Harry groaned and rolled out of the open mouth as the shadowy coils of the spell faded away.

He leaned against the dragon's jaw and took a long breath. 'I need a bath.'

Above him the dome of the cavern shivered and the stones creaked. He rolled his eyes and stumbled away from the corpse.

'Come, we must leave,' Malvine said. She appeared out of the shadows. She strode towards him, picking up the sword Harry had used, wiping it clean and sheathing it. 'The lair is no longer stable.'

Harry nodded. 'How?'

'I will fly us out. I never liked the descent, but ascending I can manage,' she said, passing the sword to Harry. 'Take this, there are few blades which have drunk the blood of a dragon. She would wish it to see the light again.'

'Fine.'

A shower of pebbles and rocks clattered over precious bowls and shields. She strode into the small pool beneath the waterfall where it glinted in the light and raised her arms. The water bubbled and frothed around her. Steam curled upwards. The blue cloak flowed outwards for a second before it became a pair of leathery wings. The woman was gone, the dragon had returned.

Malvine turned to Harry, Her long, serpentine neck curving round. 'Come.'

Harry thrust the sheathed sword into his belt and staggered over to her. He heaved himself up onto the smooth shoulders. He applied a quick sticking charm and wrapped his arms around the broad neck. 'Let's go.'

She nodded, brushing her cheek against her mother's flank once more and leapt upwards. Blue wings beat the air, lifting them upwards. Rocks and crumbling stone bounced off her flanks, buffeting them as they rose. She swerved, spiralling out of the path of a cart-sized boulder as it plunged downwards.

Harry raised his wand; a pale, white shield blossomed above them. Rocks disintegrated as they struck it and Malvine shot higher and higher, closing in on the widening gap of daylight. The lip of the gash crumbled, stones plunging downwards. The rocks slammed into the shield. The impact threw Malvine and her wings missed a beat. They hung suspended in the air and then began to drop.

Harry felt his stomach fall away. He could see the wet rocks, hundreds of feet below and the great, grey carcass of the dead dragon lying on the golden treasure. Then with an effort Malvine righted herself and her wings opened wide. They skimmed through the air and she pulled them upwards, drawing them towards the light.

Fresh air filled Harry's lungs as they soared into the open sky. Below them the mountainside split apart and collapsed in upon itself. The hills rang with the crashing boom as the slope collapsed and dust plumed upwards. Malvine roared. She opened her jaws and a billowing flare of fire leapt into the sky, hanging above them as they swept back towards the ground.

In the cave a figure dressed in black glanced upwards impassively and ran its hand along the dragon's flank.

The castle was perched on top of a rock in the centre of a broad river. High, granite walls loomed over clear, blue waters. Red turrets blazed in the light of the setting sun. There was no movement behind the windows. Creepers and vines curled around the walls, embracing them.

'Welcome to the Dolorous Tower, home of The Green Man of Knowledge,' Malvine said quietly. 'I am not sure where the entrance is. Mother only brought me here once when I was very young.'

'Don't worry. I can take it from here,' Harry said. 'Again, I am sorry for ... well I'm sorry.'

'My Mother died as she wished. Would that all were so lucky. I am not going anywhere though. I have a debt, and if you will not ask for a reward I shall repay it as I see fit. Now shut up about it,' she said, pushing Harry's shoulder lightly. He stumbled, wincing as the movement pulled on his bruised skin.

'No unpleasant legends about the place? My last travelling companions seemed to have a story for everywhere,' Harry said as they began to walk down the worn path towards the river.

Malvine gave him a long look. 'It's called the Dolorous Tower.'

'You may have a point.'

Two hours later they had circled the tower four times. They crossed and re-crossed the old, stone bridges which spanned the river on either side and yet they could find no way in. Malvine had searched the rushes for a boat, but the only sign that there had once been one was a rotted and frayed rope tied to a crumbling, wooden jetty.

'I'm going to have to go alone,' Harry said for the third time.

'But I cannot take another shape without sunlight. I will not be able to accompany you. If harm comes to you I will be shamed for the rest of my life. Please, wait until morning, wait until the light,' Malvine said, gripping his arm. 'I do not want you to come to harm.'

'The castle's empty, I doubt the Green Man is even there. Have you seen the slightest sign of life whilst we've been here? Anyway, even if you could transform, as a dragon there is nowhere for you to land there.'

'I am not bound to dragon-skin or human-flesh. I can feel a presence inside that tower, even if I cannot see it. Something is watching us,' she said.

Harry landed cautiously on the wide window as pigeons, startled the sudden appearance of a predator in their home shot outwards, darting around him. He looked after them, bright eyes narrowed in hunger, for a moment before pulling himself back to the task in hand. He hopped down onto the floor, landing as a man rather than as a bird.

He drew his wand cautiously, looking around the room. It was bare of furniture and dust thick and even upon the stone. The air was dry and filled with the stench of pigeon droppings which lay in piles under the rafters. Holding a hand to his nose he slipped from the room and onto a weathered, spiral staircase.

With a flick of his wand silver light appeared. He made his way down through the tower slowly, peering in at the empty, dust covered rooms. The floors were littered with broken glass from the windows and the corners were filled with shadows. He paused beside a window where the moonlight streamed in; he pressed a hand to his side taking shallow breaths. He peeled back his shirt and looked down, his skin was clammy, the bruises from the battle had turned purple and yellow and spread out over his chest.

'Someday the ghosts of broken ribs I ought to have had are going to catch up with me,' he muttered, straightening the shirt again.

At the corner of his eye he caught a movement. He turned, just in time to see a shadow flit across a doorway to his right. He started and gave chase, hurrying after it. He arrived just in time to see the end of something pale and grey slide out of the room through another door. He ignored his various aches and strode after it, wand at the ready.

'Wait!' He called, but it ignored him.

On and on the shadowy figure led him, down the dark stairs and through the empty halls. No matter how fast, or how slowly, he went it was always only just flitting around the next corner. Tapestries, grey with dust, covered the walls. It was as he reached a sharp turn in the passage that he realised that, though he left a trail of footprints in the dust, whatever he was following left none.

He took a slow breath and turned the corner. There was nothing but a bare wall. He thumped his hand against it in frustration. The noise should have been a dull thud. Instead the rock boomed under his hand, echoing and shaking. He stepped backwards.

The stone melted, a face appearing in it as if pushing through. It was almost human, but the skin was green, and emerald hair and beard were tangled roots. A second later a man with skin the colour of summer leaves and a cloak as brown as the earth was standing in the corridor.

'What do you want with The Green Man of Knowledge?' He asked.