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  ‘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.

  18

  Reunited

  ‘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.’

  ‘Who locked you up?’ asked Squitcher.

  ‘Granite,’ said Copper grimly.

  Amy squirmed.

  Copper was almost lying on the floor beside the dragon. Gently she eased the tiny hook between Boldly Seer’s lips. She began to slip the thread off the pointed teeth.

  ‘This is like French knitting,’ said Copper. She giggled. ‘Poof! What does this dragon eat? Her breath is awful … Here it comes … It’s coming off, it’s crocheting itself … It’s going soft and silky.’

  Boldly Seer lay very still. She did not blink her eyes, but stared at Copper intently. At last Copper finished.

  ‘There!’ She stood up. ‘All done.’

  The dragon suddenly let out a great whoosh of smoke. Everyone jumped out of the way and flung themselves against the walls. Boldly Seer flexed her legs, rolled over and got onto her feet.

  Standing up she was enormous. She tossed her head backwards and forwards. She flapped her wings. She smacked her lips together. Sparks shot out of her nose and mouth. Smoke filled the air.

  Amy was sheltering on the other side of the cave to the others. The two abandoned silky squares lay in a patch of snow. And the crochet hook. Quickly she picked them up. The knitted fabric was glossy and slippery. It reminded her of the inside of seashells. She slipped everything into her pocket. The pixicle said magic reworked was more powerful. Well. I might just need these, thought Amy. You never know … She went round the dragon to join the others.

  ‘Boldly is so happy-jolly,’ squeaked Squitcher. He was leaping around to avoid the shower of burning sparks and the dragon’s thrashing tail. ‘Thank you so jolly much. Hold still there, Boldly! Be careful!’ He sidled nearer to Copper. ‘You must have food and gift-rewards—’ He stopped. ‘But what rewards? We have nothing here for humans … Oh dear, oh dear … I know! I will allow you to see into my eye-cycle as a reward. This is, in case you don’t know, a finely-wonderful and rare reward.’

  ‘See into your icicles?’ said Amy. ‘Why?’

  ‘No, no, eye-cycles,’ said Squitcher. ‘Come. I’ll show you.’

  Outside the cold made Copper and Questrid start shivering. Boldly Seer had kept the cave very warm and cosy.

  Squitcher led them to the nearerst ice house. He pointed into the garden. ‘That’s an eye-cycle.’

  ‘I thought they were sculptures,’ said Amy.

  ‘You’re very right!’ laughed Squitcher clapping his hands. ‘E-y-e-c-y-c-l-e-s …’ he spelt it out for them. ‘It is arty. And is jolly good prediction machine also. You look through them and you see things.’

  ‘What things?’ Amy was suddenly nervous.

  ‘It depends. Cycles go round and round-a-bout so it could be forward or back,’ said Squitcher. ‘We use the eye-cycles to answer questions.’

  ‘Like fortune tellers?’ said Questrid.

  ‘Yes, you could call us that. Pastune tellers too. They work both ways. I’m thinking it would be jolly useful to be able to see what the Shane Annigan person is doing. And where he has taken the Ralick.’

  ‘Fantastic idea,’ said Copper. ‘Will they do that?’

  ‘Might do … But not now,’ said Squitcher. ‘Too late and not enough light. First, we must get you food and make places for you to sleep and all those things. Humans are too big for fitting into the ice houses, so we will bring everything out to the cave. Please wait.’

  Squitcher soon reappeared with six other pixicles. They brought mattresses and blankets. The mattresses were so small that they needed two each to lie on. The pixicles brought food too. It wasn’t very tasty, being so cold, but it made them feel much better once they’d eaten it.

  The other pixicles were shy and did not stay and talk. Squitcher said goodnight and went back to his ice house. Soon all the lights went out and it was quiet.

  Questrid and Copper laid their mattresses down at the back of the cave. Amy put hers nearer the entrance of the cave where it was cooler. Boldly Seer was curled up like a giant cat against the wall, snoring.

  ‘Listen to her tummy!’ Questrid said. ‘It sounds like a crowd of people are striking matches in there.’

  ‘Are you OK over there, Amy?’ said Copper.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘I hope everyone back home isn’t too worried about us,’ said Questrid.

  ‘They’ll have got Casimir’s message,’ said Copper. ‘They know what we’re doing … I hope Ralick’s all right.’

  Amy stared into the darkness and dug her fingers into the snow beside her. She made a snowball. She punched eyes into it. A mouth. Made a nose.

  She looked out through the mouth of the cave at the black sky. It was dotted with stars. She listened to the dragon’s belly gurgling and bubbling. She listened to her breathing. Perhaps Copper couldn’t sleep either. This would be such a good moment to speak to her, to tell her the truth. In the dark.

  ‘Copper? Copper?’ she called softly.

  But both Copper and Questrid had fallen asleep.

  Amy sighed.

  Something hot fell on her cheek. It was a tear. But it couldn’t be! I don’t weep, she thought. I’m strong. She wiped it away and rubbed her damp nose …

  Her nose. Her face. She’d almost forgotten those awful things the rockgoyle had said. Now she remembered. What if my face is going ugly and spoiling like that rockgoyle told me? she thought. I ha
ven’t seen a mirror for ages. Copper’s too nice to say. Squitcher wouldn’t know … Did Questrid look at me oddly? Maybe I’m getting uglier and uglier and everyone knows what a cheat I am and hates me.

  I wish I’d never come. I wish I’d never seen Granite, or Malachite Mountain or Copper or anything.

  19

  The Eye-Cycles

  Squitcher woke them in the morning. He brought glasses of a delicious red juice and white cake with pink icing. After they had eaten, they went outside.

  All the other pixicles were watching them from the windows or the doors of their houses.

  Every single pixicle was wearing a brightly coloured hat.

  ‘Hats because it’s a great privilege-honour to use the eye-cycles,’ explained Squitcher. He was wearing a sky blue hat with ear flaps. ‘Come on.’

  He led them to his house. There was an eye-cycle in the garden. It was carved from a solid cloudy stack of ice. It was like a totem pole, patterned with faces and animals.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ said Copper. ‘I love the noise it makes when the chimes jangle.’

  ‘Tune,’ Squitcher said. He stroked the eye-cycle proudly. ‘Fortunes and pastunes. Presently this is singing-ringing a pastune. Just what you need, I think.’

  At the height of Copper’s knee – eye level for a pixicle – there was a cross-piece. It was angled through the main pole. This was the bit you looked through, like a telescope.

  ‘No promises,’ said Squitcher, anxiously. ‘Might not be working today for you. Also might not understand what you see. Put your right eye against the hole,’ he said. ‘Close other eye and sort of think about what you want to know.’

  Copper did as he said. ‘Oh, it’s blowing cold air at me!’ She laughed. ‘Can’t see a thing … It’s all dark, no … here it comes … it’s clearing … I’m seeing something!’

  Amy watched anxiously. She bit her lip.

  What if Copper’s pastune showed Amy speaking with Granite? Amy carving horrible gargoyles down in the basement with Aunt Agnes and Uncle John? What if it showed Amy choking on the smell of wood? Or leaning out of the window to eavesdrop on Copper and Questrid?