“You mean you don’t know what a zoo is? Oh, I’ll explain later,” muttered Sorrel. “Although come to think of it, they’re more likely to stuff us. Bother, it’s going to take me hours to wash this filth off your scales.”
Firedrake was swimming like a silvery snake along the dirty canal, under bridges, past the gray walls of buildings. Sorrel kept glancing uneasily at the sky, but there was no sign yet of the treacherous sun.
“There!” the brownie suddenly whispered, pointing to a tall building. The water of the canal lapped its windowless brick walls. “See that hatch? If you make yourself as thin as you can you might fit through. Swim over there. I’ll sniff around a bit.”
The dragon cautiously let himself drift toward the wall. A large loading hatch just above water level gaped open. Its decaying wooden door hung loose from the hinges. With one bound Sorrel jumped off Firedrake’s back, got a handhold on the roughcast wall, and put her head through the opening, snuffling.
“Seems okay,” she whispered. “There hasn’t been a human being in here for years. Nothing but mouse droppings and spiders. Come on.”
In a flash, she had disappeared into the dark. Firedrake hauled himself out of the water, shook his scaly body, and forced it through the hatch. He looked curiously around him at this structure, the work of human hands. He had never been inside a building before, and he didn’t like it. Large wooden crates and rotting cardboard cartons were stacked by the damp walls. Sorrel sniffed everything with interest, but she couldn’t pick up the scent of anything edible.
Wearily Firedrake dropped to the floor in front of the hatch and looked out. This was the first time he had made such a long flight. His wings ached, and the city was full of frightening sounds and smells. The dragon sighed.
“What’s the matter?” Sorrel sat down between his paws. “Oh, I see. Who’s homesick now, then?” She opened her backpack, took out a handful of mushrooms, and held them under his nose. “Here, get a noseful of these. They’ll drive the stink of this place out of your nostrils. I expect our friend the rat would like it just fine here, but you and I had better get out as soon as we can.” She patted Firedrake’s dirty scales comfortingly. “Get some sleep now. I’ll have a bit of a nap, too, and then I’ll be off to look for Rat’s cousin.”
Firedrake nodded. His eyes closed. When he heard Sorrel singing softly to herself, it was almost like being back in his cave. His tired limbs relaxed. Sleep was laying soft, soothing fingers on him … when Sorrel suddenly jumped up.
“There’s something in here!” she hissed.
Firedrake raised his head and looked around. “Where?” he asked.
“Behind those crates!” whispered Sorrel. “You stay here.” She crept toward a stack of crates that towered to the ceiling. Firedrake pricked up his ears. Now he could hear it, too: a rustling, a scraping of feet. The dragon raised himself.
“Come on out!” said Sorrel. “Come out, whatever you are!”
For a moment all was quiet. Very quiet. Except for the noises of the big city drifting in from outside.
“Come on out!” spat Sorrel again. “Or do I have to come and fetch you?”
There was some more rustling, and then a human boy crawled out from among the crates. Sorrel retreated in alarm. When the boy rose to his feet he was a good deal taller than she was. He stared incredulously at the brownie girl. And then he saw the dragon.
Firedrake’s scales still shone like silver in spite of the canal water, and in this small space he seemed enormous. Neck bent, he was gazing down at the boy in astonishment.
The dragon had never seen a human being at close quarters before. From everything that Rat and Sorrel had told him, he had imagined them as looking different — very different.
“He doesn’t smell of humans at all!” Sorrel growled. She had recovered from her fright and was inspecting the boy suspiciously, although from a safe distance. “He stinks of mice,” she added. “That’s why I didn’t smell him. Yes, that’ll be it.”
The boy took no notice of her. He raised his hand — a bare hand with no fur growing on it — and pointed at Firedrake. “It’s a dragon!” he whispered. “A real, live dragon.”
He gave Firedrake an uncertain smile.
The dragon cautiously stretched out his long neck toward the boy and sniffed. Sorrel was right. He did smell of mouse droppings, but there was something else as well. A strange smell, the same smell that hung in the air outside — the smell of human beings.
“Of course it’s a dragon,” said Sorrel crossly. “And what are you?”
The boy turned to look at her in surprise. “Oh, wow!” he exclaimed. “You’re quite something, too! Are you an extraterrestrial?”
Sorrel proudly stroked her silky coat. “I’m a brownie. Can’t you see that?”
“A what?”
“A brownie!” repeated Sorrel impatiently. “Typical. You humans may be able to tell a cat from a dog, but that’s about all.”
“You look like a giant squirrel,” said the boy, grinning.
“Very funny!” spat Sorrel. “What are you doing here, anyway? A little titch like you isn’t usually out and about on his own.”
The grin vanished from the boy’s face as if Sorrel had wiped it away. “A thingummy-whatsit like you isn’t usually out and about here, either,” he pointed out. “If you must know, I live here.”
“Here?” Sorrel looked around, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, here.” The boy glared at her. “For now, anyway. But if you like,” he added, looking at the dragon, “if you like you can stay here for the time being.”
“Thank you,” said Firedrake. “That’s extremely kind of you. What’s your name?”
The boy awkwardly pushed his hair back from his forehead. “My name’s Ben. What about you?”
“This,” said the dragon, nuzzling Sorrel gently in the stomach, “is Sorrel. And I am Firedrake.”
“Firedrake. That’s a good name.” Ben put out his hand tentatively to stroke the dragon’s neck, as if he feared Firedrake would disappear the moment he was touched.
Casting the boy a suspicious glance, Sorrel went over to the hatch and looked out. “Time to go and look for that rat,” she said. “You — human — can you tell me where the dockland warehouses are?”
Ben nodded. “Less than ten minutes’ walk from here. But how are you going to get there without being captured or stuffed and put on display in a museum?”
“You can leave that to me,” growled Sorrel.
Firedrake put his head between the two of them, looking anxious. “You mean it’s dangerous for her?” he asked the boy.
Ben nodded. “Of course. Well, looking the way she does I bet she won’t get ten meters from here. The first little old lady to spot her will call the police.”
“Police?” asked Firedrake, baffled. “What kind of thing is police?”
“I know what the police are,” muttered Sorrel. “But I have to reach those warehouses, so it’s just too bad.” She sat down and was about to let herself drop into the dirty canal water when Ben grasped her by the arm.