When we finally left the tunnel and flew into the open air, Ralf circled above the ground once before starting an upward spiral. "Hold on tight!" he shouted.
The air had been pleasant at ground level, but the higher we flew, the colder it became. Although Ralf generated a lot of heat, keeping us warm, the heat didn't reach his wings and snow began to accumulate, weighing him down and slowing our flight. What had started out as a few drifting flakes became a blizzard, obscuring everything around us.
"We're almost there!" Ralf shouted just as I was beginning to think we might be flying into a white void forever. "Shirley's cave is at the top of the mountain." I was grateful that dragons were famous for their sense of direction.
"Why would anyone want to live on the top of a mountain?" I shouted.
"My grandpa says that Shirley moved here to get away from the flies when he retired. It's too cold up here for them. Here we go!" I nearly fell off when Ralf landed with a thump. "Hold on just a little longer. I'll get us inside where it's warm."
The little dragon caught hold of a string blowing wildly in the wind and pulled with all his might. Peering through the falling snow, I saw that the string led into a tiny hole in the rock face of the mountain. Ralf let go of the string, and a door opened, revealing a hole twice as tall as I was when I was human.
Something moved out of Ralf's way when he shuffled through the opening, but I couldn't see what it was until my eyes adjusted. After the glare of the snow, the cave interior seemed dark, making it difficult to see. Dim light came through holes in the cave walls, and the room finally became visible. We were in a cave about the same size as my bedchamber at home. Its rock floor was level, its ceiling too high to see clearly.
I was startled when an old, sway-backed horse wearing a thick wool blanket whinnied and trotted toward us. White with gray stockings, the horse's splayed hooves clacked against the stone when it stepped into the wind to push the door closed. Once the door was shut, the old horse turned and looked at Ralf. "I know you!" said the horse, nudging Ralf with his nose. "You're old Gargle Snort's grandson. What brought you all the way up here?
Your grandpa's all right, isn't he?"
I bit my lip and tried not to laugh. Gargle Snort?
"Grandpa is doing fine," said Ralf, flapping his wings to shake off the snow. "These are my friends Emma and Eadric. They want to ask you a question."
"Your grandpa is dying fast? I'm sorry to hear that. I always liked the old lizard, even if he did have a temper like a ... never mind. You're a young one and shouldn't hear such language. So what brought you all the way up here?"
Ralf glanced at me and rolled his eyes. Then, rising up on his hind legs, he shouted into the horse's ear. "My friends Emma and Eadric want to ask you a question."
"There's no need to shout! So, you brought your friend Amandedric. Another one of those newfangled names? Who's your other friend?"
"You don't understand. One of my friends is Emma, the other is Eadric."
"They each took half the name, huh? Well, that's fine, too."
The little dragon cleared his throat, which was sounding scratchy from yelling. "We're looking for the feather of a horse. Do you have one you could give us?"
"Brother of a Norse? Why would you look here? I was an only child."
"Not Norse, horse! Do you have an old feather that you could give us?"
"Leather? Why would you want my old leather? All I've got are my old saddle and tack, but they wouldn't fit any of you pipsqueaks."
"I didn't mean—" began Ralf.
"I don't understand what's wrong with you young people. First you want one thing, then another. You can't make up your minds, can you? Why, in my day, we knew exactly what we wanted." The old horse yawned, showing us what was left of his yellowed teeth. "I was about to take a nap when I heard you at the door. You wouldn't mind showing yourselves out, would you? My old bones need a lot of rest these days."
"Actually, we were hoping—"
"Don't forget to shut the door behind you," Shirley said, trotting out of the room.
"I'm sorry," Ralf said, turning back to Eadric and me. "I can't seem to make him understand."
"But we don't really need the feather if there aren't any green dragons. We can't reverse the spell if we're missing even one ingredient. Besides, why would we come to Shirley for a feather?" I asked. "I really think we should be getting back." I couldn't figure out what we were doing wasting our time there.
"I thought you knew," said Ralf. "Shirley's great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was Pegasus."
"You mean he has feathered wings under that blanket?" I asked.
"Pretty gray ones."
"Then all we need is one of his feathers!" Eadric said.
Ralf nodded. "If you can get him to give it to you."
"Couldn't we just take one?" asked Eadric. "I doubt he'd miss it."
"Take it without asking?" Ralf sounded shocked at the idea.
"You tried asking, and you saw where that got us."
"That's true," Ralf said, tilting his head to the side as if it helped him think. "Well, maybe we can find a loose one on the floor."
"But what's the point?" I asked.
"We said we weren't going to give up yet, remember? I say we get the feather and then see about the green dragon," said Eadric.
"Fine." I said. "We're here, we may as well."
Ralf carried us to the next room, where he let us off at the door. It was little more than a large stall, with a trough for water, a bucket for grain and a rack for hay. Clean straw covered the stone floor, and the air smelled sweet and fresh.
"How does a horse keep his own stall so clean?" Eadric whispered.
"Magic," answered Ralf. "I've been here with my grandfather a couple of times, and this cave is always like this."
"I could use some magic for Bright Country," said Eadric. "He makes a real mess of his stall."
I peeked through the doorway again. Shirley lay in the middle of the room, stretched out on his side. His eyes were closed, and his deep, even breathing told us that he was asleep. Eadric and I kept our eyes on the old horse as we hopped into the room.
The prickly straw stabbed the bottoms of my feet. Eadric, however, didn't seem to notice the straw and hopped all the way to Shirley's side. The blanket was slack around the horse's belly, so it was easy for Eadric to slip his hand underneath and feel for a loose feather.
I watched him for a moment, then decided that I'd better go help. I was studying the ground, preparing for my next carefully placed step, when I saw something gray partly buried by the gold-colored straw. Stretching out my arm, I pulled out a long, sleek feather. Excited by my find, I whispered, "Eadric!" but he didn't hear me.
I took another step, waving the feather like a flag. Without turning around, Eadric said, "I can't reach his feathers from here," then lifted up the corner of the blanket and slipped underneath. I could see him moving about under the blanket, a frog-sized lump crawling across the horse's side like a mole burrowing in the kitchen garden.
"Eadric," I said, hopping one step closer.
"I can't find any loose ones," he said in a muffled voice. "I'll just pull out one of these."
"No, Eadric, I found—"
The lump under the blanket jerked, and Shirley snorted, opening his eyes partway. He flicked his tail, whipping his hindquarters and narrowly missing the lump that was Eadric. Lifting his head, Shirley looked blearily about. When he didn't see anything, he muttered, "Darn flies," then dropped his head and went back to sleep. The lump moved again, and I held my breath until Eadric tumbled out from under the blanket.
Wearing an enormous grin, he hopped toward me, holding the feather high. He stopped when he saw my feather. His grin disappeared.
"Great," I said, wishing I could put the grin back on his face. "We'll keep my feather in case we ever need another one."
When we finally set out, sitting on the feathers so we wouldn't lose them, the wind was blowing just as fiercely as before. The snowfall was so heavy that I couldn't see the back of Ralf's head. Comfortable from the dragon's body heat, I closed my eyes and let myself relax against Eadric. I was almost asleep when he shouted to Ralf, "How did the grandson of Pegasus get a name like Shirley?"
"It's a nickname, really," said Ralf. "Even when he was too young to fly, he was so surefooted that he could go just about anywhere. The name stuck, and—"
I sat up a little straighter. "You mean he's called Surely, S-U-R-E-L-Y?"
"Of course. What did you think I said?"
"You don't want to know." I chuckled and closed my eyes again.
"What about your name, Ralf?" said Eadric. "How did you get a name like that if your grandfather is called Gargle Snort?"
"I still have my baby name, even though I haven't been a baby for a couple of years now. I'll get to choose my real name when I grow up. I want a strong name like my hero Flash Red-Snout. My mother's name is Flame Snorter, but everybody calls her Snorty. She's known for how far she can belch flames. My father is Grumble Belly because his belly grumbles before he breathes fire. I haven't decided on my name yet."
"If I had to choose my own name, I think I'd want it to have something to do with bravery," said Eadric. "Yours could be about your magic, Emma."
"Are you kidding? I'd probably be called Fumble Fingers or Clumsy Toes. Even if it were about my magic, it probably wouldn't be very complimentary. My magic still needs a lot of work."
"I'm sorry I couldn't find a green dragon for you," said Ralf. "I owe you for saving my life."
I patted the dragon's shoulder. "Don't worry. You did your best, and that's all anyone can ask."
Ralf turned his head and peered at me with one eye. "What did you need from the green dragon, anyway?"
"Nothing much," I said. "Just some breath."
"I have an idea. How would you like to come with me to the Dragon Olympics?" asked Ralf. "My mother is entered in the distance flame-belching contest tonight."
I scratched my head with my toe. "Distance flame-belching? We appreciate the offer, but it doesn't sound like the kind of place that would be safe for frogs. Frog skin is kind of tender, and those flames—"
"Don't worry. The salve I gave you in my grandpa's cave will protect you."
"That's a great offer, but—" said Eadric.
Ralf looked so eager. "All the dragons will be at the Olympics. If any green dragons exist, they'll be there."
"But your grandfather said—" I began.
"It's worth a try, isn't it?" asked Ralf.
He was right. If there was even the smallest chance that we might be able to get the last ingredient, then we'd have to go. It was already Friday afternoon, and we had to have everything before dawn the next day. "Of course we'll go with you," I said. "Won't we, Eadric?"
Eadric nodded, although his mouth was set in a thin line and his eyes looked uneasy. "Thanks for inviting us, Ralf," he said.