Of Disappearances and Dragons - Complete

Part 9

The three of them set off again early next morning. It seemed, if possible, that both Jarrold and Eila were even chattier first thing in the morning. Trailing behind them Finn added his own occasional comments but for the most part was happy to listen to their conversation and marvel slightly at the range of topics they covered in a short period of time.

They'd been walking for about an hour and come across no other people when Finn noticed a red shape in the distance coming towards them fast. After a moment Jarrold noticed it too.

"Is that the Knight from yesterday?"

"I think so," replied Finn. "And it doesn't look like he had much luck against the dragon."

As the figure approached they saw that it was indeed the Knight from the day before. On seeing them he showed no signs of slowing down but began shouting, "Go back! Turn around! Dragons! Go back! The island is overrun with dragons!"

Finn, Jarrold and Eila only just had time to jump out of his way, and Finn almost ended up in the river, as the Knight galloped towards them. Up close he didn't have any obvious injuries; he was a bit soot stained but nothing more and yet he was clearly panicked, spurring the horse ever faster. The horse barely even snarled at Jarrold, and then they were past, riding off into the distance with one last "Run!"

The three companions watched him for a moment and then turned back to the direction he'd come from and waited. When no pack of flaming dragons appeared on the horizon Finn shrugged and carried on walking, quickly followed by Jarrold and Eila.

As they continued on through the morning the hills that edged the valley began to close in on them until they were walking through a ravine so narrow they barely had room to walk three abreast beside the river. The steep walls were covered in a living carpet of green, broken here and there by slithers of rock or brilliant white waterfalls gushing down to join the river. And the river itself had transformed from the shallow, lazily moving trickle it had been when Finn had first found it to a wide, rushing force of water that shone and glittered in the sunlight.

Eila stopped suddenly. "You two go on ahead. I'll catch you up in a minute."

They both eyed her curiously.

"Why?"

"What's the matter?"

Shifting slightly from foot to foot Eila said, "Nothing. I just need a minute."

Realisation grew on Jarrold's face. "Again?" he asked slightly incredulously.

"It's all the running water," she replied, staring up at him defiantly even as a blush grew in her cheeks.

Finn cleared his throat awkwardly and waved a hand in the direction of the path. "We'll just, er, carry on a little way."

They walked quickly along the path, round the bend and out of sight and then went a little bit further just to be safe.

"Hello there," called a voice off to their right.

The wall here was suddenly bare rock and it had a large alcove cut out of it about halfway up. There were more streams of water cascading down the back walls to join the River Malley. Right in the middle of the alcove was a marble statue of a man surrounded by his five female attendants and it was here, Finn quickly realised, that the voice had come from.

The statue of the man raised his hand and repeated his greeting. In fact all the figures were moving as the women went about pouring him a drink or rubbing his feet or shoulders.

Finn and Jarrold both gaped at the sight in shock. The man laughed, a strange, grating sound and beckoned them up.

"Friends," he cried. "Come, join us. We long for travellers to share their news of the outside world."

Finn glanced down at Jarrold who shrugged and said, "Why not?"

So Finn followed Jarrold up the roughly hewn staircase to the alcove.

"Welcome," said the marble man. "Welcome. It's far too rare that we get visitors coming this way. Tell us anything, tell us everything."

Of course Jarrold needed no further invitation to start talking but Finn was too distracted to pay attention to what he was saying. The whole situation seemed strange, even from what he knew of Arys Isle. The floor of the alcove was covered in a large oval of marble and Finn noticed that although the figures were moving around they never once stepped off of it. And with every step closer to them that he took it got harder and harder to move, as if he was wading through water or mud. Even his thoughts seemed to grow sluggish.

But perhaps it was his imagination. Jarrold didn't seem affected at all. As he reached the top of the plateau he saw that there was a sixth female figure up there, further back in the shadows, her features drawn in despair. She was also moving but much slower than the others, as if every move she made was also an immense struggle. When her eyes met Finn's she began shaking her head, her mouth open in a silent cry.

He stared at her, unable to think and then looked back at Jarrold. Still talking away he was now at the edge of the marble plinth and one of the figures was just inches away from him holding out her hand.

Jarrold began to raise his hand to take hers and suddenly Finn knew that he couldn't let him touch the statue. With a wordless cry he forced himself to move faster. He needed to get close enough to Jarrold to pull him back out of their reach and then off this plateau and away from the statue.

But moments before he got his arms around Jarrold, Jarrold took the statue's hand in his.