Beast Quest #1: Ferno the Fire Dragon Read online

  BEAST QUEST

  BOOK ONE

  FERNO

  THE FIRE DRAGON

  ADAM BLADE

  ILLUSTRATED BY EZRA TUCKER

  For Jamie Morgan

  With thanks to Stephen Cole

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE: QUEST’S END

  CHAPTER ONE: THE MYSTERIOUS FIRE

  CHAPTER TWO: A REAL QUEST

  CHAPTER THREE: WHISPERS OF BEASTS

  CHAPTER FOUR: THE COURT OF THE KING

  CHAPTER FIVE: SECRET IN THE FIRE

  CHAPTER SIX: GATHERING STORM

  CHAPTER SEVEN: THE FOREST OF FEAR

  CHAPTER EIGHT: DAWN OF THE DRAGON

  CHAPTER NINE: FINAL COMBAT

  CHAPTER TEN: THE BEGINNING

  Copyright

  PROLOGUE

  QUEST’S END

  CALDOR THE BRAVE STOOD AT THE FOOT OF the misty mountain. The knight’s bronze armor gleamed in the pale morning sunlight. He gripped a heavy sword.

  Turning to his squire, Robin, he used his weapon to point up the mountainside. “I’ll climb above the mist,” Caldor told the boy. “The dragon is close by. I can feel it. I just need to get above the mist so that I can see it. For the sake of our kingdom, it must be stopped!”

  “Good luck, sir,” Robin said in a shaky voice, as the knight turned to climb up the smooth, dark slope of the mountain. Caldor struggled to keep his footing on the overlapping plates of rock. They were as slippery as glass, but the knight was determined, and slowly but surely made his way up the mountain. He was soon lost from sight, swallowed by the eerie mist. Robin had never seen a mountainside like this before. With his master gone, he noticed how quiet it was. He shivered, although the air was warm.

  Suddenly, the mountain started to shake.

  Robin could feel the vibrations traveling through his feet and up his legs. He stumbled to one side and a huge shudder threw him to the ground, knocking his head so badly that his teeth clattered. There was a metallic taste in his mouth and he put a hand to his lips. Blood! What was happening? “Caldor!” Robin yelled, scrambling to his feet as the rocks shifted beneath him. “Come back!” But there was no way he could be heard above the grinding screeches that filled the air. The whole mountain shuddered and Robin froze. Was it about to come crashing down?

  Robin looked up and gasped in disbelief. Two huge rocks high above him started to move. They stretched out slowly, their razor-sharp edges catching the sunlight. Robin flinched as they swiped through the air like giant ax heads.

  Rolling out of the way, he glimpsed Caldor high above him, clinging to the dark slope of the mountain. The spiked head of a huge beast reared up behind the knight. Its face was the same color as the slippery stones of the mountain. Its eyes glinted with dark fire.

  “Come down, Caldor!” Robin yelled desperately. It all made sudden, horrible sense. The dragon wasn’t near the mountain — it was the mountain! And Caldor was barely holding on to the monster’s neck! “Caldor!” Robin yelled again. But a terrifying roar drowned out Robin’s words. He stumbled to his feet, his mouth open in shock.

  Glancing down, Robin realized that his own situation was nearly as dangerous as Caldor’s. He was standing on the dragon’s tail! He wanted to run, but he was frozen with fear. And as he looked up at Caldor, he knew he could not abandon his knight. Robin could only stare in disbelief as the dragon’s wings unfolded overhead, stretching out to beat the air in a deadly rhythm.

  “It’s taking off!” he shouted. “Caldor, quick —”

  “Get back, Robin!” called Caldor, still desperately clutching the creature’s neck. “Go to the city. Warn King Hugo that I have failed in my quest. Run!”

  Robin had no chance to run. The dragon flicked its tail and sent him flying through the air. He hit the ground, shaking and gasping for breath, as the terrifying beast rose up into the air and disappeared into the mist, taking Caldor with him.

  For a moment, Caldor’s screams filled Robin’s ears. Then, to his horrified eyes, an empty piece of armor clattered to the ground beside him, scorched and smoking.

  The echoes of Caldor’s screams hung in the air. Then they, too, were gone.

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE MYSTERIOUS FIRE

  TOM STARED HARD AT HIS ENEMY. “SURRENDER, villain!” he cried, waving his sword above his head. “Surrender, or taste my blade!”

  The sword was only a poker, and his enemy was a sack of hay hanging from a tree in the heart of the wood. But then, Tom was not a knight. He was training to be a blacksmith. The closest he came to thrilling quests was when he ran errands for his uncle Henry, who worked the village forge.

  Today, Tom was taking a sack of newly mended tools to Farmer Gretlin. Along the way, he had stopped in the forest to practice his sword-fighting moves on the dummy he had made a few weeks ago. He trained whenever he could. If he ever had the chance to have a real sword fight, he’d be ready!

  Tom gave the target a firm blow with the poker. “One day I’ll be the finest swordsman in all of the kingdom of Avantia,” he announced. “Even better than my father, Taladon the Swift!”

  Tom had heard many people in the village praise Taladon’s swordsmanship. But he had never seen it for himself. Tom’s mother had died of a fever when he was just a baby. That same day, his father had left on a mysterious quest and never returned. As Head of Errinel village and Tom’s closest relative, Uncle Henry had announced that he and his wife, Maria, would raise him as their own son.

  Tom was grateful to his uncle and trained hard as a blacksmith’s apprentice. But he often dreamed of leaving Errinel, just as his father had. He wanted to taste adventure for real — dreams just weren’t enough anymore. But most of all, he wanted to find his father and ask him why he had left.

  Tom shoved the poker back into the sack of tools. “One day I’ll know the truth,” he swore.

  Summer was giving way to autumn, and Tom shivered as he walked beneath the shadows cast by the trees’ heavy branches. It was hard-going along the overgrown forest path. Branches tore at Tom’s clothes and scratched his face. Stumbling over tree roots, Tom struggled on. As he neared the edge of the woods, he smelled something strange.

  Smoke! he thought as the sharp smell caught at the back of his throat.

  He stopped and looked around. Through the trees to his left he could hear a faint crackling as a wave of warm air hit him.

  Fire!

  Tom began to push his way through the trees. Heart pounding, he forced his way through a thicket and burst into the field. The golden wheat had been burned to black stubble. A thin veil of smoke hung in the air, small flames still licked at the edges of the field. Tom stared in horror. What had happened?

  A shadow fell over him. Tom looked up and blinked. For a second he thought he saw a dark, fleeting shape disappear behind a hill in the distance. Had his eyes been playing tricks on him?

  “Who’s there?”

  Through the smoke, Tom saw a man stamping across the field. Forgetting the shadow, he hurried forward to meet him.

  “Did you come through the woods?” Gretlin demanded. “Did you see anyone who could have done this?”

  Tom shook his head. “No one! I didn’t see a soul in the woods.”

  “There’s evil at work here,” said Gretlin, his eyes flashing angrily. “Only ten minutes ago, this wheat was as tall as your shoulders. I was working in the barn when I heard a strange noise, like a fierce wind. I rushed outside to find … this.” Gretlin stared at the blackened field. “Mark my words — no ordinary fire did this. Just like no ordinary fire took John Blake’s horses.”

  A shiver of fear we
nt through Tom. John Blake lived at the edge of Errinel, and two weeks ago he had lost three of his horses during the night. Their bones were found the next day, in a smoking pit at the foot of the valley — roasted and picked clean. “The old ones are talking in the village,” said Gretlin, shaking his head. “They say dark forces are gathering… .”

  Tom looked around at the burned field and felt a wave of anger. Someone needed to stop this. If only he was older! I’d do it, he thought. I’d stop things like this happening in our kingdom.

  “Go back to the forge, Tom,” Gretlin said. “Tell your uncle what’s happened here! I’m worried that Errinel is cursed — and maybe all of us along with it!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  A REAL QUEST

  THE SUN HOVERED LOW AND PINK ABOVE THE distant hills. Villagers crowded into the market square, jostling for space. Tom had never seen the square so full of people, and they just seemed to keep coming. Tom had told his uncle Henry about the strange fire, and Henry had decided to call an emergency meeting of the whole village. Nothing like this had ever happened in Errinel before, and Tom couldn’t ignore the hard knot of nervousness in his stomach. From the low murmurs coming from the crowd, he could tell that everyone else was on edge, too.

  Uncle Henry stood on a wooden bench in front of the villagers. Tom waited off to the side with his aunt Maria. She looked tired and worried.

  “This meeting is open,” Uncle Henry announced. “Now, I’ve heard plenty of rumors, but let’s try to deal with facts.”

  “The troubles get worse each day!” called John Blake. “That’s a fact!”

  “Have you seen the river?” a woman asked. “It’s running so low that we will soon run out of drinking water.”

  “We’re cursed!” an old man shouted. “I don’t believe in curses,” said Uncle Henry firmly. “But it is clear that our village needs aid. Someone must go to the king and request help, while the rest of us try to figure out why this is happening.”

  Tom smiled. He could picture himself traveling to the city to ask for help and save his village. It was the opportunity he had been waiting for! A real adventure! He stepped forward. “I’ll go to the palace.”

  There were murmurs of astonishment from the crowd and a few chuckles.

  “Trust the fate of our village to a boy? Ha!”

  Uncle Henry spoke quietly. “No, Tom. You’re too young to take such a trip on your own. I will go as Head of Errinel.”

  Suddenly, a young, ragged boy, smeared in soot, pushed through the crowd. It was Adam from nearby Dreen Farm.

  “Help!” gasped Adam. “Our hay barn is on fire!”

  “We’re all cursed!” wailed a woman.

  “Gretlin! John! Take twenty men and fetch water from the river!” roared Henry. “The rest of you bring spades — if we can’t quench the fire we’ll bury it in mud. Quickly!”

  Aunt Maria looked at Uncle Henry as the crowd rushed to obey. “These people need you here as their leader,” she said quietly.

  “You can’t go!” added Tom. “And who else can be spared? Harvest is the busiest time of year for the whole village.”

  Uncle Henry turned to Tom. “Very well. You’re young and fit, and I have to let you go out into the world sooner or later. You may go to the king’s palace. But you must leave first thing tomorrow!”

  Tom hugged his uncle. “I won’t let you down,” he swore, turning to hug Aunt Maria as well. His heart was doing somersaults. He couldn’t believe it. Tomorrow he was setting off for the palace on a real quest — a chance for adventure at last!

  CHAPTER THREE

  WHISPERS OF BEASTS

  IT WAS STILL DARK WHEN TOM BEGAN HIS journey. And as the sun rose, he saw that Errinel wasn’t the only place in trouble. He passed fields and meadows that lay black and dead. Dry ditches traced paths where streams had once flowed.

  On and on Tom walked, ignoring his tired muscles and aching feet. He was determined to get to the city and talk to the king! As he got closer to the high city walls, other people joined him on the dusty road.

  Men cantered by on horseback. Families walked beside donkeys weighed down with packs. He could hear them muttering to one another. One farmer was selling sheep at the market; another hoped to get a good price for his oats and barley. But many of the weary travelers seemed to be fleeing famine and danger and, just like Tom, were heading to the palace to ask for help. Tom started to walk faster.

  The city gates were open. As Tom passed through them he felt a new surge of energy. He was here at last!

  He pushed his way through the narrow, crooked streets. There were tall wooden houses on each side of him and traders were standing by stalls, calling out to people to come and buy their wares. The air was muggy, the smell of cooking mingling with the market animals and the people jostling through the crowded street. Chickens squawked in cages, goats bleated loudly, and mangy dogs sniffed around the stalls for scraps of food.

  Tom quickly jumped aside as someone trotted by on a horse. It was so different from his village where everyone knew one another and stopped to say hello. Here, no one even looked at him.

  Tom didn’t care, though. He had one aim — and that was to get to the palace! He could see it, towering over all the other buildings at the center of the city. The sun shone on its soaring purple spires and domes of sea-green glass.

  But as he reached the palace courtyard, Tom found that his way was blocked by a crowd of people. There was a long line, and it was moving very slowly toward the King’s Clerk — a tubby little man sitting behind a large table, scratching on paper with the inky stalk of a feather. He was talking to a ragged old man who seemed close to exhaustion.

  “Now then,” said the Clerk primly. “Where are you from?”

  “We’re doomed,” gasped the ragged man. “If the king will not help —”

  “Sorry, I’m a little deaf,” the Clerk apologized. “What did you say?”

  The ragged man groaned. “I said, we’re doomed!”

  “Ah, you’re from the village of Weirdoom,” said the Clerk, carefully writing this down.

  “Where’s that?”

  “No, no,” said the ragged man impatiently, “I mean, we’re all doomed!”

  “The village of Wirraldoom,” the Clerk corrected himself, crossing out his first entry.

  “Oh, this is hopeless!” Tom said. “At this rate, I’ll be here till next Tuesday!”

  “I don’t think we have that much time,” said a stout man with a beard down to his knees. “In the West we’ve been hit by tidal waves. We need help to build sea barriers!”

  “There are terrible blizzards in the North,” said an old woman. “The whole kingdom is in danger! And mark my words — the Beasts have done this.”

  “The Beasts?” scoffed the stout man. “You must be joking!”

  “Joking, am I?” The old woman glared at him. Her skin was lined and pale like parchment, but her eyes were a fierce blue. “It’s them, I tell you!”

  Tom frowned. Like every other child in the kingdom, he had heard tales of the Beasts. They were strange creatures, dragons and sea serpents, said to dwell in the darkest corners of Avantia — though no one had ever seen them. “The Beasts are only make-believe,” Tom protested. “Stories to scare little kids.”

  The old woman looked at him. “If no one believes in the Beasts, how will they ever be stopped?”

  “Well, I never heard any tales of them causing droughts or floods,” Tom insisted, turning away from her.

  “Something has happened,” she said. “Something to turn them against us and destroy our land. Yes, something evil has disturbed the Beasts this time… .”

  “What?” Tom spun back around. But the old woman had gone. “Did you see her?” Tom stared at his neighbors, baffled. “Where did she go?”

  “Who cares?” said the stout man. “It’s one less person in line.”

  Tom fell silent. He found himself thinking of the strange shadow he had glimpsed in Gretlin’s field. Could i
t have been cast by a Beast? He suddenly realized that fires as big as the one at Gretlin’s wheat field did not happen naturally … something had started that fire. Something huge.

  Suddenly, Tom felt another shadow fall over him. He looked up but found only storm clouds blowing in swiftly over the city.

  Anything might be lurking up above the clouds. Anything at all.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE COURT OF THE KING

  TOM MADE UP HIS MIND. WAITING WAS GETTING him nowhere. If he even made it to the front of the line, his complaint would be one of hundreds. He’d come to ask the king for help and that was exactly what he was going to do — even if it meant sneaking into the palace! He struggled through the crowds and out of the courtyard.

  The pale light of the moon shone down on Tom. He started to circle the palace. “What I need is an open window,” he muttered under his breath. “Or an unlocked door.”

  Guards were posted all the way around the palace walls. By the time Tom reached the eastern gateway, manned by two guards, he didn’t feel so sure of himself. Perhaps lots of people have tried to see the king, he thought, moving farther into the shadows. Maybe they’ve been locked up in the dungeons. …

  Suddenly, there was the sound of running footsteps. A young, ragged lad stumbled out of the night toward the palace.

  “Open the gates!” the boy shouted hoarsely. He was around Tom’s age, caked in dirt. He clutched a piece of armor in one hand and a parchment scroll in the other. “I bring word from Sir Caldor. I must see the king!”

  To Tom’s surprise, the guards opened the gates and then rushed to help the boy, leaving the gates wide open.

  This is it! Tom thought.

  He sprinted over and ducked inside behind the guards’ backs.

  “Not so fast, boy,” said a voice behind him. Heart pounding, Tom looked back. A guard was moving toward him, crossbow aimed. Tom had to think quickly. He was dirty, tired, and hungry from days of travel. He didn’t look like he belonged in the palace at all! But he had to take a chance.