An old man with a short white beard stood waiting for them as the rug came in to land. He was wearing a brown tweed jacket with many bulging pockets, tweed knickerbockers, very well polished shoes, a riding helmet, and a stern expression. A telescope was tucked firmly under his left arm.
Spoiler gave a frightened squeak and pulled his bonnet frills more closely around his face.
‘Oh, my lungs and liver!’ Conker muttered. ‘It’s that old nuisance Whitebeard! He can’t stand Freda and me.’
‘The feeling is mutual,’ Freda said sourly.
‘Spoiler stole his wallet, once,’ Leo whispered. ‘And he thought Mimi and I were Spoiler’s gang. What if he recognises us?’
‘We’ll knock him down and make a run for it,’ Freda said out of the corner of her beak. ‘Come on, before he gets suspicious.’
The old man watched, frowning, as the quest team and Spoiler scrambled awkwardly off the rug. His mouth tightened slightly as he noted Conker’s black eye and Bertha’s bruises, but he made no comment.
‘Hello, Whitebeard,’ Conker said without enthusiasm.
‘Conker!’ replied the old man. He inclined his head in a short nod, turning with stiff politeness to include the rest of the team in his greeting and clearly failing to recognise Spoiler. Leo concentrated on not wrinkling his nose. The smell of Dragon’s Bane wafting from the tweed jacket was almost overpowering.
Whitebeard stepped up to the rug and inspected it carefully. The rug hovered rigidly at attention.
‘Breadcrumbs!’ the old man snapped. ‘You’re a disgrace, rug! Clean yourself!’
The rug shook itself violently, then returned to attention. Whitebeard inspected it again, then, apparently satisfied, climbed on and sat cross-legged in the exact centre with his telescope over his knees.
‘I trust your mission was successful?’ he asked Conker abruptly.
‘It isn’t over yet,’ Conker said.
The old man rumbled in his throat. ‘I have every confidence,’ he said, looking straight ahead. ‘My young granddaughters – the twins – tell me that your team’s recent performance in Hobnob was outstanding.’
Conker’s mouth fell open.
Whitebeard rumbled in his throat again. ‘Nothing to report here, except that our coast witch, Crabclaw, has been hanging around making a nuisance of herself,’ he said gruffly. ‘She tried to use the Gap, but I wanted to keep it clear for you, so I told her it had been reserved for the war effort and sent her off with a flea in her ear.’
Spoiler gave a muffled whimper, which he tried to turn into a cough.
‘Well, I’d better be off,’ said Whitebeard. ‘Have to make up for lost time. Good luck to you! Rug, patrol pattern 3A, on the double!’
The rug smartly turned up its fringe in what appeared to be a salute. Then it rose rapidly into the air and soared away, with the old man sitting bolt upright on its perfectly level surface.
‘A compliment from Whitebeard!’ Freda muttered to Conker. ‘Now I’ve heard everything!’
‘Yes,’ said Conker, looking rather dazed. ‘And there he goes, risking his life patrolling the skies without a quiver. It just goes to show you never know who your friends are until the chips are down. Right, Freda?’
‘Up to a point,’ Freda said.
‘He’s certainly got that rug very well trained!’ cried Bertha, watching the rug’s progress with admiration.
‘I liked it better the way it was before,’ Mimi said.
You would, Leo thought, then smiled wryly as he admitted to himself that if he was honest, he liked the rug as it had been before, as well. Well disciplined, it was no doubt safer and more useful, but it was also far less interesting.
‘Master Whitebeard was very brave standing up to that witch, as well,’ chattered Bertha, as Conker led the way to the Gap. ‘Lawks-a-daisy, she could have put some dreadful curse on him!’
‘She wouldn’t have dared,’ said Freda. ‘Whitebeard’s President of the town defence committee, and the committee pays her wages.’
They passed through the Gap without incident and very soon found themselves pushing through the pink door in the corner of Brewer’s back room.
‘All right, Leo?’ Conker asked over his shoulder.
‘Fine,’ Leo mumbled. And it was true that he didn’t feel quite as bad as he usually did after going through a Gap. It could have been because he’d tried keeping his eyes shut. Or, he thought gloomily, maybe he was finally getting used to this strange way of travelling – getting used to it just when, maybe, Gaps, and Rondo itself, wouldn’t be part of his life for much longer. If the Blue Queen completed the Great Potion…
Brewer was standing behind his counter gloating over the contents of his loaded till when the quest team crowded through the knobbly brown curtain into the shop. He jumped and pushed the till drawer shut with a bang.
‘You again!’ he muttered, peering at the newcomers through his thick spectacles.
‘You’ve been doing well, Brewer,’ Conker sneered. ‘Been selling plenty of Dragon’s Bane, have you?’
‘Sold out,’ said Brewer, showing his yellow, rabbity teeth in a satisfied smile. ‘I’ve shut up shop until I’ve brewed some more. No point in staying open – Dragon’s Bane is all folk want at present. Now, will you please leave? I’m very busy.’
Mimi whispered urgently in Conker’s ear. Conker thought for a moment, then nodded.
‘Before we go, Brewer,’ he said in a very falsely friendly voice, ‘I’m in the market for some dragon’s heart. Can you help me with that?’
Brewer rubbed his bony hand across his mouth. ‘Dragon’s heart is illegal,’ he said, his eyes sliding furtively from one team member to the other.
‘Oh, yes, well, strictly it is,’ said Conker blandly. ‘But we’re both men of the world, Brewer. I mean, if it’s old stock, where’s the harm? And even if it’s new stock – well, dragons do die of natural causes, don’t they?’
‘So I argued when that stupid law came in,’ Brewer complained.’ “There’s a huge demand,” I said, “and if a person going about his lawful business happens to come upon a dead dragon, well, it would be a crying shame to let its heart go to waste.” But no one would listen. They thought I was only interested in making a profit.’
‘Funny that,’ Freda muttered.
Brewer looked defensive. ‘There’s a lot of work involved in preserving dragon’s heart,’ he said in injured tones. ‘And the cream that results is nothing short of miraculous as a cure for illness, or to supply a quick burst of extra strength when extra strength is needed. Naturally it was expensive. Naturally it was sold in very small jars. What did people expect?’
‘Do you mean that dragon’s heart has to be made into a cream – that it can’t be used fresh, Master Brewer?’ Leo burst out, feeling a sudden flicker of hope.
Brewer peered at him curiously, then glanced around at Conker and the others, who had become very still. ‘No, no, no, I don’t mean any such thing,’ he said. ‘It’s better fresh, if anything.’
A sigh ran around the room. Brewer adjusted his glasses.
‘Still,’ he said slowly, ‘fresh heart doesn’t keep at all well, so most people use it dried, or preserved as a cream – or they did, when it was still available. It’s rare as hen’s teeth now. You can’t get it anywhere. Not that I’d sell it, naturally, even if I had some – which I don’t.’
There was something about the way he said this that made Leo certain he was lying.
Conker obviously felt the same way. He leaned aggressively across the counter and scowled. ‘Listen here, Brewer –’ he began.
‘Don’t you threaten me!’ snapped Brewer, taking a quick step back. ‘You lay a hand on me and I’ll tell Begood you’ve been trying to buy a banned substance!’ He glowered at the team resentfully. ‘What’s going on?’ he demanded. ‘Why is everyone so interested in dragon’s heart this morning? It doesn’t repel dragons. It attracts them! First Princess Pretty’s in here begging me for it, then –’
‘Princess Pretty?’ Conker bellowed. ‘Asking for dragon’s heart? This morning?’
Brewer nodded. He looked around at his visitors’ startled faces, clearly very satisfied with the effect of his announcement. ‘I’d heard she’d been abducted by the dragon, but it turns out that was all eyewash – or else the dragon dropped her,’ he said. ‘She didn’t look quite herself, I must admit. She had no shoes on, for one thing, and her eyes looked funny – too many late nights, I suppose – but it was her, all right.’
‘You wouldn’t know Princess Pretty if you fell over her,’ snarled Conker, rallying a little.
Brewer drew himself up. ‘I certainly would!’ he retorted. ‘It’s not the first time she’s been in my shop, you know.’ He lowered his voice, looked around as if checking for eavesdroppers, and tapped the side of his nose. ‘Between you and me and the doorknob, she came in a year ago to buy a love potion.’
‘So that’s how she got that poor prawn Claude to marry her,’ said Freda.
Brewer winked. ‘Yes, well, being the oldest of the princesses, naturally she was supposed to be the first to get married and live happily ever after. But her bad temper used to scare all the handsome princes off, and for a while it looked as if the next sister, Sweet, was going to beat her to it. Princess Sweet agrees with everything anyone else says, so naturally she’s far more popular.’
‘Brewer!’ Conker said, tearing at his beard. ‘This is urgent! Vital quest information! Just between us. Did you or did you not sell Princess Pretty some dragon’s heart?’
‘No, I did not,’ Brewer said glumly. ‘I hated to disappoint her. She had a touch of sunburn, and a little dragon’s heart applied once a week is very good for the complexion.’
‘Really?’ Bertha said with interest, her eyes flicking to Conker’s pack.
‘She had a big bag of rubies to pay for it, too,’ Brewer said, shaking his head. ‘I can tell you, it nearly killed me to have to say I couldn’t help her.’
He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips. ‘But… since we’re speaking so frankly, Conker – and since this conversation is just between us – I may be able to help you, after all.’
He ducked down behind the counter, scuffled around for a moment, then stood up again with a little black velvet drawstring bag in his hand. Reverently he put the bag down and pulled the strings to open it.
Everyone craned to look. Inside the bag was something that looked like a strip of old leather – part of an ancient belt, perhaps.
‘Dried dragon’s heart does not have quite the strength and reliability of dragon’s heart cream, of course,’ Brewer muttered. ‘But beggars can’t be choosers, and a scrap of this will plump up beautifully in a bit of warm rainwater.’
His eyes, enormously magnified by his thick glasses, were gleaming. ‘Now, how much would you like?’ he coaxed, drawing a set of tiny scales and a silver knife towards him. ‘One shaving? Two? More to the point, I suppose, how much cash do you have on you?’
Gaping at the dried dragon’s heart, Conker began patting his pockets aimlessly.
‘But – but Master Brewer,’ Leo stammered, ‘if you had dragon’s heart all along, why didn’t you sell it to Princess Pretty?’
Brewer looked at him in blank amazement. ‘Why, this heart would have been no use to her, young man!’ he said. ‘This is male dragon’s heart – suitable only for use by males. Ladies require female dragon’s heart. Surely you know that!’
Leo shook his head. His heart was racing. ‘So – the heart of a male dragon is no use at all to – to a woman?’ he asked, wanting to be quite sure. ‘Even in… a potion?’
‘No use at all,’ said Brewer, pushing his glasses back on his nose and staring as Conker punched the air, Mimi and Bertha squealed with excitement and Freda snapped her beak in relief. ‘And, of course, as I told Princess Pretty, dragon’s heart is hard enough to come by, but female dragon’s heart is just impossible! Female dragons don’t get into fights like males do, generally, and they’re harder to find. A cream made of female dragon’s heart would be worth – well, I don’t know what it would be worth! But it’s just not available!’
‘A lot you know!’ spat Spoiler, whose eyes had glazed over at the thought of the money he could have made out of the female dragon’s heart in the silver box. ‘We’ve got –’ he yelled as Freda pecked his ankle savagely.
Brewer cocked his head like a lanky, ginger-crested bird who had just sighted a particularly tasty worm. His tongue flicked out to moisten his lips again. ‘Surely the lady is not saying –’ he began.
‘Dame Dally’s in shock after being chased by an ogre,’ Conker snapped. ‘Take no notice of her.’
Something thudded violently against the front door of the shop.
‘Open up, Brewer!’ a cracked voice shrieked from the street.
Spoiler stiffened. ‘It’s that witch!’ he moaned, rolling his eyes in terror.
‘We’d better hide him,’ muttered Freda. ‘She’ll try to curse us all, otherwise.’
Conker ground his teeth. ‘Get down behind the counter, you!’ he growled at Spoiler.
‘No, no!’ said Brewer, hurriedly closing the velvet bag and stuffing it into the pocket of his apron. ‘I’m not having anyone behind my counter! There are a lot of valuable things here.’ He flashed his yellow teeth at Spoiler. ‘No offence, madam, but a potion-maker can’t be too careful.’
‘Brewer!’ screamed the witch. ‘Open up or I’ll melt the lock!’
‘Coming, Crabclaw!’ Brewer shouted.
He took a squat white jar from a shelf behind him and put it beside the cash register. The jar bore a label reading ‘No-Fail Hair Gro’.
‘She’s come for this,’ he told the quest team in an undertone. ‘As soon as she’s paid for it, I’ll get rid of her. Go through the brewing room and wait in the kitchen at the back till I call you. Keep the door shut. She’ll probably leave through the Gap. Go! Go!’
Swearing under his breath, Conker kicked his pack into the shadows behind the counter and helped Leo haul Spoiler, whose legs seemed to have frozen with fear, through the brown curtain and on to the door at the back of the brewing room. Freda, Mimi and Bertha bolted after them.