enissimo and his party were led away from the courtroom down a meandering, torchlit passageway. The two muscled stag-men at their front and rear moved in complete silence and Ned decided to remain similarly quiet. Whatever he was about to yell at the Ringmaster could wait till they were alone. Gorrn slithered nervously in the shadows along the stone walls. Ned’s mouse sat perched in terrified silence on his shoulder, peering out at the darkness without so much as a tick from his clockwork heart. The ground sloped downwards continuously and the further they walked, the warmer the air became, till the ground felt hot under their feet.
Almost half an hour had passed when they came to a thick stone barrier that blocked the way forward. The stag-men eyed each other nervously, then one of them fumbled a hand along the wall till it came upon a lever; a lever that had obviously not been used in some time. He pulled it and the metal groaned, finally shifting with a grinding of rock and metal. Gears turned, and a section of the wall gave way with a blast of stifling hot air. Ned covered his mouth and nose – it stank of sulphur and burning oil.
Their two guides handed Benissimo and Mr Fox their torches and motioned for them to go on. Clearly whatever Benissimo was searching for was not something that either of the two creatures was willing to meet. Even more troubling was the grinding of rock as the entrance was resealed behind them.
By the orange lick of firelight, Ned could see that they were in a large cavern; stalagmites and stalactites, jagged and sharp, were pointing up and down from the ground and ceiling, like hungering angry teeth. With every step down the hot stone ground, Ned seethed. He had no idea what they had come to see or why it was so dangerous, but if there was even the slimmest chance of not making it back to his parents, Ned wanted to know why.
“Right, goat-face, you had better start talking!”
Somewhere at his feet there was an irate “Arr” of agreement from his familiar, and Whiskers backed Ned up with an irritable “Scree” followed by some lightning-fast eye blinks. The Morse code message in the robot’s lit-up eyes was unintelligible because he was flashing them so quickly, but the sentiment was clear. Ned and his sidekicks were not happy.
“Now now, pup – you promised to remain calm.”
“No, no, I didn’t. You asked me to, but I never promised!”
“All the same, this isn’t the time or place.”
Ned was quite beyond caring about timing, or anything else for that matter.
“Time or place?! Benissimo, outside this stinking hot cave are the world’s most terrifying creatures, like, the most dangerous things on earth, only they’re all scared to death of what’s down here. WHAT ARE WE ABOUT TO MEET and WHY DIDN’T YOU WARN ME?!”
“Well, you see, the security of the mission, and … you know, et cetera et cetera …”
“And what?”
“I didn’t think you’d come if you knew.”
At this point Ned could feel his peculiar rodent’s fur bristle as Whiskers arched his back and then hissed – actually hissed, like an angry cat. The Debussy Mark Twelve was going into attack mode, and behind them both, Gorrn had risen up over Ned as an angry block of be-toothed ooze.
When Mr Fox spoke, it was with his polite yet certain demeanour, though every so often there was a notable crack in his voice. “Ned, I think it might be prudent to calm down. I know you’re angry, and I am too, though to be honest I’m a little more peeved with myself for insisting on joining you. The thing is, your friend George has been very helpful in getting me up to date with all things to do with the Hidden, and I’ve studied his collection of books extensively, so I like to think I know my ‘creatures’ at least in theory if not in practice. Have you noticed the air in here?”
“Err, yes, it’s hot and it stinks.”
“Yes, and it’s getting hotter and, well, stinkier. From this fact I would deduce that old ‘goat-face’ here, as you call him, has brought us to see a dragon.”
Dragons in any form were famously dangerous. That much Ned knew. They weren’t, however, unbeatable, so that didn’t explain the reaction of the Darklings outside.
Even under torchlight, Benissimo managed to look quite sheepish.
“Well?” asked Ned.
“Roo?” oozed Gorrn.
“Scree?” screed Whiskers.
“Our polite ally is correct,” Benissimo admitted, “though Tiamat is not just any dragon. Tiamat is the father of all dragons.”
Ned suddenly wished he hadn’t asked. “The father of all dragons?”
“Look, we really don’t have time to get into dragon genealogy, but to explain briefly, while most people can track their ancestors back a few generations, some even a few hundred years, dragons, and I do mean all dragons, can track their entire ancestry back to Tiamat. He is as old as this mountain and unimaginably powerful.”
“And that stone barrier is to keep him out?”
“Actually, just his breath, pup. I doubt at his age whether he could squeeze a big toe through that opening.”
Despite the heat, and the breathlessness in his chest, Ned felt a shiver of fear as cold as ice course up his back and neck. “So when the stag thing up there said, ‘he need only breathe it and you will end’…?”
“He wasn’t referring to the creature’s voice. Dragons breathe fire, and this one breathes the most.”
“If we get out of here, my mum and dad are going to kill you, Benissimo, and if they can’t figure out how, then I will.”
“If you need any help at all, please consider me at your full disposal,” said Mr Fox, who was thumbing the handle of his sidearm.
“Thank you, Mr Fox.”
“Fox will do, and the pleasure really will be all mine.”
There was an appreciative “Arr” from below and a bob of Whiskers’ head.
Benissimo pursed his lips as though chewing on a rock. “When you two have quite finished becoming buddies, I suggest we crack on with our mission.”
Step after step they went, the torchlight casting sinewy shadows in all directions. Ned had the horrible sensation of being watched. It was different from the forest. That place had been alive with eyes and ears, beaks, feathers and claws. As the sweat soaked his back and he pulled off his steaming winter coat, Ned was quite sure that only one set of eyes and ears was waiting. The big question was: waiting where?
They had come to the bottom of a steep incline when the rocks beneath them shifted. Their path was going gradually uphill now. Ned pulled the perometer from his pocket and checked the needle. It pointed forward. Nothing to fear yet then.
“So, Mr Fox,” said Benissimo quietly, “glad you came?”
“I must admit the sensation of unrelenting fear and curiosity is a mixed bag, Mr B.”
Benissimo chuckled. “They didn’t train you for stag-men and dragons at your academy?”
“I wouldn’t really know.”
Benissimo turned to look at Mr Fox. “You don’t know?”
“None of the BBB’s operatives know anything – that is to say, anything about their past. I am something of a blank canvas. Which is why I can perform my job so well, without fear of distraction from anything or anyone.”
Ned looked at Mr Fox too. He was every inch an operative, the consummate spy and soldier because, as Ned was just beginning to understand, he didn’t know anything else.
“That … that must be awful?” stammered Ned.
“Protocol. The BBB is our entire life and I mean that literally. Friends and family are considered to be high risk, completely forbidden. We undergo years of extreme training, or brainwashing depending on your point of view. Our thumbprints are removed, our teeth replaced and finally, just to put the icing on the cake, we go through a twelve-month course of extreme hypnosis until we don’t remember anything.”
“But why?”
“I should think you’d know the answer to that, Ned? Didn’t you have to do something similar to your friends?”
Mr Fox was right, and the memory of it hurt. Dear old Gummy and Arch back in safe cosy Grittlesby no longer remembered him. He had set the de-rememberer device to “ten” and any notion of Ned or their friendship had been permanently erased.
“To protect them and the mission. And you really don’t remember anything at all?”
Mr Fox stopped walking. “I remember one thing, vividly, from before I became an operative.” His expression suddenly grew dark. “And that’s where I’d like to stop the conversation – thank you.”
But before Ned and Benissimo were able to wonder why, from all around them, echoing back and forth along the cavern’s walls, ceiling and ground, came a rumbling, deep and low.
“AND IT WAS JUST GETTING INTERESTING.”
Benissimo’s whip began to coil wildly and the ooze that was Gorrn sucked itself into Ned’s shadow in a gurgling shlup. Whiskers made no sound at all, because the small rodent was simply too frightened to move. Ned checked the dial – its needle was spinning round and round! Either the thing had broken or the dragon was moving and fast.
“Tiamat?” started Benissimo.
“YES.”
“Where exactly are you?”
“BENEATH YOU.”
“Beneath us where?”
“YOU ARE STANDING ON MY NECK.”