Matthew was very interested in dragons.
In fact, he was interested in a lot of things, including all sorts of animals - not just dragons. He liked to pet dogs he met in the street, even though his Mummy told him it was dangerous. He liked to look at cows and horses in the fields, and to watch wild animals on TV. The family had an old cat called Elliot, and Matthew loved Elliot so much that he often carried the cat round the house with him. Elliot didn’t always like this, and had been known to scratch Matthew, but Matthew still loved him, and took him round the house anyway to show that there was no hard feelings.
But one day, Daddy read Matthew a book about dragons. It had a wonderful picture of a huge, golden dragon: all wings and claws and shiny scales. It was breathing real flames and looked very fierce and very beautiful all at the same time. Matthew loved it at once.
“Are all dragons like that?” he asked Daddy.
Daddy scratched his head. “Well - they come in different colours. Some are gold like this one, but there are also red dragons, and black dragons, and blue dragons and green dragons… Maybe other colours as well. But they all breath fire, or most of them do, and they can usually fly.”
“Can we have one?” asked Matthew.
Daddy laughed. “I don’t think so. A dragon would scare Elliot, and besides, we don’t have room to keep it.”
“Perhaps when Elliot’s dead? And if we move to a bigger house? Please, Daddy!”
“No. Even a big house wouldn't be big enough. A dragon would break the door down trying to get in, and if it could get in, it’s hot breath would mess up the wallpaper. And it’s time for your bath now - up you go!”
Matthew went upstairs for his bath. “Mummy,” he asked “can we have a dragon when Elliot’s dead? Just a small one - and we could keep it in the garden.”
Mummy smiled. “Your Dad’s been reading you stories, hasn't he! But it is just a story, Matt. There aren't any real dragons. Now let me wash your hair.”
Matthew wanted to ask how come Daddy knew so much about dragons if they weren't real. But Mummy had poured water all over his head and he couldn't open his mouth without drowning.
Next morning, after Daddy had gone to work, Matthew got out the dragon book and looked at the picture. The more he looked at it, the more interested he was in dragons, and the more he wanted to see one for himself.
But how could he find one?
He thought of asking his big brother Tom about dragons. But Tom might just laugh at him, and then they’d have to have a fight. Not that he minded having a fight with Tom, but it made Mummy cross, especially when she was trying to get Tom ready for school.
There was nothing else to do but to go and look for dragons himself, Matthew decided. So he packed his bag with a drink and a biscuit, and told Mummy that he was going to look for dragons.
Mummy was washing. And ironing shirts. And feeding the cat. And answering the telephone. It was always a good time to tell her you were going to do something.
“Yes, dear. Mind the roads, and be back for dinner,” she said, putting the cat food by the telephone and the cat on the ironing board.
So Matthew went off to look for dragons.
An old woman was walking up the street towards him. Matthew wondered if she knew anything about dragons.
“’scuse me” he asked politely. “Do you know where I can find a dragon!”
She glared at him. “Cheeky monkey,” she muttered as she went by.
“Is that yes or no?” Matthew wondered aloud. He carried on down the street.
The postman was coming along on his bike. Matthew thought that he’d be sure to know if anyone did. Perhaps he knew the dragon's address?
When he got of his bike to deliver some letters, Matthew went up to him. “Ah - beg your pardon, Mr Postman - do you happen to know where the dragons live?”
The Postman laughed. “I know a few dragons - but not the sort you mean!”
Matthew was getting a bit confused. “I’m not sure what sort I mean - so what sort do you mean?” he asked, but the postman got back on his bike and rode off.
Matthew carried on down the street, and along the next one. An old man was leaning on his garden gate, watching Matthew.
“I’ll have one last try.” Matthew said to himself. He went up to the old man. “Good morning.” he said.
The old man nodded. “Good morning to you,” he answered. “And where are you off to, young man?”
“I’m a little boy, not a young man,” Matthew explained “And I’m looking for dragons. I wonder - do you know where I can find them?”
The old man sucked his teeth, scratched his chin, and looked into the distance. “Dragons, eh? Well now… what do I remember about dragons?” Matthew waited patiently, while the old man thought.
“There was a rhyme… I haven’t heard it in years. How did it go?”
“I don’t know,” answered Matthew.
“Something like this.” said the old man. He leaned over the gate. “Listen carefully now… ‘High above the sunset, far beyond the moon’ - oh, no, it’s the other way round.
Far beyond the sunset
High above the moon
Fly the great-winged dragons
On their way to dragon-home.
And that’s all I know about it, I’m afraid.”
“Oh. Thank you very much.” Matthew said politely.
“You’re welcome.” The old man answered. “Let me know if you find any dragons, won’t you?” He went back up his garden and into his house.
Matthew walked on down the road, thinking about the old man’s rhyme. It was the best clue he’d had yet, but he wasn't sure that it really helped. ‘Beyond the sunset’ sounded too far to walk, and he didn't have any bus fare: while “High above the moon” was impossible without a rocket.
Or was it? Suddenly, Matthew remembered something that Grandma had said. She’d been telling Mummy something while Matthew played, so he hadn't really been listening - but he was almost sure that she’d said she was ‘over the moon’. He’d meant to ask how she managed it, but had forgotten about it. Perhaps now was a good time to ask. In any case, Grandma was nearly as old as the old man, or perhaps older, so she might know something about dragons herself.
Matthew set off for Grandma’s house.
When he got there, he knocked on the door. “Hello, Grandma, it’s Matthew” he called out. “Can I come in?”
Grandma opened the door. “Hello, Matthew. Where’s your Mummy?”
“Mummy’s at home. I came to see you by myself,” Matthew explained. “I’m looking for dragons.”
“You’re looking for dragons, and so you came to see me?” asked Grandma. “And does Mummy know where you are?”
“I told her where I was going,” Matthew answered. “Can I have an apple?”
“Of course, dear.” Grandma got him an apple, and a drink. And a piece of cake. “Now then, Matthew - why do you want to know about dragons?”
So Matthew told her all about the book, and the picture, and about the old man and his rhyme. “I heard you tell Mummy about being ‘over the moon’” Matthew went on. “And that’s the way to dragon-land. So please could you tell me how you got over the moon?”
Grandma laughed. “Well, Matthew, I’m afraid that being ‘over the moon’ doesn't mean really going there! It’s something we say when we feel good about something, or when something wonderful happens.”
Matthew thought about it. “So if I’m feeling really happy, then I can get ‘over the moon?’”
Grandma nodded. “Something like that. Over the moon is in your head and your heart.”
“And if I was really, really happy, would I be ‘beyond the sunset’?”
“Well, I've never heard of it - but I expect so!”
Matthew finished his cake, said thank you to Grandma, and set off on his dragon hunt. As he walked along, he was trying very hard to think happy thoughts, but how ever happy he felt, he didn't seem any closer to the moon.
“Perhaps I need to be a bit higher to start with,” he thought. “If I climb up to the top of the hill, then think my happiest thoughts, that will give me the best chance of getting over the moon.”
It was a long, hard climb to the top of the hill, and by the time he got there Matthew felt too hot and tired to think happy thoughts. But he settled down on a soft bit of grass under a tree, lay back, and had a very good try at it.
He thought of birthdays, and birthday parties, and Christmas, and Christmas presents. And Christmas cake. And cake of all sorts. And food of all sorts. And he yawned.
He felt a bit happier, but very sleepy, and it didn't seem to be getting him any closer to the moon.
“How did that rhyme go again?” he thought to himself. Leaning back on the tree, he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate.
“Far beyond the sunset
High above the moon
Fly the great-winged Dragons
On their way to Dragon-home”
“Dragon home. Great winged dragons…”
Matthew tried to repeat the rhyme again, but all who he could think of was the great, golden dragons, their wings beating powerfully as they flew home. They made a loud woosh-wosh noise on each strong beat, a noise which seemed to grow louder and louder until his head was so filled with the sound that there was no room for anything else, not even a thought.
Suddenly, Matthew sat straight upright, his eyes wide open. The sound of dragon wings had stopped - but he could still hear something. A slapping, scratching, scrabbling sort of sound, with sharp pants and grunts and growls thrown in here and there.
It was coming from the other side of the hill - from a side he’d never seen before.
Matthew got up and walked slowly in that direction. He wasn't sure what the noise was, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to know: it sounded scary.
On the other hand, he wasn't sure that he didn't want not to know, either. “Perhaps I’ll just have a little peep round that rock,” he thought to himself “and if it’s scary, I can run away.”
Matthew crouched down very low as he came up to the rock, and very, very carefully peeped round the side of the rock.
And quickly jumped back again! Because what was there was scary. It was very big, and it had a lot of scales, and sharp claws and big teeth, and huge wings. And it was a bright, shining, glistening, gleaming, brilliantly golden colour all over.
In fact, it looked just like a dragon.
Now, Matthew was even more excited than he was scared. Had he really found a dragon after all? He took a deep breath and peeped round the rock again.
There was no question. It was indeed a dragon. An enormous golden dragon, laying on the ground in front of him, with it’s wings spread out and beating at the ground: and it’s long sharp claws scraping and scratching at the rock beneath, and it’s massive fangs biting and tearing at … at a thick black chain that was fixed deep into the rock at one end, and at the other end was fastened to a black metal collar round the dragon’s neck.
The dragon was chained down! It couldn't fly away - it was trapped!
“Gosh!” Matthew said out loud - and at once the dragon stopped it’s biting and scratching and looked straight at him.
It’s eyes were huge and dark, with a bright glowing golden light deep, deep down and for a moment Matthew felt that they were so big and so deep that he could jump into them and fall forever.
Then the dragon spoke. He spoke quite softly, in a deep, growling, roaring way. The sound made Matthew shiver, because you could tell right away how very, very loud the dragon’s voice could be, if he chose to shout.
“Come out,” said the dragon. “Come out where I can see you.”
Matthew wasn't sure what to do. So he didn't do anything.
“I know you are there,” the dragon whispered. “Come out and talk to me.” There was a long pause. “Please.”
Now, you don’t have to know much about dragons to realise that they do not say please very often, even to each other. Certainly, not to small boys hiding behind rocks. For a dragon to say please meant that it must really need help.
So Matthew took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the rock.
“Hello,” he said politely. “My name’s Matthew.”
“Matthew,” the dragon whispered. “Are you a dwarf - no, I see, you are a human. A very small human.”
“I’m a little boy,” Matthew explained.
“So you are. I see now.” The dragon’s deep, rumbley voice sounded a little bit like Dad, when he was giving his Last Warning before getting really cross. It made Matthew feel even more nervous. He didn't think he’d like to be around if the dragon got really cross, even though he was chained up.
“But what,” continued the dragon, “is a little boy doing here? So far from the human realms, and so close to Dragon Home?”
“I was looking for dragons,” explained Matthew. “And someone told me a rhyme about them.”
“Indeed,” said the Dragon in a knowing voice. “You were looking for dragons: and I was wishing to be found. So it happens, and so we have met.” He paused, considering. “I suppose that I should give you my name, should I not? I am Alsaro the Golden - of the Golden Dragons, naturally - and I am very pleased to meet you , Matthew. I hope that you will be able to help me?”
Matthew thought that Alsaro’s last question sounded a little worried. “I’ll try,” he answered, feeling a little less nervous now that the dragon was asking for his help. “But - what can I do?”
“Ah,” sighed Alsaro. “What indeed? You are not the help I would have chosen - yet you are the help that has come, and perhaps I should not be so swift to judge. Do you, perhaps, have some experience of ogres?”
Matthew thought hard. He wasn't sure what ‘experience’ was, but he had heard of ogres - there were some in the dragon story Dad had read to him. As far as he could remember, they were large, ugly and not good to have around.
“Which ogre do you mean?” he asked, trying to remember more from the story.
“The ogre in question,” said Alsaro “Is Grombold Grum, who has only recently moved to these parts. But he has quickly proved to be a most unwelcome neighbor.”
“I didn't think that dragons had many problems with neighbors.” Matthew replied.
Alsaro made a loud booming noise. Matthew nearly ran back behind the rock, before he realised that the dragon was laughing.
“Quite so, little Matthew. More often, dragon’s are the problem neighbours - at least, for humans! But it is different with ogres. Ogres are among the very few creatures that can be a problem for dragons. They are, you see, very strong - very, very strong indeed. And they are thick-skinned. Dragon fire will burn them, dragon teeth and claws may scratch them - but they will be only a little harmed, if at all. And they have enormous appetites, and like nothing better than a freshly swallowed dragon.”
“That sounds bad.” Matthew agreed.
“It is not normally a matter of serious concern,” Alsaro continued. “Dragons can fly - and ogres cannot! Dragons make their homes in the highest peaks of the greatest mountains, where ogres cannot come: and what is more, most ogres are extremely stupid, whereas Dragons are very clever. It would normally only be a very old, feeble, careless and very unlucky dragon that would fall prey to an ogre.”
Matthew was sensible enough not to point out that this reflected rather badly on Alsaro: in any case, the Golden Dragon had more to say.
“This Grombold Grum, however, is a little different. It may be that he is half-giant, but certainly he is more cunning than most Ogres. Cunning enough to capture a dragon.”
“Um - would that be you, then?” Matthew suggested.
Alsaro snarled, and a great lick of bright yellow flame burst from his mouth. Fortunately, he had turned his head away, but Matthew still felt a wave of scorching heat. He wondered if he should get back behind the rock, but Alsaro calmed himself, and spoke again.
“My apologies - I’m afraid that I am rather angry about this - not angry with you, of course, but with Grombold Grum - and also with myself. Yes, it is true - I have been captured by the ogre, and the shame of it is even harder to bear than this chain around my neck.”
“So - how did it happen?” asked Matthew curiously.
“Oh, he set a trap - a simple enough ruse, but more than one would expect from an ogre, which is my only excuse. He captured a large fat sheep, and tethered it out in a place where he knew dragons frequently flew. This place, in fact. And sure enough, along I came, and seeing this tasty morsel, I flew down for a snack.” Alsaro sighed. “Greed has always been the downfall of dragons. That and pride. Did I stop to think ‘This is strange - a sheep left out untended, so close to Dragon Home’. No, if I thought of it at all, I thought ‘I will enjoy this little meal, and who is strong enough to stop me?”
“An ogre?” Matthew suggested.
Alsaro nodded sadly. “An ogre, of course. And such a cunning ogre. No sooner had I landed, and reached out to sample this sheep, than up leapt Grombold Grum, from the pit in which he had concealed himself, and ‘snap’ around my neck went this chain!”
“It must be a very strong chain.”
“Of course! Were it just human steel I would have it broken in a moment, or melted it through - but this is black dwarfish iron: there is none stronger, and none other that would hold a dragon. And how an ogre could come by such a thing is something that I would like to know - but then, dwarfs and dragons have no love for each other, since we both desire gold for our hordes, and will often fight for it. No difficulty for a cunning ogre like Grombold Grum to get a dwarfish chain, then, and to anchor it deep in the rock.”
Mathew looked around warily. “What happened to Grombold Grum, anyhow?”
“Gone for the moment,” said Alsaro gloomily. “Gone home to sleep off his meal.”
“What meal?”
The Golden Dragon sighed, and little black puffs of smoke drifted out of his nostrils. “The meal he made of my family - my brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and all the other Golden Dragons. For they heard me cry out in distress, and came at once to see what the trouble was: and as each one arrived, out came Grombold Grum, and each one was swallowed up on the instant.”
“Oh! That’s bad!” Matthew was very upset to hear this: it had taken him so long to find any Dragons at all - and now it seemed that only one remained, and he was all chained up. “Are you the only Golden Dragon left, then?”
“Yes.” Alsaro agreed miserably. “And I don’t suppose I’ll be here much longer. Grombold Grum will be back when he’s had a rest, and then I shall be swallowed too. And there will be no more Golden Dragons ever again.”
Matthew was horrified. “That can’t happen!” he shouted. “You must do something!”
“There is nothing I can do,” said Alsaro. “But perhaps there is something you can do.”
“Me? But I’m only a little boy! What can I do about an ogre?”
“There is just one chance! You must…” Alsaro paused, lifted an ear, and turned his head around. “Do you hear that?”
“What?” asked Matthew, but at the same moment he heard something himself. Far away there was a thud. A very faint and distant thud, but somehow a very heavy thud as well.
“We don’t have very long,” said Alsaro. “Grombold Grum is on his way.”
There was another thud. A little bit closer, a little bit louder, and definitely very heavy. Matthew felt the ground shake, just a little bit, under his feet: and then he felt himself shake as well. Just a little bit.
“Listen carefully, Matthew. When the ogre gets here, you must be very careful he doesn't see you! You aren't big enough for even a snack, but he might decide to squash you up for sauce! So what ever happens, you must stay very quiet - even if he swallows me down at once, which is likely.”
“Oh no!” gasped Matthew. There was another thud, closer and louder yet, and the ground shook again.
“But there is a chance - if the ogre doesn't see you. You must try and follow him home. I know that won’t be easy, and you must be very brave - but if you manage to do that, then wait for him to fall asleep.”
Thud! This one was much closer and louder, and the ground shook so much that it made the pebbles bounce.
“Then,” Alsaro continued urgently, “when he is fast asleep - and you must be sure he is fast asleep: wait until he snores - you know what snores are, don’t you?”
“Of course,” said Matthew. “My Daddy has them.”
THUD! The ground jumped this time, and Matthew nearly fell over.
“Then, when Grombold Grum snores, you must creep up to him and… undo his Button.”
“What? Undo his buttons?” Matthew didn’t understand this at all. “What for?”
THUD!! This was so close, and so loud, and so heavy, that Matthew did fall over, and he couldn’t hear what Alsaro said. “What do you mean?” Matthew shouted.
“Not his buttons - his Button! His special Button - his - oh, what do you call it - dragons don’t have them…”
THUD!!! The ground heaved and leaped under Matthew as he fell over again. “Alsaro!” he shouted “What button?”
“His - his - oh you’ll know it when you see it! Just undo it, that’s all!
“But I’m not good with buttons! I haven’t really learned buttons yet!”
THUD!!!! A rock next to Matthew cracked open and the pieces rolled down the hill.
“Quick! He’s here! Hide!” Alsaro snapped. “And don’t forget the Button!”
“I’ll try.” Matthew promised, and dived into the hole left by the cracked rock.
And with one final, enormous, ear-shattering, ground-shivering, THUD!!!!! - Grombold Grum the Ogre arrived.
Very, very carefully, Matthew peeped out from the hole. He was quite scared, especially by the thought of being turned into sauce: but he was also very interested to know what an ogre looked like - and he wanted to see if he had a Special Button.
The first thing Matthew saw was a pair of huge, hairy feet. They were as big as beds - not Matthew’s little bed, but the big bed that Mummy and Daddy slept in. They were as hairy as Elliot - but not nice sleek smooth fur like Elliot’s, but thick, black, snarly dirty hair. The ankle bones were higher than Matthew’s head, and the toes were longer than Matthew’s body - and they had nasty long yellow claws as long again.
Above the foot, was a massive, thick, hairy leg, so big around that it would have taken Matthew, his brother, his Mummy and his Daddy all joining hands together to reach round it.
From halfway up the legs - which would have been about as high as Matthew’s bedroom, which was upstairs - the ogre was wrapped in an enormous blanket, very dirty, very ragged, and covered in patches: hairy patches, furry patches, woolly patches, leathery patches and even some patches that looked like big leaves. It was wrapped several times round his middle, and held together by a very thick piece of rope, tied at the front.
Above the blanket, Matthew saw the Ogres shoulders, so wide across that you could have parked a small bus on them, and so hairy (and dirty) that it was hard to say where the blanket finished and the Ogre began
From the shoulders hung the Ogre’s arms. They were every bit as thick and round and hairy as his legs, but even longer: his two hands (which were even bigger than his feet, and had fingers and claws at least twice as long as his toes) dragged along the ground behind him.
And on the shoulders was the Ogre’s head: and if Matthew had thought (which he had) that the rest of the Ogre was huge, disgusting and scary, then he would have thought that the head alone was at least twice as huge, hairy and disgusting as all the rest put together (which it was).
The shoulders were wide, but the head was wider: the big, pink, fleshy ears hung down past the shoulders on each side, and with room to spare. And from each ear, the Ogres head went up, up, up like the side of a mountain to finish in a sharp, shiny, bald, pointy top. Matthew was used to bald heads: his Dad had lost most of his hair before Matthew was born (and the rest soon afterwards), but he had never seen anything so big, so high and so unpleasant as that huge high peak of shiny, sweaty, red, sunburned head.
Below the bald peak, the rest of the Ogre’s head was covered with thick, black, lank, dank and horribly rank hair, that hung down so far that parts of it were wrapped up in the blanket: from out of this hair poked a long, red, fleshy, drippy, snuffly nose: and on either side of the nose, buried deep inside the hair, two little red eyes gleamed hungrily.
This horrible sight made Matthew feel quite ill and very scared indeed - but there was worse to come: for then the Ogre opened his mouth. And that was the very worst part of the whole Ogre.
It was like a huge split that opened in the hairy front of the Ogre’s face, a big black hole that went all the way across his head and halfway down each side, till it reached the ears. It was lined with thick, slobbery, rubbery, gooey lilac lips, and it kept on opening and opening . The ogres tongue - wide, wet and purple! - slid out and dangled down to his waist, until the ogre sucked it up and licked his lips with a quite disgustingly loud slapping sound that Matthew’s mother would never have allowed at the table. And then he spoke.
“Ahhh - dragon! Good snack for Grombold Grum!” His voice was every bit as bad as the rest of him, and very loud as well. What’s more, he spat as he spoke, and the smell was enough to make Matthew dizzy.
Grombold Grum reached out a huge hairy hand towards Alsaro. The dragon roared and blast of white-hot flame shot out at the ogre: there was a nasty smell of charred hair, but it did not bother Grombold Grum in the least. He grabbed the dragon around the throat, paying no attention to Alsaro’s snarling and biting and clawing. With the other hand, the ogre took hold of the chain, which had resisted all Alsaro’s dragon fire and dragon strength, and with a twist of his fingers - chink! - it parted.
The ogre laughed. And opened his mouth even wider!
And popped Alsaro in. Whole. All snapping dragon teeth and tearing dragon claws, flapping dragon wings and lashing dragon tail - all of him went inside the ogre’s huge mouth in one enormous wriggling mouthful. And then Grombold Grum closed his mouth, and Alsaro the Golden Dragon was gone.
All except for a small bit of his tail, that still poked out from the ogre’s lips, twitching. Grombold Grum frowned, and licked the last bit of tail inside: then he swallowed, and burped.
“”MMM!” he said. “Good!”
Of course, Alsaro had said that all the other dragons had been swallowed, but now Matthew realised that they had been swallowed whole! The sight was so shocking, that he was frozen stiff with fright: and just as well, for then Grombold Grum started sniffing, and looking around him with puzzlement.
“Um.” He grunted. “Smell something…” He sniffed loudly, and lifted an earlobe to listen. “Hum. Smells like - like boy!”
How Grombold Grum could smell anything at all apart from his own amazing stink, Matthew didn't know: but he was so afraid that for a moment he didn’t even breath!
Grombold Grum laughed, a loud gurgling noise as unpleasant as the rest of him. “Can’t be boy! No boy’s here near dragon home!” He thought for a moment then laughed again. “No dragon’s either. Now Grombold Grum home!” He scratched his head. “Good idea. Grombold Grum go home. Little rest after snack. Pity no boy. Tasty. Easy to swallow”
He turned round, and the ground shook again as he stomped off the way he’d come.
For a long time after the ogre had gone, Matthew stayed perfectly still. He didn't dare move. He didn't dare even think about moving. He hardly dared even breath, and when he did, he did it very, very quietly.
But, at last, when the ground was perfectly still and every thing was quiet again, Matthew looked out from behind the rock. There was no sign of the ogre. And, of course, no sign of the dragon, except for a broken piece of chain laying on the sand.
“I can go home now,” Matthew said to himself. “I can go back round the hill the way I came, and, go home for tea, and I’ll never see that ogre ever again.”
“But then I’ll never see a dragon ever again either,” he answered himself. “And Alsaro’s trusting you to rescue him.”
“But Alsaro’s …. Swallowed.” Matthew shuddered at the thought. “What can I do?”
“He told you what to do.”
“But I don’t know what he meant about buttons. And I’m not good with buttons.”
“You can do buttons. And an ogres button can’t be very different.”
“Yes - but - he smelt me!”
“Yes. But Alsaro needs you.”
Matthew’s conversation with himself stopped, because he’d run out of things to say. And he still didn't know what to do.
On the ground, next to the broken black chain, he saw something shining brightly in the sun. He walked over and looked at it again. It was as big as his hand, shaped like a triangle, and a bright shiny golden colour. Matthew knew that colour. It was Alsaro’s colour. And this was one of his scales, torn off in his struggle.
Matthew reached out and picked the scale up. It was smooth and hard, though not as hard as he has thought it would be - more like very thick leather than like metal. It was still a little bit warm.
“I did say I would try.” Matthew remembered. He took a deep breath, pushed the dragon scale under his t-shirt, and turned to follow the ogre.
It wasn't difficult, at first. Once they were off the rocky hillside the ogre’s trail was clear. His massive footprints had sunk deep into the ground, and here and there were trees that had been pushed aside. Once the path took Matthew through a small wood, which was now a lot smaller - the ogre had smashed his way through the middle. Trees that had got in his way were torn out as if they were weeds! Matthew climbed over the fallen trunks and carried on.
After the wood, Matthew found himself walking through thick grass, which grew higher and higher, until it was almost up to his chest. It was hard work, pushing his way through it, and Matthew soon got tired, and hungry, and thirsty.
“I wish I was home,” he said to himself. But then he felt the Dragon’s scale in his pocket, and remembered his promise, and kept on walking.
His legs were aching now, and what’s more, it was starting to get dark. In the tall grass, and in darkness, how would he find his way? It would be easy to miss even something as big as an ogre’s footprint, if it got really dark.
Ahead of him, Matthew could see some more trees - with a gap in them where the ogre had gone through. And he could hear water running, which made him feel even thirstier.
“I’ll just get to the trees, and have a rest - and perhaps a drink of water.” He was almost sure that it was a stream he could hear, or even a river. He’d always wanted to drink out of a river, but Mum would never let him. He was sure she wouldn’t mind now - well, almost sure - so he hurried on, through the trees.
It was getting quite dark now, especially under the trees, and Matthew lost the path that the ogre had made. He had to push through the branches, which tore at his clothes and scratched his face. “Stupid trees!” he muttered. “Why can’t they get out of the way!”
“Stupid yourself!” said a voice nearby. “You didn’t have to come here!”
Matthew jumped. “Who said that?” he shouted, very surprised, and a little bit scared. He looked round, but couldn’t see anything but trees.
“I said it, of course!” said the voice. “Perhaps you are stupid.”
“Yes - he must be stupid!” said another voice. “Wandering around lost in the dark. It’s a stupid thing to do!”
“Moving anywhere at all is pretty stupid!” said someone else. “Why can’t he find a nice place to settle down in, like us!”
And then there was a lot of voices speaking, all saying things like “Yes - quite right!” and “That would be more sensible!” and “Won’t catch me moving around!” They were strange voices, sounding heavy and solid and sort of - wooden.
And they came from all around him, from in amongst the trees in the wood.
In fact, Matthew suddenly realised, the voices came from the trees!
Now that may seem a very strange thing to happen, to be talked to by trees: but for a small boy who as already talked to a dragon and seen an ogre - all on the same day - talking trees were not so strange. Just very, very unusual. And a bit scary, but on the whole Matthew felt relieved to know who was talking.
And of course, he realised at once the mistake he had made, and did his best to put things right.
“Er - I’m very sorry I said you were stupid,” he said to the nearest tree. “I didn't really mean it - I’m just a bit tired.”
There was a sudden silence, when all the trees stopped talking, and for a moment Matthew wondered if he’d imagined it. Then the tree next to him said (in a gruffly wooden sort of voice) “Apology accepted. But you should be more careful what you say. You can hurt a tree’s feelings, you know.”
“Of course,” replied Matthew. “It won’t happen again.”
“Yes - well, all right then,” said the tree. There was a pause, then it added “Urm - I shouldn't have called you stupid either. Sorry. Don’t suppose it’s your fault you’re wandering about. Your sort of being has to do that sort of thing, I expect.”
“Oh, that’s all right!” Matthew was relieved that the tree wasn't angry with him. “I was just a bit lost, you see. And tired, and hungry.”
“How strange!” said another tree voice. “Lost, and tired, and hungry. We never get any of those things - and you have all of them!”
“I don’t want any of them!” Matthew explained. “I’d rather know where I was, and have a rest, and something to eat!”
“Well, I can help with the last one,” said a new tree voice. “If you like apples, that is?”
“Oh yes, I love apples!” Matthew was hungry enough to have eaten anything, even vegetables, but the thought of a nice, sweet juicy apple was enough to make him gasp with delight.
“Over here then!” called the apple tree, and the other trees joined in: “Yes - this way.” “Step that side of me.” “Come on by.” “Please excuse my roots!” As he went, the branches seemed to pull out of his way in front, and push him along from behind, so that in no time at all he was standing by the apple tree.
“You’re in luck - I've just had some come ripe! Here - catch!” Something plopped down on Matthew’s toe. “Ouch!” he said quietly, and bent to pick it up.
“Here comes another!” Warned the apple tree, just as something hit Matthew on the back of the head.
“Ahh - oooh - thanks!” he gasped. Apples started to rain down. Matthew hastily snatched up as many as he could, and retreated a little way.
“Please have some nuts as well!” said a tree behind him, and Matthew felt small hard things falling all over him.
“Thank you very much indeed,” he gasped politely, stuffing his pockets with nuts, before hastily moving again.
“I’m afraid I don’t have anything you could eat,” said a nearby voice. “Unless you care for some leaves?”
“No, that’s quite all right, thank you,” Matthew answered, glad that he wasn't under a coconut tree. He settled down, and began munching apples and nuts.
He’d always like fruit, but these apples were the sweetest, juiciest and tastiest he’d ever had. He’d have enjoyed them at any time: but as hungry as he was, he gobbled them down. He wasn't as keen on nuts, so he left those till last, and then had a closer look at them.
It wasn't easy to see in the fading light, but they weren't like any nuts he’d seen before. Instead of being all the same shape, they were a lot of different shapes: round, oval, square, triangular… Matthew had never heard of some of these shapes. And what was more, they seemed to be different colours: not just all brown, but blue and red and purple and green - and even some that were striped, or spotted.
“What sort of nuts are these?” he wondered aloud.
“They’re Whatevernuts,” said the Nut Tree.
“What are Whatevernuts?” Matthew asked.
“They’re whatever nuts you want!” the Nut Tree laughed. “Almonds, Brazils, Hazels, Walls…”
“Walls?” said Matthew, puzzled.
“Wall Nuts,” explained the Nut Tree. “Cashew Nuts, Peanuts, Peanuts (salted), Peanuts (Dry roasted)… “
“I had some peanuts in chocolate once,” Matthew remembered. “I liked those.”
“Try the stripy ones,” said the Nut Tree. “Not the straight stripes, the curly ones.”
“How do I crack the shell?”
“It’s not difficult. Just give it a little squeeze!”
Matthew squeezed a curly stripy nut, and it obligingly split open along the sides, to reveal a cluster of chocolate coated peanuts.
“Mmm -very nice - thank you!” he said with his mouth full.
“Don’t mention it!” replied the Nut Tree.
Before long, Matthew had discovered some sugared almonds (green with white spots), sweet cashews (white with pink spots) and even some mint-flavoured brazils (red and blue patches). By this time he was feeling quite full, and full of energy: his tiredness had gone completely, and he was eager to be on his way again.
Of course, eating fruit and nuts from talking trees is bound to be much better for you than normal food.
“Thank you so much!” said Matthew again, minding his manners. “I really ought to be going now - please could you show me the way to the river?”
The trees were as helpful as ever, and quickly opened up a pathway for him. In no time at all Matthew was standing on the river bank.
It was night time by now, but not as dark as you might think. There was a huge silver moon and lots of brilliant stars out, and in the bright shiny light Matthew could see the river clearly - deep and black and flashing moonlight from it’s ripples. And wide. Very wide - Matthew could barely see across to where the far bank climbed steeply up from the water.
The river gurgled and splashed cheerfully, but Matthew sat down sadly. “Oh, no!” He said. “How will I ever get across this?”
“Get across?” asked a nearby willow. “Why would you want to get across? What’s wrong with this side?”
“You don’t want to cross the river!” another tree told him. “The ogre lives over their - and he’s not nice at all!”
The trees all joined in to agree with this. “Oh no, not nice! Terrible, in fact! No manners at all - just blunders right through us! Doesn’t care who he uproots, that’s a fact! Tore my branches right off - and not a word of apology!”
“But I have to cross the river - I have to find the ogre!” Matthew explained. “To rescue the dragons the ogre swallowed!”
“Hmm - rescue dragons?” answered an Oak. “They’re not much better than ogre’s, with their fire and all.”
A shudder went through all the trees at the word ‘fire’.
“But they don’t bother us much,” said another tree voice. “Mostly, they just fly over - not like that clumsy ogre!”
The rest of the trees thought about this, with much rustling of leaves and scraping of branches, before coming to cautious agreement. “But I don’t know what we can do to help you cross the river” “We never go across!” “Still - maybe we know someone who can help!” “Who - oh yes, of course - if she’s around!” “We’ll send a message!”
“Who’s around?” asked Matthew. “What message?”
“You’ll see who,” promised the Willow. “And the message has already gone - listen!”
Matthew listened, and heard a flutter and rustling and whispering in the leaves that rushed away through the tree-tops, going up and down the river and into the distance. And before very long he heard it coming back again. When it got close enough he could make out the words. “We’ve found her - she’ll help - she’s coming - won’t be long!”
“Who?” he asked, but even as he did he heard, far up the river, a faint splashing. Faint and distant, but getting swiftly louder and closer - until round a bend in the river came a cloud of spray and moonlight: and in the middle of the spray, white and silver and as bright as the moon, was a horse.
“A horse!” Matthew shouted in excitement, but even as he did, he saw that this was no ordinary horse. For one thing, even though it was right out in the centre of the river, it wasn't swimming. Instead it was galloping across the top of the water, going so fast that it didn't even begin to sink. It’s hooves were just touching the surface, just touching it enough to kick up great misty clouds. Matthew didn't know much about horses, but he knew that normal horses swam in rivers, they didn't gallop across the surface.
And the other thing was, normal horses didn't have a long, white, twisty horn growing out of the centre of their heads - which meant that this horse was…
“A unicorn!” gasped Matthew.
“A unicorn!” the trees agreed. “Welcome, Shalma!”
The unicorn leapt up from the river in one final burst of shimmering silver spray, and stood in front of Matthew. She shone so bright in the moonlight, that Matthew had trouble seeing her properly: parts of her mane and tail seemed to float away and become moonbeams when he wasn't looking straight at them. She was very big - not as big as Alsaro, or as big as the Ogre, but her legs were taller than Matthew was, and when she bent her neck to look down at him, her head was as big as Matthew’s whole body. Silver light ran up and down the long horn - the sharp point was closer to him than he really liked - and Shalma’s eyes were bright blue.
“Hello, trees,” she said. There was a sort of a neigh and a whinny in her voice, as you might expect from a horse: but there was also a musical sort of sound, like someone almost singing, and instruments almost playing - and you would not expect that from anyone but a unicorn.
“Hello Shalma!” answered the trees. “This is Matthew.”
“I thought it must be.” Shalma nodded her head. “There can’t be many little boys out along the Magic River tonight - and even less wanting help to go into the Ogre’s country.” She lay down by the river bank. “Why don’t you tell me all about it, Matthew.”
So Matthew told her the whole story, right from the time he’d left home to look for dragons.
“Of course,” he finished, “I must try and rescue Alsaro. I made a promise. Will you be able to help me, Shalma?”
“Hmm.” Shalma thought about it. “I suppose I could take you to the Ogre’s Castle. It’s not far - not for me, at least, though it would take you a long time. But I couldn't help you beyond that. I’m far too fast for an ogre to catch, and he would never trick me as he did the dragons - but if he got hold of me, I’d be swallowed just as quickly as they were. Ogre’s will swallow anything - and unicorn horns are no more to them than dragons fire.”
“Do you know anything about the ogre’s buttons?” asked Matthew hopefully.
Shalma gave a little horsey laugh. “Why would I need to know anything about buttons?”
“But I must find out what Alsaro meant!” said Matthew. “It’s the only chance I have to rescue the dragons.”
“Dragons are very old.” Said Shalma. “Even older than unicorns. They know a lot of strange things and if Alsaro said the ogre has a button, then I expect he does. But you will have to find it yourself. I can only take you to Grum’s Castle - if you’re sure you want to go?”
Matthew took a deep breath. “Yes,” he said bravely. “I have to.”
“Climb on my back then.”
It wasn't easy for Matthew to reach the Unicorns back, even when she was laying down. The trees had to push some roots up to make steps for him, and even so it was a scramble. But finally he found himself sitting on Shalma’s broad, smooth back, clinging to her silvery mane.
“Ready?” she asked, and stood up. Matthew gulped: suddenly he was a long way off the ground. He gripped Shalma’s mane as tightly as he could.
“Don’t worry, I won’t drop you!” she promised. “Bye trees - here we go!”
Matthew had never been in a rocket: but if he had, it couldn’t have been faster than Shalma. Before he realised that she had even started, she was already halfway across the river, leaving spray behind. By the time the trees called “Bye Shalma - bye Matthew - good luck!” she was already galloping up the far bank, going as quickly as if it had been flat.
And then they reached the level ground beyond, and Shalma gave a shrill whinny, put her head down, and went!
Tucked down as low as he could go, and hanging on with all his strength, Matthew hardly saw any of the country they were passing. It was just a dark blur around him and a cloud of dust behind him, as the wind Shalma was making howled in his ears. At first he was so frightened that he couldn't speak, or he would have asked her to stop and let him walk. He felt sure that at any minute the wind would catch him and blow him off, or there would be a bump and he would lose his grip. And he didn't want to think of what falling off at that speed would do to him.
But gradually he realised that the wind was all round him, but it never touched him: and that there were no bumps at all, not even little ones. Shalma’s back was a smooth and quiet and steady as if they were still standing in the trees by the river. Even when she jumped over a big pile of rocks, Matthew hardly noticed, and he began to realise that when she’d said that he shouldn't worry, she’d meant it.
So he relaxed a bit, and sat up cautiously, and looked around.
It was hard to see much, between darkness and speed, but he soon realised that this country was different from the other side of the river. There were no trees, and not even much grass. All he could see, in fact, was rocks and stones - big rocks on stony ground, small rocks on big rocks, stones on rocks and stones on stones.
“Where are we?” he asked. “It doesn't look like anywhere nice.”
“Nowhere nice at all!“ Shalma told him. “Once this was as pleasant a land as any. A wild land, to be sure, but plenty of grass and trees and animals.”
“What happened to it?”
Shalma snorted. “The ogre happened to it! When Grombold Grum moved in, he set about swallowing every animal he could catch. The ones he couldn't catch moved away. He ripped up all the trees to make big fires - not that he had any need for them, he just likes fires. He trampled down the grass and the bushes, and filled the streams with his rubbish, until there was nothing left but rock and sand!” The unicorn whinnied angrily. “An ogre is a disaster wherever it lives. And when Grum is finished with this land, he’ll go and do the same somewhere else! He’ll never be satisfied - he’s just a huge appetite that wants to swallow everything!”
Shalma had been slowing down as she talked, but now she came to a full stop - as smoothly as ever, of course, so that Matthew wasn't thrown off - and turned her head to look at him.
“So I hope you succeed in freeing the dragons, Matthew. Not just for them, but for all of us. That ogre must be stopped!”
“I’ll try,” said Matthew, thinking that now he had made that promise twice, once to a dragon and once to a unicorn.
“Good! That’s all anyone can do.” Shalma nodded. Then she lay down. “But it’s time to get off now. We’re here!”
“Where?” Asked Matthew, looking round. It was very dark. The moon had set during their journey, and the only light was from the stars.
From the stars - and, Matthew realised, from a dim orange glow somewhere ahead of them.
“There in front of us.” Said Shalma. “The ogre’s castle.”
Peering through the gloom, Matthew could make out the top of high black walls. The orange glow came from somewhere behind them. “Did Grombold Grum build this?” he wondered.
“Oh no! Ogre’s build nothing, not even especially cunning ones like this Grum! People built this place, Matthew. People like you, who lived here long ago. They moved away, but left behind their great stone walls - empty, until the Ogre moved in.”
Matthew carefully climbed off Shalma’s back. Standing on his own feet again, he felt very small, and the castle walls looked very, very high.
“Are you coming with me?” he asked the unicorn hopefully.
“I’m sorry, Matthew.” Shalma said sadly. “I cannot run up walls so high and smooth. And the Ogre has filled the old gate way with rocks and rubble. He can push that aside when he wants to go in and out, but no one else has his strength. Not even a Unicorn.”
“Then how can I get in? I’m only a little boy!”
“Yes, indeed - and that is why you might be able to find a way in, where no one else can. The ogre piles his rocks carelessly! He will leave holes, small gaps that a little boy could get through. It’s up to you to find a way.”
The thought of leaving Shalma behind and going alone into that dark castle made Matthew feel a little shaky. “But - even if I do get inside, what can I do then?”
“Do what the dragon told you!” she answered gently. “Find the Ogre’s button, whatever that is. He will be sound asleep. He spent the whole day swallowing dragons, with only a little rest before he had Alsaro for desert. That’s a big meal, even for an Ogre! He won’t be easily woken up, not until he gets hungry again. So this is your best chance ever, Matthew.”
Matthew took a deep breath. “Well, I did promise to try. I promised twice.” He reached up , and stroked Shalma’s nose. “Thank you for the ride. It was incredible!”
“You’re welcome. Goodbye now, and good luck.”
She stood up, and turned to go. “Oh - and watch out for Mothsps. They often hang round Ogres. Not nice things.”
“What are Mothsps? I’ve never heard of them before,” Matthew asked in puzzlement.
“They’re night time wasps,” Shalma answered. “Bye now!”
And in a flash of silver light, she streaked away from him, and was gone.
“Mothsps.” Matthew said to himself. “As if finding the ogre’s button wasn't enough, I've got to look out for Mothsps. I only wanted to see a dragon!”
With a sigh, he turned towards the castle and began walking.
As he got closer, the glow of the ogre’s fire became brighter, so that Matthew could see the broken, crumbling top of the old walls. But it was even darker at the bottom, and he tripped and stumbled over the rough ground before he finally touched the hard stone of the castle.
“Which way to the gate?” he wondered. One way seemed as good as another, so he went right, and felt his way along until at last he found a gateway. As Shalma had said, it had been filled up with rocks. There were holes between the rocks, some big enough for Matthew, but it wasn’t easy to find the right one. The ogre’s fire was at the other end of the castle, and there was no light at all in the gateway. Matthew had to scramble and feel his way in the darkness. Before long, his hands and knees were badly scratched, and it hurt a lot. Once he almost got stuck in a narrow place and only just managed to pull himself out. But at long last, he found a way to the top of the rock pile, and just between the rocks and the roof was a little space just large enough for him to crawl through. With a gasp of relief he came out of the hole and found himself, at last, inside the castle.
He was looking out at a wide courtyard between the walls. Once other buildings had stood here, but all that was left was crumbling ruins. Another high wall stood across the far side of the courtyard: in the middle was an open door way, and bright firelight flicked and glowed through it.
“Nearly there.” Matthew said with satisfaction. “But oh - what is that smell?”
Now he was through the gateway, he could smell the most horrible stink he had ever smelled in his life. It was like his little brothers pooey nappies, wrapped in his dads sweaty socks, that the cat had been sick on. Only worse. It was like the piece of fish that had got stuck behind the radiator for a week, it was like the dead rat that Tom’s friend had given him to keep under his bed, it was - it was the smell of an Ogre’s toilet. Which, Matthew realised, is what Grombold Grum used the courtyard for.
Trying very hard not to be sick himself, Matthew clambered down from the gateway, and began to cross the courtyard - taking care to avoid any suspicious looking piles on the way. He was so busy not being sick and trying to see what he was stepping in, that he forget all about the mothsps.
Until, that is, something big and white floated up from ground ahead of him with fluttery buzzing noise, and started to drift towards him.
Two more appeared either side of him. Then he heard buzzing behind him. Matthew forget about the smell.
The ones in front came closer, until Matthew could see them quite well, even in the dim light. They were the biggest insects Matthew had ever seen - as big as his head, or bigger, flying with long wings that moved so fast they were a blur. They were white all over - not bright silvery-white like Shalma, but soft, dull greyish white, like dirty rags. They had huge black eyes, with ugly little mouths underneath, mouths that were moving all the time - sucking and blowing and wriggling like old men trying to find their teeth. They had long spindly legs with sharp looking claws dangling down from their bodies: and worst of all, behind them were thick, black stingers, as long as Matthew’s arm.
Mothsps, for sure. Matthew had never liked insects, not even little ones without stings. These made him so scared that he hardly even dared to breath. “Perhaps…” he thought to himself “…perhaps if I stand perfectly still and don’t move anything, perhaps they won’t see me. Or perhaps they might just think I’m a big rock. Perhaps they might go away.”
But they didn’t go away. They hovered and buzzed and circled round him, getting closer and closer. And then one of them spoke, in a nasty buzzy voice.
“Whattzzz thizzz thennzz?” it asked. “Whatsss it dooingzzz here in the Ogrezzz cazzztle?”
Matthew shut his eyes and said nothing.
“Can’t itzzz talkzzz?” said another mothsp.
“It’zzz shut it’zz eyesss!” buzzed another. “Is it assspleepzzz?”
“A little ssstingzz will wakezzz itzz up!” another one suggested. The mothsps liked that idea, and there was a lot of buzzy laughter. Matthew didn’t like it at all, and forced himself to open his eyes.
“No - please don’t sting me!” he yelled. “I’m awake!”
“Awakezzz, isss itzz!” buzzed a mothsp behind him. “Izzz rudess to pretendzzz to be asleepzzz when wezzz talking to itzzz!”
“Sorry - I didn’t mean to be rude!” said Matthew quickly.
“Sayzz sorry nowzz.” From a Mothsp in front. “Butzz what issss itzz, anywayzzz?”
“I - I’m a little bo,” said Matthew. “My name is Matthew.”
“And whatzzz a little boyzzz doingzzz here?”
“I’m looking for the ogre. To set the dragons free.” Too late, Matthew thought that perhaps these horrible mothsps were more likely to be friends to the ogre than to the dragons: and sure enough, there was a sudden storm of loud and angry buzzing.
“Nazzty little boyzzz!” buzzed the Mothsps. “Naughty boyzzz, to set dragonzz free!” “We protect the ogrezzz while he sleepzzz, yessss we do!” “Ogre feedzzz usss.”
Then the mothsps began discussing what to do about Matthew. “Wakezz the ogrezz - he swallowzzz naughty boy!” “Put himzz on ogrezzz fire! Burn himzzz up!” “Drop stonezzz on him, sqaushhh himzz flat.”
Matthew went cold and shivery with fright as he heard all these terrible ideas being considered for him. But the worst one was what most of the mothsps wanted to do, and gradually they all came to agree on it. “Stingzzz him! Stingzzz him so he doezzn’t move, then suck himzz dry!” “Yezzz, Yezzz!” the mothsps agreed. “Niccce boyzz!” “Juicyzzz boyzz!” “Tasssty boyzz!”
And all at once they began to close in on Matthew from all sides.
“No!” he shouted. Scared as he was, he wasn’t going to stand still and let them sting him. He wanted to run, but the mothsps were all around him, and they could move faster than he could.
“Help!” he shouted “Help - Shalma! Help!” Even though he knew that Shalma was far away by now, and couldn’t have got in the Castle anyway.
The Mothsps paused, but only for a moment. “No helpzz here for youzzz, boy Matthew.” They laughed their buzzy laugh at him, and came closer.
Matthew whirled round, trying to watch all the Mothsps at once. Something moved under his foot. He reached down, and snatched up the stone he had picked up. Without stopping to think about it, he through it as hard as he could at the nearest mothsp.
Matthew was a strong little boy, and he could throw very hard. His stone hit the mothsp smack in the mouth. With a shriek, it fell to the ground, and lay there twitching and buzzing.
The other mothsps hastily moved back again. But they didn’t go away, and now they were very angry.
“Nassty boyzzz!” they shouted at him. “Cruel little boyzzz!” “We’ll stingzzz youzz for that!” “We stingzz you lotzzz!”
Matthew bent down and picked up as many stones as he could find, and begin flinging them at the mothsps. He wasn’t nearly as scared, now he knew that the mothsps could be hurt.
But the Mothsps were being careful to stay at a safe distance. They began flying more quickly, buzzing round and round Matthew, dodging quickly whenever he threw a stone. Try as he might, he couldn’t hit another one, and before long he had run out of stones! He knelt down and felt around him frantically, but there were no more stones nearby. And the Mothsps began coming closer again, laughing and buzzing at him as they did.
He could feel the wind from their wings now, and they were buzzing so loudly that it made his teeth shake. One of them dipped down and gave his hair a tug with its claws, then zipped away laughing when he hit at it. Another one came up behind him at pulled at his clothes! They were playing with him, but he knew that at any moment they would start stinging - and he didn’t have anything to even hit them with!
Matthew spun round, whirling his arms to keep them off. As he did, he felt something under his t-shirt, something he’d put there to keep safe, something he’d almost forgotten about.
With a gasp, he pulled up his shirt and grabbed at Alsaro’s scale.
It had been warm when he’d found it - it was still warm now, from being close to his body - but somehow, it felt even warmer than it should be. And instead of being hard to see in the darkness, it shone with a soft golden glow. Matthew could see properly again - and he saw a mothsp, sneaking up on him out of the dark.
With a shout, Matthew hit out at the huge insect with the dragon scale in his hand. The Mothsp buzzed sideways, but the tip of the scale touched the edge of it’s wing. There was a bright golden spark, a burning smell, and a terrible scream from the Mothsp as it fell to the ground with it’s wings all black and crispy.
A cry of terror came from the Mothsps. “Dragonzzz fire!” they screeched. “Dragonzz scale!” “Dragonzz - dragonzzz - terrible dragonzzz!”
Matthew jumped at them, lashing out with his dragon scale and shouting at the top of his voice. The scale glowed and sparked, mothsps hissed and sizzled and howled in pain. The light from the scale blinded them, and they flew in every direction trying to get away. Some of them flew into each other, and began stinging each other in panic! Wherever the scale touched them, or even came close, sparks flew, and mothsps burned.
In a few moments, it was over. Most of the mothsps had fled in panic, flying as far and as fast as they could to get away. The only ones left were dead, their smoking bodies lying all over the courtyard.
“Wow!” said Matthew, looking at the scale. “Thanks, Alsaro.” The golden glow had faded to a faint glitter now. Carefully, Matthew tucked it back inside his t-shirt, and started on the last part of his journey: for he knew that within the fire-lit doorway ahead was Grombold Grum the Ogre.
Once there had been a great hall beyond the doorway, a huge room where Knights had feasted and Lords had ruled. But most of the ceiling had fallen down long ago. There were piles of old, mossy stones all across the floor, and looking up Matthew could see the stars. There were only a few places around the edge of the room where a little bit of roof still stuck out. Under one of them was the fire: a huge, roaring blaze where whole tree trunks were burning. It was so hot that it made Matthew gasp for breath, even though it was all the way over on the wall to his left.
To his right, under the other bit of roof, was the ogre.
He was as big, and as ugly, as Matthew remembered. In fact, if anything, he was even bigger and uglier, because he had undone his rope. And opened his blanket. And out had flopped a huge, fat, bulging, quivering, pink and purple belly!
It was so big that Matthew couldn’t even see the top of it. It was so big that it even covered the ogre’s knees. It was so big that it didn’t seem to part of the ogre at all - it looked as a if a big pink hill had fallen on top of Grombold Grum while he slept, and had nearly squashed him.
But when Grum snored, the whole hill quivered. Matthew thought of a huge strawberry and blackcurrant mousse. “But it smells as though the mousse has gone off!” he said to himself, wrinkling his nose. This close, the ogre smelt as bad as he looked. It was just like the mothsps courtyard, only a lot stronger, and with a little hint of rotten fruit to go with it. He had to hold his nose just to be able to stand there.
“Now, where is that button?” he asked himself. Matthew wanted nothing more than to turn around and run out to some fresher, cooler air: but he had come too far and made too many promises to go back now. So, holding his nose, he began to creep slowly along the wall, trying to get closer to the ogre without getting too close.
Ordinary buttons, as Matthew knew well, came with clothes. Shirts had lots of them, coats had a few of them, and trousers usually had one of them. Mummy had some dresses with buttons: but the ogre had only worn his filthy blanket, and that had been held together by a rope, not buttons.
“Sometimes clothes button at the back.” Matthew remembered. Perhaps the ogre’s blanket had some buttons there? But Grum was laying on top of his blanket - so how was he to see if they were there or not?
Matthew stepped a little closer. The closer he got, the worse the smell was - and the louder the snores were. They made the stones shake under his feet, and his head started to ache. He was still holding his nose, but now he wished he had a spare hand to put over his ears. And he still couldn’t see any buttons at all.
Then Grombold Grum coughed.
“KKKRRAAGGGH!!” It was like an explosion. It was so loud that Matthew was knocked over backwards, and hit his head on the stone floor, which hurt a lot and made him a bit dizzy. But worse was to come. As Matthew staggered to his feet, Grum lifted his huge hand to wipe at his mouth. And his eyes flickered open.
Matthew froze, not daring to move, as Grum rubbed his nose, wiped his eyes, and scratched his belly. Then he yawned - his huge mouth opening so wide that his head disappeared from sight, all but the tip of his nose - and to Matthew’s relief, he closed his eyes again. And started to snore.
And his hand flopped down, right towards Matthew.
If he had been just the slightest instant slower, Matthew would have been squashed to jelly: but just in time he dived forwards, and rolled as fast as he could - and SMACK! The ogre’s hand slammed into the stones right by Matthew’s feet.
Shaking, Matthew slowly stood up again. Now, he thought, he really would run away: there was nothing he could do here, he couldn’t even see any buttons, and if he stayed much longer he’d be squashed, or deafened, or choked by the smell. One last time, he looked up at the huge fleshy mound that was Grombold Grum’s belly.
And this time he saw it.
After his cough and scratch and yawn, Grum had moved a bit in his sleep. Not much. He’d just rolled over a little way. Just enough so that Matthew could get a glimpse of the top of his belly. Just enough that Matthew could see, right on the highest, pinkest, peak, a large, white, round…
“Button!” gasped Matthew in astonishment. “His Special Button! Of course! It’s his Belly Button!”
Dragons, as Alsaro had said, didn’t have them. Neither did people - not like this one. For this was truly a button - and now Matthew could see how it held together two enormous flaps of pink and purple skin: one at the top, and one at the bottom of the ogre’s belly. He could also see that it was being pulled very tight, just like one Daddy’s shirts, before Mummy put him on a diet.
There was no more thought of running away now. Matthew knew that he had to get to that button - but it was very high up, and he could only see one way to get there.
“Don’t think about it,” he said to himself. “Just do it. Run as fast as Shalma. Fly like a dragon. You promised! So do it.”
He took a deep breath, ignoring the smell, and then began to run as fast as he could. Straight at the ogre.
Matthew was a fast runner. Not quite as fast as Tom, who had longer legs, but very fast for his age. He was already going well when he reached Grum’s hand, still laying on the floor where the ogre had put it: with the biggest jump he could manage, Matthew leapt right up onto it - and carried on running, all the way up the arm.
He had to slow down a bit as he reached the shoulder, because it became a lot steeper, and hairier. By the time he reached the top, and got on to Grum’s chest, he was walking, struggling to push his way through the tangle of thick, black, greasy hair. Some of the hairs were as thick as his legs, and taller than his head: it was hard work. But eventually he found himself at the ogre’s belly.
Now he began to wish for more hair to hold on to, but instead it was all smooth, quivering skin. And very steep. Soon, Matthew was climbing on hands and knees, struggling to get a grip. His arms and legs were aching, but he couldn’t stop. He was very high up now - so high that he didn’t dare to look down - and he knew that if he slipped and fell off, it would be the end of him.
“I promised!” he reminded himself, as he climbed. “I promised!”
To his relief, Matthew found that it got easier to climb as he got nearer the top. It wasn't as steep here, and there were a few wispy hairs to hold onto.
Until, at last, he could see in front of him something white and flat and round.
“The button!” Matthew gasped, and just then Grombold Grum moved in his sleep again.
Not much - not even as much as last time. But for a small boy standing on his belly, it was like an earthquake in a jelly factory. Everything shook under his feet, and for a moment Matthew was sure that he was going to be sent slipping and sliding to the floor.
“No!” he shouted. “Not now!” And he threw himself forward. His fingers just reached the edge of the Belly Button: with aching arms he hung on to it, until the ogre settled again and the belly stopped moving as much.
Then he stood up, and looked down at the button.
It was certainly the biggest button that he’d ever seen. It was flat, and white, and round, and hard, and as big across as his whole body. “How am I going to undo that?” he thought. “I don’t know,” he answered himself. “But I am!” And he set to work.
Matthew had told Alsaro that he wasn't good with buttons. The truth was, he couldn't really be bothered with them. They were fiddly little things, mostly, and trying to do them up or undo them took too much time when he wanted to play. But now he had to undo this button, and he hoped he was better at it than he’d said.
He tried pushing it, and pulling it, and twisting it, and kicking it. None of these did any good at all. But it did to disturb Grombold Grum, who seemed to be very sensitive in that area. Several times he twitched and shook and wriggled in his sleep, and each time Matthew had to hold tight to the button to avoid being knocked off.
The third time it happened, Matthew’s face came close to a long, thin line in the ogre’s skin. All at once, Matthew recognised it: this was the Button Hole!
That made the job a little easier, because now Matthew could see which way the button had to go. Getting his fingers underneath one edge, he began to lift it, and at the same time tried to twist it round to fit the button’s edge into the hole.
Even in his sleep, Grombold Grum did not like that at all! He groaned, and a huge hand came up to prod at the irritation on his belly.
Fortunately for Matthew, Grum was still asleep, and a small boy is not easy to find with your eyes shut. The ogre’s fingers swept over Matthew’s head, and poked at the skin on the other side of the Button.
Which opened the Button Hole a little bit more. Enough so that Matthew could see that it went down, down, down into deep, black depths inside the ogre. But he didn't stop to look. With a great heave, he lifted the button a bit more, until it was up to his knees - and a bit more, up to his waist - and twisted it a bit - and pushed - and pushed and …
Suddenly, the button began to move, to slide forward, to slip into the deep black Button Hole. Matthew began to tumble forwards, his legs slipped, and he felt himself falling, following the Button into it’s Hole… he shouted something - but he couldn’t hear himself, because just then Grombold Grum the ogre came wide awake, and realised what was happening, and ROARRRED!
The sound was so loud that the ancient stone walls of the castle were blown apart by it, and were sent flying away in every direction. The huge fire was shattered into flying sparks by the noise. Far away, Shalma heard the sound, and whinnied in joy, knowing what it meant. Even further away, the trees heard it as well, and chattered excitedly about it.
But in the castle, Matthew had no time to think about the fact that he probably been made quite deaf by the noise. Because Grum’s great hands were reaching up and grabbing for him!
But no - not for him, he realised. Instead, Grum was desperately grabbing at the edges of his belly, trying to grab hold of them and hold them together while he did up his Button again. In that moment, Matthew felt a little bit sorry for the ogre: no matter how unpleasant Grum was, it couldn't have been nice to wake up and find that someone had undone his Belly Button.
And it was too late for the ogre now. Even as he grabbed, the button slipped all the way through the hole.
And the huge belly - burst open.
The two flaps of skin sprang apart with a loud twang, and Matthew was flung high into the air. He went up and up, turning over and over, and every time he could look down he saw the great hole in the ogre’s belly getting wider and wider. Inside, there seemed at first to be nothing but a vast black emptiness: but then he saw, deep inside, a golden glint. Which grew bigger, and grew wings - great golden wings, that stretched across the ogre’s belly - and Alsaro the Golden burst free with a scream of joy.
“I did it!” thought Matthew in amazement. “Alsaro!” he shouted. “I did it!”
“I’m FRREEE!” Alsaro boomed. “FREEEEEEE!”
Just then, Matthew realised that he was no longer going up and up into the air: instead, he had started to fall - and it was a very long way down.
“Alsaro!” he shouted. “Help!”
“Matthew?” Alsaro looked around, and looked down.
“Up here!” Matthew screamed. “No - over here! No - DOWN HERE!” he yelled at the top of his voice as he fell past the Dragon.
“Matthew!” Just in time, Alsaro caught a glimpse of a small boy, falling out of the air. With a neat little mid-air flip, he reversed direction, dived, and snatched him gently out of the air with a taloned claw.
“I didn’t know you could fly!” chuckled the golden dragon.
“I can’t!” Matthew said shakily.
“Ahh - but then, you told me you weren't good at buttons either, but you seemed to have managed this one!”
“I can do buttons if I really want to.” Matthew admitted. “But - are you all right?”
“Yes - I am! Never better, now I’m free! And my family are saved as well - thanks to you! Look!”
Matthew looked down, and saw other dragons emerging from the huge black hole of the ogre’s belly. Lot’s of dragons: old ones, young ones, big ones, small ones - but all golden. Some, those who had been swallowed longest, had lost their shine, and were so weak that they needed help to fly out: but all were alive, and Alsaro promised Matthew that all would be quite recovered in time.
“It looks very - deep.” Matthew said, looking down into the belly.
“Inside every ogre is an emptiness that goes on for ever.” Alsaro explained. “The more they feed it, the more it grows - so an ogre’s appetite gets bigger and bigger, and they can never satisfy it for long.”
“What will happen to Grum now?”
“Look!” said Alsaro, and pointed with his free claw.
The last of the golden dragons had been helped out of the Belly, and as he came free, the whole great mound of flesh began to collapse, like a balloon with a slow leak. At first, Matthew thought that it would end up laying flat on the floor, but then he realised that it was falling into the great hole: Grumbold Grum was falling into himself!
Faster and faster it went: first the belly disappeared, then the hairy chest, and beard, and shoulders and legs - pink skin and black hair falling down and down into the empty black hole: then the feet and hands and mouth and ears and the pointy bald head last of all - and then all there was a big, empty hole in the air. Which shrank and shriveled and finally disappeared altogether with a faint pop!
All that was left of Grumbold Grum the Ogre was an extremely dirty blanket and a very bad smell.
“What happened?” asked Matthew. “Where did it go?”
“An ogre is nothing but an appetite.” Alsaro told him. “When there is nothing else to feed it, it feeds on itself.”
“But.. I don’t understand.”
“The Ogre is gone, and we are free! Isn't that enough to understand? Forget the rest, Matthew. And let’s get away from here and forget this horrible smell!”
With that, Alsaro gave a great thrust of his wings, and shot high into the air, with all the Golden Dragons following. In no time at all, the shattered castle had disappeared into the darkness behind them, and they were flying swiftly through the night sky.
As they flew, Matthew told Alsaro of all his adventures. The dragon was very impressed, and promised to give the Talking Trees and Shalma the unicorn his thanks for their help.
“But you are the hero of this tale, Matthew!” he said. “If you had not kept your promise, we would never have been freed. The Golden Dragons are in your debt!”
It was getting lighter now, and as they swept down and landed, Matthew saw that they were once more on the hillside where he had first seen Alsaro. The broken piece of chain was still there, and the rock where he had hidden. It seemed like a long time ago.
Alsaro set Matthew down gently. All the other dragons had landed and stood around him: all shining golden scales, and smoking nostrils, and sharp claws and pointy teeth and vast wings.
“Matthew,” said Alsaro, “for the great thing you have done for us, we name you Dragon Friend: and that is a great honour, which few men have ever earned: and never before has a small boy been so named. Remember, we owe you a very great debt, and should you ever have need of us, we will be ready to help. And any time you wish to once more visit us in Dragon Home, you need only grasp hold of the scale I left you, and repeat the rhyme you learned.”
“Far beyond the sunset,
High above the moon,
Fly the great-winged dragons
On their way to dragon-home” Matthew said. “I’ll remember!”
Then he had another thought. “But I don’t think that Mummy and Daddy will let me come again,” he said sadly. “I must be very late home by now - I’m sure to be in a lot of trouble!”
Alsaro laughed a soft, rumbling laugh. “Time is different here, as much else is! I think, that when you go back round the hill, you will find it is not much later than when you left. Hurry now - and you may even be in time for tea!”
“Tea!” Thinking of it, Matthew suddenly felt very hungry. It was a long time since his meal of apples and whatevernuts, and even food from talking trees cannot last for ever.
“Bye, then!” Matthew started walking off round the hill. From behind him came a chorus of loud dragon cries “Goodbye, Matthew! Goodbye, Dragon Friend! Come again!”
He turned and waved to all the Golden Dragons: then carried on, round the hill. As he did so there was a sudden thunderous roar of dragon wings beating, of dragons leaping into the sky, and he turned to see them go. But it was too late: the dragons had already gone, and all that was left was the empty hillside, peaceful in the evening sunlight.
“On their way to Dragon Home.” Matthew said to himself. He reached beneath his t-shirt and felt the warm, smooth dragon scale. Then he ran off down the hill, on the way to his home for tea.
In fact, he was interested in a lot of things, including all sorts of animals - not just dragons. He liked to pet dogs he met in the street, even though his Mummy told him it was dangerous. He liked to look at cows and horses in the fields, and to watch wild animals on TV. The family had an old cat called Elliot, and Matthew loved Elliot so much that he often carried the cat round the house with him. Elliot didn’t always like this, and had been known to scratch Matthew, but Matthew still loved him, and took him round the house anyway to show that there was no hard feelings.
But one day, Daddy read Matthew a book about dragons. It had a wonderful picture of a huge, golden dragon: all wings and claws and shiny scales. It was breathing real flames and looked very fierce and very beautiful all at the same time. Matthew loved it at once.
“Are all dragons like that?” he asked Daddy.
Daddy scratched his head. “Well - they come in different colours. Some are gold like this one, but there are also red dragons, and black dragons, and blue dragons and green dragons… Maybe other colours as well. But they all breath fire, or most of them do, and they can usually fly.”
“Can we have one?” asked Matthew.
Daddy laughed. “I don’t think so. A dragon would scare Elliot, and besides, we don’t have room to keep it.”
“Perhaps when Elliot’s dead? And if we move to a bigger house? Please, Daddy!”
“No. Even a big house wouldn't be big enough. A dragon would break the door down trying to get in, and if it could get in, it’s hot breath would mess up the wallpaper. And it’s time for your bath now - up you go!”
Matthew went upstairs for his bath. “Mummy,” he asked “can we have a dragon when Elliot’s dead? Just a small one - and we could keep it in the garden.”
Mummy smiled. “Your Dad’s been reading you stories, hasn't he! But it is just a story, Matt. There aren't any real dragons. Now let me wash your hair.”
Matthew wanted to ask how come Daddy knew so much about dragons if they weren't real. But Mummy had poured water all over his head and he couldn't open his mouth without drowning.
Next morning, after Daddy had gone to work, Matthew got out the dragon book and looked at the picture. The more he looked at it, the more interested he was in dragons, and the more he wanted to see one for himself.
But how could he find one?
He thought of asking his big brother Tom about dragons. But Tom might just laugh at him, and then they’d have to have a fight. Not that he minded having a fight with Tom, but it made Mummy cross, especially when she was trying to get Tom ready for school.
There was nothing else to do but to go and look for dragons himself, Matthew decided. So he packed his bag with a drink and a biscuit, and told Mummy that he was going to look for dragons.
Mummy was washing. And ironing shirts. And feeding the cat. And answering the telephone. It was always a good time to tell her you were going to do something.
“Yes, dear. Mind the roads, and be back for dinner,” she said, putting the cat food by the telephone and the cat on the ironing board.
So Matthew went off to look for dragons.
An old woman was walking up the street towards him. Matthew wondered if she knew anything about dragons.
“’scuse me” he asked politely. “Do you know where I can find a dragon!”
She glared at him. “Cheeky monkey,” she muttered as she went by.
“Is that yes or no?” Matthew wondered aloud. He carried on down the street.
The postman was coming along on his bike. Matthew thought that he’d be sure to know if anyone did. Perhaps he knew the dragon's address?
When he got of his bike to deliver some letters, Matthew went up to him. “Ah - beg your pardon, Mr Postman - do you happen to know where the dragons live?”
The Postman laughed. “I know a few dragons - but not the sort you mean!”
Matthew was getting a bit confused. “I’m not sure what sort I mean - so what sort do you mean?” he asked, but the postman got back on his bike and rode off.
Matthew carried on down the street, and along the next one. An old man was leaning on his garden gate, watching Matthew.
“I’ll have one last try.” Matthew said to himself. He went up to the old man. “Good morning.” he said.
The old man nodded. “Good morning to you,” he answered. “And where are you off to, young man?”
“I’m a little boy, not a young man,” Matthew explained “And I’m looking for dragons. I wonder - do you know where I can find them?”
The old man sucked his teeth, scratched his chin, and looked into the distance. “Dragons, eh? Well now… what do I remember about dragons?” Matthew waited patiently, while the old man thought.
“There was a rhyme… I haven’t heard it in years. How did it go?”
“I don’t know,” answered Matthew.
“Something like this.” said the old man. He leaned over the gate. “Listen carefully now… ‘High above the sunset, far beyond the moon’ - oh, no, it’s the other way round.
Far beyond the sunset
High above the moon
Fly the great-winged dragons
On their way to dragon-home.
And that’s all I know about it, I’m afraid.”
“Oh. Thank you very much.” Matthew said politely.
“You’re welcome.” The old man answered. “Let me know if you find any dragons, won’t you?” He went back up his garden and into his house.
Matthew walked on down the road, thinking about the old man’s rhyme. It was the best clue he’d had yet, but he wasn't sure that it really helped. ‘Beyond the sunset’ sounded too far to walk, and he didn't have any bus fare: while “High above the moon” was impossible without a rocket.
Or was it? Suddenly, Matthew remembered something that Grandma had said. She’d been telling Mummy something while Matthew played, so he hadn't really been listening - but he was almost sure that she’d said she was ‘over the moon’. He’d meant to ask how she managed it, but had forgotten about it. Perhaps now was a good time to ask. In any case, Grandma was nearly as old as the old man, or perhaps older, so she might know something about dragons herself.
Matthew set off for Grandma’s house.
When he got there, he knocked on the door. “Hello, Grandma, it’s Matthew” he called out. “Can I come in?”
Grandma opened the door. “Hello, Matthew. Where’s your Mummy?”
“Mummy’s at home. I came to see you by myself,” Matthew explained. “I’m looking for dragons.”
“You’re looking for dragons, and so you came to see me?” asked Grandma. “And does Mummy know where you are?”
“I told her where I was going,” Matthew answered. “Can I have an apple?”
“Of course, dear.” Grandma got him an apple, and a drink. And a piece of cake. “Now then, Matthew - why do you want to know about dragons?”
So Matthew told her all about the book, and the picture, and about the old man and his rhyme. “I heard you tell Mummy about being ‘over the moon’” Matthew went on. “And that’s the way to dragon-land. So please could you tell me how you got over the moon?”
Grandma laughed. “Well, Matthew, I’m afraid that being ‘over the moon’ doesn't mean really going there! It’s something we say when we feel good about something, or when something wonderful happens.”
Matthew thought about it. “So if I’m feeling really happy, then I can get ‘over the moon?’”
Grandma nodded. “Something like that. Over the moon is in your head and your heart.”
“And if I was really, really happy, would I be ‘beyond the sunset’?”
“Well, I've never heard of it - but I expect so!”
Matthew finished his cake, said thank you to Grandma, and set off on his dragon hunt. As he walked along, he was trying very hard to think happy thoughts, but how ever happy he felt, he didn't seem any closer to the moon.
“Perhaps I need to be a bit higher to start with,” he thought. “If I climb up to the top of the hill, then think my happiest thoughts, that will give me the best chance of getting over the moon.”
It was a long, hard climb to the top of the hill, and by the time he got there Matthew felt too hot and tired to think happy thoughts. But he settled down on a soft bit of grass under a tree, lay back, and had a very good try at it.
He thought of birthdays, and birthday parties, and Christmas, and Christmas presents. And Christmas cake. And cake of all sorts. And food of all sorts. And he yawned.
He felt a bit happier, but very sleepy, and it didn't seem to be getting him any closer to the moon.
“How did that rhyme go again?” he thought to himself. Leaning back on the tree, he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate.
“Far beyond the sunset
High above the moon
Fly the great-winged Dragons
On their way to Dragon-home”
“Dragon home. Great winged dragons…”
Matthew tried to repeat the rhyme again, but all who he could think of was the great, golden dragons, their wings beating powerfully as they flew home. They made a loud woosh-wosh noise on each strong beat, a noise which seemed to grow louder and louder until his head was so filled with the sound that there was no room for anything else, not even a thought.
Suddenly, Matthew sat straight upright, his eyes wide open. The sound of dragon wings had stopped - but he could still hear something. A slapping, scratching, scrabbling sort of sound, with sharp pants and grunts and growls thrown in here and there.
It was coming from the other side of the hill - from a side he’d never seen before.
Matthew got up and walked slowly in that direction. He wasn't sure what the noise was, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to know: it sounded scary.
On the other hand, he wasn't sure that he didn't want not to know, either. “Perhaps I’ll just have a little peep round that rock,” he thought to himself “and if it’s scary, I can run away.”
Matthew crouched down very low as he came up to the rock, and very, very carefully peeped round the side of the rock.
And quickly jumped back again! Because what was there was scary. It was very big, and it had a lot of scales, and sharp claws and big teeth, and huge wings. And it was a bright, shining, glistening, gleaming, brilliantly golden colour all over.
In fact, it looked just like a dragon.
Now, Matthew was even more excited than he was scared. Had he really found a dragon after all? He took a deep breath and peeped round the rock again.
There was no question. It was indeed a dragon. An enormous golden dragon, laying on the ground in front of him, with it’s wings spread out and beating at the ground: and it’s long sharp claws scraping and scratching at the rock beneath, and it’s massive fangs biting and tearing at … at a thick black chain that was fixed deep into the rock at one end, and at the other end was fastened to a black metal collar round the dragon’s neck.
The dragon was chained down! It couldn't fly away - it was trapped!
“Gosh!” Matthew said out loud - and at once the dragon stopped it’s biting and scratching and looked straight at him.
It’s eyes were huge and dark, with a bright glowing golden light deep, deep down and for a moment Matthew felt that they were so big and so deep that he could jump into them and fall forever.
Then the dragon spoke. He spoke quite softly, in a deep, growling, roaring way. The sound made Matthew shiver, because you could tell right away how very, very loud the dragon’s voice could be, if he chose to shout.
“Come out,” said the dragon. “Come out where I can see you.”
Matthew wasn't sure what to do. So he didn't do anything.
“I know you are there,” the dragon whispered. “Come out and talk to me.” There was a long pause. “Please.”
Now, you don’t have to know much about dragons to realise that they do not say please very often, even to each other. Certainly, not to small boys hiding behind rocks. For a dragon to say please meant that it must really need help.
So Matthew took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the rock.
“Hello,” he said politely. “My name’s Matthew.”
“Matthew,” the dragon whispered. “Are you a dwarf - no, I see, you are a human. A very small human.”
“I’m a little boy,” Matthew explained.
“So you are. I see now.” The dragon’s deep, rumbley voice sounded a little bit like Dad, when he was giving his Last Warning before getting really cross. It made Matthew feel even more nervous. He didn't think he’d like to be around if the dragon got really cross, even though he was chained up.
“But what,” continued the dragon, “is a little boy doing here? So far from the human realms, and so close to Dragon Home?”
“I was looking for dragons,” explained Matthew. “And someone told me a rhyme about them.”
“Indeed,” said the Dragon in a knowing voice. “You were looking for dragons: and I was wishing to be found. So it happens, and so we have met.” He paused, considering. “I suppose that I should give you my name, should I not? I am Alsaro the Golden - of the Golden Dragons, naturally - and I am very pleased to meet you , Matthew. I hope that you will be able to help me?”
Matthew thought that Alsaro’s last question sounded a little worried. “I’ll try,” he answered, feeling a little less nervous now that the dragon was asking for his help. “But - what can I do?”
“Ah,” sighed Alsaro. “What indeed? You are not the help I would have chosen - yet you are the help that has come, and perhaps I should not be so swift to judge. Do you, perhaps, have some experience of ogres?”
Matthew thought hard. He wasn't sure what ‘experience’ was, but he had heard of ogres - there were some in the dragon story Dad had read to him. As far as he could remember, they were large, ugly and not good to have around.
“Which ogre do you mean?” he asked, trying to remember more from the story.
“The ogre in question,” said Alsaro “Is Grombold Grum, who has only recently moved to these parts. But he has quickly proved to be a most unwelcome neighbor.”
“I didn't think that dragons had many problems with neighbors.” Matthew replied.
Alsaro made a loud booming noise. Matthew nearly ran back behind the rock, before he realised that the dragon was laughing.
“Quite so, little Matthew. More often, dragon’s are the problem neighbours - at least, for humans! But it is different with ogres. Ogres are among the very few creatures that can be a problem for dragons. They are, you see, very strong - very, very strong indeed. And they are thick-skinned. Dragon fire will burn them, dragon teeth and claws may scratch them - but they will be only a little harmed, if at all. And they have enormous appetites, and like nothing better than a freshly swallowed dragon.”
“That sounds bad.” Matthew agreed.
“It is not normally a matter of serious concern,” Alsaro continued. “Dragons can fly - and ogres cannot! Dragons make their homes in the highest peaks of the greatest mountains, where ogres cannot come: and what is more, most ogres are extremely stupid, whereas Dragons are very clever. It would normally only be a very old, feeble, careless and very unlucky dragon that would fall prey to an ogre.”
Matthew was sensible enough not to point out that this reflected rather badly on Alsaro: in any case, the Golden Dragon had more to say.
“This Grombold Grum, however, is a little different. It may be that he is half-giant, but certainly he is more cunning than most Ogres. Cunning enough to capture a dragon.”
“Um - would that be you, then?” Matthew suggested.
Alsaro snarled, and a great lick of bright yellow flame burst from his mouth. Fortunately, he had turned his head away, but Matthew still felt a wave of scorching heat. He wondered if he should get back behind the rock, but Alsaro calmed himself, and spoke again.
“My apologies - I’m afraid that I am rather angry about this - not angry with you, of course, but with Grombold Grum - and also with myself. Yes, it is true - I have been captured by the ogre, and the shame of it is even harder to bear than this chain around my neck.”
“So - how did it happen?” asked Matthew curiously.
“Oh, he set a trap - a simple enough ruse, but more than one would expect from an ogre, which is my only excuse. He captured a large fat sheep, and tethered it out in a place where he knew dragons frequently flew. This place, in fact. And sure enough, along I came, and seeing this tasty morsel, I flew down for a snack.” Alsaro sighed. “Greed has always been the downfall of dragons. That and pride. Did I stop to think ‘This is strange - a sheep left out untended, so close to Dragon Home’. No, if I thought of it at all, I thought ‘I will enjoy this little meal, and who is strong enough to stop me?”
“An ogre?” Matthew suggested.
Alsaro nodded sadly. “An ogre, of course. And such a cunning ogre. No sooner had I landed, and reached out to sample this sheep, than up leapt Grombold Grum, from the pit in which he had concealed himself, and ‘snap’ around my neck went this chain!”
“It must be a very strong chain.”
“Of course! Were it just human steel I would have it broken in a moment, or melted it through - but this is black dwarfish iron: there is none stronger, and none other that would hold a dragon. And how an ogre could come by such a thing is something that I would like to know - but then, dwarfs and dragons have no love for each other, since we both desire gold for our hordes, and will often fight for it. No difficulty for a cunning ogre like Grombold Grum to get a dwarfish chain, then, and to anchor it deep in the rock.”
Mathew looked around warily. “What happened to Grombold Grum, anyhow?”
“Gone for the moment,” said Alsaro gloomily. “Gone home to sleep off his meal.”
“What meal?”
The Golden Dragon sighed, and little black puffs of smoke drifted out of his nostrils. “The meal he made of my family - my brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and all the other Golden Dragons. For they heard me cry out in distress, and came at once to see what the trouble was: and as each one arrived, out came Grombold Grum, and each one was swallowed up on the instant.”
“Oh! That’s bad!” Matthew was very upset to hear this: it had taken him so long to find any Dragons at all - and now it seemed that only one remained, and he was all chained up. “Are you the only Golden Dragon left, then?”
“Yes.” Alsaro agreed miserably. “And I don’t suppose I’ll be here much longer. Grombold Grum will be back when he’s had a rest, and then I shall be swallowed too. And there will be no more Golden Dragons ever again.”
Matthew was horrified. “That can’t happen!” he shouted. “You must do something!”
“There is nothing I can do,” said Alsaro. “But perhaps there is something you can do.”
“Me? But I’m only a little boy! What can I do about an ogre?”
“There is just one chance! You must…” Alsaro paused, lifted an ear, and turned his head around. “Do you hear that?”
“What?” asked Matthew, but at the same moment he heard something himself. Far away there was a thud. A very faint and distant thud, but somehow a very heavy thud as well.
“We don’t have very long,” said Alsaro. “Grombold Grum is on his way.”
There was another thud. A little bit closer, a little bit louder, and definitely very heavy. Matthew felt the ground shake, just a little bit, under his feet: and then he felt himself shake as well. Just a little bit.
“Listen carefully, Matthew. When the ogre gets here, you must be very careful he doesn't see you! You aren't big enough for even a snack, but he might decide to squash you up for sauce! So what ever happens, you must stay very quiet - even if he swallows me down at once, which is likely.”
“Oh no!” gasped Matthew. There was another thud, closer and louder yet, and the ground shook again.
“But there is a chance - if the ogre doesn't see you. You must try and follow him home. I know that won’t be easy, and you must be very brave - but if you manage to do that, then wait for him to fall asleep.”
Thud! This one was much closer and louder, and the ground shook so much that it made the pebbles bounce.
“Then,” Alsaro continued urgently, “when he is fast asleep - and you must be sure he is fast asleep: wait until he snores - you know what snores are, don’t you?”
“Of course,” said Matthew. “My Daddy has them.”
THUD! The ground jumped this time, and Matthew nearly fell over.
“Then, when Grombold Grum snores, you must creep up to him and… undo his Button.”
“What? Undo his buttons?” Matthew didn’t understand this at all. “What for?”
THUD!! This was so close, and so loud, and so heavy, that Matthew did fall over, and he couldn’t hear what Alsaro said. “What do you mean?” Matthew shouted.
“Not his buttons - his Button! His special Button - his - oh, what do you call it - dragons don’t have them…”
THUD!!! The ground heaved and leaped under Matthew as he fell over again. “Alsaro!” he shouted “What button?”
“His - his - oh you’ll know it when you see it! Just undo it, that’s all!
“But I’m not good with buttons! I haven’t really learned buttons yet!”
THUD!!!! A rock next to Matthew cracked open and the pieces rolled down the hill.
“Quick! He’s here! Hide!” Alsaro snapped. “And don’t forget the Button!”
“I’ll try.” Matthew promised, and dived into the hole left by the cracked rock.
And with one final, enormous, ear-shattering, ground-shivering, THUD!!!!! - Grombold Grum the Ogre arrived.
Very, very carefully, Matthew peeped out from the hole. He was quite scared, especially by the thought of being turned into sauce: but he was also very interested to know what an ogre looked like - and he wanted to see if he had a Special Button.
The first thing Matthew saw was a pair of huge, hairy feet. They were as big as beds - not Matthew’s little bed, but the big bed that Mummy and Daddy slept in. They were as hairy as Elliot - but not nice sleek smooth fur like Elliot’s, but thick, black, snarly dirty hair. The ankle bones were higher than Matthew’s head, and the toes were longer than Matthew’s body - and they had nasty long yellow claws as long again.
Above the foot, was a massive, thick, hairy leg, so big around that it would have taken Matthew, his brother, his Mummy and his Daddy all joining hands together to reach round it.
From halfway up the legs - which would have been about as high as Matthew’s bedroom, which was upstairs - the ogre was wrapped in an enormous blanket, very dirty, very ragged, and covered in patches: hairy patches, furry patches, woolly patches, leathery patches and even some patches that looked like big leaves. It was wrapped several times round his middle, and held together by a very thick piece of rope, tied at the front.
Above the blanket, Matthew saw the Ogres shoulders, so wide across that you could have parked a small bus on them, and so hairy (and dirty) that it was hard to say where the blanket finished and the Ogre began
From the shoulders hung the Ogre’s arms. They were every bit as thick and round and hairy as his legs, but even longer: his two hands (which were even bigger than his feet, and had fingers and claws at least twice as long as his toes) dragged along the ground behind him.
And on the shoulders was the Ogre’s head: and if Matthew had thought (which he had) that the rest of the Ogre was huge, disgusting and scary, then he would have thought that the head alone was at least twice as huge, hairy and disgusting as all the rest put together (which it was).
The shoulders were wide, but the head was wider: the big, pink, fleshy ears hung down past the shoulders on each side, and with room to spare. And from each ear, the Ogres head went up, up, up like the side of a mountain to finish in a sharp, shiny, bald, pointy top. Matthew was used to bald heads: his Dad had lost most of his hair before Matthew was born (and the rest soon afterwards), but he had never seen anything so big, so high and so unpleasant as that huge high peak of shiny, sweaty, red, sunburned head.
Below the bald peak, the rest of the Ogre’s head was covered with thick, black, lank, dank and horribly rank hair, that hung down so far that parts of it were wrapped up in the blanket: from out of this hair poked a long, red, fleshy, drippy, snuffly nose: and on either side of the nose, buried deep inside the hair, two little red eyes gleamed hungrily.
This horrible sight made Matthew feel quite ill and very scared indeed - but there was worse to come: for then the Ogre opened his mouth. And that was the very worst part of the whole Ogre.
It was like a huge split that opened in the hairy front of the Ogre’s face, a big black hole that went all the way across his head and halfway down each side, till it reached the ears. It was lined with thick, slobbery, rubbery, gooey lilac lips, and it kept on opening and opening . The ogres tongue - wide, wet and purple! - slid out and dangled down to his waist, until the ogre sucked it up and licked his lips with a quite disgustingly loud slapping sound that Matthew’s mother would never have allowed at the table. And then he spoke.
“Ahhh - dragon! Good snack for Grombold Grum!” His voice was every bit as bad as the rest of him, and very loud as well. What’s more, he spat as he spoke, and the smell was enough to make Matthew dizzy.
Grombold Grum reached out a huge hairy hand towards Alsaro. The dragon roared and blast of white-hot flame shot out at the ogre: there was a nasty smell of charred hair, but it did not bother Grombold Grum in the least. He grabbed the dragon around the throat, paying no attention to Alsaro’s snarling and biting and clawing. With the other hand, the ogre took hold of the chain, which had resisted all Alsaro’s dragon fire and dragon strength, and with a twist of his fingers - chink! - it parted.
The ogre laughed. And opened his mouth even wider!
And popped Alsaro in. Whole. All snapping dragon teeth and tearing dragon claws, flapping dragon wings and lashing dragon tail - all of him went inside the ogre’s huge mouth in one enormous wriggling mouthful. And then Grombold Grum closed his mouth, and Alsaro the Golden Dragon was gone.
All except for a small bit of his tail, that still poked out from the ogre’s lips, twitching. Grombold Grum frowned, and licked the last bit of tail inside: then he swallowed, and burped.
“”MMM!” he said. “Good!”
Of course, Alsaro had said that all the other dragons had been swallowed, but now Matthew realised that they had been swallowed whole! The sight was so shocking, that he was frozen stiff with fright: and just as well, for then Grombold Grum started sniffing, and looking around him with puzzlement.
“Um.” He grunted. “Smell something…” He sniffed loudly, and lifted an earlobe to listen. “Hum. Smells like - like boy!”
How Grombold Grum could smell anything at all apart from his own amazing stink, Matthew didn't know: but he was so afraid that for a moment he didn’t even breath!
Grombold Grum laughed, a loud gurgling noise as unpleasant as the rest of him. “Can’t be boy! No boy’s here near dragon home!” He thought for a moment then laughed again. “No dragon’s either. Now Grombold Grum home!” He scratched his head. “Good idea. Grombold Grum go home. Little rest after snack. Pity no boy. Tasty. Easy to swallow”
He turned round, and the ground shook again as he stomped off the way he’d come.
For a long time after the ogre had gone, Matthew stayed perfectly still. He didn't dare move. He didn't dare even think about moving. He hardly dared even breath, and when he did, he did it very, very quietly.
But, at last, when the ground was perfectly still and every thing was quiet again, Matthew looked out from behind the rock. There was no sign of the ogre. And, of course, no sign of the dragon, except for a broken piece of chain laying on the sand.
“I can go home now,” Matthew said to himself. “I can go back round the hill the way I came, and, go home for tea, and I’ll never see that ogre ever again.”
“But then I’ll never see a dragon ever again either,” he answered himself. “And Alsaro’s trusting you to rescue him.”
“But Alsaro’s …. Swallowed.” Matthew shuddered at the thought. “What can I do?”
“He told you what to do.”
“But I don’t know what he meant about buttons. And I’m not good with buttons.”
“You can do buttons. And an ogres button can’t be very different.”
“Yes - but - he smelt me!”
“Yes. But Alsaro needs you.”
Matthew’s conversation with himself stopped, because he’d run out of things to say. And he still didn't know what to do.
On the ground, next to the broken black chain, he saw something shining brightly in the sun. He walked over and looked at it again. It was as big as his hand, shaped like a triangle, and a bright shiny golden colour. Matthew knew that colour. It was Alsaro’s colour. And this was one of his scales, torn off in his struggle.
Matthew reached out and picked the scale up. It was smooth and hard, though not as hard as he has thought it would be - more like very thick leather than like metal. It was still a little bit warm.
“I did say I would try.” Matthew remembered. He took a deep breath, pushed the dragon scale under his t-shirt, and turned to follow the ogre.
It wasn't difficult, at first. Once they were off the rocky hillside the ogre’s trail was clear. His massive footprints had sunk deep into the ground, and here and there were trees that had been pushed aside. Once the path took Matthew through a small wood, which was now a lot smaller - the ogre had smashed his way through the middle. Trees that had got in his way were torn out as if they were weeds! Matthew climbed over the fallen trunks and carried on.
After the wood, Matthew found himself walking through thick grass, which grew higher and higher, until it was almost up to his chest. It was hard work, pushing his way through it, and Matthew soon got tired, and hungry, and thirsty.
“I wish I was home,” he said to himself. But then he felt the Dragon’s scale in his pocket, and remembered his promise, and kept on walking.
His legs were aching now, and what’s more, it was starting to get dark. In the tall grass, and in darkness, how would he find his way? It would be easy to miss even something as big as an ogre’s footprint, if it got really dark.
Ahead of him, Matthew could see some more trees - with a gap in them where the ogre had gone through. And he could hear water running, which made him feel even thirstier.
“I’ll just get to the trees, and have a rest - and perhaps a drink of water.” He was almost sure that it was a stream he could hear, or even a river. He’d always wanted to drink out of a river, but Mum would never let him. He was sure she wouldn’t mind now - well, almost sure - so he hurried on, through the trees.
It was getting quite dark now, especially under the trees, and Matthew lost the path that the ogre had made. He had to push through the branches, which tore at his clothes and scratched his face. “Stupid trees!” he muttered. “Why can’t they get out of the way!”
“Stupid yourself!” said a voice nearby. “You didn’t have to come here!”
Matthew jumped. “Who said that?” he shouted, very surprised, and a little bit scared. He looked round, but couldn’t see anything but trees.
“I said it, of course!” said the voice. “Perhaps you are stupid.”
“Yes - he must be stupid!” said another voice. “Wandering around lost in the dark. It’s a stupid thing to do!”
“Moving anywhere at all is pretty stupid!” said someone else. “Why can’t he find a nice place to settle down in, like us!”
And then there was a lot of voices speaking, all saying things like “Yes - quite right!” and “That would be more sensible!” and “Won’t catch me moving around!” They were strange voices, sounding heavy and solid and sort of - wooden.
And they came from all around him, from in amongst the trees in the wood.
In fact, Matthew suddenly realised, the voices came from the trees!
Now that may seem a very strange thing to happen, to be talked to by trees: but for a small boy who as already talked to a dragon and seen an ogre - all on the same day - talking trees were not so strange. Just very, very unusual. And a bit scary, but on the whole Matthew felt relieved to know who was talking.
And of course, he realised at once the mistake he had made, and did his best to put things right.
“Er - I’m very sorry I said you were stupid,” he said to the nearest tree. “I didn't really mean it - I’m just a bit tired.”
There was a sudden silence, when all the trees stopped talking, and for a moment Matthew wondered if he’d imagined it. Then the tree next to him said (in a gruffly wooden sort of voice) “Apology accepted. But you should be more careful what you say. You can hurt a tree’s feelings, you know.”
“Of course,” replied Matthew. “It won’t happen again.”
“Yes - well, all right then,” said the tree. There was a pause, then it added “Urm - I shouldn't have called you stupid either. Sorry. Don’t suppose it’s your fault you’re wandering about. Your sort of being has to do that sort of thing, I expect.”
“Oh, that’s all right!” Matthew was relieved that the tree wasn't angry with him. “I was just a bit lost, you see. And tired, and hungry.”
“How strange!” said another tree voice. “Lost, and tired, and hungry. We never get any of those things - and you have all of them!”
“I don’t want any of them!” Matthew explained. “I’d rather know where I was, and have a rest, and something to eat!”
“Well, I can help with the last one,” said a new tree voice. “If you like apples, that is?”
“Oh yes, I love apples!” Matthew was hungry enough to have eaten anything, even vegetables, but the thought of a nice, sweet juicy apple was enough to make him gasp with delight.
“Over here then!” called the apple tree, and the other trees joined in: “Yes - this way.” “Step that side of me.” “Come on by.” “Please excuse my roots!” As he went, the branches seemed to pull out of his way in front, and push him along from behind, so that in no time at all he was standing by the apple tree.
“You’re in luck - I've just had some come ripe! Here - catch!” Something plopped down on Matthew’s toe. “Ouch!” he said quietly, and bent to pick it up.
“Here comes another!” Warned the apple tree, just as something hit Matthew on the back of the head.
“Ahh - oooh - thanks!” he gasped. Apples started to rain down. Matthew hastily snatched up as many as he could, and retreated a little way.
“Please have some nuts as well!” said a tree behind him, and Matthew felt small hard things falling all over him.
“Thank you very much indeed,” he gasped politely, stuffing his pockets with nuts, before hastily moving again.
“I’m afraid I don’t have anything you could eat,” said a nearby voice. “Unless you care for some leaves?”
“No, that’s quite all right, thank you,” Matthew answered, glad that he wasn't under a coconut tree. He settled down, and began munching apples and nuts.
He’d always like fruit, but these apples were the sweetest, juiciest and tastiest he’d ever had. He’d have enjoyed them at any time: but as hungry as he was, he gobbled them down. He wasn't as keen on nuts, so he left those till last, and then had a closer look at them.
It wasn't easy to see in the fading light, but they weren't like any nuts he’d seen before. Instead of being all the same shape, they were a lot of different shapes: round, oval, square, triangular… Matthew had never heard of some of these shapes. And what was more, they seemed to be different colours: not just all brown, but blue and red and purple and green - and even some that were striped, or spotted.
“What sort of nuts are these?” he wondered aloud.
“They’re Whatevernuts,” said the Nut Tree.
“What are Whatevernuts?” Matthew asked.
“They’re whatever nuts you want!” the Nut Tree laughed. “Almonds, Brazils, Hazels, Walls…”
“Walls?” said Matthew, puzzled.
“Wall Nuts,” explained the Nut Tree. “Cashew Nuts, Peanuts, Peanuts (salted), Peanuts (Dry roasted)… “
“I had some peanuts in chocolate once,” Matthew remembered. “I liked those.”
“Try the stripy ones,” said the Nut Tree. “Not the straight stripes, the curly ones.”
“How do I crack the shell?”
“It’s not difficult. Just give it a little squeeze!”
Matthew squeezed a curly stripy nut, and it obligingly split open along the sides, to reveal a cluster of chocolate coated peanuts.
“Mmm -very nice - thank you!” he said with his mouth full.
“Don’t mention it!” replied the Nut Tree.
Before long, Matthew had discovered some sugared almonds (green with white spots), sweet cashews (white with pink spots) and even some mint-flavoured brazils (red and blue patches). By this time he was feeling quite full, and full of energy: his tiredness had gone completely, and he was eager to be on his way again.
Of course, eating fruit and nuts from talking trees is bound to be much better for you than normal food.
“Thank you so much!” said Matthew again, minding his manners. “I really ought to be going now - please could you show me the way to the river?”
The trees were as helpful as ever, and quickly opened up a pathway for him. In no time at all Matthew was standing on the river bank.
It was night time by now, but not as dark as you might think. There was a huge silver moon and lots of brilliant stars out, and in the bright shiny light Matthew could see the river clearly - deep and black and flashing moonlight from it’s ripples. And wide. Very wide - Matthew could barely see across to where the far bank climbed steeply up from the water.
The river gurgled and splashed cheerfully, but Matthew sat down sadly. “Oh, no!” He said. “How will I ever get across this?”
“Get across?” asked a nearby willow. “Why would you want to get across? What’s wrong with this side?”
“You don’t want to cross the river!” another tree told him. “The ogre lives over their - and he’s not nice at all!”
The trees all joined in to agree with this. “Oh no, not nice! Terrible, in fact! No manners at all - just blunders right through us! Doesn’t care who he uproots, that’s a fact! Tore my branches right off - and not a word of apology!”
“But I have to cross the river - I have to find the ogre!” Matthew explained. “To rescue the dragons the ogre swallowed!”
“Hmm - rescue dragons?” answered an Oak. “They’re not much better than ogre’s, with their fire and all.”
A shudder went through all the trees at the word ‘fire’.
“But they don’t bother us much,” said another tree voice. “Mostly, they just fly over - not like that clumsy ogre!”
The rest of the trees thought about this, with much rustling of leaves and scraping of branches, before coming to cautious agreement. “But I don’t know what we can do to help you cross the river” “We never go across!” “Still - maybe we know someone who can help!” “Who - oh yes, of course - if she’s around!” “We’ll send a message!”
“Who’s around?” asked Matthew. “What message?”
“You’ll see who,” promised the Willow. “And the message has already gone - listen!”
Matthew listened, and heard a flutter and rustling and whispering in the leaves that rushed away through the tree-tops, going up and down the river and into the distance. And before very long he heard it coming back again. When it got close enough he could make out the words. “We’ve found her - she’ll help - she’s coming - won’t be long!”
“Who?” he asked, but even as he did he heard, far up the river, a faint splashing. Faint and distant, but getting swiftly louder and closer - until round a bend in the river came a cloud of spray and moonlight: and in the middle of the spray, white and silver and as bright as the moon, was a horse.
“A horse!” Matthew shouted in excitement, but even as he did, he saw that this was no ordinary horse. For one thing, even though it was right out in the centre of the river, it wasn't swimming. Instead it was galloping across the top of the water, going so fast that it didn't even begin to sink. It’s hooves were just touching the surface, just touching it enough to kick up great misty clouds. Matthew didn't know much about horses, but he knew that normal horses swam in rivers, they didn't gallop across the surface.
And the other thing was, normal horses didn't have a long, white, twisty horn growing out of the centre of their heads - which meant that this horse was…
“A unicorn!” gasped Matthew.
“A unicorn!” the trees agreed. “Welcome, Shalma!”
The unicorn leapt up from the river in one final burst of shimmering silver spray, and stood in front of Matthew. She shone so bright in the moonlight, that Matthew had trouble seeing her properly: parts of her mane and tail seemed to float away and become moonbeams when he wasn't looking straight at them. She was very big - not as big as Alsaro, or as big as the Ogre, but her legs were taller than Matthew was, and when she bent her neck to look down at him, her head was as big as Matthew’s whole body. Silver light ran up and down the long horn - the sharp point was closer to him than he really liked - and Shalma’s eyes were bright blue.
“Hello, trees,” she said. There was a sort of a neigh and a whinny in her voice, as you might expect from a horse: but there was also a musical sort of sound, like someone almost singing, and instruments almost playing - and you would not expect that from anyone but a unicorn.
“Hello Shalma!” answered the trees. “This is Matthew.”
“I thought it must be.” Shalma nodded her head. “There can’t be many little boys out along the Magic River tonight - and even less wanting help to go into the Ogre’s country.” She lay down by the river bank. “Why don’t you tell me all about it, Matthew.”
So Matthew told her the whole story, right from the time he’d left home to look for dragons.
“Of course,” he finished, “I must try and rescue Alsaro. I made a promise. Will you be able to help me, Shalma?”
“Hmm.” Shalma thought about it. “I suppose I could take you to the Ogre’s Castle. It’s not far - not for me, at least, though it would take you a long time. But I couldn't help you beyond that. I’m far too fast for an ogre to catch, and he would never trick me as he did the dragons - but if he got hold of me, I’d be swallowed just as quickly as they were. Ogre’s will swallow anything - and unicorn horns are no more to them than dragons fire.”
“Do you know anything about the ogre’s buttons?” asked Matthew hopefully.
Shalma gave a little horsey laugh. “Why would I need to know anything about buttons?”
“But I must find out what Alsaro meant!” said Matthew. “It’s the only chance I have to rescue the dragons.”
“Dragons are very old.” Said Shalma. “Even older than unicorns. They know a lot of strange things and if Alsaro said the ogre has a button, then I expect he does. But you will have to find it yourself. I can only take you to Grum’s Castle - if you’re sure you want to go?”
Matthew took a deep breath. “Yes,” he said bravely. “I have to.”
“Climb on my back then.”
It wasn't easy for Matthew to reach the Unicorns back, even when she was laying down. The trees had to push some roots up to make steps for him, and even so it was a scramble. But finally he found himself sitting on Shalma’s broad, smooth back, clinging to her silvery mane.
“Ready?” she asked, and stood up. Matthew gulped: suddenly he was a long way off the ground. He gripped Shalma’s mane as tightly as he could.
“Don’t worry, I won’t drop you!” she promised. “Bye trees - here we go!”
Matthew had never been in a rocket: but if he had, it couldn’t have been faster than Shalma. Before he realised that she had even started, she was already halfway across the river, leaving spray behind. By the time the trees called “Bye Shalma - bye Matthew - good luck!” she was already galloping up the far bank, going as quickly as if it had been flat.
And then they reached the level ground beyond, and Shalma gave a shrill whinny, put her head down, and went!
Tucked down as low as he could go, and hanging on with all his strength, Matthew hardly saw any of the country they were passing. It was just a dark blur around him and a cloud of dust behind him, as the wind Shalma was making howled in his ears. At first he was so frightened that he couldn't speak, or he would have asked her to stop and let him walk. He felt sure that at any minute the wind would catch him and blow him off, or there would be a bump and he would lose his grip. And he didn't want to think of what falling off at that speed would do to him.
But gradually he realised that the wind was all round him, but it never touched him: and that there were no bumps at all, not even little ones. Shalma’s back was a smooth and quiet and steady as if they were still standing in the trees by the river. Even when she jumped over a big pile of rocks, Matthew hardly noticed, and he began to realise that when she’d said that he shouldn't worry, she’d meant it.
So he relaxed a bit, and sat up cautiously, and looked around.
It was hard to see much, between darkness and speed, but he soon realised that this country was different from the other side of the river. There were no trees, and not even much grass. All he could see, in fact, was rocks and stones - big rocks on stony ground, small rocks on big rocks, stones on rocks and stones on stones.
“Where are we?” he asked. “It doesn't look like anywhere nice.”
“Nowhere nice at all!“ Shalma told him. “Once this was as pleasant a land as any. A wild land, to be sure, but plenty of grass and trees and animals.”
“What happened to it?”
Shalma snorted. “The ogre happened to it! When Grombold Grum moved in, he set about swallowing every animal he could catch. The ones he couldn't catch moved away. He ripped up all the trees to make big fires - not that he had any need for them, he just likes fires. He trampled down the grass and the bushes, and filled the streams with his rubbish, until there was nothing left but rock and sand!” The unicorn whinnied angrily. “An ogre is a disaster wherever it lives. And when Grum is finished with this land, he’ll go and do the same somewhere else! He’ll never be satisfied - he’s just a huge appetite that wants to swallow everything!”
Shalma had been slowing down as she talked, but now she came to a full stop - as smoothly as ever, of course, so that Matthew wasn't thrown off - and turned her head to look at him.
“So I hope you succeed in freeing the dragons, Matthew. Not just for them, but for all of us. That ogre must be stopped!”
“I’ll try,” said Matthew, thinking that now he had made that promise twice, once to a dragon and once to a unicorn.
“Good! That’s all anyone can do.” Shalma nodded. Then she lay down. “But it’s time to get off now. We’re here!”
“Where?” Asked Matthew, looking round. It was very dark. The moon had set during their journey, and the only light was from the stars.
From the stars - and, Matthew realised, from a dim orange glow somewhere ahead of them.
“There in front of us.” Said Shalma. “The ogre’s castle.”
Peering through the gloom, Matthew could make out the top of high black walls. The orange glow came from somewhere behind them. “Did Grombold Grum build this?” he wondered.
“Oh no! Ogre’s build nothing, not even especially cunning ones like this Grum! People built this place, Matthew. People like you, who lived here long ago. They moved away, but left behind their great stone walls - empty, until the Ogre moved in.”
Matthew carefully climbed off Shalma’s back. Standing on his own feet again, he felt very small, and the castle walls looked very, very high.
“Are you coming with me?” he asked the unicorn hopefully.
“I’m sorry, Matthew.” Shalma said sadly. “I cannot run up walls so high and smooth. And the Ogre has filled the old gate way with rocks and rubble. He can push that aside when he wants to go in and out, but no one else has his strength. Not even a Unicorn.”
“Then how can I get in? I’m only a little boy!”
“Yes, indeed - and that is why you might be able to find a way in, where no one else can. The ogre piles his rocks carelessly! He will leave holes, small gaps that a little boy could get through. It’s up to you to find a way.”
The thought of leaving Shalma behind and going alone into that dark castle made Matthew feel a little shaky. “But - even if I do get inside, what can I do then?”
“Do what the dragon told you!” she answered gently. “Find the Ogre’s button, whatever that is. He will be sound asleep. He spent the whole day swallowing dragons, with only a little rest before he had Alsaro for desert. That’s a big meal, even for an Ogre! He won’t be easily woken up, not until he gets hungry again. So this is your best chance ever, Matthew.”
Matthew took a deep breath. “Well, I did promise to try. I promised twice.” He reached up , and stroked Shalma’s nose. “Thank you for the ride. It was incredible!”
“You’re welcome. Goodbye now, and good luck.”
She stood up, and turned to go. “Oh - and watch out for Mothsps. They often hang round Ogres. Not nice things.”
“What are Mothsps? I’ve never heard of them before,” Matthew asked in puzzlement.
“They’re night time wasps,” Shalma answered. “Bye now!”
And in a flash of silver light, she streaked away from him, and was gone.
“Mothsps.” Matthew said to himself. “As if finding the ogre’s button wasn't enough, I've got to look out for Mothsps. I only wanted to see a dragon!”
With a sigh, he turned towards the castle and began walking.
As he got closer, the glow of the ogre’s fire became brighter, so that Matthew could see the broken, crumbling top of the old walls. But it was even darker at the bottom, and he tripped and stumbled over the rough ground before he finally touched the hard stone of the castle.
“Which way to the gate?” he wondered. One way seemed as good as another, so he went right, and felt his way along until at last he found a gateway. As Shalma had said, it had been filled up with rocks. There were holes between the rocks, some big enough for Matthew, but it wasn’t easy to find the right one. The ogre’s fire was at the other end of the castle, and there was no light at all in the gateway. Matthew had to scramble and feel his way in the darkness. Before long, his hands and knees were badly scratched, and it hurt a lot. Once he almost got stuck in a narrow place and only just managed to pull himself out. But at long last, he found a way to the top of the rock pile, and just between the rocks and the roof was a little space just large enough for him to crawl through. With a gasp of relief he came out of the hole and found himself, at last, inside the castle.
He was looking out at a wide courtyard between the walls. Once other buildings had stood here, but all that was left was crumbling ruins. Another high wall stood across the far side of the courtyard: in the middle was an open door way, and bright firelight flicked and glowed through it.
“Nearly there.” Matthew said with satisfaction. “But oh - what is that smell?”
Now he was through the gateway, he could smell the most horrible stink he had ever smelled in his life. It was like his little brothers pooey nappies, wrapped in his dads sweaty socks, that the cat had been sick on. Only worse. It was like the piece of fish that had got stuck behind the radiator for a week, it was like the dead rat that Tom’s friend had given him to keep under his bed, it was - it was the smell of an Ogre’s toilet. Which, Matthew realised, is what Grombold Grum used the courtyard for.
Trying very hard not to be sick himself, Matthew clambered down from the gateway, and began to cross the courtyard - taking care to avoid any suspicious looking piles on the way. He was so busy not being sick and trying to see what he was stepping in, that he forget all about the mothsps.
Until, that is, something big and white floated up from ground ahead of him with fluttery buzzing noise, and started to drift towards him.
Two more appeared either side of him. Then he heard buzzing behind him. Matthew forget about the smell.
The ones in front came closer, until Matthew could see them quite well, even in the dim light. They were the biggest insects Matthew had ever seen - as big as his head, or bigger, flying with long wings that moved so fast they were a blur. They were white all over - not bright silvery-white like Shalma, but soft, dull greyish white, like dirty rags. They had huge black eyes, with ugly little mouths underneath, mouths that were moving all the time - sucking and blowing and wriggling like old men trying to find their teeth. They had long spindly legs with sharp looking claws dangling down from their bodies: and worst of all, behind them were thick, black stingers, as long as Matthew’s arm.
Mothsps, for sure. Matthew had never liked insects, not even little ones without stings. These made him so scared that he hardly even dared to breath. “Perhaps…” he thought to himself “…perhaps if I stand perfectly still and don’t move anything, perhaps they won’t see me. Or perhaps they might just think I’m a big rock. Perhaps they might go away.”
But they didn’t go away. They hovered and buzzed and circled round him, getting closer and closer. And then one of them spoke, in a nasty buzzy voice.
“Whattzzz thizzz thennzz?” it asked. “Whatsss it dooingzzz here in the Ogrezzz cazzztle?”
Matthew shut his eyes and said nothing.
“Can’t itzzz talkzzz?” said another mothsp.
“It’zzz shut it’zz eyesss!” buzzed another. “Is it assspleepzzz?”
“A little ssstingzz will wakezzz itzz up!” another one suggested. The mothsps liked that idea, and there was a lot of buzzy laughter. Matthew didn’t like it at all, and forced himself to open his eyes.
“No - please don’t sting me!” he yelled. “I’m awake!”
“Awakezzz, isss itzz!” buzzed a mothsp behind him. “Izzz rudess to pretendzzz to be asleepzzz when wezzz talking to itzzz!”
“Sorry - I didn’t mean to be rude!” said Matthew quickly.
“Sayzz sorry nowzz.” From a Mothsp in front. “Butzz what issss itzz, anywayzzz?”
“I - I’m a little bo,” said Matthew. “My name is Matthew.”
“And whatzzz a little boyzzz doingzzz here?”
“I’m looking for the ogre. To set the dragons free.” Too late, Matthew thought that perhaps these horrible mothsps were more likely to be friends to the ogre than to the dragons: and sure enough, there was a sudden storm of loud and angry buzzing.
“Nazzty little boyzzz!” buzzed the Mothsps. “Naughty boyzzz, to set dragonzz free!” “We protect the ogrezzz while he sleepzzz, yessss we do!” “Ogre feedzzz usss.”
Then the mothsps began discussing what to do about Matthew. “Wakezz the ogrezz - he swallowzzz naughty boy!” “Put himzz on ogrezzz fire! Burn himzzz up!” “Drop stonezzz on him, sqaushhh himzz flat.”
Matthew went cold and shivery with fright as he heard all these terrible ideas being considered for him. But the worst one was what most of the mothsps wanted to do, and gradually they all came to agree on it. “Stingzzz him! Stingzzz him so he doezzn’t move, then suck himzz dry!” “Yezzz, Yezzz!” the mothsps agreed. “Niccce boyzz!” “Juicyzzz boyzz!” “Tasssty boyzz!”
And all at once they began to close in on Matthew from all sides.
“No!” he shouted. Scared as he was, he wasn’t going to stand still and let them sting him. He wanted to run, but the mothsps were all around him, and they could move faster than he could.
“Help!” he shouted “Help - Shalma! Help!” Even though he knew that Shalma was far away by now, and couldn’t have got in the Castle anyway.
The Mothsps paused, but only for a moment. “No helpzz here for youzzz, boy Matthew.” They laughed their buzzy laugh at him, and came closer.
Matthew whirled round, trying to watch all the Mothsps at once. Something moved under his foot. He reached down, and snatched up the stone he had picked up. Without stopping to think about it, he through it as hard as he could at the nearest mothsp.
Matthew was a strong little boy, and he could throw very hard. His stone hit the mothsp smack in the mouth. With a shriek, it fell to the ground, and lay there twitching and buzzing.
The other mothsps hastily moved back again. But they didn’t go away, and now they were very angry.
“Nassty boyzzz!” they shouted at him. “Cruel little boyzzz!” “We’ll stingzzz youzz for that!” “We stingzz you lotzzz!”
Matthew bent down and picked up as many stones as he could find, and begin flinging them at the mothsps. He wasn’t nearly as scared, now he knew that the mothsps could be hurt.
But the Mothsps were being careful to stay at a safe distance. They began flying more quickly, buzzing round and round Matthew, dodging quickly whenever he threw a stone. Try as he might, he couldn’t hit another one, and before long he had run out of stones! He knelt down and felt around him frantically, but there were no more stones nearby. And the Mothsps began coming closer again, laughing and buzzing at him as they did.
He could feel the wind from their wings now, and they were buzzing so loudly that it made his teeth shake. One of them dipped down and gave his hair a tug with its claws, then zipped away laughing when he hit at it. Another one came up behind him at pulled at his clothes! They were playing with him, but he knew that at any moment they would start stinging - and he didn’t have anything to even hit them with!
Matthew spun round, whirling his arms to keep them off. As he did, he felt something under his t-shirt, something he’d put there to keep safe, something he’d almost forgotten about.
With a gasp, he pulled up his shirt and grabbed at Alsaro’s scale.
It had been warm when he’d found it - it was still warm now, from being close to his body - but somehow, it felt even warmer than it should be. And instead of being hard to see in the darkness, it shone with a soft golden glow. Matthew could see properly again - and he saw a mothsp, sneaking up on him out of the dark.
With a shout, Matthew hit out at the huge insect with the dragon scale in his hand. The Mothsp buzzed sideways, but the tip of the scale touched the edge of it’s wing. There was a bright golden spark, a burning smell, and a terrible scream from the Mothsp as it fell to the ground with it’s wings all black and crispy.
A cry of terror came from the Mothsps. “Dragonzzz fire!” they screeched. “Dragonzz scale!” “Dragonzz - dragonzzz - terrible dragonzzz!”
Matthew jumped at them, lashing out with his dragon scale and shouting at the top of his voice. The scale glowed and sparked, mothsps hissed and sizzled and howled in pain. The light from the scale blinded them, and they flew in every direction trying to get away. Some of them flew into each other, and began stinging each other in panic! Wherever the scale touched them, or even came close, sparks flew, and mothsps burned.
In a few moments, it was over. Most of the mothsps had fled in panic, flying as far and as fast as they could to get away. The only ones left were dead, their smoking bodies lying all over the courtyard.
“Wow!” said Matthew, looking at the scale. “Thanks, Alsaro.” The golden glow had faded to a faint glitter now. Carefully, Matthew tucked it back inside his t-shirt, and started on the last part of his journey: for he knew that within the fire-lit doorway ahead was Grombold Grum the Ogre.
Once there had been a great hall beyond the doorway, a huge room where Knights had feasted and Lords had ruled. But most of the ceiling had fallen down long ago. There were piles of old, mossy stones all across the floor, and looking up Matthew could see the stars. There were only a few places around the edge of the room where a little bit of roof still stuck out. Under one of them was the fire: a huge, roaring blaze where whole tree trunks were burning. It was so hot that it made Matthew gasp for breath, even though it was all the way over on the wall to his left.
To his right, under the other bit of roof, was the ogre.
He was as big, and as ugly, as Matthew remembered. In fact, if anything, he was even bigger and uglier, because he had undone his rope. And opened his blanket. And out had flopped a huge, fat, bulging, quivering, pink and purple belly!
It was so big that Matthew couldn’t even see the top of it. It was so big that it even covered the ogre’s knees. It was so big that it didn’t seem to part of the ogre at all - it looked as a if a big pink hill had fallen on top of Grombold Grum while he slept, and had nearly squashed him.
But when Grum snored, the whole hill quivered. Matthew thought of a huge strawberry and blackcurrant mousse. “But it smells as though the mousse has gone off!” he said to himself, wrinkling his nose. This close, the ogre smelt as bad as he looked. It was just like the mothsps courtyard, only a lot stronger, and with a little hint of rotten fruit to go with it. He had to hold his nose just to be able to stand there.
“Now, where is that button?” he asked himself. Matthew wanted nothing more than to turn around and run out to some fresher, cooler air: but he had come too far and made too many promises to go back now. So, holding his nose, he began to creep slowly along the wall, trying to get closer to the ogre without getting too close.
Ordinary buttons, as Matthew knew well, came with clothes. Shirts had lots of them, coats had a few of them, and trousers usually had one of them. Mummy had some dresses with buttons: but the ogre had only worn his filthy blanket, and that had been held together by a rope, not buttons.
“Sometimes clothes button at the back.” Matthew remembered. Perhaps the ogre’s blanket had some buttons there? But Grum was laying on top of his blanket - so how was he to see if they were there or not?
Matthew stepped a little closer. The closer he got, the worse the smell was - and the louder the snores were. They made the stones shake under his feet, and his head started to ache. He was still holding his nose, but now he wished he had a spare hand to put over his ears. And he still couldn’t see any buttons at all.
Then Grombold Grum coughed.
“KKKRRAAGGGH!!” It was like an explosion. It was so loud that Matthew was knocked over backwards, and hit his head on the stone floor, which hurt a lot and made him a bit dizzy. But worse was to come. As Matthew staggered to his feet, Grum lifted his huge hand to wipe at his mouth. And his eyes flickered open.
Matthew froze, not daring to move, as Grum rubbed his nose, wiped his eyes, and scratched his belly. Then he yawned - his huge mouth opening so wide that his head disappeared from sight, all but the tip of his nose - and to Matthew’s relief, he closed his eyes again. And started to snore.
And his hand flopped down, right towards Matthew.
If he had been just the slightest instant slower, Matthew would have been squashed to jelly: but just in time he dived forwards, and rolled as fast as he could - and SMACK! The ogre’s hand slammed into the stones right by Matthew’s feet.
Shaking, Matthew slowly stood up again. Now, he thought, he really would run away: there was nothing he could do here, he couldn’t even see any buttons, and if he stayed much longer he’d be squashed, or deafened, or choked by the smell. One last time, he looked up at the huge fleshy mound that was Grombold Grum’s belly.
And this time he saw it.
After his cough and scratch and yawn, Grum had moved a bit in his sleep. Not much. He’d just rolled over a little way. Just enough so that Matthew could get a glimpse of the top of his belly. Just enough that Matthew could see, right on the highest, pinkest, peak, a large, white, round…
“Button!” gasped Matthew in astonishment. “His Special Button! Of course! It’s his Belly Button!”
Dragons, as Alsaro had said, didn’t have them. Neither did people - not like this one. For this was truly a button - and now Matthew could see how it held together two enormous flaps of pink and purple skin: one at the top, and one at the bottom of the ogre’s belly. He could also see that it was being pulled very tight, just like one Daddy’s shirts, before Mummy put him on a diet.
There was no more thought of running away now. Matthew knew that he had to get to that button - but it was very high up, and he could only see one way to get there.
“Don’t think about it,” he said to himself. “Just do it. Run as fast as Shalma. Fly like a dragon. You promised! So do it.”
He took a deep breath, ignoring the smell, and then began to run as fast as he could. Straight at the ogre.
Matthew was a fast runner. Not quite as fast as Tom, who had longer legs, but very fast for his age. He was already going well when he reached Grum’s hand, still laying on the floor where the ogre had put it: with the biggest jump he could manage, Matthew leapt right up onto it - and carried on running, all the way up the arm.
He had to slow down a bit as he reached the shoulder, because it became a lot steeper, and hairier. By the time he reached the top, and got on to Grum’s chest, he was walking, struggling to push his way through the tangle of thick, black, greasy hair. Some of the hairs were as thick as his legs, and taller than his head: it was hard work. But eventually he found himself at the ogre’s belly.
Now he began to wish for more hair to hold on to, but instead it was all smooth, quivering skin. And very steep. Soon, Matthew was climbing on hands and knees, struggling to get a grip. His arms and legs were aching, but he couldn’t stop. He was very high up now - so high that he didn’t dare to look down - and he knew that if he slipped and fell off, it would be the end of him.
“I promised!” he reminded himself, as he climbed. “I promised!”
To his relief, Matthew found that it got easier to climb as he got nearer the top. It wasn't as steep here, and there were a few wispy hairs to hold onto.
Until, at last, he could see in front of him something white and flat and round.
“The button!” Matthew gasped, and just then Grombold Grum moved in his sleep again.
Not much - not even as much as last time. But for a small boy standing on his belly, it was like an earthquake in a jelly factory. Everything shook under his feet, and for a moment Matthew was sure that he was going to be sent slipping and sliding to the floor.
“No!” he shouted. “Not now!” And he threw himself forward. His fingers just reached the edge of the Belly Button: with aching arms he hung on to it, until the ogre settled again and the belly stopped moving as much.
Then he stood up, and looked down at the button.
It was certainly the biggest button that he’d ever seen. It was flat, and white, and round, and hard, and as big across as his whole body. “How am I going to undo that?” he thought. “I don’t know,” he answered himself. “But I am!” And he set to work.
Matthew had told Alsaro that he wasn't good with buttons. The truth was, he couldn't really be bothered with them. They were fiddly little things, mostly, and trying to do them up or undo them took too much time when he wanted to play. But now he had to undo this button, and he hoped he was better at it than he’d said.
He tried pushing it, and pulling it, and twisting it, and kicking it. None of these did any good at all. But it did to disturb Grombold Grum, who seemed to be very sensitive in that area. Several times he twitched and shook and wriggled in his sleep, and each time Matthew had to hold tight to the button to avoid being knocked off.
The third time it happened, Matthew’s face came close to a long, thin line in the ogre’s skin. All at once, Matthew recognised it: this was the Button Hole!
That made the job a little easier, because now Matthew could see which way the button had to go. Getting his fingers underneath one edge, he began to lift it, and at the same time tried to twist it round to fit the button’s edge into the hole.
Even in his sleep, Grombold Grum did not like that at all! He groaned, and a huge hand came up to prod at the irritation on his belly.
Fortunately for Matthew, Grum was still asleep, and a small boy is not easy to find with your eyes shut. The ogre’s fingers swept over Matthew’s head, and poked at the skin on the other side of the Button.
Which opened the Button Hole a little bit more. Enough so that Matthew could see that it went down, down, down into deep, black depths inside the ogre. But he didn't stop to look. With a great heave, he lifted the button a bit more, until it was up to his knees - and a bit more, up to his waist - and twisted it a bit - and pushed - and pushed and …
Suddenly, the button began to move, to slide forward, to slip into the deep black Button Hole. Matthew began to tumble forwards, his legs slipped, and he felt himself falling, following the Button into it’s Hole… he shouted something - but he couldn’t hear himself, because just then Grombold Grum the ogre came wide awake, and realised what was happening, and ROARRRED!
The sound was so loud that the ancient stone walls of the castle were blown apart by it, and were sent flying away in every direction. The huge fire was shattered into flying sparks by the noise. Far away, Shalma heard the sound, and whinnied in joy, knowing what it meant. Even further away, the trees heard it as well, and chattered excitedly about it.
But in the castle, Matthew had no time to think about the fact that he probably been made quite deaf by the noise. Because Grum’s great hands were reaching up and grabbing for him!
But no - not for him, he realised. Instead, Grum was desperately grabbing at the edges of his belly, trying to grab hold of them and hold them together while he did up his Button again. In that moment, Matthew felt a little bit sorry for the ogre: no matter how unpleasant Grum was, it couldn't have been nice to wake up and find that someone had undone his Belly Button.
And it was too late for the ogre now. Even as he grabbed, the button slipped all the way through the hole.
And the huge belly - burst open.
The two flaps of skin sprang apart with a loud twang, and Matthew was flung high into the air. He went up and up, turning over and over, and every time he could look down he saw the great hole in the ogre’s belly getting wider and wider. Inside, there seemed at first to be nothing but a vast black emptiness: but then he saw, deep inside, a golden glint. Which grew bigger, and grew wings - great golden wings, that stretched across the ogre’s belly - and Alsaro the Golden burst free with a scream of joy.
“I did it!” thought Matthew in amazement. “Alsaro!” he shouted. “I did it!”
“I’m FRREEE!” Alsaro boomed. “FREEEEEEE!”
Just then, Matthew realised that he was no longer going up and up into the air: instead, he had started to fall - and it was a very long way down.
“Alsaro!” he shouted. “Help!”
“Matthew?” Alsaro looked around, and looked down.
“Up here!” Matthew screamed. “No - over here! No - DOWN HERE!” he yelled at the top of his voice as he fell past the Dragon.
“Matthew!” Just in time, Alsaro caught a glimpse of a small boy, falling out of the air. With a neat little mid-air flip, he reversed direction, dived, and snatched him gently out of the air with a taloned claw.
“I didn’t know you could fly!” chuckled the golden dragon.
“I can’t!” Matthew said shakily.
“Ahh - but then, you told me you weren't good at buttons either, but you seemed to have managed this one!”
“I can do buttons if I really want to.” Matthew admitted. “But - are you all right?”
“Yes - I am! Never better, now I’m free! And my family are saved as well - thanks to you! Look!”
Matthew looked down, and saw other dragons emerging from the huge black hole of the ogre’s belly. Lot’s of dragons: old ones, young ones, big ones, small ones - but all golden. Some, those who had been swallowed longest, had lost their shine, and were so weak that they needed help to fly out: but all were alive, and Alsaro promised Matthew that all would be quite recovered in time.
“It looks very - deep.” Matthew said, looking down into the belly.
“Inside every ogre is an emptiness that goes on for ever.” Alsaro explained. “The more they feed it, the more it grows - so an ogre’s appetite gets bigger and bigger, and they can never satisfy it for long.”
“What will happen to Grum now?”
“Look!” said Alsaro, and pointed with his free claw.
The last of the golden dragons had been helped out of the Belly, and as he came free, the whole great mound of flesh began to collapse, like a balloon with a slow leak. At first, Matthew thought that it would end up laying flat on the floor, but then he realised that it was falling into the great hole: Grumbold Grum was falling into himself!
Faster and faster it went: first the belly disappeared, then the hairy chest, and beard, and shoulders and legs - pink skin and black hair falling down and down into the empty black hole: then the feet and hands and mouth and ears and the pointy bald head last of all - and then all there was a big, empty hole in the air. Which shrank and shriveled and finally disappeared altogether with a faint pop!
All that was left of Grumbold Grum the Ogre was an extremely dirty blanket and a very bad smell.
“What happened?” asked Matthew. “Where did it go?”
“An ogre is nothing but an appetite.” Alsaro told him. “When there is nothing else to feed it, it feeds on itself.”
“But.. I don’t understand.”
“The Ogre is gone, and we are free! Isn't that enough to understand? Forget the rest, Matthew. And let’s get away from here and forget this horrible smell!”
With that, Alsaro gave a great thrust of his wings, and shot high into the air, with all the Golden Dragons following. In no time at all, the shattered castle had disappeared into the darkness behind them, and they were flying swiftly through the night sky.
As they flew, Matthew told Alsaro of all his adventures. The dragon was very impressed, and promised to give the Talking Trees and Shalma the unicorn his thanks for their help.
“But you are the hero of this tale, Matthew!” he said. “If you had not kept your promise, we would never have been freed. The Golden Dragons are in your debt!”
It was getting lighter now, and as they swept down and landed, Matthew saw that they were once more on the hillside where he had first seen Alsaro. The broken piece of chain was still there, and the rock where he had hidden. It seemed like a long time ago.
Alsaro set Matthew down gently. All the other dragons had landed and stood around him: all shining golden scales, and smoking nostrils, and sharp claws and pointy teeth and vast wings.
“Matthew,” said Alsaro, “for the great thing you have done for us, we name you Dragon Friend: and that is a great honour, which few men have ever earned: and never before has a small boy been so named. Remember, we owe you a very great debt, and should you ever have need of us, we will be ready to help. And any time you wish to once more visit us in Dragon Home, you need only grasp hold of the scale I left you, and repeat the rhyme you learned.”
“Far beyond the sunset,
High above the moon,
Fly the great-winged dragons
On their way to dragon-home” Matthew said. “I’ll remember!”
Then he had another thought. “But I don’t think that Mummy and Daddy will let me come again,” he said sadly. “I must be very late home by now - I’m sure to be in a lot of trouble!”
Alsaro laughed a soft, rumbling laugh. “Time is different here, as much else is! I think, that when you go back round the hill, you will find it is not much later than when you left. Hurry now - and you may even be in time for tea!”
“Tea!” Thinking of it, Matthew suddenly felt very hungry. It was a long time since his meal of apples and whatevernuts, and even food from talking trees cannot last for ever.
“Bye, then!” Matthew started walking off round the hill. From behind him came a chorus of loud dragon cries “Goodbye, Matthew! Goodbye, Dragon Friend! Come again!”
He turned and waved to all the Golden Dragons: then carried on, round the hill. As he did so there was a sudden thunderous roar of dragon wings beating, of dragons leaping into the sky, and he turned to see them go. But it was too late: the dragons had already gone, and all that was left was the empty hillside, peaceful in the evening sunlight.
“On their way to Dragon Home.” Matthew said to himself. He reached beneath his t-shirt and felt the warm, smooth dragon scale. Then he ran off down the hill, on the way to his home for tea.