Dragon Rider by Cornelia Funke Read Free Book Online Page A

He scrambled up in terror and ran toward Firedrake.
    “You were supposed to get out of here!” he shouted. “I …”
    “Climb on,” the dragon interrupted, without taking his eyes off the two men. They were still standing there as if rooted to the spot. Ben, his legs trembling, clambered up onto Firedrake’s back.
    “Go away,” the dragon commanded. “This boy is mine!” His low voice echoed through the dark cellar.
    The men staggered and fell against each other in alarm.
    “I’m d-dreaming!” one of them stammered. “That’s … that’s a dragon!”
    But still the pair of them didn’t move. Then Firedrakeopened his mouth, roared, and spat blue fire. His dragon-fire licked over the dirty walls, the black ceiling, the stone floor, and filled the room with leaping flames. Terrified, the men retreated and ran away screaming as if the devil himself were after them.
    “What’s up? What’s going on?” Out of breath, Sorrel caught up with Firedrake.
    “Quick, the canal!” cried Ben. “If they come back they’ll bring twenty more with them.”
    “Climb on, Sorrel!” Firedrake said, listening uneasily to the fading echoes of the men’s footsteps. When Sorrel was finally on his back, the dragon turned and strode back to their hiding place.
    Bright sunlight was still pouring through the open hatch. Cautiously Firedrake put his nose outside.
    “It’s too light!” Sorrel moaned. “Much too light. What are we going to do?”
    “Come on!” Ben grabbed the brownie’s hand and pulled her off the dragon’s back with him as he clambered down. “Firedrake must swim alone. That way he can dive beneath the surface and they won’t see him. We’ll take my boat.”
    “What?” Sorrel distrustfully flinched away from the boy and pressed close to Firedrake’s scales. “Must we really separate again? How will we find each other?”
    “There’s a bridge.” Ben turned to the dragon. “Swimdown the canal on the left and you can’t miss it. Hide under it until we arrive.”
    Firedrake looked at the boy thoughtfully. Finally he nodded. “Ben’s right, Sorrel,” he said. “Take care of yourselves, both of you.”
    Then he forced his way through the hatch, dived deep into the murky water, and disappeared from sight.
    Sorrel anxiously watched him go, and without turning her head she asked, “Where’s this boat of yours, then?”
    “Here.” Ben went over to the stacked cartons and pulled them aside. A red-painted wooden boat came into view.
    “Call that a boat?” said Sorrel, horrified. “It’s not much bigger than a toadstool!”
    “If you don’t like it you can swim,” said Ben.
    “Oh, drat it all!” Sorrel listened. She could hear agitated voices far, far away.
    Ben quickly crawled behind the stack of crates where he’d been hiding when they’d first met and came out again holding a large backpack.
    “Coming?” he asked and pushed his boat over to the hatchway.
    “We’ll drown, that’s what,” Sorrel muttered, staring with disgust at the filthy water.
    But she helped the boy launch the boat into the canal.

7. Waiting for Dark
     

     
    N o one saw Firedrake as he made his escape along the canal. Twice, boats came toward him, but they were chugging through the water so noisily that Firedrake could hear them a long way off and was able to dive in good time — deep down to the bottom of the canal, where garbage got stuck in the mud. As soon as the dark shadows of the boats had passed over him and disappeared, the dragon came up again and let himself glide on. Gulls circled over his head, screeching, until he shooed them away with a soft growl. At last, he saw a bridge beyond some tall willow trees. Their branches hung low, floating on the water.
    Broad and massive, the bridge spanned the river. Traffic noises drifted down from it, but the shadow it cast was as dark as the mud on the bottom of the canal and offered the dragon shelter from prying eyes. Firedrake raised his head from the