The Last Dragon Chronicles: Fire World: Fire World by Chris D'Lacey Read Free Book Online Page A

composer?” Rosa asked Mr Henry.
    “Think  of  them  as   people   who

    imagineered music for the masses.”
    “Oh,” said the girl. She didn’t seem impressed.
    “I read about a man called Shopan,” said David, “who composed melodies so beautiful – on the pi:ano – that people thought he had captured them from the wind.”
    Rosa looked through the window at the stationary clouds. No melodies there today.
    Mr   Henry   encouraged   David   to continue.
    “People talked in strange ways about the music he wrote, saying it was as light as the air, or as easy on the ears as sleep is on the eyes. They said it was like poetry. What’s poetry, Mr Henry? I’ve looked for it, but I can’t find any.”

    Mr Henry studied the boy carefully. “It’s an ancient, lyrical form of writing.”
    David thought back to the flipchart Mr Henry had used on his first day here. Writing again. “Where is it? Can I seesome?”
    Mr Henry smiled. “It’s on the upperfloors, David.”
    “The upper floors?” said Rosa. A slightgasp escaped her mouth.
    David sat up at once. “I’ve beenmeaning to ask about that. I’ve tried to gothere, to the top of the librarium, but Inever get further than—”
    “Floor 42.” Rosa looked at him andshrugged. “It’s right. I’ve counted thewindows. You can’t count upwards above 42 because of the clouds. I bet Runceyknows, though. I’ve seen him flying up

    there.” She sent a stream of tongue clicks
    across the room.
    The firebird, sitting by the window,preening, turned his head and went   rrrh ?
    “Why can’t   we   go up there?” Davidasked the curator.
    Mr Henry pushed his glasses backfurther up his nose. “You will,” he said, “when everything is in order.”
    “What’s it like up there?” asked Rosa. “What can you see if you stand on theroof?”
    Mr Henry looked at his helpers in turn. “Everything,” he said. “All the world canbe seen from the roof of the librarium.”
    This   extraordinary,   if   somewhatmetaphorical, notion almost sent bothyoungsters scuttling back to their shelvesthat instant. For the incentive in Mr

    Henry’s statement was clear: whoevercompleted their labours first wouldprobably be the one who made it at leastas far as Floor 43. And what an
    achievement   that   would be.
    But he told them the next day must be arest day. From now on, there would beone in every seven, he said. They shouldgo out. Walk. Enjoy the daisy fields. Chase around. Play. Be tiresome children. Make a nuisance of themselves. (He meantthese last two jokingly, of course.) If theywanted to be helpful, the water butts werelow.
    Water!   Rosa   sat   up   brightly. “Tomorrow morning, first light.” Sheelbowed David in the ribs.
    “What are we doing?” he asked.
    “Getting water, of course!”

    Of course. Everything was obvious ifyou lived in Rosa’s head.
    But he was ready, bright and early, atdawn the next morning, with a knapsack offood (mainly biscuits) on his back, leaningagainst the wall outside her room whenshe emerged. She was surprised to seehim, but pleased, he thought. She’dchanged her clothing: new white kickerboots, pretty yellow dress. He looked herup and down, not sure if he shouldcomment. She folded her arms as if to say, ‘And what do you think you’re   staring at?’ He wanted to reply but his tongue was inknots. She knew it, and was soon incommand again. “Better tie your lacesup,” she sniffed.
    Laces? Wasn’t he wearing slip-onshoes? Stupidly, he looked down to check.

    The next thing he knew she’d pushed himover and gone running for the fields.
    He caught up with her by a circularwall in an area where the daisies were a
    lovely violet colour. He threw down the knapsack and played a game of this way and that before she stumbled and he finally got hold of her.
    “Agh!” she squealed.
    With one heave he threw her onto his shoulder. And though she pummelled his back with her