The First Witch Chapter 6

 

Chapter Six.

 

The Turret.

 

They didn’t have to wait long for Das to return. He landed beside the carriage, looking thoroughly miserable.

“I did not enjoy that at all,” he said. “Chasing people gives dragons a bad name.” He handed Emdan the red scarf.

“Sorry,” said Jasmine. “But we had to do something, or you’d have had to go back to the Witch and tell her you failed.”

Das nodded reluctantly. “I know. But please don’t ask me to do anything like that again.”

“Did you follow them all the way to the Castle?” asked Emdan.

“No. I didn’t want the horses to hurt themselves, so I only chased them a few miles. Odd thing, though, there was another rider behind the big group. He stopped and waved at me before riding on.”

Emdan explained about Aldan.

“Well,” said Das, “breakfast, a quick swim, and then I’ll go and look at this turret for you.”

He drank deeply from his seaweed flask, then slipped into the lake. Ten minutes later he emerged, shook the water from his scales, and took off toward the mountain.

Soon he was just a speck in the sky.

His inspection didn’t take long. He swooped back down and landed with a thump.

“The turret is there, right enough,” he reported. “I flew all the way around it. There’s no door, only a narrow window. The mountain is too steep for me to land anywhere. And worst of all, the whole place absolutely stinks of magic.”

“I didn’t know magic had a smell,” said Jasmine.

“Oh yes,” said Das. “To dragons it does. The stronger the smell, the stronger the spell. That turret reeks of very powerful magic.”

“So, what do we do?” asked Emdan.

“Simple,” said Jasmine. “Das flies me up to the turret.”

“No,” said Emdan firmly. “Das flies me. This is my adventure too.”

Jasmine stamped her foot. “The Witch sent me to help Das get the dragon‑skin box, not you.”

Das sat back and watched the royal argument unfold. When it showed no sign of stopping, he cleared his throat. They ignored him. He tried again, louder. Still ignored. Finally, he roared, loudly enough to shake the trees.

“I can carry both of you,” he said.

They stopped arguing at once and blushed.

“Sorry,” muttered Emdan.

“Me too,” said Jasmine. “We were being silly.”

“Yes,” said Das.

“Can you really fly with both of us?” asked Emdan, eyeing the dragon’s wings.

Das spread them. “These are mostly for steering. Dragons fly by magic, not flapping.”

“What about the magic around the turret?” asked Jasmine.

“My father’s armour will fit you,” said Emdan. “And the cloak will protect me.”

“I can fly you up,” said Das, “but there’s nowhere for me to land. I don’t see how either of you can get inside.”

“What was the roof like?” asked Emdan.

“Too small for me,” said Das, “but big enough for you two to stand on.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” said Jasmine, eager to begin.

It didn’t take long for her to put on the armour over her riding clothes. It fitted perfectly. Emdan fetched a coil of rope from the carriage.

“I thought I might need it to climb the mountain,” he explained.

Jasmine climbed onto Das’s back. “This is great, no pins and needles.”

Emdan looked nervously at the dragon. “Er… what do I hold on to?”

“If you tuck your legs under the scales you’ll be safe,” said Jasmine.

“And if you fall off, I’ll swoop down and catch you,” added Das.

“Not helping,” said Emdan faintly.

“It’s easier than riding a horse,” said Jasmine.

“Yes, well… I’m not very good at that either,” Emdan admitted, blushing.

Before another argument could start, Das sighed. “Tie a piece of rope around me. You can hold on to that.”

Emdan did so, and soon they were in the air.

“Isn’t this wonderful?” Jasmine shouted back.

Emdan shook his head and clung to the rope for dear life.

Das flew up the mountain toward the turret. As he had said, there was nowhere to land. He circled so they could see the roof and the narrow window.

“How close can you get?” Jasmine called.

“I can hover right above it.”

“Good. If I slide down the rope, I can drop onto the roof.”

Emdan squeaked.

“No other way,” said Jasmine. She slid down the rope until she hung beneath the dragon. Das hovered carefully over the turret. Jasmine let go and landed lightly on the roof.

To her surprise, Das returned with Emdan dangling from the rope. Jasmine stepped aside as Das lowered him gently beside her.

Emdan blushed. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun. And this is my adventure too.”

Jasmine nodded. “You wouldn’t fit through that window anyway.”

“Definitely not,” said Emdan. “And there’s no way in through the roof.”

Jasmine thought. “You’ll have to lower me down the side. I can climb in through the window.”

Emdan opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. “All right. I’ll tie the rope. I may not be brave, but I’m very good at knots.”

“I trust you,” said Jasmine.

He tied the rope securely around her waist and looped the other end around the battlements. Jasmine climbed over the edge and began to descend.

“I hope you don’t mind me not looking,” said Emdan. “I’m extremely scared of heights.”

“Just don’t let go of the rope,” Jasmine warned. “I’ll tug twice when I want to come up.”

“There’s no need for this,” said a voice beside her. “You could stand on my head and I’ll lower you to the window.”

It was Das, hovering silently.

“I feel safer with a rope,” said Jasmine. “But lowering me would help.”

She stepped onto his head and he lowered her to the window ledge. She climbed inside.

The room was almost empty. A single table stood in the centre, with one chair at the far end. On the table sat a box. The room was spotless, no dust, no cobwebs.

“Magic,” Jasmine murmured.

She took a step forward, and a figure appeared in the chair.

A young man in very old‑fashioned clothes, hands outstretched toward the box but not quite touching it. His face was the saddest she had ever seen.

“Have you come for the box?” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Yes,” said Jasmine.

“There is a dreadful spell on it,” he said. “If you are not the one meant to take it, you will stay here with me forever.” He sighed. “I hope you are the one. I have waited a very long time to be set free.”

“I’m wearing armour that magic can’t get through,” said Jasmine. “So, if there’s a spell, it can’t harm me.”

“I tried to open it,” he said. “There is great evil inside. Do not even think of opening it.”

“I won’t,” promised Jasmine.

“Please,” he whispered. “Set me free.”

Jasmine walked to the table and picked up the box.

The young man gasped. His hands crumbled to dust. “Thank you,” he breathed, and the rest of him dissolved.

A deep rumble shook the turret.

Jasmine scrambled onto the window ledge and tugged twice on the rope. She began climbing, clutching the box awkwardly.

“I do wish you’d remember I’m here,” said Das. He lifted her gently on his head until she reached the roof.

Emdan was clinging to the battlements with his eyes shut. The turret shook violently beneath them.

“Quickly!” said Das. “This turret is about to fall off the mountain.”

They scrambled onto his back. As they flew away, a tremendous crack echoed across the valley. The turret slid down the mountainside and vanished from sight.