The Eyes of the Dragon(84)

Dennis had known that the ice would begin to grow danger-ously rotten as he got closer to the outflow pipe. Even if he hadn't known, he was able to see the three feet or so of open water next to the wall.

Things weren't so easy for Ben, Naomi, and Frisky. They had simply assumed that if the ice was thick along the moat's outer bank, it must be thick all the way across. And their eyes were of little use to them in the thickly falling snow.

Frisky's eyes were the weakest of the three, and she was in the lead. Her ears were sharp enough, and she had heard the ice groaning beneath the new snow... but the scent was too much on her mind for her to take much notice of the faint creaks... until the ice gave way beneath her and she plunged into the moat with a splash.

"Frisky! Fr-"

Ben clapped a hand over her mouth. She struggled to get away from him. Ben had now seen the danger, however, and held her fast.

Naomi needn't have worried. Of course all dogs can swim, and with her thick, oily coat, Frisky was safer in the water than either of the humans would have been. She paddled almost to the castle wall amid chunks of rotted ice and whipped-cream globs of snow that quickly turned into dark slush and disap-peared. She raised her head, smelling, searching for the scent... and when she knew where it went, she turned and paddled back toward Ben and Naomi. She found the edge of the ice. Her paws broke it off, and she tried again. Naomi cried out.

"Be still, Naomi, or you'll have us in the dungeons by dawn," Ben said. "Hold my ankles." He let her go and then sprawled on his belly. Naomi crouched behind him and seized his boots. This close to the ice, Ben could hear it groaning and muttering. It could have been one of us, he thought, and that would have been trouble indeed.

He spread his legs out a bit to distribute his weight better, and then grabbed Frisky by the forepaws just below her wide, strong chest. "Here you come, girl," Ben grunted. "I hope." Then he pulled.

For a moment, Ben thought that the ice would just go on breaking under Frisky's weight as he dragged her forward-first he and then Naomi would follow Frisky into the moat. Crossing that moat on his way into the castle to play with his friend Peter on a summer's day, with blue sky and white clouds reflecting off its surface, Ben had always thought it beautiful, like a paint-ing. He had never once suspected that he might die in it one black night during a snowstorm. And it smelled very bad.

"Pull me backward!" he grunted. "Your damn dog weighs a ton!"

"Don't you say mean things about my dog, Ben Staad!"

Ben's eyes were slitted shut with strain, his lips split open over clenched teeth. "A million pardons. And if you don't start pulling me, I'm going to be taking a bath, I think."

Somehow she managed to do it, although Ben and Frisky together must have been three times her own weight. Ben's prone, splayed body dug a channel in the new powder; a snow pyramid built up in his crotch, the way it will build up in the angle of a wooden plow.

At last-it seemed like "at last" to Ben and Naomi, although in truth it was probably only a matter of seconds-Frisky's chest stopped breaking the ice and slid onto it. A moment later, her rear paws were digging for purchase. Then she was up and shaking herself vigorously. Dirty moat water sprayed into Ben's face.

"Pah!" he grimaced, wiping it off. "Thanks a lot, Frisky!"

But Frisky paid no attention. She was looking toward the wall of the castle again. Although the ice was already freezing to her pelt in dirty spicules, the scent was what interested her. She had smelled it clearly, above her but not far above her. There was a darkness there. No cold white no-smell stuff there.

Ben was getting to his feet, brushing the snow off.

"I'm sorry I yelled like that," Naomi whispered. "If it had been any other dog but Frisky... do you think I was heard?"

"If you'd been heard, we'd have been challenged," Ben whispered back. "Gods, that was close." Now they could see the open water just in front of the ancient stone wall of Castle Delain's outer redan, because they were looking for it.

"What do we do?"

"We can't go on," Ben whispered, "that's obvious. But what did he do, Naomi? Where did he go from here? Maybe he did fly"

"If we-"

But Naomi never finished the thought, because that was when Frisky took matters into her own paws. All of her ancestors had been famous hunters, and it was in her blood. She had been set upon this exciting, enticing electric-blue scent, and she found she could not leave it. So she screwed her haunches down to the ice, tensed her sled-toughened muscles, and leaped into the dark. Her eyes, as I've said, were the least of her sensory equipment, and her leap really was blind; she could not see the dark hole of the sewer pipe from the edge of the ice.

But she had seen it from the water, and even if she hadn't, she had her nose, and she knew it was there.

Chapter 16

106

It's Flagg, Dennis's sleep-fuddled mind thought as that dark shape with the burning eyes swept down on him. It's Flagg, he's found me, and now he'll rip my throat out with his teeth

He tried to scream, but no sound came out.

The mouth of the intruder did open; Dennis saw huge white teeth... and then a big warm tongue was lapping his face.

"Ulf!" Dennis said, trying to push the thing away. Paws came up on either shoulder, and Dennis fell back on his mattress of napkins like a pinned wrestler. Lap-lap, lick-lick. "Ulf!" Dennis said again, and the dark, shaggy shape uttered a low, companionable woof, as if to say I know it, I'm glad to see you, too.