Benjamin Forrest and the Bay of Paper Dragons (Endinfinium Book 2) by Chris Ward

Author:Chris Ward [Ward, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: AMMFA Publishing
Published: 2018-01-30T22:00:00+00:00

27

Broken Wheels

The front wheel fell off of the bicycle. Wilhelm managed to jump clear as the bike slumped forward, landing in the wet grass as its wheel rolled away down the slope, then he rolled over to look back at the school’s uppermost towers still visible over the rise.

He had gone perhaps five miles. No way he would ever get to the Bay of Paper Dragons in time to warn Benjamin and Miranda about Cuttlefur and the innkeeper’s plans. Before he was even halfway, they would be dead, or worse.

It had crossed his mind to go straight to the teachers. After all, he and his friends had saved the school once. But in the corridors of an educational facility, good deeds were quickly erased by the bad, even here in Endinfinium. No one except for Grand Lord Bastien would believe him, and ever since the Dark Man’s attack, the Grand Lord had stayed in his tower, unavailable and unseen, doing whatever it was Grand Lords do. Of the other main teachers still at the school, that left Captain Roche and Professor Loane, neither of whom liked him much, and both of whom were highly unlikely to believe him if he made any accusation against Cuttlefur.

So, he had no choice but to attempt to get to the Bay of Paper Dragons by his own steam. He had gone first to the school’s garage, where a number of old cars, motorbikes, and bicycles stood lined up, collecting dust. Unable to locate a key for anything motorised, he was stuck with the least water-damaged of the school’s bicycle fleet.

Considering the harshness of the dirt-and-rock paths meandering through the hills to the north, south, and west of the school, the bike had done quite well just to get him this far. Unfortunately, it would go no farther.

He hefted the bag of provisions he had poached from the kitchens on his own special kind of long-term borrow and struck out along the track. He had gone no more than a few steps, though, when he turned his ankle on a loose rock.

‘Waste of time!’ he shouted and, sitting down on the turf beside the path, threw his bag aside, rubbing furiously at his throbbing ankle.

He had to return to the school, tell the teachers what he had overheard, and hope they believed him.

‘Might as well just bang my head against a brick wall,’ he muttered.

A few spots of rain appeared, and Wilhelm scowled, then climbed off the path and headed for a stand of scrubby trees in a hollow a short distance inland. He had enough food for a week’s expedition, a torch, and a handful of comic books to keep him entertained when he stopped for the night, but he hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella or any kind of jacket. As the rain began to get heavier, he realised how useless the nearly leafless branches of the wind-bent trees would be for shelter. Faced with no choice, he jammed himself into the space between the thickest of the crooked trees and tried to pretend he wasn’t getting soaked.

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