Dragonfang by Paul Collins

Author:Paul Collins [Collins, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Young Adult, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780143003090
Amazon: 1459670558
Goodreads: 3760721
Publisher: Penguin Books
Published: 2004-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Next on the list was Belforrey the Bat Man. He lived three weeks away by coach. As Fa’red made the journey, he took extensive notes and calculations. Thus, by the time he reached his destination, he had a complete set of specifications ready.

Fa’red showed him the plans and specifications for what he wanted.

‘Well, yes, I could grow you a set of bat wings that could move the weight that you require to be airborne. A fruit bat’s wings would be best, enlarged and strengthened by magical means,’ Belforrey said. They were seated inside a tower.

‘You see, Fa’red, the wings have to be strong as well as light if you want to fly. It would be easy to grow very light wings that could not even support their own weight. Or very sturdy wings that could not push down enough air to get even, well, my weight off the ground. But strong and light together takes skill, brilliance, flair, even artistry.’ He wandered over to the window to admire the belfry on the adjacent tower. For some reason, he had caused a belfry to be built on each of his thirteen towers.

‘But can it be done?’ said Fa’red.

‘Of course. I have flair and artistry. You take a fruit bat pup from its mother’s pouch, and soak it in some foul-smelling gunk brewed in a dark cellar. I would have to hire one of those, of course – I only have belfries in this castle. This kills the bat pup but allows the wings to grow to a virtually unlimited size. Of course, there is the matter of feeding. You would need a very large vat, the type that breweries use.’

‘Perhaps filled with digestive fluids and chicken feed?’ suggested Fa’red.

‘Oh no, you can’t grow bats on chicken feed. You need fruit, or at least fruit peelings, selected kitchen scraps. It would be expensive, but you would get a very nice set of wings. To tell the truth, I rather fancy myself with such a set of wings. One could put a saddle on the barrel, and steer it with a pair of reins and some pedals and levers. Launching could be a problem though. You would need ten-foot-tall legs to reach take-off speed.’

‘Oh, very impractical,’ said Fa’red.

‘But wait. I could have my peasants build a stretch of perfectly level ground a mile long and fifty feet wide. Then I could put wheels on the barrel and get into the air.’

‘You could call it an airstrip,’ Fa’red said, thinking of a diabolical paraworld he had visited once.

‘What?’ said Belforrey. ‘Oh yes, very clever, Fa’red.’

‘Of course, you could not go anywhere,’ Fa’red pointed out. ‘No road on the entire continent is straight for more than a hundred yards or so, and they tend to be crowded with peasants, carts, armies on the march, and nobles in coaches.’

‘No problem for me. I will only take off and land here, at my castle. Mind you, there is the question of range.’

‘Range?’

‘Oh, yes. The wings would get hungry after all the exertion of flying.

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