Toby Fisher and the White Fury by Ian McFarlane

Author:Ian McFarlane
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Young Adult, Magic, Action & Adventure, Family, Fantasy, Dragons, Boys, King Arthur, Ghosts, Friendship
ISBN: 9781091547858
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2019-03-26T04:00:00+00:00

24 - The Dragon Prize

Magnus guided the three friends up a roughly chiselled stone staircase; with effort he pushed open a thick-set looking wooden door at the top. The room behind stretched sideways so far it was almost impossible to see the end. One side of the room was open to the outside allowing natural light to spill in; the amphitheatre was clearly visible. On the back wall were chiselled dragon heads, each one different in design. There appeared so many they likely numbered over one hundred, stretching down the wall so far their design was hard to see in the distance, except for their eyes that shone like rubies.

‘Fascinating, isn’t it?’ said Magnus.

‘Was Pellinore a dragon rider?’ Arty was running his hand over a name chiselled into the wall over a dragon head.

‘One of the best,’ said Magnus. ‘But his dragon was killed in battle, and Pellinore simply faded away. This place is a memorial but few come here now.’

‘Because?’

‘The modern riders are amateurs in comparison and are not worthy to share the stories that these riders speak of. But you are different, Toby. You are worthy.’

‘What about the elven warrior?’ said Arty. ‘She was bloody good.’

‘She was also unseated and lucky to have escaped with her life. No dragon will touch her now. However,—’ Magnus held the medallion for all to see ‘—let us concentrate on the task in hand.’

He handed the medallion to Toby and pointed at an indentation on the table's surface. When Toby slotted it into place its edges glowed and chased across the table following etched lines.

‘As you can already see the table is a map of Britain and the lines show the old territories: Celtic Britons in the west and the Anglo-Saxons in the east.’

‘So what are those bright spots?’ said Fay.

‘The red spots indicate Arthur’s strategic locations: his sleeping army…’

‘Snowdon,’ said Fay. ‘And this?’

‘That is an old Roman amphitheatre with fabulous acoustics.’

‘Is it the Round Table?’ said Arty.

‘That makes sense,’ said Toby. ‘Arthur was a Celtic Briton, and Wales was their last stronghold.’

‘So what’s that then?’ said Arty, leaning across the table and prodding a glowing red light.

‘Its the ruins of Old Sarum, close to the modern city of Salisbury, and very close to where the Battle of Camlann happened.’

‘Arthur’s last battle! So you’re saying that’s where Excalibur is buried?’

‘The site has been searched countless times but no one has found anything – the Cor Gwar are not that cooperative.’

‘The Cor Gwar?’

‘Old Sarum is home to a witch clan called the Cor Gwar.’

‘I bet Griselda’s already got Excalibur.’

‘No, the Cor Gwar are loyal to the red dragon; they just won’t let anybody in. The blue lights on the map indicate fae,’ said Magnus.

‘You mean healing centres, don’t you? Like Tintagel village?’ said Fay, pointing at a spot moving south towards London.

‘I hate to pee on your fireworks but if this map gets in to the wrong hands it could be very dangerous,’ said Arty.

‘Not even the mad monk would dare come to dragon island.

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