Read Online The Last Dragon Chronicles: Fire World: Fire World by Chris D'Lacey - Free Book Online

up with Mr Henry when the curator next invited them into his study.
    Things did not improve on the next shelf along. Here she found a whole collection of books that appeared to be just about the use of words. ‘Dictionaries’, they were called. They varied in thickness and density of writing, but all had one thing in common. The entries, in bold type, were in perfect alph order. She tingled with

    envy to see such a thing and felt inspired to rush back to her work right away. A slight groan from David’s lips reminded her that her duty – this day – was to him.
    She slid the dictionary back onto its shelf.   Fascinating   as   David  would undoubtably find it, it didn’t lend itself to fluid reading. She glanced across the room. On the shelves opposite were several rows of books with jazzy spines. She yanked one out. It was about something called ‘snooker’.
    Rosa drew her head back, as if she had just smelled something unsavoury. She opened the book with one finger. The pages were old and brown and wavy. They made a slight crackling sound as they parted. The book fell open at a picture of a well-dressed man with neatly-combed

    hair, bending across a high green table, pointing a long thin stick at a cluster of coloured balls.
    What on Co:pern:ica…?
    Another groan from David brought her to attention. Whatever this snooker thing was, it was going to have to do. She plonked herself down on the bed beside the boy. His eyelids were flickering, but firmly closed. Rosa gulped and re-opened the book, somewhere in the middle, at a section called ‘Tech:nique’.
    “‘The striking of the cue ball,’”   she read aloud, “‘   is what determines good positional play. It is not just a question of studying angles. Knowing where to hit the white, and with what degree of pressure or follow-through, is what separates the professional player from

    the amateur.’   ”
    That was as far as her reading got. She was about to close the book and look for something a little less dreary, when she glanced down and noticed the daisy chain was missing from David’s wrist. She gasped and jumped up. He must have lost it outside, during the attack. Anxious not to leave him, she headed for the window, hoping she could lean out and spot it. She was just a few paces from the light when there came a heavy fluttering of wings and the recess was occupied by the silhouette of a firebird.
    “MR HENRY!” Rosa screamed for the curator at the top of her voice. But the old man did not come running and the firebird by now had swooped inside to perch squarely on the headboard, right above

    David’s pillow. It was the same red birdthat had flamed the boy earlier. It stareddown at him and twisted its prominentbeak.
    “Get away!” Rosa yelled, and hurled the snooker book.
    She missed – practically by the width of the bed – but the firebird had set its sights away from David anyway and was already flying towards the nearest shelf of books.
    Unbalanced by her throw, Rosa lostsight of the creature for a moment. Theclattering sound of books raining downupon the floor quickly identified itswhereabouts. To her astonishment, thebird was going along the uppermostshelves, clawing the contents off them asif it intended to destroy the whole

    collection. It was certainly disrupting the order Mr Henry had so fondly created. Rosa leapt to her feet and stormed across the floor, balling her fists, her boot laces trailing.
    “What are you   doing ?” she screamed. “What’s   wrong   with you? Stop it! Stop it!
    You   horrible   thing. What have we done todeserve   this ?”
    Then, the most extraordinary thinghappened. The firebird did stop throwingdown the books and hovered by one inparticular. A glowing white light emergedfrom its eyes and strobed the spine for acouple of moments. Then it stretched itshooked claws forward and appeared to select   the book from the