At first they’re just blobs on the horizon—one red, and one blue—but then we can make out their wings and swinging tails. I glance back at the forest and Win’s cave, urging them to hurry up.

I needn’t worry. The dragons are so eager to see Rose that soon they’re diving toward us and landing with a crash. Win and I step backward, but Rose stays exactly where she is, still and calm, waiting for her dragons to come to her.

They race forward and nuzzle their snouts against her face. She strokes their necks and her touch turns them into overexcited puppies. They flop to the ground and stick out their legs so she can scratch their scaly stomachs.

Then she starts talking to them in her Obby Dobby language, making the dragons’ eyes half close and licks of fire roll from their happy gaping mouths. “Gobood boboys!” she says. “Gobood boboys!”

“That’s got to be hot,” says Win as Rose is enveloped in a cloud of smoke.

She reappears, wiping soot and sweat from her face. “I’ve told them that we need to go to the Crow’s Nest,” she says. “I’ll take Pickle and you two can have Vlad. Can you still remember how to fly a dragon, Arthur?”

I swallow. I want to get away from here, but right now Vlad is glaring at me through narrowed eyes. “Yep,” I say.

“So what are you waiting for?” says Rose. “Get on his back!”

“Come on,” says Win, pulling me forward.

We approach Vlad and try to climb his bulging side. But it’s hard, like scrambling up a roasting boulder, and we keep slipping down. Eventually, I manage to grab hold of a spike and pull myself up. Win does the same.

It’s much easier for Rose. She simply steps onto Pickle’s dipped head, walks along his neck, and settles down behind his ears. “Lobet’s gobo!” she says, and obediently Pickle stands up and starts to trot across the meadow.

“Lobet’s gobo!” I say to Vlad, imitating Rose’s confident voice.

Vlad stays exactly where he is.

Last time we were in Roar I discovered that all I needed to do to speak Rose’s mysterious dragon language was add “ob” before each vowel sound. Only this time it doesn’t seem to be working. I try again. “Lobet’s gobo, Vlad!”

He turns to look at me. Smoke seeps from between his teeth and a rumble starts somewhere deep inside him. This means he’s building up a great big bellyful of fire. I really wish he’d move his jaws away from the direction of my face. “Gobood boboy,” I say patting his head. “Robise.”