He was gripping the rope tightly, and even that seemed impossible now he was so tired. Somehow, he had to let go with one hand, and grab the next section, just a little higher, then repeat it, fist over fist, climbing up and up and up, grimly determined.

His palms were already raw and his arms were soon burning with agony. He counted in his head each time he reached up another fistful of rope, rewarding himself for every single tiny movement in the right direction. One … two … three … Somehow it helped him focus.

He’d just reached nine, when something huge flew over­head. Clinging to the rope, twisting his head round, he saw it was Milla and Thom on Ruby.

Joe felt as if he’d turned to ice, his mind frozen in shock and fear.

Where was Iggie? Where was Winter?

His mind felt numb and disbelieving. It made it impossi­ble to go on.

He hung there, arms screaming to let go.

And then, in a blur of blue wings, another dragon blotted out the sky and flew overhead: Iggie, with Winter clinging to his back.

They were leaving.

For a horrible, heart-stopping moment, Joe thought they were abandoning him. Then Iggie circled round and returned to hover, near enough for Winter to yell across to him. 161

‘Joe! There are more senglars up there. Too many to fight off.’

So what could Joe do? He couldn’t go up, and he couldn’t last long here. He gulped, desperate, looking down and wondering if he’d survive the fall.

If only he could leap across to Iggie – but he had nowhere to jump from. ‘Can you come nearer, Iggie?’ he shouted.

Iggie’s wings beat fast, but it was an impossible manoeu­vre, so close to the cliffs – he risked injuring his wings, and then they’d all be lost.

‘Trust Iggie!’ Winter was screaming. ‘That’s what Milla said. You have to trust him.’

‘To do what?’ he cried. Clinging to the rope, his arms were near their limits, hot and painful, he couldn’t hold on much longer. With his eyes squeezed tight against the sun, he caught a glimpse of the blue dragon.

Iggie was battling to hold position in the air, fixing him with his fierce green glare.

Help me, Joe thought. I can’t hold on.

His fingers started slipping on the rope, his mind a whirl of desperate fear. He was going to fall. The rope whipped through his belt. It rushed through his hands, burning his fingers. He caught the last section, hanging there by one hand. He had only moments left.

What had Winter said? Trust Iggie?

So he did. He screwed his eyes tight and let go, praying the blue dragon could reach him in time.

Iggie!

He was falling!162

And then he wasn’t.

‘Argh!’ he cried out, gripped by sharp claws.

The rope dangled uselessly against the cliff.

Joe was lifted by Iggie’s powerful talons. He was carried up, up, up, into the air, his palms ablaze, and his arms as stiff and solid as if they’d turned to stone. Iggie carried him right over the heads of the pack of grunting, snapping senglars, tiny eyes narrowed, furious at losing their prey.