Dracula by Bram Stoker (ereader with dictionary txt) 📕

places to rest that she could see. They dropped lower in the hopes of spotting something that could offer them surcease. Instead, the heat became unbearable with temperatures at ground level over one thousand degrees. They were forced to fly higher again.

“I don’t think I can keep flying much longer,” Damselfly warned.

“What’s that down there?” Buttons pointed.

The princess struggled to see through the clambering smoke. Eventually an opening allowed her an opportunity to glimpse what appeared to be a ship.

“Who could build a ship capable of sailing on lava?” Buttons questioned.

“Bakka!” Damselfly exclaimed.

With great relief they drifted lower until they could see details of the ship. It had a long and slender hull made from overlapping planks of wood with symmetrical ends. At the head of the ship, a dragon had been carved into the prow, its mouth wide open, threatening a stream of fire that was ironically all around them.

“How can a wooden ship float on lava?” Buttons asked.

“Magic,” Damselfly stated.

“I thought Bakka was a smith, not a sorcerer,” the animated rabbit voiced.

“He is, though his superior skills come from imbuing his work with magic,” Damselfly explained.

They alighted on the deck, which creaked under their feet disconcertingly. A small fragment of land resided nearby, and the princess hoped it would make finding Bakka easier. The duo continued on foot, stepping onto dry land cautiously as if the whole plateau might at any point sink into the river of fire.

“He can’t be far,” Damselfly acknowledged.

“I do not like this place,” Buttons commented, singeing his fur as he went over the side of the boat to safety.

“The sooner we find him the sooner we can leave,” the princess added.

Buttons could not imagine why anyone would voluntarily live in a garden like this; there was no food or water and the air was choked with foul fumes.

“What if the Matriarch is wrong and he’s not here?” Buttons queried.

“Look!”

Damselfly had caught sight of a figure sitting on the highest point of the islet, looking out over the rivers of lava. Despite their excitement they approached slowly with Buttons keeping close behind Damselfly who strode forward purposefully. The man never turned, holding his gaze towards the horizon. Even when Damselfly called his name, there seemed to be no recognition.

“Maybe he’s deaf,” Buttons considered.

“No, he’s just been alone for too long,” Damselfly realised.

The man had long, curly hair that was plastered to his blackened face. An unkempt beard trailed down to his navel, which was dangerously emaciated.

“Bakka?” Damselfly started. “My name is Princess Damselfly and I have come all the way from Thronegarden to seek your help.”

The stranded figure did not react. His glazed eyes stared outwards across the void, seeming to view something that no one else could imagine.

“Please, we need your help,” Damselfly pleaded.

Bakka finally reacted, moving his head slowly to get a better look at his unexpected guests. The smith’s clothes were tattered and the soles of his shoes worn through.

“I cannot help,” he whispered in a voice that sounded like water travelling through stones.

“You are the only one that can,” Damselfly begged. “We need to know how to reach the Evergarden.”

“You can’t, I made sure of that.”

With that, the smith returned to his lookout position and refused to talk further. Damselfly sat down where she stood and wondered what they would do now.

Orion had found them.

The sorcerer wore a fierce expression. His red cape billowed behind him like a malevolent specter, and the crescent birthmark on his face seemed to shimmer with intensity. Damselfly tried to scream though no sound exited her mouth. She attempted to run but tripped over a loose stone and could not get up. As Orion pounced, she woke up with a start to find herself still in the Lavagarden with Buttons sleeping nearby. Bakka remained in his lookout position, staring into the distance without comprehension, and Damselfly felt her fear turn to anger.

“How long have you been here?” she demanded.

“I have no way of knowing,” the smith replied.

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“The Fairy King taking power.” Bakka shivered as he spoke the words.

“Well, the Fairy King was defeated in a rebellion led by my father and uncle,” Damselfly illuminated. “Unfortunately, when he was captured, the Fairy King destroyed Death’s timepiece and stopped time across Fable. Now there is not enough food to eat, no new life can be created and even magic is running out.”

“It is all my fault,” Bakka confessed.

“How could it be your fault?” the princess questioned.

“I was born in Thronegarden centuries ago,” Bakka started. “Back then Fable was one large continent with multiple lakes linking north, east, south and west. My father was a shipwright working at the castle; he made me his apprentice from a young age and I excelled. By the age of twelve, I was already a master; at fourteen I was overseeing a group of four other craftsmen, and by fifteen I had designed the greatest ship the world had ever known.”

Damselfly looked across at the dragon-headed boat, which sat perfectly still upon a bed of molten lava.

“How does it do that?” she posed.

“Every year we would lose a few ships to bad seas or sudden storms,” Bakka recalled. “I was ambitious and wanted to see everything that Fable could offer so I needed a craft that would take me anywhere. I created a boat capable of sailing any sea, even one made of fire and I named it Furio.”

“It is magical,” Damselfly remarked.

“I wish I had never begun working with magic; it is fickle compared with natural materials and has a way of corrupting your intentions.”

“Without it you never would have been able to make Furio,” Damselfly noted.

“Perhaps that would have been for the best,” Bakka sighed. “After leaving the