Forest Kingdom Trilogy 1 - Blue Moon Rising

things waking and moving that had no place in the time of man. The world itself seemed to be changing subtly as the
    dragon carried his passengers deeper into the night. More and more Rupert had the feeling that it was they who were out of place; that the world had moved on, and he and his kind no longer belonged.
    The power of the full Blue Moon: to reshape reality itself.
    Rupert shook his head quickly to clear it. So far, nothing had been done to the Land itself that could not be undone by the Demon Prince's death. At least, that was what he'd been told. Rupert frowned. He was no longer sure he believed much of what he was told.
    'How are you managing, dragon?' Rupert asked, as much for the comfort of hearing his own voice as anything else.
    'I feel fine,' said the dragon, his wings moving easily in a strong, steady rhythm. 'I feel. . . young again.
    My bones no longer ache, my wind is sound, and I can see for ever. I'd forgotten how good it felt to be young. It's the Wild Magic, Rupert, I can feel it, singing in my blood. The Wild Magic, loose in the world again, just as it was in my younger days. The days before the coming of man.'
    'Was that a better time for you?' asked Rupert slowly.
    'Better?' The dragon fell silent for a while, and his great brow furrowed as he flew steadily on into the night. 'It was . . . different.'

    The Darkwood stretched away beneath them, an endless tangled mass of interlocking branches. Gnarled and twisted boughs curled together in an intricate embrace of rotting wood. Savage thorns thrust up through the Darkwood roof, some dappled with recent bloodstains. Shimmering blue moonlight glistened on the decaying branches, and the sweet stench of corruption was everywhere.
    'This may well be a stupid question,' said Julia, 'but how are we supposed to find the Demon Prince through that lot? It'll take us hours to cut our way through, with no guarantee we're even in the right place.'
    'I'll find the Demon Prince,' said the Astrologer grimly. 'My magic will lead us right to him.'
    'And what are we going to do when we find him?' asked Julia.
    'Destroy him,' said the King. 'The Land cries out for vengeance.'
    'Sure,' said Julia. 'Destroy him. Just like that. You haven't the faintest idea of how to go about it, have you?'
    'We'll do what we can,' said Rupert. 'We'll try cold steel first. If that doesn't work, we'll try magic. If that doesn't work, the dragon can breathe fire on him.'
    'And if that doesn't work!'
    'Then we're in big trouble.'
    'Great,' said Julia. 'Just great.'
    The endless canopy of interwoven branches flowed steadily away beneath them like a solid, unmoving ocean. The oppressive horror of the long night was a little easier to bear above the Darkwood itself, but still the darkness pressed in around the dragon. It weighed heavily on his wings, and grew stronger the further he flew into the night, almost as though it were trying to force him back. Rupert could feel a pressure mounting against them as they flew on, and the dragon had to labour harder and harder to maintain his pace. The beating of his wings took on a more urgent rhythm, and his breathing became harsh and strained. There were voices in the darkness, muttering and laughing and screaming, and more than once Rupert felt a soft, unsettling touch on his hands or face. He didn't know whether the others could feel anything, and didn't ask. He didn't want to know. He kept wanting to let go of the dragon's neck and strike out at the darkness around him, to make whatever it was keep their distance, but he didn't. He couldn't afford to lose control now, not even for a moment. Easy, lad, easy , he thought determinedly. They're just trying to spook you, that's all. Don't let them know how well they're succeeding.
    'Down there,' said the Astrologer suddenly, pointing out and to his left. 'There's a kind of clearing, covered over. That's where we'll find the Demon Prince.'
    'Are you sure?' asked the King.
    'Oh yes, John,' said the Astrologer. 'I'm sure.'
    The dragon looked quickly back to see where the Astrologer was pointing, and then turned and glided down towards the roof of the Darkwood. The huge thorns rose up to meet him. At the last moment the dragon spread his jaws wide, and bright roaring flames spilled out on to the thorns and branches, eating through them like acid. The flames couldn't seem to take a lasting hold on the dead wood, but they quickly opened up a hole in the canopy large enough for the dragon to fall