Gruffen Read Online Free Page B

wings the way a person might shrug. There was sadness in her voice when she piped up next. “My batlets might die of cold,” she said.
    “Batlets?” said Gruffen.
    “My babies,” she replied. “They need to be born inside.”
    Gruffen frowned hard. This was worse than he’d thought. Bat babies? They would need serious guarding. “You could come and have your batlets in my roof,” he suggested.
    “Can I?” squeaked Hattie.
    Gruffen blew a puff of smoke. Without looking at his book of procedures he couldn’t be sure he was doing the right thing. It was that word, “die”, which convinced him that he was. But before he could say yes, Hattie was setting off.
    “You live near the street lamp, don’t you?” she peeped.
    “Yes,” said Gruffen, feeling giddy as he tried to fly upright again.

    Hattie was by it in moments. “Is it this house?” she asked.
    Gruffen blinked, dizzied by the glow of the lamp.
    “This one’s got a hole!” he heard Hattie say.
    He looked up in time to see her fly under Henry Bacon’s eaves.
    “No!” he shouted and dashed in after her.
    The streetlight faded and the blackness of Mr Bacon’s attic consumed him. And then whumph! he flew into something stringy which caught in his wings and stopped them in an instant. Something wooden clattered down out of the rafters, narrowly missing his head. After that, the harder he flapped, the more trapped he became. Soon his feet and his tail became tangled up as well. He fired out a jet of flame, but it disappeared into the depths of the roof space, lighting it briefly, showing his predicament. He was caught.
    Caught in a net in Henry Bacon’s roof.

Chapter Seven

    Almost immediately, Gruffen heard a shout from in the room below the attic. He couldn’t hear what words the voice was saying, but he could clearly understand the tone. It was Mr Bacon, sounding surprised. Any moment now, he would be coming up to see what was happening.
    “Help!” Gruffen cried out to Hattie.
    He heard her come swishing around his head. Amazingly, even in the dark of the roof, she could still fly brilliantly. “I think you need to practise your pinging,” she said. She swooped over him and landed. He could hear her feet scratching on a nearby rafter. At least she was safe. But he wasn’t. What would happen if Mr Bacon saw him in this net, even in his solid state? And Liz was going to be very angry. What could she say that would possibly explain the presence of one of her dragons here?
    “You’ve got to get me out,” he panted to Hattie. “The man who lives here doesn’t like dragons.”
    “Oh dear,” said Hattie. “I’ll try to bite through the net.” There was a flutter and her feet touched down on his shoulders. Her body felt furry against his scales. “There’s a lot of it,” she said, tugging at the bits around Gruffen’s ears. He heard it ripping and his nerves settled slightly, but not for long.
    Suddenly, a column of light appeared as a door flapped back against the joists of the ceiling. Mr Bacon’s head popped up through the hole. “Right, what’s going on here?” he muttered. He shone a torch around the roof. It flashed in Hattie’s eyes and she gave her wings a flap.
    “A-ha!” cried Mr Bacon. He was up his ladders like a March hare. “Bacon’s bat catcher! Works a treat!” He fumbled his way across the ceiling, being careful to stand on the firm wooden joists and not the fragile plaster in between. His torch light wobbled around Gruffen’s head. By now the young dragon had worked out a plan. Instead of flaming, if he spread his spark throughout his body scales and simply heated them up, perhaps he could melt the net? He felt sure it would work, but would he have time to do it before Mr Bacon reached this corner?
    As it happened, he suddenly found plenty of time. Mr Bacon had stopped in the middle of the ceiling and was doing some kind of dance. This involved balancing on one foot and swinging his torch at an object