The Secret Dragon

by Ed Clarke

  And a father to commemorate.

  ‘Hang on a minute.’ Mari was incredulous. ‘You let Ffion into your house?’

  She and Dylan were sitting on a rocky sliver of beach at Llanwerydd Point in the shadow of the castle. Gweeb was in his travel terrarium. The sea crashed in front of them.

  ‘She said she came back because she was worried about the snake.’

  ‘And you believed her?’

  ‘Look, all I showed her were a few sick animals in the holding pens.’

  ‘Oh, did you show her some wittle orphan kittens?’ Mari opened her eyes wide and slow-blinked an impression of Ffion.

  ‘That’s all,’ said Dylan. ‘I told her she couldn’t see the snake because it was too sick and needed to be kept on its own in the shed.’

  ‘Well, I don’t like it. And I don’t trust Ffion.’ Mari folded her arms.

  ‘You’re overreacting. She’s nicer than you think she is.’

  ‘So you keep saying,’ said Mari. ‘Do you at least have the photos?’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ said Dylan, wincing slightly as he handed over a small packet. ‘I can explain –’

  Mari let out a yelp of exasperation. They were all blurry. In most of them, Gweeb was nothing more than a red smudge, far too out of focus to show the all-important detail Mari wanted.

  ‘I think I zoomed in too much,’ Dylan explained.

  ‘You don’t say,’ Mari snapped back.

  ‘On the bright side, they gave me a memory stick with them on as well,’ said Dylan. ‘And look – this one’s not too bad.’

  He pulled out the shot of Mari laughing as Gweeb licked her face. It was the best of the bunch – Gweeb was at least a dragon-shaped blur – but it was hardly conclusive, and certainly not the sort of thing they put on the cover of the International Journal of Science. This was not the way she wanted to present her study to Dr Griff.

  ‘It’s not that bad,’ said Dylan.

  ‘Isn’t it?’ said Mari sharply, picking up Gweeb’s box and getting to her feet. ‘This is my big chance, Dylan. And you’re kind of wrecking it.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Dylan sarcastically, standing and grabbing the box from his side. ‘You know what, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think we should be telling anyone about Gweeb. I’m worried about what’ll happen to him.’

  Mari pulled on the box. Dylan yanked it back.

  ‘You mean, now you’ve already told someone about him?’

  ‘I didn’t tell anyone!’ Dylan said angrily. ‘What do you think they’re going to do with Gweeb at the Natural History Museum anyway? It’s a place for dead animals. For specimens, not living creatures. If he’s lucky, they’ll ship him off to London Zoo to live in a cage for the rest of his life. If not, he’ll be stuffed and mounted in a glass box.’

  ‘They wouldn’t do that!’ snarled Mari, trying to wrench the box out of Dylan’s hands.

  ‘You don’t know what they’d do! You’re not thinking about Gweeb at all. You’re only thinking about what you get out of all this.’

  ‘It’s not for me, it’s for my dad!’

  ‘Oh really? Are you sure?’

  Mari was livid – perhaps because a part of what Dylan was saying rang true, and she didn’t want to admit it to herself. With one final heave she snatched the box out of Dylan’s hands, overbalanced, fell backwards and dropped the box on the rocks. As it hit the stones, the lid snapped clean off, and Mari and Dylan could only look on helplessly as Gweeb launched himself into the air and away.

  ‘Gweeb!’ they yelled in unison, but he was already picking up speed as he darted out to sea.

  ‘Come back, please!’ cried Mari. She turned to Dylan in panic, their argument forgotten. ‘Get some worms!’

  ‘Look! He’s coming back,’ replied Dylan.

  It was true – before he’d gone very far, Gweeb had banked to the left, veering back to the beach, and was starting to turn circles in a bewildered circuit.

  ‘He’s doing the searching thing again,’ said Mari. ‘Now we can work out what for.’

  But before they could get close, a seagull suddenly appeared from the clifftop and began harrying Gweeb. He whipped high into the air to avoid it, off in the direction of the castle, before disappearing out of sight.

  Mari slumped. ‘Now we’re really done for,’ she said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘That castle isn’t just a castle,’ she explained. ‘It’s a school. An international school, full of kids with smartphones and Instagram accounts. If they see Gweeb, it won’t just be the talk of Llanwerydd, it’ll be right round the world in minutes.’

  ‘Well, let’s get him back before they see him then,’ said Dylan, suddenly determined, as he offered his hand to Mari to help her over the rocks.

  ‘What’s that for then?’ Mari looked down at his outstretched hand. ‘I’d like to think I can climb over a rock by myself, Dylan.’ He hurriedly pulled it away again. She smiled mischievously, accepting the temporary truce between them. Together they scrambled back to the stone cliff steps. At the top they came to a sea wall protecting the castle grounds from the elements, as well as from unwanted guests. A chain was strung across a gateway with a notice proclaiming NO TRESPASSERS. Mari climbed straight over.

  ‘Are you sure this is OK?’ asked Dylan.

  ‘We’re not trespassers,’ said Mari. ‘We’re locals. Come on!’

  No sooner were Mari and Dylan through the gateway than a man appeared out of a building way off to their right, waving his arms. Mari ran left, ducking behind a boathouse. She fell against the wall, trying to catch her breath as Dylan caught up.

  ‘Are you sure –’

  But Dylan couldn’t finish his sentence because Mari had already bounced herself back off the wall and was running towards the castle. He cast a look up to the heavens and raced after her. They snuck along behind a few more school buildings before emerging on to a large sports field. Above them was the castle and, in between, a series of terraced gardens like a giant’s staircase.

  ‘Where do you think he’s gone?’ asked Dylan.

  Mari looked skyward, searching for clues. A couple of seagulls were flying erratically up above the castle walls, darting back and forth as if they were chasing something …

  ‘Up there!’ she whispered, as loud as she dared.

  They set off across the field towards a set of stone steps, but at the same moment the man who’d tried to stop them getting in appeared round the corner of the castle. They froze, hoping he hadn’t seen them, just as a group of teenagers appeared out of one of the other buildings. Mari grabbed Dylan’s arm and ran across to join the back of the group. She glanced nervously over her shoulder to see if the man had noticed, but he was still looking everywhere but at them. Meanwhile a pair of girls had turned to see who the two interlopers were.

  ‘Ils sont trop mignons, ces deux,’ said one, smiling at her friend.

  ‘Eet is your boyfriend?’ the other asked Mari in a strong French accent.

  Mari put on the biggest smile she could muster, and threw an arm round Dylan. ‘Please don’t tell anyone you’ve seen us,’ she said, tapping her nose with her index finger. ‘It’s a secret.’

  The French girls tapped their noses in return and giggled. Dylan tapped his nose too, and laughed a little too loudly.

  As the group climbed the steps, Mari craned her neck to try and catch a glimpse of Gweeb. When the teenagers reached the top and peeled away, Mari caught sight of the tiny dragon again, still wheeling in the sky, hotly pursued by the two gulls. She watched in horror as one of them seemed to catch Gweeb’s tail, sending him tumbling towards the ground.

  Mari gasped as he disappeared behind a high hedge, closely followed by the birds. She and Dylan raced up another set of steps into a rose garden – to see the gulls pecking at a stone gargoyle set into one of the flowerbeds. As they ran forward, shouting and waving their arms, the startled gulls took flight, revealing Gweeb, who was trembling at the clawed feet of t
he statue. He whimpered and wheezed, flapping his wings to get away from them.

  ‘It’s me, Gweeb, it’s Mari.’

  She reached out a hand to comfort the dragon as he cowered behind the statue.

  ‘I’m sorry, Gweeb,’ she tried again. ‘We’ll look after you better. I promise.’

  But he only shrank further away, nestling right up to the gargoyle, nuzzling against its stony face.

  ‘I don’t think he wants us to look after him,’ said Dylan softly.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean,’ said Dylan, ‘I think I know what he’s been searching for.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Mari asked.

  ‘He’s been trying to get back to where he hatched … to find his family.’

  Mari looked back at Gweeb. He seemed more vulnerable than ever. A tiny, gull-battered body, breathing heavily. She turned to Dylan again. ‘But we have no evidence for that.’

  ‘Look at the statue, Mari,’ replied Dylan.

  Mari did. And her breath caught in her throat.

  The gargoyle wasn’t a gargoyle at all. With a long, serpentine body, two stony wings and a pair of clawed feet, it was a dragon.

  ‘Wait, you think Gweeb thinks this thing is, like, his mother?’

  ‘It’s possible,’ Dylan replied.

  Mari shook her head. ‘It’s a reptile, Dylan, not a baby. It’s been chased by some predators and it’s hiding behind a rock. It’s just instinct. And pretty sensible it is too.’

  Dylan’s face darkened. ‘Oh, it’s an “it” again now then?’ Not “he”? Not Gweeb?’

  Mari rounded on him. ‘What good is a mother to a reptile, Dylan? I’m sure I’d get along fine without one. And you don’t seem to have needed one either.’

  Dylan flushed as red as Gweeb, and pointed his finger at Mari. ‘You speak for yourself, Mari Jones. You don’t know anything about my family.’

  He held out his hand to the dragon. Gweeb tentatively stuck his snout forward to sniff, before stepping cautiously on to it.

  ‘He’s not coming to you because he likes you more,’ said Mari, flustered. ‘You smell of food, that’s all.’

  ‘Whatever,’ said Dylan, gently stroking Gweeb’s scaly head with a fingertip.

  ‘And don’t think I’m letting you take him back after what you did.’

  ‘It’s still the safest place, and you know it,’ said Dylan coldly. ‘I’m taking him home now.’

  ‘It’s not his home,’ said Mari. ‘It’s just the place you’re keeping him.’

  ‘And it’s the best place to care for Gweeb.’

  Mari’s eyes were ablaze. Even if Dylan were right, she wasn’t going to accept it. ‘But he’s my dragon,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Oh really?’ said Dylan. ‘Well, let’s let Gweeb choose, shall we?’

  ‘OK, fine,’ retorted Mari.

  Carefully, Dylan put Gweeb back on the gargoyle’s head, pulled two worms out of the box and gave one to Mari. Then, like duelling gentlemen, they both backed away a few metres, and called out to Gweeb.

  ‘Come to Mari, Gweeb!’

  ‘Here, Gweeb!’

  The dragon glanced from one to the other, looking completely befuddled by what was going on. The more they called, the more confused he seemed, twisting his head from side to side. Finally he sprang into the air, circled briefly above their heads, and then swooped down to take the worm Dylan was holding.

  ‘There it is,’ he said.

  He took Gweeb over to the terrarium, lowered him in and picked it up. Mari watched as he retreated down the steps, and felt an unexpected sadness wash over her.

  ‘Gweeb doesn’t need anyone or anything,’ she shouted after him. ‘And neither do I!’

  Back at Dimland Cross Farm, Mari pulled the battered old laptop out of its cupboard.

  ‘I’ve got some homework to do, Mum!’ she yelled as she ran up the stairs. ‘I’ll be in my room!’

  While the computer spluttered into life, she pulled her binder of notes out of her bag and threw it on the desk. She flexed her fingers before opening a new document and typing in a title:

  Pterodraco jonathani – Discovery of a Flying Dragon.

  Mari’s fingers flew across the keys, putting down everything she had learned about Gweeb in the few days she had been observing him. It wasn’t until there was a knock at her bedroom door and she glanced at the clock that Mari realized she’d been writing non-stop for hours, entirely consumed by her article.

  ‘I made you a sandwich, love’ said Rhian, carrying a plate into the room. ‘For your tea.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Mari, turning back to the screen.

  ‘What homework is it?’ asked Rhian.

  Mari stopped typing, unsure what to say. ‘It’s about what I want to do when I grow up.’

  ‘Oh,’ said her mum. ‘Is it about farming?’ she said, with a smile that said she wasn’t serious.

  But for Mari it didn’t feel like a joke. ‘Sorry, Mum,’ she said. ‘It really isn’t.’

  Rhian nodded, her smile fading, and backed out of the room without saying another word.

  Mari’s head dropped. She’d said the wrong thing, again. She pushed back her chair and went to her bedroom door. She should do something to make it right. But her mum was already halfway down the stairs and her phone was ringing.

  ‘Hi, Gareth,’ said Rhian as she picked up.

  Mari shrank back into her room. Now was not the time. Not to mention the fact that she had an article to finish. She sat back down at her desk. With the text complete, she only had to add the photos. She plugged the memory stick into the laptop and found the picture of herself laughing at Gweeb. She paused for a moment, glancing over at the circle of light cast by her desk lamp, wishing that the mischievous dragon was still basking underneath it. Then she set about cropping herself out of the picture. Finally she pasted the image into the article, and decided to have one last look through the photos to see if there was anything else she could use.

  She leafed through the prints, shaking her head again at the terrible quality. But as she got to the end, one seemed oddly thicker than the rest. She bent a corner and realized it was two photos stuck together. She peeled them apart to reveal a hidden picture beneath. It must have been on the camera when Dylan picked it up.

  It was a shot of Dylan as a baby, with Gareth, and a smiling black woman who must have been Dylan’s mother. A happy family. A family that clearly no longer looked like that.

  Mari wished she could take back what she’d said to Dylan earlier. She’d never found the right way to ask him why his mum wasn’t around. She stared out of the window at the darkening sky and thought about her dad. And how her family didn’t look like it used to either.

  Then she typed in an email address and attached the article.

  ‘I’ll make you proud, Dad,’ she whispered.

  And with that she pressed SEND.

  Black clouds were massing ominously in the sky as Mari walked from the bus stop to school the next morning. But she had purpose in her step. Great things were about to happen.

  Across the way she saw the familiar yellow estate car pull up, and Dylan jump out, shirt untucked, school bag flailing. He came running over to Mari without even closing the car door.

  ‘Dylan,’ she said, ‘I owe you an apology for yesterday. And I brought you this –’

  She reached into her coat pocket for the picture of Dylan’s mum, but before she could pull it out, Dylan interrupted. ‘Gweeb’s gone.’

  Mari stopped in her tracks. ‘What do you mean, “Gweeb’s gone”?’

  ‘I came down this morning and he wasn’t in the terrarium.’

  Panic started to rise in Mari’s throat. ‘What? How did he get out?’

  ‘He didn’t. Not by himself at least.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The spare key. Under the flowerpot. She must have seen where it was.’

  Mari clenched her fists tightly. Ffion.

  ‘We need
to find her,’ she said. ‘Right now.’

  ‘She won’t have brought Gweeb to school, will she?’

  Mari shot Dylan a look of pure disdain. ‘You mean, she won’t have brought something into school that will gain her maximum attention and instant popularity? No, I’m sure she’d never do anything like that.’

  ‘I-I’m sure there’s an explanation,’ stammered Dylan.

  Mari got right up close and jabbed her finger in his chest. ‘There’s a very simple explanation. She’s selfish, self-obsessed, and perfectly happy to put Gweeb’s safety at risk for her own gain.’

  Dylan glared back at Mari as raindrops starting pinging off their heads. ‘Sounds just like someone else I know,’ he muttered, though more than loud enough for her to hear.

  Mari’s eyes went wide as saucers, and she grabbed his jacket in both hands. ‘She’s. Not. Even. A. Proper. Vegan,’ she hissed.

  Before Dylan could reply, Mari was distracted by a commotion from the direction of the school, and looked over to see Ffion surrounded by a throng of friends. Mari pushed Dylan away and hared towards her, weaving through gaggles of students and dodging past a chain reaction of inflating umbrellas. She could see Ffion holding open a backpack for her best friend Isabella Reeves to look into. Isabella’s face was a picture of bewilderment, but before Mari and Dylan could reach them the bell sounded, and Ffion disappeared into the crowd of children funnelling into the school.

  Mari and Dylan followed her to their classroom, where they found her already seated right at the front with her backpack hanging off the back of her chair. Mr Pugh was impatiently tapping his desk with a white-board marker.

  ‘Nice to have you join us, Mari and Dylan,’ he said.

  Mari gave Ffion a dirty look as she took her seat right behind her. Ffion smiled her most angelic smile in return.

  ‘Where is it?’ hissed Mari.

  Ffion didn’t turn.

  ‘Give it back!’ Mari growled.

  ‘Miss Jones,’ said Mr Pugh. ‘Is there something you would like to tell the class?’

  ‘Ffion has something of mine, Mr Pugh,’ said Mari. ‘I was asking for it back.’