by Josh Lacey
Someone must have left a box of fireworks in the kindling basket. Maybe I picked some fireworks up by mistake when I was gathering wood. They do look very much like ordinary sticks.
Another rocket shot across the room and through the window, smashing the one pane of glass that wasn’t already broken.
A pinwheel spun across the floor and down the stairs.
One of the fireworks must have set fire to a curtain or a blanket because suddenly the turret was in flames.
Emily screamed so loudly I thought my eardrums might burst. I was trying to stay calm, but I was beginning to panic, too. It was extremely hot and quite difficult to breathe, and our route downstairs was blocked by a thick wall of black smoke.
There was only one way out.
We had to go up.
Emily and I charged to the top of the turret, followed by the dragons. Fireworks were exploding in every direction. Down on the ground, I could see guests flooding out of the castle.
We screamed for help, but no one could hear us.
Luckily, Ziggy knew what to do. She bent her neck and flapped her wings.
All three of us hopped aboard.
When we took off, there was a huge cheer from all of Dad’s guests. They must have thought we were part of the display.
I had expected Ziggy to land beside Dad, but she flew into the woods and landed under a big tree.
Once she was on the ground, she refused to move. She and Arthur just curled up in the snow. I said it wasn’t a sensible place for a nap if you’ve got a cold, but they didn’t care.
Emily and I had to walk home. We were both shivering. Emily’s lips turned blue.
Just when I thought we might die of frostbite, I heard someone shouting our names. I shouted back. It was Dad. He came running through the trees and gathered us both up in his arms and said he’d thought we were dead. I’d never seen him cry before.
The fire had died down by the time we got back to the castle. Dad gave the firefighters a crate of champagne to say thank you. The labels had burned off the bottles, but they didn’t mind.
Emily and I are sharing a room at the Manawydan Arms. Dad is asleep next door. He’s probably going to kill me when he wakes up.
I wish I could say happy New Year, but it really isn’t.
Eddie
From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Monday, January 2
Subject: Unhappy New Year
Attachments: The ruins
Dear Uncle Morton,
I don’t know where you are or what’s happened to you, but if you do ever get here, we are still staying at the Manawydan Arms. It’s the only pub in the village, and Dad says you can’t miss it.
The three of us went back to the castle today. There’s not much left, just a few blackened walls and some smoldering timbers.
In case you’re wondering why there are only three of us, Bronwen has gone to her mother’s in Aberystwyth. She and Dad had a big fight last night.
Bronwen said sorry to me and Emily for her language, but I said she shouldn’t worry, we’d heard it all before when Mom and Dad were getting divorced, and worse, too.
Bronwen said Dad obviously hadn’t learned from his mistakes, and he said she was right about that. That was when she left.
There’s still no sign of the dragons. Dad says they’re old enough to look after themselves, but Arthur certainly isn’t. And I’m not sure if Ziggy is, either, especially when she’s got a cold.
Also, Dad says I owe him a new castle.
I thought he was joking, but he’s not.
Apparently, he borrowed all the money to buy the castle, and now he’ll never be able to pay it back.
He’s ruined, and it’s my fault.
Today is only the second of January, but this is already turning out to be the worst year of my life.
Eddie
From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Tuesday, January 3
Subject: Lost
Dear Uncle Morton,
I’m a terrible dragonsitter. There’s still no sign of Ziggy or Arthur, and I have no idea where they might be.
There’s no sign of Bronwen, either, but Dad said not to worry about her, because there are a lot more fish in the sea.
Emily said he could get married to Mom again, but Dad said he’d been married to her once already and that was enough for any man.
Dad is going back to the castle today. Emily and I are going with him, and we’ll search the forest for your dragons.
Eddie
From: Morton Pickle
To: Edward Smith-Pickle
Date: Wednesday, January 4
Subject: Re: Lost
Attachments: Lower Bisket church
Dear Eddie,
I’m terribly sorry to hear about the castle. Please pass on my apologies to your father. I don’t have the funds to pay for a new castle, but I will help in any way that I can.
I’m sorry that I haven’t reached you yet, but there has been a crisis in the village. The weight of all the snow on the church roof caused it to collapse. Mr. McDougall and I, along with all other able-bodied men and women, were called upon to help.
You will be glad to hear we have repaired the worst of the damage. I’m going to the station now and shall be with you this afternoon.
Don’t worry about Ziggy and Arthur. I have read that the caves of North Wales were once full of dragons, so they have probably sniffed out some distant relatives. We shall search for them together when I arrive.
Morton
From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Wednesday, January 4
Subject: Trivia Night
Dear Uncle Morton,
We have reserved a room for you at the Manawydan Arms.
It’s Trivia Night tonight and there’s a cash prize, which would be really useful now that I’m saving up to buy a new castle.
If you get here in time, you could join our team. I bet you’re brilliant at trivia games.
We spent today at the castle again, but there’s still no sign of your dragons. I hope you’re right about them hiding in a cave. I’m just worried they won’t be warm enough.
Eddie
From: Morton Pickle
To: Edward Smith-Pickle
Date: Thursday, January 5
Subject: Re: Trivia Night
Delayed again. Leaving now.
Sorry to miss trivia.
M
From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Thursday, January 5
Subject: Our last night
Attachments: 2nd!
Dear Uncle Morton,
The Manawydan Arms is full. They won’t reserve a room for you because you didn’t use the one they kept for you yesterday, but you can sleep on the floor in ours.
Dad is driving us home first thing tomorrow morning, so you can keep the room if you want to stay here while you search for the dragons.
Don’t worry about missing Trivia Night. We came in second and won a prize!
When I told Dad I would add the cash to his savings for a new castle, he told me not to be ridiculous and bought a round of drinks for everyone in the pub.
I suppose that’s what Mom means about him being useless with money.
He got a piece of good news yesterday, so there was something to celebrate. The man from the insurance company thinks his policy should pay out in full because the fire was caused by misadventure and/or faulty equipment.
Emily told him that the fire was actually caused by a dragon trying to keep warm.
The insurance man said he’d never heard that one before.
Dad gave me a look, so I kept quiet, and we pretended that Emily has a vivid imagination.
See you later.
Eddie
From: Morton Pickle
To: Edward Smith-Pickle
Date: Friday, January 6
Subject: Re: Our last night
Attachments: Home sweet home
Dear Eddie,
I hope you’re safely home by now. I’m terribly sorry that I never reached Wales and didn’t get a chance to see your father’s castle. However, it all turns out to have been for the best.
I was finally ready to catch a train yesterday when I remembered that you had asked me to bring some medicine. I have a large stock in my bathroom cabinet, so I borrowed Mr. McDougall’s boat and whizzed across the channel to my island.
I moored the boat, hurried up the path to the house, and was just reaching for my keys when who should I see lounging on the lawn.…
There they were, my two dragons, enjoying this morning’s unexpected sunshine. They showed no shame for causing so much trouble. All they wanted was a snack and a belly rub, and I happily was able to provide both.
You’ll be glad to hear that their coughs and colds are entirely cured. I’m sorry they didn’t behave themselves, but thanks again for looking after them so well.
Perhaps this year you will finally come and visit us?
Love,
Morton, Ziggy, and Arthur
From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Saturday, January 7
Subject: Home
Attachments: Yoga
Dear Uncle Morton,
I’m very pleased the dragons are safe. I was getting quite worried they might never be found.
We’re home, too, and everything is fine.
Mom says THANK YOU for recommending the yoga retreat. (She asked me to put that in capital letters.) She says she’s never felt so relaxed in her entire life.
It’s true. She didn’t even mind about the burn marks on our pajamas.
She wants to go back ASAP, so maybe I could come and stay then?
Happy New Year!
And lots of love from your favorite nephew,
Eddie
P.S. Will you keep looking in Arthur’s poop? Mom says the spoons don’t matter, but it would be nice if we could turn on the TV.
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From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Saturday, February 18
Subject: Please read this!
Attachments: Your new front door
Dear Uncle Morton,
Where is the key to your house?
We arrived on your island this morning, but we couldn’t get in.
Mom thought you might have left it under a stone or buried in a flowerpot, so we searched everywhere.
Emily discovered a silver necklace and I found two coins, but there was no sign of the key.
Through the window I could see your dragons going crazy. I don’t know if they were happy to see us or just hungry, but Arthur was charging around and around the house, knocking over your furniture, and Ziggy wouldn’t stop breathing fire.
Luckily, Mr. McDougall was still here. He was sure you wouldn’t mind if he broke a window.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t open the front door from the inside, so we had to push the suitcases through the window and climb in after them.
Ziggy and Arthur are much happier now that we’ve given them our presents (a big box of malted milk balls for her and three packs of mini chocolate eggs for him).
They also ate our leftover sandwiches from the train and the book I was reading. Luckily, the book wasn’t very good.
Emily and I are going to search your house for the key. Mom says if we can’t find it, we’ll have to go home tomorrow and the dragons can fend for themselves.
I said I wouldn’t mind climbing in and out of the window for the whole week, but Mom told me not to be ridiculous.
Have you taken it by mistake? Didn’t you leave a spare anywhere?
Love from your favorite nephew,
Eddie
From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Saturday, February 18
Subject: Your phone
Attachments: Selfie
Dear Uncle Morton,
We haven’t found the key, but I have found your phone. Mom called you to leave another message and I heard it ringing behind the sofa.
I hope you don’t need it in Outer Mongolia. I put it on the mantelpiece with the necklace and the coins.
Mr. McDougall has gone back to the mainland in his boat. Emily says it’s creepy being the only people here, but I like it.
Thanks for your instructions and the map. Emily and Mom took hours unpacking their bags, so I’ve been exploring. I climbed Dead Man’s Cairn and walked all the way along the beach to Lookout Point.
Arthur sat on my shoulder like a parrot. At first I was worried he might burn my ear off, but he hasn’t been breathing any fire at all. Isn’t he old enough?
Eddie
From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Saturday, February 18
Subject: Cans
Attachments: Accidental number 2
Dear Uncle Morton,
We have now searched your house, your garden, and quite a lot of your island, but we still can’t find the key. Please write back ASAP and tell us where it is.
Mom is dead serious about leaving tomorrow. It’s not just because of the key. It’s the poop, too. Ziggy did one in the kitchen and another by the back door.
I know it’s not her fault. She can’t fit through the window, and she has to go somewhere. I just wish she could hold them in until we’ve found the key.
Also, Mom is asking where the can opener is.
We brought some food, but not enough because you told us your cupboard was full of provisions. Unfortunately, all the provisions are in cans.
I’m sure I could open them with a knife, but Mom won’t let me because we’d need a helicopter to get to the nearest hospital.
Eddie
From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Sunday, February 19
Subject: Bye
Attachments: The red flag
Dear Uncle Morton,
I’m very sorry, but we are leaving your island.
This morning, Mom found another piece of poop in the kitchen. She said that was the final straw.
I did suggest staying here on my own, but Mom said, “Not a chance, buster.”
She has already raised the red flag. I just looked through the telescope and saw Mr. McDougall preparing his boat on the mainland. I suppose he’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.
I have given all our spare food to the dragons. I have also put some cans on the floor in case they’re better at opening them than me.
I will ask Mr. McDougall to come here every day and feed them until you get back.
Eddie
From: Edward Smith-Pickle
To: Morton Pickle
Date: Sunday, February 19
Subject: Sheep
Attachments: The prime suspects
Dear Uncle Morton,
We’re still here.
We never left. Mr. McDougall wouldn’t let us.
He said the dragons can’t stay on your island unsupervised.
Mom asked why not, and Mr. McDougall explained that one of his sheep went missing in the middle of the night. This morning, he found bloodstains on the grass and a trail of wool leading down to the water.
I don’t know why he blames your dragons. Arthur can hardly fly and Ziggy can’t even leave the house, so there is no way either of them could have gotten from here to the mainland, let alone murdered a sheep. But Mr. McDougall says they are the prime suspects.
&nbs
p; Now he has gone home again, and we’re stuck here without a key or any food.
Eddie
From: Morton Pickle
To: Edward Smith-Pickle
Date: Monday, February 20
Subject: Re: Sheep
Attachments: The library; Airag and stew
Dear Eddie,
I am so sorry to hear about your troubles with the front door. I was sure that I had discussed the key with your mother when we talked last week. Has she forgotten our conversation?
This is what I said to her: If you walk down to the end of the garden, you will discover a stone statue of a yellow-headed vulture perched in the shrubbery. The key is hidden under its left talon.
Please be very careful when you lift it up. That vulture has great sentimental value. It was given to me by the sculptor himself, who lives in a small hut beside the Amazon, and I carried it all the way back from Brazil wrapped in an old shirt.
I have been in touch with Mr. McDougall, who is understandably upset about the loss of his sheep. I assured him that the dragons couldn’t be responsible. He didn’t appear to be entirely convinced, but I’m sure he’ll find the real culprit soon.
All is good here in Ulaanbaatar. I have discovered some fascinating and unexpected information at the National Library, so my visit has already been worthwhile.
The only problem is the weather. Walking the streets without a coat on would be certain death, and even the Reading Room is so cold that no one removes their hats or scarves.
Unfortunately, it’s impossible to turn the pages of an old book while wearing gloves, so my fingers are like icicles by the end of the day. Every evening, after leaving the library, I warm myself up at a local restaurant with a bowl of yak stew and a glass of the local brew—a white drink called Airag, made from fermented horse milk. It tastes better than it sounds.