The Dragon with a Chocolate Heart

by Stephanie Burgis

  For Jamie Samphire.

  I love you even more than chocolate!

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Acknowledgements

  CHAPTER 1

  I can’t say I ever wondered what it felt like to be human. But then, my grandfather Grenat always said, ‘It’s safer not to talk to your food,’ – and as every dragon knows, humans are the most dangerous kind of meal there is.

  Of course, as a young dragon, all I ever saw of them were their jewels and their books. The jewels were delightful, but their books were just maddening. What a waste of ink! No matter how hard I squinted, I could never make it past the first few paragraphs of cramped, crabby text. The last time I tried, I got so frustrated I burned three of those books to cinders with angry puffs of my breath.

  ‘Don’t you have any higher feelings?’ my brother demanded, when he saw what I’d done. Jasper wanted to be a philosopher, so he always tried to stay calm, but his tail began to lash dangerously, sending gold coins showering through our cavern as he glared at the smoking pile before me. ‘Just think,’ he told me. ‘Every one of those books was written by a creature whose brain was half the size of one of your forefeet. And yet, apparently, even they have more patience than you!’

  ‘Oh, really?’ I loved goading high-minded Jasper into losing his temper … and now that I’d laid waste to my tiny paper enemies, I was ready for fun. So I braced myself, scales rippling with secret delight, and said, ‘Well, I think anyone who wants to spend his time reading ant scribbles must have an ant-sized brain himself.’

  ‘Arrrrgh!’

  He let out the most satisfying roar of rage and leaped forward, landing exactly where I’d been sitting only a moment ago. If I hadn’t been expecting it, I would have been slammed into a mountain of loose diamonds and emeralds, and my still-soft scales would have been bruised all over. But Jasper was the one who landed there instead, while I joyously pounced on his back and rubbed his snout in the pile of rocks.

  ‘Children!’ Our mother raised her head from her forefeet and let out a long-suffering snort that blew through the cave, sending more gold coins flying. ‘Some of us are trying to sleep after a long, hard hunt!’

  ‘I would have helped you hunt,’ I said, jumping off Jasper. ‘If you’d let me come –’

  ‘Your scales haven’t hardened enough to withstand even a wolf’s bite.’ Mother’s great head sank back down towards her glittering blue-and-gold feet. ‘Let alone a bullet or a mage’s spell,’ she added wearily. ‘In another thirty years, perhaps, when you’re nearly grown and ready to fly …’

  ‘I can’t wait another thirty years!’ I bellowed. My voice echoed around the cave, until Grandfather and both of my aunts were calling their own sleepy protests down the long tunnels of our home, but I ignored them. ‘I can’t live cooped up in this mountain forever, going nowhere, doing nothing –’

  ‘Jasper is using his quiet years to teach himself philosophy.’ Mother’s voice no longer sounded weary; it grew cold and hard, like a diamond, as her neck stretched higher and higher above me, her giant golden eyes narrowing into dangerous slits focused solely on me, her disobedient daughter. ‘Other dragons have found their own passions in literature, history or mathematics. Tell me, Aventurine: have you managed to find your passion yet?’

  I ground my teeth together and scratched my front right claws through the piled gold beneath my feet. ‘Lessons are boring. I want to explore and –’

  ‘And how, exactly, do you plan to communicate with the creatures you meet on your explorations?’ Mother asked sweetly. ‘Or have you been progressing further with your language studies than I had imagined?’

  Jasper let out a muffled snicker behind me. I swung around and shot a ball of smoke at him. He let it explode harmlessly in his face, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

  ‘I can speak six languages already,’ I muttered as I turned back to Mother.

  Still, I couldn’t quite lift my head to meet her gaze.

  ‘By the time she was your age,’ Mother said, ‘your sister could speak and write twenty.’

  ‘Hmmph.’

  I didn’t dare snort smoke at Mother. But I would have snorted it at Citrine if she had been stuck here with us, instead of living far away in her perfectly extraordinary, one-of-a-kind, dragon-sized palace. Citrine wrote epic poetry that filled other dragons with awe and was worshipped like a queen by every creature who came near her.

  No one could measure up to my older sister. There was no point even trying.

  I could feel Mother’s gaze on me grow even sharper, as if she’d read my thoughts. ‘Language,’ she said, quoting one of Jasper’s favourite philosophers, ‘is a dragon’s greatest power, reaching far beyond the realm of tooth and claw.’

  ‘I know,’ I muttered.

  ‘Do you really, Aventurine?’ Her long neck curved as her massive head swung down to look me in the eyes. ‘Because courage is one thing, but recklessness is quite another. You may think yourself a ferocious beast, but outside this mountain you wouldn’t survive a day. So you had better start being grateful that you have older and wiser relatives to look after you.’

  Mother was sleeping deeply only two minutes later, her heavy breaths whooshing as calmly and evenly through the cavern as if we’d never even had an argument.

  ‘Not a day?’ Jasper whispered, once she was safely asleep. He shook off the last of the gemstones clinging to his back, and grinned at me, showing all of his teeth. ‘Not an hour, more likely. Not even half an hour, knowing you.’

  I glared at him, mantling my wings. ‘I could look after myself perfectly well. I’m bigger and fiercer than anything else in these mountains.’

  ‘But are you smarter?’ He snorted. ‘I’d wager all the gold in this cavern that even wolves are better at philosophical debates than you. And they probably don’t set things on fire every time they lose!’

  ‘Ohhh!’ I whirled around, lashing my tail. But there was no escape. The cavern walls were too close, and feeling closer with every second. They were pushing in around me until I could barely breathe.

  And I was supposed to spend another thirty years trapped inside this mountain, listening to my relatives tell me off for the fact that it was boring?

  Never.

  That was when I realised exactly what I had to do.

  But I wasn’t stupid, no matter what anyone thought. So I waited until Jasper finally gave up teasing me and curled up with one of his new human books – one that I hadn’t burned. It was a philosophical tract, so I knew I would be safe.

  ‘I’m going on a walk through the tunnels,’ I told him, when he had flicked the pages five times with his claw.

  ‘Mm-hmm,’ Jasper murmured, without looking up. ‘Aventurine, listen to this: this fellow thinks it’s morally wrong to eat meat. And fish, too! He won’t hurt any breathing creatures, so he only eats plants. Isn’t that fascinating?’

  ‘Fascinating? He’s going to starve!’ I flicked my ears in horror. ‘I told you humans had pebbles for brains!’

  But my brother didn’t even hear me. Sm
oke trickled in a long, happy stream through his nostrils as he held the tiny book close to his eyes, rumbling with satisfaction.

  I stepped right over his tail, one foot after another, on my way to freedom.

  Rattling snores echoed down the long tunnels from the caverns where Grandfather Grenat, Aunt Tourmaline and Aunt Émeraude slept. Luckily, at this time of day, when the sun was at its highest, no one was likely to wake at a few scrabbling sounds from the corners of the mountain. Dropping to my belly, I wriggled my way up the side tunnel I’d discovered two years earlier, the one that was too small for any of the grown-ups to use. At the very top, filled and hidden by a boulder the size of my head, was a secret entrance to the mountain. It was my favourite spot in the world.

  I’d shown Jasper of course, ages ago, but he almost never visited it – only when I dragged him there. He was always happiest curled up in our cavern with a book, or scratching out long, wordy treatises with one foreclaw dipped in ink.

  I was the one who loved pushing the boulder free and poking the tip of my snout out of the hole, to take deep, tingling breaths of the fresh, outside air and watch the clouds float through the sky overhead. I’d never dared to go any further, but I lay there for hours sometimes, just dreaming of the day when I would finally be allowed to stretch my wings and fly across the endless sky.

  Today, for the first time ever, I wasn’t going to stop at dreaming.

  I was going to show Jasper – and Mother – just how capable I was of taking care of myself. Then the grown-ups would have no excuse to keep me hidden away any longer.

  With exhilaration flooding through me, I folded my wings tightly against my sides and lunged for the outside world and freedom.

  It was harder than I’d expected to squeeze out of the hole. My shoulders stuck in the opening until I nearly roared with effort. I had to bite my mouth shut and swallow down choking smoke to keep myself silent. Finally, finally, I forced myself free with an explosive pop! It sent me tumbling on to the ground outside … and whimpering with pain. My folded wings had scraped so hard against the rough, craggy edges of the rocks that there were ragged tears, now, in my silver and crimson scales.

  What had Mother said? ‘Your scales haven’t hardened enough to withstand even a wolf’s bite …’

  I gnashed my teeth and pushed myself up on to all four feet, babying my wings by holding them half-folded at my side. Every breeze that blew across them made me wince, but I growled away the pain.

  So, I wouldn’t be making my first attempt at flight today. Never mind. I didn’t need to fly to catch my prey.

  For the first time in my life, the sky arched blue and free all around me, and I was free, too. The jagged peak of the mountain rose behind me. Below me lay a forested valley. And in between, buried somewhere in the rumpled foothills and narrow, rocky paths where animals and humans made their tiny ways …

  I set off down the mountainside, following the scent of food.

  CHAPTER 2

  Hunting wasn’t nearly as easy as I’d expected.

  The paths down the mountainside were made of scrabbly, rough earth that sent pebbles and balls of dirt skittering before me with every step. No matter how slowly and carefully I placed my feet, I couldn’t stop those vicious little stones from flying ahead like spies racing to warn everyone that I was coming. By the time I’d been out for two full hours, I was ready to set the whole mountainside on fire … and my stomach was growling louder than I was.

  Again and again I heard birds calling, just begging to be eaten. Once I even smelt delicious warm-blooded animals slinking down the path barely fifty feet away. So close! But when I broke into a run to try to catch them off guard, the stream of pebbles turned into a flood beneath my feet, sending me slipping and sliding out of control into a cluster of scratchy pine trees … and by the time I finally reached the spot where my prey had been gathering, they were long gone.

  It was so unfair I couldn’t bear it. I threw back my neck and shook with frustration. But I couldn’t even let out a roar, in case my family heard me.

  They would all be awake by now, inside the mountain. Of course they wouldn’t think to look for me straight away. I’d often gone exploring in the tunnels before. But if I didn’t come back soon, they’d start to wonder … and if they found me before I’d managed to catch a single piece of food, I’d never be allowed out of our cavern again.

  I couldn’t go back empty-clawed, no matter what it took!

  And that was when I heard a small male voice singing below me.

  It had to be a human.

  My nostrils flared. All my senses flamed into life as I picked out the scent of a warm, delicious mammal. Better yet, it was mixed with the smell of burning pine.

  He’d lit a fire. He was sitting in one place.

  And he was singing.

  He would never hear me coming!

  My muscles tensed in readiness, my haunches lowering into a preparatory crouch. But I didn’t leap forward. Even I wasn’t that reckless.

  I might not love human books like Jasper did, but I’d still heard every one of Grandfather’s stories.

  What if this human had a musket? Or a sword?

  Humans were a dragon’s most dangerous prey. Even Mother didn’t often hunt them by herself. Grandfather had taught us all to stay away from them whenever we were alone, to choose the safer, smarter meals … and Grandfather had scales so strong they could deflect any blade or bullet.

  I looked down at the tears in my aching wings and let out a low, unhappy rumble. Common sense felt like a boulder in my belly.

  But then …

  Oh. My scales tingled as I suddenly imagined it: the look in Jasper’s eyes as I carried a human into our cavern. Me. Myself. On my own!

  Even Mother would have to admit I was ready to take care of myself in the outside world. There wasn’t any better way to prove myself. I had to do it!

  I sucked in a deep breath and lowered myself to the ground. Dirt and rocks rubbed against my belly as I crept forward. The human’s voice never halted in his song, and as I grew closer and closer I started to make out the words, in a language that I recognised.

  ‘… And the winding road, oh the winding road, it never, ever stops …’

  Ha! There were no roads in the world that didn’t stop somewhere.

  I’d told Jasper humans had pebbles for brains!

  Finally, my prey came into sight. He’d found a sheltered hollow in the mountainside, surrounded on three sides by boulders and scrubby pine trees. In the centre he’d built a fire, and he was crouched over it now, with his back to me. As I peered through the trees I held my breath, clamping my mouth shut so that the hot smoke of my excitement couldn’t escape and warn him.

  He wasn’t holding a sword or a musket. Thank goodness. And he wasn’t one of those rare, dangerous humans who wielded magic – the worst kind of human trickery – because those ones wore fancy black coverings that made them look as if they had no legs. Grandfather had drawn a picture of one of them for me and Jasper, and he’d made us promise never to go anywhere near them until our protective scales were at least a hundred years hardened. This human, though, was dressed in perfectly safe layers of ragged purple and pink cloth that showed his skinny limbs quite clearly.

  Still, if this was going to work, I had to be fast. Too fast for him to yank out a sword or a bow and arrow from that big bag that sat beside him … or an axe, or …

  I’m bigger than him and fiercer than him, I told myself sternly. I’m the scariest creature on this mountain.

  Then he started to turn in my direction.

  Now! I opened my mouth in a silent roar and leaped.

  ‘Aaargh!’ The human screamed and dropped whatever he’d been holding into the pot. He lurched backwards, tripped on a rock and fell on to his backside as I bounded triumphantly towards him.

  Then I screamed, too, as my injured wings scraped against the half circle of pine trees on the way. ‘Aaargh!’

  I fell short, lu
nging away from the pain, and landed hard just next to the fire, clutching my wings to my side. ‘Ow, ow, ow!’

  Oops. As the human’s eyes widened, I realised I’d said that out loud.

  ‘Raaar!’ I drew myself up and bared all fifty teeth. That’s better. The human blinked hard, sweat popping up across his face. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

  Towering over him, I prepared to lunge.

  And that was when I smelt it.

  Luscious, sweet, exotic flavour. Rich and blooming and steaming just beneath my nose.

  I snaked my long neck towards the fire with lethal speed. ‘What is that?’

  ‘Wh-wh-what?’ The human pushed himself another foot backwards, staring at me.

  I ignored his retreat. Time enough to catch him later. All I cared about right now was the pot he had set over the fire, the pot whose steam was reaching out and tickling my senses with something so amazing my mouth was already watering. I had to have it!

  The pot was full of boring boiling water, but it swirled with brown tendrils as more and more of something dark and chunky dissolved into it.

  ‘What did you put in this pot?’ I demanded.

  ‘That?’ He stopped moving. ‘That’s chocolate.’

  ‘Chocolate?’ I’d never heard of chocolate before. Jasper had never mentioned it, and he’d read every work of human philosophy that he could get his claws on. How could his philosophers get so excited about eating plants when something this delicious was available?

  I lowered my snout as close to the pot as I dared without knocking it over. Then I took a long, deep breath through my nose.

  Oh, heaven.

  A low growl of yearning rumbled through me, filling the clearing. ‘This is chocolate?’

  Until now all I’d ever wanted was meat, whether it was scorched or raw or lightly toasted. I’d assumed that there couldn’t be anything better. But now …

  Was this how Jasper felt about his philosophy?

  I had to know how chocolate tasted. I couldn’t go another moment without that knowledge! I angled my neck just right, leaned forward, and …

  ‘Wait!’ The human jumped up.