The Boy Who Flew with Dragons

by Andy Shepherd

  All day I watched the clock above Miss Logan’s desk. I couldn’t wait to get home and check on Flicker. Lately he’d been spending more time perched on the windowsill, staring up at the sky. I was feeling less and less like leaving him on his own while I was out. But when Mum met me after school, I found myself being dragged to the shops. She was on a mission. And all because of the Juicer.

  She’d decided that as winter loomed everyone in the family needed more than just five-a-day of fruit and veg. Apparently we needed a full vitamin and mineral body armour to combat the army of bugs that always struck at this time of year. And this meant that as well as Grandad’s ample fruit-and-veg boxes – stuffed with spinach, broccoli, apples and pears – she intended to stock up on anything he wasn’t growing. And with the Juicer we were going to get all the green super-shakes we could want. Which in my case was none.

  Standing at the back of Herb’s Fruit and Veg Shop, I listened to her read out her long list of must-haves. This was going to take a while. I’d just started building a Brussels-sprout mountain when I saw Liam come into the shop. I wriggled down behind some crates of bananas.

  Herb’s assistant Mandy greeted Liam and then bent to listen as he started whispering something. She straightened up and shook her head, looking confused. He started waving his hands about like he was drawing something in the air. She shook her head again and shrugged. Whatever he’d asked her about, the answer was obviously no.

  He scowled and stomped out of the shop, muttering under his breath.

  I resisted the urge to run straight over and quiz Mandy. I’d watched enough spy shows to know that if you want someone to give up some vital piece of information, you have to act all nonchalant, like you don’t really care.

  I sauntered over. And slipped on one of the bananas. It was hard to act nonchalant when you’d just landed flat on your face.

  ‘Er … hello,’ I said, wiping smooshed banana off my forehead and rubbing at the rapidly appearing lump.

  ‘Can I help you?’ she asked.

  ‘I just … you know … saw my old mate Liam. He looked a bit … you know … put out, you know … fed up … you know?’

  She looked out the door and then back at me, one eyebrow wiggling up towards her curly mop of red hair.

  ‘Oh, him,’ she said. ‘Bit of a grump, your mate, isn’t he?’

  I smiled and nodded sympathetically.

  ‘Got all stroppy just because we didn’t have any of these weird fruit he was looking for. I told him I haven’t even heard of them, let alone seen one.’

  ‘Weird fruit?’ I asked.

  But – let’s face it – I already knew what was coming.

  ‘Yeah, he wanted some dragon-fruit thing. The way he described it, I told him someone must be pulling his leg. I’ve never seen anything looking like that.’

  And she headed off towards a lady who was loudly sniffing lemons. While I stood there looking a bit of a lemon myself, with my mouth hanging open. All I could picture was Liam with arms full of dragon fruits.

  ‘You don’t think he’s trying to grow himself another super-sized dragon, do you?’ asked Kai when I met up with the others later.

  ‘Well, he won’t have much luck, will he? Not with a fruit he’s picked up in a shop. He must know there won’t be a dragon growing in one of those,’ answered Kat.

  ‘Even he can’t be that clueless,’ I said. ‘No, he’d need to get at our tree for that, and there’s no way he can get anywhere close again. Not after I convinced Grandad to put up some wire along the hedge to stop him sneaking back in.’

  ‘Maybe he thinks if he plants some seeds his dragon will make them grow super-fast and that then he’ll have his very own dragon tree,’ suggested Kai.

  ‘That’s all we need,’ said Ted.

  Kat snorted. ‘Well, it won’t matter if he does. He won’t grow dragons, will he? We know that. I mean Elvi didn’t have any luck. Ours is the only active dragon-fruit tree there is.’

  I nodded.

  ‘I think we need to start keeping an even closer eye on him though. Till we know for sure what he’s up to.’

  ‘That’s easier said than done when you’ve already got both eyes keeping watch on these two,’ she said, pointing up to Crystal and Dodger who were locked in a friendly but explosive battle of ice blast and fire.

  Back at home I pulled out one of the bundles of papers I’d found alongside Elvi’s diary. I undid the string and laid out the sheets across my bed. There had to be more she could tell us about the Hidden City and the dragons. But it made my eyes hurt trying to decipher it all.

  Most of it was detailed travel arrangements, lists of equipment and sketches and descriptions of flowers and insects that they came across – many that had never been recorded before. Elvi was interested and excited about everything they saw. But every so often she would pause in this daily detail and these were the parts I pored over – the stories they shared around the fire in the evening.

  Arturo has kept everyone enthralled as usual. Telling the tales his grandfather told him, of the dragons that were born in this forest. And how the people shared a special bond with them. Their fire helped the land stay rich and fertile. But the dragons never stayed for longer than a few months. The climate was too hot. Dragon flame and fiery equatorial heat were an explosive mix. As they got bigger the dragons grew restless and began to leave.

  But occasionally dragons would bond with people and would stay longer. Then it was no longer safe for the people or the dragons. Fires burned out of control and the dragon who had stayed grew sick.

  Today we found carvings on the stone walls of the city. Showing people watching the dragons soaring to the stars.

  Arturo told me how whenever he heard this part of the story he had always wondered where the dragons flew to. Until he met me. For this is where our two histories collide. Ever since I told him about the stories my own mother and grandparents told me, of long-ago dragons flying over the grass-roofed homes of our village and settling in the volcanoes of the far north, we have known we hold two parts of the same story.

  I collected up all the loose papers, put them back in the tin box with the photos and curled up in bed. I thought of the dragons that had stayed too long and got sick. Would that happen to Flicker? Elvi had said it was the heat of the rainforest that was the problem. And it made sense. The dragon-fruit tree needed heat to grow and thrive, but as they grew the dragons needed a colder place to live.

  Looking out the window at the drizzle, it was hard to believe our weather would cause Flicker a problem. But what if it did?

  I watched him on the windowsill, his tail flicking back and forth as he blew a misty breath across the glass. I reached out my hand and he flew back to me, his spray of sparks twinkling across my room. When he curled up next to me I allowed his warm breath to blow my worries away.

  Later though, when I met up with the others and I read them the passages, everyone went super-quiet. Since finding Elvi’s diary our plans to let the dragons go had been lost in the excitement of learning more about them.

  But Kat took this new information as further proof that it was the right thing to do.

  ‘It’s just too risky keeping them here,’ she said.

  ‘We need a proper plan then,’ Kai replied.

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed Ted. ‘It’s not like we can just open the window and they’ll fly off any more.’

  ‘That’s because Sunny knows you’ve got a room full of chocolate and crisps,’ Kai laughed. ‘He’s hardly likely to give all that up in a hurry.’

  Ted looked a bit sheepish but didn’t disagree.

  ‘Tomas, we need to get all of them to your grandad’s garden when the next crop of dragons hatches,’ said Kat. ‘They’ll be able to follow the others then.’

  ‘Are there any new fruits?’ Kai asked.

  I nodded, the familiar squirmy feeling in my tummy returning at the thought that our time with the dragons might be over.

  ‘There’s been another cr
op of fruits ripening over the past week,’ I said.

  ‘Good,’ said Kat. ‘With any luck it’ll only be a few days before we have some new dragons in the garden.’

  ‘And it’s Bonfire Night on Saturday,’ Kai added. ‘It’s perfect timing. With all the fireworks going off no one’s going to notice our lot, even with their crackling sparks and fiery belches.’

  He was right, it was the perfect opportunity. But that didn’t make the thought of it any easier.

  However many times you see a dragon hatch out of a dragon fruit, it never gets old. I mean, how could it? The red fruit, the hint of a glow, watching and waiting for the spiky leaves to start bulging. Knowing it could happen at any moment, but always jumping in surprise when the POP finally happens and the tiny dragon shoots out. Then peering down at them as they stretch their wings and shake their heads and let out their first spark or puff of smoke or frosty breath. Each one different, from long and slender to tiny and plump, from pale grey to the brightest orange and with wings every colour of the rainbow. All of them special. There’s never going to be anything other than magic in the air when a dragon hatches.

  But on Saturday as we met in Grandad’s garden the excitement was overshadowed by the knowledge of what we were about to do.

  As we stood around the dragon-fruit tree watching the newly hatched dragons, we all looked as miserable as each other.

  I lifted my hand and a tiny midnight-blue dragon fluttered onto my fingers. It tilted its head from side to side and then hiccupped out a smoky breath.

  ‘It’s got twinkly horns like Tinkle,’ Kat said sadly.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Kai. ‘Where is Tinkle?’

  Everyone had been too busy with their dragons to notice Tinkle was missing, but now Ted, Kat and Kai were all looking at me, their brows wrinkling.

  ‘Lolli isn’t feeling well,’ I said quickly. ‘I couldn’t take Tinkle away from her when she was all tucked up in bed feeling miserable. There’ll still be dragons hatching tomorrow. I’ll bring Tinkle then.’

  Kat frowned but there wasn’t much she could do. I think she knew that if we didn’t go ahead right now, everyone might just change their minds.

  ‘So who’s going first?’ Ted asked as he cradled a glowing Sunny in his arms.

  ‘I think they should all go together,’ said Kai.

  A pair of green-winged dragons that had just hatched zipped back and forth above our heads.

  ‘None of them seem very interested in leaving, if you ask me,’ said Ted.

  We already knew that sometimes the dragons hung around – we’d seen enough evidence of the mess they made to know that. But we didn’t understand why sometimes they flew off straight away and other times they stayed longer. I’d always thought it was to stock up on some food – and by that I mean demolishing Grim’s vegetable patch. But we’d seen enough dragons hatch and take off by now to know that this wasn’t always the case.

  Typically, on this night when we really needed them to head up into the sky and lead our dragons away, none of them were budging. There were now seven or eight little dragons zooming about from Grim’s garden to Grandad’s. Grim’s winter lettuces were taking a particular battering and I winced at the thought of him finding the wreckage the next day.

  ‘Let’s try encouraging them,’ said Kat. ‘Let your dragons go on the count of three, and we’ll herd them all upwards.’

  It turned out to be more like on the count of thirty, because every time Kat got to ‘three’ someone held onto their dragon, unable to let it go at the last minute.

  ‘Come on, you lot, we need to do this,’ Kat said. ‘I’m going to count one more time. No messing about.’

  And knowing Kat meant business, this time we finally did it. We let our dragons go.

  It wasn’t quite the farewell we’d imagined. In fact, Crystal, Sunny, Dodger and Flicker didn’t go further than the apple tree. They perched there looking at us and at the newly hatched dragons zipping round the garden. A lame bit of hand-flapping did nothing to help.

  I looked up into the cloudy sky, wondering what else we could do. Suddenly a firework exploded somewhere in the distance. A glittering sparkle of green and red. The next second, I heard the whistling of one of those ones that shoots way up high. It hung in the air like a burning star before the bang came.

  It had obviously got the dragons’ attention. An orange dragon with purple and green wings sped upwards towards the light. It let out a spray of sparks that just for an instant formed a halo around the bright firework. I watched the dragon soaring higher and higher. Perhaps it was leaving at last.

  But then the glittering of the firework fizzled out and the dragon stopped in its tracks. It hovered in mid-air, its head flicking from side to side as if it was searching for the bright light. As the cloudy sky grew dim again the dragon headed down to the garden and settled back on the lettuces.

  Another bright light exploded, this time in my head. I glanced across at Flicker, remembering him perched on my windowsill. I could still see the fiery glow he had traced around the North Star.

  ‘I think I know why they’re not leaving!’ I called to the others. ‘They need to follow the North Star. And it’s too cloudy tonight to see it. That must be why sometimes they hang around.’

  ‘What? So we have to wait for a clear night?’ asked Ted.

  ‘Not if Flicker can help,’ I replied. I held out my arm and waited for the ruby shimmering shape of my little dragon to come to me. He perched there, his head tilted to one side while I ran my fingers along his spines.

  ‘Any chance of a little breeze to blow those clouds away?’ I said. And then I bent closer and whispered something else, aware that Kat was watching me. Flicker’s scales rippled scarlet and he launched upwards. Straight away we felt the air around us change. Leaves rustled, the hedgerow shook and the trees began to creak and groan. As Flicker twirled and spun above us, the wind whirled faster and faster. Soon we had to shout above the gale.

  ‘It’s working,’ Kat cried. And we looked up to see a sliver of moon appear through the clouds. And then there was the North Star. A brilliant point of light, like a beacon.

  As soon as the sky was clear, a few dragons started flying up higher than they had been. We raced around the garden herding the stragglers. And then we called our dragons.

  Sunny, Crystal and Dodger circled our heads for a few moments. Then Crystal twirled and dived down towards Kat, decorating the air with delicate icy patterns. They hung in front of us like intricate snowflakes before falling to the ground. Then she blew out a frosty breath that left Kat covered in glittering sparkles. Kat lifted a shining hand and I heard her whisper, ‘It’s OK, it’s time to go home.’ Sending one last icy spray over Kat, the purple dragon turned to look upwards and rose up into the sky.

  Sunny was glowing like a burning torch. He dived down and plucked the half-eaten chocolate from Ted’s hands, then belched a fiery breath that set light to the leaves above Ted’s head. Ted laughed and danced out of the way as Sunny soared skywards.

  ‘Imagine the flames that’ll come out of him when he’s fully grown,’ he said. ‘Probably best to see that from a distance though!’

  ‘Where’s Dodger?’ cried Kai. ‘Has he gone already?’

  We scanned the sky. Kai’s shoulders sagged.

  ‘I thought he might be a bit sorry to go,’ he said.

  Kat put her arm around him and I saw that the tears shining on her face had frozen like tiny diamonds from Crystal’s icy breath.

  And then Kai shrieked and jumped away from her. A blast of flame shot through his legs, singeing his trousers. Dodger flared fluorescent green, dived down, nipped Kai on the nose and sped away. Kai laughed and chased after him, waving madly at the disappearing shape.

  Now there was just Flicker, still spinning in the air above us. Gradually, he slowed and I felt my friends moving closer. They knew how hard this moment was going to be for me. But instead of rising up into the sky, Flicker fluttered back down towards
us.

  Everyone looked at me.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said Ted. ‘Why isn’t Flicker going too?’

  I turned and saw Kat’s eyes narrowing, beaming out their laser rays, waiting for me to answer.

  My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, which was drier than the hottest desert right now. I tried my best to form words, but the voice that came out sounded like a squeak.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I croaked. ‘Maybe it’s Tinkle not being here.’

  ‘You knew that was going to happen,’ Kat said crossly. ‘You knew he wouldn’t go without her.’

  I spluttered my denial, shaking my head madly.

  Kat was getting crosser by the second, and Ted and Kai were glaring at me, their jaws clamped shut.

  ‘Look, it’s OK. I’ll send them off tomorrow,’ I said quickly. ‘There’ll still be dragons hatching. I’ll bring them both then.’

  No one looked very impressed, but in the end, much to my surprise, they didn’t give me a hard time. I think they were all just too upset about saying goodbye to their own dragons.

  On the walk home no one said anything. All you could hear was our feet slapping the pavement, sounding out a sorrowful march. I could feel something lodged in my throat and with every step and heartfelt sigh from the others the lump grew bigger. And bigger. Until I swallowed it down and it sat in my chest where it carried on growing.

  And that something wasn’t a piece of my mum’s leaden roly-poly pudding, it was a big nasty lump of guilt. Because as you might have already guessed, Lolli wasn’t really poorly at all. She was bouncing around quite happily at home. I’d seen how Flicker looked after Tinkle – keeping a watchful diamond eye on her just like I watched out for Lolli, and I’d known he wouldn’t go anywhere without her.

  For the first time ever I had properly lied to the superhero squad. Because the truth was, I had never intended to let Flicker and Tinkle go.