The Boy Who Flew with Dragons

by Andy Shepherd

  ‘If I can get onto that ledge that runs round the wall, I think I can pull myself up and reach it,’ he said. ‘I just need you to give me a leg-up.’

  There was no ‘just’ about it. I could see that there was a gap between the balcony and the wall. If Liam slipped he’d fall straight down, all the way to the ground far below.

  ‘Down there you were asking me to trust you,’ he said. ‘Thanks, by the way, for not, you know, blabbing about my lack of friends.’

  I nodded. ‘I’m sorry. We didn’t exactly go out of our way to let you join in. That’s not what mates are meant to do. And we were mates once.’

  Liam shrugged. ‘That’s OK. I guess I didn’t take it very well.’

  ‘Nah, not very well,’ I laughed, remembering all the times he had been a total pain.

  ‘Well, now you can trust me too,’ Liam said. ‘I can climb stuff. I’m good at it. I can do this.’

  ‘All right,’ I said. ‘You’re on.’

  Ted appeared at the top of the staircase just as I linked my fingers, and Liam stood on my joined hands. I started heaving him upwards. He scrabbled to find fingerholds on the wall.

  ‘Steady on, Tomas,’ Ted cried. ‘I know he’s a pain, but I don’t think he deserves to plunge head first into a rabid Venus flytrap.’

  It must have looked like I was trying to wrestle Liam off the balcony. I gave a final heave as Liam lunged for the ledge.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said to Ted. ‘We’re on the same side now, remember?’

  We looked up at Liam who had both feet on the ledge and was now reaching up to the roof. There was a rusty creak and a groan as he managed to push the skylight open. He’d done it!

  Below I heard Kat and Kai cheer, and then Kat lowered her head to Tinkle and whispered something.

  The little dragon rose into the air and began to sing. All around, the dragons stopped their crazed dive-bombing and fire-sparking. Even Maxi stopped blasting out his super-sizing green jets. Just like on the day of Lolli’s party, I felt the whole atmosphere calming down as the music drifted and soothed.

  One by one they followed the song and Tinkle led them up towards the open skylight and the blackness beyond.

  Liam’s hand reached out to touch Maxi, his fingers skimming the lime green underside of the dragon’s wings as he flew by. Now only Flicker remained and he fluttered along by me as we rushed out of the glasshouse to watch the others leaving, little darting flecks of colour in the stormy night sky. The stormy – and cloudy – night sky.

  ‘Oh no!’ I cried. ‘There are no stars again.’

  ‘Can Flicker clear the clouds?’ Kat asked.

  He flew down and rested on my shoulder.

  ‘I hope so,’ I said. But I looked nervously up at the brooding sky. This storm had been brewing all day. It felt like a lot to ask of the little dragon.

  Flicker wrapped his tail around my neck and rested his head against my ear, blowing his warm breath right into the heart of me.

  Before I could speak I felt his claws release and he launched up into the air. He began to spin round and round, just like he had in Grandad’s garden. I smiled. He’d known what I needed him to do, without my even asking. But this storm was a giant and the air was heavy with its thunderous voice. Would it be too much for the little dragon? On and on he spun, getting faster and faster, brighter and brighter.

  He seemed to be pulling the storm in, drawing it towards him as he soared higher and higher. Up there he shone like a diamond in the sky. Finally the heavy clouds of the storm began to clear.

  The others cheered as dragons started rising up in spirals, heading towards the now visible North Star. But, as I kept my eyes locked on Flicker, I could only gasp.

  The little dragon had finally stopped spinning. He was tumbling. Down, down, down. Like a falling star.

  I sprinted towards the open lawn, arms outstretched. If I could just reach him, if I could just hold on to him, then everything was going to be OK. But as he landed in my hands I knew that wasn’t true.

  Because the diamond light had faded. Flicker’s eyes had closed.

  Ted, Kat, Kai and Liam, who’d chased across the lawn with me, now stopped as I held the little dragon to my chest.

  I felt Ted put a hand on my arm. And I thought I heard Kat’s voice. But I was somewhere far away. Flying on the back of my dragon. Through a rain of tears.

  ‘What have I done?’ I whispered.

  ‘This isn’t your fault,’ Kat said.

  ‘It is!’ I cried. ‘I should have let him go with the others in the first place.’

  ‘But he could have gone any time,’ she said softly. ‘He could have followed the others that first day in the garden. But he didn’t. He chose to stay with you.’

  ‘I know,’ I said desperately. ‘But that’s only because he knew I didn’t want him to go. Even when I told him he should, I still didn’t want him to, not really. He must have known that.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘Now it’s too late.’

  Tinkle fluttered down and perched on my arm. I should have known she wouldn’t leave without Flicker. She laid her head across his neck. But Flicker didn’t move. And this time his scales didn’t change colour to match her silvery blue. She nudged him with her snout as if trying to wake him.

  When he didn’t stir, she looked up and began to sing. A haunting, drifting song that rose into the air, taking my heart with it.

  Another dragon flew towards us. Liam pointed and cried, ‘Maxi!’

  The plump grey dragon puffed up, and his wings and spines shone a vivid green. His eyes were fixed on Flicker. By the time he reached us, he was pulsing as if he was radioactive. He flew close to Flicker, still lying in my hands, and opened his mouth. But instead of the usual steady green blast the breath that came from the dragon seemed to flicker through all the shades of green imaginable. Emerald, forest, olive, jade, lime, sea, neon and spring. The air around us shimmered with the light. Like a mini aurora borealis. All of us stood, wrapped in the song and the green glow of the dragon’s breath.

  And then it happened. I felt my hands grow warm. A tingling spread up my arms. And Flicker’s scaly belly nudged against my fingers as he took a breath.

  His head lifted and I found myself staring into two diamond eyes that seemed to see right into the heart of me. And for the second time since Flicker had arrived, I felt like a firework display was going off inside me. Only this time the display was so huge it was like it was made of shooting stars.

  ‘It’s time to go,’ I whispered. And this time I meant it.

  I lifted him up in my hands till we were nose to snout. His tail curled round and tickled my ear. And as I whispered my goodbyes his scales flickered gold, lighting up my face. I felt his claws tighten on my palms as he prepared to launch and braced myself for the weightless feeling as he left my hands and rose into the air with Tinkle and Maxi.

  I stood with Ted, Kat, Kai and Liam, and watched him fly higher and higher into the inky sky, a flicker of sparks lighting his path. I felt the cold of the night bite into me, as the fiery warmth of the little dragon disappeared forever.

  At last I know for sure that I did the right thing! You’re not going to believe what has just happened. You’re really not!

  So it’s been six months since I watched Flicker fly up into the sky, knowing I’d never see him again. Six months of missing him every single day. I can’t write this fast enough. But I need to slow down and make sure I don’t miss one bit of it. Because, believe me, you’re going to want to hear this. Boy, are you going to want to hear this!

  I’d just ambled back from tea with Nana and another stint in the garden with Grandad. Now he’d recovered from his hip operation and they’d sorted out the right type of pills to keep his heart happy, he was back to his usual twinkly self.

  I turned back to see him still standing across the park, waiting till I gave him the ‘I’m OK’ wave. Well, I say ‘wave’. It had started off with us holding one hand up, but ov
er time it’s developed into a pretty elaborate series of arm flagging, head flicks and leg kicks and even the odd twirl from Grandad. I laughed and gave a final bow before hurrying on home.

  When I got inside I was met by an avalanche of sound. Screeches, yowls, howls and a rather disturbing squealing blasted out from the living room. With my hands over my ears I peered in. Dad had set up his keyboards and was in full swing, playing and singing his latest tunes to Mum, who was jumping around the room grinning and twirling her arms like a helicopter about to take off. She wasn’t the only one enjoying the show, judging by the sounds the rest of the audience were making. And by audience I mean the cockatoo flapping overhead, the St Bernard stretched out on the sofa, the four cats – none of whom were Tomtom – and the little piglet. It was no wonder my parents hadn’t ever noticed there were two dragons in the house!

  I gave them a wave and headed up to my bedroom. I could hear Lolli chattering away, pausing every so often to make murmurs of agreement as she stopped to hear the opinion of one of her cuddly toys. After all the digging Grandad had got me to do, and stuffed full of Nana’s steamed jam sponge and custard, I fell onto my bed and was asleep before I’d even got undressed.

  When I opened my eyes it was dark and a sticky hand was smooshing my face.

  ‘Flickaflickaflickaflickaflicka,’ Lolli babbled, the words blurring as they fell over themselves to get out of her mouth. She started pulling on my sleeve, trying to drag me out of bed.

  I groaned and swung my legs out. ‘It’s OK, Lolli. Time to sleep. I’ll tuck you in,’ I yawned. But she stepped out of my reach.

  ‘MewannaFlicka,’ she insisted.

  At first I thought she was just upset again. However grown-up she’d been about letting Tinkle and Flicker go, every so often the reality of not having a dragon in her pocket hit home.

  ‘MewannaFlicka,’ she said again, and pulled even harder at my arm. Then she pointed at the curtains.

  As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked at her properly, I suddenly realised she wasn’t upset. She was just really super-excited.

  I looked from her eager face to the window and she nodded, her little head bobbing up and down as she jiggled on the spot. I stepped forward, pulled back the curtain and peered out into the garden. And my mouth did that cartoon jaw-dropping thing. Lolli giggled and clapped her hands.

  Because right there, filling up most of our small back garden, was a dragon. An enormous, glorious, shimmering dragon. It stretched its neck up and looked at me through the glass with twinkling diamond eyes.

  ‘Flicker!’ I shouted in delight. ‘You came back!’

  I flung open the window and leaned out to greet him, marvelling at how huge and mighty my once tiny friend had become. He was a beautiful deep ruby red and he glimmered as his scales rippled. His eyes shone brighter than any star. He beat his now enormous wings and rose up into the air, turning in circles as if to show off just how brilliant he had become.

  ‘Wow!’ I cried. ‘Look at you!’

  Coming back down to us, he brought his huge head closer and Lolli reached out to touch his scaly nostril. He flickered gold and let out a puff of smoke that curled around her like a blanket.

  Then he dipped his head lower, until his neck was touching the window ledge, right outside.

  ‘Are you kidding?’ I cried.

  Lolli giggled and squeezed my arm and then gave me a little push towards Flicker.

  I grinned at her and climbed up onto the windowsill. Carefully I swung one leg over Flicker’s neck and hung on with both arms. The air was cold but I didn’t feel it, not leaning against the warm glow of my dragon’s body.

  I’d dreamed about flying, and it might have felt pretty real at the time, but actually doing it is a whole other matter. I tell you, riding a dragon is just about as incredible as you could ever imagine it to be. And then times that like a gazillion trillion on top. Rising up into the air, I just couldn’t stop laughing. Up, up, up …

  And as we flew Flicker changed colour, from fiery red to azure blue, from crimson to blazing orange to deep purple, lime green, brilliant white and midnight black. All the colours of my dream. And I laughed again as I felt a rumble and a mighty jet of flame burst out of Flicker’s mouth.

  As we soared across the moonlit sky I saw something on the horizon. A dot. Not just one dot – five. Five dots that grew bigger and bigger as they flapped their way towards us. And the next second I saw the sky lit up by the fiery breath of Sunny, Crystal, Dodger and Maxi. And then I heard Tinkle’s song. It filled the air and it filled my head with images too: rivers of fire and ice, the flickering green of the Northern Lights and volcanoes erupting with colour – erupting with dragons!

  I remembered what Jim had said about his wife, Molly. She had told him to let their son go and he would come back one day. Well, we had let the dragons go and here they were again. Maybe not to stay, but to visit.

  Flying back over the rooftops, I saw Lolli, waving madly from the window. And in the streets beyond I spotted the houses where Ted, Kat, Kai and Liam would be. Asleep and dreaming of their dragons. But a dream – any dream – is just the beginning of an even greater story.

  And as Flicker changed colour like a fiery kaleidoscope, I knew this was no dream. This was the real deal.

  So, that’s how it happened, how we ended up growing dragons, living with dragons and flying with dragons. And if, like me, you dream of dragons, then that’s good. Because the world needs dragons. Sometimes you have to look for the magic, and I mean really look, under the brambles and in the nettly places at the very edges where most people never think to look. And you might have to dig and dig and dig until your arms ache from digging. Which is why you need to get yourself a superhero squad and someone to pop a caramel toffee or two your way – you know, the kind of people who are like the very best jam tarts – the ones that stick together.

  Who knows, maybe one day, you'll find a dragon-fruit tree growing too.

  And if you do, well, get ready for the ride of your life!

  Andy Shepherd is a children’s writer working on middle-grade fiction and picture books. She lives near Cambridge with her husband, two sons and their border collie. She spends her spare time trying to figure out how to move this beautiful city closer to the sea. The Boy Who Flew with Dragons is her third book. You can follow her on Twitter @andyjshepherd or Facebook https://www.facebook.com/andyjshepherd/

  Sara Ogilvie is an award-winning artist/illustrator. She was born in Edinburgh in 1971 and lives in Newcastle upon Tyne. Sara’s many picture books include The Detective Dog by Julia Donaldson, The Worst Princess by Anna Kemp, and Izzy Gizmo by Pip Jones. Her middle-grade fiction includes Phil Earle’s Demolition Dad (and others in the Storey Street series).

  www.saraogilvie.com

  www.nbillustration.co.uk/sara-ogilvie

  Acknowledgements

  I’ve been lucky to have three opportunities to get my thanks in. Just as well really, because it’s taken a long time to get published so the list of thank-yous has been pretty extensive!

  So, to kick off part three, a massive thank-you to all the teachers and librarians who have taken the dragons into their hearts and their classes, schools and libraries. I can’t thank you all enough for your enthusiasm and hard work getting the books into the hands of readers. My special thanks to Scott Evans (@thereaderteacher) for always giving the dragons such a brilliant shout-out.

  Great teachers really are like superheroes. And I was lucky to have one of the best. David Cadwallader – my ace English teacher in secondary school, the one responsible for planting the idea that I could write in the first place. Even through the lean years of hardly writing anything, that deep-rooted belief stayed with me. David and his wife Linda are the kinds of teachers who make all the difference. So thank you!

  Another huge thanks to the bonkersly brilliant Mellie Buse and Martin Franks, whose early encouragement gave me the confidence to go that extra mile and see if I could make this happen – a
nd thank you for keeping me, if not sane, then suitably entertained along the way!

  I’d like to thank Norberto Cuevas, Aura Cuevas and Arely Hernandez for helping me find out more about the magical dragon-fruit tree and sending me so many fantastic photos of it growing wild.

  Thank you to my lovely agent Jo Williamson and my fabulous editors Georgia Murray and Talya Baker, for all their hard work and help, and for looking after me along the way.

  A massive thank-you to Sara Ogilvie for all her gorgeous illustrations, and to her and Nick Stearn for such eye-catching covers. They are simply a joy.

  My love and thanks to Mum, Dad and Pete and all my wonderful family and friends – your endless support and cheering on means so much.

  Ian, Ben and Jonas, these books are in the world because of you. Always remember, wherever you are, there is magic.

  Thank you for choosing a Piccadilly Press book.

  If you would like to know more about our authors, our books or if you’d just like to know what we’re up to, you can find us online.

  www.piccadillypress.co.uk

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  We hope to see you soon!

  First published in Great Britain in 2019 by

  PICCADILLY PRESS

  80–81 Wimpole St, London W1G 9RE

  www.piccadillypress.co.uk

  Text copyright © Andy Shepherd, 2019

  Illustrations copyright © Sara Ogilvie, 2019

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  The right of Andy Shepherd and Sara Ogilvie to be identified as author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988