The Last Dragon Chronicles #5: Dark Fire

by Chris d'Lacey

  “I called him about the unicorn before I got into the shower.”

  “What did he say?”

  “To be careful. He’s going to get Zanna to check it out. By the way, they had a surprise visitor at the house. Some girl named Melanie and her mom.”

  “Melanie Cartwright?”

  “That sounds right. He said they brought a dragon with them.”

  Lucy nodded. Glade.

  “David wants you to compile a list of any other special dragons you remember that might be outside Wayward Crescent, particularly any listeners.”

  Lucy sank back a little and frowned. “There were loads. Mom would know more than —”

  “Your mom’s still sleeping,” he said gently. He tossed the comb aside. “Anyway, for the moment, let’s concentrate on the situation here. Get yourself ready for breakfast. Act like nothing weird has happened.”

  “What about the flying stones? What if someone asks?”

  “We were holed up in the car. Weirdest hailstorm we’d ever seen. We’ll hear what Hannah has to say and we’ll just observe for now.”

  “But —”

  “No ‘buts.’ I’m here to keep you out of trouble, Lucy.”

  “But,” she persisted anyway, “if Bella tells Ms. Gee we’ve got Gwendolen —”

  “Then she’ll know we’re not to be underestimated. She’s played her hand and failed to raise the dragon. Now she’ll watch and wait as well. She doesn’t know the key to it; she might think we do.”

  “But … we don’t know how to raise the dragon — do we?”

  Tam opened the wardrobe and took out a sweater. “No, but Gadzooks and David want us here for a reason. I’m pretty sure we’re going to find out. The National Endeavor is published this morning. Our findings are going to be all over the news. This is the day the Earth’s history changes. It could be a long one. Might be dramatic. You want my advice, Lucy Pennykettle?”

  She looked up openly.

  “Start it on a decent breakfast.”

  35 BREAKFAST FOR THREE

  There were four tables in the guesthouse dining area. Ms. Gee had taken the best one by the window. She was sitting perfectly upright, as if she’d been born with a pole for a spine. She didn’t look up when Tam and Lucy entered, but just slid her eyes sideways to note where they were sitting. Tam chose a table by the oak-paneled wall, underneath an aerial photograph of Scuffenbury. He flapped out a napkin and wished Ms. Gee good morning. The old woman stiffened. She raised a triangle of dry toast to her mouth and snapped off the corner, as if she’d like to do the same to his head. Tam smiled and picked up the breakfast menu. “Cooked or continental?” he said to Lucy.

  She glanced at Ms. Gee. Mushrooms. The old bag was eating Gwilanna’s favorite dish. “Continental,” she said, and went across to a long sideboard where Hannah had laid out fruit, yogurts, cereals, and a variety of cold meats.

  And croissants, a pastry never seen in the Pennykettle household. Lucy was considering whether she should try one (and how best to eat one) when Clive breezed in and switched on a small, wall-mounted TV. “Good morning, everyone. Forgive me if I appear rude, but I thought you’d all like to see this.”

  The screen unfolded on an outside broadcast from somewhere coastal and icy.

  “Svalbard,” said Clive, pointing at the banner of information scrolling across the bottom of the screen. “Norway.” He was almost panting with excitement. “In the early hours of this morning there were reports from a research station on one of the eastern islands — Nordaustlandet, I think — of significant activity on one of the surging glaciers there.”

  Tam stood up to get closer to the screen.

  “What’s a surging glacier?” asked Lucy.

  “One that’s capable of moving at an extraordinary speed,” Tam muttered.

  “Not as fast as this,” Clive said. “Something large exploded out of this baby. It caused a small tidal wave of icebergs and showered the mountains either side of it in ice. The precipitation is still coming down.”

  On the screen, a reporter was jabbering away under a golf umbrella. Lucy risked a glance at Ms. Gee. The sibyl wore a stern expression while sipping her tea, apparently uninterested.

  “But that’s only part of it,” Clive went on. “They’ll show the footage again in a minute.”

  Tam looked at him quizzically.

  “A marine environmentalist stationed there managed to get some film. It’s hard to see the creature because of the blizzard it caused when it broke out, but it’s unmistakably a dragon. Gold-colored. Fabulous. Massive wingspan. You get a glimpse of its eye — slit, like a reptile. And it’s been tracked.”

  “Tracked?” Lucy squeezed her napkin tight.

  Clive spoke over his shoulder to her. “Naval radar. They followed it to one of the Arctic islands. One of those that came out of the mist.”

  “What triggered this, do we know?” asked Tam.

  Clive lifted his shoulders. “Your guess is as good as mine. They’re saying that a comet was visible in those skies last night —”

  A fire star? Lucy mouthed at Tam.

  “Or maybe these creatures have simply got a very long-lived biological clock. Look, here comes the film. The beginning’s a bit shaky ‘cause the guy’s climbing to get a better shot, but if you stick with it —”

  “Switch it off.”

  The polished floor squeaked as Clive turned to Ms. Gee. “But this is the most extraordinary event since —”

  “I don’t wish to see it.”

  There was a crackle and the screen went dead.

  “What the —?” Clive whacked the set. “Oh, how’s that for timing?”

  Dead on, thought Tam, if you were hiding something. He slid back into his chair, acknowledging Ms. Gee with a carefully weighted smile. “It’s OK, Clive. We’ll catch up with the news later, no doubt. Whether there be dragons on the Earth or not, a guy still needs his breakfast. Wouldn’t you say so, Ms. Gee?”

  The old woman turned to the window, her wizened face draped in shadow. She ate the last of her mushrooms (with her fingers, Lucy noticed), dabbed her mouth, and exited the room.

  To Lucy’s great annoyance she was forced to spend the next quarter of an hour eating (when she really wanted to be talking to Tam), because Clive insisted on fiddling with the TV. Eventually he left in a bluster of frustration and Hannah came in to clear the plates and cups. She put everything onto a tray, but instead of going to the kitchen with them she placed the tray on the sideboard, slid the doors to the kitchen annex shut, and joined Tam and Lucy at their table. “Have you told your uncle about our conversation?”

  Lucy shrugged and rolled her lip. “Some of it, yes.”

  “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” said Tam. “Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?”

  “Small accident,” she said. “I’ve got my contact lenses in. Listen, I need to know that I can trust you.” She covered Lucy’s hand but kept her focus on Tam. “Both of you.”

  “That depends what you want of us,” he said. “Lucy tells me you warned her about Ms. Gee. Why?”

  Hannah sat back and spread her hands across the table, smoothing out creases in the tablecloth. “Do you believe in witchcraft, Mr. Farrell?”

  He folded his arms. “Are you accusing Ms. Gee of being a witch?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Lucy curled her hands into her lap.

  “Yesterday morning, I went into her room to make her bed and I found something disturbing.”

  A bag of bones? A straw effigy? A book of spells? Lucy had imagined all of these things before Hannah explained: “There was a loose sock on the floor.”

  “A sock?!” Lucy spluttered.

  “Please, keep your voice down,” Hannah said. “I picked it up and should have just left it on the bed. But for some reason I opened a drawer instead, and there, to my amazement, I found a dragon artifact.”

  “Oh?” said Lucy, much quieter now.

  “It was yellowish white, cru
sted with some kind of bacterial residue; I think it was a tooth.”

  “How do you know it’s from a dragon?” asked Tam.

  Hannah sat back smiling. “Come on, Mr. Farrell. Meet me halfway. It’s no coincidence that you’ve come to Scuffenbury at a time when the whole world is talking about dragons and on the day before the white horse is shown to be a unicorn — I take it you’ve checked the hill by now?”

  “Erm, yeah,” said Lucy. “We looked before breakfast, didn’t we — Uncle Tam?”

  “Go on,” he said to Hannah.

  “Bringing with you a beautiful red-haired child …”

  The significance of that was lost on Lucy, but she let it pass.

  “… and expect me to believe you’re not here to claim the dragon, like Ms. Gee surely is?”

  “Claim it?” Lucy wrinkled her nose.

  “We’re here to witness its waking,” said Tam. He picked up a saltcellar and relocated it behind the vinegar, as if he’d just checked Hannah’s king at chess.

  “That’s all.”

  She sat back, her face filling up with disappointment. “Then we’re doomed,” she said. “If Ms. Gee gets to the dragon first, I dread to think what will happen. I can assure you she’s not here to enjoy the scenery. She’s going to bring darkness upon us all.”

  Tam let his chair rock back on two legs. “And let’s just say we wanted to stop her. What would you propose we do?”

  Hannah leaned forward again. “Take Lucy directly to the dragon. She needs to be the one. She’s the innocent the legends predict.”

  Lucy was confused. She looked restlessly at Tam and noticed he was drawing the fingers of his left hand across his left palm, as if he was trying to access all the memories of the Teller of Ways.

  “All right, I’ll tell you what we know,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows. “Lucy is descended from a long dragon ancestry and we do expect her to commingle with the creature in stasis here, but we thought it would happen after the dragon emerged from the hill. From what you’re saying we can short-circuit that?”

  Hannah nodded excitedly, her hopes restored. “Yes. There’s still time. Before Ms. Gee completes her preparations.” She leaned in. Her hair smelled of rosemary and mint. “Listen carefully. The secret I’m about to share with you has been preserved by my family for centuries. It’s very short and very simple but very powerful: The creature can be woken by the song of an innocent red-headed girl — but she must be in physical contact with it.”

  Tam flicked his gaze at Lucy, who seemed anything but ready for such a daunting prospect. “It’s buried. How would we get to it?”

  From the pocket of her apron, Hannah drew out a map and unfolded it in front of them. “This is a diagram of the exploratory excavations that were made on Glissington some years ago. Clive’s father was one of the geologists involved. As you can see, they were a lot more extensive than was reported in the press. They found nothing and the main tunnel was eventually backfilled for several yards and the entrance sealed. The rest they left untouched. Shortly after the project was canceled, however, a subsidiary tunnel was started … here.” She pointed to an area on the side of the Tor nearest the guesthouse.

  “Your cellar?” Tam guessed.

  “Clive’s father was a believer, like us,” said Hannah. “He was convinced there was something in this hill, but he died before he could prove anything. For years, Clive has continued his work. He’s completed a link between the cellar and the original excavations, and he’s explored and extended many of the branches the geologists left behind. Progress has been slow, but last week he struck gold — or should I say, green.”

  Lucy gasped out loud. “He uncovered the dragon?”

  Hannah raised a finger to her lips. “Part of the tail, we think. If you do as I’ve suggested, we’ll know for certain.”

  Tam sounded a note of caution. “And … how do we avoid Ms. Gee’s ‘preparations’?”

  Hannah folded the map away. “She’s following the path of the accepted legend, which means she won’t make her next move until the moon rises. I was out walking early this morning and saw her do something quite extraordinary. She cast a spell to rebuild the Glissington cairn, then made it invisible somehow. I believe she’ll uncover it when the moon comes up. If she knows the incantations, and I’m sure she does, when the moon shines into the eye of the cairn she’ll turn its light back onto Scuffenbury Hill and fill the body of the unicorn with it, making it live again.”

  “What about the dragon?” said Lucy.

  “That version of the legend says that if the unicorn is calmed by a red-headed maiden, it will point its horn at the Tor and crack it open with a bolt of moonlight, allowing the maiden to claim the dragon. Maybe Ms. Gee had a way of getting around that, but you turning up completes the fairy tale and gives her options — or poses an unexpected threat. Either way, I think you’re in danger. Trust me, we have to get to the dragon before her. Ms. Gee sleeps in the early afternoon. Meet me in the kitchen at one o’clock and I’ll guide you through the tunnels. They’re complex. Lots of branches. You’d never find the way to Clive’s discovery on your own. Are we agreed?”

  Without looking at Lucy, Tam said, “Sounds like it might be quite an adventure.”

  “Oh, indeed,” said Hannah. And gathering the tray off the sideboard she slid the doors to the kitchen annex open and left her guests to finish their breakfast in peace.

  36 A MEMORY OF DRAGONS

  Mommy, there are BIG dragons on the TV.”

  Alexa pottered into Lucy’s room, where her mother was poring over the computer. Without turning away from the densely texted screen, Zanna stretched an arm and drew the girl to her. Her palm slid across the emerging wing butts. They seemed to grow more prominent by the hour. “You could always switch channels,” she muttered.

  Alexa shook her head. “The dragons are on ALL the buttons.” She put something down beside the keyboard. Zanna half-expected to see a mangled TV remote. Instead, it was Alexa’s white horse.

  “Why have you brought that in?”

  “I’m going to show Gwillan.”

  Zanna took off her dark-framed reading glasses. She touched the sculpture’s forehead. Smooth, like a horse. “How is Gwillan?”

  “Sad,” said the girl.

  “Oh, why’s that?”

  “Daddy won’t let him come out of the den.”

  Zanna suppressed a hmph. She sat back, chewing on the earpiece of her glasses.

  “The others have come out,” Alexa added.

  “Others? The other dragons? I thought they were all playing.”

  “That was yesterday,” Alexa said. “G’reth has gone downstairs. He’s watering the plants.”

  Zanna burst out laughing. G’reth, watering plants? The wishing dragon’s lethargy was legendary. Bringing his paws together to meditate was about as active as he usually got. “Why’s he doing that?”

  Alexa closed her mouth and thought about it. “It was Gwillan’s job.”

  “Oh, of course.” Zanna clicked her tongue. “G’reth’s helping him, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s very sweet.”

  “Mmm,” said the girl. “Will you come downstairs and see the dragons now?”

  “Well, I’m sort of busy here, darling.”

  “But … there isn’t long,” Alexa said, an undercurrent of frustration in her voice.

  Zanna reached absently for the child’s hand, accidentally clipping the head of the horse. The shock of almost knocking it onto the floor brought her attention back to the girl. “For what, baby? There isn’t long for what?”

  Alexa picked up her sculpture and stroked it. “Nothing,” she said. Her mood lifted again. “A dragon came out of a mountain in Japan.”

  “Really? You could see it?”

  “Yes. But it was very smoky. There were lots of rocks and puffly clouds and some … fire spilled out.”

  “I expect that was lava. Did it flow down the mountain?” Zann
a made a river with her fingers.

  “Mmm.”

  “Well, that must have been very exciting.” And frightening for the local community, Zanna thought. She pulled the girl closer until their hips bumped. “What did you mean ‘there isn’t long’?”

  Alexa swung her body left and right. “Before all the dragons come out.”

  “Oh? And what happens then?”

  The girl shrugged as if she was a little embarrassed. Then lifting her chin she blurted out brightly, “His name’s Gyrrhon.”

  “Who is?” asked Zanna. “The horse?”

  The little girl sighed. “No, the dragon that flew out of the mountain.”

  Zanna squeezed her waist. “How do you know that?”

  Alexa took a second or two to think. “I remember him,” she muttered.

  Her mother’s blood ran cold. “You remember him?”

  “From a long time ago. Mommy, what are you doing?”

  “I … erm.” Temporarily stunned, Zanna couldn’t think of anything to say. She replaced her glasses and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m finding some information for Daddy about …” She looked at the horse again and clicked the keyboard. An image of a unicorn appeared. “Do you know what this is?”

  “A magic horse.” Alexa’s smile lit the room.

  “Do you … remember anything about them?”

  Alexa thought hard. She touched the horse’s forehead, like her mother had done. “You’re going to see one,” she said, which chilled Zanna almost as much as the previous statement about the dragon.

  At that moment David walked in, carrying a rolled-up magazine. “Hi, how’s it going?” He stood behind Alexa and placed the palm of his hand on her forehead, making her hair froth over his fingers. The child’s face became a picture of absolute serenity. Her skin glowed as brightly as the computer screen.

  “What are you doing?” Zanna asked him, tensing up.

  He let his hand slip away. “Just saying hello. You find anything?”