Dragon White

by Shoo Rayner

  The man closed the door gently and looked around. He’d not really noticed Merlin’s Cave before. It wasn’t the sort of shop he’d ever needed to visit. What did people buy in shops like this?

  Imelda watched as the man picked things up, studied them and put them back down again.

  Not many men came into the shop on their own, they were usually with their wives or girlfriends. They often looked out of place and a little uncomfortable being there.

  There are two kinds of magic. The type you see on the TV — all show business and fluttering white doves, done by men in top hats and twirly moustaches — and then there is the other kind of magic — quiet magic, Earth magic, that is mostly women’s work.

  ‘You’re Ryan’s dad, aren’t you?’ Imelda asked.

  ‘And you must be Mrs Spelltravers,’ said Ryan’s dad. ‘Ryan’s told me all about you.’

  Imelda held out her hand. ‘Call me Imelda.’

  Ryan’s dad ignored the gesture and folded his arms. ‘I’ve come about a dragon.’ It was almost a whisper.

  Imelda nodded. ‘I thought as much.’ Behind the heavy green velvet curtains that separated the shop from the storeroom and the rest of the house, something rustled.

  ‘I want one!’ Ryan’s dad growled. ‘I want a dragon.’

  Imelda pointed to a couple of shelves where models of dragons were displayed. This was Wales, home of the dragon, and tourists loved buying dragons as souvenirs. Some of them had A Gift from St Gertrude’s printed on them.

  Since the mayor had written his local history book, and had uncovered the legend of St Gertrude taming a dragon, a little model of a dragon encircling a beautiful woman had become their bestseller.

  The model was meant to come as part of a set with St George on a white horse, but as he didn’t fit in the story, the manufacturers were happy to sell them on their own and change the words on the side from St George to St Gertrude and the Dragon. Tourists loved them.

  Ryan’s dad looked at the shelves, tutted and shook his head. ‘I mean … I want a real dragon.’

  The heavy green velvet curtain twitched.

  They held each other’s gaze for a long time, assessing each other’s mental strength, both surprised at how good their opponent was at this game.

  The curtains shook and quivered. A low growl filled the silence of the shop. Imelda and Ryan’s dad ignored it, still staring each other out.

  Imelda was the first to look away. Something moved in the edge of her vision, attracting her attention. Something red and shiny.

  It leaped into the air and hovered above the herbal remedies. Its leathery wings, cracking and flapping, whipped the air into a chilly draught. A tiny wisp of smoke trailed behind it.

  The creature pulled back its head and opened its mouth wide. Its eyeballs slid back into their sockets, protecting them from the yellow, fiery jet of flame that roared from of its nostrils like a flame-thrower.

  Ryan’s dad fell to the floor, covering his head with his arms.

  Imelda ordered, ‘Tân! NO!’

  Tân dropped onto the cash register, standing guard over the unwelcome visitor. A final wisp of smoke trailed into the air as he extinguished the fires in his belly.

  ‘Tân!’ Imelda spoke in a quiet, measured tone. ‘Leave us. Go back to your box right now. I can handle this.’

  The little dragon hopped to the floor and shuffled backwards towards the storeroom. He never took his eye off the man until Imelda drew the curtains closed behind him.

  ‘I want a dragon!’ Ryan’s dad growled, heaving himself up off the floor. ‘I could have been scarred for life just now! I could have been killed by that — that — that — Tân! I want a dragon or else I’m going straight to the police, and you know what they’ll do, don’t you?’

  Ryan’s dad bared his teeth in a smile. ‘Harri’s precious dragon will be put in a zoo, kept behind bars to keep the public safe. We can’t have dragons roaming around setting fire to everything, can we?’

  Imelda was between a rock and a hard place. Harri would be heartbroken if Tân was taken away. It was all her fault. She should never have created Tân in the first place. Dragons were always trouble, one way or another.

  Her eyes dropped to the floor. Imelda had just run out of choices.

  ‘I need a drawing of a dragon,’ she whispered. ‘Draw it yourself — it must be your dragon. Don’t come back here. I’ll come to you tomorrow at midday. Now go!’

  The bell tinkled, its once friendly sound seeming hollow and shrill.

  Ask not for whom the bell tolls, Imelda remembered the words of a poem. It tolls for thee.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mum was so happy and busy showing Imelda her new shoes, she hadn’t noticed the slight sadness in Harri’s eyes. But when Harri had come in at the back door after school and found them both in the kitchen, Imelda had seen it. There were so few customers they’d shut the door and closed the shop for the day.

  Imelda put her nose into the giant bouquet of flowers that Mum had bought for her, and took a deep breath. ‘They are beautiful!’ she said for the sixth time. ‘Thank you so much. I really should put them in some water.’

  ‘And look what I got for you,’ Mum giggled. She handed Harri a stripy paper bag. ‘Well, it’s not for you, it’s for Tân really.’

  Harri put his hand into the bag and pulled out a shiny, golden dog collar. It was studded with imitation plastic rubies.

  ‘It’s got a name tag and all!’ Mum said. ‘I’m afraid the machine couldn’t engrave the accent over the letter “a”, though!’

  Harri turned the golden disk over. Sure enough, the letters ‘T-a-n’ had been engraved into the metal.

  ‘It’s great, Mum! Thanks.’

  ‘Well, come on! Let’s see if it fits. I think its really meant to be for a poodle or a Yorkshire terrier.’

  Harri sat down in the armchair by the cooking range. Tân, pleased to see him back from school, jumped onto his lap to see if Harri had any special treats for him.

  ‘Hold your head up,’ Harri told him. ‘And… Oh yeah! That is soooo cool! Tân, you look amazing. Thanks, Mum! Say thanks, Tân.’

  Tân made a little bow and snuffed — a word that Harri had made up to describe the sound Tân made when he was excited — sort of half sneeze and half puff.

  Mum’s good mood was infectious. Soon they were all cheerfully helping to make tea. Harri peeled potatoes and Imelda, with tears streaming down her plump cheeks, chopped onions, while Mum cooked and told them about all the amazing things she’d seen and all the ideas she’d had for the shop.

  ‘The lights!’ Mum said. ‘They do amazing things with lights in those big stores. I’m sure we can do something here, make the place look just a little bit more magical. Lighting helps to set the mood. And smells too, here, what do you think of this?’

  She rummaged in her shopping bags and pulled out a can. She sprayed a fine mist into the air. ‘Fruits of the forest, it’s called. What do you think of that?’ she demanded.

  ‘All I can smell is onions!’ Imelda sniffed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘Night, Ry. Sleep tight.’ Ryan’s dad turned out the light in his son’s bedroom.

  ‘Dad?’ Ryan called from in darkness.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Oh, never mind. Night night.’ Ryan closed his eyes and thought about Harri and Tân. He knew that he’d destroyed their friendship. Harri was his only real friend too. He’d never get to play with Tân again. Not now.

  Ryan’s dad settled himself down at the kitchen table. He’d found an old pad of drawing paper and a battered set of coloured pencils in the cupboard under the stairs.

  On the way home, he’d popped into the library again and renewed his membership. He’d found two excellent books about dragons. They now lay open in front of him. Fantastic illustrations showed fearsome teeth and claws. One of the illustrations was so real, it could have been a photograph.

  Ryan’s dad drew the image he wanted again an
d again, tracing, copying, refining his drawing until at last, just after eleven, he was finally happy with his work.

  He held the drawing up and smiled.

  ‘Let’s see what you think of that, Imelda Spelltravers!’ he jeered.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next day at school, nothing had changed. Ryan was either avoiding Harri or ignoring him. What had Harri done? Why was Ryan behaving like that?

  Harri spent most of breaktime talking to Jack and Ben, which was okay, but Jack did go on and on about all the horror films that he’d watched. Some of the descriptions made Harri feel quite creepy.

  The day dragged on like any other day, except that Ryan didn’t want to be part of it.

  That night, Imelda poked her head round Harri’s bedroom door. ‘Night night, Harri,’ she whispered.

  Harri’s Star Wars bedside light cast a gentle pattern of stars across the ceiling. Tân shuffled about at the bottom of the bed, trying to get comfortable. Dylan, Harri’s cat, had got the best position.

  ‘Night, Imelda,’ Harri smiled, sleepily.

  ‘Everything okay at school today?’ the old lady asked.

  ‘Mmm,’ Harri nodded. ‘Well, no, actually, Ryan’s acting weird. He’s stopped talking to me. It’s like he’s avoiding me. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.’ Tears welled up in his eyes.

  Imelda sat down on the edge of Harri’s bed and took his hand. ‘It’s all my fault.’ She sighed. ‘I should never have got you involved with dragons, but then … maybe it was meant to be.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Harri’s face crumpled into a confused frown.

  Imelda shrugged. ‘Dragons can have a powerful effect on some people, and the effect they have depends on the nature of the person. You’re a lovely boy, Harri, and Tân is a lovely dragon. He’s sweet-natured and funny, like you, but he’s also fiercely loyal … like you.’

  Tân rolled over and flopped his head on the covers. Dylan lazily opened one eye and humpfed.

  Harri laughed and tickled Tân under the chin. ‘He knows we’re talking about him.’

  Tân blinked and snuffed, as only he could.

  ‘Do you think Mr Davies has been affected?’ Harri asked. ‘I’m worried he knows the truth about Tân.’

  ‘Oh yes, he’s been affected alright!’ Imelda chuckled. ‘He’s besotted with the whole idea of dragons, especially red ones. But he’s so besotted with the idea, he can’t actually see the real one that’s right in front of his face!’

  Should she tell him? Honesty is the best policy — little white lies always end up in a tangle of big, fat lies and mistrust.

  ‘It’s not Mr Davies I’m worried about,’ she began. ‘It’s … it’s Ryan’s dad.’

  ‘Ryan’s dad?’ Harri looked confused.

  ‘He knows about Tân.’ There, she’d said it now.

  Harri’s jaw dropped, his mouth hung open and hot patches of red glowed on his cheeks as the implications sunk in.

  ‘Has Ryan told him?’ Harri hissed through gritted teeth. ‘He swore he would never tell anyone.’

  ‘You mustn’t blame Ryan,’ Imelda said, gently. ‘His dad is a very clever man. He knows how to persuade people to do and say things. I’m sure he can get Ryan to do anything he likes.’

  Harri punched his fist into the duvet. Tân and Dylan leaped off the bed and hid inside the wardrobe.

  ‘I’m never going to speak to him again!’ Harri said.

  ‘Never say never,’ Imelda soothed. ‘Ryan is probably feeling pretty sick with himself. I’m sure he didn’t mean to tell about Tân. His dad would have made him talk somehow. I saw his dad at the parade on Saturday. He saw you feeding worms to Tân.’

  Worms? Tân decided it was safe to come out of the wardrobe and jump back onto the bed. If someone was talking about worms, he wanted to be where the action was.

  There were no worms, but the spot where Dylan had been sleeping was free. Tân sunk into the dip in the duvet that still held Dylan’s warmth. He shrugged his wings and settled down to sleep.

  ‘I think Ryan probably needs your friendship now more than ever,’ Imelda went on. ‘And I have a feeling you are going to need his friendship too. Very much.’

  Harri didn’t like the idea of losing Ryan as a friend but…

  He closed his eyes and buried his head in the pillows. Harri was a forgiving boy, not one to bear grudges. Imelda was right. Ryan wouldn’t have told his dad unless he really had to.

  Harri sighed deeply. ‘Night, Imelda. Thanks for telling me. At least I know I haven’t done anything wrong.’

  Imelda brushed a golden curl away from Harri’s eyes. ‘Of course you haven’t.’

  She stayed with him for a while as his breathing became more shallow. The frown on his face faded into a peaceful, gentle smile.

  Dylan jumped silently onto the bed and curled up next to Tân.

  ‘Night, night, Harri. Sleep tight.’ Imelda gently closed the door behind her as she crept out onto the landing. ‘Night, Tân. Night, Dyl.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  The clock in the hall chimed twelve times for midday. A moment later, almost as if it were a thirteenth chime, the doorbell rang.

  ‘She’s punctual!’ Ryan’s dad muttered to himself, shuffling across the hallway in his slippers and unlocking the heavy front door.

  Imelda stood on the doorstep in her pointy hat and long green cloak. She carried a basket covered with a red checked tea towel.

  Ryan’s dad nearly laughed. She looked like something out of a fairy tale. In fact, she looked like that character in the kid’s books Ryan had won in school last year. He’d sold them on ebay. What were they called? The Happy Witch?

  Imelda didn’t wait to be invited in. She stepped into the hallway and took command of the situation.

  ‘Let’s get on with it, then,’ she said briskly. ‘Let’s have the drawing. You did do a drawing, like I said?’

  ‘Err, yeah!’ Ryan’s dad was surprised. It was his house, but she was in charge. He led the way into the big kitchen and pulled the drawing pad out of a drawer. The drawer closed itself with a quiet, expensive, satisfying bump.

  ‘Come on, show me!’ Imelda clicked her fingers impatiently. She wanted this over and done with as quickly as possible. She was buying time now so she could work out what to do later.

  The only colour on the drawing was the blue crayon in the sky behind the creature. ‘It’s a white dragon you’re wanting, is it?’

  Ryan’s dad nodded.

  ‘Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this? Dragons are tricky creatures.’ Imelda fixed him with her pale blue eyes. ‘Whatever happens, it will be entirely your responsibility.’

  This was a business transaction, he didn’t want to get involved in chit-chat.

  ‘I’m sure,’ he said gruffly.

  Imelda uncovered her basket, revealing an egg and a bottle of brown, gloopy liquid lying on a bed of straw. She removed the egg and unscrewed it.

  Ryan’s dad was amazed. His face looked much the same as Harri’s did the day Imelda first came to the shop and began this whole dragon business with a magic egg just like this one.

  She took the drawing and scrunched it up into a ball and, just as she had done with Harri’s drawing, she placed it gently inside the bottom half of the egg.

  Ryan’s dad watched, open-mouthed, as Imelda placed the two halves of the egg together. The egg twisted, screwing itself back together, slowly turning round and round. The egg glowed for a moment, wobbled slightly, then came to rest on the kitchen table.

  It was a perfect egg. Its surface was smooth and there was no sign of a join or that it had ever been in two halves.

  ‘How did you do that?’ he gasped.

  She shook her head and looked at him as if he were a simple, ignorant child.

  ‘It’s magic!’ she snorted.

  Ryan’s dad felt small and stupid. He picked up the egg. It was warm and heavy. Moments ago, it had been a hollow shell with a piece of pap
er inside.

  ‘You will need to keep it warm for about a week to ten days,’ Imelda instructed in her brisk, efficient tone. She handed him the bottle. ‘And you’ll need to take a tablespoon of this everyday. Now, if that’s all, I must be going. I’ll see myself out.’

  It took a few minutes to realise what had just happened. If that was magic, there hadn’t been any spells or incantations nor any smoke or flashing lights. She was either winding him up or … she really was a witch and he was a holding a real, live dragon’s egg in his hand!

  It had all happened so quickly. Had she really screwed the egg together?

  He made a nest with kitchen towel in an old ice cream tub and placed it on the sunny windowsill to keep warm. Then he searched online for those things they use for hatching chicken’s eggs. His fingers flew across the keyboard until he found what he was looking for — they were called incubators.

  An advert came up for a chain of country stores. There was one on the edge of town. He’d driven past it a hundred times but, not being a farmer, he’d never gone inside. He phoned the store to see if they had any incubators in stock.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ the bored-sounding girl had told him. ‘We’ve got all the different sizes in at the moment.’

  It hadn’t taken long to drive there and get one, and it hadn’t taken long to set it up in a locked cupboard in a secret corner of the garage.

  He opened the bottle of brown liquid that Imelda had given him and sniffed it.

  ‘Pfwaah!’ It was revolting! What on earth was in it? Was she trying to poison him? Was that her game?

  He hid the bottle behind the incubator and locked the cupboard door. Evidence! If anything went wrong, he could use the witch’s poison as evidence against her!

  Chapter Eighteen

  Harri wrote on a piece of paper, then he folded it over three or four times, so no one would open and read it, then he wrote Ryan’s name on it.

  When Mr Davies turned to the whiteboard and started pointing out how the semicolons were being used in a poem, Harri nudged Megan and gave her the message.