Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher: A Magic Shop Book

by Bruce Coville; Gary A. Lippincott

  The fog seemed to muffle the sound of Tiamat's footsteps. Jeremy felt as if he and Tiamat were the only things moving through the silence and the darkness.

  Finally he slid off her back and asked her to fly ahead to see if she could see anything. She hadn't been gone more than a few seconds when he felt a great sense of isolation sweep over him. Come back! he thought desperately.

  He could feel Tiamat wheel above him. The rush of her wings as she landed made the fog swirl in a way that was almost angry.

  Nasty, she sent.

  Jeremy put his hand on her scaly neck, and they walked on. No need to ride her now. No one could see him through this stuff.

  Soon the fog was so dense that even with the flashlight Jeremy couldn't see more than a few feet ahead. The flashlight was still helpful, though, because if he stood right at the base of a street sign, the beam reached just far enough for him to read the name.

  After they passed Oak, Ash, and Willow, something strange began to happen. They started to cross.

  streets he had never heard of before—streets with names like Wand, Staff, and Stave.

  Two blocks past Stave, Jeremy thought they had found the corner they were seeking. He wasn't sure, because there was no street sign—only a narrow dirt path that led into a thick forest. The thing was, there were no dirt paths crossing Main Street . . . and no forests in Blodgett's Crossing.

  "Mr. Elives?" called Jeremy.

  His voice seemed to vanish in the mist.

  "Mr. Elives?"

  No answer.

  He pointed the flashlight at his watch. As the second hand swept up to make 11:30 on the dot, a hooded figure stepped from the mist. Jeremy swallowed. The newcomer was tall—much taller than the old man he had met in the shop.

  He was about to run when the figure reached up and pulled back its hood.

  Jeremy blinked. "What are you doing here?" he asked in astonishment.

  Thirteen - Nothing You Love Is Lost

  It was Miss Priest, the librarian. She wore a crown of daisies in her hair. She stared at Jeremy, and he saw something terrible in her eyes, fierce and sad and angry all at the same time.

  "Greetings, Hatcher," she said. "Did you bring the teeth?"

  Jeremy nodded and held up the bag. Then, thinking that Miss Priest might not be able to see him in the darkness, he whispered, "Yes."

  "And the skins?"

  "Yes. And the eggshells."

  Miss Priest murmured her approval, then turned to Tiamat and made a deep curtsy. "And how are you tonight, milady?"

  To Jeremy's astonishment, Tiamat raised her head and shot a line of flame fifteen feet into the sky.

  "Indeed!" said Miss Priest. She sounded impressed. She turned to Jeremy and whispered. "You have done well."

  "Thank you."

  For a moment, no one said anything else. Finally Jeremy asked, "What happens next?"

  "You may go home if you wish," replied Miss Priest. "Your job is finished."

  Jeremy looked at her in shock. Just like that, it was over? He handed his dragon to a strange woman on a dark corner, and that was the end of it? "I don't want to go home," he said.

  "Then if you are feeling brave, you may come with me."

  Jeremy swallowed. He wasn't feeling brave at all. But neither did he feel like just letting go of Tiamat.

  "Where are we going?"

  "To a place you've already been."

  "The mag—"

  She pressed a finger to his lips, warning him to silence. "Careful, Hatcher," she whispered. "This is a strange night, and words have more power than you think, even under the best of circumstances. Try not to use them unnecessarily."

  Jeremy nodded.

  "Turn off your flashlight."

  He did as she asked. Miss Priest took his hand and led him into the darkness. The mist was damp against his face. It wove about the trunks of the trees, gleaming silver in the moonlight. The night was oddly silent, as if the darkness were swallowing

  all sound, even that of his footsteps. When he looked behind him to be sure that Tiamat was still there, he could see her green eyes glowing in the dark.

  No need to look, she informed him. You can tell if I'm here.

  Jeremy nodded. Even if she couldn't see the gesture, he knew she would sense his response.

  After a while he could see a light through the fog. As they drew closer, Jeremy saw that it came from the magic shop. But the store was not sitting at the end of a street, as he had first seen it. It was in a forest clearing.

  Jeremy swallowed nervously.

  The door swung open as they approached. Miss Priest entered first. Jeremy followed. Tiamat came last, tucking her wings against her sides. When Jeremy turned to watch, he had a sense that the door was stretching itself to let her pass. He blinked, and she was in.

  The hoot of an owl made him look to the back of the store.

  "Greetings," said Mr. Elives. He shuffled across the floor, stopping in front of Tiamat, who took up most of the available space. He examined the dragon for a few moments, then turned to Jeremy and said, "It appears that you have done a good job."

  "Thank you."

  "What is her spoken name?"

  "Tiamat."

  Mr. Elives snorted. "The Queen of the Universe! Well, her line always did have a streak of vanity. Of course, that's not her real name. She can't tell you that."

  Jeremy felt a twinge of jealousy. Did the old man know her real name?

  Mr. Elives turned to Miss Priest. She had moved to one of the counters, where she was unrolling the skins Jeremy had brought. "How is that coming?" he asked.

  "It will be ready," said Miss Priest, without looking up. "You'd best see to your part."

  Muttering to himself, Mr. Elives gestured to the dragon, and then shuffled out of the room.

  Folding her wings and pulling in her sides so she could get around the counter, Tiamat followed.

  Jeremy started after her, but Miss Priest put a hand on his shoulder. "Stay here," she whispered.

  Jeremy jumped. He had thought she was still at the counter.

  When Miss Priest saw that he wasn't going to argue, she returned to her work. After a bit, Jeremy walked over to see what she was doing. As he watched, she began matching the teeth he had brought with some pieces of dark wood.

  "Why are you doing that?"

  "I'm going to make a gate." She picked up one of the teeth and inserted it into a notch that had been carved in the end of one of the sticks. "You may help if you wish," she said, without looking at him.

  Jeremy thought he caught a hint of challenge in her voice. He hesitated. Helping her build a gate to send Tiamat to another world felt a little like helping to weave a rope for his own hanging. But it was better than standing around and feeling helpless. "What do I do?" he asked.

  Miss Priest picked up one of the sticks. It was about as long as her index finger, and slightly thinner than a pencil. "See this notch?" she said, pointing to one end of the stick. "You slide the tooth in like this."

  As she spoke, she inserted a small tooth in the stick. The tooth, which was wide at the base, tapered to a wicked point. The base fit snugly into the notch. At first, Jeremy thought the combination of stick and tooth looked like a little spear. Then he noticed the hole drilled through the other end of the stick, and decided that the whole thing looked more like a big needle.

  "You try," said Miss Priest.

  Jeremy picked up one of the smaller teeth. But when he tried to slide it into a stick, his hand slipped, and he jabbed the tooth into his own palm. It disappeared into the flesh. Crying out, he pressed his thumb against the wound to stop the bleeding.

  "That was an interesting thing to do," said Miss Priest. "We'll have to check to make sure we still have enough."

  Jeremy watched her spread the remaining sticks and teeth across the counter. Wasn't she going to offer him a bandage or something?

  Miss Priest matched the sticks to the teeth.

  "Good," she said. "We hav
e just the right number."

  "What about this?" asked Jeremy, moving his thumb to show her his cut.

  Miss Priest looked at him. "What about it?"

  Jeremy glanced at his hand. The wound was gone. All that remained to show what had happened was a smear of drying blood and a short white line where the tooth had entered his skin.

  "Done!" said Miss Priest, setting the last tooth into the last stick. "Though I can't say you were much help."

  Despite the. chiding words, her face was still and calm.

  She reached for one of the skins. As she spread it in front of her, she turned over her right hand. In the center of her palm Jeremy saw a white line that looked exactly like the new mark in his own hand. He blinked. But when he started to ask her about it, Miss Priest shook her head and placed a finger against her lips. She tipped her head toward the back of the shop, where Mr. Elives had gone, then shook it once more.

  Each gesture was small and silent. Jeremy's head swirled with the sense of secrets within secrets. He felt trapped between powers that he didn't understand.

  Miss Priest turned her hand away from him. Pulling a bit of eggshell from the box, she used its sharp edge to cut the skin in a spiral shape.

  "You see?" she said, as she threaded a strip of the skin through one of the needles they had made. "Shell, skin, and tooth all work together. They are all supposed to go back to her world. Nothing should remain here."

  "I don't want Tiamat to go back," said Jeremy sullenly. "I want her to stay here with me."

  Miss Priest laughed. It was not a horrible laugh at all. "What a terrible idea!" she said. "Why do you want her to stay?"

  "Because I love her. I don't want to lose her."

  Miss Priest reached out and took his chin in her hand. She looked into his eyes. "You silly boy," she said. "Nothing you love is lost. Not really. Things, people—they always go away, sooner or later. You can't hold them, any more than you can hold moonlight. But if they've touched you, if they're inside you, then they're still yours. The only things you ever really have are the ones you hold inside your heart."

  She turned away from him and lowered her head. Then she crossed her hands over her chest and whispered:

  Full moon's light to wake the egg, Full moon's light to hatch it; Midsummer Night will break your heart All Hallow's Eve may patch it.

  Jeremy recognized the poem; it was the one he had recited on the night he hatched the egg.

  Or is it? It seems different, somehow.

  Before he could work out what had changed, Mr. Elives came back. "It's nearly time," he said softly.

  Jeremy looked at his watch. Five minutes till midnight.

  "Where's Tiamat?" he asked.

  Mr. Elives nodded toward the back of the shop. But when Jeremy started in that direction, the old man put out a hand to stop him.

  "I have to tell her good-bye," said Jeremy.

  Mr. Elives shook his head. "You can't go back there."

  "But I didn't tell her good-bye. I didn't tell her I love her."

  Before Mr. Elives could refuse him again, Miss Priest put her hand on the old man's arm. "Let the boy in," she said.

  The old man snorted, but shrugged.

  Jeremy passed beyond the curtain, into a place unlike anything he had ever seen before. The walls, if they were walls, seemed to be made of nothing but mist. A dim light suffused the area. In the middle crouched Tiamat. She looked frightened.

  Jeremy was frightened, too. Frightened by the strangeness of the place, by what he knew was about to happen. But he could not turn back. Crossing to Tiamat, he put his arms about her neck and laid his head against hers.

  I shall miss you so, he told her.

  She nodded, and sent him an image of a crystal breaking in half.

  "Now step away," said Mr. Elives crossly.

  "I love you, Tiamat," whispered Jeremy. He stumbled back and watched as Miss Priest and Mr. Elives assembled the sticks and the strips of skin into a circle on the ground. They scattered the bits of eggshell across it. Mr. Elives gestured, and the circle tipped up, until it formed a glowing gate. The bits of eggshell floated within the circle, shining like distant stars.

  "The time has come, milady," said Miss Priest softly.

  Tiamat stepped forward. Jeremy could feel her slipping away from him. He closed his eyes. Don't go! he thought desperately. Don't go!

  Suddenly Jeremy felt like he was being torn in half. He cried out. As he did, he heard an answering squeal of pain. Opening his eyes he saw an awful sight. Tiamat, half in the circle and half out, was shaking with terrible spasms. Light sparked and flashed around her.

  "Something's holding her!" cried Miss Priest.

  Mr. Elives turned to Jeremy. "Let her go, you little fool!" he shouted. "Let her go!"

  Miss Priest ran to Jeremy's side. "Let her go, Hatcher," she cried. "She'll die, trapped between two worlds. If you love her, you have to let her go."

  A great sob tore from Jeremy's throat. Go! he thought. Go home!

  And then it was over. Tiamat was gone, and the place where they stood was plunged into darkness.

  Miss Priest wrapped Jeremy in her cloak and guided him back into the shop.

  "The side door will get you home more quickly," she said. Then, bending close to his ear, she whispered, "Be brave, Dragon Hatcher. Nothing you love is ever really lost."

  Jeremy barely realized he had left the shop, until he found himself only a few blocks from home. The fog was gone, the full moon once more clear in the sky.

  A warm wind whispered around him and the leaves overhead rustled with secrets. Jeremy didn't listen. Moaning, he stumbled to a tree and pressed his head against it.

  Tiamat was gone.

  Clutching the rough bark, he began to sob.

  Epilogue

  The summer dragged by in a blur of emptiness. Jeremy watched Specimen paint the window of Zambreno's Department Store. Although Specimen invited him to help, Jeremy couldn't bring himself to lift a brush. He hadn't done a bit of art since Midsummer Night.

  Fat Pete returned in July, wearing a new scar and crankier than ever.

  Howard and Freddy whispered to each other whenever they saw Jeremy in the park. But they stayed away from him, as they had ever since Jeremy and Tiamat had chased Freddy away.

  Mary Lou, who gave up trying to talk to him, watched with sorrowful eyes as he moved further and further into himself.

  His parents grew increasingly worried. When his mother asked, "Why don't you draw anymore, sweetheart?" as she did on several occasions, Jeremy only shrugged. He didn't know how to explain; he couldn't even explain it to himself.

  He did not go back to the library, either. He didn't want to see Miss Priest. Not that he blamed her for the loss of Tiamat—at least, not much. He just didn't want to see her.

  In August she sent him a note, telling him he could have the book she had loaned him. "It's not a library book," she wrote. "Rather, it is from my private collection. Keep it, as a thank-you for your efforts."

  He thought often of the words she had whispered to him the night that Tiamat left. "Midsummer Night will break your heart, All Hallow's Eve may patch it."

  What was that supposed to mean, anyway? Time heals everything? Big deal. He knew he would get over this, sooner or later. In a way. But nothing could convince him that life would ever be the same as it had been when he had had a dragon.

  Summer came to an end. He started seventh grade, which meant a new school and new teachers. He moved through the halls as if he were just visiting, never becoming a part of it. He carried Tiamat's tear with him wherever he went.

  In October, his parents decided to have a party.

  "An old-fashioned Halloween party," said his father, trying to inspire some enthusiasm in Jeremy. "We'll have a bonfire in the field, fresh cider, real costumes—no store-bought stuff allowed!"

  Jeremy smiled grimly, and helped with the preparations. His father lit the bonfire with great ceremony, announcing they were celebrat
ing a night when magic was let loose upon the world.

  "It's beautiful, isn't it?" asked Mary Lou, walking up to stand beside him. She was dressed like a witch.

  Jeremy shrugged. The leaping flames reminded him of Tiamat. It hurt to watch them.

  Several other kids from school were at the party, too. Jeremy said hello to each of them, but not much else. His eyes were continually drawn back to the bonfire. As he watched the dancing flames he felt something struggling to break free inside him.

  To his surprise, Miss Priest was at the party.

  "Your mother invited me," she murmured, when she saw him at the refreshment table. "I hope you don't mind."

  He shook his head numbly. But when he got a chance, he fled to the barn. Crawling into the stall where Tiamat had stayed, he pulled the diamond tear from his pocket and began to weep. His eyes burned, and his throat felt like it was on fire.

  The weeping passed like a storm. Lying on the straw, he stared into the darkness, listening to the noises of the party outside. He was drifting off to sleep when a swirl of color flowed through his head.

  Shivering, he sat up. Suddenly the nearly forgotten scar where Tiamat's tooth had pierced his palm began to throb. Sweat poured off his brow. He felt like someone had pounded a wedge into the back of his skull and was trying to lift off the top.

  He clawed at the stall wall in a panic, until, suddenly, he understood what was happening. Tiamat was back!

  "Ti?" he called. "Ti, where are you?"

  Here! she whispered inside his head.

  He spun around. She was nowhere in sight.

  He turned again. Where are you? he thought desperately, terrified by the idea that he had lost the ability to see her.

  Here, she repeated. Right here with you.

  Finally he understood. She was not back in this world; she was still in her own world, where she belonged. But she was back inside his head.

  Even better, he was inside her head. He was seeing through her eyes, feeling through her skin.