Pete's Dragon Junior Novel

by Disney Book Group

  “If you go through the world only looking at what’s right in front of you, you miss out on a whole lot. And that’s where you have the upper hand. Because mark my words…”

  Mr. Meacham handed the little girl the delicate wooden dragon. All the kids gathered around her to look at it.

  “That dragon is still out there,” Mr. Meacham whispered. “And if you were to go out into those woods, where no one ever goes, maybe…maybe one of you might find it.”

  With a small laugh and a wink he snatched the wooden dragon back from the enthralled children.

  “Unless it finds you first.”

  The forest was still and quiet.

  Out from the deep brush, a small and very furry rabbit appeared. The rabbit sniffed the air tentatively, as it was young and inexperienced in the ways of the wilderness. Still, it knew to be careful of predators. The rabbit hopped cautiously toward the nearby gully—a good place to find water.

  A brook babbled up ahead. The rabbit hopped more quickly. But as it reached the edge of the brook, it stopped. It sniffed.

  Suddenly, a boy jumped out from the underbrush and grabbed the bunny with two hands, scooping it up in a rolling tumble.

  The boy laughed in delight. He was certainly not new to the forest, and he loved playing games with the small creatures that lived there. But the boy had not lived his whole life in the woods. In fact, he didn’t really belong there at all.

  The boy was none other than Pete.

  It had been several years since the night of the car crash. Pete looked taller than before, leaner, with much of his baby fat burned away by time. And his skin was darkened from years playing in the sun. The clothes he had been wearing when he’d arrived in the forest had been reduced to tatters. What used to be corduroy pants were now threadbare shorts. His shirt was gone altogether. And Pete’s hair had grown out into ratty tangles.

  Pete rolled upright, holding the rabbit and smiling. Somehow, the rabbit knew Pete wasn’t dangerous. It didn’t bite or fight back. Instead, it simply wriggled its nose. Pete wriggled his nose in response and gently placed the rabbit back on the ground.

  Suddenly, both Pete and the rabbit stopped. A new smell had entered the scene—one far less friendly….

  A huge brown bear had spotted them from the creek bed a few feet away.

  Not hesitating a beat, the rabbit vanished into the deep underbrush.

  Left alone, Pete stared at the bear.

  “Bear-er-er…” he whispered under his breath. The bear responded by rising onto its hind legs, fur bristling around its neck. It let out an angry bellow—a powerful rumble that could be heard all across the forest.

  Pete grinned, unfazed by the display. He clenched his fists tightly together, squared his shoulders, and took a massive breath. Then he let out the loudest and most powerful cry he could. It went on and on, echoing farther and louder than even the bear’s roar. For an eleven-year-old boy, it was quite impressive!

  But perhaps not impressive enough to scare off a large grizzly bear.

  The bear padded forward, moving closer and closer to the boy. It looked like Pete was about to become the bear’s lunch!

  And then, without warning, it stopped. The bear stood completely still. It turned and ran! Pete watched it scamper away. His cry must have frightened it after all.

  Pete grinned from ear to ear, the feeling of triumph warming him in the cool northwest air.

  Suddenly, he heard a rustle behind him and looked around to see a dragon emerging from the woods. His dragon. Pete’s grin grew wider. He hadn’t scared the bear away. His dragon had! Pete threw his arms open in greeting, yelling out the only name he could have ever given to the giant furry friend who had saved him from that cold, dark night so very long before.

  “Elliot!”

  The pair bounded into the creek, heading toward their daily adventures.

  For Pete and his dragon, it was a day like every other day. Pete carefully moved through the thickets of blackberries along a steep and rocky slope. After years of practice, the boy knew exactly where to find the juiciest fruits in the forest. One by one he plucked the berries and popped them into his mouth.

  Nearby, a loud crash echoed through the woods as Elliot tried his own fruit-picking method—grabbing a large bush with his powerful jaws and shaking it back and forth. Pete laughed with his arms spread out, catching as much of the raining fruit as he could. Then, with a single gulp, the dragon swallowed the rest of the blackberry bush—vines and thorns and all.

  Once they were through with their afternoon snack, the friends rushed down the gully and into the cold, clean river that cut through the woods. Pete splashed at the water, making his reflection ripple and swirl. Elliot wanted to make his reflection ripple, too. The dragon did a huge belly flop into the deepest part of the river. It made an enormous wave that washed up and over Pete! The boy splashed back to the surface, laughing. Elliot was always doing silly things like that.

  Full and happy, Pete took off running up a steep hill lined with tall pine trees. The large trunk of an older tree had fallen at an angle, forming a natural ramp up to the treetops. Pete scampered up the old trunk, gaining speed with every step. Within moments he was high among the branches, running quickly and confidently enough that there was no chance he would lose his balance; this was a path he knew very well.

  Reaching the trunk’s end, Pete leaped straight off and out into the air. There was nothing between him and the ground, save a hundred feet or so. And suddenly, there was Elliot, perfectly positioned for Pete to land on his back. The dragon caught Pete! With a whoop, Pete slid feetfirst down the dragon’s tail and landed safely on the ground.

  Pete whirled immediately back toward Elliot. But the dragon had disappeared without a trace….

  “Elliot?” Pete asked the empty air, knowing what the response would be.

  Pete made an exaggerated show of looking to his left. As he did, a sneaky green tail slithered down from above, carefully and quickly tapping the young boy on the right shoulder.

  Pete instinctively jumped. He looked up, trying to catch the dragon in the act—but he was already too late. For the quickest of moments, Elliot’s head appeared behind the boy. The dragon nudged the back of Pete’s neck with his long nose, then retreated backward.

  Pete whirled again—and again it was too late. Where Elliot had been only a second before, there were just trees.

  Suddenly, the forest shifted and wavered, like a mirage on a hot day. Elliot was right there, in plain sight, yet completely and thoroughly camouflaged. Pete had learned long ago that Elliot was able to change his color to blend in with his surroundings, sometimes even vanishing altogether as though he wasn’t there. The dragon returned to his normal green color and happily rolled over on his back, pleased with his game of hide-and-seek.

  With a laugh, Pete returned to the business of running, racing toward a nearby cliff edge. The trees thinned out rapidly, revealing nothing but the bluest of skies for miles and miles. The soft ground under Pete’s feet soon gave way to hard rock. Up ahead, the dizzying drop to the wooded valley below grew closer and closer, but Pete didn’t slow his pace. He simply ran as far as the terrain would allow and, with a massive leap, disappeared over the edge of the cliff.

  Less than a moment later, the dragon swooped down after him. Then Elliot rocketed skyward, with Pete on his back. The boy gripped Elliot’s thick fur in both hands, shouting loudly in exhilaration as the dragon soared through the sky. They flew up and down as though they were on a roller coaster, skimming treetops and banking in midair to fly back up toward the sun.

  Fearless, Pete let go with both hands and threw his head back, laughing all the way. They broke through the clouds and flew far above the world, where they could see everything—the clumps of treetops, the green meadows, the rushing river that looked no bigger than a creek. With one last quick twist, Elliot turned downward, plunging toward the earth.

  Down they spiraled, the surface of the world rising quickly
to greet them. Just before the great green dragon would have slammed into the ground, he pulled up sharply, angling his large body so they were gliding above the river. It was so close that Elliot’s massive paws skimmed the cold surface, sending a long spray of water to either side as they went.

  The dragon and the boy plunged into the deepest and darkest part of the massive northwestern forest. The small amount of daylight that managed to pierce the thick canopy of trees cut through the long shadows in wide beams, adding just enough light to see. Pete and Elliot moved quickly over a large ridge thick with towering pines and then down toward one tree in particular.

  It was tremendous—unlike any other tree in the forest, as ancient as it was towering. At its base, knobby roots encircled a dragon-sized cave that ran deep into the earth. And above, built into the tree’s gnarled limbs, was a tree house—exactly the type of tree house a wild eleven-year-old might build. It was ingenious and scrappy-looking, everything bound together with vines and mud. There were different levels and gnarled branch walkways and wooden ladders and vine ropes. It all culminated in a thatched crow’s nest above the uppermost branches.

  This was their home.

  Pete scrambled up the trunk using handholds and footholds gouged into the bark. He made it to the first platform and then crossed a makeshift bridge. Soon he was at the very top. Pete threw his head back and let out a howl. Elliot, at the base of the tree, pointed his large head to the sky and howled along. Their voices—both high and low, soft and loud—echoed far into the distance.

  If anyone could have seen Pete in that very moment—anyone who had known him in the time before the crash—they would never have recognized him.

  Pete himself could barely remember that other life. He only knew the forest. And the wind. And the bright blue sky that he and Elliot soared through each day.

  And Elliot. Pete knew Elliot was his family. Of that he was certain.

  One day, something different happened.

  Pete and Elliot had a plan to spend the morning exploring. There was always something new to do in the forest—a new rock to pry up and look under, or a new tree to climb. And so they wandered among the incredibly tall pine trees until soon they were somewhere they had never been before.

  Pete turned to Elliot, about to ask which way they should go. Suddenly, he heard footsteps. They were light and quiet, but to Pete they may as well have been as loud as thunder. Pete knew every sound every animal in the forest might make, and this one was different.

  Elliot instinctively vanished, and Pete ducked behind a fallen tree. A moment later, the boy’s curiosity got the better of him. Pete lifted his head to take a peek, suddenly seeing…

  He wasn’t sure at first. A…person? Walking through the forest? The boy’s jaw dropped. It was a woman! He hadn’t seen anyone but Elliot and the other forest animals for a long, long time.

  “There you are.” The woman spoke. Pete froze. He was hiding perfectly. How could she see him? Why did she seem to know him already?

  With a quick upward glance, Pete realized that he wasn’t actually the one the woman was speaking to. She was speaking to a bird, a spotted owl, in the lower branches of a nearby tree. The tree had a strange red marking on it—something Pete hadn’t noticed before.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, Pete could sense Elliot’s nervousness. The large dragon had faded to match the colors and patterns of the surrounding trees so perfectly that he might as well have been invisible.

  Pete watched as the woman brushed back a stray strand of hair from her face. Instinctively, he reached up and mimicked the motion, brushing his own hair away from his eyes.

  A woman in the forest.

  What could it mean?

  * * *

  Grace brushed the hair out of her eyes and shook her head. The marking she had found—the red X—was far from where it should have been.

  Grace pulled her compass out of her satchel. She remembered when her father had first given it to her so many years before. It had seemed like a magical artifact—one that opened to reveal a delicate star design and an arrow that swung around until it found north. It was old even when she was a child but very well taken care of. Grace had always been able to find her way with it.

  She opened it and sighed. The loggers were moving far beyond the territories allotted to them, marking and chopping down trees they weren’t supposed to. With a swift movement, she returned the compass to her satchel and placed the bag on the stump of a recently cut tree. Just as quickly, she removed another item—a can of blue spray paint. Grace painted a blue flourish over the red on the tree with the owl in it.

  “No one’s gonna cut you down now,” she said.

  Just then, she was interrupted by the sound of a branch snapping. Grace whirled, startled.

  “Ready to go, Grace?”

  That voice belonged to another ranger, John Wentworth. Grace had worked with him for the past few years. He was a man of few words. But Wentworth was excellent at his job, and Grace appreciated his help in the forest.

  “Yeah…” Grace replied. She reached for her satchel and picked it up from the stump. Giving one last look around, she followed her coworker back to the loggers’ job site.

  Grace’s jeep was parked in the middle of the newly open expanse. Sitting next to it was a backhoe: a large, bright yellow piece of digging machinery.

  Grace’s boot bumped into something. She glanced down to see a glass bottle with a smiley-face logo, now empty. Litter left over from the loggers. Grace picked it up and sighed. She looked at the backhoe, and a purposeful glint formed in her eyes.

  “Just one second,” she said to Ranger Wentworth as she approached the backhoe. After climbing inside, she reached up to the vehicle’s sun visor. Sure enough, Grace’s search was rewarded with a set of jingly keys. Bingo. She held them up to show Wentworth. Then she promptly tossed the keys into the dirt several feet away.

  Ranger Wentworth let out an audible sigh. “Oh, come on, Grace. Not again…”

  Grace shrugged. “I’m just settling a score.”

  “One for Jack, one for you, huh?” Wentworth asked.

  “Something like that,” Grace replied vaguely.

  Their task in that part of the forest complete, the two rangers jumped into the jeep and headed off. As Grace drove down the bumpy logging road, she saw more and more trees marked with the telltale red paint.

  It was going to be a long day.

  * * *

  Pete had been immediately drawn to the strange woman, especially after she’d held up the shiny disk from her bag. Bit by bit, the young boy had snuck silently up behind her. And while the woman had painted a blue marking on the tree, he had carefully removed the glimmering treasure from her satchel.

  Then the woman had been met by another person—a man—and they’d headed off together. Pete watched, fascinated, as they left. They were people. In the forest. Who knew what other treasures they had?

  Pete followed the people.

  He looked around in wonder as they passed more and more trees with the strange blue mark. It was almost as though they were tracing a specific path through the forest. Taking it all in, Pete momentarily lost sight of the two strangers. He shook his head and continued following the trail of the blue-marked trees, determined not to lose them.

  Suddenly, there was no more forest.

  Where there had once been trees remained nothing but dirt: acres of cleared land dotted with a few leftover stumps.

  “The trees ran away,” Pete whispered.

  He stood frozen in surprise at the edge of the clearing, watching the man and the woman get into a vehicle and drive away.

  Pete walked into the empty space, trying to figure out just what that part of the forest was. Why it was so different from the rest.

  Elliot appeared behind Pete. The dragon sniffed the air, and his face sagged with sadness as he looked over the empty patch of forest. So many lost friends, his eyes seemed to say. Then the dragon stepped backward, bu
mping into a big yellow vehicle. With a casual push, he knocked the massive piece of digging equipment onto its side.

  Just then, a metallic glint caught Pete’s eye. He ran ahead to pick up the discarded ring of keys. Aha! At least there was more treasure! With a gleeful smile, the boy pulled the silver disk from his pocket and compared the two shiny bits of metal. The disk was infinitely more fascinating than the keys, and Pete lingered over it. It was shiny…so shiny it almost caused Pete’s face to glow.

  Elliot bent down and sniffed the antique, then let out a massive dragon sneeze. The force of it knocked Pete off his feet.

  “Ewww!” Pete said, shaking off dragon-sneeze goop. Then the boy realized he had dropped the shiny thing. When he bent down to pick it up, the disk was open. Pete hadn’t known it could open. He stared at it, captivated.

  Painted inside the disk were drawings. Pete reached into the back of his brain to remember what they were called—letters. N, S, W, and E, surrounding what looked like a large star. An arrow rested on top of the star, shifting slightly as Pete tilted the disk. Then he saw a picture taped inside the lid: a faded snapshot of three people. A little girl. A man. And a woman…

  Pete sat down, overcome by a rush of feelings he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  A picture of a father…a daughter…and a mother.

  A family.

  It was a late night for Pete. Not that he minded. He had already been on an adventure that day. Now he was doing his second favorite thing after exploring the forest—building traps.

  Pete gathered several of the toughest vines he could find near the tree house. He carefully wove the ends together while Elliot moved some large logs to the places Pete had marked. Eventually, after tying together several of the vines and running them around a handful of trees, Pete knew his trap was ready.

  It wasn’t that Pete expected unwanted visitors. But he had been creating traps since he first started living in the forest. Simple ones in the beginning—trip wires, holes covered with pine branches, that sort of thing. But after years and years of practice, his trap-making skills had become pretty impressive. And he really liked inventing new ones.