Pete's Dragon Junior Novel

by Disney Book Group

  Much later that night, Grace pushed her way through the piles of papers on her father’s desk. She was searching for something very important.

  Mr. Meacham’s workstation was cluttered with old newspaper clippings and photos of strange animal footprints. With one hand Grace moved the lamp, the light drifting over a map covered in red pins that supposedly signified dragon sightings.

  “Can I help you find something?”

  Grace jumped at the sound of her father’s voice.

  “Sorry,” she said, rubbing her temples. “I thought you were asleep.”

  “Nah,” he answered. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Well…” She wondered how she could broach the subject with her father. It was probably best just to come right out with it. “Did you hear about Pete? That boy we found in the woods?”

  “Oh, sure,” her father replied. “The whole town’s been buzzing about him.”

  Grace held out the drawing Pete had made—the drawing of Elliot. “He drew this.”

  Mr. Meacham looked at the picture. His face paled.

  “Pete says this is his friend,” Grace continued. “From the forest. And it reminded me of—”

  “Oh,” her father said, nodding, “I know what it reminded you of.”

  Mr. Meacham reached under a pile of papers and tugged out one particular sheet, revealing an old, yellowed drawing—one of a dragon that looked remarkably similar to Pete’s.

  “This one,” Mr. Meacham finished, handing the drawing to his daughter.

  “How old was I?” Grace asked. “When you drew this for me?”

  Her father shrugged. “Five? Six? It was before your mother passed away, I know that much.”

  “But…” she whispered. “But it was always just a story.”

  Mr. Meacham shook his head. “It was never just a story.”

  “But none of it was real!” Grace insisted. “You change it every time you tell it! And your scars—those are from a bear trap you fell into when you were ten. Mom told me!”

  “I may have embellished a few things here and there,” Mr. Meacham said. “But tales, they’re always better when they’re tall. It was a long time ago, and everyone thinks I’m crazy. Lord knows there have been days where I wonder if they’re right. But then I think about the magic. Maybe I’ll never see that dragon again, but just knowing it’s out there…”

  Mr. Meacham flipped through the stack of pages on his desk.

  “Well, it helps me see everything differently. The trees. The sunshine. Even you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.”

  Grace felt her throat tighten as her father continued.

  “I’m not going to try to convince you to believe me,” he said. “I quit that. But maybe you should be open to looking.”

  Grace shook her head. “I know those woods like the back of my hand. I couldn’t have missed a dragon.”

  Mr. Meacham focused on his daughter, his eyes seeming to see right through her.

  “You missed Pete.”

  Pete was sound asleep.

  A hand brushed across his forehead, pushing back his long hair. With some effort, he opened his eyes.

  Grace was kneeling by his bedside. “Good morning…” she said with a warm smile.

  Pete returned her smile. He felt happy. He had new friends. And best of all, he was going to get to share those new friends with Elliot!

  Once Pete was up, Jack helped him put on some new clothes. Soon Pete was chasing Natalie down the stairs and out the front door. The excitement he felt was almost overwhelming.

  Pete, Natalie, and Grace climbed into the jeep. Jack reached in through the window and tousled Pete’s hair.

  “All right, Pete. You take care, okay? Be well.”

  Pete grinned in response. He was going home to Elliot. How could he not be well? He would be the best!

  Jack made his way to the driver’s side and talked quietly with Grace.

  “I’ve gotta run up to the mill and see Gavin,” Jack said. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

  Grace waved away his concern. “We’ll be fine!” she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

  Grace looked back at Pete in the rearview mirror, gave him an encouraging grin, and then they were off.

  * * *

  But Grace didn’t feel nearly as happy as she appeared.

  Nothing about what she was supposed to do felt right. Taking Pete to Child Protective Services…lying to him when he trusted her…

  And then there was the matter of the dragon. Her father’s dragon.

  Grace thought back to the years of her father telling her the stories of the forest—stories that had inspired her to become the person she was.

  She slowly approached the sheriff’s station. There was a car parked out front with a CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES logo on it.

  Grace felt her stomach lurch. There really was only one choice she could make.

  She kept on driving past the station, making the turn toward her father’s house.

  “Pete…” Grace said. “There’s someone I want to come with us—someone who knows the woods better than I do.”

  A quiet day was progressing at the mill. It was the weekend, and only a handful of workers were on-site. That didn’t mean there wasn’t a lot to do. The warehouse was open and empty, waiting on a load of wood from up north. The yard was filled with trucks and cars, several of which should have been out in the forest with work crews. Gavin was supposed to be overseeing everything—but he wasn’t there. Jack stopped one of the mill workers. “Have you seen Gavin?” he asked.

  The worker shrugged. “He and Woodrow got some of the guys together and took a truck out to the new cutdown.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows. “What for?”

  “He said they were going to do some hunting,” the worker replied.

  Jack suddenly had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  He hurried into his office to call his brother. He found a note on the desk. In his brother’s scribbled handwriting, it read, Gonna do something right for once.

  Just then, the telephone rang.

  “Hello?” Jack answered.

  “Hey, Jack.” It was the sheriff. “Didn’t you say Grace was planning on bringing Pete by today?”

  “Yeah…” Jack said, his sense of unease growing. “She left an hour ago.”

  “Well, she hasn’t shown up yet, and Carl at the ranger station said he saw her jeep heading out to the woods…” the sheriff replied.

  Jack began to put the pieces together. He hung up the phone and ran out of his office as fast as he could.

  Pete leaped out of the jeep and bounded into the forest.

  “This way!” the boy yelled excitedly.

  Natalie ran after him as Grace and her father climbed out of the vehicle.

  “Kids!” Grace yelled. “Hold on a second….”

  Natalie stopped, but Pete was already out of sight. He had even kicked off his shoes and left them on the grass.

  Grace, Natalie, and Mr. Meacham hurried after the boy. After a few minutes, they stopped, looking around.

  “I’ve never seen this part of the forest before,” Grace said in a surprised voice.

  Her father, however, gazed around in wonder. It was clear he had.

  Suddenly, Pete reappeared from out of the thick brush.

  “Come on!” he yelled. “This way!”

  Grace, Natalie, and Mr. Meacham followed Pete as best they could, but it was difficult for anyone unfamiliar with the path. Pete led them through the bushes and under branches and around large rocks, until eventually…

  They stood in front of Pete’s sanctuary—his tree house.

  Natalie gaped in awe. “You did this all yourself?” she asked.

  Pete shook his head. “Elliot helped. I think he’s hiding.”

  Softly, the boy called into the cave at the base of the tree house. “Elliot? You in there? Come on out!”

  For a long moment there was no re
sponse. Grace and Natalie exchanged glances. But Mr. Meacham just waited, watching intently.

  Then…a deep shuddering whimper echoed from within the dark cave. A chill ran down Grace’s spine. Whatever that noise was, she had felt it deep in her bones.

  Pete looked worried. “I’ll go get him,” the boy said.

  Grace hesitated, uncertain, but then she stepped forward. “Pete, wait…” she called. But the boy had already disappeared into the depths of the cave.

  So they waited.

  Grace was growing more nervous. “I’m going in after him,” she whispered. But her father reached out to hold her back.

  “Just wait. Give him a second,” he said.

  And then there was a heaving rumble, like a boulder being moved. Pete reappeared. Natalie started to say something, but Pete shook his head and held a finger to his mouth.

  “Shhh…” he said.

  From the darkness behind Pete, Elliot emerged—completely visible to all.

  Natalie’s jaw dropped. So did Grace’s. Her whole world had suddenly changed. Everything she had ever heard from her father—every story, every tall tale, all the things she had so long before dismissed as fiction—suddenly became real.

  “Dad?” she asked, taking a step back.

  Mr. Meacham beamed.

  “It’s okay, Grace,” he said softly, keeping his eyes on the large furry dragon. “Just as magnificent as I remember.”

  “You always said it was dangerous,” Grace whispered.

  In response, Elliot stretched up to his full height, giving them a friendly growl. Natalie stepped forward.

  “Elliot?” she said.

  Elliot purred more deeply. Natalie held up a shaking hand and ran it through Elliot’s soft green fur. For a moment, it seemed like the dragon might sneeze. Then he blinked and snuggled his large face against the young girl.

  Grace burst out laughing. Mr. Meacham joined in.

  Pete smiled widely. Everything was going perfectly.

  And that’s when the gunshot echoed through the forest.

  Everything turned to chaos.

  At the sound of the blast, Elliot instantly drew backward, stung. A dart was protruding from his shoulder. The dragon dropped to all fours and bared his teeth like an angry lion. He stood in front of Pete, his wings flaring out protectively.

  Gavin slid down the ridge with his hunting rifle in his hands. Behind him were several other loggers, all equally armed.

  “Gavin, wait!” Mr. Meacham cried. But his voice was drowned out by Elliot, who bellowed a mighty roar so loud that the trees shook and several of the loggers stumbled to the ground.

  Instinctively, Grace pushed Natalie behind her and reached for Pete. Not understanding Grace’s actions, Elliot responded with a protective lunge, guarding Pete in turn. Then the dragon turned and roared at two of the loggers.

  Both men fired their dart guns at the dragon. A silver dart whizzed through the air and struck, tearing a small hole in the membrane of Elliot’s wing. The dragon roared in pain and reared up on his hind legs. Another dart struck in the middle of Elliot’s chest.

  Pete was beside himself. He screamed at the loggers to stop hurting his friend. But they weren’t listening. Instead, they whipped a lasso around the dragon’s neck.

  Crack! Another shot from Gavin’s rifle rang out. Elliot dodged the dart and, in doing so, yanked the lasso out of the logger’s hands. The rope snagged on a tree branch, tearing the limb down. It barely missed Mr. Meacham as it fell.

  “Hit him with all you got!” yelled one of the loggers.

  Elliot flailed helplessly as the loggers continued to tie him up. Pete grabbed a stick and ran at the hunters. But Mr. Meacham caught Pete by the shoulders and held him back.

  “Let me go! Let me go!” Pete cried, hysterical.

  Another hunter grabbed one of the loose ropes that bound the dragon. But he failed to notice the trip wire from the trap that Pete had created a few days earlier. The trap’s big log swung down and slammed into the hunter, sending him and his gun flying.

  Pete realized this was Elliot’s only chance.

  “Fly, Elliot! Fly!” Pete yelled.

  Elliot understood. He beat his wings and rose into the air. For a moment, it looked like it was going to work! The loggers lost hold of the ropes. Elliot soared higher. He was going to make it!

  And then, all at once, the tranquilizers kicked in. Elliot grew woozy. His fur rippled, changing colors sporadically. His wings beat slower, and his eyelids drooped. With a tremendous groan, the dragon plummeted out of the sky, crashing into the tree house. Along with the dragon, the mighty structure collapsed to the ground.

  “ELLIOT!” Pete cried. He finally broke free of Mr. Meacham’s hold and ran to the collapsed dragon. Elliot was still breathing, but his eyes were closed.

  Natalie was sobbing. Grace took a step toward Pete, but the boy could not be comforted. Not by her. He glared up at Grace, his eyes accusing her of betrayal. And then the little boy howled, burying his face in Elliot’s fur.

  Pete could hear Elliot’s heartbeat deep within the dragon’s chest, strong at first but growing fainter and fainter. He has to be okay, he has to be okay…. The thought repeated in Pete’s mind over and over.

  Just then, Jack screeched up in his jeep. He looked on at the chaos: loggers scrambling; Natalie in tears; Grace and her father pale; and Pete sobbing, his face buried in the green fur of an impossible creature…a dragon.

  Jack was at a loss for words.

  “Gavin?” he asked, turning to his brother.

  Everyone looked up, noticing Jack for the first time.

  “Daddy?” Natalie said.

  “What is this?” Jack asked in disbelief.

  “This?” Gavin said triumphantly. “This is the Millhaven Dragon, and I caught it!”

  The forest was quiet. Unusually so.

  Pete sat in a corner of Jack’s office on the second story of the mill building. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders. Natalie was sitting in a chair next to him, looking straight ahead.

  On the other side of a glass partition, Jack paced, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder. The glass was thick enough that the children could only hear Jack speaking in low, urgent tones—but they couldn’t make out what he was saying. After several moments and a few phone calls, he hung up the phone and stepped into his main office, taking in Pete’s stony expression.

  “Natalie, can you sit tight with Pete for a minute?” he asked.

  “What’s going to happen to Elliot?” Natalie asked in reply.

  “I don’t know, sweetheart.” Jack sighed, patting her head. “I’m going to find out. Stay right here, okay?”

  Natalie nodded. But before he left, Jack looked sincerely at Pete. “Pete, we’ll fix this. I promise,” he said. Then he left Natalie and Pete alone in the office.

  “Grace didn’t mean for this to happen,” Natalie whispered to Pete.

  Pete turned away, looking out the window and across the mill yard to a large lumber warehouse. It had huge wooden double doors and a large skylight on the roof. Gavin and his friends stood outside the doorway to the warehouse, keeping guard. Elliot was in there, strapped with chains to a giant truck bed, unconscious.

  Pete was heartbroken. How could he have let his friend down?

  * * *

  Inside the warehouse, Grace and her father stood next to the truck that held the sleeping dragon. Neither of them felt comfortable leaving Elliot alone with Gavin or the other loggers.

  “How could I have never seen this until now? I feel like I’m dreaming,” Grace said mournfully.

  “I know the feeling,” Mr. Meacham said, with a sad look in his eyes.

  They stared at the massive beast. Elliot’s fur looked very pale—sickly, like dried grass.

  Gavin walked up behind them, whistling. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? Or he. Or whatever it is.” The logger glanced at Mr. Meacham. “Everyone thought you were crazy all these years, but not me. No, sir!
I always believed you!”

  Mr. Meacham just shook his head. “To be honest, I kinda wish you hadn’t believed me.”

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? You’re lucky we got there when we did. He’d have eaten every last one of you!”

  “He wasn’t going to hurt anyone,” Mr. Meacham responded. “And besides, now that you’ve got him, what exactly do you plan to do with him?”

  Gavin suddenly looked uncertain.

  “You don’t know, do you?” Mr. Meacham pressed.

  “I’ve got some ideas,” Gavin snapped. “This dragon’s gonna put me on the map, I can tell you that much. Folks will line up for miles to see this thing.”

  Elliot shuddered. His eye opened slightly—just enough to see Grace, and for Grace to see her own reflection in the glassy surface of Elliot’s dark pupil.

  Suddenly, Elliot was awake. He strained against his chains.

  Two of the loggers whipped up their tranquilizer guns. Grace yelled at them, waving them down. “Wait! Wait,” she said.

  It hadn’t mattered. Elliot was too weak to break the chains. He opened his mouth and let out a long, grievous moan—a deep earthly bellow full of pain and sadness. It was enough to shake the whole warehouse.

  “Something’s wrong,” Grace said, worried. “I think the tranquilizer darts have made him sick.”

  “He’s just sleepy,” Gavin said with an unconcerned shrug. “We pumped him full of enough juice to keep him out for days.”

  “No, really. There’s something wrong!” Grace insisted. “Just look at him. He needs help. He needs Pete.”

  At the sound of his friend’s name, Elliot let out another low moan. In response, Grace reached out and gently stroked the large dragon’s paw—a comforting touch. And just like when she’d comforted Pete in the alley, Grace’s touch seemed to calm the dragon. The color of his fur began to shift where she’d touched him, matching Grace’s skin tone. Then it turned back to green. Grace couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She stared at the dragon in amazement.

  Elliot raised his head and howled once more.