Kumiko and the Dragon's Secret

by Briony Stewart

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Kumiko and the Dragon’s secret

  Also by Briony Stewart

  Chapter one

  Chapter two

  Chapter three

  Chapter four

  Chapter five

  Chapter six

  Chapter seven

  Chapter eight

  Copyright

  Kumiko and the Dragon’s secret

  Briony Stewart grew up in the inner-city suburbs of Perth, peeping over alleyway fences in search of great mysteries and honing her excellent tree-climbing abilities. Despite dabbling in entomology, crime solving and a desire to own a deli, Briony showed a talent for both art and writing during her school years. After graduating with a double degree in Creative Writing and Art from Curtin University, she published her first book, Kumiko and the Dragon, which won the Aurealis Award for children’s short fiction, and was a CBCA Notable Book in 2008. Briony currently lives in Perth with her husband Harry and their beloved pet rabbit Winston, writing and illustrating for children.

  Also by Briony Stewart

  Kumiko and the Dragon

  For Harry,

  May we soar through the wind and stars in the excitement of our dreams.

  With special thanks for the support from the May Gibbs Children’s Literature Trust, and the Western Australian Department of Culture and the Arts.

  Chapter one

  Once, I did not know the clouds – they were flat, far away and seldom noticed. That was when I was a normal girl, before I met Tomodo. Now I know that beyond the prickling tops of the forest, the rush of the river, high above the lonely purple mountains and swirling clouds, is an ancient kingdom. A kingdom of my ancestors, a kingdom of dragons. Most nights, when I am supposed to be sleeping, Tomodo and I race the wind and the shooting stars to the top of the clouds. Then, in the spray of moonlight we sing and dance and roar the way that dragons do, until our lungs are empty.

  But not tonight. Tonight, I creep beneath my mother’s window; I stick my hand up in the air and catch a dragon by its tail. You would probably think this an easy thing to do but it is not. This dragon is invisible. I feel it wriggle in my hand.

  ‘Stop!’ I whisper. ‘Stop moving, it’s me, Kumiko! I just want to talk to you.’ The dragon slows down but I keep hold of its tail so I know it’s there. ‘Bertolli,’ I say firmly, ‘I want you to show yourself to Mother. Stop being invisible so she sees that you’re real.’

  From the empty space I hear a murmur. ‘I cannot.’

  ‘Why not?’

  The dragon sighs sadly. ‘I ... have forgotten how.’

  ‘Forgotten?’ I say. ‘How do you forget something like that?’

  ‘I am sorry,’ he hisses, ‘so sorry. Please do not ask me again.’

  I let the dragon go, and feel my face flush with disappointment. Tomodo is watching from the tiled roof above me, casting a monstrous shadow over the garden below. His lamp-yellow eyes flicker as he lowers his scaly tail towards the ground. He said this is how it would be.

  Sometimes I’m tempted to show Tomodo to Mother – one look and she’d want to fold up like a paper crane and fly away! But that’s the problem; she’d never see that he’s safe. She would only see his sharp teeth, giant jaws, his rows of claws like fishhooks. She would lock my window and tell me never to open it again.

  ‘Oh, Tomodo!’ I say as he pulls me back onto the roof. ‘I just want Mother to understand! She says I should grow up and stop talking about dragons. She says “Stop stomping, Kumiko! Keep your tongue in your mouth, Kumiko. Why is your hair so messy? Why are your clothes so crinkled?” Today I told her, “I was riding a dragon and it was windy,” which was true, but she sent me to my room!’

  Tomodo curls his tail around my shoulders. ‘You know a truth your mother does not; this is a difficult thing. But I am certain one day she will understand.’

  ‘One day? Why not tonight!’ I grizzle. ‘That Bertolli, I don’t know why he’s a guardian dragon at all. Even the moths and the crickets can’t see him to be afraid!’

  Tomodo gives me a look I know I deserve. I’m acting like my younger sister, who throws awful tantrums.

  ‘I think you should get some rest,’ he suggests gently.

  ‘Fine,’ I reply, still half cross. I climb back into my bedroom through the window and sink into my bed. I know that I am much too old for bedtime stories, but I ask for one anyway. Tomodo’s tales aren’t for babies. They’re about the old days when dragons used to battle with humans, when magic used to fill every cloud, every stream. They are about how my ancestor was a dragon prince who married a human girl, and how my family carries the royal bloodline of dragons and the magic that keeps them all alive.

  ‘Tomodo?’ I ask with my eyes closed. ‘What do you do during the daytime?’

  He considers this for a moment. ‘During the day I sleep.’

  ‘But you’re supposed to be my guardian. What if I go exploring and I fall off a cliff?’

  ‘I would be there before you hit the ground,’ he chuckles.

  ‘Really? How would you know to come?’

  ‘When I sleep,’ he says, ‘I dream of you. I see where you are and if you are safe.’

  ‘But why don’t you sleep at night?’ I ask, with a yawn. ‘I certainly won’t climb cliffs while I’m sleeping, so you don’t have to worry. You can sleep then too, can’t you?’

  Tomodo stays quiet. I wait for his answer, but the sound of his deep, smoky breathing makes me tired. I start to forget what I am waiting for ... an answer? It probably isn’t important, I think to myself as I slip into the dark folds of sleep.

  Chapter two

  When I wake in the morning, Tomodo has disappeared. There is nothing outside but the hills, which lie like layers of torn paper across the horizon. Usually, I don’t miss him when he’s gone but he seemed to be avoiding me. There was definitely something he wasn’t saying. I am trying to remember what it was when the drumming sound of small feet rises up the wooden stairs.

  ‘Wake up, Kumiko! Wake up!’

  I stand and scowl at my sister. ‘Arisu, I’m awake already.’

  She begins to touch the things in my room like it’s a game. ‘Wake up, wake up, here is the sun...’ she starts to sing, and skips about. ‘Wake up, wake up, day has begun...’

  I try to catch her but she’s too quick. ‘Go away!’ I growl at her.

  ‘Wait!’ she yells as I come to grab her again. ‘I made you a present!’

  She pulls a folded piece of paper out of the worst place, her underwear. I don’t want her present at all, but when I see scribbles on a familiar page I snatch it off her. It’s a page torn out of one of my school books! Arisu is already running down the stairs. I storm after her, but bump into Mother and her basket of washing instead.

  ‘Look!’

  ‘What is it?’ She frowns.

  ‘It’s the front page of my school book! Arisu has ruined it, on purpose!’

  ‘Now, now,’ Mother says. ‘She has done something wrong, but I don’t think she meant to. At least it’s only the first page and not one of the important pages.’

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Why doesn’t Mother ever take my side?

  ‘I’ll have a word to her once I’ve finished this, Kumiko. How about you have some breakfast?’

  I sit at the table and take a steaming bowl of rice. Arisu pokes her head warily around the door. ‘I already told Mother, and you’re going to be in trouble later,’ I tell her.r />
  She pokes her tongue out at me and I try to ignore her as she sits at the table and slurps at a bowl of soup. Mother often says, ‘You are lucky to have a sister, I always wanted one.’ This usually makes me angrier. Arisu is three; we have nothing in common. She just spoils things like my crayons, my most beautiful feather and my favourite hina-doll, which was old and special. I tell her I’ll get Tomodo to eat her, but she just laughs at me. Arisu is not afraid of dragons. Before she could walk she could fly, and before she could talk she could roar. Her guardian dragon, Ottowan, smiled with jaws like a shark and she would just giggle and clap her hands.

  I was eight when I found out about dragons – I saw Tomodo and hid under the covers of my bed. I’m not afraid now, but Arisu, she never was.

  When Mother returns to the kitchen she says, ‘Now that you’ve finished breakfast, Kumiko, I wonder if you could take a package to your grandmother?’

  I’m about to complain when Arisu jumps up. ‘Ooh!’ she chirps. ‘Can I go see Obasaan too?’

  Mother looks at me, but I shake my head. She replies, ‘No, Arisu, you will stay here with me. Kumiko is mad at you for taking a page from her book. You should have asked her.’ Tears fill Arisu’s eyes; a tantrum is about to start. I grab the package smugly and when Mother’s back is turned I stick my tongue out at Arisu. As I hoped, she’s wailing like a kettle by the time I reach the front gate.

  I skip down the lane, past the old stone walls and bright autumn leaves. The sun is out but the air is cold. It blows gently over a stream full of koi fish, the wooden bridge and Mr Tanaka’s decorative cabbages. When I pass the twisted plum trees at the corner of Obasaan’s house, I can hear her cackling away in her garden. Her neighbours think that she talks to herself, that she’s crazy. But I know better. Like my mother, my sister and I, she has a guardian dragon. His name is Farelli. He’s a funny little thing: long, white and covered in fur like a stretched-out Pekingese dog. I couldn’t tell him this though, because he is easily offended. He once turned himself invisible for fifty years because Obasaan told him to ‘shoo’. Whenever Mother is around, he hides in a cherry tree or his favourite spot between Obasaan’s chimneys. I have asked him many times to come out so Mother can see him but he pretends not to hear me.

  I sit in an old cane chair as Farelli swims like smoke above my head. Obasaan pours us tea. ‘How are you today, Kumiko-san?’ she asks.

  I sigh. ‘All right, I suppose.’

  ‘You only suppose? You do not know? That must be awful. Here, have some tea.’

  We sit and talk as the tea-leaves unfurl in our cups. Obasaan tells me about flying to Okinawa with Farelli to eat tropical fruit. Before I can ask how a tiny little dragon could carry a person all the way to Okinawa, our attention is drawn to the sky. The clouds above have begun to twist and roll like an angry sea. Like the fast fading light of a candle the sky becomes darker and darker until it is almost as black as the night. Obasaan croaks something about rain, but stops. The wind blows across our faces, the shadows around us stretch and grow. When thunder crashes over the forest, I shiver like the autumn leaves and clutch onto my obasaan’s wrinkled hand. There is something in the air, something bigger than a storm. Suddenly, I feel Obasaan drop my hand. I hear a squeak and look around, but she has disappeared. In her place there is a grey mouse, which Farelli swoops down and collects in his claws. He looks at me for a moment then takes off into the sky like a flapping bundle of white ribbons. The wind roars. The trees bend.

  ‘Wait! Where are you going?’ I scream. But my words are snatched by the wind. Obasaan’s bonsais are thrown off the table and smash against the ground. I stumble down the garden path with my hair blowing wildly over my face. ‘Don’t leave me here! Obasaan, where are you?’

  I cover my eyes with my hands as leaves and sticks fly at me. What’s happening? Somewhere in the bluster of the storm, between my fingers I see a flicker of movement. A large creature, wings as wide as a house, a slash of swooping claws. I start to run away but then I make out what it is ... Tomodo rushes down to me and I leap onto him as quickly as I can. Without giving me time to get a proper grip he pounces straight back into the air and flies upwards at an aching speed. It is not normal flying – it is urgent, and terrifying. I feel as though I mightn’t be able to hold on. I want to yell, ‘Stop! Slow down!’ but all I can do is clamp my teeth as the dark clouds move towards us. I squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them I find that we are far above the wind and darkness. There is blue sky and thin autumn sunshine. But I am not relieved, something is wrong. We never fly during the day. We never fly so fast. What was that sudden change in the weather?

  Before long I make out a familiar sight: the vast cloudy empire of the dragon kingdom. As we approach, several large dragons join us, but none of them say hello, show off or smile at me. They fly stone-faced as emperor’s guards beside Tomodo – one ahead, one behind, two on either side. We don’t land in the stirring white fields of the city; we pass by the ivory caves and the misty streets, until we reach the royal temple. Tomodo lands and I slide dizzily off his back. In the temple are more dragons than I have ever seen all at once, heads bobbing, feet shuffling and their hundreds of tails swishing anxiously about the air. Farelli is by the main entrance holding the terrified mouse in his paw. I rush over to them, ‘Obasaan! Is that you? Oh, Obasaan, don’t be frightened.’

  I go to touch the mouse but my stomach twists as my eyes fall upon something else ... Floating beside them as though in an enchanted sleep is someone who I never thought I would see in the dragon palace.

  My mother.

  Chapter three

  Like a wild bird in a cage, my heart flaps fearfully as I look from Tomodo, to Mother, to Farelli. At the front of the temple the oldest dragon in the kingdom, Rahzoo, stands gravely. He speaks in a tone as ancient as shifting sands. ‘Guardians Farelli, Bertolli and Tomodo, you have brought the family here safely. This is a great relief in such circumstances.’

  Tomodo looks from side to side. ‘What has happened? Where is Otto-wan?’

  With a murmur, several dragons move aside to reveal something awful. Tomodo gives a low rumbling snarl. Lying at the feet of the dragons is Ottowan. But it is not the dragon I know, the strong blue dragon with jaws like a shark and a round smiling face. I don’t want to believe that this thing in front of us is Arisu’s guardian dragon. I race over and press my hand against him. He is cold, and drained. His whiskers lie limp and tangled, and his great soft tongue hangs out of his mouth.

  ‘Oh, Otto-wan what has happened to you?’ I whisper.

  Tomodo asks, ‘Is he alive?’ and Rahzoo nods his silvery head.

  ‘What about the girl?’

  I look up, my skin prickling. How hadn’t I noticed? Sobs and sighs tumble from every dragon around the temple as Rahzoo breathes the word: ‘Taken.’

  ‘What do you mean taken?’ I say. The dragons are silent. I turn to Tomodo. ‘What do they mean?’

  ‘Come,’ he says softly and offers me the end of his tail. Outside the temple we find an empty cloud like an old silk cocoon and climb inside where it is quiet.

  ‘What could possibly be so bad that I would need a dragon to guard me?’

  Tomodo sighs. ‘You asked this question once. Do you remember? The first night you ever spoke to me? Perhaps I should have told you then, but you were so frightened of dragons, so afraid of everything. I thought that if I could keep you safe enough I might never have to tell you. Last night you asked me why I guard you in the evening; even then I could not bring myself to say. But now, here is the truth, here is the reason I have watched over you every night since you were born...

  ‘Thousands of years ago there used to be many magical things in this world – creatures, places, people – not just dragons. No one knows when it began, but some of these things started to disappear. It happened so slowly, like the fading sun, that it wasn’t until darkness had settled that we realis
ed it was there. It was a group of humans, sorcerers, who call themselves the Shadow Catchers. They train like ninjas in discipline and stealth, but also in sorcery. They search by moonlight for magical creatures and if they find one they will pin its shadow to the ground so it cannot move. Then, they will suck out its powers through the shadow and keep them for themselves. Our friend Otto-wan is lucky.’

  ‘You mean that’s what happened to him?’ I gasp.

  ‘Yes.’ Tomodo nods. ‘And if they had finished he would have disappeared.’

  ‘He could have died?’ I say in a tiny breath.

  ‘No,’ Tomodo says, ‘ disappeared. A far greater mystery than death. His body would become less than air, his voice less than sound. His name would vanish from our tongues as though he had never existed. Like the magical creatures in your folklore and fairytales whose true names and memories are lost, who seem more like stories than anything that was ever real. Otto-wan would fade away and wouldn’t even be missed!’

  The cold feeling in my stomach spreads its way through me. It draws my knees right up to my nose. I always imagined that dying would be the worst thing that could happen to anyone, but I was wrong. Being forgotten would be far worse.

  ‘That’s why you guard me at night,’ I say.

  ‘I guard you always,’ Tomodo replies, ‘but yes. I stay close when the sun goes down. When Otto-wan sensed your sister was in trouble this morning, it was not long before we all felt the same danger. We came to get you as soon as we could. But,’ Tomodo says sadly, ‘we were too late. Your family has been discovered by the Shadow Catchers.’

  Everything inside me stands still, my breath, my heart, my voice. I want to ask why but no sound comes out. Tomodo hears my thoughts.