Dragon's Green

by Scarlett Thomas

  ‘So the spectacles didn’t show you that Dragon’s Green was under the floorboards at all? You knew that from this letter? You read it, rather than just give it to me? How could you?’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ Maximilian’s eyes filled with tears, but he tried to blink them away. ‘Once I’d lied the first time, I didn’t know how to stop. I thought you’d hate me when I told you the truth. And now I have told you, you probably hate me anyway. But I thought it was important that you knew the whole truth.’ Maximilian bit his lip. ‘I really am sorry,’ he said.

  Effie didn’t respond. They had to get to class. And she’d have to call Pelham Longfellow, of course, and . . . They were now very late as well. She walked away.

  ‘Effie?’ said Maximilian, following her. ‘Please?’

  But there was no time to say anything else, because they’d arrived at their classroom. And there, staring at them through the glass section of the door, was Mrs Beathag Hide, her thin face drawn into the expression of someone who has just eaten fifteen lemons for breakfast and then read something distasteful in the newspaper.

  Effie opened the door, wincing as it creaked.

  ‘Euphemia Truelove. Well, well, how KIND of you to grace us with your presence for the second day in a row,’ said Mrs Beathag Hide. ‘And your tragic little friend, too. Well, the good news is that you can both have detention again today. Four o’clock. Same location as yesterday. Mr Reed has already agreed to join us. We will pick up where we left off, but with the added delights of the company of Miss Wilde and Miss Bottle, both of whom seem unable to stay awake this morning.’

  It was true. Lexy and Raven had both fallen asleep with their unkempt hair all over their desks. At least Raven didn’t have the spiders in her hair any more. They had agreed to spend their days in her garden, as long as they could sleep in her hair at night. They were nocturnal, but still on Chilean time, so everything had worked out all right.

  Maximilian sighed and made for his desk. Effie started to walk towards hers.

  ‘Oh, but you’re not going anywhere,’ said Mrs Beathag Hide, pointing at Effie with the wooden stick she always used to point at things on the blackboard, the thing that Effie suddenly realised looked very like a . . . like a . . .

  ‘Headmaster’s office,’ said Mrs Beathag Hide. ‘NOW.’

  36

  Effie walked to the headmaster’s office feeling miserable. Yesterday had ended in such an exciting way. But after she had killed Leonard Levar, she had felt curiously empty. Yes, she had avenged her grandfather’s death, but she hadn’t rescued his books. She had the key to Leonard Levar’s storeroom, but nowhere to put the books when she got them out. And what if Leonard Levar really had known something about her mother . . .? But he must have been lying. Even if he hadn’t been, Effie would have had to do whatever he wanted in return for whatever information he claimed to have.

  And what had Skylurian Midzhar meant about her almost being one of them? It was just like what Rollo had said in the garden, and what Leonard Levar had said in the market. Why was it wrong for the Diberi to use and destroy books for their power, but OK for Effie to do it? Of course, if it hadn’t been for Maximilian, everything would have been much worse. As it was, she hadn’t had to destroy the book herself at all, which had removed some of the cold taint of the Diberi that had been clinging to her like a wet mist ever since she had faced Levar in the market.

  Maximilian, who was supposed to be her friend.

  And he had acted like a true friend, hadn’t he? More or less. Well, except for when he stole her letter and the codicil. Of course, this had actually turned out to be useful. But that wasn’t how he’d meant it. He’d just wanted magical knowledge and hadn’t cared who he had to hurt to get it.

  Then again, if he hadn’t taken the letter, Effie’s father would have destroyed it and perhaps she never would have found Dragon’s Green. But why had he read the letter? That was the thing she couldn’t bear. Although he’d used what he’d learned to help her. Well, sort of. Oh! It was all so confusing.

  Dearest Euphemia,

  I did not mean to leave you so soon. I cannot write much. Find Truelove House. It is in a place very far away. If I don’t come back for you immediately, you can get there yourself through the book, Dragon’s Green, which is hidden under the desk. ONLY use this book if I do not come back for you, and if no one else comes for you from the Otherworld. Wait for at least a week. Your cousins will be waiting for you, and they will explain everything. Sadly, I cannot help you with the plot of the book. Nor can I tell you what must be done afterwards. Your cousins will tell you. Make sure this final task is done. Also, there is someone who wants my books. Save them from him, if you can. They are meant for you. But he is the one who tried to kill me, so be very careful.

  Your destiny lies in Dragon’s Green.

  Goodbye, dearest child.

  Your loving grandfather,

  Griffin Truelove

  When Effie reached the headmaster’s office, she was surprised to hear laughter coming from inside the room. And a voice she was sure she recognised.

  ‘Greetings and blessings,’ said Pelham Longfellow, when Effie entered the wood-panelled room. ‘Well, it’s good to see that you attend the most appropriate school in the area. I hear you even passed the magical part of the entrance exam.’

  The Tusitala School for the Gifted, Troubled and Strange had a number of places for gifted children and a number of places for troubled children. No one officially knew which children were which, although most people assumed, often incorrectly, that the ones with bruises and footballs were the troubled ones, and the ones with glasses and cellos were the gifted ones.

  The magical places, for the ‘strange’, were only a rumour – mainly because magic didn’t officially exist – but the school did have a very odd sixth form run by a man called Quinn, who made all his pupils wear silk robes, so anything was possible. Some parents, worried that their children might not be clever enough to qualify for a gifted place, encouraged them to pretend to be extremely troubled instead. Who knew what the parents would have done had they believed in the places for the strange.

  The elderly headmaster nodded at Effie. ‘It’s time for my morning coffee,’ he said. ‘I’ll take it in the staff room for a change. I believe this young solicitor has something important to discuss with you.’

  The headmaster left, and closed the door behind him.

  ‘You have found the copy of the codicil, I believe?’ said Longfellow.

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘You called me. It will have happened automatically once you got the codicil. And I can smell it. A good lawyer can always smell a codicil. Well, better let me have a look at it.’

  Effie got out the piece of paper Maximilian had given her and handed it to Pelham Longfellow.

  ‘It’s a copy,’ she said. ‘The original . . .’

  ‘Yes, yes, I know,’ said Longfellow, taking out a magnifying glass. ‘That’s fine. Right, let’s have a look. Oh, I see. Quite straightforward. It simply says that if anything were to happen to your grandfather in this world before you come of age that you should be given access to Truelove House at Dragon’s Green – although you’ve done that yourself already – and that each year you should be tested to see if you qualify for your ultimate boon and your special mainland role as a Keeper of the Great Library. Interesting. Right. Well, we’ll do the test now.’

  ‘A test?’

  ‘That’s right. OK.’ Pelham Longfellow pulled a file from his briefcase. Inside the file were several sheets of yellow lined paper and one large piece of white parchment. ‘The first question . . . You might want to sit down. There are several questions.’

  Effie sat down. A test? She needed a few hours’ sleep, not a test! But she found she was also shivering with excitement. Her ultimate boon? And becoming a Keeper of the Great Library? Even though she didn’t completely understand what these things were, she felt she had never wanted anything as much in he
r life as she now wanted to pass this test.

  ‘Right. Ready? First question. What’s a dragon’s favourite food?’

  ‘That’s easy. Princess.’

  ‘Good. Next question. Oh. This is harder. What do goblins sell?’

  ‘Fruit.’

  ‘OK, we won’t worry about how you know that, given that you were not supposed to go into the Otherworld by yourself. I wonder what was in Griffin’s mind when he set these particular questions. Hmm. Anyway. What is a “wonde”?’

  ‘It’s a magical stick used by true witches.’

  ‘Correct! Ah.’ Longfellow’s brow furrowed. ‘Here’s a trickier one. How much lifeforce can you buy with three pieces of dragon’s gold? Oh, Griffin. These are too hard! Any idea? I can always come back next year if you . . .’

  ‘In M-currency, it’s six hundred,’ said Effie. ‘Although I get the impression these numbers don’t mean as much on the mainland.’

  ‘Good grief. Yes! Correct! Now . . . Translate the following Rosian phrase into English . . .’

  And so the questions went on. Before Effie knew it, she had answered twenty more questions about all kinds of aspects of the Otherworld.

  ‘Last question,’ said Longfellow, eventually. ‘Oh dear.’ He coughed. ‘Right. You are to imagine a Realworld room with three lightbulbs in it. Outside the room are three electric switches. You may only enter the room once, and you may only have one switch on when you enter the room. How can you work out which switch operates which light?’ Longfellow scratched his head. ‘Good heavens, Griffin,’ he said. ‘This is impossible. This is . . . Oh dear.’

  ‘It’s all right. I know the answer,’ said Effie, after a long pause.

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. I think I do.’ Effie remembered her grandfather’s last words to her. The answer is heat. She’d thought about this a lot since he’d said it, and although it had puzzled her a great deal, it suddenly made sense. Her grandfather was giving her a clue to help her pass this test as soon as possible so that she could take her rightful place in the family as a Keeper of the Great Library.

  Effie thought for a moment longer and then gave her answer.

  ‘I would turn on the first switch for a few minutes and then turn it off again. This would make one of the lightbulbs very hot. I would then put the second switch on and enter the room. The hot lightbulb belongs to the first switch, the one that’s on belongs to the second, and the one that’s off but cold belongs to the third.’

  Pelham Longfellow clapped. ‘Bravo,’ he said. ‘You’ve passed.’

  ‘I have?’

  ‘You have. Next time you’re on the mainland, we’ll go to the post office for your Keeper’s mark. But in the meantime, here is your ultimate boon.’

  Longfellow reached into his bag and took out a tiny silver box, which he gave to Effie.

  ‘Be careful,’ he said. ‘When you touch the actual . . .’

  Effie opened the box carefully. Inside was a very pale gold chain that looked, like so many magical things, polished and shiny but also very, very old. On the chain was a miniature sword with a wide, sharp blade. Effie took out the necklace and held it in front of her. The little sword flashed in the weak autumn sunlight. Pelham Longfellow got up and walked over to help Effie put it on. Once it was around her neck she touched the little golden sword and . . . Nothing happened. Effie looked at Longfellow.

  ‘You need a magic word,’ he said. ‘It can be anything you like. Choose carefully and say it now as you are touching the sword for the first time. Then, whenever you want the sword, all you have to do is touch it and say . . .’

  ‘Truelove,’ said Effie. ‘That’s my magic word. Truelove,’ she said again.

  Bang! There was a crack and hiss in the air, and . . . It was just like what happened when Wolf touched the Sword of Orphennyus. Well, almost. In Wolf’s case, something that was small became big. In Effie’s case, something that didn’t exist in this world suddenly appeared as if it had been beamed down from somewhere full of light, hope and beauty. In her hands now was a large gleaming sword made partly of mountain gold and partly from light itself. Holding it, she felt like she could go anywhere and do anything. She felt invincible.

  ‘It’s the Sword of Light,’ said Pelham Longfellow. ‘It’s been in the Truelove family for hundreds and hundreds of years. Only a true hero can use it. I don’t know when they last had a true hero born into the family – most of them are scholars, clerics, philosophers and composers. You’re quite special, you know. Anyway, you’ll find that no one will ever be able to take this necklace from you. Well, unless they kill you first.’

  ‘Goodness,’ said Effie. ‘Why is the sword so light?’

  ‘Because it’s the Sword of Light, of course. And mountain gold isn’t heavy anyway. It’s your true weapon. I know you’ll do only good with it. When you want it to become a necklace again you just have to sort of think it small and it will happen.’

  Effie tried this. To her astonishment it worked.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Effie. ‘Thank you for everything.’

  ‘Is that the time?’ Longfellow looked at his watch. ‘I’m supposed to be in Paris in five minutes. So . . .’

  Effie couldn’t help herself. She rushed towards Pelham Longfellow and hugged him.

  ‘Will I see you again soon?’ she asked.

  He nodded. ‘At Truelove House. We’ll have tea on the lawn. I think I’m going there this weekend. Although . . . You won’t yet know how to calculate time from one world to the other. But I think you have a friend who can help you there.’ He looked at his watch again. ‘Anyway, I’d better be . . .’

  ‘Oh!’ Effie suddenly remembered. ‘Your dagger. The athame.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Longfellow. ‘Yes. The Athame of Stealth. I think you may know someone who can use that. Is he called Maximilian? I hear he tried to go to the Underworld on his own, which means he is potentially quite a powerful mage. He could help you a great deal.’

  And then he screwed his broomstick together, opened the window and flew away.

  The rest of the day passed in a haze. Double English went uncharacteristically quickly and then there was lunch, followed by outdoor games in the damp early afternoon mizzle. Effie remembered to take off her ring this time before doing sports in the Realworld. She now had a suspicion that the ring used up energy in order to boost her strength. This seemed perfectly proper if you happened to be fighting a dark mage, but was perhaps not so necessary for netball.

  At break time Lexy gave her a sweet, herby green tonic which made the rest of the afternoon pass pleasantly and quickly. During double maths Maximilian kept trying to get her attention, but she ignored him. She was still thinking.

  And then it was time for detention. At four o’clock Effie and her friends assembled outside the caretaker’s cupboard and waited for Mrs Beathag Hide. When she appeared she was carrying a cream-coloured envelope in her long thin fingers.

  ‘As you know,’ she said to the children, ‘I am not one for emotion. So I am going to give you this and leave. You may use it whenever you like. The cleaner comes to lock everything up at six o’clock, but I believe you already know the alternative way out. Good evening.’

  She gave the envelope to Effie and walked away.

  ‘What did she mean?’ said Wolf.

  When Effie opened the envelope she found a large key inside.

  ‘Does she want us to lock ourselves in?’ said Maximilian. ‘Or . . .?’

  ‘I think it’s for this door,’ said Effie. She tried it. The door opened.

  The day before, this cupboard, which was really a small room with no windows, had contained nothing but a table, a sink, a couple of chairs, a stool and an old ladder. Now it also contained two large sturdy bookshelves. And on them were Effie’s grandfather’s books.

  ‘What . . .?’ said Effie. ‘I don’t understand how . . .’

  But it didn’t matter. The children went through the door and into their new library. As well
as the books, someone had thought to bring in an old kettle and five mugs. There was a tin of tea and a jar of cocoa and a box of biscuits. There was even a little vase of flowers on the old paint-spattered table.

  Each of the five friends now sensed properly how much their lives had irrevocably changed in the last two days. Raven had become a true witch, Lexy had become a true healer and Wolf had become a true warrior. Effie had become a true hero and a traveller between worlds. And now she was a Keeper, too. Each one of them felt extremely proud and happy. And now they had their own special place where they could meet and plan and read great tales of adventure and . . .

  But Maximilian didn’t feel any of these things at all. He felt like an outsider, a pathetic loser who had always dreamed of a life of magic but who had blown it. He had the spectacles in their case ready to give back to Effie. And then that would be it. Back to his sad little bungalow, with his mother pretending there was no magic in the world, with no friends, to spend night after night on the dim web looking for hope and meaning but finding nothing. Without the spectacles, he wouldn’t even be able to find solace in knowledge. But it was what he deserved for deceiving his first real friend.

  After everyone had drunk hot chocolate and had several biscuits it seemed that it was time to leave. Lexy couldn’t wait to tell her aunt about everything that had happened to her, and Raven was determined to go and find out whatever she could about Skylurian Midzhar from her mother. Wolf had rugby practice. And so Effie was left alone with Maximilian. He knew there was no chance of getting her to change her mind, so, after he had helped to rinse out the mugs, he got ready to go as well.

  ‘Thank you for everything,’ he said, holding out the spectacles to Effie. ‘I was honoured to be your friend and I am so sorry I let you down.’

  Effie touched the tiny gold sword around her neck. She thought again that if it hadn’t been for Maximilian she would never have had a copy of the codicil at all. And he shouldn’t have read her letter – of course he shouldn’t – but that was just what he was like. He was curious, desperate for knowledge and . . .