Second Term at Tall Towers

by Lou Kuenzler

  “All our hard work for nothing,” said Izumi.

  “None of them can be saved,” agreed Scarlet.

  “It’s not as bad as that. Look.” Grace picked up the nearest card and tried to wipe it on her sleeve.

  The First Year Princesses

  at Tall Towers Academy

  Invite you to celebrate spring.

  Please join us for

  The Ballet of the Flowers.

  But it was no good. The date and place where the show was to be held were smeared with mud. Scarlet and Izumi were right: the whole pile of invitations was ruined. It was all Grace’s fault.

  Grace grabbed hold of Billy as Scarlet and Izumi gathered the muddy cards from the ground.

  “I’m such a clumsy idiot,” she said. “It was silly of me to charge around like that. I just wanted to warn you about the dragon.”

  “What dragon?” said a voice from across the lawn. “I bet you made the whole thing up just to get yourself out of trouble with Flintheart.”

  Grace looked round to see her mean cousin, Princess Precious, hurrying towards them with a spiteful little grin on her face. The giggling twins, Princesses Trinket and Truffle, were trotting along behind her as usual.

  “You’re just trying to get yourself out of trouble,” they echoed, squealing with laughter like two posh pink piglets.

  “Great! That’s all I need,” groaned Grace under her breath.

  “Grace’s middle name should be Trouble,” crowed Precious. “Before she came to Tall Towers, she practically ran wild at home. Her father might be a king, but he dresses from head to foot in yak fur, for goodness’ sake.”

  “Don’t you dare bring my home into this,” snapped Grace. “I did see a dragon. It was a Coronet Crimson. I don’t care what you say.” She pointed up to the sky. “Look, you can still see three puffs of smoke, if you don’t believe me.”

  Izumi raised her hand, squinting towards the sun. “I think those are just clouds, aren’t they?” she said.

  It was true. The puffs of smoke did look harmless enough.

  “Exactly!” said Precious. “It doesn’t prove a thing. If this dragon is as big as you say, everyone on the island would have seen it.”

  “Perhaps it was just a trick of the light in the sky,” said Scarlet kindly. “I see shadows and things that make me jump all the time.”

  “It wasn’t a shadow. It was a dragon,” said Grace. But it was obvious that even her two best friends didn’t believe her.

  “You poor, poor things,” said Precious, dashing forward and throwing her arms around Scarlet and Izumi as if they were her best friends. She usually only bothered with the richest princesses at Tall Towers. In general, she completely ignored Izumi, whose kingdom was not much bigger than the one Grace came from. And she rarely paid any attention to shy, quiet Princess Scarlet. But now she hugged them tightly and the twins joined in.

  “I thought Grace and that horrible, scruffy unicorn were going to trample you to the ground,” gasped Precious. “It must have been dreadful for you. I saw the whole thing.”

  Scarlet did look very pale and shaken. Her green eyes were still wide and bright with shock.

  “We’re fine,” sighed Izumi. “I just wish I could say the same for the invitations.”

  “I’ll help you make some new ones; I promise,” said Grace, ignoring Precious and the twins.

  “Don’t worry,” Izumi shook her head.

  “We’ll manage fine by ourselves … honestly,” said Scarlet.

  “Oh…” Grace felt a stab of unhappiness: she knew at once why her friends wouldn’t let her help. She wasn’t artistic like Izumi. Her handwriting wasn’t neat and beautiful like Scarlet’s. Grace couldn’t even draw a good stick princess. Her school work was so messy, it always looked as if a spider – or even a whole troupe of spiders – had danced across the page with inky boots on.

  “Imagine what invitations made by Grace would look like,” snorted Precious. “We could hardly give those to the school governors.”

  “She has the worst handwriting ever,” roared the twins.

  “I won’t bother, then,” said Grace. Hurt was burning inside her like a fire. She scuffed the toes of her shoes into the ground, desperate not to cry. Not in front of Precious. She swung her foot and kicked a stone across the lawn, aiming at the apple tree. But it bounced sharply off the trunk.

  Ping!

  It hit Scarlet hard on the leg.

  “Ouch!” The red-haired princess winced with pain and looked up in shock.

  “I’m so sorry,” cried Grace. She rushed towards her friend, dragging Billy behind her. “Are you all right, Scarlet? I didn’t mean to hit you…”

  “That must have really stung,” gasped Izumi.

  “Poor Scarlet, you’ll have a terrible bruise,” said Precious.

  “Terrible,” agreed the twins.

  Grace hugged Scarlet and Billy tried to nuzzle in too.

  “I was aiming for the tree,” Grace explained.

  “I’m fine,” said Scarlet but she moved away rubbing her leg. “You ought to go and see Fairy Godmother Flint before you get in any more trouble.”

  “Yes, hurry along Princess DisGrace,” sneered Precious.

  “Oh, be quiet,” snapped Grace. She felt terrible about hurting Scarlet – the last thing she needed was Precious stirring up trouble and making things worse.

  But as she glanced towards her friends, she saw that Izumi was shaking her head.

  “Precious does have a point this time, Grace,” she said.

  “If you hadn’t been galloping so fast, the invitations would never have been spoiled,” added Scarlet quietly.

  “It’s just typical of Grace!” said Precious.

  “Typical!” echoed the twins.

  Grace opened her mouth to explain about the dragon one last time … but there was no point. Precious had her arms around Scarlet and Izumi again. They were all staring back at Grace, shaking their heads.

  “I don’t see why everyone’s making such a fuss, anyway,” Grace growled. “The invitations were only for a stupid flower ballet. I don’t even want to dance in it.”

  “Don’t be silly,” said Izumi.

  “Of course you want to dance in it. It’s going to be the highlight of the whole term,” said Scarlet.

  But Grace turned and stomped away.

  If Scarlet and Izumi would rather be friends with Precious, she’d leave them to it.

  “Wait!” called Scarlet.

  “Come back!” said Izumi.

  But Grace kept on walking. Her hands were shaking as she led Billy into the courtyard and came face to face with Fairy Godmother Flint.

  Old Flintheart sighed as she led Grace up to the staffroom and signed a black-edged punishment slip with her crow-feather quill.

  “It is Saturday tomorrow,” she said, handing the notice to Grace. “But you will spend it in the library writing lines.”

  “What about the dragon?” said Grace. It would serve Flintheart right if the great beast suddenly swooped into the courtyard, roaring and blowing fire. But almost as soon as she thought it, Grace shuddered. She knew Hetty was right. A dragon’s favourite food is always a nice fresh princess. Someone sweet and dainty like Scarlet would make a perfect mid-morning snack.

  “I have sent a message to Keeper Falcon telling him what you claim to have seen,” said Flintheart. “But I hardly think we need to call a troupe of royal guards. You have let your imagination run away with you, Young Majesty. There have been no dragons on this island for many years.” She placed her quill in the ink pot as if the matter was closed.

  “You have to believe me,” cried Grace desperately. “I did see a dragon. It flew right above my head. It’s tail was three times as long as this sash.”

  Grace waved the thick satin ribbon in the air. Then she remembered that Billy had chewed the ends and tried to hide it behind her back.

  “I could saddle up my unicorn – properly this time – and help search the is
land,” said Grace quickly. She was desperate to protect her friends, but didn’t think about the danger to herself. Ever since she had won a jousting tournament at the end of last term, she felt more like a knight than a princess anyway.

  “You will do no such thing,” said Flintheart. “In fact, you are banned from riding for the whole weekend.”

  “But…” Grace bit her lip. She knew there was no point in arguing. And when Keeper Falcon came striding into the staffroom, he laughed as if the whole thing was just a joke.

  “I was up on those cliffs myself. I saw nothing,” he said. “The whole idea is ridiculous. Coronet Crimson dragons are extinct. They have been for fifteen years.”

  “Ever since you drove them away from this island,” muttered Grace under her breath.

  “There is no way you can have seen the creature you describe,” said Keeper Falcon, impatiently pacing the room and looking out of the tower window as if there was somewhere he’d rather be.

  “But couldn’t she have been sleeping or hibernating for somewhere all this time?” asked Grace. “Dragons do live for hundreds of years.”

  “I don’t think you need to tell Keeper Falcon about dragons, Young Majesty,” said Flintheart crossly. “He is a world expert on the subject.”

  Keeper Falcon was already hurrying towards the door. “I suggest you spend less time looking for dragons and climbing trees from now on, Young Majesty,” he said sharply, “and spend more time thinking about how to be a proper Tall Towers princess.”

  “Quite,” said Flintheart, wagging a bony finger at Grace. “You have the Ballet of the Flowers to think about, for a start.”

  The next morning Grace was in the library even before it was time for her punishment to start.

  “Ancient Dragons of the World,” she muttered, pulling a big red leather book from the shelf.

  And there it was. The very last picture in the book.

  Coronet Crimson (Female). Her dragon – just like the one she had seen – right down to the huge, silver-tipped wings and gold-clawed feet.

  The Coronet Crimson Dragon is now thoroughly extinct, she read. Grace ran her finger across the page tracing the shape of the dragon’s wings. It was so sad to think that these magnificent creatures had died out.

  “But I know I saw one. Either everyone else is wrong, or I am,” murmured Grace, feeling as if the whole world was against her.

  She flicked back through the book, looking at pictures of spotty green dragon eggs and mothers with their wings tucked around tiny pups. There was a section on dragon myths and legends from different countries. Grace even saw a picture of a whole village, all dancing together in a long line, with a red silk dragon costume lifted over their heads and their legs becoming the limbs of the beast.

  “Time to get started now,” said Fairy Godmother Webster, the old librarian who was supposed to be watching Grace while she wrote her lines. Grace closed the book, her head full of swirling dragons. She unrolled her scroll, dipped her frayed quill in a pot of ink and began to write.

  Grace wrote until her wrist hurt. The trouble was, Flintheart had said they had to be one hundred perfect lines: “No blotches or blots or you’ll have to start over again.”

  Grace was so miserable that she smeared and smudged her work even more than usual. She started again five times.

  “Dragon poo!” she muttered under her breath, even though she knew it was not a very princessey thing to say.

  “Sometimes I don’t even want to be a proper princess,” she grumbled, as a blot of ink spread across the page. No wonder her friends hadn’t let her help them make new invitations. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot as she remembered how she had ruined the beautiful cards.

  How could she have been so stupid as to gallop across the lawn like that in the first place? If only Billy hadn’t charged quite so fast. It was her own fault – she should have put a proper bridle on him. She couldn’t be angry with Billy.

  But she could be angry with Precious. Her spiteful cousin had gone out of her way to stir up trouble with her friends. Now the two girls were barely talking to Grace. The three of them had been planning a lovely picnic all week. But they’d probably gone off with Precious now instead.

  “Oh, dragon poo!” said Grace again. She stabbed her quill into the page so that a new blot of ink spread across the parchment.

  “I’m going to be here all day,” she groaned.

  But just at that moment, Izumi poked her head around the library door.

  “Psst,” she whispered. “Is it safe to come in?”

  Grace glanced over at Fairy Godmother Webster. The old librarian had fallen asleep hours ago with her head resting on the copy of Ancient Dragons of the World that Grace had taken from the shelf. She was snoring happily as if she had dozed off on a soft feather pillow.

  “All clear.” Grace smiled. She wanted to clap her hands when she saw that Scarlet was there too.

  “We thought you might need some help,” whispered Izumi as she crept into the library.

  “We know old Flintheart always wants lines to be perfect,” said Scarlet, never taking her huge, worried eyes off the sleeping librarian.

  Grace let out a long sigh of relief. She should have known her friends wouldn’t stay angry at her for long. “I do need a bit of help,” she laughed, pointing at the inky scribble on the page.

  “Oh, Grace,” smiled Scarlet.

  “That’s terrible!” chuckled Izumi. “Even worse than we thought it would be. It’s a good job we brought this.”

  The smile faded from Grace’s face as her friends began to unroll a clean white scroll.

  “I know you should do the punishment yourself,” said Scarlet.

  “But we felt so sorry for you,” continued Izumi. “So we’ve written the lines for you instead.”

  “You felt sorry for me?” said Grace, a hot blush creeping up her neck. They were starting to sound like Precious.

  “We did half each,” said Scarlet excitedly, pointing to row after row of clear, curly lines on the bright, white page. “We made our handwriting look as much like yours as we could.”

  “Only much neater, of course” said Izumi. “And with a few small blotches, just to make it look real.”

  Grace looked down at all the hard work her friends had done. Her hands were shaking as she picked up the scroll.

  “Hand these in now and we can go for our picnic,” said Izumi.

  “Just the three of us,” said Scarlet.

  But Grace didn’t move.

  “Let’s put this mess in the bin.” Izumi grabbed a corner of Grace’s own ink-spattered scroll. “Oh dear, these lines would never have got past Flintheart,” she laughed. “They really are a disgrace…”

  “Don’t touch that,” said Grace, snatching her scroll away. “That’s all you two think I am, isn’t it? A total disgrace.”

  “No!” Izumi stepped back in surprise. “We don’t think you’re a disgrace … just these scratchy old lines. We knew you’d make a mess of them so…”

  “Yes! Just like I make a mess of everything, according to you,” snapped Grace.

  She barked so loudly that Fairy Godmother Webster sat bolt upright and blinked.

  “What’s all this noise?” said the old librarian opening one eye. “Have you finished your punishment, Princess Grace?”

  “We just came to see how she was getting on,” said Izumi quickly.

  Grace glanced down at the perfect lines her friends had written for her. She knew that if she handed them in she could escape from the library right away and head off on a picnic just like they had all planned. Maybe she could even take the binoculars and search for the dragon.

  But she just couldn’t do it. She picked up the perfect scroll, scrunched it into a ball and tossed it in the bin.

  Scarlet gasped.

  “I haven’t finished yet. I’m sorry, Fairy Godmother,” said Grace. “Those lines were no good.”

  “Well, you better hurry up,” said the librarian, l
aying her head back down on the desk.

  “What did you do that for?” hissed Izumi. “Our writing was perfect.”

  “Just like you two,” said Grace, furious tears pricking the corner of her eyes. “Perfect Princess Scarlet and perfect Princess Izumi always rushing to the rescue of poor disastrous Princess Disgrace!”

  “It’s not like that,” said Scarlet. “We were only trying to help.”

  “I don’t want your help,” snapped Grace. “And I don’t want to be your friend, either.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

  “Fine!” said Izumi.

  “If that’s what you want,” said Scarlet. The pity in her eyes was far worse than the anger in Izumi’s. The two girls turned and walked out of the library.

  Grace picked up her quill with shaking fingers. “I must not gallop my unicorn,” she wrote.

  But now it was the tears streaming down her face that blotted the page.

  By Monday morning, Grace was in a thoroughly bad mood. She had barely spoken a word to Scarlet and Izumi and there was still no sign of the dragon.

  Grace knew she really had seen the enormous creature, but decided that the dragon must have been flying over the island and not stopping.

  If Coronet Crimsons really are extinct, thought Grace, then the one I saw must be the last one left in the whole world. She won’t be coming here to nest. She’ll be roaming the seas, desperately hoping to find a mate. Grace felt sad for the lonely dragon, far out there across the ocean somewhere. There would never be any proof that she had been here at all. Everyone would go on believing that Grace had made it up or imagined her.

  Now, on top of everything else, it was double ballet for the first two lessons. It wasn’t that Grace didn’t like ballet – she was usually happy to give it her best shot. It was just that the other twelve princesses in her class were so much better than she was. They’d all been taking dancing lessons ever since they could walk.

  “That’s what proper princesses do,” as Precious said at least five times a day.

  The first thing Grace had learned when she could walk was how to milk a yak. Cragland was not like the kingdoms the other princesses came from. It was cold and rocky and far away from anywhere else: the only thing that ever danced in Cragland was the wind in the trees. Grace’s mother had died shortly after her little sister, Princess Pip, was born. Now there was no queen to organize balls or ballet shows. The king and his band of hairy warriors would rather roast yak meat and gather round the fire to tell tales of ferocious beasts than dress up and attend a dance.