Second Term at Tall Towers

by Lou Kuenzler

  Grace scrubbed and cleaned like a whirlwind, but it still seemed to take hours. Poor Hetty was hiding with the milk at the edge of the woods. She must be wondering where Grace had got to. But there were clods of mud on every floorboard and splashes of muck on every wall. There was even a filthy handprint right in the middle of the white dormitory door. Flintheart would never let Grace go until everything was spotlessly clean.

  As she worked, all Grace could think about was poor little Huffle, who would be growing weaker by the hour as he waited desperately for his milk.

  At last the job was done.

  Grace bolted across the courtyard. “See you later,” she shouted to Scarlet and Izumi, who were sitting together in the shade under the peach tree.

  “Where are you going now?” Izumi hollered after her. “Come back! We’ve been waiting for you for hours.”

  “We thought we could do something together,” Scarlet called.

  “Sorry, got to go,” Grace cried, wishing more deeply than ever that she could stay with her friends – or at least tell them the truth about why she was running off.

  “Suit yourself!” snapped Izumi. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you at the moment, Grace.”

  “I could have been practising my ballet,” said Scarlet weakly.

  Oh no – the ballet, thought Grace as she sped out of sight. She had promised to practise this weekend. Scarlet’s dance was already perfect, but Grace barely had a single move, other than wobbling her arms about like a crazy scarecrow.

  I’ll have to practice later, she thought, dashing on. She couldn’t waste another moment – she had to feed the baby dragon.

  When she found Hetty, they took a side of the bucket each and hurried through the woods, trying not to spill too much more of the precious milk. They had decided to leave Billy and Flump behind this time. The poor dog had been so terrified, and Billy might try to escape again.

  “It’s further than I remembered,” panted Hetty, as they reached the cave at last.

  “We’re here now, Huffle,” whispered Grace, as they scrabbled through the dark and stepped out on to the hidden ledge beyond.

  She had expected the little dragon to be weak and sleepy, but instead he greeted them with a furious cough of flame.

  “Stop that,” cried Grace. “Or you’ll set your nest on fire again.”

  Pom! Hetty blew her horn, which she had kept hung over her back. But it didn’t seem to calm the dragon down.

  “Don’t be angry with him,” she said. “He’s just hungry, that’s all.”

  “I know how he feels,” laughed Grace. “I get really cranky when I don’t eat.” She couldn’t really be cross with the little dragon anyway – not even after all the trouble he had caused. He was just a helpless baby. He wrinkled the end of his long nose as if he could smell the milk, and stared up at Grace with hopeful golden eyes.

  “There you go – get your snout in that,” smiled Grace, pushing the bucket to the edge of the nest. She didn’t dare go any closer in case the creature blew flames again.

  “When the bucket’s empty we can use it to fetch water to dampen the nest so he doesn’t set it on fire,” she said to Hetty. “We have to start thinking like a mother dragon now.”

  Huffle stood up on shaky legs. He sniffed the milk and blew bubbles across its surface. Then he stuck his nose in the bucket, snorted, and pulled it out again, hissing steam.

  “It’s no good,” cried Grace. “He can’t drink like that. He’s just a baby.” She clasped her head in her hands. “I should have thought of that. We always use a bottle to feed the orphan yaks at home.”

  “But where are we going to get a baby bottle from?” said Hetty. “Uncle Falcon doesn’t have any. He won’t even feed the baby deer he finds. He says orphan creatures have to learn to look after themselves.”

  Hetty turned her head away, but not before Grace saw that her eyes were full of tears. She thought how terrible it must be to grow up with someone so cold and uncaring as Keeper Falcon, especially when Hetty was an orphan herself.

  “We mustn’t let him find Huffle,” Hetty sniffed.

  The dragon blew bubbles helplessly in the bucket of milk, then wobbled and fell weakly back into the nest.

  “I just wish we knew what to do,” said Grace.

  Pom! Pom! Pom! Hetty blew on the horn. “At least this useless old thing might cheer us all up while we try to think,” she said, drying her eyes.

  “Wait … that’s brilliant.” Grace grabbed the silver instrument. “This horn might be totally useless for calming dragons down, but it’s perfect for feeding them.”

  She turned the horn around so that the wide bell-shaped end was closest to her, then pointed the narrow mouthpiece towards Huffle.

  Almost straightaway, the little dragon took it in his mouth and began to suck.

  “Quick,” cried Grace. “Grab the bucket, Hetty. Pour a drop of milk down the end of the horn as if it is a funnel.”

  “Or a giant baby bottle,” laughed Hetty as the little dragon sucked and drank the milk. Because he was feeding from the end of the horn, the girls could stand far enough away not to get burned even if he did cough flames at them.

  In no time at all, the bucket was empty.

  “All gone,” smiled Grace.

  Burp! A perfect smoke ring floated through the air.

  “I beg your pardon,” laughed Grace. But Huffle just curled up in his nest with his tail wrapped under his chin, and fell asleep.

  Soon he was snoring happily. His tummy looked fat and full, and little puffs of smoke popped out of his nostrils with every breath.

  “If we can feed him like that every day, he’ll be strong in no time,” said Grace.

  And she was right. By the end of just one week, Huffle was no longer the size of a little piglet. He had grown as big as a foal.

  It was often impossible for Grace to sneak away from school, especially with more and more rehearsals for the Ballet of the Flowers, but she taught Hetty how to milk a cow so that Huffle would never go hungry. As soon as she had finished feeding the peacocks and doves, Hetty went to the cave to look after the dragon.

  By Saturday, Grace hadn’t managed to see Huffle for three whole days.

  She woke at dawn and crept out of the dormitory before Scarlet and Izumi were awake. They would only ask her questions, and Grace hated lying to them or pretending she hadn’t heard. The strain was returning to the friendship as the secret of the dragon forced her to push the girls away.

  Worse still, Precious seemed to be spying on her. She was desperate to catch Grace letting Hetty ride her unicorn, but Grace began to worry that her cousin suspected her of other secrets too. If Precious ever found out about the dragon, she would call her father, and a hundred knights would come rushing from his kingdom ready to drive the creature away … or worse, to slay him in a fight.

  Huffle might be growing fast, but he wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Luckily, Grace was up so early that the dormitory tower was silent and the stairs were deserted. She hurried out to the courtyard just as the bright sun peeped through the clouds. She had hidden a note for Hetty in the peacock pens with instructions to meet at the Gemstone Glade just after dawn. Grace saddled Billy and trotted out of the yard. She had decided to take him with her today. It meant she could reach the glade much quicker and the other princesses would think she had gone off for a long ride. She slung a bulging hay net over the saddle and hoped that would keep Billy happy if they had to tie him up.

  She trotted all the way there, stopping just once to pick a sprig of dragon’s heart, which she hoped might offer inspiration. She’d promised herself she would find time to practise her dance today, and at least the weed didn’t smell quite so bad when it was in the open air and freshly picked.

  Hetty was waiting on the path outside the glade. “Hello,” the younger girl cried. “I can’t believe we can spend the whole day with our baby dragon.”

  “And you can ride Billy too, of course,” smi
led Grace.

  “Just so long as Chalky doesn’t get jealous,” frowned Hetty, pointing to the trees, where the little unicorn was waiting.

  “He’s like your shadow,” laughed Grace as they entered the glade. The little foal crept after them.

  Grace hung Billy’s hay net from a tree. “Share that nicely with Chalky,” she said firmly, before pushing through the curtain of ivy and disappearing into the cave.

  Huffle wagged his tail like a dog when the girls stepped out onto the ledge. He seemed very pleased to see Grace after all this time. He rubbed his nose against her shoulder and let her scratch behind his funny, leathery ears. Now that he wasn’t frightened of them, he never huffed and puffed at the girls, although they still kept the nest nice and damp just in case.

  At last, when they had tickled his belly and fed him his milk, Huffle curled up for his usual morning nap.

  “Come on, Hetty. You can ride Billy while Huffle rests,” said Grace. “We’ll come back in half an hour and see if he’s woken up.”

  So the two girls crept back out through the cave. Hetty and Billy trotted figure of eights across the glade, with Chalky bouncing behind to keep up.

  “You’re getting so good at riding now,” called Grace. “That’s a perfect rising trot.”

  She stared down at the crinkled dragon’s heart weed lying where she had dropped it on the grass. It didn’t give her any new ideas, but she knew that while Hetty was riding she should use the time to stretch and turn. Her dance was as hopeless as ever, but she had to do something.

  She spun away across the glade and gasped.

  “Huffle!” The little dragon must have squeezed through the crack from the ledge. He was standing in the mouth of the cave, poking his nose out through the curtain of ivy and sniffing the air.

  Slowly, he crept forward, swishing his tail across the grass.

  “This will mean trouble,” sighed Grace, but she couldn’t help smiling as the dragon came face to face with Chalky. She thought for a moment that Huffle might be frightened and blow smoke. But it was obvious that the two young creatures just wanted to play. They rolled around like kittens, chasing and stalking and running again.

  It soon turned into a game for the girls too. Hetty rode Billy alongside Chalky, and Grace stalked Huffle, copying his movements in a sort of crazy dance. She thumped her feet on the ground, mimicking the heavy way he stamped his paws, and arched her back and shook her head just like he did. She even wiggled her bottom, pretending to swish an imaginary tail.

  “That looks great,” laughed Hetty. “Far better than your flower dance.”

  “Thanks,” Grace grinned. “I’m much better at stomping like a dragon pup than pretending to have petals.”

  “My uncle says he’s seen dances in faraway countries where whole villages dress up and pretend to be a dragon,” said Hetty.

  “I saw a picture like that in the dragon book I found in the library,” said Grace, remembering the silk costume she’d seen, with the long line of dancers and the huge dragon mask at the front.

  Huffle scraped the ground. He seemed cross that she had stopped dancing with him.

  “Sorry,” Grace smiled, dropping into a wobbly curtsy as if the dragon was a prince at a ball. Then the two of them stomped away together again, wiggling and turning in circles. Hetty was laughing so hard that she nearly fell off Billy.

  “If only Huffle could be my partner at the Ballet of the Flowers,” sighed Grace. “I don’t suppose anyone would notice what I was doing with my feet if I had a real baby dragon dancing alongside me.”

  At last, when everyone was exhausted, they unsaddled Billy and let the unicorns graze.

  “Now we will have to get Huffle back into the cave,” said Grace. “We can’t leave him wandering around out here.”

  It took them over an hour of calling and cooing and coaxing, “Come on, Huffle. Come on.” But the little dragon was having far too much fun; he and Chalky had started dashing around again.

  At last, Grace managed to catch him with one of Billy’s reins and lead him back through the cave.

  “Push against his bottom, Hetty,” said Grace, as she squeezed through the crack. “I’ll pull from the front end.”

  The thin leather of the reins hardly seemed strong enough to haul the growing dragon’s weight. “At least he can’t fly yet,” panted Hetty, falling in an exhausted heap on the ledge as they finally got Huffle back to his nest.

  “No,” agreed Grace. She felt sad for a moment. As soon as he could fly, Huffle would take to the skies and leave Coronet Island for good. Even in the old days, the crimson dragons had never stayed here all year round – it was only the females who returned, and then only to lay their eggs and nest.

  Grace breathed in deeply and tried not to be unhappy. It would be good for Huffle to be free, to fly far away across the oceans exploring the world as soon as he was big enough to look after himself. It was her job to keep him safe until his wings were strong enough to take to the sky.

  “We’d better find something to put across the crack,” said Grace, heading back to search the glade. “We can’t have Huffle wandering about the woods when we’re not here. Someone might see him. Or he might find his way to school.”

  “How about that?” Hetty pointed to a heavy branch. The two girls dragged it through the cave and wedged it across the gap that led out to the ledge.

  “Perfect,” said Grace. “That should keep him out of mischief for now.”

  “Uncle Falcon has a proper old dragon halter hanging in his shed,” said Hetty. “It is made of copper thread, plaited a hundred times and twisted with a hundred turns. Nothing could break that. If we want to let Huffle out again tomorrow we can use that to lead him with.”

  “Great idea,” said Grace. “Huffle is so strong, I was worried that Billy’s reins were going to snap.”

  But when the two girls met at the edge of the glade next morning, Hetty shook her head.

  “The dragon halter has gone,” she said. “It’s been hanging on the same nail in the shed for years. Now it’s completely disappeared.”

  Grace and Hetty spent all day Sunday playing with Huffle in the glade again. Then they tucked him snugly in his nest. Without the dragon halter they had to use Billy’s reins to lead Huffle through the cave once more. Then they blocked the gap in the wall with the heavy branch to keep him safely penned on the ledge.

  All too soon the weekend was over, and it was time for Grace to face double Monday morning ballet class yet again.

  “How time flies,” said Madame Lightfeather, gliding into the studio like a swan in a white tutu. “We will be performing our Ballet of the Flowers in less than a week.”

  There was an excited gasp from the other twelve princesses and a single groan from Grace. Even shy Scarlet seemed excited by the chance to perform.

  “You’re going to be brilliant,” whispered Grace, who had seen her friend’s poppy ballet getting better and better as the weeks went by. Scarlet’s feet barely seemed to touch the floor. She was like a floating red petal, spinning in a spring breeze.

  “I could help you,” whispered Scarlet, shyly. “If you didn’t think I was being bossy, that is.”

  “Oh, yes!”

  Madame Lightfeather was still talking to the whole class. Grace had been so busy whispering with Scarlet that she only caught the last four words.

  “…in the Gemstone Glade,” finished Madame Lightfeather, clapping her hands.

  Grace felt the colour drain from her face. “What’s she saying?” she hissed, grabbing Scarlet’s hand. “Why’s Madame talking about the Gemstone Glade?”

  “Because that’s where the show’s going to be, stupid. Don’t you know anything?” said Precious, butting in.

  “We’ve all been talking about it for weeks,” laughed the twins.

  “Quiet back there,” hushed Madame Lightfeather. “I want to see you all practising your steps.”

  How can I not have known? thought Grace. Then she realized s
he’d hardly spoken to anyone in her class since the ballet was announced. She was always busy with Hetty and Huffle.

  “It was on the invitations,” whispered Scarlet. “I thought you knew.”

  Grace had never seen the new invitations, but she remembered clearly picking up a muddy card on the day that she had ruined the old ones. Why hadn’t she noticed then?

  “Of course,” Grace groaned. Billy had chewed a great chunk out of the card so that she couldn’t read the time or the place of the show.

  “I’ve never been to the Gemstone Glade,” whispered Izumi. “But I thought I might go after school and paint. There are supposed to be blankets of flowers that look like jewels.”

  “You’d love it!” said Grace, without thinking. She clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “Have you been there?” Izumi asked.

  “Yes,” said Grace. “No … I don’t know.”

  Izumi looked confused. Grace turned and danced away as fast as she could. As soon as class was over, she’d have to find Hetty and warn her about what was going on. They must find a way to keep Huffle a secret or the whole school would be in a panic, even though he was still so young and no real danger to anyone. Keeper Falcon would be sure to drive him away from the island.

  “After break, you are going to have fittings for your costumes instead of lessons,” Madame Lightfeather said brightly. “Please organize a list amongst yourselves and then visit Fairy Godmother Pom in the Sewing Tower one by one.”

  “I’ll go last,” said Grace quickly. That might just give her enough time to find Hetty before anyone noticed she was gone.

  The moment ballet class was over she rushed towards the dovecote in the garden, pulling on her riding boots but not bothering to change out of her tutu.

  There was no sign of Hetty. She wasn’t with the doves or the peacocks.

  Grace dashed desperately towards the stables, glancing at the big clock above the gate.

  She wouldn’t need to be back to see Fairy Godmother Pom for her costume fitting until five minutes before lunchtime. Surely measuring the yellow-brown dragon’s heart smock that had been designed for her wouldn’t take long.