The Boy Who Sang with Dragons

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The Boy Who Sang with Dragons Page 3

by Andy Shepherd


  Flicker’s wings beat slower. And just for a moment I saw the scales under my hands grow dull, their shine fading. And the rumble I felt against my cheek sounded more like a sigh than a contented purr. I squeezed him tighter, pushing away the same unsettled feeling I’d had on waking. I didn’t want some unknown worry spoiling this moment.

  Outside my window, Flicker dipped his head and I climbed down onto the sill. I stared into his eyes, where a rainbow of colours danced and dazzled.

  Then I stood and watched as he rose up into the sky and disappeared amid the clouds.

  The next day after school I headed with the rest of the superhero squad to the bus stop and together we took the short bus ride to the botanic garden. I’d begun to wonder if the unsettled feeling I’d had the night before was about the seedlings. They might be safe in Chouko’s hands for the time being, but it still wasn’t a great idea to have anyone getting too close a look at them. Glancing around at the others, I was glad they’d all agreed to come too.

  I’d also decided it was time to face Chouko. The last time Aura and I had seen her, her house had almost gone up in flames after Zing had got trapped in her greenhouse. And then we’d run off and left her to deal with the mess, too worried about the little dragon causing any more chaos. It was time to try and make amends, if she’d let us.

  Everyone was full of the previous night’s excitement, and the thrill of knowing the dragons had returned. We’d all received a full-capitals text from Kat declaring: ‘THEY’RE BACK! THEY FOUND US!’

  But as I led everyone along the path through the trees towards the little gardener’s cottage where Chouko lived, our chatter petered out. All of us were wondering what kind of reception we’d get.

  As we walked past one of the benches that were dotted around the garden, I saw that someone had been having a picnic and had left their litter on the grass.

  We chased the fluttering crisp packets and picked up the empty sandwich cartons and discarded bottles of water.

  ‘Thank you for doing that,’ a voice said behind us. ‘I really don’t understand people sometimes.’

  I spun round and saw Chouko coming towards us. Immediately, all the guilt and worry I felt leaped onto my face and started pulling my mouth in all sorts of weird directions. What started as an attempt at a friendly smile got yanked into a look of horror. I should have taken a moment before we met to think about what I could possibly say to her. She held my gaze for a second and then slowly smiled. Either she’d chosen to forgive or had forgotten our last meeting.

  ‘Perhaps people think we have fairies at the bottom of the garden who will tidy up after them,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know about fairies, but I know some dragons who’d give them a fiery reminder,’ Liam muttered quietly.

  ‘How is your little friend doing?’ she asked. For one awful second I thought she meant Zing. ‘I seem to remember you were having trouble with a cactus you were growing.’

  I smiled, relieved that she hadn’t spotted the little dragon that day and that I now had the perfect opportunity to ask about the dragon-fruit seedlings.

  ‘Not too well actually,’ I said. ‘In fact I wanted to ask you about it. We noticed you had some similar-looking cacti growing in your greenhouse.’

  Chouko glanced at Aura and I quickly continued before she got too caught up remembering our obviously not forgotten previous visit.

  ‘I just wondered what you do to keep them looking so healthy.’

  Chouko wrinkled her nose and gave a little shrug. ‘Nothing particular,’ she said. ‘The usual – a little warmth, not too much water, plenty of light. Maybe it’s all the stories I tell them about the gardens I’ve visited around the world.’ She chuckled. ‘You know, they do almost glow with good health.’

  I silently hoped that this was just a figure of speech and they weren’t actually glowing like the dragon fruits did before the dragons hatched. That really would attract attention.

  ‘I’m on my way to look for some more if you’d like to join me?’ she said. ‘Ten eager eyes are surely better than two! So long as you keep to the path,’ she added, giving me a friendly nudge.

  We followed Chouko into the glasshouse and through to the area where I’d found the last seedling. We all started scanning the ground. But Chouko giggled. ‘Eyes up, everyone,’ she said.

  Confused, I looked up to where she was pointing, to the tree above us with its glossy oval leaves.

  ‘I found all the other seedlings up in this one’s branches,’ she said. ‘They seem to just love this tree. Some plants like to hide out in the canopy where it’s safer.’

  ‘No wonder you couldn’t find any more,’ Aura whispered. ‘You must have collected all the ones on the ground, but who knew they could climb trees!’

  ‘They must be epiphytes,’ Ted said excitedly. ‘That means organisms that grow on other plants and get what they need from the air and rain. They’re usually pollinated by hummingbirds,’ he added, and I had the feeling he was about to launch into full-on fact-file mode.

  Chouko nodded, obviously impressed with Ted’s knowledge.

  I turned my gaze up and spotted a cluster of little seedlings, their tiny spiked leaves reaching out in my direction. Chouko spotted them too and clapped her hands delightedly.

  Then Liam called out, ‘Over here.’ And everyone looked to see where he was pointing. Chouko hurried over with her collecting tray and carefully started gathering up the ones he’d found.

  ‘Well done,’ she cried. ‘Excellent spotting!’

  I quickly untangled one of the little seedlings from the branch it was clinging to and popped it into my pocket before she returned.

  8

  A Bolt from the Blue

  At Aura’s house the next day, I cradled the little seedling in my hand and looked expectantly at her.

  ‘Maybe you should have left it on the tree,’ she said. ‘Or let Chouko take it with her like the rest. I don’t really know any more than you do about looking after them. At least they were thriving back in her greenhouse.’

  I felt my shoulders sag. I’d reached out and taken the seedling without really thinking. And ever since, I’d questioned whether I’d done the right thing. All I wanted was to try again. Maybe if I told it stories it would glow for me too? After all, with my imagination I bet my stories could rival Chouko’s. But hearing Aura’s doubts made me less sure of myself.

  I thought again of Elvi and Arturo, the two people who knew the most about the dragon-fruit tree, after finding the seeds in the Hidden Dragon City. Elvi had spent years looking after the tree in her garden, way back before it had become Grandad’s. Her diaries, which we’d found under Grandad’s shed, had already told us so much. But I knew there was more to find. For one thing, the missing letters from Arturo. If only we could find those, then maybe there would be something in them that could help. But despite a thorough search I’d still not managed to discover any more hiding places at Nana and Grandad’s. At this point I was pretty much relying on Aura’s green fingers to help me.

  She took the seedling carefully from my hands and settled it into the pot of soil she’d got ready.

  ‘Maybe Rosebud could use that breath of hers to keep it healthy,’ I said hopefully.

  ‘Maybe,’ Aura agreed. ‘Let’s hope so anyway.’

  We watched as Aura lifted Rosebud until her nose touched one of the seedling’s leaves. The little dragon let out an orange breath. And then a fart too – filling the air with a sweet-smelling green gas.

  ‘I don’t suppose it’ll suddenly start sprouting dragon fruits straight away,’ Aura giggled as we both stared intently at it.

  I snorted, the gas making my head swim and the laughter erupt out of me. Zing, who’d got a snout full of the green gas, had immediately revved up and was now crashing into the lampshade overhead, sending it rocking to and fro before he dived down and landed in a somersault on Aura’s bed. By this time we were rolling about on the floor in uncontrollable hysterics.
r />   Suddenly hearing footsteps on the stairs, Aura tucked Rosebud out of sight and I launched myself onto her bed, throwing a pillow onto a squirming Zing to hide him.

  The door opened and Aura’s mum popped her head in. Now that the effects of the green gas had passed, we were left, our faces streaming with tears of laughter, wondering what exactly had been quite so funny.

  ‘Hello, Tomas.’ She peered round the door. ‘Just checking for ponies or gerbils. Or camera crews.’ She gave me a grin – the kind of grin that made me think she might have just dropped a centipede down my back and was dying to burst out laughing and tell me.

  ‘All OK in here then?’

  ‘All fine, thanks, Mamma,’ Aura said sweetly.

  I nodded and started to smile, but the smile got lost on its way up my face. Because right then something exploded in my head. And it wasn’t dragon poo!

  My brain had done the most monumental backflip and was standing proudly like an Olympic athlete who knows they’ve just won gold. And to be fair, this bolt of recognition really was gold-medal-worthy. It had happened at the exact moment that Aura’s mum had given me that grin.

  ‘Isn’t that right, Tomas?’ Aura said from somewhere far, far away. ‘Tomas?’

  I shook my head and then nodded fiercely when they looked confused. I added a manic double thumbs up and a wide-mouthed grinace to be on the safe side – (a grinace is actually a grimace you’ve forced to become a grin. They can be a bit scary at the best of times, but when you add in a dragon under your bum who might just set light to your pants, a grinace can be pretty terrifying to behold). Aura’s mum backed out of the room warily, obviously deciding to leave us to it.

  ‘What’s up with you?’ Aura hissed, still watching the door. ‘We’re supposed to be flying under the radar, not drawing attention to ourselves. What’s with the –’ she waved her hand at me – ‘face?’ she finished.

  I’m one of those people whose face pretty much acts out what’s going on in my brain. I’m a bit of an open book that way. As I reached a hand up to my cheek, I realised my face must have been trying and failing to fathom what on earth had just happened.

  You see, I had just had the biggest shock ever. And if you’re wondering what on earth had got into me to make me act this way, just take a minute. Because the clues were all there. The truth had been right in front of me all along. Standing in front of me right now in fact.

  Some of you might have figured this out already. And if you have, then a gazillion points to you; you definitely have your eyes open enough to look after dragons. But anyone who’s looking as confused as Aura was, here’s the thing. The thing I absolutely needed to tell my friend. And here’s how I did it.

  9

  When the Clouds Clear

  The very first thing I did was leap off her bed and race over to her computer, where I started jabbing at the keyboard.

  ‘Just give me a sec,’ I said. ‘I need to be absolutely sure about this.’

  As soon as the words came up on the screen, I let out a little squeak and the breath I’d been holding.

  I sat there for a second, my brain whizzing and fizzing.

  ‘I think I know why you feel so at home at my nana and grandad’s,’ I blurted at last.

  Aura looked at me, curiosity etching tiny lines on her forehead and making her nose wrinkle.

  I had the distinct feeling she thought my recent behaviour was a bit of an over-reaction for this simple statement.

  ‘Well, the combination of your nana’s cooking and a dragon-fruit tree is pretty hard to beat, I guess.’

  ‘It’s not just that,’ I said quickly. ‘It’s your mum.’

  ‘Mamma?’

  ‘Her name’s Rosa?’

  ‘Yeah. That’s why I called this one Rosebud,’ she said, cradling her little dragon’s head in her hand.

  ‘And your grandma . . . you called her “Amma”, right?’

  ‘Yes. But that’s not her name. It’s just like grandma, but in –’

  ‘Icelandic. I know,’ I said, finishing the sentence before she could.

  ‘That’s right,’ Aura said sounding surprised and just a bit impressed. ‘Not many people know that.’

  ‘I didn’t either. That’s what I just looked up,’ I said, waving at the computer.

  ‘Look, what’s going on, Tomas?’

  ‘Your amma was from Iceland,’ I went on. ‘But she travelled all over the world. And she ended up . . .’ I paused, ‘here.’

  Aura looked confused. ‘In this little village, yeah. But so what?’

  Aura was looking utterly bewildered. But I’m guessing your brain has caught right up!

  ‘Your amma’s name was Elvi, wasn’t it?’ I said.

  Aura looked utterly flummoxed now.

  ‘The reason you feel so at home in my nana and grandad’s house is because I’m pretty sure you’ve been there before. With Elvi.’

  Aura still looked blank. I’d need to spell this out even clearer.

  ‘She lived there, Aura. It was her garden.’

  ‘That’s crazy,’ Aura said. ‘I’d know if I’d been there before.’

  ‘Not if you were really little. Anyway, I think perhaps you remember deep down. You told me about sloes growing there. You said yourself you didn’t know how you even knew what a sloe was. And you’ve always said how the kitchen felt friendly. I think that’s because it was already familiar.’

  Aura stared at me. Expressions swept across her face like clouds speeding across the sky. Confusion, disbelief and suspicion that I was somehow teasing, which led to a pretty stormy cloud of irritation.

  ‘It’s true,’ I said softly.

  ‘I don’t know, Tomas,’ she said after a minute. ‘I really don’t remember it. I think you must have made a mistake.’

  ‘I haven’t. I’m positive,’ I said. ‘And I can prove it.’ I pictured the photo I’d found when I first discovered Elvi had known about the dragons. ‘Your amma had a small tattoo of a dragon on her wrist, didn’t she?’

  Aura nodded slowly.

  ‘I know Elvi,’ I said. And then I added quietly, ‘I have her diaries.’

  On the way to Grandad’s garden I described the photo of Elvi standing in front of a wall from the Hidden City, with the exact same grin Aura’s mum had just flashed at me. Then I breathlessly rattled off the full story about finding the dragon-fruit tree, the encyclopedia in Grandad’s shed with Elvi’s name and discovering all the letters and photos. And finally I told her about the photo I’d found later of Elvi holding a little baby and the words ‘Sweet Rosa, 1979’. Aura’s eyes went wide at hearing all about this.

  I was sure if she could only stand in the garden again, she would remember.

  Red-faced and panting, we raced down the garden path, sending Nana and Grandad a wave through the kitchen window.

  We careered to a stop and I waited – jiggling like an expectant Lolli – waiting for the penny to well and truly drop.

  There was a moment of quiet while the garden seemed to hold its breath around us. Like it too was waiting for her to remember.

  I wasn’t sure if I should say anything – she’d gone into a little trance and was just staring at a bunch of red stalks sprouting out of the ground. But after a while she raised her hand, finger pointing at the stalks. Then she suddenly started jabbing her finger at them wildly.

  I watched as in that instant all the clouds cleared and Aura’s face lit up with the sunny glow of the truth.

  ‘Dogwood,’ she cried. ‘There were huge bushes of red dogwood.’ She spun round. ‘And there were more beehives than there are now. And two sheds, not just that one. And . . . and . . . we picked elderflowers from that tree and made cordial in the summer, and I had raspberry sorbet that stained my shorts. And we picked peas that I ate from the pods.’

  Aura grabbed my arms and jumped up and down in front of me. ‘I remember it, Tomas. All of it.’

  Laughing now, she dragged me around the garden recounting all the details tha
t had come flooding back into her mind.

  Eventually she stopped in front of the dragon-fruit tree. We both looked at the spiky cactus leaves. I don’t know why, but just for a split second I didn’t want to ask if she remembered the tree. Or the dragons.

  ‘I’ve always thought I was remembering stories,’ she said quietly. ‘Amma’s stories. But the dragons were real all along.’ She paused and looked at me.

  ‘We grew dragons!’

  10

  A Blurt and a Blunder

  ‘That’s incredible,’ said Ted later, when he and Liam came over.

  ‘Amazing,’ agreed Liam.

  I nodded and stuffed another handful of popcorn into my mouth while they wrapped their heads around the news that Aura was Elvi’s granddaughter.

  ‘So she remembers the dragons?’

  I nodded again. ‘She does now. It all came back to her in a rush once we were back in the garden.’

  ‘But Arturo’s not her grandad?’ Ted asked.

  ‘No. I wondered about that too. But her grandfather’s name was Miguel.’

  ‘Maybe Elvi met him through Arturo when she visited him in Mexico?’

  I shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Had Aura heard of Arturo?’ Ted asked.

  I shook my head.

  ‘Bit of a head-spinner for you, Tomas,’ Liam said.

  ‘For us all, I’d say,’ Ted pointed out, reaching for another chocolate biscuit.

  ‘Yeah, but especially Tomas. I mean he’s always been Grand High DragonMaster. Maybe we should start calling Aura “Queen of the Dragons”, like she always wanted.’

  ‘Queen of the Dragons,’ I whispered.

  My hand clutching the popcorn went limp and little kernels of puffed corn rained down onto the carpet like tiny fluffy clouds.

  Ted dug Liam in the ribs and laughed awkwardly. ‘Come on,’ he said, jumping to his feet and pulling me along with him. ‘Let’s go and raid the kitchen for some more of those biscuits, hey, Tomas?’

 

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