‘Maxi and Dodger started racing,’ Kat said. ‘And Dodger took this shortcut and it took him close to the village hall. Only there was someone outside. We don’t know if they actually spotted him. But even if they didn’t, it was too close.’

  ‘Which is why Kat ordered the dragons to stay away,’ Kai explained.

  ‘I didn’t have a choice,’ Kat said desperately. ‘I told Crystal they all need to keep a low profile, just for a bit, in case anyone did see something and starts looking more closely.’

  ‘You told Crystal that?’ I asked.

  She nodded sadly. ‘It won’t have to be forever, Tomas. Just until it’s safe for them.’

  ‘That’s all well and good,’ said Liam, breaking the silence that followed, ‘but how do we let them know it’s safe? They might never come back.’

  You know when you wake up and think it’s the weekend and then you get that blast of disappointment when you realise it’s actually a Tuesday. Well, for once I had that feeling when I woke up on an actual Saturday. And what’s more, a Saturday at the start of a school holiday. Not because I suddenly had extra holiday lessons of grammar with Mr Firth (although how nightmarish would that be?) but because my head was full of worries about Flicker. My dragon hadn’t come to me in the night. Not even in my dreams.

  I kept telling myself that I was wrong to worry. After all, Flicker had come back without the other dragons once himself and had seemed happy to take me and Zing for a ride. There was no reason to think he felt left out now Zing was with me. Maybe there was some other reason he hadn’t returned. Except what that might be also made my head spin off in all kinds of wildly unsettling directions.

  Of course now Kat had told the dragons to keep away, I had no way of finding out the truth. And the trouble was, I couldn’t get rid of the little worm in my ear. The one muttering, ‘What if Liam is right? What if they never come back?’

  When I got to Nana and Grandad’s I found Grandad happily pruning some roses and whistling away.

  ‘You OK, Chipstick?’ he said, seeing me. ‘Ready to do battle with the wreckage? You’re right about dragons being a lot more trouble than cucumbers! One of them keeps making a right old mess of my raspberry nets.’

  He looked around for the others.

  ‘Hang on, where’s the rest of the bunch?’

  ‘Busy,’ I said flatly.

  ‘What are they so busy with?’

  ‘Stuff.’

  Grandad nodded. ‘Bloomin’ stuff. It don’t half get in the way sometimes.’

  He wasn’t wrong there. My grand plans for half-term had been well and truly flattened thanks to Kat and Kai being whisked away to visit relatives all week, Liam staying in Scotland with his granny and Ted on a week’s barge holiday in France.

  ‘Give us a sec and I’ll give you a hand,’ Grandad said.

  ‘It’s fine,’ I replied. ‘I’ll manage.’

  I started picking up beanpoles and flowerpots that had been knocked flying, muttering to myself.

  Grandad said sometimes the best way to get rid of a grump is with a bit of elbow grease. Meaning get busy with a job and you’d soon forget to be cross.

  But I wasn’t convinced elbow grease would work this time.

  After half an hour of tidying and grumbling away to myself, this grump was bigger and badder than ever. A great big smelly toad of a grump that squatted on the ground, girruping grump slime over everything I touched.

  ‘Right, Chipstick,’ Grandad said. ‘Enough’s enough. Spill those beans.’

  ‘What beans?’ I said, looking around the garden.

  ‘The ones you’re carrying around, that are weighing you down. Come on – time for a biscuit and a natter. You can tell me what’s got you looking like a wet weekend.’

  So as Grandad headed into the shed to fetch the tin and a flask of sweet milky tea, I put down my spade and perched on the old bench.

  When he came back he held out the tin, crammed with home-made ginger biscuits and squares of flapjack. I took one of each, resting them on my knees as I warmed my hands around the mug of tea he’d poured for me. For a minute or two he just left me alone to drink my tea and nibble on my biscuit. There was never any rush with Grandad. And maybe that’s why I always ended up telling him in the end.

  ‘Why do things have to change?’ I said quietly.

  Grandad gave a chuckle. ‘Well, that’s a pretty big question for elevenses.’ He handed me another biscuit.

  ‘Things were great,’ I said. ‘I’ve got four best friends. We grow dragons. We even ride dragons. We do everything together and we always have. Why does it have to go and change?’

  ‘I’m guessing you’re not too happy about Kat and Kai upping sticks and moving away?’

  ‘It’s bad enough having a week without them all here. What am I going to do when they leave for good?’

  ‘Your little band of buddies has been through a lot together. They’re a good bunch.’

  ‘The best,’ I said. ‘Or we were.’

  ‘And you still are – and will be,’ Grandad said. ‘No question about that. You don’t need to be in each other’s pockets for that to be true. Good friends stick.’

  ‘I know, I know – like jam tarts,’ I said.

  ‘Absolutely. But you’re right, things do change. Nothing stays the same forever.’

  ‘But why can’t it?’ I said. ‘I want it to.’

  Grandad scooched closer and put his arm round my shoulder, giving me a squeeze.

  ‘Look at this garden,’ he said. ‘What have we grown? Radishes, beans, strawberries, onions, raspberries, leeks, lettuces … oh, and a few dragons. And what have they all got in common?’

  I dug my foot down into a clod of mud and shrugged.

  ‘They all grew,’ he said. ‘If nothing changed, nothing would grow. And things need to grow. Even us.’

  By the end of the afternoon, thanks to a combination of biscuits, digging and Grandad’s twinkliness shining on me, I felt a good deal better. But sadly it didn’t last.

  I was just passing the little playground by the village hall when Aura ran up and roared at me. I was concentrating so hard on how to keep the superhero squad together long distance that I pretty much jumped into the hedge.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ she said, pulling a twig out of my hair. ‘You’re ever so jumpy.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you did just leap out at me,’ I said a bit crossly. ‘I was thinking, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve been thinking too,’ she said. ‘I’ve been thinking that Miss Jelinski is totally wrong.’

  I sighed. We’d had days of Aura trying to convince Miss Jelinski and Mr Firth that in the school play of Little Red Riding Hood we should update it and have a dragon rather than a wolf. The dragon to be played by Aura, of course.

  ‘It’s all that Mr Firth’s fault. Miss Jelinski loves dragons almost as much as I do. I bet she’d let me if she could. If we all asked they’d have to say yes. What do you think? Do you reckon we can start a class petition?’

  ‘I doubt Mr Firth would listen even if the Queen asked him,’ I said, really hoping she’d stop going on about it.

  ‘Well, I’m the Queen of Dragons, so maybe he’ll listen to me. And I’d do a brilliant job. Miss Jelinski already told me I know more about dragons than anyone she’s ever met.’

  I know I shouldn’t have cared, but this really bugged me. I carried on walking though.

  ‘I mean, apart from already having the costume,’ Aura went on proudly, spreading her imaginary wings. ‘Dragons are way more fierce and scary than a silly old wolf – anyone knows that.’

  I stopped and turned to face her.

  ‘Actually that’s not true.’

  ‘Course it is. I’ve read all the books. Dragons are fierce.’

  ‘No, they’re not.’

  ‘Are too.’

  ‘Are not.’

  I suddenly felt as if I was channelling my inner Lolli, all set to stamp my feet at her. Honestly, she had been doing this ever since she’d arrived, acting like a complete know-it-all.

  ‘You don’t know everything about dragons, you know,’ I said.

  ‘Course I do. I’ve always loved dragons. I’ve got more books and toys and dragon stuff than anyone.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean you know everything. I know stuff too. And I know that not all dragons are fierce.’

  She frowned and took a deep breath as if she was going to have to be really patient with a very small and annoying person.

  ‘You’re just jealous,’ she said simply. She turned to walk away, nose in the air, then looked back over her shoulder and added, ‘And wrong.’

  You know when someone just presses that button on your head – the big red button that sets off all the alarms and stuff? And you feel as if your whole body has been blasted with fiery heat and it wants to shoot out of you, and if it doesn’t you are going to explode.

  Well, Aura had just pressed That Button.

  Instead of actually exploding though, I said the one thing I really, really shouldn’t have.

  ‘You know what?’ I spluttered. ‘You’re wrong. And what’s more, I can prove it.’

  Now what I should have done was rush after those words that had barged their way out, scoop them up and jam them back in my mouth. And then I should have kept it well and truly shut.

  But I didn’t. At that moment all I wanted to do was prove to Aura how wrong she was. I was going to show her exactly who was Grand High DragonMaster round here. I stomped my way home, Aura hurrying along behind, asking over and over again what I meant by that.

  ‘You’ll see,’ is all I said.

  She followed me into the house, not even blinking when we passed Mum, Dad and Lolli in the hall, their hair sticking up like they’d all been wrestling their way out of a hedge, which given that Mum was cradling an angry-looking Tomtom, maybe they had.

  Upstairs, I flung my bedroom door open, marched over to my bed and crouched down. Spotting Zing curled up and sleeping, I pointed in triumph at the little dragon.

  Aura, too far away to see him, looked at me like I was completely barmy. I pointed again, knowing that any second she was going to be eating her words with a big slice of toasted humble pie and sprinklings of sorry.

  She took a step towards me, dodging the scattered piles of Lego, the shredded wreckage of six of my comics and what I suddenly realised was a pair of my scorched pants. I darted forward and kicked them behind my beanbag, hoping she hadn’t seen.

  When I turned back, she was leaning down, peering under the bed, her mouth hanging open.

  ‘It’s … it’s … it’s … a dragon,’ she finally stammered.

  ‘Yup,’ I said, satisfied. ‘He totally is.’

  Before I could stop her, Aura had leaned in further, her hand reaching out to touch the little sleeping dragon. Zing’s sapphire eye snapped open and, seeing the outstretched fingers and Aura’s face peering at him, he practically exploded out from under the bed. Like he was turbo-charged. He rocketed up to the ceiling and began flapping round in frantic loops, wings crashing into things and sending out crackling sparks.

  ‘This is unreal,’ she said as she watched him. ‘Like totally, pinch me, whack me round the face with a wet fish, tell me I’m dreaming, unreal.’

  I couldn’t help but give a snort of laughter at that.

  ‘And totally, utterly, mind-bendingly awesome,’ she added, grinning. And she ducked as Zing batted a Lego model off my shelf and sent it flying and crashing into the wall.

  ‘How?’ she said. ‘How is this possible?’

  ‘Dragons aren’t just in stories, you know,’ I said.

  She paused for a second and then, looking serious, mimed taking something off her head. She handed the something to me, reverently. And when I looked bemused, she motioned for me to take it.

  ‘My crown,’ she said. ‘I think we have a new King of the Dragons.’

  Strangely, hearing her say that didn’t feel quite as good as I’d hoped.

  The trouble was, I hadn’t planned to reveal the secret that I had a dragon. It was a blurt. An uncontrolled blurt. And that lump of blurt was now lying leaden in my stomach, heavier than Mum’s jam roly-poly pudding. I knew the superhero squad would be furious with me for telling Aura. Especially after I’d made such a big deal out of saying that we shouldn’t. If there was still a superhero squad, then had I just risked being booted out of it?

  ‘So, tell me,’ she said, flopping onto my bed, her eyes not leaving Zing for a second. ‘I want to know everything.’

  The thing I was discovering about Aura was that she was persistent. Actually scrap that. Very persistent. And good at getting her way. She also made me feel like I actually was King of the Dragons and should have a crown.

  So without meaning to, I may have told her a few things – about the dragon-fruit tree, and how I found it in Grandad’s garden, and about Flicker.

  Big flappy mouth that I have. At least I stopped myself before I got to the bit about Elvi and how we all started growing dragons, and about Liam’s super-sizing adventures, and Lolli growing Tinkle. But if I thought not mentioning the others having dragons would help, I was wrong.

  Because a second later, she said exactly what Ted had said the first day he’d met Flicker. And just like that, my stomach did a lolloping lurch. And if you don’t remember what that was, just imagine what you would say if you were shown a dragon and told they grow on trees. Yup, you got it.

  ‘Hey, can I grow one too then?’

  Aura sat watching me as I wrestled with the thoughts that were whirling around inside my head. She positively zinged with excitement, just like Zing in fact.

  ‘Well?’ she said. ‘Can I? Can I?’

  The answer of course was no – we’d been through all that and we’d learned that keeping dragons wasn’t good for them or us. Though with Zing flapping round my room I didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. But it wasn’t like I’d intended for him to stay.

  ‘Pleeeeeeeeaaase,’ she begged again.

  I could tell she wouldn’t stop asking. I thought about the last crop of dragons hatching and how there wouldn’t be any ripe fruit now, not for a little while.

  ‘I’ll show you the tree tomorrow,’ I said finally.

  Aura gave a whoop of delight and started dancing round the room, sending Zing off on another frenzied bout of somersaults.

  She obviously had the same turbo-boost setting as Zing. And I knew that in the long run I’d need the superhero squad to back me up. Of course, for that to happen, I’d have to admit that I’d blurted out the truth about the dragons. My stomach did a little undulation, like a blubbery seal flolloping over the ice. And as Aura skipped off home – and that’s not a joke; she actually skipped with joy like Lolli does – the seal slid miserably into the frozen depths, taking my stomach with it.

  ‘Hello,’ said Nana as I brought Aura into their kitchen the next day. ‘There’s a face I haven’t seen before.’

  ‘I’m Aura.’ She smiled. ‘That smells delicious.’ She leaned over the pan Nana was stirring.

  ‘Well, now, the amount Tomas’s grandad grows, I needed a plan. And that plan,’ she chortled, ‘is jam. There’s only so much crumble this lot can eat. Me and Lolli are going to sell it at the school fête this year – I’m sure we’ll raise lots of money for charity. Everyone loves jam.’

  ‘Sounds like a great plan to me,’ Aura said.

  ‘Where’s Grandad?’ I asked.

  ‘He’s off on a mission to find some more worms. I’d have thought there’d be enough in that there garden. But he had his own plan.’

  Leaving Nana to her jammy exploits, I led Aura out the back door and down the path towards the crooked apple trees.

  ‘That jam smells amazing,’ she said dreamily. ‘I love your nana’s kitchen. It’s really …’ she paused, searching for the word, ‘friendly.’

  I smiled, remembering all the family meals we’d had round the table, Nana heaping our plates with Sunday roasts, stew and dumplings and sweet sticky puddings. The amount of custard we’d consumed in that room would probably fill a lake. I wandered into my own dream of creamy yellow waterfalls flowing over plains of crumble and boulders of chocolate sponge.

  ‘I see what your nana means about all the fruit,’ Aura said pointing at the trees. ‘And look – a blackthorn tree. You should pick the sloes – blackberry and sloe jam is delicious.’

  ‘Grandad would be impressed – I didn’t know what a sloe was until I started working in his garden.’

  Aura suddenly looked puzzled.

  ‘Do you know,’ she said, ‘I impress myself sometimes. I didn’t even know I knew what a sloe was. It’s funny – this garden reminds me of somewhere. All the fruit trees and beehives.’ She gazed around her, suddenly lost in thought.

  ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘The tree’s over here.’

  She grinned and skipped over to join me, leaving the fruit trees waving behind us.

  Standing in front of the dragon-fruit tree, Aura’s face lit up. She stared at the draping cactus leaves and peered in at the hairy trunk. And she grinned madly when I pointed out one of the spiky fruits. Thankfully I’d been right and all the fruits we could see were green, which meant there wouldn’t be any dragons hatching for a while yet. I felt myself relax a bit.

  ‘This is the coolest-looking tree ever,’ she said. ‘It looks like you made it up in your head, Tomas.’

  I laughed. ‘I know. It even has these yellow and orange tendrils that shoot out like a burst of flames. And ginormous moon-white flowers that only bloom for one night.’

  ‘See?’ She laughed. ‘It’s like a fairy-tale tree.’

  She leaned in closer and touched one of the fruits gently.

  ‘Except it’s real, isn’t it? And the dragons are real too.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Magic,’ she whispered.

  And it was exactly at that moment that the fruit she was touching began to glow.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11