The Return of the Dragon (12 page)

His eyes grew soft as if he were looking at something much loved and far away.

“Long ago when I was a boy in China, I saved her egg when an earthquake threw it from its Resting Place. I have been most honored.”

“But I don’t understand,” Sarah Emily said. “You’re a Dragon Friend. Why are you working with Mr. King?”

“He had heard of my studies, and he traveled to meet me in Beijing,” Mr. Chang said. “He hinted of a marvelous discovery. A dragon — a Great One — living hidden on an island in America. We arrived here and our search began. The members of the crew were kept in the dark. They were never told what they were looking for. Rare geological deposits were suggested, and there was some mention of passenger pigeons. I alone knew the nature of Mr. King’s quest, but only recently did I discover what his true intentions were. But by then I could do nothing but watch and prepare to interfere when the proper time came.”

“I think the proper time has come,” Hannah said, sounding stronger.

“If only we’re not too late,” Sarah Emily said urgently.

“Trust the dragon,” Mr. Chang said.

By now they had reached the great rock steps. Zachary and Mr. King were high above them, nearing the shelf that edged around the hillside to the broad platform overlooking the sea.

“Hurry,”
Sarah Emily said fiercely. “They’re almost there.”

They scrambled frantically from rock to rock, the girls in front, Mr. Chang gamely following behind.

“Someone’s yelling,” Hannah said suddenly.

“It’s Zachary!” said Sarah Emily.

They dashed around the last turn of the ledge and stumbled out onto the broad stone platform. Mr. King and Zachary stood at the entrance to the cave. Both looked red-faced and furious.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mr. King was saying angrily. “And keep your voice down! You might alarm the creature! Don’t you understand? That animal is priceless! Priceless! You young fools have no idea what you have here!”

Mr. Chang had a hand pressed to his chest and was panting for breath.

“Keep them quiet while we enter the cave, Chang,” Mr. King snapped.

Then, abruptly, he seemed to change his mind.

“No, come along, all of you,” he ordered. “You children can lead the way. If the beast is as fond of you as you appear to be of it, you should make quite effective human shields. Breathing fire in an enclosed space is quite lethal, you know. I feel certain that your reptilian friend will be too wise to risk your lives.”

He pushed Zachary toward the entrance of the cave and gestured impatiently at Hannah and Sarah Emily to follow.

“Follow me, Chang,” Mr. King said.

Reluctantly, huddled close together, the three children entered the dragon’s cave. Usually as they stepped into the cinnamon-scented darkness, they were filled with a Christmas-morning sense of delighted anticipation. Today they felt nothing but despair. There was the scratchy sound of a zipper as Zachary opened his backpack and groped for his flashlight. He pulled it out and switched it on. At the same time, behind them, Mr. King flicked on a larger and more powerful beam. They moved slowly downward, descending into the depths of the cave.

“He’s a Dragon Friend,” Hannah muttered hastily to Zachary. “Mr. Chang is. He’s on our side.”

“But what will we
do
?” Sarah Emily whispered desperately.

“Maybe Fafnyr will think of something,” Hannah whispered back. “Mr. Chang said to trust the dragon.”

“Fafnyr can’t think of something if he’s taken by surprise,” Zachary whispered. “We have to warn him.”

“But
how
?” Hannah whispered. “He’ll be asleep.”

“Quiet!” Mr. King ordered sharply from behind them.

“Let’s run ahead,” Sarah Emily whispered. “And yell as loud as we can. It’s the best we can do. At least it will give Fafnyr a chance.”

“Quiet!”
Mr. King hissed.

“All right,” Zachary whispered. “Let’s do it. On the count of three.”

“We’re almost there,” Hannah whispered. “Ready? One. Two.
Three!
”

The children sprang forward, darting away from Mr. King, feet thumping on the uneven stone floor, shouting at the top of their lungs.

“Fafnyr! Danger!”

“Fafnyr! Wake up!”

“Fafnyr! Look out!!”

Behind them they could hear Mr. Chang running and roaring a warning too.

There was a sound of rapid movement in the darkness, a thunderous clatter, a sharp hiss, and a brilliant flash of gold. The cave burst into light. The dragon stood toweringly erect in the center of the cave, its golden wings outspread. All three heads were awake. The three pairs of eyes, brilliant green, blue, and silver, glared at J.P. King.

Mr. King took a step backward, fumbling in his leather shoulder bag. He gave the dragon a measuring look, his glance sweeping from the three towering heads to the flared golden wings to the tip of the gleaming arrow-pointed tail.

“Impressive,” Mr. King said. “And much larger than I had imagined.” A gloating note crept into his voice. “Very impressive indeed.”

“I fear that my impression of you is not the same,” the green-eyed head said coldly.

Mr. King took another step back, and pulled an ugly-looking dart gun out of his bag.

“This will be quite quick and painless,” he said.

Sarah Emily, horrified, clung to the dragon’s side. “Can’t you fly away?” she whispered desperately.

The three golden heads lifted slowly in unison. Three pairs of eyes, green, blue, and silver, stared fixedly into the eyes of Mr. King.

“The space is not sufficient for flying,” the blue-eyed head said.

“And we are not, primarily, a land animal,” said the silver. “On foot, we waddle.”

“We have other methods,” the green-eyed head said.

“Don’t look,” Hannah suddenly whispered. “Don’t look. Remember how Fafnyr can make people forget?”

The children had learned last summer about this mysterious power of dragons, the ability to wipe away memory. The dragon’s eyes glowed like fiery jewels, emerald-green, sapphire-blue, and a diamond-bright sparkle of silver. Mr. King stood like a stone, his arms dangling at his sides. The dart gun slipped from his limp fingers and clattered to the floor.

“He has forgotten us and this cave,” the blue-eyed head said tiredly.

“Remove that . . . peculiar weapon,” the silver-eyed head said.

Mr. Chang hurried forward, picked up the dart gun, and stuffed it into one of the deep pockets of his jacket.

“I will dispose of it safely later,” he said.

Mr. King stood motionless, his eyes vague and unfocused, his mouth slightly open.

“He’s like a zombie,” Zachary said. “Will he be OK?”

The three heads nodded. Then they moved close together. Thoughts seemed to pass rapidly from one to the other. The golden wings drew in and folded. The dragon’s body settled to the floor. Then two of the heads slowly curled downward, positioning themselves on the dragon’s shoulders. Green and blue eyes closed. The heads were asleep. The silver-eyed head remained awake, gazing sadly at Mr. King.

“He is quite well,” the silver-eyed head said. “He will recover shortly. You must take him away. Lead him back to the beach.”

“Fafnyr, this is Mr. Chang,” Hannah said hastily, remembering her manners.

“I am honored, Dragon Friend,” the dragon said.

Mr. Chang bowed low.

“As am I,” he said.

“You were all awake at the same time,” Sarah Emily said suddenly. “All three of you. I didn’t know you could do that.”

The golden head nodded regretfully. “In times of great danger,” it said. It heaved a weary sigh. “So dispiriting,” it said. “I feel quite drained.”

The head sank slowly to the floor, and the silver eyes began to close.

“You will have to excuse me,” the dragon said. “So exhausting . . .”

The silver eyes narrowed to glowing slits.

“But all’s well that ends well,” the dragon murmured. “Or so they say.”

The eyes closed. The cave grew dark.

“Where’s my flashlight?” Zachary said. There was a sound of scrabbling and then the click of a switch. The light moved from face to face, flickered over the sleeping golden bulk of the dragon, and then steadied on the silent Mr. King.

“Let’s get him out of here,” Hannah said. “Before he wakes up.”

Mr. King caused no trouble. He followed the children and Mr. Chang as if he were a robot, doing as they did, edging around the rocky shelf that surrounded the crest of Drake’s Hill, climbing down the stone steps, and docilely following them down the grassy slope of the hill to the sandy beach. Beyond them, on the gray water, the white yacht rode at anchor. Mr. King stood facing the water, staring blankly at nothing.

“What now?” Sarah Emily said. “Mr. Chang can’t take him back acting like this.”

“Look,” Zachary said. “I think he’s waking up.”

Mr. King suddenly shook his head as if he were dazed. He rubbed a hand confusedly across his eyes. Then he looked at the children and smiled as if he had never seen them before.

“How do you do?” Mr. King said. “My name is J.P. King, and this is my compatriot Mr. Chang. We were just passing by”— he waved a hand toward the ocean —“touring in my yacht. This is a beautiful island. Are visitors allowed?”

The children stared at him dumbly for a moment.

Hannah swallowed. Then she said, “No, I’m so sorry. This is a private island. It belongs to our great-great-aunt, who does not allow any visitors.”

“A pity,” Mr. King said. “But I can see why she should want to keep such a lovely place unspoiled. We must be going, Chang.”

He nodded briskly to the children, then walked across the beach toward the little white motorboat that had been dragged up onto the shore.

Mr. Chang lingered behind. Quietly he turned to the children and bowed.

“You are worthy Dragon Friends,” he said. “I will be in touch.”

“What will you tell the crew?” Sarah Emily asked.

Mr. Chang gave her a small enigmatic smile.

“I will tell them,” he said in his gentle whispery voice, “that Mr. King was sadly mistaken about the island. There was nothing here of interest after all.”

A letter arrived from Aunt Mehitabel, written in raspberry-pink ink, filled with underlinings and praise:

The vacation was nearly over. Mother and Father were flying from London to Boston and would arrive on the next day. Then they would drive to Chadwick to meet the children and Mr. Jones. It was almost time to leave the island.

“I don’t think we managed so beautifully,” Zachary said. “Fafnyr almost got captured.”

“But he wasn’t,” Sarah Emily said.

Hannah sighed. “I know what you mean,” she said. “I don’t think we did very well on the reasoning parts. You know, weighing all the alternatives and stuff.”

“Zachary figured out who Mr. King really was,” said Sarah Emily.

“That was just lucky,” Zachary said.

“We’ve got time for one last visit to Drake’s Hill,” Hannah said.

“Fafnyr’s probably asleep,” said Zachary.

“I don’t care,” Sarah Emily said. “Let’s go anyway. I just want to see him. I want to see that he’s all right.”

“After all that’s happened,” said Zachary, “I wouldn’t blame him if he decided to leave the cave forever.”

The day, their last on the island, was gray and gloomy. The beach was shrouded in fog. They climbed the stone steps leading to the top of Drake’s Hill and circled the shelf leading to the broad platform above the ocean. The water below them was gray, cold, and empty. The white yacht was gone. Switching on the flashlight, the three children quietly entered the dragon’s cave. They walked slowly inward and downward, the flashlight swooping to and fro, waiting to see the first flash of gold. Then there it was, suddenly, in the darkness, the dazzle and glitter of dragon scales. But the great dragon did not awaken. There was no movement on the cave floor, no light-blooming flame.

“Maybe he just doesn’t want to speak to us anymore,” said Hannah.

“That would be terrible,” said Sarah Emily. Her voice quavered.

“Let’s leave him a note,” said Zachary. “He’ll find it when he wakes up. We can tell him that we tried to do our best.”

“That we’re sorry we ever listened to Mr. King,” Hannah said. “That we should have protected him better.”

“No,” Sarah Emily said suddenly. “Don’t say that. Just tell him that we love him always and we hope we’ll see him again soon.”

They wrote the note on a page torn out of Zachary’s notebook. Each of the children signed his or her name.