peek.”
As he led the way upstairs, every creak sounded like a cannon shot. He felt sure that Gruffen would appear at any moment, life-size, wings spread, forks of fire pouring out of his throat. But the door of the Dragons’ Den was ajar, and no guard dragon barred the way to it. David took a deep breath and pushed it open. “In you go; lady Goths first.”
Zanna walked in, gasping with a mixture of joy and astonishment much as David had done when he’d first seen the room. Shelf upon shelf of green-eyed dragons, all frozen in their various scaly poses. To David’s relief, Gruffen wasn’t on his usual perch. G’reth stood there instead, glazed and beautiful in his newness and looking terribly eager to be of assistance.
Zanna homed in on him straight away. “Oh, you gorgeous, gorgeous creature.”
“He’s mine, actually,” David said, with a modest streak of affiliated vanity. “I named him G’reth.”
“He’s fabulous,” said Zanna. “Very photogenic.”
“He’s a wishing dragon. You put your thumbs in his paws and make a wish.”
Zanna immediately had a try. “I wish some tall, mop-haired geography student would shower me with roses and whisk me into his open arms.”
A second went by. Zanna removed her thumbs. She smiled bashfully at David, whose face was like stone. “Hasn’t worked, has it?”
“Only the maker — that’s Lucy, who’s already had a go — and the owner are allowed a wish. And it has to be something beneficial.”
“Oh,” said Zanna, suitably chastened. “What did Lucy wish for, then?”
“Snow, as it happens.”
“It worked?” Zanna’s pupils blossomed like flowers.
“Zan-na?”
“You try.”
David screwed up his face. “I’m not playing wishing games.”
“It’s not a game, dummy. You’re raising his auma.
Believe.
Wish for something — about Gawain.”
“Such as?”
“Such as finding out where his
fire tear
is hidden?”
David stepped back, shaking his head. “No. That’s not a good idea.”
Not here,
he thought,
with all these dragons looking on.
Zanna grabbed him by the sleeve and tugged him forward. “The fact that you’re afraid of this only confirms you think it could happen. Do you want to know the truth or not?”
David sighed and looked away.
This is ridiculous,
he told himself. It won’t work. It can’t work. A wishing dragon? It was the stuff of fairy tales. But knowing he’d get no peace until he tried, he touched his thumbs to G’reth’s smooth paws.
“Careful,” whispered Zanna, “you’re making him wobble.”
David steadied his hands and tried again. “I wish,” he whispered, “that I knew the secret of Gawain’s fire tear.”
He drew away, into the silence. Not a
hrrr
could be heard. Not a scale was rattled. He peered about the room. Not a purple eye in sight.
Phew.
“Oh, well,” shrugged Zanna. “It was worth a try.”
“Um,” David grunted, and closed his eyes briefly, trying to picture Gadzooks. And that was when he knew that all was not well. The dragon had lowered his pencil and pad and was rolling his eyes in search of something, as if some force was about to descend. Something was coming.
Something bad.
“Zanna —” David turned to tell her, but she had moved across the room to another long shelf.
“These are sweet,” she said, bending forward to examine a row of baby dragons, all breaking out of their eggs.
“Best-sellers, for expectant moms. Listen, I —”
“Here’s one that hasn’t hatched.” Zanna picked up a fully formed egg, nestling in a stand of intertwining sticks. It was bronze in color and had a slightly pitted surface.
“Zanna, put it down. Liz’ll go nuts if you break anything.”
“I won’t drop it,” she said, cupping the egg very close to her breast. “It’s very relaxing, holding this. It makes me feel … I don’t know. Warm.”
“Well, cool off quick and put it back. We should leave. I’ve got a feeling that something’s not right.”
But
As he led the way upstairs, every creak sounded like a cannon shot. He felt sure that Gruffen would appear at any moment, life-size, wings spread, forks of fire pouring out of his throat. But the door of the Dragons’ Den was ajar, and no guard dragon barred the way to it. David took a deep breath and pushed it open. “In you go; lady Goths first.”
Zanna walked in, gasping with a mixture of joy and astonishment much as David had done when he’d first seen the room. Shelf upon shelf of green-eyed dragons, all frozen in their various scaly poses. To David’s relief, Gruffen wasn’t on his usual perch. G’reth stood there instead, glazed and beautiful in his newness and looking terribly eager to be of assistance.
Zanna homed in on him straight away. “Oh, you gorgeous, gorgeous creature.”
“He’s mine, actually,” David said, with a modest streak of affiliated vanity. “I named him G’reth.”
“He’s fabulous,” said Zanna. “Very photogenic.”
“He’s a wishing dragon. You put your thumbs in his paws and make a wish.”
Zanna immediately had a try. “I wish some tall, mop-haired geography student would shower me with roses and whisk me into his open arms.”
A second went by. Zanna removed her thumbs. She smiled bashfully at David, whose face was like stone. “Hasn’t worked, has it?”
“Only the maker — that’s Lucy, who’s already had a go — and the owner are allowed a wish. And it has to be something beneficial.”
“Oh,” said Zanna, suitably chastened. “What did Lucy wish for, then?”
“Snow, as it happens.”
“It worked?” Zanna’s pupils blossomed like flowers.
“Zan-na?”
“You try.”
David screwed up his face. “I’m not playing wishing games.”
“It’s not a game, dummy. You’re raising his auma.
Believe.
Wish for something — about Gawain.”
“Such as?”
“Such as finding out where his
fire tear
is hidden?”
David stepped back, shaking his head. “No. That’s not a good idea.”
Not here,
he thought,
with all these dragons looking on.
Zanna grabbed him by the sleeve and tugged him forward. “The fact that you’re afraid of this only confirms you think it could happen. Do you want to know the truth or not?”
David sighed and looked away.
This is ridiculous,
he told himself. It won’t work. It can’t work. A wishing dragon? It was the stuff of fairy tales. But knowing he’d get no peace until he tried, he touched his thumbs to G’reth’s smooth paws.
“Careful,” whispered Zanna, “you’re making him wobble.”
David steadied his hands and tried again. “I wish,” he whispered, “that I knew the secret of Gawain’s fire tear.”
He drew away, into the silence. Not a
hrrr
could be heard. Not a scale was rattled. He peered about the room. Not a purple eye in sight.
Phew.
“Oh, well,” shrugged Zanna. “It was worth a try.”
“Um,” David grunted, and closed his eyes briefly, trying to picture Gadzooks. And that was when he knew that all was not well. The dragon had lowered his pencil and pad and was rolling his eyes in search of something, as if some force was about to descend. Something was coming.
Something bad.
“Zanna —” David turned to tell her, but she had moved across the room to another long shelf.
“These are sweet,” she said, bending forward to examine a row of baby dragons, all breaking out of their eggs.
“Best-sellers, for expectant moms. Listen, I —”
“Here’s one that hasn’t hatched.” Zanna picked up a fully formed egg, nestling in a stand of intertwining sticks. It was bronze in color and had a slightly pitted surface.
“Zanna, put it down. Liz’ll go nuts if you break anything.”
“I won’t drop it,” she said, cupping the egg very close to her breast. “It’s very relaxing, holding this. It makes me feel … I don’t know. Warm.”
“Well, cool off quick and put it back. We should leave. I’ve got a feeling that something’s not right.”
But
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