Read Online The Search for the Red Dragon by James A. Owen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James A. Owen
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from being used in greater evil. But that wasn’t the choice you wanted to make, so you didn’t.”
“That’s all well and good,” Jack said, “but it still irritates me to no end that the option didn’t at least occur to us. Maybe all we needed to alter were a few key maps, or the summoning….
“Say,” he said, tapping John’s foot. “Why don’t we give it a try, just for the sake of scientific experimentation? We can pick a minor map and ink in a ‘No Trespassing’ sign or a unicorn or some such. What do you say, John?”
Bert groaned and slapped his forehead. “Spinning in his grave. I’m certain Stellan is just spinning in his grave. I’d havebeen better off leaving the book with Harry and Arthur.”
However irritated he tried to sound, Bert also produced a quill and a bottle of ink, which he proffered to Charles with a barely disguised grin.
“Okay, John,” said Charles. “Let’s have it. Time to deface a little history.”
“Now, I’m not going to just…,” John began, before a strange expression came over his face. “Um.”
Jack looked from Charles to John and back again, shrugging.
“Where did you put it when you brought it aboard?” Bert asked over his shoulder. “In the cabin, perhaps?”
“You did bring it aboard, didn’t you, John?” said Jack.
“Oh dear,” murmured Charles. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.”
“The Imaginarium Geographica ,” John said with rising horror. “It’s…it’s…”
“Don’t tell me you’ve lost it,” said Bert.
“Nothing of the sort,” John stated. “I know precisely where it is.”
Jack and Charles looked at each other in disbelief as the meaning of John’s words sank in.
The Imaginarium Geographica was exactly where they had left it when they arrived in London—next to Laura Glue’s wings, safely covered with academic papers in the boot of John’s car.
John spent the remainder of the short voyage to Avalon pacing the foredeck and cursing to himself in Anglo-Saxon. The crew of fauns exchanged glances of “different dance, same song” and kept working to keep the ship in order. Bert, Jack, and Charles huddled around the wheel to discuss this awkward turn of events.
“Can we go back for it?” asked Jack. “We’ll have lost only a few hours….”
“Hours I’m afraid we cannot spare,” said Bert. “Remember—the Indigo Dragon is, for the time being, the only Dragonship available to the Silver Throne, and the only ship left that is able to cross the Frontier.
“Inconvenient as it may be, we will have to do without the original Geographica , and hope that no circumstance arises in which it is needed.”
“Original Geographica ?” Charles exclaimed. “I don’t understand.”
Bert grinned. “Do you recall your little friend Tummeler? He was as good as his word—he published a facsimile edition of the Imaginarium Geographica , and practically everyone in the Archipelago has a copy now.
“It’s nowhere near as complete as the original, of course,” he continued, “but it’s annotated in English, and shows all the major islands. It would do in a pinch.”
“Good Old Tummeler,” said Charles. “I’ve often thought of him—usually during breakfast. Never looked at a muffin in the same way since, I can tell you.”
John finally quit pacing and approached the others. “There was a lot going on, you’ll remember,” he said apologetically. “In all the confusion and commotion…”
“Five ham sandwiches,” stated Jack. “That’s all I’m going to say about confusion and commotion and no time to retrieve the Geographica . The Caretaker Bloody Principia.”
“All right, Jack,” Charles said quickly. “No need for language.”
“Avalon, ho,” said Bert, pointing. “We’re at the boundary. Let’s get off here and collect ourselves, and then we’ll decide what to do next.”
Once the ship had been anchored to a spot on the sloping hill above the beach, the companions climbed
“That’s all well and good,” Jack said, “but it still irritates me to no end that the option didn’t at least occur to us. Maybe all we needed to alter were a few key maps, or the summoning….
“Say,” he said, tapping John’s foot. “Why don’t we give it a try, just for the sake of scientific experimentation? We can pick a minor map and ink in a ‘No Trespassing’ sign or a unicorn or some such. What do you say, John?”
Bert groaned and slapped his forehead. “Spinning in his grave. I’m certain Stellan is just spinning in his grave. I’d havebeen better off leaving the book with Harry and Arthur.”
However irritated he tried to sound, Bert also produced a quill and a bottle of ink, which he proffered to Charles with a barely disguised grin.
“Okay, John,” said Charles. “Let’s have it. Time to deface a little history.”
“Now, I’m not going to just…,” John began, before a strange expression came over his face. “Um.”
Jack looked from Charles to John and back again, shrugging.
“Where did you put it when you brought it aboard?” Bert asked over his shoulder. “In the cabin, perhaps?”
“You did bring it aboard, didn’t you, John?” said Jack.
“Oh dear,” murmured Charles. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.”
“The Imaginarium Geographica ,” John said with rising horror. “It’s…it’s…”
“Don’t tell me you’ve lost it,” said Bert.
“Nothing of the sort,” John stated. “I know precisely where it is.”
Jack and Charles looked at each other in disbelief as the meaning of John’s words sank in.
The Imaginarium Geographica was exactly where they had left it when they arrived in London—next to Laura Glue’s wings, safely covered with academic papers in the boot of John’s car.
John spent the remainder of the short voyage to Avalon pacing the foredeck and cursing to himself in Anglo-Saxon. The crew of fauns exchanged glances of “different dance, same song” and kept working to keep the ship in order. Bert, Jack, and Charles huddled around the wheel to discuss this awkward turn of events.
“Can we go back for it?” asked Jack. “We’ll have lost only a few hours….”
“Hours I’m afraid we cannot spare,” said Bert. “Remember—the Indigo Dragon is, for the time being, the only Dragonship available to the Silver Throne, and the only ship left that is able to cross the Frontier.
“Inconvenient as it may be, we will have to do without the original Geographica , and hope that no circumstance arises in which it is needed.”
“Original Geographica ?” Charles exclaimed. “I don’t understand.”
Bert grinned. “Do you recall your little friend Tummeler? He was as good as his word—he published a facsimile edition of the Imaginarium Geographica , and practically everyone in the Archipelago has a copy now.
“It’s nowhere near as complete as the original, of course,” he continued, “but it’s annotated in English, and shows all the major islands. It would do in a pinch.”
“Good Old Tummeler,” said Charles. “I’ve often thought of him—usually during breakfast. Never looked at a muffin in the same way since, I can tell you.”
John finally quit pacing and approached the others. “There was a lot going on, you’ll remember,” he said apologetically. “In all the confusion and commotion…”
“Five ham sandwiches,” stated Jack. “That’s all I’m going to say about confusion and commotion and no time to retrieve the Geographica . The Caretaker Bloody Principia.”
“All right, Jack,” Charles said quickly. “No need for language.”
“Avalon, ho,” said Bert, pointing. “We’re at the boundary. Let’s get off here and collect ourselves, and then we’ll decide what to do next.”
Once the ship had been anchored to a spot on the sloping hill above the beach, the companions climbed
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