The Dragon of Lonely Island (14 page)

Read The Dragon of Lonely Island Online

Authors: Rebecca Rupp

Tags: #Ages 8 & Up

BOOK: The Dragon of Lonely Island
11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The great golden dragon bent down and gently smoothed the hair of first one, then the other, with a polished claw.“Ah, yes, you would, my dear,” the dragon said. It tapped Hitty lightly on the forehead. “Use your head,” it said. “It was all right there, all the time.”

Then with a pounding rush of wings, the dragon rose into the air and turned toward the north. Hitty and Will stood looking after it, until it had faded in the distance, into an almost invisible pinprick of gold.”

“And is that the end of the story?” asked Hannah.

“It can’t be,” said Zachary. “What happened to Will? Did he become a pilot when he grew up?”

The dragon bristled. “Certainly not,” it said. “He had more sense. He became a famous botanist, a world expert on marine plants. A new species of seaweed was named after him, but he always preferred its common name. He called it dragonweed.”

“What about Hitty?” asked Sarah Emily. “She was my favorite. What happened to her?”

The dragon inclined its golden head. “Why,” it said, “I thought you knew. For heaven’s sake, child, use your head!”

Sarah Emily thought for a moment and suddenly her eyes opened wide. “Hitty!” she said. “It’s a nickname for Mehitabel. Hitty is Aunt Mehitabel!”

“It was Aunt Mehitabel who told us to explore Drake’s Hill,” Hannah said. “She must have wanted us to find you here.”

The dragon bent its head. “She is an honored and beloved friend,” it said, “and very wise. She has kept the Resting Place safe for many years.”

“She sends you her regards,” Sarah Emily said softly.

“I miss her visits,” the dragon said.

“She’s very old now,” Hannah said gently. “She has to walk with a stick. I know she would come if she could.”

“We’ll keep the Resting Place safe, too, Fafnyr,” said Zachary. “We’ll never tell anyone either.”

“We all promise,” said Hannah.

“And if you ever need any help . . . ,” began Sarah Emily.

The dragon nodded. “Thank you, my dears,” it said. Then it said, “Please hold out your hands.”

The three children each held out a hand, the palm facing upward. Slowly and ceremoniously the dragon extended a golden claw. It pricked each outstretched hand, precisely in the center; first Hannah’s, then Zachary’s, and finally Sarah Emily’s. Each child felt a sharp stinging pain, then a beautiful feeling of well-being and warmth. Sarah Emily raised her hand toward her face.

“It
does
sparkle,” she breathed.

“We are bonded,” the great golden dragon said.

“Oh, Fafnyr,” Hannah said shakily. “We are honored.”

Zachary reverently touched the tiny golden glitter in the center of his palm. Then he looked up, regretfully. “It’s getting late,” he said. “We should go before people start wondering where we are. Thank you, Fafnyr, for everything.”

“And thank your brothers for us,” added Hannah.

The dragon nodded. The golden head drooped. The silver eyes closed. The light in the cave grew dim. Softly the children turned to leave.

Sarah Emily lingered behind.

“Will we see you again, Fafnyr?” she asked. “We don’t live here, you know. We’re just visiting and we’ll have to go home soon. It could be a whole year before . . .”

She stopped. The dragon was asleep.

Sadly Sarah Emily turned to follow Zachary and Hannah. She groped her way carefully upward, running one hand along the rocky wall. Then a husky voice spoke behind her out of the darkness.

“When you come back,” the dragon said, “we will still be here.”

A letter arrived at last from Aunt Mehitabel, sweepingly addressed to the children in peacock blue ink. “By now,” wrote Aunt Mehitabel, “you know the secret of Drake’s Hill. The time has come for me to pass on the trust. I am not getting any younger and Fafnyr needs friends and protectors. I feel sure that you three will keep the Resting Place safe.”

“But why didn’t she just tell us about Fafnyr?” Sarah Emily asked.

Hannah smiled over the top of the letter. “There’s a P.S. at the end,” she said, “and it’s underlined in gold ink. It says, ‘
Some things are best when you discover them for yourself
.’”

Zachary chuckled. “She sounds just like Fafnyr,” he said.

Sarah Emily said, “She sounds like Hitty.”

The time had come to leave the island. Suitcases and duffle bags were packed. Shell collections were carefully wrapped in newspaper. Bathrooms and bedside tables were checked for things left behind. The children hugged Mrs. Jones, who hugged each of them tight and pressed bags of fresh oatmeal cookies into their hands. “You’ll be back next summer,” she said, “and it will be here sooner than you think, so don’t let me see any of those long faces. You watch: It will be June quicker than a wink, and you’ll all be here to help me make strawberry jam and blueberry pies.”

“And dig clams,” put in Mr. Jones, “and keep a weather eye on the night sky.” He patted Zachary on the shoulder. “The captain’s telescope will be here waiting for you, young man.”

The children looked mournfully around the house one last time.

“I hate leaving,” Sarah Emily said. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

“I’ll miss everything about this place,” said Hannah. “Even that awful elephant’s-foot stool.”

“But what we’ll all miss most . . . ,” began Zachary. Then he stopped abruptly and turned away to look out the window.

“Fafnyr,” Sarah Emily whispered.

“Fafnyr,” said Hannah. There was a catch in her voice.

They trooped sadly down to the shore and loaded their belongings onto the now-familiar green boat, the
Martha.
Mother tucked the last bag under the seat in the bow. “Just one more look around,” she said, straightening up. “It’s been a wonderful summer. And it’s been good for you children, spending time here. We’ll come back again.”

There was a sound of boots crunching over sand and stones as Mr. Jones approached. “All aboard,” he said. They climbed reluctantly into the boat. Sarah Emily cast off and the
Martha
chugged westward toward the mainland and home. The island began to grow smaller and smaller in the distance. The children sat up straighter, gazing longingly back at it over the swelling blue waves.

“Good-bye, Fafnyr,” whispered Zachary.

“Good-bye, Fafnyr,” murmured Hannah. Her eyes were filled with tears.

But Sarah Emily looked straight into the wind, with a look of pride and determination on her face. “We’ll always remember!” she shouted as loudly as she could. “And we’ll be back!”

In the far distance behind them, from the receding peak of Drake’s Hill, came — for just an instant — a dazzling sunbeam flash of pure gold.

Here’s a sneak peek at the sequel to
The Dragon of Lonely Island
!

In the center of the cluster of white tents, next to a ring of rocks that had once held a campfire, was a group of people. There were several young men all dressed alike in what looked like uniforms: navy-blue pants and white windbreakers with name tags on the breast pockets. There was also a girl wearing a rubber wetsuit. She held a diving mask and a pair of rubber flippers in one hand, and there were air tanks in a harness on the ground next to her feet.

They seemed to be getting orders. A man with a clipboard was talking rapidly, pointing at each person in turn, and then making check marks on the clipboard with a pencil.

“I wish we could hear what they’re saying,” Hannah whispered in a frustrated voice.

Zachary gave a little exclamation and began to rummage in the backpack. He pulled out his tape recorder and microphone.

“We can,” he whispered excitedly. He switched on the tape recorder. “We just have to plant the microphone somewhere closer — it’s got a really long cord — and then we’ll be able to hear every word they say. You two stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Holding the tiny microphone, he crawled rapidly to the edge of the sheltering fir trees and tossed the tiny microphone toward the speakers. It fell invisibly into a clump of beach grass. Zachary scooted quickly backward to where Hannah and Sarah Emily waited.

“Now listen to this,” he said. He switched the tape recorder on.

“. . . underwater caves,” a scratchy voice said. “Mr. King seems to think there might be something of interest along this stretch of beach. That will be your job, Alison. Take Danny along to stand watch while you dive.”

There was an inaudible murmur that sounded like Alison asking a question.

“No, just caves,” the scratchy voice said. “See what’s in them. And Mike and Tony, you two head down the beach and see if you can spot anything else in the way of rock formations. And Ben can cover the hill.”

“Not
again,
” somebody — presumably Ben — said in tones of disgust. “I’ve been over every inch of that blasted rock pile.”

“Not quite,” the scratchy voice said. “Mr. King wants complete maps of the terrain — you haven’t delivered those yet — and detailed notes on the resident wildlife. And I might add, Ben, that if you’re interested in keeping your job, you’ll have to do better than one misspelled note reading ‘Saw a dum raccoon.’”

Ben snorted.

“All right, then,” the scratchy voice said. “Let’s get going. Report back here by five o’clock and we’ll compare notes.”

There was a confused mutter of voices as the group began to scatter, talking among themselves.

Zachary turned the little tape recorder off.

“Well, that’s that,” he said. “They’re looking for something all right.”


Zachary,
” Sarah Emily said urgently. “That man . . .”

A man in a white windbreaker was just straightening up from the clump of beach grass, a puzzled expression on his face. In one hand he was holding Zachary’s microphone.

“Quick!” Hannah hissed. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

Zachary yanked on the cord, struggling to unplug the microphone from the tape recorder. At the same time, the man in the windbreaker began to run toward the trees, following the telltale path of the cord.

“What the devil do you think you’re doing?” he shouted as the children scrambled to their feet. “Who are you, anyway?”

He had broad shoulders, short reddish hair, and a narrow sullen-looking face. The name tag on his pocket read BEN. He gave a vicious tug on the microphone cord, and the tape recorder flew out of Zachary’s hands and landed with a crunching noise on the ground.

Other books

Fated by Alexandra Anthony
In the Dead: Volume 1 by Petersen, Jesse
Beguiled by Shannon Drake
I'm Not Stiller by Max Frisch
Ashworth Hall by Anne Perry
Angel in Chains by Nellie C. Lind
Snowflakes on the Sea by Linda Lael Miller
Fire and Rain by Lowell, Elizabeth
The Dance by Barbara Steiner
Isle of Fire by Wayne Thomas Batson