The Last Dragon Chronicles #4: The Fire Eternal (26 page)

And deeply suspicious,
Zanna thought. She and the iron both blew a little steam.

“Perfectly within her rights, of course. I mean, there was no … affiliation.” Henry coughed.

“I should think not,” Zanna said sternly,
feeling as if she’d morphed into a Victorian governess. “You
listen to me Henry, Gwil — ‘Gwyneth’ is just about the most selfish woman I’ve ever met. You don’t know her. I do. You’re far better off without her. Trust me.”

He pursed his lips and frowned. “Think she might have gone to Scotland.”

“What?” said Zanna. A sudden chill gripped her heart. “Whereabouts in Scotland?”

Henry opened his
hands. “Not sure. Made me show her a map of the islands. Then she was gone before you could shake a kilt.”

“Mommy!” Alexa dashed in from the hall.

“What, darling?”

“Lucy says you’ve got to come and look at the tellingvision.”

“Television, Lexie, how many times? In a minute, I’m talking to Henry.”

“But there’s snow, going upward!”

“Not technically possible,” said Henry. “Gravity wouldn’t
allow it, child.”

“Zanna?!” Lucy’s voice shouted through from the front.

Zanna switched off the iron. She aimed a finger between Henry’s eyes. “Stay away from that woman. She’s … well, just do as I say, OK? Go on,” she said to Lexie, and followed her into the den.

On the screen were aerial pictures of the Arctic. To Zanna’s amazement, Alexa’s description was accurate. The northern sky was filled
with an upward-moving blizzard. But at ocean level, it was still impossible to see any ice or any structure resembling ice.

“Awesome,” said Lucy. She was on the edge of the sofa, clutching a cushion. Gretel and Gwendolen were with her, holding paws.

“What are the scientists saying?” Zanna asked.

Lucy gave a snort of derision. “That it’s a vortex, a kind of tornado, caused by a freak combination
of ocean currents and atmospheric doo-dahs. They’re wrong, of course. It’s Gaia. It’s —”

Suddenly, both Lucy and Zanna became aware that the dragons were humming. It was the same mantra they had heard from the congregation in the Crescent. Zanna glanced at Henry. His face was a picture of bliss
and his mouth, though silent, was clearly following the cadence of the hymn. Zanna passed a hand in
front of his eyes. He was completely transfixed.

“What do you think?” Lucy said.

Zanna glanced at the television. “I guess we keep watching,” she said.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Elizabeth Pennykettle was dreaming — perhaps. She was feverish but she could clearly hear dragonsong and it was making her think of her beloved Gwillan. “Lucy?” she whispered. “Lucy, are you there?”

Eyes closed, she laid
her hand across the bed.

A strong but gentle hand came to cover it.

“Arthur? Are you home?”

Like a wind from another world a voice said, “Dream it.”

Liz rolled her head against her pillow, and there was David, sitting and holding Gwillan.

Her mouth trembled and she said, “Is this it? Am I dying?”

“No,” he replied.

“You look … Are you
real
?”

He stroked her fingers. “Sometimes,” he said.

She gazed at Gwillan, drained of color, solid. “Can you help him?”

“I’m here to help you all.”

Liz’s face was a sea of questions.

“His tear is not lost, that’s all I can tell you. Will you give Zanna a message for me?”

“She’s just downstairs. She —”

He held a finger to his lips. “Tell her to go to the library gardens.”

He stood up then and let her hand slip back onto the bed.

“David? Don’t
leave me. I’ve missed you so much.”

He leaned over and kissed the center of her forehead. “Gawain is with you. Be at peace. Sleep.”

The television stayed on into the evening. It was kind of like watching an old moon landing, long
and laborious but strangely compelling. Twice Zanna went upstairs and found Liz sleeping. Before her third visit she reminded herself that even if the world was on
the brink of a major ecological change, a household didn’t run itself. So she did a few chores. One was to take the kitchen trash out. Although it was dark, she hesitated before dropping in the plastic bag. She put it to one side and tilted the can. Her heart beat double when she didn’t hear a sizeable chunk of obsidian go rolling across the bottom. Gwilanna. The thieving …

Something was wrong
here. Very, very wrong. Gwilanna wanting the knife in the first place, then disappearing to the Scottish Islands. Her strange suggestion that she’d met Tam before and the even stranger suspicion that she was running away from him. The light inside the rock that wasn’t a knife but was really a heart. Why did that make Zanna’s blood run cold? Why did it make her think fearfully of Gwillan?

She
went upstairs to check on him. He was there, in the den, on the table where she’d left him, but he appeared to have moved slightly. She didn’t remember
him facing the window. Maybe one of the others had turned him? She would have asked but, like Henry, the dragons were transfixed. All of them were looking at the sky. Everyone, it seemed, was looking at the sky.

She went in to see Elizabeth. “Oh,
hi, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Have you been crying? You look so sad.”

Liz was sitting up, her red hair falling in waves across her pillows. “I’m OK. In fact, I feel a little better.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Liz shook her head. “Come and sit down. You’re a treasure, do you know that?”

“I do my best,” Zanna shrugged. “Everything’s shipshape. Cat fed. Shirts ironed. Daughters occupied.
Physics genius solving equations somewhere.”

“And what about you? What about Suzanna?”

“Learning. Steeply. But then I have had a very good teacher.”

Liz glanced at the night sky. “Something’s happening, isn’t it?”

Zanna shrugged again. “Funny weather in the Arctic.”

Liz smiled, long and deeply. “How’s the shop?”

“Shop? Good question. Haven’t been in for a couple of days. I really ought to
go down there, I suppose.”

“Go tonight.”

“What? At this time? Don’t be silly. There’s far too much to do here. I’ll find time tomorrow. There’s nothing that won’t —”

“Go tonight,” Liz insisted. “Go and visit the library gardens. They’re beautiful in the moonlight. Take Alexa with you.”

It was the oddest of suggestions, but Zanna nevertheless warmed to it. Leaving Lucy and Henry glued to the
television, she buttoned Alexa into her coat and drove her down to a deserted Scrubbley Main Street.

An odd sense of déjà vu started to grip her as they stood by the shop window and Alexa waved at Gruffen (who’d gone back some weeks before). The candle had burned down, right to a stub, but the valentine card
was still there beside it, still giving out its message of love.

Hrrr,
went Alexa and
knocked the window. Gruffen looked out for prying eyes. Finding none, he hurred on the candle and relit the wick.

Alexa reached up and gripped her mother’s hand. “Can we go to the gardens, Mommy?”

Liz was right about the gardens. But it wasn’t just the moonlight. The glow from the amber lamps that David had described so beautifully in
Snigger and the Nutbeast
was creating a stunning collage
of shadows, all across the paths, right down to the duck pond.

“I want to say hello to Conker,” said Alexa. She meant the grave under the tree, where a squirrel of that name had been buried long ago.

“Be careful,” said Zanna, as they parted hands. “Don’t run, Lexie. If you trip on something —”

“Hhh!” said the girl.

Zanna saw her freeze, a little way along the path. “Lexie?”

Then the child
was running again.

“Lexie?” Zanna shouted. “Lexie, come back. There won’t be squirrels at this time of night.”

And that was true. But as Zanna quickened her pace and took a twist of the path, she saw Alexa running toward the silhouette of a man. He was standing where the path leveled out, waiting.

Alexa was slightly above him when she took off. She almost flew through the air, landing in his
arms and squealing, “Daddy!”

Zanna stopped walking. There was a handrail beside her that she reached for and gripped, but only to stop her body from collapsing. She sat down on the path.

“Hello, Zanna,” he said.

Zanna let go of the handrail and wept.

Above their heads, the sky was suddenly lit by a brilliant all-encompassing sweep of violet.

Alexa looked up and gasped, “What is it?”

“A kind
of angel,” said David.

For there was a great light in the north.

And dragons had returned to the Earth once more.