The Boy Who Sang with Dragons
For Ian, Ben and Jonas,
for helping me grow our dragons
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Acknowledgements
Copyright
Here in Grandad’s garden, the air crackles with magic. In between the runner beans and raspberry bushes, dragons flit. Scales shimmering. Eyes glittering. Hot breath steaming.
I stand, feet rooted in the soil like a plant. Growing tall and strong as tiny dragons settle on my hands, my arms, my head.
An orange dragon with silver-tipped wings brushes my face. A turquoise dragon with black spines and a bright yellow tail scratches my palm. An electric-blue dragon with threads of silver clings to my back.
And when I tilt my head upwards to the stars and close my eyes, I see the shining ruby shape of Flicker, huge and bright like a glowing constellation come to life.
Here in Grandad’s garden, I am the dragon whisperer. The dragon protector.
1
Super-Sticky Slimo
‘Incoming slime,’ Ted yelled. And we all ducked as a green and brown-speckled dragon dived at us.
A splat of sticky goo landed on Liam’s head.
‘Eww! This stuff stinks,’ he groaned. ‘I thought only slugs oozed slime.’
‘It’s probably a defence mechanism,’ Aura said. ‘It must be scared.’
‘Yeah, like hagfish,’ Ted piped up, a bit too gleefully. ‘They can squirt out a litre of slime if they feel threatened.’
‘Well, this dragon must be terrified,’ Liam said. ‘We’re going to be wading through the stuff soon.’
‘You couldn’t wade through this,’ Kat said. ‘It’s super-sticky.’ She waved her hands at us – they were covered in fluff from her efforts to wipe them clean.
‘I think it’s us who should be scared anyway,’ Kai pointed out. ‘Have you seen what those others are doing now?’
Two dragons with dainty feathery frills protruding from their elegant necks were hopping in circles in front of each other. Their heads bobbed and their frills fanned out, like those birds of paradise doing elaborate dances that I’d seen on TV.
‘I think they’re the least of our worries,’ I said.
‘Not those,’ he said. ‘Those.’ And he pointed to a pair of golden dragons with long curled horns and strange corkscrew-shaped tails. ‘They’re drilling holes in the cricket pitch!’
‘And scorching the grass,’ said Kat.
‘And leaving muddy mounds like molehills,’ said Ted.
An area of the neatly manicured pitch suddenly ignited.
‘And then there’s the explosive poo of course,’ I added.
This particular band of dragons were certainly proving to be more of a handful than most of those who ventured out of Grandad’s garden.
‘We’re not going to be able to see them soon,’ Liam said. ‘Let alone catch them.’
He was right – it was almost dark.
‘Can you give us a bit of light?’ I whispered to Zing, who was resting his head over my shoulder, claws digging into my jumper and tail swishing back and forth.
His sky-blue scales flared brightly and the tip of his zigzag tail pulsed white as it flicked out. A crackle of little blue sparks leaped from spike to spike along his back. I felt my hair starting to stick up, as a familiar buzz ran through me. Then he rose into the air.
He flew up and landed on one of the floodlights that lined the edge of the cricket pitch. The bulb blazed into life, illuminating the grass and the drilling dragons. I thought for a minute that might be enough to make them all fly off into the night. But no.
You’ve got to love my optimism, haven’t you? You’d think I’d know better by now. Because let’s face it, life with dragons is never easy.
As the light came on, the two dancing dragons started twisting and twirling even more wildly, as if this was the spotlight their dramatic display had been waiting for. But it was too alarming for the slime-splattering dragon, which dripped its way over the top of the drilling dragons and then disappeared into one of the holes they’d made.
The next second it shot out of another hole a few feet away.
‘They really have been burrowing,’ I said. ‘They must have made tunnels under there.’
The drilling dragons really didn’t like their hard work being invaded. But Slimo was too quick for them. We watched as he dodged them and disappeared back down yet another hole.
‘We need to do something,’ Kat said. ‘Or this cricket pitch is going to be more full of holes than a piece of Swiss cheese!’
‘Everyone, stand guard over a hole,’ I said. ‘Get ready to grab hold of it next time it pops out.’
Now if you’ve ever played that game ‘whack-a-mole’ at school fetes where you have to whack a sock full of newspaper as it drops out the end of a pipe, you’ll know that this was not as easy as it sounded. Especially when the ‘sock’ in question was covered in slime and had wings and sharp claws!
It wasn’t helped by the twirling dragons getting in on the action. They slalomed their way between us, getting closer and closer to our heads, as if they were in a competition to see which of them could make us flail about the most. The smaller one won, by sending Liam lurching backwards. He stumbled over one of the heaps of dirt they’d made and landed bottom first in a hole. Which was undignified enough, except then the hole collapsed into the tunnel underneath and he was left wedged into the ground, his arms and legs sticking up in the air.
‘Help!’ he wailed.
Kai hurried over and started trying to pull him out. I could see he was stifling a giggle. Liam looked less amused.
‘Sorry, but you look like a hermit crab,’ Kai said, as he managed to pull him out a few inches, only to give up and let go.
He turned to the rest of us. ‘It’s no good, I need a hand,’ he called.
Kat joined in pulling Liam’s other arm. And Aura and I each grabbed a leg.
‘And they pulled and heaved and yanked and tugged, but still the enormous turnip would not move,’ Kai chanted, and the stifled giggle finally burst out and infected us all.
‘Ha ha!’ Liam said crossly. He shook us all off and started wriggling, arms and legs all squished together and waving madly, making him look like an irate squid. Which just made us laugh even more.
It also had a strange effect on the slime in the tunnel.
‘Er, guys,’ Ted said. ‘I think the suction from Liam’s bum is causing a reaction.’
We all turned and looked. And to our horror we saw that coming out of the hole at the other end of the tunnel was a super-stretched slime bubble. And it was growing bigger by the second. Snot bubbles had nothing on this monstrosity.
2
Cake, Presents and a Jammy Dragon
So
there are a few skills you definitely need if you want to grow dragons.
1. The ability to keep your eyes wide open. Including the extra pair of eyes you’ll need to grow in the back of your head. They’re essential for watching over the sneakier types.
2. Great listening skills. Sometimes, however wide your eyes are, it’s only the fizzling, sizzling, steaming, scratching and general crashing of household items that will give them away.
3. Awesomely fast reflexes. For leaping to put out sparks, catching your aunt’s priceless porcelain leopard on a log as it’s sent flying off a shelf or jumping in front of your dragon and yelling, ‘Giant diving dingbat!’ while pointing at the sky – a useful technique to distract your nosy neighbour from the truth: that it wasn’t a fox that upended his dustbin; it was your friendly, but far too inquisitive, dragon.
4. Thinking on your feet. I’m telling you now, however lively your imagination is I can guarantee you won’t predict every scenario your dragon will land you in. I mean, who would have thought of giant slime bubbles, right?
5. Speaking of which, I should add a new skill to the list. The ability to extract your friend from a sticky slime capsule while wrestling two startled corkscrew-tail dragons and dodging the diving antics of a couple of whirling, prancing ‘look at me’ type dragons.
By the time we’d safely caught all of the little visitors, done our best to patch up the cricket pitch and returned the dragons to Grandad’s garden, where they could follow their recently hatched companions up into the sky and towards the shining North Star, we were all in need of the chocolate-fudge cake I’d brought along, thanks to Nana.
‘I’m going to miss this,’ Kat said.
‘Me too,’ said Ted, eyeing up the last couple of slices of cake.
‘I don’t think she means the cake,’ I said, watching as Kat raised a hand. Rosebud unfurled her wings and detached herself from Aura’s arm, where she’d been happily curled up throughout the afternoon’s adventures. The little dragon fluttered over and landed on Kat’s shoulder.
‘You’re not the only one,’ Kai muttered.
Over the past few weeks the twins had been caught up in the excitement of visiting relatives and packing up their lives ready for their new adventure in China. But sitting now in their empty bedroom, the reality of their departure was getting hard to miss.
Ted looked a bit sheepish, although he still kept an eye on the remaining cake.
‘I really hoped Crystal would visit before we left,’ Kat said sadly.
Ever since the night our dragons had nearly been spotted flying over the village hall, and Kat had urged them to stay away for a while, there had been no sign of them.
Until then, even though we hadn’t ever known when they might turn up, we knew they would come back to us eventually. But despite watching and waiting from our windows every night, and desperately hoping, not one of them had returned.
I kept telling myself that Flicker would come back, of course he would. But there was a nagging doubt that burrowed its way deep inside me. And the longer the sky remained empty, the more settled that doubt had become. It’d be redecorating before long, repainting my insides in shades of queasy yellow Fear and sickly green Uncertainty.
I looked up to find the whole superhero squad lost in thought. Their faces were equally gloomy.
I leaped to my feet, determined to change the mood, and managed to startle Aura so much she flung out her hand, sending her last piece of cake hurtling past her mouth and into Ted’s forehead.
‘Waste not want not,’ he said, wiping it off and quickly shoving the cake into his mouth before Aura could object. I could have told him she was unlikely to want to eat anything that had been stuck to his face, but he obviously felt differently.
‘I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up,’ I said. ‘We all have, haven’t we?’
‘Absolutely!’ Aura grinned. ‘Can I give them my present first?’ And she started rummaging in her bag.
Kat and Kai perked up at the mention of ‘presents’.
‘Here it is,’ she said at last, waving a crumpled piece of paper triumphantly. She handed it to Kat.
Kat looked at it. ‘This is brilliant,’ she said, grinning. ‘Thanks, Aura.’
‘Yeah, thanks,’ echoed Kai. ‘You’ve really done your homework. This is going to be so much fun to do.’
Seeing my confusion, Kat passed me the piece of paper. It read: ‘Kat and Kai’s Treasure Trail’. And it was a list of places to visit and things to spot once they arrived in China, with a box to tick next to each one. It went all the way from ‘airport snacks’ to the last item on the list, which was: ‘dragon fruit’.
I laughed. ‘You’d better keep your eyes open then!’
I had to hand it to Aura – it was a great idea. And it would be the perfect accompaniment to the present I had for them.
‘Me next,’ Ted said. And he produced a drawstring sack stuffed with chocolate bars and biscuits and even some jam tarts. ‘In case you get homesick.’ He grinned.
‘Yum!’ Kai said, and fished out a bar of chocolate. He passed the sack to Kat who peered in, and promptly pulled out an empty wrapper. She raised her eyes at Ted, who cleared his throat awkwardly.
‘It’s a perfect present, Ted,’ she said, laughing. ‘Thanks.’
Liam gave them his presents next. First there was one of his favourite comics for Kat. Which got a serious nod of approval from both Kat and me. We knew how hard it was to give up a well-loved comic. And for Kai a key ring in the shape of a dragon’s eye that had a fierce little torch in it, making the eye shine.
It was almost my turn. But first: ‘This is from Lolli,’ I said. I handed them a rolled-up piece of paper. On it Lolli had painted a picture of Kat and Kai with Crystal and Dodger.
‘Er . . . Is that jam?’ Kai said holding the picture up to his face and tentatively sniffing it.
I grinned. ‘’Fraid so.’
‘Tell her we love it,’ Kat said, her eyes sparkling as she stared at the jammy dragons.
‘And these are from me,’ I said. I pulled two scrapbooks out of my bag.
There was a little ‘ooh’ from Aura when she saw them. And nods from Liam and Ted. Kat and Kai went a bit quiet. I’d decorated the covers with loads of photos of us all. I’d spent ages cutting and sticking them on and shaping them into the outline of a dragon.
‘I thought you could put pictures inside and write about stuff that happens,’ I said. ‘So you can keep a record. You know, like Elvi did. And then when you come back you can show us all your amazing adventures.’
Kat gave a little squeak and pulled me into a massive hug. And then I noticed that Kai was rubbing his eye as if Zing had flicked a raisin into it.
‘We are part of the best superhero squad ever. Fact,’ he said.
I grinned. He was right, we were.
3
A Waggle, a Wave and a Little Wise Piglet
‘So, Chipstick,’ said Grandad. ‘Did they like their presents?’
I nodded.
‘What time they off then?’
I knocked a clod of mud off the hoe I was holding, hoping it would cover the wobble in my voice.
‘They’ve already gone. They had to leave for the airport at five o’clock this morning.’
Grandad dug his spade into the ground and took a deep breath of the chilly morning air. He glanced at his watch and then up at the sky.
‘Two hours to get to the airport, two hours to check in, an hour to board.’ He counted out the timings on his fingers and then paused. ‘Hey up, that’ll be them now.’
He pointed to the sky, at the smoky trail of an aeroplane passing overhead.
He started jumping up and down and waving madly.
‘Come on then, Chipstick, give them a wave. We need to give them a proper send-off.’
I shook my head and laughed. And we spent the next few minutes doing our farewell wave routine, now with added leaps, bottom waggling and arm spinning. We were soon both o
ut of breath and collapsed into each other in giggles. The chances of Kat and Kai being on that plane were probably a gazillion to one, but I imagined their grinning faces at the little round windows anyway.
‘The world’s not as big as you think,’ Grandad whispered. ‘None of us is as far apart as all that.’
After refuelling with a jam tart and a mug of milk in Grandad’s shed, we got back to the digging and hoeing.
I cleared the ground around the dragon-fruit tree, pulling out a nettle that had shot up and a few straggly weeds, but leaving the last few dandelions of the year, because Grandad insisted they were good for the bees.
Underneath the nettle a funny little shoot was poking out of the ground. My heart gave a flutter. Was it a dragon-fruit seedling?
I crouched down and peered at it, and then realised the two little leaves were the wrong shape.
I should have known really. After all, we’d never found any growing in Grandad’s garden. It was too cold for them. It was why the seedlings from the botanic garden were so important. Except now all the ones we’d collected and had been looking after had died. The only others were locked away in a greenhouse in the botanic garden, under the care of Chouko, the botanist and gardener who worked there.
Those seedlings had looked strong and healthy. And I still didn’t know what it was that she was doing differently. How was she succeeding in growing them, when I’d failed so miserably?
‘I reckon they’ll be better off over at mine,’ said a voice from the other side of the tree. ‘More room, and I can keep my eye on them.’
‘Oh, I expect they’ll be all right in there. They’ve done OK so far,’ Grandad said.
I stepped out and saw Jim, Grandad’s neighbour – the man I used to call Grim, that is until I took a leaf out of Grandad’s book. Grandad always says, ‘Find the kind, and you never know what else you’ll find.’ And he was right. The day I stopped seeing Jim as the enemy, he . . . well, he stopped being the enemy. I found out he wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, if it hadn’t been for him, my head might not have caught up with my heart enough to know I had to let Flicker go.