The Boy Who Sang with Dragons Read online

  Flicker and I had shared dreams before. He had shown me things. So maybe I could show him too?

  If I could fall asleep with the image of Tinkle in the cave in my mind, maybe I could fill my dreams with it and Flicker would see.

  I closed my eyes and imagined I was there again in the dark, the rock scraping my skin, and the hot air stifling me. I squirmed under my quilt as the flapping bird started pecking at my insides. Poor Tinkle. I didn’t want to be in this place even in my dreams. But I made myself focus. As sleep crept towards me though, other images tiptoed closer.

  I saw Aura laughing as she stood covered in dragons, holding one out on her hand to her dad. And Grandad’s garden surrounded by a fence that grew higher and higher as I tried to climb in over it.

  I woke up in the morning, sweaty and exhausted and more desperate than ever. My dreams had been muddled and full of Liam’s pirate chicken and dancing socks and a garden of dragons that I could never climb into. How was Flicker going to make sense of any of that?

  I threw off the covers, feeling as if I’d swallowed a wasp and it was now buzzing angrily inside me. First flapping birds and now wasps – at this rate I’d be turning into the Old Woman Who Swallowed a Fly!

  22

  An Explosion of Green

  Later that day, in Grandad’s garden, I tried to calm the buzzing wasp inside me by digging up some tangled brambles. Grandad and I worked side by side and it felt good to be there, just the two of us.

  Once the ground was clear, I wheeled the barrow over to the compost heap. When I got back I found Grandad staring at the rows of trays in his greenhouse.

  ‘Oh dear,’ he said sadly. ‘Not much that’s prizewinning in here, is there?’

  I had to admit he was right. The seedlings he’d been growing were definitely looking tired and shrivelled.

  ‘I told Jim I had it all in hand,’ Grandad said. ‘But it looks like I should have let him take all this lot over to his fancy polytunnel too.’

  I shook my head fiercely. It didn’t seem fair for Jim to come in and take over. ‘Maybe they need some chocolate,’ I suggested feebly, grasping at the limits of my gardening know-how.

  Grandad smiled. ‘I think they just need a bit more protection than I can give them.’ He looked up at the cracked panes of glass in the roof of the greenhouse where the wind rattled through and down at the holes in the floor where some night-time creature had dug its way in to nibble on the tender shoots.

  ‘I can repot them for you,’ I said. ‘And I can fill in those holes and we can board up that window. I’m sure I can fix this place up. You don’t need to let Jim take them.’

  Grandad scratched his beard and looked around. ‘Right you are, Chipstick. We’d better get started then.’

  When Aura came skipping down the garden later, she found me scrabbling about in the dirt trying to fill in the holes.

  Grandad explained about his suffering plants as he poured us all a glass of squash and handed Aura a biscuit.

  ‘It’ll be fine once I’ve fixed the place up,’ I said, rubbing the dirt off my hands and grabbing myself a biscuit too, before they all vanished.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said brightly. ‘Just leave it to me and Rosebud. I’m sure we can sort things.’

  Grandad looked at the little dragon who was clinging to Aura’s arm. He reached out a finger and gently tapped her scaly head.

  ‘Well, if you think you can turn things around then, I’d certainly be glad of any help.’

  There was a noise like a snort that I suddenly realised might have come from me.

  ‘Any extra help, that is,’ he corrected himself, glancing at me.

  I stuffed another biscuit into my mouth to stop any grumpy words getting out. It was all very well for Aura to swan in and offer to save the day, but I’d been the one working hard to clear things up.

  As Grandad went back to the house for a cuppa and a quiet half-hour, I got back to filling holes. Aura whispered something to Rosebud and the little dragon started hopping from tray to tray, breathing gently across the seedlings. It was like a breath of fresh air filling the greenhouse, and you could almost see each little plant lift its head and smile at the dragon in thanks.

  ‘Come on,’ Aura said happily. ‘Let’s go and have a cup of tea with your nana. Rosebud has got this.’

  I watched Rosebud for a moment, rubbing my arm where a nettle had stung me. Maybe it was time for a break. With Rosebud on the job, hopefully Grandad’s garden would soon be back to prizewinning status.

  But let’s face it – a lot can happen in the time it takes to drink some tea. Especially when a dragon has been left in charge.

  When we came back, I could tell something was wrong with the greenhouse, even from halfway down the path. There were tendrils shooting out of the broken windows, reaching up into the air. It looked like some bizarre green octopus.

  But it wasn’t just the greenhouse.

  Everywhere we looked, plants had erupted, sending shoots out in all directions. And every single one was covered in tiny buds ready to bloom. It was as if the garden had turned jungle in the blink of an eye.

  Grandad just stared. His mouth dropped open as he watched some of the tendrils stretching over towards Jim’s neat flower beds and vegetable plot. And then our eyes fell on his polytunnel.

  And the explosion of green that filled it.

  Rosebud was flitting back and forth across the gardens, happily breathing life into everything she saw. Which would have been fine if she’d known when to stop.

  ‘What have you done?’ I cried. ‘Make her stop, Aura!’

  Aura raced down the garden, calling to her little dragon, who ignored her and carried on flying from plant to plant. By the time Grandad and I reached them, Aura’s legs were entwined with creeping tendrils and she had flowers sprouting from her hair.

  ‘I was only trying to help,’ she wailed. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Grandad wrapped one arm round her shoulder and with the other hand he pulled the leafy tendril – that was now covered in snot – off her face.

  ‘There, there,’ he said. ‘No need for tears.’

  23

  Follow That Dream

  That night, I needed to be asleep and dreaming, to make sure Flicker got the message about Tinkle.

  But however many sheep I counted and however still I lay I just couldn’t debuzz enough to drift off. After Aura had arrived in the garden and caused chaos, the angry wasp inside me had just got buzzier and buzzier.

  Mum and Dad had gone to bed hours ago and it was pitch dark outside. I slumped down in bed while Zing perched on my desk, watching me. And then I saw a flash of light flare across the window. And a low familiar rumble. I leaped out of bed, got my foot caught in the quilt and yelped as I nosedived onto the floor. Rubbing my face, I raced to the window.

  Flicker stared in at me and his diamond eyes sent little darts of light straight into my heart. They had an immediately calming effect on the wasp.

  But had my message been too garbled for him to understand? Was that why he was here, and not out looking for Tinkle? I took a breath, determined to make my words less muddled than my dreams.

  Flicker leaned in closer as if waiting for me to climb on his neck. But I held up a hand and shook my head. There was no time for fun and games. I told him of the dream I’d shared with Lolli in as much detail as I could, my mind filling with images of the cave.

  When I told him that the injured dragon was Tinkle and how sad her song had sounded, I had the same fluttery feeling deep in my chest, remembering how scared I had felt in the stifling dark. Flicker’s scales flared bright orange. And his body shook as if in sudden readiness to launch up into the air.

  I let my hand drop from where it had been stroking his neck. My eyes fell on the pile of paper on my desk. When Aura and the others had been here yesterday, she had drawn the four-winged dragon on sheet after sheet after sheet. The one Elvi always spoke to her about – her mum’s dragon.

  I
so wanted to tell Flicker the rest of what was in my head. How Aura had wanted to tell her dad about the dragons, because she felt so sad about her mum not seeing them. And the secret worries I had about Aura taking over in Grandad’s garden. And how afraid I was that there wouldn’t be a place for me any more if she did.

  All those worries buzzing away inside me, desperate to get out. I ran a finger over the sheets of paper as Flicker leaned in. He sniffed at them and then let out a puff of steam that set them fluttering, lifting the four-winged dragon into the air. But I bit back those worries. There wasn’t time now. Flicker needed to go, and fast.

  He nudged me with his snout, and I felt the warmth from his scales spread through me.

  Then he turned his head and rocketed up into the sky.

  24

  Superheroes Don’t Wear Tea Towels

  I don’t often oversleep. Mainly because Lolli usually helps me wake up on time by jumping on me, banging a drum near my head or singing at full volume. But with her still cocooned in her nest and me not being able to sleep for ages after Flicker had left, I was out for the count when Mum put her head round the door.

  ‘You feeling OK, Tomas?’ she asked.

  I peered blearily at her. ‘Just tired,’ I grunted.

  She came over and sat on the edge of my bed.

  ‘Have you been wrestling crocodiles in your sleep again?’ she asked, reaching out to pat my tangled hair.

  ‘Sort of,’ I said. Because actually thinking about all the things I had in my head felt about as exhausting as wrestling crocodiles sometimes.

  Mum leaned in and gave me a squeeze. ‘Well, if you need me to talk to those crocs, let me know,’ she said.

  And I smiled, because as usual Mum had got it without me spelling it out. But just in case I needed to hear it loud and clear, she added, ‘I know things have been busy lately with the filming, but I’m always here if you need me.’

  I was just about to answer, when Zing started scratching at the underside of my bed.

  ‘Whatever’s that?’ Mum said.

  ‘Nothing,’ I cried, and then started coughing loudly as the scratching became more frenzied.

  Mum stood up and began to lean down to look underneath. But I scrambled out of bed, flinging the quilt so it covered her view. I stood between her and the bed, hoping Zing wouldn’t do anything more alarming.

  She wrinkled her nose and sniffed and I realised there was a definite whiff of something burning.

  ‘It’s the class hamster,’ I blurted. ‘It’s really stinky – that’s why no one wants to look after it. So I said I’d do it.’

  There was another noise from under the bed, which I could tell was Zing trying to get himself free from the tangle of jumpers he’d dragged under there. Any second now he’d be flaring silver and then zapping goodness knows where. Knowing my luck, onto the top of Mum’s head!

  Mum eyed me warily. ‘I’m not convinced your class hamster sounds very happy under there. Maybe we should find it somewhere else to sleep.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ I said quickly. ‘I’ll sort old Hammy out, don’t worry. You go and check on Lolli – I’m an expert hamster whisperer.’

  She looked as if she was about to comment on that, but then Dad called out to her.

  ‘Make sure you keep Hammy out of Tomtom’s way,’ she said to me firmly, before heading out.

  I opened the window for Zing, who zipped outside and happily started zig-zagging between the branches of the nearest tree.

  I quickly got dressed and then started shoving my school things into my bag. While I did, I gave the seedling my usual hopeful inspection. Since I’d scattered the soil with cacao I’d been keeping a close eye on it. I’d been cautiously optimistic after seeing the leaves turn green again in places. But today it positively shone. I rubbed my eyes just to be sure it wasn’t tiredness playing tricks. No. The seedling was bigger and the leaves bright and glossy. And it definitely had a glow!

  I punched the air and whooped, bringing Zing zooming back inside to see what the fuss was about.

  ‘Look,’ I cried, pointing to the little pot. ‘I did it!’

  Zing flew down and clung to my jumper and his tail thumped happily on my back.

  I couldn’t wait until the bell rang at the end of the day so I could go to the botanic garden and share the news with Chouko. Liam and Ted had football practice and Aura, who’d hardly looked in my direction all day, had hurried away for an appointment of some kind. But that didn’t matter. I had found the answer and I was going to save those seedlings.

  I felt like a superhero swooping in to rescue the day as I raced through the gates of the botanic garden. And as if the stars were lining up in my favour, I spotted Chouko as soon as I turned the corner.

  I waved and called out. But she was too focused on reading whatever was on the clipboard in her hand.

  Before I could reach her, a young man in overalls approached and the two of them started talking intently. I hung back, wanting to speak to her alone. But just when I thought they were done another woman joined them. She was wearing a white lab coat and clutching a clipboard. She jumped into the conversation and started jabbing a finger at whatever was written on the board.

  The talking went on and on, with the woman in the lab coat now doing most of it. I couldn’t see Chouko’s face, but when you watch a person closely you can actually tell all sorts of things even from the back. People aren’t aware how much their body does the talking for them, and from the way her shoulders had crept upwards, I could tell Chouko wasn’t very happy.

  I started jiggling about impatiently. I couldn’t help it. Why couldn’t they just finish up what they were saying and leave Chouko alone?

  When they finally headed off, I ran over.

  ‘Chouko,’ I wheezed, out of breath from running.

  For once she didn’t look pleased to see me.

  ‘Hello, Tomas. I’m sorry I can’t stop and talk right now. There’s something I need to do. Rather urgently.’

  ‘But I have something important to tell you,’ I said quickly. ‘About the seedlings and why they’re struggling. I know what you can do to help them.’

  She frowned slightly and looked thoughtful. ‘Yes, well, they’ve been taken out of my hands – for the time being anyway.’ She looked in the direction the woman had left and frowned again. ‘Though we shall see about that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, alarmed. ‘Who’s taken them?’

  ‘The department are very interested in my research. But apparently some people feel that I am not equipped to look after the seedlings adequately.’ She gave a little snort and I saw her knuckles whiten around the coffee cup she was holding. ‘So,’ she continued, ‘my specimens have been moved temporarily into a more intensively monitored area of the department. Into one of the laboratories over there.’ She waved a hand towards the building in the distance. ‘And apparently they are to stay there until Dr Meadows decides if anything further is required.’

  I stared at her. The words were crashing around in my head and I wanted to shout at them to sit down and be quiet so I could think straight.

  ‘But I have to see them,’ I blurted at last. ‘I know what they need. It’s –’ But she cut me off before I could get the word out.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tomas, no one is allowed in there. They are operating under closed conditions. I’m still trying to convince them to give me access.’

  I opened my mouth to plead, but she laid a hand on my arm and said gently, ‘I’m sorry, Tomas. I really have to go.’

  And so there I was, left on the path, feeling like I’d just been told my superhero cape was in fact a damp tea towel.

  25

  The Best Defence

  The next morning before I went down for breakfast I popped my head into Lolli’s room. She was curled up in her nest fast asleep, making an occasional snuffling sound like a contented guinea pig.

  ‘Think I’ll let her sleep,’ Dad said coming up the stairs. ‘She was awake fo
r hours last night, poor Lolli. Getting herself all worked up.’

  He peered over to look at her. ‘Looks pretty peaceful now, thank goodness.’

  It was a relief to see Lolli sleeping more comfortably. I just hoped it meant that Flicker had found Tinkle and that she was feeling more comfortable too. Or then again, maybe they had just exhausted themselves?

  On the way to school, I kept thinking about the seedlings at the botanic garden and how they were being monitored. A toxic mix of alarm and frustration rose up in me. Why couldn’t Chouko have just listened to what I had to say?

  When I got to school I found Liam and Ted outside class, talking to Mr Peters about the upcoming football tournament and the extra practice at lunchtime. There was no sign of Aura.

  Mr Firth strode in and started herding everyone inside.

  ‘But it’s Friday, sir. We have Miss Jelinski on a Friday,’ Amira said brightly, as if our teacher might have forgotten what day he was striding through.

  Mr Firth stopped and turned to look at her.

  ‘Yes, Amira, I’m well aware that it is indeed Friday. Miss Jelinski is unwell today, so you have the pleasure of my company again.’

  As we took our seats, he began blaring out instructions.

  ‘Take our your science books,’ he bellowed, as if we were several miles away across a windswept desert. ‘Today we’re looking at how animals defend themselves. Who can give me an example?’

  He glared at Mahid, who was whispering to Seb. Seb noticed the predator closing in on them and quickly elbowed Mahid, then shrank back into his chair.

  Make yourself small, I thought. That’s one defence.

  ‘Er . . . hedgehogs,’ Mahid stammered.

  Mr Firth grunted, clearly displeased that Mahid had actually still been listening, though to be fair most of this hemisphere would have had a hard job blocking out Mr Firth’s bellows. Mahid looked as if he wanted to turn hedgehog himself and curl up in a ball under the ferocious glare being fixed on him. I pictured him rolling up and his spines poking Mr Firth in the nose.