Dragon Keepers #1: The Dragon in the Sock Drawer by Kate Klimo, John Shroades Page A

on Daisy’s chest, holding Daisy’s gold locket in her forepaws. Emmy began cooing softly.
    Daisy stirred at the sound, opened her eyes, and smiled sleepily.
    â€œI think Emmy likes your locket,” said Jesse.
    â€œLike. Lock. Ket,” the baby dragon agreed. “Like. A. Lot.” Emmy held the locket and chanted, “Lock. Ket. Lock. Ket.”
    â€œThat’s my baby locket,” Daisy said to Emmy. “It was my mother’s when she was a little girl.” Daisy opened the locket and showed Emmy the tiny photographs inside. Head cocked, Emmy peered at the two miniature pictures.
    â€œSee, this is my mother when she was a little girl, with her sheepdog, Fluffy. And this one here is my father holding a rock. My father always loved rocks, even when he was a little boy,” Daisy said.
    â€œWant. Lock. Ket,” Emmy said, taking the locket back in her shiny green talons.
    â€œSeems like she really, really wants it, Daze.” Jesse paused thoughtfully. “Hey, do you think that’s what Professor Andersson meant by hoarding…in his book, I mean.”
    Somewhat nervously, Daisy said, “Could I have my locket back please, Emmy?”
    Emmy pressed it to her mouth, then held it out to Daisy.
    â€œLock. Ket. Back. Day. Zee.”
    â€œThank you,” said Daisy. She snapped the locket shut and tucked it back inside her T-shirt with a firm pat.
    Emmy scrambled off Daisy and lit out across the Heifer Yard.
    â€œYikes!” yelled Daisy. “Where to now?”
    Emmy disappeared into the barn. Jesse bounded to his feet and ran after her. Daisy was fast on his heels. They found Emmy perched on a long wooden shelf, examining the things in their Museum of Magic. They had been working on the collection since Jesse had arrived at Easter time, and it included anything they felt might have magical powers.
    Daisy pointed to the framed pressed flowers. “Some of them heal you, some of them hurt you. Others make you strong, or brave, or smart, or calm,” she explained to Emmy. “That’s what it says in my herbal. That’s a book Miss Alodie gave me.”
    â€œGar. Den. Gnome,” said Emmy, nodding quickly.
    â€œRight. We never
eat
the flowers, of course,” Jesse explained. “But it’s fun to think about the powers they possess in their petals and stems and roots.”
    â€œRoooooots,” crooned Emmy. Then she moved on to the skulls, which were Jesse’s domain.
    â€œWe found these in the fields and in the Dee-Woods,” he told her. “Some of them still had flesh on them and were kind of gross. So I boiled them in a pot in the Rock Shop. They’re pretty clean now. The Native Americans—and some African tribes—believed that the spirits of dead animals lived on in their skulls. We’ve got a calf, a mouse, a dog, a wildcat, and something else we haven’t figured out yet.”
    Emmy moved to what Jesse and Daisy called the Magical Doorknob, made of bright green crystal. “That came from the door to a magical world,” Daisy explained.
    Then there was the Magical Milking Stool, the Magical Potion Bottle, and the Magical Horseshoes. “That stool is for sitting on during incantations,” Jesse explained. “That blue bottle there once held potions, and those horseshoes ward off bad luck and keep you from getting struck by lightning. Then there’s that stuff up there,” he said, pointing to the rusty old farm tools hanging high on the barn wall. “We think that stuff might be magical, but it might just be old.”
    Emmy’s attention was drawn to a crusty old metal ball about the size of a peach. She wrapped her arms around it and crooned.
    â€œThat,” said Daisy, “is the Sorcerer’s Sphere.”
    â€œSee,” Jesse explained to Emmy, “the man who once owned this farm wasn’t just a farmer. He was a Magical Dairyman, a sorcerer. That’s the