Gauge by Chris D'Lacey Page B

But as the moonlight shifted across the window she saw that he was wearing a kind of waistcoat and dipping his paw into a shallow pocket. “He’s got something,” she said. Her eyes glowed with excitement.

    Her mother hummed in acknowledgement. “Well, if you want to know what it is, you’d better hurry off downstairs, hadn’t you?”
    Lucy was gone in a flash. She knew exactly what her mother meant. In the freezer compartment of the fridge was a small plastic box with a pale blue lid. Inside the box was, of all things, a snowball. Liz had kept it since she was a girl. There were many secrets surrounding this nugget of ice, and even Lucy didn’t know all of them. But the snow was what brought her mother’s dragons to life. That was all that mattered to Lucy.
    She scooted upstairs and handed the box over. Liz opened the lid, letting a fine wisp of condensation escape. The snowball glistened in the moonlight. Lucy held her breath as her mother broke off the tiniest chunk and let it rest on the new dragon’s snout. Immediately, it melted inside his nostrils.

    “There, the kilning process is started,” said Liz. Then she turned the dragon until he was facing a tall, elegant female dragon who sat alone on a shelf just behind the bench. Her name was Guinevere. Liz whispered something to her in the ancient language of dragontongue. Guinevere’s eyes slid open.
    Lucy’s shoulders bristled with excitement. She had always wanted to know what happened next, but the most she ever saw was a violet light shining out of Guinevere’s eyes. That was all she saw this time as well. The light played over the new dragon’s body, creating what looked like a slight halo of fire around him.
    Her mother turned Lucy away then, saying, “Come on. Guinevere will hurr when he’s ready. Oh, by the way, while you were downstairs a name came to me.”
    “Really?” said Lucy. This was quite unusual. Dragons weren’t usually named until they were active.
    “I think he’s got a watch in his pocket,” said Liz, “because the name I thought of was Gauge.”
    Lucy didn’t look impressed. “Gauge?” she queried.
    “It’s a word that means ‘to measure’.”
    “What’s he going to measure – with a watch?”
    “Time, I suppose.”
    Lucy’s shoulders sank. “That’s boring,” she tutted.
    But, as was usual where special dragons were concerned, she was in for a few surprises.

Chapter Three

    It was another two days before Guinevere signalled to the listening dragon and he, in turn, signalled to Liz to say that Gauge was ready. Liz was in the kitchen at the time, having a cup of tea with Mr Bacon. Henry did not believe in dragons, so he did not hear the listener’s hurr. But he was close enough to feel a warm draught in his left ear, which prompted him to enquire if Mrs P, as he called Liz, had left a gas ring on?
    She said she had not and it was just a dragon breathing. That made Henry frown and caused Lucy to stifle a laugh. They enjoyed teasing Henry, though care was needed when a new dragon was in the house. Young special dragons had to be taught that they needed to act like solid clay figures when humans were near.
    While Lucy dashed upstairs to see what was happening, Liz carried on chatting to Henry. “Go on. You were talking about the plans to get rid of the library clock. Why can’t the Council just mend it?”
    “Far too costly,” Mr Bacon said, winkling a finger round his hairy ear canal.
    “It’s surely cheaper than knocking it down and installing a new one?”
    Henry shook his head. “Needs specialist attention. Old workings. Cranky. Cheaper to rip it out and put in a digital display.”

    Liz sighed in dismay. “We can’t have flashing neon bulbs in the middle of an old market town like Scrubbley. It’s completely out of character. I shall protest. And so will others.”
    But to her further dismay, Henry leaned forward and said, “Too late, Mrs P. Word has it that the motion has already been passed.