might be out on the deck with his binoculars. Looking for
puffins.
Or that Ben may be sneaking around.”
They scuttled across the ledge on hands and knees. From behind a sheltering rock, they peered down at the floating yacht. The deck was deserted.
Zachary heaved a sigh of relief. Then he gave a little gasp of dismay and pointed to the rocks below.
“Something fishy’s going on,” he said unhappily. “Look at that.”
A figure in a white windbreaker was working its way along the steep face of the hill, feeling at cracks and crevices, pausing every now and then to tap at the rock with a geologist’s hammer.
Sarah Emily drew a shaky breath. “I’m scared,” she said.
“Let’s go see Fafnyr,” Hannah said. “Right now, before anything else happens.”
The three children ducked quickly into the cave. Again, all was suddenly quiet and dark, the crashing roar of the waves gone utterly still. Zachary switched on his flashlight and the children edged their way inward and down, breathing in the tangy odor of smoke and cinnamon — the now-comforting smell of dragon. A streak of gold flashed in the gloom. Zachary’s flashlight had picked up the glitter of dragon scales.
There was a soft hiss as the dragon flamed, and the cave glowed with light. This time the second head was awake. Cool blue eyes surveyed the children. The dragon’s voice was deep and husky. “Hannah, Zachary, Sarah Emily,” the dragon began. “I am inexpressibly delighted to see you once again.”
Then its voice changed and it bent its neck to study the children more closely.
“Something has happened,” said the dragon in a concerned voice.
The children sank down on the cave floor, leaning back against the dragon’s warm golden tail.
“We met some people on the beach,” Sarah Emily said.
“They’re poking all over the island,” Hannah said. “Looking for caves. We were trying to find out what they were doing, but one of them caught us. He grabbed Zachary and yanked him around.”
“The mannerless cad,” the dragon said.
“They all work for Mr. King,” said Zachary. “And he’s written to Aunt Mehitabel, asking for permission to stay on the island.”
“He’s
dangerous,
” Sarah Emily said. She looked from the dragon to her brother and sister. “I just know he’s trying to find out about Fafnyr.”
“But how can he
possibly
know anything about Fafnyr?” Hannah said. “Besides, Aunt Mehitabel will tell him to go away.”
“What if he doesn’t pay any attention to her?” asked Zachary. “She’s in Philadelphia, with a broken ankle. She can’t really do anything. What if he sticks around anyway? How are we going to stop him?”
“We could fight them,” said Sarah Emily doubtfully.
“That’s easy to
say,
” said Zachary. “We’re just kids. And anyway I hate fighting. There are a couple of kids at school who always want to fight, just to see who’s bigger or better. If I don’t fight, they laugh and call names and say I’m a chicken. I’m not a chicken. I just think fighting is stupid.”
The dragon nodded sympathetically.
“Battle,” it said, “is a highly overrated activity.” The blue eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look. “That reminds me of a story,” the dragon said. “A tale of chivalry and honor. Perhaps you would like to hear it?”
“Knights and castles,” said Sarah Emily excitedly. “I love those stories. I’ve been reading all about King Arthur and Sir Lancelot and Guinevere. And the sword in the stone.”
“Fighting,” said Zachary glumly.
The dragon reached out a polished golden claw and smoothed his hair.
“There’s fighting and there’s fighting,” it said. “Just listen.”
The dragon began to speak. As the children listened to its voice, the walls of the cave again seemed to fade. They heard a sudden triumphant flourish of trumpets, the sound of clashing metal, and a thunder of galloping horses’ hooves. Then there came the soft strum of a lute, a
puffins.
Or that Ben may be sneaking around.”
They scuttled across the ledge on hands and knees. From behind a sheltering rock, they peered down at the floating yacht. The deck was deserted.
Zachary heaved a sigh of relief. Then he gave a little gasp of dismay and pointed to the rocks below.
“Something fishy’s going on,” he said unhappily. “Look at that.”
A figure in a white windbreaker was working its way along the steep face of the hill, feeling at cracks and crevices, pausing every now and then to tap at the rock with a geologist’s hammer.
Sarah Emily drew a shaky breath. “I’m scared,” she said.
“Let’s go see Fafnyr,” Hannah said. “Right now, before anything else happens.”
The three children ducked quickly into the cave. Again, all was suddenly quiet and dark, the crashing roar of the waves gone utterly still. Zachary switched on his flashlight and the children edged their way inward and down, breathing in the tangy odor of smoke and cinnamon — the now-comforting smell of dragon. A streak of gold flashed in the gloom. Zachary’s flashlight had picked up the glitter of dragon scales.
There was a soft hiss as the dragon flamed, and the cave glowed with light. This time the second head was awake. Cool blue eyes surveyed the children. The dragon’s voice was deep and husky. “Hannah, Zachary, Sarah Emily,” the dragon began. “I am inexpressibly delighted to see you once again.”
Then its voice changed and it bent its neck to study the children more closely.
“Something has happened,” said the dragon in a concerned voice.
The children sank down on the cave floor, leaning back against the dragon’s warm golden tail.
“We met some people on the beach,” Sarah Emily said.
“They’re poking all over the island,” Hannah said. “Looking for caves. We were trying to find out what they were doing, but one of them caught us. He grabbed Zachary and yanked him around.”
“The mannerless cad,” the dragon said.
“They all work for Mr. King,” said Zachary. “And he’s written to Aunt Mehitabel, asking for permission to stay on the island.”
“He’s
dangerous,
” Sarah Emily said. She looked from the dragon to her brother and sister. “I just know he’s trying to find out about Fafnyr.”
“But how can he
possibly
know anything about Fafnyr?” Hannah said. “Besides, Aunt Mehitabel will tell him to go away.”
“What if he doesn’t pay any attention to her?” asked Zachary. “She’s in Philadelphia, with a broken ankle. She can’t really do anything. What if he sticks around anyway? How are we going to stop him?”
“We could fight them,” said Sarah Emily doubtfully.
“That’s easy to
say,
” said Zachary. “We’re just kids. And anyway I hate fighting. There are a couple of kids at school who always want to fight, just to see who’s bigger or better. If I don’t fight, they laugh and call names and say I’m a chicken. I’m not a chicken. I just think fighting is stupid.”
The dragon nodded sympathetically.
“Battle,” it said, “is a highly overrated activity.” The blue eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look. “That reminds me of a story,” the dragon said. “A tale of chivalry and honor. Perhaps you would like to hear it?”
“Knights and castles,” said Sarah Emily excitedly. “I love those stories. I’ve been reading all about King Arthur and Sir Lancelot and Guinevere. And the sword in the stone.”
“Fighting,” said Zachary glumly.
The dragon reached out a polished golden claw and smoothed his hair.
“There’s fighting and there’s fighting,” it said. “Just listen.”
The dragon began to speak. As the children listened to its voice, the walls of the cave again seemed to fade. They heard a sudden triumphant flourish of trumpets, the sound of clashing metal, and a thunder of galloping horses’ hooves. Then there came the soft strum of a lute, a
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