Dragon Keepers #1: The Dragon in the Sock Drawer (5 page)

“Read. Books? Scrip. Tor. Eeee. Um!” Emmy said, her head bobbing rapidly.

The cousins looked at each other and put Emmy's syllables together.
“Scriptorium!?!”
they chimed, then shrugged.

Daisy led the way up the steps. Just as she was opening one of the library's double doors, Jesse caught a glimpse of what looked like the million-dollar car reflected in the glass. He whipped around. It was just an ordinary dark green car. Jesse felt a little foolish.
Probably someone who lives on our street has just bought a big black car,
Jesse thought.
I am getting all worked up for nothing.

Mr. Stenson, the weekday librarian, was seated behind his desk. He smiled when he saw the cousins come in. “How are my two most avid young readers?” he asked. “In this computer-crazy world, I can't tell you how nice it is to see a couple of kids who still prefer an old-fashioned book to a newfangled hard drive.”

Jesse and Daisy exchanged a guilty look.

“What are you looking for today?” said Mr. Stenson. “We've got the first book in a brand-new fantasy trilogy. I think you're really going to like it.”

“Is it about dragons?” Jesse wanted to know.

“We're looking for books about dragons,” Daisy told him.

The librarian laughed and said, “You and every other kid in the world. Which one? We have lots of books about dragons.”

“Oh, anything…dragonish, to be exact,” said Daisy.

“Dragon stories, dragon legends, dragon operating instructions…” Jesse trailed off.

“You kids are in luck. Just the other day, I made up a list of the dragon books in our collection,” said the librarian.

He opened a file folder and shuffled through some pages until he found what he was looking for. He gave it a quick look and smiled. “There are some great reads here,” he said.

Emmy must have disagreed with the librarian, because she blew in Jesse's ear and whispered, “Dragon piddle!”

Jesse started coughing to hide his laughter, giving a little hop to shake Emmy down into his hood. “Thanks a lot, Mr. Stenson,” he said.

Mr. Stenson's nose twitched. “Do you two smell something?” he asked.

The cousins looked at Mr. Stenson, their eyes wide.

“I don't smell anything. Do you, Daze?” said Jesse.

“Not me,” said Daisy.

“Strange,” said the librarian. “Not quite sure what it is.” He lifted his nose in the air and sniffed some more. “Burritos? Tacos? Mexican salsa, maybe?”

“Sounds great to me!” said Jesse.

“Yeah,” said Daisy. “When do we eat?”

Mr. Stenson grinned. “It's probably just my hungry tummy manufacturing appetizing aromas.”

“This list looks great,” said Jesse.

“Can we keep it?” said Daisy.

“Be my guest…and happy reading!”

After thanking him again, the cousins went to their regular table in the children's section. They huddled, running their eyes down the list. It filled an entire piece of paper.

“I've got a plan,” said Daisy. She folded the sheet of paper in two and ripped it on the edge of the table. She handed Jesse the top half. “You hunt up those. I'll hunt up the rest. We'll pile the books here on the table and figure out which ones we want to check out first.”

Luckily, the plan soon put Emmy to sleep. Whether it was from the peace and quiet of the library or his steady plodding through the stacks, Jesse didn't care. He was just grateful. When Jesse and Daisy had finished hunting and gathering, they had a small mountain of books on the table.

“Okay,” said Daisy. “Let's set the ones that seem like they might give us useful facts on the right and the ones that are just made-up stuff on the left.”

They went through the books with surprising speed. When they were finished, they had no books on the right and a big stack on the left. They were all probably perfectly wonderful books. It's just that, from what the cousins could tell, they didn't contain much in the way of practical advice on the care and feeding of a baby dragon.

“What about this one?” Jesse said, pointing to the last title on Daisy's half of the list. It wasn't in the pile.

“The Dragon Keeper's Guide?”
she said. “Yeah, that's because it wasn't on the shelf. And the funny thing is,” she added, “it was the only book that was actually listed as nonfiction.”

They returned to Mr. Stenson's desk and asked him about the missing book. He looked it up on his computer and quickly confirmed that there was only one copy and that it was checked out and overdue. “The book's long out of print,” he said.

The cousins went over to the computerized card catalog and looked up
The Dragon Keeper's Guide.
The author was listed as Professor L. B. Andersson, D.D. (Doctor of Draconology). The book had been published in 1877!

“It's old,” said Daisy. “What's in it?”

Jesse leaned toward the screen and read the small print aloud. “Hatchlings, younglings, hoarding, scrying, masking, flaming, soaring, spelling, dreaming, The Time Before.”

There it was on the screen, in black and white.
The Time Before!

After swiftly returning the books to the shelves, the cousins flew home and dashed upstairs to the computer. With Daisy standing behind his chair, Jesse Googled “Professor L. B. Andersson.” Only
four
hits! The first three listings were about the book, which seemed to be the only one the man had ever written, or at least the only one Mr. Google knew anything about. Next to the fourth entry, a Web site was listed.

The site was called
www.foundadragon.org
. Jesse clicked on the link and the home page came up.

On the left side of the screen was a black-and-white drawing of a dragon. It looked very old. On the right was a photograph of a very stern-looking man with long white hair, a long white beard and mustache, and white eyebrows bristling over sparkling black eyes.

Jesse didn't know what to do, so he clicked on the old man's face and was startled when the photograph suddenly came to life. The dark eyes blazed, the long nose twitched, and the mouth beneath the mustache opened and began to speak. “So! You think you have found a dragon?” it boomed at them.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE SORCERER'S SPHERE

“Whoa!” Jesse rolled back in his chair and stared at the screen. “What am I supposed to do now?”

Daisy pointed to the blinking cursor at the bottom of the screen. “Try keying there,” she said.

“Try keying
what
?” he asked. “Did you get a good look at this guy? He's scary!”

“Just tell him yes,” Daisy said patiently, “and see what happens.”

Jesse took a deep breath and rolled back to the computer. He flexed his fingers and keyed, in capital letters, “Y-E-S.”

Once again, the photograph stirred to life and the lips moved. “Very good. What are its salient characteristics?”

“Um, what does ‘salient' mean?” Jesse asked Daisy out of the corner of his mouth.

But it was the man on the screen who answered him: “By ‘salient,' we mean ‘most noticeable; prominent.'”

Jesse stiffened. “How did he do that? Can he actually hear what we're saying? I don't know if I like that,” he added, turning from the screen and cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Of course he can't,” said Daisy. “He probably just expects most people not to understand that word. So go ahead.” She gave his shoulders a gentle squeeze.

“Go ahead and
what
? This guy is giving me the creeps.” Then he caught himself and apologized to the screen. “Excuse me, mister. It's just that I'm not used to a talking…to a talking, um, Web, um…head.”

The picture on the screen remained silent and still.

“Write in her salient characteristics, Jess,” said Daisy. “Why not start with the little green horn?”

Jesse nodded and put his hands on the keys.

“Stop!” the voice roared. Jesse's fingers froze. In a softer tone, the professor said, “It is not necessary for you to type your responses. I can hear you.”

“Yikes!” Daisy grabbed Jesse's neck. “He
can
hear us!”

“I can indeed,” said the professor, “provided you take the trouble to make yourself understood, by which I mean that you must
enunciate
.”

“What does
that
mean?” Jesse asked.

The professor replied, “It means that you must speak clearly and slowly and succinctly,
and not slur your words
! Simply click the mouse when you wish to speak.”

Jesse gaped at the screen.

“Go ahead.” Daisy nudged him. “It's like an interview.”

Jesse clicked the mouse, cleared his throat, and said, loudly and clearly and slowly—exactly the way he spoke to their great-aunt Elizabeth, who was as deaf as a tree stump—“She has this little green horn on her head!”

The professor's face burst into a smile. “Very good!” he said. “But there is no need to shout. I assure you, I am not deaf.”

Jesse blushed.

“Do go on,” said the professor.

Jesse nodded and clicked the mouse once again. At a more moderate volume, he said, “She hatched out of a geode. She has a forked tongue. She likes to eat limestone. She smells like hot chili peppers. She comes from The Time Before—”

“Don't forget to say she can talk,” Daisy whispered.

“Oh, right!” said Jesse. “She talks!”

Just then the left side of the screen lit up. The picture of the dragon turned bright green on a field of dazzling red and began blinking, as if they had just hit the jackpot. The old man's eyebrows lifted, and he grinned. “Bravo!” he told them. “You have found yourself a dragon!”

Even though the cousins already knew this, it was nice to get proper credit for their discovery. When the screen stopped flashing, Jesse clicked the mouse and asked, “Could you tell us what to feed her? I mean, besides limestone.”

“Ah!” said Professor Andersson, stroking his beard. “Most interesting! This is the first instance of actual limestone ingestion I have come across. I suspect that your dragon ate limestone because limestone contains calcium. Your dragon is a hatchling. Hatchlings need large doses of calcium to fuel their initial growth spurt. Feed her foods high in calcium, such as cheese, eggshells, broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, kale, spinach, Brussels sprouts, and dark-leaf lettuce.”

“Great!” said Daisy. “She can have my cabbage and Brussels sprouts any old day of the week!”

The cursor blinked. “What else should we ask?” Jesse wondered. Now that he was in the presence of an actual dragon expert, his mind was blank.

“Wait.” Daisy squeezed her eyes shut to help her remember. “Ask him about some of the stuff in his book. Hoarding, masking, flaming. That kind of stuff.”

Jesse turned to the screen and clicked the mouse again. “What is hoarding?” he asked.

The professor's bushy beard barely concealed a smile as he said, “First Kilimanjaro, then Everest, eh?”

“What's
that
supposed to mean?” Jesse asked.

Daisy thought for a second. “I think it means hold your horses,” she said.

Professor Andersson said, “Let's take one thing at a time, shall we? For now, all that is necessary for you to know is that daily fresh air and exercise are necessary for the development of healthy bones. Keeping a dragon is a considerable responsibility. Do not take it lightly.”

Do not take it lightly.

The cousins turned and searched each other's faces. Where had they heard those words before? Suddenly the entire screen flashed red. The picture of the dragon and the old man vanished. Filling the space now, in large throbbing purple letters, were the words “BEWARE THE DRAGON SLAYER!!!!!”

Then the computer made an odd grinding noise and went blank. A dull message box appeared: “Computer cannot view this page at present. Check with your server or try again.”

“Hey!” Jesse said, pounding the table. “What's the big idea?”

“Try to get back in,” said Daisy.

Jesse rapidly keyed in
www.foundadragon.org
.

Maddeningly, the same message appeared.

“Where did he go?” Jesse wanted to know. “We need him to tell us about the Dragon Slayer! I mean, how can we protect Emmy if we don't know more?”

“We'll try again later,” Daisy said. “I'm starved, aren't you? Let's go to the Dell and have our picnic. Emmy can have the shells of our hard-boiled eggs. Plan?”

“Plan,” said Jesse. He logged off with a discouraged sigh, then they headed down to the kitchen to make lunch.

         

There was a dense patch of laurel bushes at the top of the rise that separated the backyard from the old cow pasture and barn they called the Dell. Jesse and Daisy had to drop to their knees and crawl through a tunnel in the laurels. Just when their knees started to scream, they arrived at the other end of the tunnel and stood up.

The Dell lay before them like a big bowl lined with clover and wildflowers, a rocky brook running through it like a crack. On one side there was the mountain. The Native Americans who had once lived in the area called it the Old Mother because, at certain times of the day, the side of the craggy mountain looked like the face of an old woman, with a waterfall running down it like tears. Behind the big red dairy barn lay the Deep Woods, so-called because they were too dense and dark for the cousins to venture into beyond a few steps. On top of the barn's patched roof was a weather vane of a horse going whichever way the wind blew him.

Emmy struggled out of Jesse's hood and perched on his shoulder. She looked here and there, her pale green throat throbbing like a frog's. She scrabbled her prickly way down Jesse's arm and jumped to the ground. She flung out her forepaws.

“Ma. Ma?” she cried, looking up at the mountain.

“Ma. Ma?” she cried, looking across the pasture to the Deep Woods.

“Ma. Ma?” she cried, looking down at the big red barn. Then she turned her eyes first on Jesse, then on Daisy, and bleated, “Em. Meee. Want. Ma. Ma!”

Jesse and Daisy looked at each other helplessly. What could they say? They had no idea where Emmy's mother was. One thing was fairly certain. Emmy's mother had been dead since The Time Before, whenever that was. But there was no way they could tell Emmy that, not when she was such a baby.

Emmy took off down the hill, making whooping sounds.

The cousins ran after her, but the little dragon kept the lead, her head bob-bob-bobbing above the tops of the clover as she cried, “Ma. Ma! Ma. Ma! Want. Ma. Ma!”

She hopped across the cow pasture and darted through a narrow gap in the barn door. Jesse and Daisy shoved aside the heavy sliding door. Emmy was standing in the middle of the barn with her head raised, having a bawling fit that shook the rafters. “Want. Ma. Ma! NOW!!!!” she repeated in an ear-piercing, heartbreaking wail.

“Can't you do something?” Daisy said, covering her ears and yelling at Jesse over the din. “Pick her up and comfort her!”

Jesse pulled the purple kneesock out of his sweatshirt pouch and put it over his hand. Then he went over and picked up the squalling baby dragon, hoping he could help.

“Hush, Emmy. Hush,” he crooned to her, and snuggled her, as much as snuggling a wailing baby dragon was possible. “Jesse has you.”

Whether it was the sound of his voice or the sight of the kneesock that calmed her, Emmy stopped bawling. She snorted once, blowing dragon snot everywhere, then curled against Jesse's chest. He carried her back out into the sunlight.

Just outside the barn was an area enclosed by a crumbling stone wall, where the grass grew thick and soft. Jesse and Daisy called it the Heifer Yard, and it was their favorite picnic spot. “Would Emmy like some food?” Daisy asked in a soft but eager voice. She began to unload the backpack.

“Fooood!” cooed Emmy.

“Goooood,” Daisy cooed back. She quickly peeled the hard-boiled eggs and set tiny bits of shell on the ground.

Jesse sat cross-legged and held Emmy on his lap. He reached for a piece of shell and offered it to her. She took it in her claws and sniffed it. Then she nibbled. She sighed and hiccuped and said, “Gooood.”

Jesse fed her one bit of shell after another, and she crunched them up as if they were potato chips. When Jesse felt it was safe to do so, he set Emmy down gently next to her eggshell chips and let her help herself.

Then he and Daisy tucked into their soggy tuna sandwiches, with one eye on Emmy, and drank the slightly warm lemonade out of the thermos. Jesse checked his wristwatches. It was three o'clock in Goldmine City and one o'clock in the morning in Africa. He had been so excited this morning that he had not checked his e-mail. Life had gotten very busy all of a sudden.

The afternoon sun poured down on Jesse's shoulders like melted butter and made him feel drowsy. The cousins stretched out on the warm green grass as Emmy finished off the last of her chips and then curled up between them. In no time at all, the three of them were asleep.

         

Jesse awoke with a startled gasp and sat up. He had been dreaming that he was watching a great cloud of dust whirling down the old lane that led to the barn. At the center of the dust cloud was the million-dollar car. It took him a good few seconds of sitting there and blinking at the empty lane to convince himself that the dream wasn't real. His skin prickled with relief.

Daisy was still asleep, but Emmy was wide awake and standing 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.

“I think Emmy likes your locket,” said Jesse.

“Like. Lock. Ket,” the baby dragon agreed. “Like. A. Lot.” Emmy held the locket and chanted, “Lock. Ket. Lock. Ket.”

“That'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.

“See, 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.

“Want. Lock. Ket,” Emmy said, taking the locket back in her shiny green talons.

“Seems 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.

“Lock. Ket. Back. Day. Zee.”

“Thank 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.

“Yikes!” 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.