Rain & Fire (9 page)
Authors: Chris d'Lacey
“Can I have another look?” Lucy took the page onto her knees again, turning it through several angles. “It reminds me a bit of the marks I saw on a wall in that cave on the Tooth of Ragnar.”
“The Tooth of Ragnar?” Steiner jerked back as if
he'd been shot. “You've been there? But that island is â or rather was â in one of the remotest parts of the Arctic. Were you taken there on a school trip or something?”
“Erm ⦠something,” Lucy replied, putting the sheet down on the coffee table. Her mind flashed back five years to when she'd been abducted by Gwilanna and taken to the island as a part of the sibyl's bungled attempt to raise Gawain from the dead. Many times she'd been left to fend for herself, with nothing but wild mushrooms to eat and a female polar bear for company. That had been one heck of a “school trip.”
“How extraordinary,” Rupert said. “You must have been awfully young. You were lucky to visit it before it was destroyed by volcanic activity. The Tooth of Ragnar is a fascinating place, steeped in all sorts of Inuit myth. Why â”
“Just a moment, Professor.” Liz cut him off and turned her attention to Gwendolen, who'd just given out a startled hurr. The little dragon was on the coffee table, standing by the sheet of paper.
“What's the matter?” Liz asked her.
The professor steered his gaze between the dragon and the woman. “Goodness! Can you converse with it?”
“Yes,” said Liz, without looking up. “Go on, Gwendolen.”
Gwendolen stepped forward and pointed to the writing.
I know how to read it,
she hurred.
“How?” said Lucy.
It's dragontongue,
Gwendolen said (rather proudly).
Lucy moved her aside. “Dragontongue? I didn't even know you could write it down.”
“Me neither,” Liz admitted, sitting back, stunned. She glanced at Arthur, who was stroking his chin in what she always called his “pondering” mode.
“Elizabeth's dragons speak a language roughly akin to Gaelic, Rupert. It's possible to learn it, given time.”
Steiner bent over the coffee table and peered at Gwendolen as if she were a prize. The dragon warily flicked her tail. She hurred again at length.
“Did she speak then? I thought I saw smoke. And did her eyes also change color?”
“You're making her nervous,” said Liz. “She wouldn't normally be allowed to act this freely in human company and you shouldn't, by rights, be able to see her. Somehow, Gadzooks must have made that possible.”
“Speaking of which ⦔ Lucy gestured a hand.
Liz glanced at the writing again. “Gwendolen has just explained that the curves on the paper are like the way she moves her throat to make growling sounds.”
“Yeah, but what does it say?” pressed Lucy.
Gwendolen gathered her eye ridges together and frowned at the markings again. It was not a word she recognized, she said, but she thought she could speak the pronunciation correctly. She cleared her throat and uttered a long, low hurr.
Lucy glanced at her mother, who gave the translation. “Scuffenbury,” said Liz.
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After a chat with David, Lucy now thinks she knows a bit more about why Gadzooks wrote “Scuffenbury” on Professor Steiner's parchment.
“Scuffenbury” in dragontongue
At the end of the last dragon era, it came to a point where there were just twelve left. Driven from their aeries by wild-hearted men who knew no better than to kill a creature they couldn't tolerate and didn't understand, the dragons came together and decided to surrender. They didn't give themselves up for capture or sacrifice; they just refused to fight anymore. This, to me, is the saddest story ever. I grow tired of people who only think of dragons as fire-breathing, maiden-snatching, cave-dwelling monsters. Dragons had heart. Morals. Courage. Zanna always says they were the spiritual guardians of the Earth, and for once I agree with her. We don't really know what happened to the twelve. The legend is they separated and flew away to isolated places, remote volcanic islands and the like, where they could live out their lives in peace, and where they could eventually die in peace. Up until yesterday, the only location I knew about was the Tooth of Ragnar, where Gawain set down. Now, if David is telling the truth, there's one hidden underneath Glissington Tor, close to Scuffenbury Hill, not a million miles from here.
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Professor Steiner has also informed Liz and Lucy that he has seen dragontongue written before â in some photographs of wall markings taken in caves at a place called the Hella glacier. Henry Bacon, the Pennykettles' next-door neighbor, tells David of an incident that happened there when Henry's grandfather was part of an expedition to explore the area in 1913. A fellow explorer had disappeared there in unusual circumstances â lost, presumed dead. Lorel is a polar bear captured in a photograph on the study wall.
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“People say he wandered off to find his watch.”
“What?”
“Had a risky incident a few months before. Found himself stranded near a native settlement with a large male polar bear for company. No rifle, and too far away from camp to summon help. All he had with him was a pocket watch. Played a tune when you opened the casing. Our fellow set it down in front of the bear. Story goes, the beast swaggered up to the watch, sat down, and listened. Our man backed off and escaped to camp.
Went back with his comrades twenty minutes later, but the watch and the bear had both disappeared.”
“Who was this man?” David asked nervously.
Henry turned the book around. He pointed to a plate at the bottom of a page. “Third from the left. Fair-haired. Scandinavian.”
David cast his eyes down.
It was Dr. Bergstrom.
As David's mind wrestled with the incredible conundrum of how a man in his forties who lectured at Scrubbley College could look exactly like a polar explorer reported missing in 1913, the house came alive with the trill of telephones. David thought he detected four at least. Henry snapped the book shut and returned it to the shelf. “Something amiss, boy? You look a bit pale.”
“I'm fine,” said David, “just ⦠thinking, that's all.” He cupped his hand around Gadzooks and looked through the slatted window blinds. There was a good view of the Pennykettles' garden from here. He picked out Lucy right away, still by the brambles, puttering
about with her hedgehog book. A slightly moody-looking Bonnington was sitting near the rock garden, paws tucked under his tummy, watching. And in the center of the lawn, as if a cloud had dripped and left a great white blot, lay the hunk of ice that had once been a snowbear, still surviving despite the rain. As Henry lifted a phone and the house became silent, David thought about Lorel and turned to look at the bear print again. For a fleeting moment he became the bear, looking back into the lens of Bergstrom's camera. And from somewhere between the bear and the man, from the bright cold wilderness of frozen ages, from the leaves of books, from the creaking timbers of icebound vessels, came a voice like a wind from another world, saying,
There was a time when the ice was ruled by nine bears â¦
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(⦠which is a whole other story: Chris's own massive
White Fire
Arctic saga. But you can read a little more about the nine bears in
Icefire
.)
There was a time when the ice was ruled by nine bearsâ¦.
And finally, I can't close this section without bowing to the wishes of a huge number of fans who have begged
to know why all the dragons' names begin with a
G
. The answer is in
Dark Fire
, but for those of you who haven't read that far yet, here goes. A little preamble from Arthur first, then the reveal by Gwilanna (she's got to be good for something).
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“When I was at the abbey, I had a dream. I saw the universe created from the outgoing breath of a dragon called Godith. Everything was born from the fire of that dragon. A white fire. Auma in its purest sense. You and I, this physical world we inhabit, came into being when the fire cooled down to a low enough vibration to produce ingenious combinations of atoms and molecules.”
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Hy-dragon, rather then hydrogen, one assumes. Well, we humans nearly got it right!
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“The letter
G,”
said Zanna, wishing more than anything she'd brought Gretel with her. The potions dragon would have been working on escape routes from the
start. Moments to live? What was the crazed witch talking about?
“Not just any
G,”
Gwilanna drawled on. “A
G
curling into an isoscele. It represents the tail of their creator, the she-dragon, Godith. Haven't you ever wondered why dragons copy it into their names? To have the sign of Godith on your breath is a mark of respect. Really, girl, you're such a waste. You could have learned so much from me.”
So now you know.
T
he first book in the series,
The Fire Within
, is an apparently simple, straightforward, and charming story about a young man who comes to stay as a tenant with a single-parent family, helps rescue an injured squirrel, and makes the acquaintance of a few clay dragons along the way.
Even if it was that simple, it gives absolutely no clue as to the power and profundity yet to come in the rest of the books. The stories get deeper, darker, and much more complex as they progress, while still retaining their trademark humor â from slapstick to black comedy â even in the direst of circumstances.
The story lines range from cozy domestic drama to an interdimensional war between races of thought-beings,
into which humans are in danger of being dragged. There is mystery, danger, and adventure by the bucket-load, and this chapter gives a glimpse of what happens in each.
The series starts with David Rain about to move into the Pennykettle household on Wayward Crescent. David is marveling at one of the small clay dragons he has seen all around the house ever since he first walked in the door of Liz and Lucy's home. He does not yet know that they can come to life.
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There was a fiery pride in its oval-shaped eyes as if it had a sense of its own importance and knew it had a definite place in the world. Its tall slim body was painted green with turquoise hints at the edges of its scales. It was sitting erect on two flat feet and an arrow-shaped tail that swung back on itself in a single loop. Four ridged wings (two large, two small) fanned
out from its back and shoulders. A set of spiky, flaglike scales ran the entire length of its spine.
David picked it up â and very nearly dropped it. “It's warm,” he said, blinking in surprise.
“That's because â”
“It's been in the sun too long,” said Mrs. Pennykettle, quickly cutting her daughter off. She lifted the dragon out of David's hands and rested it gently back on the shelf.
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David soon learns that Liz Pennykettle makes these dragons, styled in a variety of poses and often with certain characteristics emphasized. She sells some of them at the market in Scrubbley. Liz has a studio in a room upstairs, called the Dragons' Den, and the new tenant is told in no uncertain terms by Lucy that he is not allowed to enter. Needless to say, this piques David's curiosity, but he manages to stifle the impulse to have a sneaky look in, at least for a while.
In the meantime, Lucy, who is very fond of wildlife, implores David to help her to find an injured squirrel
she has seen in the garden, and which she has named Conker. David agrees after some cajoling, but upon meeting the Pennykettles' next-door neighbor, Henry Bacon, he realizes that he will have competition for this task. Henry's interest in capturing the squirrel is not benevolent, as he believes that squirrels have been responsible for eating his flowers and digging up his bulbs. To this end, he has gotten the town council to chop down a grand old oak tree that used to be home to a whole group of these creatures, which have now disappeared from the area. Only Conker is left behind.
Back in the Dragons' Den, Liz has been making a “special” dragon for David as a housewarming gift. Despite Lucy's dire warning for him to stay out of the studio, Mrs. Pennykettle invites him in, where he gets introduced to several of the small dragons who are resident in the household. David's dragon turns out to be similar to the other dragons, except that it (he) is holding somethingâ¦.
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⦠It had a pencil wrapped in its claws and was biting the end of it, lost in thought.
“Hope you like him,” said Liz. “He was ⦠interesting to do.”
“He's wonderful,” said David. “Why does he have a pencil?”
“And a pad?” said Lucy, pointing to a notepad in the dragon's other paw.
“It's what he wanted,” said Liz, coming to join them. “I tried him with a book, but he just didn't like it. He definitely wanted a pencil to chew on.”
“Perhaps he's a drawing dragon,” said Lucy. “Do you like drawing pictures?”
David shook his head. “Can't draw for anything. What do you mean, he âwanted' a pencil?”
Liz lifted a shoulder. “Special dragons are like characters in a book; I have to go where they want to take me. I have a writer friend who's always saying that.”
Lucy let out an excited gasp. “You mean he's a dragon for making up stories?!”
“Lucy, don't start,” said Liz. “Now, David, if you accept this dragon you must promise to care for him always.”
“You mustn't ever make him cry,” said Lucy.
David ran a thumb along the dragon's snout. “Erm, this might sound like a silly question, but how is it possible to make him cry?”
“By not loving him,” said Lucy, as if it ought to be obvious.
“Imagine that there's a spark inside him,” said Liz.
“If you love him, it will always stay lit,” smiled Lucy.
“To light it, you must give him a name,” said Liz.
“Something magic,” said Lucy. “Think of one â now!”
David had a think. “How about ⦠Gadzooks?”
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Now that Lucy knows Gadzooks is a writing dragon, she asks David to make up a story for her about how Conker damaged his eye. Initially, David refuses. But later, with Gadzooks's help, he begins a tale about
Conker and another squirrel named Snigger, as a present for Lucy on her birthday. This story turns out to be not only a recounting of events that have already occurred, but also a prophetic scribing of the near future. Whatever David writes about, happens.
In time, David and Lucy do manage to catch both Conker and Snigger (the latter accidentally). Along with Liz, they take the two squirrels to the vet at a wildlife hospital, where Sophie, a young woman David likes, works. Snigger is given a clean bill of health, but Conker is not so fortunate. He is given only a short time to live. Hoping to give the dying animal a last few happy days, the group releases the squirrels in the library gardens. David manages to finish his story for Lucy, but the ending is very rushed and unsatisfactory. David is trying to give it a positive outcome, but becomes frustrated and ignores Gadzooks when this seems impossible. Gadzooks becomes very unhappy, to the point where he is in danger of crying his fire tear.
A fire tear is something that a dragon cries at the end of its life. Inside it is all the fire that was within
the dragon throughout its existence. This tear then falls off the dragon's snout, drops onto the ground, and finds its way back to the fire at the center of the Earth, from whence it originally came. The only exception to this is related in a legend that runs through
The Fire Within
. This legend concerns Gawain, the last-known real (or “natural”) dragon in the world, and after whom one of Lucy's “special” dragons is named.
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David yawned and snuggled into his pillow, faintly aware of movement on the bed. It felt lighter, suddenly. More freedom to move. He stretched his legs and cuddled Winston. His body relaxed. His mind drifted. He saw Gawain on a mountaintop, silhouetted against the shimmering moon; Guinevere, wrapped in a kind of shawl, singing into the shell of his ear. Gradually, the dragon lowered his head. His spiked tail drooped. His scales fell flat. His oval eyes, long-closed and weary, blinked one final, fiery time. His life expired in a snort of vapor. But in that moment, a teardrop formed. A living teardrop, on his snout. A violet flame in a dot
of water. It trickled down his face to the tip of his nostrils and fell, sparkling, into Guinevere's hands.
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But could she survive the power of the dragon's auma? And can David correspondingly save Gadzooks from shedding his own fire tear? What happens when David rewrites the end of Lucy's story? And what has Spikey, the hedgehog, got to do with it all? Well, some things are best revealed by reading the bookâ¦.
The second book in the Last Dragon Chronicles series opens with David receiving the latest in a long line of rejection letters from various publishers. He has been trying repeatedly to get his squirrel story accepted, but with no success so far.
By now, David has discovered that, as a child, Liz was given a mysterious snowball, a pinch of which enables her to bring her clay dragons to life. He is interested to find out the secret of this “icefire,” which he
knows is guarded by polar bears in the frozen north. When the enigmatic Professor Bergstrom, a visiting academic at the college, tells him about a competition to win a research trip to the High Arctic in Canada, David is desperate to win it. The rules, though, are rather unusual. He must write an essay about whether dragons ever existed on the Earth. David decides to ask Liz for information. At the same time, he begins writing a second book,
White Fire
, about the Arctic and polar bears.
David gets further help for his essay from a Goth girl named Zanna, who is taking the same course as him. She offers to lend him a book on dragons. As his girlfriend, Sophie, is now away working in Africa for eight months, David feels somewhat awkward about inviting Zanna to Wayward Crescent, especially since Liz and Lucy have gone out that afternoon. Nevertheless, he shows Zanna the Dragons' Den. While there, she spies a wishing dragon, G'reth, made by Lucy, and a bronze clay egg. Zanna persuades David to make a wish.
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David screwed up his face. “I'm not playing wishing games.”
“It's not a game, dummy. You're raising his auma.
Believe.
Wish for something â about Gawain.”
“Such as?”
“Such as finding out where his
fire tear
is hidden?”
David stepped back, shaking his head. “No. That's not a good idea.”
Not here,
he thought,
with all these dragons looking on.
Zanna grabbed him by the sleeve and tugged him forward. “The fact that you're afraid of this only confirms you think it could happen. Do you want to know the truth or not?”
David sighed and looked away.
This is ridiculous,
he told himself. It won't work. It can't work. A wishing dragon? It was the stuff of fairy tales. But knowing he'd get no peace until he tried, he touched his thumbs to G'reth's smooth paws.
“Careful,” whispered Zanna, “you're making him wobble.”
David steadied his hands and tried again. “I wish,” he whispered, “that I knew the secret of Gawain's fire tear.”
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Zanna, meanwhile, who feels oddly drawn to the clay egg, somehow manages to “kindle,” or awaken, it. These two actions result in an immediate response from the Universe.
An evil sibyl named Gwilanna turns up, calling herself “Aunty Gwyneth.” She claims to be a relation of Liz and Lucy's. She demands to see Liz, who arrives home almost at the same moment. Gwilanna has been “called” by the wisher, and is surprised to detect a powerful auma change in Liz, denoting that she is the equivalent of pregnant (“eggnant”?) because of the kindling of the bronze egg by Zanna.
In theory this pregnancy should not be possible. Gwilanna believes that Liz's auma is getting stronger, while, with all the other descendants of Guinevere (for that is what Liz and Lucy are) it is getting weaker, generation by generation, as expected. “Aunty Gwyneth” questions why this exception might be so. Getting no
response from either Liz or Lucy on the subject, she determines to interrogate the wishing dragon instead. Gwilanna demands help from Gretel, another Pennykettle dragon, who belongs to her and is under her power.
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G'reth gulped and swallowed a plug of smoke. Under normal circumstances, this would not have caused any problems for him. But the fact that he was hanging upside down, tail knotted around a thin wire coat hanger, which in turn was hooked around the lightbulb holder swinging precariously left and right, had brought on a dreadful bout of coughing, which only added to his predicament â and his fear.