For several hours Dirk and Alba headed south, above the clouds, occasionally ducking or swerving to avoid airplanes. They flew over the white cliffs of Dover, the English Channel and mainland Europe. Alba spoke incessantly but, to Dirk’s relief, the rushing wind carried her words away unheard. Dirk thought about Holly. He had promised to call her back. He felt bad. She had sounded like she needed his help. He resolved to call her as soon as he got the chance.
He hadn’t flown so far in years and soon his wings grew tired. Instead of flapping them he tried catching rising air currents, which felt warm against his soft green underbelly.
Eventually, with the sun rising and the sky growing lighter, Alba announced, “She lives down here.”
Dirk flew down into the thinner part of the cloud. Below him was a rugged mountainous landscape where a cable-car ride ferried tourists up the rock face to take photos of the spectacular view. Luckily, being so early in the morning there were no tourists to snap pictures of the two dragons swooping down from the sky.
Dirk and Alba landed on a mountainside by a stream. Dirk breathed in the thin early morning air. It was fresh and cool. He surveyed the limestone valley. Living in London it was easy to forget that the world wasn’t entirely crawling with human beings. Humans crammed themselves into the smallest of spaces, huddled together like scared animals, leaving vast areas like this uninhabited.
Alba pointed at a cave, halfway up a rock face, impossible to reach by foot. “That is where we meet every year.”
She spread her wings and flew to the cave, followed closely by Dirk.
The cave was larger than it had appeared from the valley. It was damp and shadowy too. Dirk opened his mouth and breathed fire. His flame caught a pile of branches in the corner, setting them alight and filling the cave with flickering orange light.
“You see, Mr Dirk, she is not here,” said Alba. “She has gone.”
“What’s this?” Dirk noticed a line of grey powder on the cave floor.
“I do not know,” said Alba.
He licked his finger and dabbed it, inspecting it closely. “It’s ash,” he announced.
There was a line of ash around the cave. Dirk followed it.
“What does it mean?”
The trail led him back to where he had started, as though the outline of ash formed an uneven circle. Then it hit him. He stood up on his hind legs and pushed Alba back.
“It can’t be,” he muttered.
“Cannot it be what?” said Alba.
The ash had been smudged by their footprints but the shape was still clear. The head. The wings. The tail. It was the outline of a dragon.
“But no one has seen this in hundreds of years,” said Dirk.
“Seen what this?” asked Alba. “What is it all meaning?”
“A Sky Dragon has materialized here,” said Dirk.
It was the first Saturday of the summer holiday and, after weeks of gazing out of stuffy classrooms at glorious sunny days, the sky was grey with the promise of rain. As Holly got off the bus, large drops began to fall.
She arrived at Dirk’s office and rang the doorbell.
“Who is it?” called Mrs Klingerflim from behind the door.
“It’s me, Holly.”
There was a pause as Mrs Klingerflim fiddled with the countless locks. Eventually, the door opened and her owl-like face appeared. She smiled. “Hello, dear. Nice weather for ducks.”
Holly stepped inside.
“Mind you, just because ducks like sitting on water, it doesn’t mean they like it falling on their heads.” She laughed. “I like sitting on comfy chairs but I wouldn’t want to get caught in a sofa storm.”
“Your umbrella would break,” Holly added. “Is Dirk in?”
“I don’t know – do you want to go and have a look? He was making a terrible racket last night. That awful man next door was complaining.”
Holly took the stairs two at a time and knocked on Dirk’s office door. There was no reply, so she entered his office. It was a tip. Dirk didn’t have the highest cleaning standards at the best of times but this was more than the usual mess. She noticed the smashed television screen.
Mrs Klingerflim followed her in. “Oh dear,” she said.
The rain was coming down so hard outside that it was splashing through the open window, dampening the carpet. Holly closed it. The traffic noises cut out, making the room seem suddenly quiet.
“I wonder where he’s gone.” Holly tidied up the bits of paper from the floor and shifted them into a pile in the corner. She picked up what looked like a black paperweight, then noticed the book on his desk. It was red with a white zigzagged line across the front. She opened it up and read the title.
Dirk had told her about it but he hadn’t let her look at it, worried that she knew too much as it was.
Holly flicked through the pages. They were illustrated with line drawings. She turned to the chapter on Tree Dragons and shuddered at the memory of the ones she had met on her last case with Dirk.
“How long did it take Ivor to write?” she asked.
“His whole life.” Mrs Klingerflim took the book from Holly and looked at it fondly. “Dragon-spotting requires a great deal of patience. Some people think fishing is boring but it’s got nothing on dragon-spotting. Ivor and I would spend every spare moment camping out in some remote spot. Sometimes we would come home after a month having seen nothing. But when you did see one, even just a glimpse, it made it all worthwhile. When you’ve seen the Desert Dragons of California at dusk … well.” Mrs Klingerflim stopped to wipe a tear from her eye. She shut the book.
“Mrs Klingerflim, do you remember when I first came here, I said I was Dirk’s niece?”
“Oh, yes. What a dreadful fib,” said the old lady.
“But if you knew Dirk was a dragon, then you knew I was lying. Why did you let me in?”
“Ah, well. Dragons aren’t the most sociable creatures, are they? They don’t need friends and family like we do. But do you know, since Mr Dilly has been living among us I think he’s picked up some of our habits. In a funny way, he’s become a bit more human. And when you arrived after so cleverly tracking him down, I decided maybe you would make a good friend for him. Oh, look, a note.” Mrs Klingerflim picked up a piece of paper on the desk. She held it right in front of her nose to read it. “It’s no good,” she said. “The writing’s too small for my old eyes. What does it say?”
Holly took the note and read it out loud.
“Ah, mystery solved.”
There was an awkward pause while Holly tried not to feel disappointed that he hadn’t mentioned her in the note.
The silence was broken by the doorbell.
“I wonder who that could be,” said Mrs K, heading down the stairs.
Holly put the note back on the desk, pushed the window open and looked down. There were two men standing on the doorstep: a tall one with a strand of wet hair combed over his head and a shorter one, whose curly red hair was made even curlier by the rainfall. The tall man took a step back and Holly saw his face.
She ducked back inside and shouted, “No, Mrs Klingerflim! Don’t answer it!” She ran to the landing but it was too late. Mrs Klingerflim was already opening the door and saying, “What can I do for you two gentlemen?”
“Ah, yes, please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Arthur Holt and this stocky gentleman is my friend and colleague, Mr Reginald Norman. We are two small-scale philanthropists, looking for ways to help the situation of the neighbourhood’s elderly and infirm, vis-a-vis a non-profit-making all-encompassing service provider.”
“We’re odd-job men,” added the other. “Except we don’t charge.”
The last time Holly had encountered Arthur and Reg, the two crooks were working for the mysterious Vainclaw Grandin, unaware that their boss was in fact a dragon who wanted to conquer and enslave their entire species.
“Well, my guttering needs looking at. Did you say you don’t charge?” asked Mrs Klingerflim.
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Holly tugged her sleeve. “You can’t trust them,” she said in her ear.
“What a charming little girl,” said Arthur, smiling at her. “Is this your granddaughter?”
“No one does odd jobs for free,” said Holly. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“That’s what I thought,” agreed Reg, nodding. “But it’s something to do with feet utensils.”
“What my companion is trying to say is that Reginald and I are foot soldiers of utilitarianism,” said Arthur.
“That’s it,” said Reg.
“It’s a simple philosophy summed up in the sentiment the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people. My companion and I are trying to give something back to society.”
“Not that we’ve taken nothing,” said Reg quickly.
Arthur shook his head solemnly. “Oh, Reginald, let us not forget that we have occasionally stumbled on to the wrong side of the law. But now we are reborn, reformed and at your service.”
“Are you selling something?” said Mrs Klingerflim.
Arthur laughed. “We are but two men standing in front of one elderly lady asking to do her guttering.”
“We don’t want anything from you,” said Holly.
“Fair enough,” said Arthur, backing away. “We understand. Have a good day, the both of you.”
“And be happy,” added Reg.
Mrs Klingerflim closed the door. “What a funny pair,” she said.
“I need to go,” stated Holly urgently.
“You’ve only just got here.”
“Sorry, I’ve just remembered I need to be somewhere.” She thought it best not to tell Mrs Klingerflim that she was actually off to follow the two crooks.
“Why don’t you hang on to this?” said Mrs K, handing her the red book with the white zigzag across the front. “I think you’ll find it quite interesting. Don’t lose it, mind. It’s my only copy.”
“Thanks, I’ll look after it.” Holly slipped the book into her bag and left.
The rain had eased off. Arthur and Reg were on the opposite side of the road, knocking on another door. An elderly man answered. Holly couldn’t hear what they were saying but it looked like they were giving him the same routine. The old man must have bought it because he invited them in. Holly checked for traffic, then crossed the road. Along the side of the house was a path where the residents kept their wheelie bins. The first gate on the right led to the old man’s back garden. Holly headed down the path. She heard the back door open and Arthur’s voice say, “Yes, we are foot soldiers of utilitarianism.”
She peeked through a gap in the wooden fence and saw the crooks walk into the garden and begin raking and tidying up leaves, while casually chatting to the old man.
“Why did you say you were doing this?” asked the man.
“We were once on the wrong side of the law, weren’t we, Reg?” said Arthur.
“That’s right. Rotten as a pair of bad bananas,” said Reg.
“And then we had an awakening.”
“It was like a miracle, weren’t it, Arthur?”
“A miracle, indeed. I remember standing outside a train station somewhere – Stonegarth, I think it was called – when I felt a sharp slap on my cheek.”
“I had the same thing,” added Reg.
“It was as though we awoke from a strange dream,” continued Arthur, “with the clear knowledge that from then on our mission was to make the world a better place.”
“It brings a tear to my eye to think about it,” said Reg. “And not just because of how hard the slap was.”
Holly realized what had happened. The last time she had seen Arthur and Reg they had still been under the powerful hypnotic spell of Dirk’s Dragonsong. She remembered how Dirk had leaned forwards and said something she couldn’t hear. She realized he must have told them to give up crime and dedicate their lives to making the world a better place.
“Where do we put the bag?” asked Reg, tying it up and throwing it over his shoulder.
“Outside the gate, please,” replied the old man.
The ill-fitting gate rattled. Holly quickly pressed herself against the fence and imagined what it was like to be this varnished wooden fence. As the gate opened she turned the same colour as the dark wood, vanishing from sight. Reg dropped the bag next to her. Just then, a phone started to ring.
“I think that’s coming from you,” said the old man.
“You seem to be correct,” said Arthur. “I’d forgotten I even had a phone.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t answer it. It might be one of our old mates, asking us to do some dodgy job,” said Reg.
“If it is indeed a member of the criminal community, a scallywag, a ne’er-do-well, a rogue, I shall inform them of our new path, the long and winding road to happiness.”
“Yeah, good idea,” sad Reg, pulling the gate shut behind him. All three men went back into the house.
Holly moved and her natural colour returned.
“You have got to teach me how to do that,” said an astonished voice.
She froze, then looked behind her to see a boy with blue eyes and dirty blond hair, balanced on top of a fence, staring at her in disbelief. Archie Snellgrove. For the last few weeks at school he had been her tormentor. Now, it appeared, he had just seen her using dragon powers. This was bad news indeed.
“Where are we to going now? Are you believing a Sky Dragon has taken Delfina? Why would they be doing that? Have you ever seen one? I have never seen one. Not materialized, at least.”
Alba Longs was proving to be the most irritating dragon Dirk had ever met. It wasn’t just the incessant chatter, either – she had a very annoying habit of poking Dirk with her claw every time she said something.
The dark chamber of rock shifted around them as they plummeted down. Dirk had asked the rock in Dragonspeak to take them down to the massive network of underground tunnels, where thousands of dragons dwelled, far out of the reach of humans. They were heading for the lithosphere tunnel, the outermost arm of the matrix.
“We’re going to see Karny,” said Dirk.
“Captain Karnataka?” replied Alba. “How can he be helping us? He was the one who sent me to you.”
“Karny always knows what’s going on in the dragon world and now that he’s got thousands of Drakes answering to him he’ll be even better informed. If the Skies are on the move he’ll know about it.”
“I am not sure this is the best plan,” said Alba. “I do not like those Drakes. Horrible creatures.”
Dirk nodded in agreement. Drab-nosed Drakes were fireless, wingless dragons with floppy noses, big bellies and small brains.
The rock beneath Dirk and Alba’s claws pulled away and they dropped into a large tunnel lit with the dim orange glow of earthlight.
Dirk stood up and dusted himself down. “Now, if memory serves me correctly, Dragnet HQ is this way,” he said.
“I do not think the captain will be able to help us.”
“Karny and I go back a long way,” said Dirk, walking down the tunnel. “Besides, it’s his fault I’m involved in this. I’ve still got a case on the go back in London. The sooner I can solve this one, the better.”
“But you care why my sister has been vanished?”
“It’s just work.” Dirk shrugged. “The first thing you learn as a detective is to never let it get personal.”
Behind him, Alba let out a long wailing noise. “Ahhh!” she cried.
“Don’t be so melodramatic,” said Dirk, refusing to turn around.
“Get off me!” squealed Alba.
Dirk spun around to see Alba with a black metal cuff attached to her neck. He felt a sharp pain as an identical cuff snapped round his own neck.
“You is under arrest, boy,” said the dust-grey Drake with the chain attached to his short, stumpy tail.
Dirk reared up on to his hind legs and roared fire, but the flames bounced off the Drake’s armour-like skin. The Dragnet officer swung his tail down, dragging Dirk
to the ground.
“Good work, Junior,” said the Drake holding Alba. “That’s it, show this traitor who’s boss.”
With their long, floppy noses and inflated bellies, Drakes looked almost comical, but Dirk knew well that once a Dragnet officer had a dragon cuffed, there was no way out. Iron or steel Dirk could have bitten through, but Dragnet chains were made from black metal, forged in the liquid fires of the Outer Core. It was ten times stronger than any metal known to humans.
“You hold on tight now, Junior,” said the larger of the two Drakes.
“Sure thing, Pappy,” said the smaller one, swinging his tail so that Dirk felt another painful jolt around his neck.
“You are hurt my skin,” complained Alba.
“On what grounds are you arresting us, Drake?” Dirk addressed the older Drake.
“You speak to Pappy with respect.” The younger Drake yanked Dirk’s chain again.
“Well done, Junior,” said Pappy. “You’ll make a fine Dragnet officer, just like your old pappy and my pappy before me. And his pappy, your great-grand pappy. And his pappy, your great-great-grand—”
“On what grounds?” interrupted Dirk, his head throbbing.
“Tell him, Junior,” said Pappy.
“We is arresting you on grounds that we is currently in a state of emergency as declared by our glorious captain, Karnataka the Fearless.”
“Karnataka the Fearless?” laughed Dirk. He had heard Karny described as a lot of things but never fearless. “Why has Karny declared a state of emergency?”
“The Kinghorns are on the rise,” said Junior. “There’s talk that they’re gathering an army, preparing for the big attack. Captain Karnataka has told us to arrest any dragon acting suspiciously and you two is definitely suspicious.”
“But we are looking for my sister,” said Alba.
“Sounds mighty suspicious to me,” said Pappy. “What do you think, Junior?”
“Mighty suspicious, Pappy.”
“We are not doing anything the wrong,” pleaded Alba.
“The captain has declared a state of emergency,” said Pappy, “and you two is sure-fire criminal types.”
Sky High! Page 3
