Dragon of the Red Dawn

by Mary Pope Osborne

  Several people began weeping. Jack felt like crying, too. Right in front of his eyes, the beautiful floating world of Edo was about to go up in flames. “This is hopeless!” he said to Annie.

  “No, it’s not!” Annie said. “The wand! We can use the wand!”

  “Of course!” cried Jack. “But it’s in my bag! Back at Basho’s house!”

  “We have to get it!” said Annie. She shouted to Basho, “Basho, we’re going back to your castle!”

  “Yes, run for safety!” called Basho. “Jump into the river!”

  “Right!” cried Jack.

  “Be careful!” Annie shouted to Basho. Then she and Jack started running as fast as they could. They raced past the market. They ran across the footbridge, past the temple and the farmhouse, and through the grove of pines to Basho’s house.

  Jack and Annie ran inside the tiny hut. Jack grabbed his bag and pulled out the wand. He waved it through the air. “Do something to make the fire stop!” he shouted.

  Jack held his breath and waited.

  “Let me try!” said Annie. She took the wand and waved it. “Stop the fire over Edo now!” she shouted.

  Jack and Annie waited again.

  “It’s not working!” cried Jack. “We must be doing something wrong.”

  “But this is for the good of everyone!” said Annie.

  “I know, I know!” said Jack.

  “And we’ve tried our hardest!” said Annie. “Everybody has!”

  “Five words!” said Jack. “We have to use five words!”

  “Oh, right!” said Annie. She waved the wand through the air again. “Put. Out. The. Fire!” she yelled.

  “One more word!” cried Jack.

  “Please!” shouted Annie.

  Jack and Annie were blasted by a blinding light. Jack felt himself shooting through brightness, then darkness, then back into light. An icy wind blew. The air was crystal-clear. Early sunlight flashed on rock.

  Jack and Annie were standing on the ledge of a mountain.

  “Are you—are you okay?” Annie asked Jack. She was still holding the wand. Her pigtails blew in the bright wind.

  “Yeah, yeah, but what happened?” said Jack in a daze. He was freezing and out of breath. “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know,” whispered Annie.

  Jack shielded his eyes from the brilliant light of the red dawn and looked around. Pink clouds floated through the air like piles of cotton candy. Through a gap in the clouds, he saw hills shrouded in black smoke below. Beneath the smoke, flames rose from the city of Edo.

  “I think we’re on Mount Fuji,” said Annie.

  “Mount Fuji?” said Jack. “That’s crazy! Why are we here?” He stopped to catch his breath. He felt dizzy and light-headed. “Edo’s burning! We should be there!”

  “Maybe the wand didn’t understand,” said Annie. “Maybe it was trying to save us by taking us far away from the fire.”

  Suddenly a great mass of thick clouds piled up, ringing the mountaintop like a wall. The clouds swirled and whirled and tumbled. They changed color, from rose to gold to gray to white.

  “What’s going on?” cried Jack.

  The head of a gigantic monster rose from the bubbling clouds!

  “AHHH!” Jack and Annie screamed. They grabbed each other and crouched down on the rocky ledge.

  The monster had spiky eyebrows and long, curled whiskers. It had the horns of a deer, the forked tongue of a snake, and the fiery breath of a dragon. Through the swirling clouds, Jack and Annie could see the dragon’s snake-like body curling through the clouds and down the mountainside. Its back was covered with shiny scales. Its spine had a row of shark-like fins.

  The dragon reached out its claws. They were like the claws of an eagle—only a thousand times bigger! The claws gripped the side of the mountain.

  Jack made himself as small as he could. He covered his head. But Annie jumped to her feet. “I get it!” she cried. “I know what’s happening! Thank you for coming!”

  “Annie, get down!” Jack shouted.

  “Jack, it’s the Cloud Dragon!” said Annie. “The puppet show—remember? The wand sent her here!”

  “What? Why?” cried Jack.

  “She makes rain! Don’t you remember? Rain!” cried Annie. “She commands the rain clouds!”

  The dragon lowered her giant head, stretching it over the mountain ledge. Her scales glittered honey-gold in the dawn light. She was still, very still, as if she were waiting for something.

  “Come on! We have to climb on her back!” shouted Annie.

  “Why?” cried Jack.

  “We have to go with her!” said Annie. “The wand brought us to the dragon! Now it’s up to us to show her what to do!”

  “Okay! Okay!” said Jack.

  Annie climbed onto the back of the Cloud Dragon. She sat between two of the dragon’s shark-like fins. Jack climbed on behind her. He gripped the fin in front of him as if he were holding on to the horn of a saddle.

  “Fly over the fire!” yelled Annie. “Make rain!”

  “Lots of it!” shouted Jack.

  The Cloud Dragon slid off the mountain ledge. Jack trembled with cold as the monster slithered through the freezing sea of clouds, like a snake through the grass.

  Above Edo, Jack looked down. Billowing black smoke and red flames shot into the dawn sky.

  “Now! Rain now!” Jack said. The Cloud Dragon reared back her head. Great black clouds flowed from her mouth. The clouds spread across the sky. There was a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning. Then rain began to pour down on the city.

  The dragon twisted her head this way and that. More clouds blew from her mouth, and more rain fell on the burning city of Edo.

  As the dragon slithered through the sky, breathing out mountains of storm clouds, rain fell

  on the flat lands of the rice fields,

  on the Imperial Garden,

  the samurai castles,

  the fish market,

  and the Great Bridge.

  Rain fell on the floating world of inns and stages, teahouses, temples, and farms.

  Rain fell on the lumberyard and the pine forest and the canals.

  Slowly the rain washed away all the smoke and flames. Even after the fires of Edo no longer flickered, the Cloud Dragon breathed more black clouds, and the rain kept falling, falling steadily, soaking the gardens and fields, filling the shallow rivers and dried-up ponds.

  “The fire’s out!” Jack shouted.

  “Take us to Basho’s!” Annie yelled to the dragon.

  The Cloud Dragon twisted her giant body. She slid through the dark clouds. Then she reared up—until Jack and Annie couldn’t hold on any longer and they were falling backward, somersaulting through the air!

  SPLASH! SPLASH!

  Jack sank to the bottom of the river. He flailed his arms and struggled to the surface. His head bobbed up—he spewed out water and gasped for air. He had lost his glasses. He dove back down and grabbed them from the river bottom, then swam back to the surface. Treading water, he wiped his glasses, then put them on.

  “Hi!” Annie yelled. She was holding the wand in the air, above the water.

  “Hi!” Jack yelled back.

  Jack and Annie swam toward the bank of the river. They swam until their feet could touch bottom. Then they dragged themselves out of the water and collapsed on the muddy bank.

  They had lost their socks and sandals. Their silk kimonos clung to their bodies. Dripping wet, they gasped for breath and looked up at the sky.

  Big drops of rain splashed on their faces. There was no sign of the Cloud Dragon. But the cool rain kept falling, bathing the floating world of Edo.

  “We did it!” said Annie. “We made our own magic!”

  “Yeah, we got the Cloud Dragon to put out the fire,” breathed Jack. He felt dazed. “Do you think we’re near Basho’s house?”

  “I think so,” said Annie. “We asked the Cloud Dragon to take us there, so I bet she did. Come on,
let’s find Basho.”

  Jack and Annie stood up and started walking along the edge of the river. They walked barefoot through the mud, under dripping trees.

  “Hey, there’s the clearing,” said Annie.

  Jack and Annie headed toward the clearing beyond the trees and tall grass.

  “Oh, no!” cried Annie. “Look!”

  In the clearing, rain was falling on the charred ruins of Basho’s house. The shingled roof and the bamboo walls of the little hut had burned and collapsed.

  “Where’s Basho?” said Jack, scared.

  “There!” said Annie.

  The famous poet sat on a log next to his banana tree in the gray rain. His clothes were blackened. His face was covered with soot. He clutched his writing box.

  “Basho!” yelled Annie.

  Basho looked up. A smile crossed his dirty, weathered face. “I looked for you by the river, but didn’t see you!” he said. “I am glad you are safe.”

  “We’re glad you’re safe, too,” said Jack.

  “But your castle! Your castle burned down,” said Annie.

  “Yes. It burned before the miracle of the rain,” said Basho, sighing.

  Jack and Annie sat on the log next to him. Through the smoky drizzle, they all stared at the rubble. Trees and plants dripped with rain. A pigeon cooed.

  For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Annie broke the silence. “I’m glad you still have your banana tree,” she said. “I like the sound of the rain falling on the leaves.”

  Basho looked up, but didn’t say anything.

  “Yeah, and I like the sound of the river,” said Jack. “It’s louder now since the rain came.”

  Basho tilted his head as if listening to the rain on the leaves of the banana plant and to the steady rushing sounds of the river. His face softened. “Yes, I like those things, too,” he said. He held up his wooden box. “And I still have my poems.”

  “Don’t worry, Basho,” said Annie. “Everything can be built again.”

  “And your castle will be even more beautiful than before,” said Jack.

  Basho smiled. “I suppose that is why the ancients called our fires ‘the flowers of Edo,’” he said.

  “What do you mean?” asked Jack.

  “After something is destroyed by fire, a good new thing often takes its place,” said Basho. “Just as after the bleakest winter, beautiful flowers return with the spring.”

  “I’m sure you’ll make many beautiful flowers,” said Annie.

  “Thank you,” said Basho. “I am sorry, though, that you and Jack will not have a place to stay now.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Annie. “We have to travel back to our own house.”

  “How far away is that?” asked Basho.

  “Very far,” said Annie. She and Jack stood up. “But we just need to get back to the Imperial Garden. We’ll know the way from there.”

  “Good,” said Basho. He stood up. “Come, I will accompany you back to the garden.”

  “Thanks, that would be great!” said Jack.

  Basho picked up his walking stick. Then he led Jack and Annie along the bank of the river. Through the light drizzle, they saw a ferryboat moving upstream. Basho waved, and the pilot steered the boat to shore.

  Jack and Annie followed Basho onto the ferry. The three of them sat together on a wooden bench. The other passengers stared at them. Many had ashes on their clothes and soot on their faces. Jack was relieved to see that no samurai were on board.

  “Greetings, Master Basho,” the pilot said. The other passengers nodded respectfully to Basho. They smiled as if the presence of the great poet gave them hope.

  “The rains were a miracle, were they not, Master Basho?” an old woman said.

  “Indeed they were,” said Basho.

  “I guess the Cloud Dragon showed up just in time,” said Annie.

  “Annie,” whispered Jack.

  Basho smiled at her. “I am afraid no one believes in the Cloud Dragon anymore, Annie,” he said. “But it is lovely to pretend, is it not?”

  “Yes, it is lovely,” said Annie.

  The rain stopped as the ferryboat traveled on up the river. Mist rose from the water, and birds began to sing.

  When they passed the teahouses, Jack and Annie saw firefighters cleaning up after the fire, sweeping up broken tiles and scrubbing the walkways. Waiters were bringing them tea.

  The sun was shining by the time they passed the puppet stage and the charred lumberyard. Wisps of smoke still rose from the black piles of burned logs.

  The ferryboat floated on through the bright morning. It glided under the Great Bridge and past the crowded fish market. Fishermen were hauling in their catch from the night before.

  By the time they moved past the samurai castles and came near the moat of the Imperial Garden, the sun had completely dried out Jack’s and Annie’s kimonos.

  The boat pulled up to the landing. Basho helped Jack and Annie onto the dock. He waved good-bye to the boat passengers.

  Jack, Annie, and Basho walked over the stone bridge that crossed the moat. They walked through the massive gate in the high wall. Then they followed the paths of the Imperial Garden, around the big rocks and the pond with the swans.

  Jack kept an eye out for horses and samurai warriors. But the garden was as peaceful as when they had first landed. It was filled with birdsong. The willows swayed. Water from the waterfall tumbled into the green pool. Jack caught sight of the sun shining on the tree house high in the cherry tree.

  Jack stopped walking. “We know our way home from here,” he said to Basho.

  “Are you certain?” asked Basho. He did not seem to notice the tree house in the cherry tree.

  “We’re sure,” said Annie. “Once we start on our way, the trip will be easy.”

  Basho nodded. “You remind me of the famous saying of the samurai Musashi,” he said. “‘A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.’”

  “I’ve heard that saying before,” said Jack.

  “Words can outlive their creators,” said Basho. “Though I will never be so lucky as to have mine outlive me.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that,” said Annie.

  Basho gave them a little smile. “I hope you both will return to Edo someday,” he said. “Look for me when you come back. I should have a lovely new castle on the river by then.”

  “Thanks,” said Jack.

  “Good-bye,” said Annie.

  They both bowed to Basho.

  Basho bowed to them. Then the great poet turned and left them. Falling cherry blossoms floated on the wind as he walked away.

  Jack and Annie watched Basho until they could no longer see him. Then they turned to go. Just as they started walking, a man stepped out from the shadows of the garden. The man wore a blue coat and two swords hung from his belt.

  “Excuse me,” said the samurai. “May I see your passports, please?”

  Jack couldn’t speak.

  “Our passports?” said Annie. “They—um— they got destroyed in a fire—on the other side of the Great Bridge.”

  The samurai narrowed his eyes. “Your passports burned?.” he said. “Why were you on the other side of the Great Bridge?”

  “We were with Master Basho,” said Jack.

  “Master Basho?” said the samurai.

  “Yes,” said Annie. “We are students of his.”

  “Ah!” The samurai’s expression brightened. “So you study poetry with Master Basho?”

  “Yes,” said Annie. “Would you like to hear some poems?”

  Oh, no! thought Jack. Not again!

  “Yes, please,” said the samurai.

  “No problem.” Annie thought for a moment and then said: “Here’s a simple little poem.” She recited:

  Rain falls outside,

  But the tiny cricket on the hearth

  Is dry tonight.

  The samurai nodded. “Hmm,” he said. “Yes. Very simple, but very lovely.”

  “Thank you,
” said Annie.

  The man turned to Jack. Jack could hardly breathe. His mind was blank. He looked to Annie for help. But Annie just smiled, waiting to hear his poem.

  Jack cleared his throat. He tried to stay calm. He closed his eyes and let his mind roam over their visit to Japan. He opened his eyes. He looked up at the cloudless sky and said:

  The sun is shining,

  The day is hot.

  But moonlight

  And cool breezes

  Still fill my heart,

  Left over from last night.

  “Whoa!” whispered Annie. “Good!”

  “Yes, very good!” said the samurai. He looked at the sky. “The moonlight, the cool breeze,” he mused, “left over from the night. Very good. Master Basho has taught you well!”

  The samurai strolled away, shaking his head and murmuring to himself. He let out a happy laugh, as if delighted with the day.

  Jack couldn’t believe it. They were free! “Hurry, let’s go,” he said. “Before someone else sees us!”

  Jack and Annie ran to the rope ladder and started up. As soon as they climbed inside the tree house, Jack grabbed the Pennsylvania book. He found a picture of the Frog Creek woods. “As the famous samurai once said, ‘A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step,’” said Jack.

  “Or one sentence,” said Annie.

  “Right,” said Jack. He pointed at the picture. “I wish we could go home.”

  Annie gasped. “Wait a minute!” she said. “We forgot our mission!”

  “What?” said Jack.

  But the wind started to blow.

  The tree house started to spin.

  It spun faster and faster.

  Then everything was still.

  Absolutely still.

  The early-morning air was cold.

  Jack and Annie were back in Frog Creek, wearing their own clothes. Jack’s burlap bag was a backpack again. He looked inside to make sure the Wand of Dianthus was there. It was. And Basho’s frog poem was there, too.

  “I can’t believe it!” said Annie. “We didn’t look for a secret of happiness for Merlin. How could we forget that?”

  “Oh, man,” said Jack. “We were so busy worrying about the samurai and putting out the fire that we forgot our mission.”