Elemental Dragons Book 1: Blood and Water

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Elemental Dragons Book 1: Blood and Water Page 4

by Jessica Turnbull


  “Rocky,” I pull on my brother’s arm until his angry gaze turns back to me. “Do you still have your stuff from First Year?”

  “Like what?”

  “Your textbook, and your stuff from starting out with Cerberus.”

  His gaze hardens in concentration. “I think I’ve still got the textbook, at the bottom of my drawer. Why, do you want it?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Sure, follow me.” He tells Cerberus to behave before leading me into the cabin.

  Inside it is exactly like mine, but black splotches dot the ceiling and walls. They look like burn patches. Rocky walks all the way down to the end to a large set of beige drawers, digging through his clothes until he reaches the bottom; a thick A4-sized textbook in his arms. He throws it onto his bed, huffing with effort.

  “Good luck carrying it around.”

  Marco groans. “I hated that thing. Firstly, carrying it, secondly reading through the boring pages of text. A few more pictures would have brightened it up.”

  The textbook is a solid red with the words: ‘Year One – Core Textbook’ printed on the spine in black. Some of the corners of the pages are peeling back, but apart from that it’s in good condition.

  “Thanks. You wouldn’t happen to have your starter kit, would you?”

  Rocky shakes his head sadly. “No, Cerberus chewed through all that.”

  “Great.”

  “Why? How much is it? I’ll get it for you.”

  “Forty.”

  “Forty quid?!” His mouth hangs open in shock. “They were twenty-five last year!”

  “I don’t know what to do,” I confess. “It’s really important, and there’s no way we can afford it.”

  “Not to mention the two kits after that.” Rocky bites his lip.

  Three kits? One should really suffice!

  Unfortunately, money is what keeps Aria going. Because they have no competitors, they can set the price as high as they want for a profit. It’s not fair.

  “I’ll buy it for you.” Marco shuffles his feet uncomfortably when all eyes turn to him. “I missed your fifteenth, so consider it a birthday present.”

  Marco’s father is a plastic surgeon, and his mother is a famous musician, so Marco has grown up surrounded by money all his life. It’s no wonder he got a premier dragon.

  “Really? You don’t-”

  “I know, but I will. But, you have to hug me-”

  I’m in his arms before he can finish his sentence. “Thank you!”

  I know Rocky must be seething, but I try to ignore it. He just can’t see that Marco is a good friend. Hell, he’s buying me a starter kit, and he doesn’t even have to.

  “Alright,” Rocky’s voice is filled with venom. “We’ll go by the shop as we take the textbook home. No-one will want to carry it around all day.”

  “Okay.” I slip out of Marco’s arms and lift the book off the bed. It is heavy! And I’m going to have to carry it to school four days a week. Great. “I need a school bag too. Any ideas?”

  “There’s that clothes shop by Camp Four that sells cheap bags; we’ll go there too.”

  “Let’s not waste any time, then.” Marco grabs my arm and tugs me towards the door playfully. “All these shops will be sold out by the time we get there!”

  * * *

  Turns out we were one of the first people there to buy a kit, so Marco bought me one of the best ones. It’s a large purple see-through case containing a manual on dragon care, a harness, a small white blanket, a small rechargeable light and a food tray. Doesn’t seem worth forty quid. We also went to the clothes shop, Young Flyers. I bought a large grey and white over-the-shoulder bag for school. It should be big enough to lug all my stuff around.

  “Which one’s your drawer?” Rocky asks, throwing the book upwards so it lands on my bed. We took turns carrying it around, so none of our arms would fall off carrying the unnecessarily heavy book.

  “Oh. Wes and I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Wes is the guy you’re sharing with?” He glances at the brass plate nailed to the bottom bunk.

  “Mm-hm.”

  “He’s not causing you any trouble?”

  “No, he’s nice.”

  “Okay, if you’re happy.”

  Marco rolls his eyes, but says nothing, which is probably for the best. While they’re both quiet, I take a chance to check on the egg. When I pull it out of the bag, I’m disappointed to find no changes. There’s not even a minuscule crack in the tough shell.

  “It’ll hatch soon, Haze,” Marco smiles. “Give it time. You’re so impatient.”

  “I’m worried.” My stomach churns once more, making me feel like I might be sick. “What if it doesn’t hatch?”

  “Then breakfast is sorted for a week.”

  “Not appropriate,” Rocky scowls at my friend, making him flinch. “Look, Hun. Cerberus was the last egg to hatch in our year, and it looks like yours will be the same. Don’t worry yourself sick over it, okay? When that thing hatches as healthy as anything you’ll look like a right nutter.”

  “Okay.”

  “No, promise me you’ll stop worrying. I’ll worry for you.” He holds my hands and stares at me expectantly, his green gaze unwilling to back down.

  After a few seconds, I sigh. He’s more stubborn than me. I won’t win. “Promise. Please don’t ever look at me like that again; you look constipated.”

  Rocky grins, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Okay, deal.”

  “We should head to the Square,” Marco clears his throat uncomfortably. “There were stalls set up. We could get some books, Rocky.”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot that we need new books for Monday.”

  “New books?”

  “Yeah, we need the Year Two textbook and I need to get a new art pad.”

  “You’ve carried on drawing?”

  He shrugs. “Never stopped. It’s the only class I really like.”

  “The art teachers love him,” Marco says. “They display his art wherever they can.”

  Rocky shrugs and shuffles his feet, his face heating up in embarrassment.

  “Okay. I won’t keep you two any longer. Have fun.”

  * * *

  Basically, today was just a lazy day for me after they left. Around nine o’clock, kids started to return from their days out. A few of the richer girls strolled in with their dragons poking their heads out of their designer handbags, like chihuahuas. Wes didn’t mind about the drawer; he was just glad to unpack his suitcase fully.

  But still no movement from my egg.

  Still.

  I mean, seriously.

  The little bugger is one hell of a sleeper.

  “Did you get your starter kit, Hazel?” Wes climbs halfway up the ladder, while Asteroid plods around on my bed aimlessly.

  “Yeah, one of my friends bought it for me as a late birthday present.”

  “That’s nice. Who’s your friend?”

  “Marco White. He’s in Year Two.”

  His eyes grow wide. “Mason White’s brother? You know Mason’s brother?”

  Marco’s twin brother, Mason, is a budding music artist. Obviously, he’s more famous than I first thought.

  “It’s not a big deal,” I shrug. “He doesn’t like fuss.”

  “How do you know each other?”

  “From birth. He and Mason had playdates with my brother, Rocky, before I was born. As soon as I came along, we clicked. We’ve been inseparable ever since.”

  “Cool. He sounds like a nice guy.”

  I giggle. “Sometimes he can be a bit grumpy, though.”

  Asteroid jumps on Wes’ hand, chewing and batting at it playfully. Wes carefully pulls his hand away, before sliding it underneath her belly to make her jump up and growl excitedly.

  “She’s adorable.”

  Wes looks up for a second and grins. “Yeah. Once your dragon hatches, she’ll have a playmate!”

  “I hope.”

  He must have noticed my
change in mood, as he quickly changes the subject. “Are you nervous for tomorrow? You know, new classes and stuff.”

  “Mm-hm.” As if on cue, butterflies rise in my stomach. “I might be over-thinking it, though. I promised Rocky I wouldn’t worry myself sick.”

  Wes frowns. “You don’t need to worry about it. It won’t be half as bad as you think.” He smiles slightly and climbs down, Asteroid flinging herself off my bed to follow him.

  “I guess,” I say to myself.

  To distract myself, I check the egg, and I’m surprised to find a little hole in the side. I peer in. It’s too dark to see anything, but a rush of excitement hits me.

  “Wes! It’s hatching!” I scoop the egg up in my arms as I half-scramble, half-fall off the wooden ladder.

  My eyes are glued to the egg as the grey shell starts to peel. Little squeaks can be heard from within. The small hole in the side is hit repeatedly from the inside, causing half the egg to crumble in my hands. A small black dragon slithers up my arm, stretching each of its legs individually. It has small, thin wings and a long, spiked tail, giving away his gender as male.

  My mouth hangs open in shock. It’s a rare colour. My book said that only five black ones had been spotted since records began, so the odds of getting this little guy were a billion to one.

  “Oh, wow,” I breathe, staring at the little creature in my arms.

  He looks up at me curiously, his turquoise eyes shining.

  “He’s awesome!” Wes cries. “You got a black one! What are the chances of that?”

  Thanks to Wes’ shout, kids gather to stare at my new companion, their eyes widening in shock and whispering among each other in disbelief. I don’t really pay attention; I’m just happy to see my new friend happy and healthy.

  “Can I touch him?” Wes asks.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  The little dragon digs his claws into my arm as Wes strokes him, but soon relaxes his grip as he enjoys the attention.

  “Any names in mind?”

  I’ve been thinking about it all day. I want to name him after my element, just to make it a bit more unique. I had loved doing science experiments, and I think something scientific would suit the little guy.

  “It’s unusual, but I’ve got one in mind.”

  “Go on; I’m sure there are weirder names out there.”

  “Aqueous,” I grin. “After my element.”

  The black dragon snaps his head up at the sound of his name, gazing at me happily. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. It almost looks as if he’s smiling.

  “I think he likes it,” I giggle, scratching his scaly chin.

  Asteroid lands on my shoulder and leans down to sniff Aqueous, jumping back when he sneezes. He soon apologises by tapping her cheek, which leads to the two trapping each other in a playful headlock, each trying to overpower the other.

  “At least they get along,” Wes chuckles, pulling Asteroid away when she frees herself from Aqueous’ loose grip.

  The remains of Aqueous’ shell lay scattered across the wooden floor, making me feel a bit embarrassed for letting him hatch in the open. “I’ll get this cleared up, then go to bed. I’m tired.”

  “Same,” Wes mouth opens in a large yawns in reply.

  Aqueous clings to my shoulder as I lean down and start picking up chunks of the grey shell. “At least we’ll get some sleep tonight. No more dragons to hatch.”

  “And you’ve cheered up,” Wes points out. “Now that Aqueous is here, you can calm down and enjoy yourself.”

  It’s true. The second Aqueous clung to my arm after leaving his shell, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. “Yep. I feel better about school now, too.”

  “Good,” Wes grins again, his brown eyes sparkling. “Mr Reedman will have to be nice to you now; you’ve got a really rare and valuable dragon.”

  “Mm. I’ll have to register him before school tomorrow.”

  “I can go with you, we can walk to school together... If you want.”

  “Sure. We’ll go at ten to nine, so it gives us time to get to school and adjust.”

  “Cool, it’s a plan, then.”

  5

  Chapter Five

  Aqueous and I slept soundly all night, although he struggled to get up at eight. In the end, I left him in bed until we had to leave for the Square. He had woken up fully by then, choosing to stay in my bag and poke his head out on the way. He stared at everything and everyone we passed, his mind boggled by what was going on around him. Asteroid also stayed in Wes’ backpack, but she had to be convinced. For the first month or so dragons are required to stay in school bags until they are too big, then they must stay under your school desk until they outgrow that as well.

  As we approach the Square, Mr Reedman comes into view, holding a clipboard and looking tired of standing around. When his gaze lands on us, Aqueous squeaks in fear and ducks into my school bag.

  “Miss Adams,” he says coldly, his grumpy expression unchanging. “Have you come to register?”

  “Yes.”

  “I need to see it.” He looks down at my bag. “We need to record its appearance.”

  I don’t move; I’m too scared to show him Aqueous.

  What will he do once he sees how rare he is?

  Will he treat me differently?

  What if he takes him away?

  “Sometime this week would be good, Miss Adams.” The short man taps his foot on the ground impatiently.

  Before I can decide what to do, Aqueous pokes his head out of my bag, gazing up at me with worried eyes, as if to say: what’s wrong?

  For a few seconds Mr Reedman looks shocked, his mouth opening in disbelief. However, he quickly composes himself. “I see,” he says. “What is its name?”

  “Aqueous.”

  He slowly fills out a form on the clipboard, looking down at Aqueous every so often. “Thank you, Miss Adams. You may leave.” He waves his hand once in dismissal.

  Wes and I scamper off, thankful to be out of the scary man’s presence.

  “I didn’t expect that!” Wes breathes, casting a look over his shoulder. “He had no idea what to do!”

  “At least he registered him. For a second I thought he’d take him away.”

  “Me too,” Wes admits. “But it’s all over now. We can go to school now.”

  Time to enjoy the first day, or absolutely hate it.

  * * *

  Wes and I approach a group of tall snow-white buildings. English and Maths is taught in one, Art and ICT in another; the school is huge. We are herded into a large hall with shiny wooden floors. Loads of kids in our Year have already gathered there, letting their dragons whiz around the room or holding them tightly in their arms.

  Shiny golden badges are given to us to show that we are First Years, which is going to be embarrassing to walk around wearing. At least it’s only for the first week. We are then separated according to what cabin we’re in, and taken to a building with colourful paintings winding up the walls. This will be our base. Every morning at ten to nine we will meet at our base classroom to be registered, then at nine we will be dismissed to go to lessons. As this is the induction day, no Years in the school will have any lessons today, just briefs about what will be happening through the year.

  Our base tutor is Mr Gilmore, a new teacher at the school. He’s short with a mop of messy brown hair. His dragon is called Thyme, a friendly yellow and orange uncommon dragon with pale pink markings that look like a sun rising on her back, symbolizing the element of light.

  “Good morning.” Mr Gilmore stands behind a small brown desk, which is littered with paper.

  Our base is only small, with a few tables that can fit two people per table. Bunsen burners and other science equipment litter the cupboards and a plastic skeleton leans against the wall at the back. Mr Gilmore seats us in register order so Wes and I sit next to each other.

  “Today, I will be giving out maps and lesson timetables. I’ll explain school rules on uniform and beha
viour. Then you will introduce yourselves and your dragons to your classmates.”

  Public speaking?

  Great, just hit me over the head with a pipe while you’re at it.

  The lesson timetables are given out. I’ll have an hour of Dragon Mythology tomorrow morning as my first lesson, so at least I’ll start off with something interesting.

  “We’re in the same ICT class!” Wes exclaims.

  “That’s because we’re from the same base,” I giggle.

  “Oh. So, you aren’t surprised about being in the same English and Maths classes, then?”

  All the core subjects that are compulsory are base classes; the subjects we picked are a mix of all the bases.

  “Not really, no.” I smile and roll my eyes in fake irritation.

  Aqueous squirms in my lap before settling down and resting his head on my stomach. He starts to snore softly, his tail hanging limply between my legs.

  “All the dragons are asleep,” Wes comments, stroking Asteroid as she sprawls on the wooden table. “I think they’re bored.”

  “You aren’t?”

  Wes shrugs. “I’d be lying if I said no...”

  “Class!” Mr Gilmore only raises his voice slightly, but chatter dies out regardless. “I think this would be a good time to introduce yourselves. Wes Abbot, come up to the front please?”

  Wes’ eyes bulge slightly, and he looks scared to move. With a tough elbow to the side from me he stands up, waking Asteroid, who lazily clambers onto his shoulder.

  “Um, I’m Wes and this is Asteroid,” he says quietly, pulling his fingers timidly.

  “And what type of dragon is Asteroid?” Mr Gilmore presses.

  “Uncommon. I don’t know what my element is yet.”

  Mr Gilmore nods. “Thank you, Wes. Hazel Adams, you’re next.”

  Crap.

  As Wes sits down I stand up, clutching Aqueous close to my chest. “This is Aqueous. My name is Hazel.”

  I’m so awkward it’s unbelievable.

  “Aqueous is a common dragon, and my element is water.”

  “Thank you, Hazel. Yvonne Carter is next.”

 

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