by Rebecca Rupp
Sarah Emily drew a shaky breath. “I’m scared,” she said.
“Let’s go see Fafnyr,” Hannah said. “Right now, before anything else happens.”
The three children ducked quickly into the cave. Again, all was suddenly quiet and dark, the crashing roar of the waves gone utterly still. Zachary switched on his flashlight and the children edged their way inward and down, breathing in the tangy odor of smoke and cinnamon — the now-comforting smell of dragon. A streak of gold flashed in the gloom. Zachary’s flashlight had picked up the glitter of dragon scales.
There was a soft hiss as the dragon flamed, and the cave glowed with light. This time the second head was awake. Cool blue eyes surveyed the children. The dragon’s voice was deep and husky. “Hannah, Zachary, Sarah Emily,” the dragon began. “I am inexpressibly delighted to see you once again.”
Then its voice changed and it bent its neck to study the children more closely.
“Something has happened,” said the dragon in a concerned voice.
The children sank down on the cave floor, leaning back against the dragon’s warm golden tail.
“We met some people on the beach,” Sarah Emily said.
“They’re poking all over the island,” Hannah said. “Looking for caves. We were trying to find out what they were doing, but one of them caught us. He grabbed Zachary and yanked him around.”
“The mannerless cad,” the dragon said.
“They all work for Mr. King,” said Zachary. “And he’s written to Aunt Mehitabel, asking for permission to stay on the island.”
“He’s dangerous,” Sarah Emily said. She looked from the dragon to her brother and sister. “I just know he’s trying to find out about Fafnyr.”
“But how can he possibly know anything about Fafnyr?” Hannah said. “Besides, Aunt Mehitabel will tell him to go away.”
“What if he doesn’t pay any attention to her?” asked Zachary. “She’s in Philadelphia, with a broken ankle. She can’t really do anything. What if he sticks around anyway? How are we going to stop him?”
“We could fight them,” said Sarah Emily doubtfully.
“That’s easy to say,” said Zachary. “We’re just kids. And anyway I hate fighting. There are a couple of kids at school who always want to fight, just to see who’s bigger or better. If I don’t fight, they laugh and call names and say I’m a chicken. I’m not a chicken. I just think fighting is stupid.”
The dragon nodded sympathetically.
“Battle,” it said, “is a highly overrated activity.” The blue eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look. “That reminds me of a story,” the dragon said. “A tale of chivalry and honor. Perhaps you would like to hear it?”
“Knights and castles,” said Sarah Emily excitedly. “I love those stories. I’ve been reading all about King Arthur and Sir Lancelot and Guinevere. And the sword in the stone.”
“Fighting,” said Zachary glumly.
The dragon reached out a polished golden claw and smoothed his hair.
“There’s fighting and there’s fighting,” it said. “Just listen.”
The dragon began to speak. As the children listened to its voice, the walls of the cave again seemed to fade. They heard a sudden triumphant flourish of trumpets, the sound of clashing metal, and a thunder of galloping horses’ hooves. Then there came the soft strum of a lute, a chatter of voices and laughter, and a wonderful aroma of baked apples and roasting meat. The children once again were in another place and another time.
The Blue-Eyed Dragon’s Story
GAWAIN AND ELEANOR
“Gawain,” the dragon said, “was eleven years old and a page. He had come to Hampton Castle when he was just seven, sent by his father and mother to learn courtly manners and the arts of battle, under the tutelage of the owners of the castle, Lord Charles and Lady Margaret. He spent his days practicing the use of weapons, perfecting his horseback-riding skills, and learning to polish and repair armor. In the evenings, he waited upon the lord and lady and their household as they ate their dinner. Gawain was in training to become a knight. But sometimes knighthood seemed very far away. . . .”
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 1998 by Rebecca Rupp
Cover illustration copyright © 1998 by Wendell Minor
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
First electronic edition 2012
The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:
Rupp, Rebecca.
The dragon of lonely island / Rebecca Rupp. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Three children spend the summer with their mother on a secluded island where they discover a three-headed dragon living in a cave and learn what it means to be a Dragon Friend.
ISBN 978-0-7636-0408-0 (hardcover)
[1. Dragon — Fiction. 2. Brothers and sisters — Fiction. 3. Islands — Fiction.]
I. Title.
PZ7.R8886Dr 1998
[Fic] — dc21 97-47759
ISBN 978-0-7636-1661-8 (paperback)
ISBN 978-0-7636-2805-5 (second trade paperback format)
ISBN 978-0-7636-6000-0 (electronic)
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