by Rebecca Rupp
“And then there are all these weird dictionaries,” Zachary said, wiggling forward on his elbows. “There’s one in Sanskrit and one in Cherokee.”
He opened a glass panel and pulled out a book.
“This one is German. But the letters are all funny, like those big old-fashioned Bibles.”
“Check,” Hannah said.
“Donnerschlag,” Zachary read in a threatening voice. “That means thunderclap. Lebkuchen. That’s gingerbread. Schweigepflicht. That’s what we have. It’s a pledge of secrecy.”
“Schweigepflicht,” Sarah Emily said, and giggled.
“Check,” Hannah said again.
Sarah Emily stared dismally at the board. “I don’t think I’m any good at chess,” she said.
“Sure you are,” Hannah said. “It’s a hard game, that’s all. You have to keep thinking ahead all the time. Consider the alternatives like Faf . . . F says. You have to move your king, see?”
“King,” Zachary said, busily flipping dictionary pages.
Then suddenly he made a startled exclamation and sat straight up. He looked shocked. His face had gone so pale that the freckles stood out.
Hannah leaped up from the chessboard.
“What’s wrong?” she said. “Zachary, are you sick?”
“It’s König,” Zachary said in a shaken voice, pointing to the dictionary page.
“König?” Sarah Emily looked confused.
“König,” Zachary repeated. “It means king in German.” Now he was talking so fast that his words tumbled over each other. “Don’t you remember Aunt Mehitabel’s letter? The boy was named Johann Pieter König. But he would be all grown up now. Getting old, even.”
He looked from Hannah to Sarah Emily and back again.
“King. König. Don’t you see? I think Johann Pieter has come back. I think he’s J.P. King.”
“J.P. King is Johann Pieter?” Sarah Emily said.
“It makes sense,” Hannah said slowly. “He saw the track on the beach, remember? He must have known it was real, no matter what anybody else said. He must have been thinking about it all these years. And now he’s come back.”
“He never gives up,” Zachary said. “Everybody says so.”
“We have to warn Fafnyr,” Sarah Emily said in a trembling voice.
“Nothing’s going to happen tonight,” Hannah said reassuringly. “They don’t know where the cave is yet, S.E.”
“We’ll go first thing in the morning and warn him,” Zachary said. “Maybe Fafnyr will have to go away for a while.”
“Find another Resting Place?” Sarah Emily said. Her eyes filled with tears.
“Nobody wants that, S.E.,” Hannah said miserably. “But what if it’s the only way to keep him safe?”
Tears rolled down Sarah Emily’s cheeks.
The next morning looked just like the children felt. It was cold, dismal, and gray. The sky was dark and threatening, heavy with clouds, and the wind had a sharp edge to it. Walking into it felt like being slapped with wet sheets. They plodded single-file along the familiar path, sweatshirt hoods pulled up to protect their ears. Instead of sneakers, they wore hiking boots, and over their sweatshirts they wore zippered vests. Everybody felt too miserable to talk. Sarah Emily had barely been able to choke down her breakfast, and even Zachary had been unable to finish his fourth piece of buttered toast.
“Trouble ahead,” Hannah suddenly said.
Two figures, standing side by side, waited silently for them at the foot of Drake’s Hill. The first was J.P. King. He was dressed in a leather aviator’s jacket and a canvas hat with a cord that fastened under his chin. A leather bag with a strap hung from one shoulder. Beside him stood Mr. Chang, now in loose black trousers and a black quilted jacket. He was still wearing his elaborately embroidered cap.
“Greetings,” called Mr. King, with an affable smile. Then, as the children drew closer: “I understand that you have already met my compatriot, Mr. Chang.”
Mr. Chang gave them the slightest of bows.
“He is an esteemed scholar at the Archaeological Institute of Beijing,” Mr. King continued, “and an expert in the history and lore of magical creatures. He is famed in academic circles for his monographs on imperial dragons in the art and literature of the Tang dynasty.”
Sarah Emily gave a little gasp.
“I see you understand the connection,” Mr. King said pleasantly.
“We know who you are,” Zachary said. “You’re Johann Pieter König. You’ve been here before.”
Mr. King nodded delightedly.
“Clever,” he said. “Very clever, young man. Though I suspect your aunt may have given you a clue or two. A quick-witted lady, your aunt, though a bit too trusting. You can’t be too cautious when you have a secret, you know.”
“She thought you and your mother were her friends,” Hannah said coldly.
“She told us what happened,” Zachary said at the same time.
“Ah,” Mr. King said, nodding several times quickly. “Then you understand why I am here. I know, you see, that this island conceals a dragon.”
“Why would you think that?” Hannah said, making her eyes wide and innocent.
Mr. King was not taken in.
“Because I saw it,” he snapped. “Flying at sunrise. A great golden beast with a blaze of sun behind it and a golden glitter on the water . . .”
“It sounds to me like a mirage,” Zachary said.
There was a tense pause.
“You three are very young,” Mr. King said in his earlier, more pleasant tone. “You have no conception of the implications. My research and that of Mr. Chang here”— he made a gesture toward the silent black-clad figure at his side —“indicate that there are indeed still such creatures left alive, miraculous beings from the ancient dawn of time, hidden in secluded spots about the globe, rarely showing themselves to humans. This is a fabulous discovery, with incalculable possibilities for wealth, fame . . .”
He bent down, resting his hands on his knees, and spoke directly to Sarah Emily. “Have you never had a beloved pet, my dear? A cat, perhaps, or a dog? And wasn’t it better cared for in your home than it would have been left to fend for itself in the wild? What could be wrong with taking this poor dumb animal out of its present uncomfortable habitat to a place of near-infinite luxury?”
“Fafnyr’s not poor and dumb!” Zachary shouted. “He can talk! And he’s good and wise!”
“Well, well,” Mr. King said, straightening up. “Since you know that this — did you call him Fafnyr? — can speak, then you most certainly must know where this Fafnyr lives.”
He made a quick gesture toward Mr. Chang. Together the two men lunged forward. J.P. King seized Zachary and Mr. Chang seized the two girls.
“There’s really no need for all this fuss,” Mr. King said testily, gripping Zachary’s arms. “Many animals speak, which deceives us into thinking they possess more intelligence than they actually do. Parrots, for example. Myna birds.”
“It’s not the same!” Hannah shouted.
“No, no,” said Mr. King, as Zachary started to squirm and struggle. “I really wouldn’t do that, young man. No harm will come to you or your lovely sisters provided you all do just exactly as I say. Once you have led me to this beast’s lair, you children will be free to go. For the moment, however, I fear you must consider yourselves to be my . . . guests.”
Zachary threw his sisters a despairing look.
“This won’t do you any good,” Hannah said angrily. “You’ll never get near him. He’s very large and fierce. And he can breathe fire.”
“He could turn you into a human torch,” Zachary said spitefully.
“Oh, there’s no need to worry about me,” said Mr. King, no longer sounding pleasant at all. He patted the leather bag at his side. “I have not come unprepared. I have in here a specially made dart gun, loaded with a penetrating capsule that contains a powerful sedative — enough to render an entire herd of African elephants safe
ly unconscious. I am sure it will have a similar effect on your friend.”
“You can’t shoot Fafnyr with some horrible drug!” Sarah Emily cried.
Mr. King looked annoyed. “Oh, come, come,” he said testily. “I don’t plan to hurt the creature. The sedative will simply immobilize it until I can arrange proper transport.”
He nodded to Mr. Chang.
“The boy and I will lead the way,” he said briskly.
Then he turned to Zachary.
“Move along, young man,” he said sharply. “I haven’t got all day. Up this way, is it? Well, climb, young man, climb!”
They climbed.
Zachary and Mr. King were in the lead. Mr. Chang and the girls followed. But soon the two groups grew apart, as Zachary, prodded by Mr. King, moved on at an increasingly faster pace. Mr. Chang, on the other hand, was a reluctant walker. Once he paused to look for a stone in his shoe; then again he stopped to catch his breath. Gradually he, Hannah, and Sarah Emily fell farther and farther behind. Zachary and Mr. King had reached the massive heap of step-like gray rocks that formed the top of Drake’s Hill and had begun to scramble up.
“We’d better hurry,” Hannah said unhappily. “They’re getting way ahead of us.”
“That is best for the moment,” Mr. Chang said.
“Best for what?” Sarah Emily said, with a miserable catch in her voice.
“We need to talk for a bit, you and I,” Mr. Chang said softly.
He opened his hand and extended it toward the children, palm upward. There, in the very middle of his thin ivory-colored hand, gleamed a glittering fleck of gold.
“No, I do not know your Fafnyr,” Mr. Chang said. “I knew the dragon Angwyn.”
His eyes grew soft as if he were looking at something much loved and far away.
“Long ago when I was a boy in China, I saved her egg when an earthquake threw it from its Resting Place. I have been most honored.”
“But I don’t understand,” Sarah Emily said. “You’re a Dragon Friend. Why are you working with Mr. King?”
“He had heard of my studies, and he traveled to meet me in Beijing,” Mr. Chang said. “He hinted of a marvelous discovery. A dragon — a Great One — living hidden on an island in America. We arrived here and our search began. The members of the crew were kept in the dark. They were never told what they were looking for. Rare geological deposits were suggested, and there was some mention of passenger pigeons. I alone knew the nature of Mr. King’s quest, but only recently did I discover what his true intentions were. But by then I could do nothing but watch and prepare to interfere when the proper time came.”
“I think the proper time has come,” Hannah said, sounding stronger.
“If only we’re not too late,” Sarah Emily said urgently.
“Trust the dragon,” Mr. Chang said.
By now they had reached the great rock steps. Zachary and Mr. King were high above them, nearing the shelf that edged around the hillside to the broad platform overlooking the sea.
“Hurry,” Sarah Emily said fiercely. “They’re almost there.”
They scrambled frantically from rock to rock, the girls in front, Mr. Chang gamely following behind.
“Someone’s yelling,” Hannah said suddenly.
“It’s Zachary!” said Sarah Emily.
They dashed around the last turn of the ledge and stumbled out onto the broad stone platform. Mr. King and Zachary stood at the entrance to the cave. Both looked red-faced and furious.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mr. King was saying angrily. “And keep your voice down! You might alarm the creature! Don’t you understand? That animal is priceless! Priceless! You young fools have no idea what you have here!”
Mr. Chang had a hand pressed to his chest and was panting for breath.
“Keep them quiet while we enter the cave, Chang,” Mr. King snapped.
Then, abruptly, he seemed to change his mind.
“No, come along, all of you,” he ordered. “You children can lead the way. If the beast is as fond of you as you appear to be of it, you should make quite effective human shields. Breathing fire in an enclosed space is quite lethal, you know. I feel certain that your reptilian friend will be too wise to risk your lives.”
He pushed Zachary toward the entrance of the cave and gestured impatiently at Hannah and Sarah Emily to follow.
“Follow me, Chang,” Mr. King said.
Reluctantly, huddled close together, the three children entered the dragon’s cave. Usually as they stepped into the cinnamon-scented darkness, they were filled with a Christmas-morning sense of delighted anticipation. Today they felt nothing but despair. There was the scratchy sound of a zipper as Zachary opened his backpack and groped for his flashlight. He pulled it out and switched it on. At the same time, behind them, Mr. King flicked on a larger and more powerful beam. They moved slowly downward, descending into the depths of the cave.
“He’s a Dragon Friend,” Hannah muttered hastily to Zachary. “Mr. Chang is. He’s on our side.”
“But what will we do?” Sarah Emily whispered desperately.
“Maybe Fafnyr will think of something,” Hannah whispered back. “Mr. Chang said to trust the dragon.”
“Fafnyr can’t think of something if he’s taken by surprise,” Zachary whispered. “We have to warn him.”
“But how?” Hannah whispered. “He’ll be asleep.”
“Quiet!” Mr. King ordered sharply from behind them.
“Let’s run ahead,” Sarah Emily whispered. “And yell as loud as we can. It’s the best we can do. At least it will give Fafnyr a chance.”
“Quiet!” Mr. King hissed.
“All right,” Zachary whispered. “Let’s do it. On the count of three.”
“We’re almost there,” Hannah whispered. “Ready? One. Two. Three!”
The children sprang forward, darting away from Mr. King, feet thumping on the uneven stone floor, shouting at the top of their lungs.
“Fafnyr! Danger!”
“Fafnyr! Wake up!”
“Fafnyr! Look out!!”
Behind them they could hear Mr. Chang running and roaring a warning too.
There was a sound of rapid movement in the darkness, a thunderous clatter, a sharp hiss, and a brilliant flash of gold. The cave burst into light. The dragon stood toweringly erect in the center of the cave, its golden wings outspread. All three heads were awake. The three pairs of eyes, brilliant green, blue, and silver, glared at J.P. King.
Mr. King took a step backward, fumbling in his leather shoulder bag. He gave the dragon a measuring look, his glance sweeping from the three towering heads to the flared golden wings to the tip of the gleaming arrow-pointed tail.
“Impressive,” Mr. King said. “And much larger than I had imagined.” A gloating note crept into his voice. “Very impressive indeed.”
“I fear that my impression of you is not the same,” the green-eyed head said coldly.
Mr. King took another step back, and pulled an ugly-looking dart gun out of his bag.
“This will be quite quick and painless,” he said.
Sarah Emily, horrified, clung to the dragon’s side. “Can’t you fly away?” she whispered desperately.
The three golden heads lifted slowly in unison. Three pairs of eyes, green, blue, and silver, stared fixedly into the eyes of Mr. King.
“The space is not sufficient for flying,” the blue-eyed head said.
“And we are not, primarily, a land animal,” said the silver. “On foot, we waddle.”
“We have other methods,” the green-eyed head said.
“Don’t look,” Hannah suddenly whispered. “Don’t look. Remember how Fafnyr can make people forget?”
The children had learned last summer about this mysterious power of dragons, the ability to wipe away memory. The dragon’s eyes glowed like fiery jewels, emerald-green, sapphire-blue, and a diamond-bright sparkle of silver. Mr. King stood like a stone, his arms dangling at his sides. The dart gun s
lipped from his limp fingers and clattered to the floor.
“He has forgotten us and this cave,” the blue-eyed head said tiredly.
“Remove that . . . peculiar weapon,” the silver-eyed head said.
Mr. Chang hurried forward, picked up the dart gun, and stuffed it into one of the deep pockets of his jacket.
“I will dispose of it safely later,” he said.
Mr. King stood motionless, his eyes vague and unfocused, his mouth slightly open.
“He’s like a zombie,” Zachary said. “Will he be OK?”
The three heads nodded. Then they moved close together. Thoughts seemed to pass rapidly from one to the other. The golden wings drew in and folded. The dragon’s body settled to the floor. Then two of the heads slowly curled downward, positioning themselves on the dragon’s shoulders. Green and blue eyes closed. The heads were asleep. The silver-eyed head remained awake, gazing sadly at Mr. King.
“He is quite well,” the silver-eyed head said. “He will recover shortly. You must take him away. Lead him back to the beach.”
“Fafnyr, this is Mr. Chang,” Hannah said hastily, remembering her manners.
“I am honored, Dragon Friend,” the dragon said.
Mr. Chang bowed low.
“As am I,” he said.
“You were all awake at the same time,” Sarah Emily said suddenly. “All three of you. I didn’t know you could do that.”
The golden head nodded regretfully. “In times of great danger,” it said. It heaved a weary sigh. “So dispiriting,” it said. “I feel quite drained.”
The head sank slowly to the floor, and the silver eyes began to close.
“You will have to excuse me,” the dragon said. “So exhausting . . .”
The silver eyes narrowed to glowing slits.
“But all’s well that ends well,” the dragon murmured. “Or so they say.”
The eyes closed. The cave grew dark.
“Where’s my flashlight?” Zachary said. There was a sound of scrabbling and then the click of a switch. The light moved from face to face, flickered over the sleeping golden bulk of the dragon, and then steadied on the silent Mr. King.
“Let’s get him out of here,” Hannah said. “Before he wakes up.”
