The Return of the Dragon

by Rebecca Rupp

  Mr. King caused no trouble. He followed the children and Mr. Chang as if he were a robot, doing as they did, edging around the rocky shelf that surrounded the crest of Drake’s Hill, climbing down the stone steps, and docilely following them down the grassy slope of the hill to the sandy beach. Beyond them, on the gray water, the white yacht rode at anchor. Mr. King stood facing the water, staring blankly at nothing.

  “What now?” Sarah Emily said. “Mr. Chang can’t take him back acting like this.”

  “Look,” Zachary said. “I think he’s waking up.”

  Mr. King suddenly shook his head as if he were dazed. He rubbed a hand confusedly across his eyes. Then he looked at the children and smiled as if he had never seen them before.

  “How do you do?” Mr. King said. “My name is J.P. King, and this is my compatriot Mr. Chang. We were just passing by”— he waved a hand toward the ocean —“touring in my yacht. This is a beautiful island. Are visitors allowed?”

  The children stared at him dumbly for a moment.

  Hannah swallowed. Then she said, “No, I’m so sorry. This is a private island. It belongs to our great-great-aunt, who does not allow any visitors.”

  “A pity,” Mr. King said. “But I can see why she should want to keep such a lovely place unspoiled. We must be going, Chang.”

  He nodded briskly to the children, then walked across the beach toward the little white motorboat that had been dragged up onto the shore.

  Mr. Chang lingered behind. Quietly he turned to the children and bowed.

  “You are worthy Dragon Friends,” he said. “I will be in touch.”

  “What will you tell the crew?” Sarah Emily asked.

  Mr. Chang gave her a small enigmatic smile.

  “I will tell them,” he said in his gentle whispery voice, “that Mr. King was sadly mistaken about the island. There was nothing here of interest after all.”

  A letter arrived from Aunt Mehitabel, written in raspberry-pink ink, filled with underlinings and praise:

  Dear Children,

  I wish I could have been there to help you, but you seem to have managed beautifully on your own, with, of course, the help of the gallant Chinese gentleman, whose letter arrived shortly after yours. I look forward to meeting him sometime in the near future. We may be, I believe, kindred spirits.

  Many congratulations on a dreadful danger defeated!

  With deepest affection and admiration,

  Aunt Mehitabel

  The vacation was nearly over. Mother and Father were flying from London to Boston and would arrive on the next day. Then they would drive to Chadwick to meet the children and Mr. Jones. It was almost time to leave the island.

  “I don’t think we managed so beautifully,” Zachary said. “Fafnyr almost got captured.”

  “But he wasn’t,” Sarah Emily said.

  Hannah sighed. “I know what you mean,” she said. “I don’t think we did very well on the reasoning parts. You know, weighing all the alternatives and stuff.”

  “Zachary figured out who Mr. King really was,” said Sarah Emily.

  “That was just lucky,” Zachary said.

  “We’ve got time for one last visit to Drake’s Hill,” Hannah said.

  “Fafnyr’s probably asleep,” said Zachary.

  “I don’t care,” Sarah Emily said. “Let’s go anyway. I just want to see him. I want to see that he’s all right.”

  “After all that’s happened,” said Zachary, “I wouldn’t blame him if he decided to leave the cave forever.”

  The day, their last on the island, was gray and gloomy. The beach was shrouded in fog. They climbed the stone steps leading to the top of Drake’s Hill and circled the shelf leading to the broad platform above the ocean. The water below them was gray, cold, and empty. The white yacht was gone. Switching on the flashlight, the three children quietly entered the dragon’s cave. They walked slowly inward and downward, the flashlight swooping to and fro, waiting to see the first flash of gold. Then there it was, suddenly, in the darkness, the dazzle and glitter of dragon scales. But the great dragon did not awaken. There was no movement on the cave floor, no light-blooming flame.

  “Maybe he just doesn’t want to speak to us anymore,” said Hannah.

  “That would be terrible,” said Sarah Emily. Her voice quavered.

  “Let’s leave him a note,” said Zachary. “He’ll find it when he wakes up. We can tell him that we tried to do our best.”

  “That we’re sorry we ever listened to Mr. King,” Hannah said. “That we should have protected him better.”

  “No,” Sarah Emily said suddenly. “Don’t say that. Just tell him that we love him always and we hope we’ll see him again soon.”

  They wrote the note on a page torn out of Zachary’s notebook. Each of the children signed his or her name.

  Sarah Emily anchored the note under a rock next to the dragon’s front claws.

  “He’ll see it first thing,” she said, “right when he opens his eyes.”

  They stood quietly for a moment, watching the golden dragon sleep. Then they turned and softly made their way out of the cave. The flashlight in Zachary’s hand made sweeping yellow blobs of light against the cave walls.

  Sarah Emily trailed reluctantly behind, looking back over her shoulder.

  “Goodbye, Fafnyr,” she whispered.

  Suddenly a narrow beam of light pierced the darkness. A single neon-green eye cracked sleepily open.

  “Au revoir, my dear,” the dragon murmured. “And thank you.”

  Sarah Emily hurried to catch up with Zachary and Hannah. Without speaking, each lost in thought, they descended Drake’s Hill and set off along the little path leading back to Aunt Mehitabel’s house.

  Finally Sarah Emily broke the silence. “Hannah,” she asked, “what does au revoir mean?”

  “It’s French,” Hannah answered. “It means ‘until we meet again.’”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Many thanks to all who have helped in the making of this book, among them Josh and Caleb Rupp, who imaginatively consulted; Ethan Rupp, who patiently and repeatedly fixed the computer; Cynthia Platt, my editor, who — as always — gave invaluable and supportive advice and never once used a red pencil; and all the kind and creative book people at Candlewick. Special thanks also to Elizabeth Bluemle and Josie Leavitt of the Flying Pig, Dragon Friends extraordinaire; and to my husband, Randy, for everything.

  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 © 2005 by Rebecca Rupp

  Cover illustration copyright © 2005 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 2013

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Rupp, Rebecca.

  The return of the dragon / by Rebecca Rupp. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: Hannah, Zachary, and Sarah Emily return to Lonely Island to save their friend Fafnyr, a three-headed dragon, from being captured by a rich man who wants to put the creature on display.

  ISBN 978-0-7636-2377-7 (hardcover)

  [1. Dragons — Fiction. 2. Brothers and sisters — Fiction. 3. Islands — Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.R8886Re 2005

  [Fic] — dc22 2004045184

  ISBN 978-0-7636-6413-8 (electronic)

  Candlewick Press

  99 Dover Street

  Somerville, Massachusetts 02144

  visit us at www.candlewick.com

 

 

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