Amaranta

by Martha Faë

  “—Enough!” interrupted the bigger dragon with a thundering roar.

  “I recommend the story if you haven’t read it, sir. It’s very nice, in spite of the title.”

  Mr Drac, of Drac and Drac, began to snort, blowing smoke out through his nostrils.

  “Ah!” yelped the terrified little soldier dragon. “Negative, sir. That was not the story I told my superiors. I told them the truth.”

  “And what is the truth, Private, if you wouldn’t mind telling us?”

  “It’s better that you don’t know, sir. It’s embarrassing.”

  The larger dragon rolled his eyes.

  “We will move to the next accusation. Is it true that you have been the cause of embarrassment on more than one occasion in the middle of attacks made by our glorious division, when you have produced little more than ridiculous sparks instead of the superbly powerful and destructive discharge of fire approved by the committee? Indeed, if my information is correct, as the other soldiers breathed out jets of glorious fire and covered entire fields in scorching blue flame, you confined yourself to merely spitting out baby sparks.”

  The soldier hung his head.

  “You are an embarrassment to Dragonia.”

  “And to myself, sir.”

  Mr Drac, of Drac and Drac, turned suddenly to face the other way, and his heavy, scaly tail raised a cloud of dust around the little soldier.

  “But now let us pass to the most serious accusation of all: thinking for himself and without the permission of the Marvellous Supreme Council of Dragons.” There was a collective gulp. Every dragon present, including Gondra, swallowed nervously, preparing for the worst. “Is it true, or is it not true, that you dared to question our ancient traditions?”

  “Negative.”

  “Is it true that you said to Colonel Smallscale that - and I quote -” the dragon put on a pair of spectacles and read from the scroll, “that you ‘did not see any reason to go around destroying poor peoples’ houses with fire’?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Is it true that you said the mere fact that dragons have traditionally always been destructive does not seem reason enough to terrorise the inhabitants of The Forest and burn their crops?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Did you say that, much as you might be a dragon, you still do not feel the need to burn to a crisp every living being that crosses your path?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Is it true that you said that unless they attack you first, you have no intention of attacking anyone?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Oooooooh!” exclaimed all the other dragons, surprised.

  “It horrifies me to read these words, Private Gondra. I find it intolerably embarrassing to our species. Did you also say to Colonel Smallscale that the other creatures of The Forest seem nice and have every right to live and be happy?”

  This produced such a silence that you could even hear the fly that was buzzing around Mr Drac, of Drac and Drac’s ears.

  “I take your silence as a yes, Private,” said the large dragon, shooing away the fly. “No further questions needed and there is no need for us to retire to deliberate. Soldier, what you deserve is the maximum penalty, which, as we all know, is...”

  “—Aitchoo!”

  Every dragon sprang to its feet immediately and looked towards the tree... The tree I had been hiding behind. The fly had buzzed right up my nose and made me sneeze. Now a hundred pairs of bright yellow eyes were staring right at me.

  “Erm... See you later,” I said with a forced smile.

  There was no time to weigh my options, I knew without any doubt that it was time for me to be off like a shot. I raised another cloud of dust as I sped off, which made the dragons blink furiously, tear up, and have to rub their eyes with their scaly forepaws. Soon it grew into a spectacularly big cloud of dust with a hundred dragons inside, crying uncontrollably and passing each other tissues. Meanwhile I kept on running as fast as my legs could take me and wasn’t tempted in the slightest to stop and check to see if they were following me or not.

  10

  **

  The Forest Has A Little Heart, Too

  So the wall I jumped over was there to divide the two parts of the forest! Never had I been so happy to be able to make things appear just by thinking about them. As soon as the stones of the long wall came in sight I imagined a door, dashed straight through it, and then made it disappear. I still didn’t stop to see if they followed me or not; all I could think was that I had to keep running.

  Eventually I reached a river and had to stop because I was out of breath. I looked back, but there was no sign of the dragons. Exhausted, I put my hands on my knees to try to recover, and then knelt down to drink some water. Only then did I realise that I didn’t know how to get home. The first time I came to The Forest I returned home all of a sudden and without meaning to. Now I was tired, frightened by what had occurred, and on top of it all I was beginning to get hungry. For the first time I really felt it hadn’t been such a good idea to wish I had two lives. Life in Madrid wasn’t so bad. I had friends, Gran, my parents, my auntie Marita, and school was a bit boring sometimes but it wasn’t bad. There were some things I liked at school, actually – like when we sang in the choir at Christmas or when we went on trips. Yes, sometimes it rained non-stop in that world and you couldn’t go down to play in the square, but now I realised how much I liked the hot chocolate my Gran makes me on rainy days. Being nice and warm at home and reading or watching the TV is good, too. No, I shouldn’t have wished for another life. Besides, what was all that silly stuff about Princess Tamaran? Nonsense! What was the point in having another name if I had no one else to tell it to apart from the squirrel I spoke to the first time I came here? It’s important to have more people to play the game.

  As if all my sad thoughts weren’t enough, the sky suddenly turned grey. The clouds all rolled together and began crashing against each other; it looked as if they might reach right down to the ground, and it began to rain harder than it did in Madrid.

  “Aw, nuts! It rains here, too! Stop raining! Sun, I want sun!”

  I concentrated very hard and thought of sun, but it wouldn’t work – it didn’t stop raining.

  “Tamaran! Hey, princess... Quick, in here,” I looked around me but didn’t see anybody. “Quick, silly, you’ll be soaked through.”

  Finally I saw a little paw poking out from inside a cave.

  “Are you planning on staying there till you’ve soaked up all the water like a sponge?” said the voice.

  I ran over and crouched down so I could get inside. Something, or someone, hugged me around my neck.

  “How delightful! So long since I saw you last! How are you? Do you have any news that might interest me, or are you still a princess?”

  “Squirelle!” My eyes took a little while to get used to the lack of light inside the cave, but soon I could clearly see Squirrel Tattletail and I was extremely happy to be with someone I knew again. “No, I’m not a princess anymore.”

  “Double the delight, in that case,” said Squirelle. Her voice sounded as if it had little tinkling bells attached. “But, wait, let me look at you. Why aren’t you happy?”

  “I don’t have many reasons to be happy,” I replied. “I want to go home but I don’t know how to get out of this magic world. By the way, why won’t it stop raining? I’ve been thinking about sunshine. Don’t we have freedom of decoration?”

  “That’s right, but all the big things like atmospheric phenomena are in the hands of the wise ones of The Forest. Come on, cheer up. Here we are together and I have a ton of news to tell you. Oooh...” said the squirrel, looking me up and down. “You don’t just look sad, you’re also... Let’s see, how can I say this without it sounding bad? Nope. I’m sorry, there’s no delicate way to say it. How did you end up looking like that? It’s not very glamorous at all. Where on earth have you been with your hair all over the place and covered in dirt? You lo
ok like you’ve been chased by a herd of wild boar.”

  “Almost,” I replied. “I’ve been chased by a troop of infuriated dragons.”

  “But how did that happen if there are no dragons on this side of the wall?” Squirrelle’s eyes sparkled like starlit pools in the darkness.

  “I got lost. Without meaning to I ended up in a place where they were holding a dragon court.”

  “What a story!” Squirelle clapped with excitement.

  “I hid behind a tree to see what was going on.”

  “Good, well done you. Tell me then, who was on trial?”

  “It was a little dragon, very awkward-looking. They were accusing him of being near the castle or something like that.”

  “Don’t tell me: the restricted area.”

  “It seems that when they found him there he told his superiors some fairytale about a princess.”

  “Oh, no, no. Fairytale schmairytale,” said Squirrelle waving a paw in front of my face. “That’s no fairytale at all. It’s as true and real as the top of that pine tree—“ and just at that moment the sky lit up with bright white light followed by a loud noise. Lightning struck the tree Squirelle was pointing at. For a few seconds neither of us said anything. “OK, now there’s no pine tree, but even so. The princess story is no fairytale at all but the honest truth. You see...” the squirrel leaned in close and lowered her voice, “they say a dragon has been seen on more than one occasion hanging around near the castle. That’ll be the one from the trial, I’m sure. They say he’s fallen in love with Princess Enedina, can you believe it? A dragon in love with a princess!”

  “It doesn’t seem very logical,” I said.

  “Well, of course not. And not only that, but this princess of ours is quite difficult. No one has seen her ever. Of course, the squirrel you’re currently talking to is a professional, so even though no one has ever seen the princess I have a lot of information.” We sat down together on a stone and Squirelle continued, “They say the princess is fussier than you can imagine. Apparently she only eats chips and apples because she doesn’t like anything else. Princes have come to see her from every kingdom, and there are many, many kingdoms in the world.”

  “Do they come to ask her to marry them?” I asked.

  “Exactly that! They come with mountains of gifts. Beautiful things. But hear this - the princess never accepts anything. And the princes have to go back where they came from with their flowers and their presents and everything – everything except sweets. If they bring a box of sweets then they have to leave that at the castle. The princess feeds the crocodiles in her moat with them.”

  “And what does all this have to do with the dragon?”

  “Everyone says he’s absolutely stuck on the princess. I haven’t seen him personally, but I know some very trustworthy squirrels who have. They say he spends hours sitting in the tree in front of the crooked tower.”

  Just then an idea occurred to me.

  “Squirrelle, do you know which tree that is?”

  “Of course. If you like I’ll take you to see it, seeing as it’s stopped raining.”

  We set off walking and crossed rivers, streams, and brooks; we passed through patches flowers, and went up and down mountains. I had forgotten The Forest was so big.

  “Do you like the detour we’re taking?” asked Squirelle.

  “I’d prefer a more direct route.”

  “You should have said so earlier! Well, we’ve detoured as much as we can detour now. There it is – the castle – just in front of you; and at the side there is the tree they’ve seen the dragon in.”

  “Can we climb it?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  In the blink of an eye, Squirelle was on the highest branch. I took quite a bit longer to climb up, however. Just as I did on my last visit, I edged myself further and further along the branch. I stretched my neck as far as I could to see inside the tower. There was the little bed with its cushions on top, and the exact same headboard as mine with the word Princeeeeeeee......

  “Well!” exclaimed Squirelle. “Now, that’s what I call rude. Disappearing without saying goodbye! Oh well, I suppose there must be some news waiting for me somewhere. Off I go then.”

  Squirelle scrambled down the tree in a series of little jumps, while I flew up through the tube at full speed.

  11

  **

  Amaranta Solves The Complicated Case Of The Persistent Dragon

  I landed with a bounce on my bed. How had I not thought of it before?! The door to return to this world was in the headboard belonging to the Princess! Suddenly it all became very clear. My headboard and the princess’s were twin doors. That was what linked the two worlds. I got up and started pacing back and forth like detectives do when they’re thinking about their cases. How had the magical connecting door appeared? Why had it appeared? And, most importantly, how could I close it?

  I remembered that my nocturnal terrors started just after Dad had made me the headboard. What I didn’t understand yet was what connection there was with the dragon, or why it kept slipping through the magic door. Dragon... Princess... Yes! If it was true that Private Gondra was in love with Princess Enedina and went each day to the castle to see her, then surely he slipped through the door accidentally just like me. I smiled, relieved; the dragon hadn’t attacked me because he wanted to! Then I frowned. There was one big problem with this idea. What did Private Gondra – a real dragon – have to do with the tea towel dragon I caught the other night? The one in The Forest had real scales... Why hadn’t the real dragon ever got into my room? Drat! I was right back to the beginning again. I turned it over and over in my head. Different possibilities occurred to me, but none of them provided a perfect answer.

  I looked out of the window; it was already night. They would call me to eat at any moment. The only thing I could do, at least for one night, was try to prevent the intruder from getting in. I found the grey sticky tape that Dad uses to fix things around the house. I cut two big pieces and then stuck them down hard in the middle of the headboard. That tape will hold anything!

  From that moment on, my nights were peaceful, serene, and actually quite funny. In the middle of the night I would hear a noise like an elastic band – a boing of something being shot at the headboard and bouncing straight off again in the direction it had come from. It would only wake me for a few seconds, just enough for me to giggle as I imagined the intruder, head-first on its way back to The Forest.

  Its persistence was fascinating – almost every night I heard the boing as it bounced off the door again. Why did it always go back and do it again? Why, knowing what would happen from his own experience, was he still prepared to get whacked in the face with a headboard night after night?

  Thanks to the tape, my nights became so peaceful that I even began to dream - although I have to say that the bliss didn’t last too long. Misfortune struck again, and all because of what adults call ‘oversleeping’. Now every morning before going to school, I made my own bed; but one day...

  “Amaranta, it’s time to get up, sweetie. It’s half past seven,” said Mum, leaning around the door.

  “Amarantaaaaa, eight o’clock,” said Dad from the hallway.

  “Amaranta, you won’t have time for breakfast,” said Gran.

  “Amaranta! A quarter to nine!” shouted Mum.

  The next thing I remember was Dad getting me out of bed in a rush. There was no time for words; there was hardly time to dress me and take me (still half asleep) to school. I don’t even know how I got there. Only the school bell managed to make my big pool-like eyes blink away the last grain of sleep, and open at last.

  But what does this have to do with my misfortune, you may well ask? A lot! Everything, in fact. Oversleeping that morning has everything to do with what happened next.

  When Mum got home from taking me to school, she went into my room to make my bed. It was then that she saw the sticky grey tape on my headboard and peeled it all off.

&nbs
p; “After all the effort her Dad put into making this crown!”

  In short, with the magic door open once more, it doesn’t take much imagination to work out what happened later that very night.

  “Aaaaaaaah! Nooooooo!”

  After the initial fright, I realised what was happening and stopped screaming. The dragon had landed right on my face, and then got down from the bed in one jump. I saw its shadow outlined on the floor by the window. With the light still off, I raised the edge of my blanket bit by bit. Carefully, very carefully. An inch, then another inch. Then I managed a marvellous (apologies that I say so myself, but it really was marvellous) three-in-one operation. I turned on the light, leapt at the dragon, and wrapped it in my blanket so that it couldn’t move.

  The dragon twisted, kicked, tried to attack with bites and punches, and even threw out a few sparks which scorched the blanket a little bit. But in the end, after all the fighting, it went quiet... almost. Every time I opened the blanket a little bit to look at my prisoner there came a little growl.

  “Ruauuuughrrr!”

  “Shush!” I told it.

  “Ruauuuughrrr!”

  “I said stop!”

  “Ruauuuuuuuuuughrrr!”

  “I’m warning you, we can do this all night, I don’t care. I’m used to not sleeping. Not that we know whose fault it is that I can’t sleep,” I said, staring at it with my big pool-shaped eyes open wide. “What do you think? Whose fault do you think that could be?”