by M E. Holley
‘Come on! No, not towards the gate.’ He dragged her away from the crowd.
‘Jonah!’ Erin gasped. ‘It’s the wrong direction! We want to go the other way!’
‘No. The lane’ll be too full. We shan’t be able to run.’ He jerked his head towards the gate where men and women, coughing in the dragon’s smoke, were jostling frantically to get through. Some clambered over the wall beside the gate into the lane, others shouted for help with elderly relatives. Two huge wolves began to creep towards the edge of the crowd. Men started yelling and panicking, throwing clods of earth at them. A couple of clergymen, looking over their shoulders, swiftly helped to lift the smallest children over the wall to the lane.
‘See?’ Jonah panted. They raced towards the far corner of the churchyard wall, above the lane.
‘Let’s get over the wall here and then across the lane into the fields. We can go quicker that way.’
There was a sudden burst of gunfire. The children both jumped and turned to see that all the wolves had got into the churchyard. They crouched at bay, red tongues lolling. The noise of Harry’s shotgun had stopped them in their tracks but, of course, the gun could not injure them. It was only a matter of seconds, Jonah knew, before the creatures realised that the gun held no threat. Erin turned towards the wall again but Jonah gripped her hand.
‘Don’t move,’ he whispered urgently. ‘If we run, they’ll notice us. They’ll go for us then.’
The Reverend Vaughan suddenly dashed out of the church and strode calmly in front of old Harry, holding a copy of the Abracadabra spell towards the wolves. The farmer stood shakily clutching his gun, as the wolves, snarling, backed away. The big pack leader ran up and down, trying to cross the invisible barrier the vicar was making. Unable to find a way to leap at their prey, the wolves whined with frustration and Harry grinned.
Something made Jonah look up, and he gasped. The Archangel was standing on the church roof, searching the sky. ‘Look at Saint Michael. He looks much more like Mike now.’
‘He’s getting stronger,’ Erin murmured.
‘Everyone’s been praying. Perhaps it’s helping him,’ Jonah whispered back.
Above the church, the sky seemed to waver and glow. Then the radiance crackled, as if the air were splintering into fragments of golden glass. The light was so bright that the children had to cover their eyes and look down. Above them, something flashed, and then there was a piercing shriek. A Night Creature dropped to the ground, and for a moment lay motionless across a grave. It looked as if it was carved from stone. Then the body cracked into tiny fragments and a wisp of shadow blew away from it, swirling in the air towards the woods. The children, squinting through their fingers, saw two angels standing astride the roof, hacking at the squealing fiends as they scuttled to get away. Their great wings stirred as they skimmed over the tiles and their swords gleamed as another loathsome creature was dispatched. Beyond the church, Saint Michael was driving a couple of wolves out of the churchyard. They growled and snapped at him, leaping aside to avoid the sharp edge of his sword.
‘Why doesn’t he kill them?’ Erin asked in a low voice.
‘I dunno. But look how fast they move!’
The rest of the wolf pack, disheartened, had given up trying to break through the barrier of the charm and slunk away over the churchyard wall. Jonah, watching them go, caught sight of the shadowy, cloaked figure standing in the shade of a tree. He scrambled to his feet but when he looked again, there was nothing beneath the branches after all. He screwed his eyes up, blinking, but he couldn’t see anyone in the meadow. As the wolves loped towards the forest, he caught a glimpse of what looked like smaller creatures moving with them. Some demons had got away, then, and it looked as if they and the wolves were making for the fissure. Perhaps the angels would drive them all away from Cascob and back into the Underworld. He turned to look for the Archangel again and froze, gripping Erin’s arm.
The largest wolf, the alpha male which had attacked him the day before, was standing a few feet away, its yellow eyes fixed on Jonah. Saliva dripped from its jaws. It took a slow step forward, and then another, drawing its lips back from its fangs in a rumbling snarl. Jonah could not move; he felt as if his body had turned to ice. He could hear Erin breathing shakily behind him.
The wolf brought one foot slowly forward, hunched its shoulders and then erupted into a streak of snarling fur. It slammed into Jonah, knocking him and Erin backwards. Everything seemed to go into slow motion. He felt the weight of its feet pressing down on his chest and legs. Its stinking breath made him gag. He tensed for the terrible ripping bite, but it did not come. Instead, there was a high-pitched scream, a smell of burning hair and a flash of golden light. He felt the rush of wings, and then he was being lifted up and swept gently across the churchyard. An angel lowered him to the grass. He began to tremble as he watched Erin getting to her feet. Another angel was hovering above her, protectively. Near the lych gate, two more angels pursued the wolf, which scrabbled over the wall and disappeared.
‘You are safe now,’ said the one who had rescued him. ‘Stay here while we chase off the others.’
Two angels floated over the church, searching in case any fiend were still hiding behind the guttering. Another searched the churchyard and two more bent over Megan and Gethin, who were both sitting up. They had nasty wounds and blood all over their clothes but they were conscious again, and talking. A couple of other angels, in the hill-meadows beyond the church wall, examined the hedgerows and looked along the lane. Once the wolves had been driven off, people stopped trying to rush out of the churchyard and were spellbound by the sight of the heavenly beings. The villagers began to feel that the angels would somehow keep them safe from the Red Dragon, if it returned.
Jonah sighed with relief and shakily began to stand up. He looked towards the hills, wondering where the dragon was. He soon found out.
CHAPTER 16
TALKING TO A DRAGON
The sky darkened again, and the oppressive gloom seemed to stop the villagers in their tracks. The angelic light above the church faded. Abruptly, total silence fell. No one seemed able to move. Too scared to speak, everyone stared upwards as the enormous bulk of the dragon loomed again in the sky.
Gazing down at Michael, who swept down to stand astride the roof ridge, the dragon rumbled. Jonah got a distinct impression that it was talking to the Archangel. Though the crackling noise of its breath made the words indistinct, Jonah thought he heard it say, ‘The sword gets heavier with the passing years, does it not, Michael?’
Jonah gripped Erin’s arm in excitement. ‘Listen to that!’
Erin looked confused. ‘What?’
But Jonah had turned back to concentrate on what the dragon was saying. It swished its tail savagely, as it moved above the church.
‘For a thousand years and more, you have locked me beneath the earth. Is it not enough? Can I not taste some freedom before you come back to my forest to fight me again? My forest, Michael. My land, not yours. My beautiful Wales.’
Michael rose into the air until he was level with the dragon’s head. His hair blew about his face in the wind of its breath and he looked angry, as he began to speak. Jonah could just make out something that sounded like: ‘Ferny, Ferny, what have you done? You sent fire through the caverns and opened the eyes of the dwellers in the Underworld. Now the Night Creatures are loose, bringing Evil here.’
The dragon let out a spurt of flame. ‘I awoke. That is all. Do not blame me if the demons seize an opportunity. We dragons do not deal with their kind.’
The Archangel looked grim. ‘I do not come to kill you. But you must leave.’
‘What?’ The dragon’s roar made all the villagers cringe.
Saint Michael soared into the air and swept towards the creature. ‘More than a thousand years have passed, as you said. The world you knew has gone. The people here have never seen a dragon before. But they know of you, the Last Great Dragon of Wales. They place your image on their
buildings; they think of you with pride.’
The dragon cocked its head on one side and looked at the angel thoughtfully.
‘They are proud of their Red Dragon, Ferny. Do not hurt them. Leave them in peace. Then you and I need not fight again.’
‘We-ell...’ The dragon’s mood seemed to have softened. It moved lazily above the valley, lowering its head to peer down at the throng of people in the churchyard and the lane beyond. ‘But I am hungry,’ it said in a voice that sounded like roaring flames to the frightened people below. ‘Very hungry.’
Michael gripped the sword. ‘No, Ferny. Do no evil here!’
The dragon squeezed its eyes shut. Jonah thought it was amused. ‘Well, I’m too hungry to want to fight you. No Welshmen then. But there are some delicious-looking cattle down there.’
Cattle! Oh, no! Without thinking, Jonah bolted forwards. Panicking, he yelled up at the dragon.
‘No! No! Don’t kill the cattle. Please don’t! They’re my uncle’s.’ He had his head flung back, staring up at the dragon. ‘They’re prize Herefords!’ Oh, you idiot! As if the dragon would care about that. Then he had a brain-wave. ‘We can get you meat!’ he called. ‘We can get you all you want from the butcher’s shop.’
Michael and the dragon hovered above the church, gazing down at him with surprise. Jonah felt surprised, himself.
Appalled, even. He hadn’t thought about what he was going to say; the words had just spilled out. He wondered what would happen if nobody wanted to pay for meat for the dragon. What would happen if it ate everything in the butcher’s shop? Oh, Hell’s teeth, what had he done? He turned slowly round to look for Bryn and found everyone’s eyes on him. He noticed one of the villagers nudge another one and nod his head, smirking a bit. Jonah realised people thought he was crazy to shout at the dragon.
But then, it circled and lost height, dropping down to the meadow. Immediately, everyone stopped looking at Jonah and stood mesmerised by fear of the huge creature in the field. The dragon was swishing its tail over the damp grass and peering across the lane. Then its small amber eyes fastened on Jonah. He gulped and looked round frantically for help but everyone was standing stock still, hardly daring to breathe. Jonah looked apprehensively at the dragon. It was still looking hard at him but, somehow, it didn’t look as if it was about to attack. Its gaze was interested, you could almost say friendly. It raised its horned head to look up at Saint Michael on the church roof.
‘Who is the young Heart Eater? Did he speak the truth? Will they bring me meat? I’m ravenous. I could eat the entire herd over there.’ It jerked its head towards the farms down the lane.
‘Be patient for a little while. I have something to explain to the boy first.’
The dragon groaned but dropped down meekly enough on to the grass, settling itself to rest. The crowd in the churchyard gazed at it, open-mouthed, and Jonah began to look for Bryn. Surely he would know how to get some meat for it. Emlyn and Gwen came hurrying over, and Erin, with Gethin and some more friends, rushed towards him.
‘Are you all right, son?’ Emlyn asked, gripping his shoulder.
Gwen looked anxious. ‘I don’t like the way that great thing keeps staring at you! What’s going on, Jonah?’
‘I don’t really know,’ he began, as Bryn and Claire joined them.
‘Whatever did you shout like that for? It was awfully dangerous, love,’ said Claire. ‘It might have gone for you.’
Bryn shook his head at her. ‘It’s OK. No harm done.’
‘Saint Michael’s over the moon about something,’ Emlyn put in, nodding towards the Archangel, who was chatting animatedly with the dragon.
‘It’s because Jonah yelled at the dragon,’ Gethin said.
‘Hardly likely,’ another boy said. ‘If you ask me, it was daft to copy the noise it makes, like he did.’ He turned to Jonah. ‘No offence or anything, but if it had got mad, that old thing could have just gobbled you up. Nice snack for it you’d be.’
Erin rounded on him. ‘He wasn’t copying it. Were you, Jonah?’
‘No, course not. It wanted to eat Bryn’s cattle and I just said I’d try and get it some meat.’
Bryn’s eyes were wide. ‘You what?’
Everyone gaped at Jonah.
Saint Michael had crossed the lane and began to laugh. ‘You should just see your faces!’ His smile made them feel as if they were standing in warm sunshine. ‘You heard Jonah talking to the dragon, didn’t you?’
The children looked at each other. ‘We heard him yelling at it,’ Gethin said uncertainly, not wanting to seem rude.
‘Oh, it was rather more than just shouting.’ Michael said. ‘And did you notice how the dragon calmed down afterwards? Well, it’s because of Jonah.’
As everybody swung round in surprise to look at him, he scuffled his feet on the grass and flushed with embarrassment.
Michael went on, ‘I’ve discovered something wonderful about Jonah. I’m just going to tell everybody what I’ve found out.’
‘What’s he done?’
‘It’s not what he’s done but what he’s going to do,’ said Saint Michael. ‘Everything is going to be fine because Jonah can control the dragon!’ With a slight movement of his wings, he rose above the wall and dropped lightly into the churchyard. The Archangel’s face was radiant. He looked even younger now, much more like his Mike Golding self. He stretched out his hand, shimmering with light, towards Jonah.
‘I wondered whether I dared hope for this,’ he said, smiling. ‘Jonah, this is marvellous!’
Jonah turned apologetically to the Archangel. ‘I know I shouldn’t have said anything. It just sort of came out. I hope I haven’t mucked everything up – um – Sir,’ he finished lamely.
Michael laughed and the sound made Jonah feel warm. ‘Hey, you can still call me Mike! No, it was not what you said, though it is a good idea. No, I am overjoyed because you said anything at all. Really! Look at the dragon. He doesn’t look angry, does he?’
Jonah looked. It was true. The dragon did seem quite peaceful, stretched out over the meadow, with sunlight burnishing his scaly hide. ‘Erm – I hope it’s OK,’ he said. ‘About feeding it, I mean. You could get some meat, Bryn, couldn’t you?’ He bit his lip, staring anxiously at his uncle.
Bryn looked across at the dragon. ‘Phew! Bit of a tall order, son. It’ll eat a helluva lot, won’t it?’ He turned to Saint Michael. ‘Please, what did you mean, about Jonah being able to control it? We don’t understand.’
‘Ask yourselves,’ said the Archangel, ‘why Jonah suddenly shouted at the dragon.’ He looked round at the puzzled faces. ‘He shouted because he knew what the dragon wanted. He understood what the dragon was saying.’ He laughed. ‘Come to that, none of you could understand the sounds Jonah was making either. Don’t you see, everyone? Jonah is the only person, apart from we angels, who knew what the dragon said. Jonah, and possibly only Jonah among human beings, can talk to him.’ The Archangel put out a hand. ‘In a moment, I’ll go and explain to everyone else, but I think you and your family and friends should know first, Jonah. So gather round. I have something amazing to tell you.’
CHAPTER 17
DRAGONS AND MASTERS
As he looked up at Michael, Jonah could hear lots of whispering. He couldn’t look for long though, because the radiance that flowed from the angel’s robes was so bright that it almost made his eyes water. He thought how strange everything had suddenly become. He imagined calling his parents when they could use the phones again. ‘Hi, Mum and Dad. I’ve just been talking to an angel and there is a dragon in the field by the church.’
‘Mike,’ Jonah began, hesitantly. It was no good; he simply could not call this awesome being by such an ordinary name. ‘Er – Michael, can I ask you something?’ ‘Of course.’ ‘How come the last Welsh dragon speaks English?’ The Archangel chuckled. ‘He doesn’t.’ Jonah looked up in puzzlement. ‘But I spoke English to him!’ ‘No, you didn’t!’ Gethin cried. Michael smiled. ‘Jonah tho
ught he did.’ Jonah frowned. ‘But – how can a dragon understand what I’m
saying, anyway? I don’t get it.’
‘I know. I’m sure none of you do, so let me try to explain. When I first met you, Jonah,’ the Archangel said, ‘I hardly dared to hope that your name meant what I wanted it to mean.’
‘Jonah?’
‘No, your surname. Drake. Do you know what it signifies?’
Jonah shook his head thoughtfully. ‘I expect my ancestors bred ducks or hunted for them, or something like that.’ He
looked at Michael. ‘I hate being called Drake,’ he added wryly. ‘Jonah Quack-quack? Ducky Drake?’ suggested Gethin. ‘You’ve got it! When I won the Year Eight football prize, they all quacked when my name was called out.’
‘His dad’s school nickname was Aylesbury,’ Claire put in.
Michael grinned. ‘You will be the one who is laughing now, Jonah. In your family’s case, the name has nothing to do with ducks. You have just proved that!’
Jonah was looking totally mystified. ‘How?’
‘Do you know any Latin?’
‘Only a few words. I could start Latin next term, if I wanted to, but I think I’ll probably go for Spanish.’
‘Well, you might like to know this bit of Latin. The name Drake is an old English surname and comes originally from the Latin word Draco. That means “dragon”.’
‘Really? I never knew that!’ Jonah tried to suppress a grin of pleasure.
‘Well I never!’ said Gwen.
Michael went on, ‘From ancient times the name Dragon, in any language, was borne by men who had a special bond with the dragon races. If a warrior fought with a dragon and killed it, there would be a feast in his honour and he would be given the dragon’s heart to eat.’
‘Yuk!’
Michael grinned at the children’s disgusted faces. ‘Ah, but there was a reason for this strange practice. Er – how can I explain? When the men who had killed the dragons digested the hearts and blood, they showed dragon-like qualities. They had dragon spirit, as it were, so there was a special bond between the Heart Eaters and dragons. A human being had to be very brave and very skilled indeed to overpower a dragon, and the beasts knew it. They respected those men.
