by Jaden Kent
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that
this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed”
to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received
any payment for this “stripped book.”
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real
people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters,
places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any
resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.
An imprint of Bonnier Publishing USA
251 Park Avenue South, New York, NY 10010
Copyright © 2017 by Bonnier Publishing USA
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part
in any form. LITTLE BEE BOOKS is a trademark of Bonnier Publishing
USA, and associated colophon is a trademark of Bonnier Publishing USA.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request
First Edition 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN 978-1-4998-0410-2 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4998-0372-3 (pb)
littlebeebooks.com
bonnierpublishingusa.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
1:
HAPPY DRAGON DAY!
2:
THE STINKIEST DESSERT OF ALL
3:
AW, NUTS!
4:
BEHOLD! CAMELNOT!
5:
KITTENS!
6:
WORST HOLIDAY EVER!
7:
MERRILY WE TROLL ALONG
8:
WORST PLAN EVER
9:
ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WITH
NO ONE GETTING EATEN
1
HAPPY DRAGON DAY!
“If something in Terror Swamp tries to
eat me, I’m totally blaming you,” Owen
said.
“Me?” his sister Ella replied.
“Yes, you!! Going to Terror Swamp was
your idea, not mine.”
“We can’t disappoint Dad,” Ella said.
“He’s expecting a stinky fish, and we’re
going to catch it for him.” The fishing pole
over her shoulder swung back and forth
as her feet trampled through the forest.
The two dragons had left their home
in Dragon Patch that morning with a
promise to catch a stinky fish for their
father. Unfortunately, as all dragons
know, the best stinky fish swim in the
muddy waters of Terror Swamp.
“Are you sure this is the way to our
doom, I mean, Terror Swamp?” Owen
asked.
“It’s a shortcut I’ve heard of,” Ella said.
“This path through the forest takes us to
the other side of Fright Mountain.”
“What?! You mean the wrong side of
Fright Mountain! W-where the k-knights
live?!” Owen fearfully exclaimed.
“I’ve read the books and the scrolls
about those knights in that castle, and I’ve
listened to the awful stories from Uncle
Scales and Great-Great-Grandmother
Clawfoot. Knights hate dragons as much
as trolls hate baths.” Owen’s wings
nervously fluttered.
“Don’t you wanna see a real castle and
a live knight?!” Ella asked.
“Why would I want
to meet anything
that wants to turn my
beautiful scaly skin
into a pair of dragon
boots?!” Owen asked. “I
don’t want to be boots or
shoes or sandals or—”
“Would it be better if
they wanted to turn you
into a hat?” Ella joked.
“There is nothing you
can say to change my
mind!” Owen huffed.
“There’s no way I’m
going to that castle with
you! No way!”
“Well, then I guess you’ll just have to go back home by yourself,” Ella said. “Back through the Fear Forest . . . the Field of Dread . . . and the Sands of Suffering . . . but you know best.” Her wings fluttered. “Ta-ta, little brother.” She flew off and headed toward the castle. Owen looked
around, filled with fear.
“Okay, there’s no way you’re going to that castle without me!” Owen’s wings fluttered faster and he took off after his sister.
The two dragons flew through the sky and into the clouds. In just a few minutes, the clouds disappeared, and before Ella and Owen was the castle of the knights
who hate dragons.
The castle was made of stone blocks, with a high tower at each corner and a
large wooden door.
Across the door was a big banner.
The two dragons landed behind a thick row of bushes near the castle. Owen pushed the branches apart and peeked
out.
“Look at all the people in the village,” Ella said. “They’re singing. It’s some kind
of festival.”
“Check out the banner over the castle door.” Owen pointed. “This is our kind of
party!”
The banner had only two handwritten
words splattered on it: DRAGON DAY.
“I told you the knights weren’t so bad,”
Ella said. “They celebrate dragons.”
“Uh, Ella, what’s that ugly thing under
the banner?” Owen said.
There was a large bag of straw
hanging from a rope. Four wooden sticks
stuck out from the bag that looked a little
like arms and legs. A pumpkin was tied
to one end of the bag. Two eyes and a
jagged mouth had been carved into it.
“I think that’s supposed to be a dragon,”
Ella replied.
Four knights gathered around the “dragon.” Villagers happily danced and stuffed themselves with meat and cheese and bread. An old bard with a long gray beard sat with his mandolin, but didn’t play it. “Happy Dragon Day!” the crowd
roared. “Happy Dragon Day!”
Owen smiled. “Maybe these humans aren’t so bad after all if they have a
holiday named after dragons!”
“Smash the dragon!” one of the knights
shouted.
The villagers stopped dancing. They picked up tomatoes and apples from the festival tables and threw them at the bag of straw. The bard even used his mandolin to bash the fake dragon a few times.
“Happy Dragon Day,” he sang.
“Wow,” Ella said as they watched from their hiding place. “Worst holiday ever.”
2
THE STINKIEST DESSERT OF ALL
E
lla and Owen backed away from the bushes, making sure not to step on a dry twig, rustle any noisy leaves, or trip over their own claws.
“We have to get out of here now,” Ella whispered.
But Owen had stopped moving. He was sniff-sniff-sniffing the air.
Owen pointed toward the village feast. Leftovers were stacked on a table.
“Ella! Do you see what I see?!” Owen gasped. “A stinky fish strudel is on that table! It’s the best dessert . . . ever!”
Ella shook her head. “I thought you said stin
ky fish cake is the best dessert ever.”
“Pffft.” Owen rolled his eyes. “Spoken like a dragon who’s never had stinky fish
strudel. I have a new plan that doesn’t
involve Terror Swamp.” Owen pointed to the fish strudel on the table. “We can just get Dad that stinky fish strudel instead. We’ll be heroes and nothing will eat me.”
“I think your dragon brain has shriveled!” Ella replied. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“I know!” Owen said. “In fact, it’s such a terrible idea, I’m surprised you didn’t think it up!”
“Fine,” Ella replied. “How do you plan to get your claws into that stinky fish strudel?”
“Easy,” Owen said. “By using stealth-dragon tiptoe skills.”
“We don’t have stealth-dragon tiptoe skills,” Ella pointed out.
“I do,” Owen said. “I learned them from a book, 101 Ways to Be a Stealth Dragon. Come on.”
Owen tiptoed out of the bushes. He avoided stepping on a dry stick. He did not trip over a small rock. He dodged any prickly sticker cacti.
Ella followed close behind him.
Owen grabbed the stinky fish strudel with his claws, but just as he was about to leave, Ella tapped him on the shoulder.
“Trouble!” she whispered urgently.
The four dragon-smashing knights stomped toward the table.
“HIDE!” Ella and Owen whispered, looking at each other.
The twins scampered under the table. The long tablecloth hid them from the knights.
Owen listened as the knights ate the stinky fish strudel. He wanted to eat it and he wanted to eat it now!
“Can you smell it? It’s—it’s beautifully stinky!” Owen said. “So stinky beautiful. Stinky. Stinky . . . must have stinky fish strudel!” Owen’s eyes were wide with hunger. But the knights were still eating! But the strudel! Could he grab it from the table without getting caught?
One of Owen’s shaky hands crawled out from under the table. His claws slid over the table and grabbed a chunk of the stinky fish strudel.
“Yuck! What’s with you and food that smells like moldy ogre socks?” Ella asked.
“All the best food smells like moldy ogre socks!” Owen replied. He held the fish strudel up to his open mouth.
Owen gobbled down the stinky fish in one bite and smiled happily.
Then Owen hiccuped.
Then he
BURPED
loud enough to
rattle the table.
Ella slapped a hand over Owen’s snout. “SHHHHH!” she whispered.
The four knights lifted the tablecloth and stared at the two dragons under their table.
“Behold!” said the first knight. “What’s this under our table?”
“Uh . . . Happy Dragon Day?” Ella cracked a weak smile.
3
AW, NUTS!
“R
UN AWAY!” Owen shouted.
The table flipped over as Ella and Owen jumped out from underneath it. Food flew into the air. Cups spilled. Plates rattled. The knights jumped back, startled. Ella and Owen ran as fast as their clawed feet could carry them.
Ella huffed and puffed. “You know, we could fly away!”
“I-I can’t!” Owen replied. “My wings are too scared to flutter!!”
The four knights took off after the dragons. “Get those things!” one shouted.
“Don’t let ’em get away!” yelled another.
“Through here,” Owen said, pointing at a pair of closed wooden doors of the castle. He crashed into them and bounced off. He tumbled to the ground and stopped in front of Ella.
“Castle doors are pretty strong,” Ella said. She pulled the doors open. “And these are pull, not push.”
Ella and Owen ran inside the castle. Owen shut the doors behind them.
CRASH! BANG! CLATTER-BA-BOOM!
The knights crashed into the closed doors from outside.
“Curse those running-away-from-us things!” said one knight.
“They have door magic!” said another.
Inside the castle, Ella and Owen scrambled across the courtyard. They ran passed a court jester who shook his rattle at them.
“Riddle me this: Why did the knight cross the road?” the jester asked.
“To get to the other side,” Owen said as he and Ella rushed past him.
“To get to the—hey, how did you know that?” the jester exclaimed.
Ella and Owen ran into the nearest castle tower and up the stairs. “Castle towers always have places to hide,” Owen said. “At least they do in books.”
KLANG! KLANG!
KLANG-KLANG!
The
footsteps of the knights KLANGed on the stairs.
“They’re coming!” Ella said. “Quick—in here!” She opened a door in the tower hallway and ran inside. Owen followed and closed the door behind them.
“Wow.” Ella glanced around the room. “Owen, look where we are.”
He turned and saw a room filled with swords, axes, spears, mallets, maces, poking sticks, lances, and a number of other pointy weapons that sent a chill up Owen’s scales.
“Look over there!” Ella pointed to a row of knights’ shiny armor. There were helmets, chest plates, and metal pieces for arms and legs.
“You’re thinking of a really bad idea, aren’t you?” Owen asked, even though he already knew the answer.
“A great idea, you mean,” Ella said, smiling.
“Whatever it is, I’m against it,” Owen replied.
“We can disguise ourselves as knights and sneak out of here!” Ella said.
“That idea’s worse than my idea to get the stinky fish strudel, and that was the worst idea I ever had!” Owen said. He burped again. “Even if it was yummy!”
“These are perfect disguises. They’ll never know it’s us,” Ella said.
“Never know?!” Owen cried out. “We’re dragons! We have tails! And do you know what knights hate the most?! Tails! Because they’re connected to dragons!”
“Do you have a better idea?” Ella asked.
“We could . . . or we could . . . but . . . then this could . . . or . . . ?”
“Any ideas at all, Owen,” Ella said. She handed Owen a shiny metal helmet. “I dub thee Sir Worry-a-Lot.”
“Ha-ha,” Owen replied. He tried to squeeze his head into the helmet, but it was too small. He pulled and tugged and yanked until it POPPED into place. His snout stuck out from the visor.
Ella took a deep breath and wiggled into a piece of armor that wrapped around her body.
In just a few minutes, they were wearing full suits of armor and looked like large dragons stuffed into small cans.
“You’re nuts!” Owen said as they looked at themselves in a mirror.
“Not ‘nuts,’ knights!” Ella said. “We’re knights now!”
“You’re nuts if you think the knights are nuts enough to think we’re knights and not nuts!” Owen said.
“What?” Ella asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t really understand it either,” Owen confessed. “But you’re still nuts and we’re not knights!”
“Now here’s the plan,” Ella explained. “I’ll open the door and we’ll just walk out of the castle like we own the place and head to Terror Swamp. No one will know it’s us.”
Ella gently pushed opened the door. The four knights were standing in the hallway, looking right at them.
“What’ve we got here?” one of the knights asked.
4
BEHOLD! CAMELNOT!
“W
hat are you doing in the armory?”
said one of the knights.
“He is, I mean we is, I mean we are,” Owen stammered.
Ella interrupted. “Hello, friends. This is the brave-knight-who-is-not-a-dragon, Sir Bonehead!”
“And this is Sir Stinky Feet!” Owen said and pointed to Ella. “We’re from Not-Dragon-Land.”
“It’s, uh, very nice to, uh, me
et humans like us who are not dragons!” Ella said. “We’re just, uh, visiting your castle like knights-who-are-not-really-dragons do.”
The four knights glared at Ella and Owen for a moment. Owen’s dragon fangs began to chatter. Ella held her fire breath.
“I am Sir Dragon Crusher!” the first knight finally said.
“I am Sir Dragon Stomper!” the second knight proclaimed.
“I am Sir Dragon Thumper!” the third knight revealed.
“Let me guess,” Ella said while pointing to the fourth knight, “you’re Sir Dragon Masher-Basher-
Crasher?”
“Uh, no. My name’s Barry,” the fourth knight replied. “Welcome to Camelnot!”
“Camelnot?” Owen asked.
“Yeah! Originally, we were called Camelot, but all the tourists were getting angry because there are no camels here,” Dragon Crusher explained.
“So we changed the name to Nocamelot, but no one liked that. So then we tried Camelnotalot, and then Camel-less, Camelnada, Camelnone, Camelzero, No-camels-here-a-lot, Betty, Camelpalooza, and CamelCamel. And in the end, everyone voted for Camelnot.”
“Well, that sure explains everything,” Owen said.
“You’ll love it here in Camelnot!” Dragon Crusher exclaimed. “We have all kinds of great festivals!”
“Like the Summer Festival of Brotherly Love,” Dragon Stomper began. “Everyone in the castle gets together and bashes the straw out of a fake dragon!”
