The Dragon's Eye

by Dugald A. Steer

“It must be another dragon!” I said.

  “Let’s go,” said Darcy.

  “Shouldn’t we find out what it is?” I asked.

  “No,” said Darcy. “We must get home as quickly as possible.”

  And he would say no more but led us back towards Castle Drake as fast as he could. I looked back. A plume of grey smoke was rising up through the trees.

  When we arrived, we were greeted with the sight of a carriage coming up the driveway.

  “That will be Billy and Alicia,” said Darcy. “Say hello to them for me, won’t you?” And he rushed into the house.

  The carriage that pulled up to the front door of Castle Drake looked very smart and the boy and girl who got down from it were well dressed, the boy in an Eton jacket and the girl in a long dress that did not look at all suitable for tramping about in an overgrown forest.

  “Daniel Cook, I presume?” said the boy. “Delighted. And your sister, of course.” At which he shook us both by the hand and continued, “Billy’s the name. This is my sister.”

  The girl shook us both by the hand as well and said shyly, “I’m Alicia.”

  “And I’m Beatrice,” said Beatrice.

  “And jolly good dragonologists you’ll make, I expect,” said Billy. “Is Dr. Drake about?”

  But when we went into the house, there was no sign of Dr. Drake or Darcy or even Mademoiselle Gamay.

  “Well, I am sure they are going to be back soon,” said Billy. “Are you members of the S.A.S.D. yet?”

  I didn’t know what the S.A.S.D. was, so I shook my head.

  “I don’t think so,” said Beatrice.

  “Never mind,” he said. “I expect you will be joining soon enough.”

  “Joining what?” asked Beatrice.

  “The S.A.S.D., of course,” said Billy.

  “It means the Secret and Ancient Society of Dragonologists,” said Alicia.

  “I’ve never heard of it,” said Beatrice.

  “That’s because it’s secret,” said Billy, “obviously.”

  “Does it have many members?” I asked.

  “Oh, no,” said Billy. “There’s my father and Dr. Drake and Emery and Mademoiselle Gamay. And your parents, of course.”

  “Our parents?” said Beatrice.

  “Of course,” said Billy. “Isn’t that why you’re here? Dr. Drake doesn’t teach just anyone about dragons. It’s restricted.”

  “Who restricts it?” I asked.

  “My father mainly,” he said. “He’s the Minister for Dragons.”

  “The Minister for Dragons?”

  “Yes,” said Billy. “My father is Lewis Light, Lord Chiddingfold. They call him a Minister without Portfolio, but everyone in the S.A.S.D. knows he’s the Minister for Dragons.

  “So the government knows about dragons?” said Beatrice incredulously.

  “Only a few people. There’s the Prime Minister, of course.”

  “William Gladstone?”

  “Yes. And then there’s the Queen. They say that she finds the idea of dragons quite amusing. But most people don’t know anything about dragons at all, and that’s the way my father says it has to stay. It’s for the dragons’ own good as much as for the people, you see.”

  “I think we must have seen someone from the government when were at Dr. Drake’s shop in London,” said Beatrice. “He had a very red face.”

  “Oh, that would have been Mr. Tibbs,” said Billy. “He is Father’s Secretary. There’s been quite a rumpus about a dragon that Dr. Drake is supposed to have brought to London. My father nearly had second thoughts about letting me come here this year, but then I’m his man on the inside, you see.” He winked. “I’m quite anxious to see Scorcher, though.”

  “Yes,” I said. “But Dr. Drake didn’t bring him to London. He was dumped on his doorstep.”

  “I’m sure he was,” said Billy, “But it’s a bit strange, isn’t it? Just dumping a dragon on someone’s doorstep?”

  “And what about our parents?” said Beatrice.

  “Well, normally they would have told you about the S.A.S.D. on your fourteenth birthday,” said Billy. “Haven’t they said anything at all?”

  “They are in India,” said Beatrice. “Our father works there.”

  There was a pause. A look of surprise passed over Billy’s face.

  “You really don’t know, do you?” he said.

  We both looked blank.

  “Then I’m sorry if it comes as a shock, but your parents are in India acting as dragonological investigators. At this moment they are investigating a strange illness that seems to have taken hold among the nagas of the Thar Desert in India. It seems to have taken a turn for the worse, which is why they haven’t been able to return this summer as they had expected. But look on the bright side. It does mean that you get to come to Dr. Drake’s summer school and learn about dragons.”

  “I knew Dr. Drake had something to do with their going away,” said Beatrice.

  “Well, don’t blame me,” said Billy. “In any case, where is he? I expect he’s off in the forest somewhere. Shall we go and see if we can find him?”

  “I think I shall just stay here,” said Beatrice.

  Alicia, who hadn’t said anything during our whole conversation, said that she would stay as well. This cheered Beatrice up.

  “Have you learned about dragons, too?” she said.

  “This is my first year,” said Alicia. “Last year, it was just Billy and Darcy. So I only know what Billy has told me. But he doesn’t have a terribly high opinion of girls, so he said I probably wouldn’t remember anything. He says he can’t really understand the point in us studying dragons at all as we’re only going to go and get married and have babies.”

  Billy smiled and shrugged. I looked over at Beatrice. I could see that she was not happy.

  “Father wants me to be here,” said Alicia.

  “Only because Dr. Drake made him promise,” said Billy.

  There was a pause. Beatrice put her hands on her hips and turned to Alicia with a smile.

  “I think you and I ought to have a talk,” she said.

  Soon Billy and I were heading off into the forest.

  “I saw some strange dragon tracks,” I said. “I think we might find Dr. Drake there.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” said Billy. “I saw you and Darcy rushing through the woods as we pulled onto the drive. Darcy looked worried. Assuming that the stupid knucker is behaving herself, then unless I’m mistaken, Jamal has got out again.”

  “Jamal?”

  “You don’t know anything, do you?” said Billy. “Jamal is a young wyvern. Dr. Drake is looking after him. He hatched him from the egg himself. You see, my father heard about a shady dealer from Shadwell Dock who was actually selling stolen dragon eggs in London. When he found out about it, most of the eggs had been sold to people who did all the wrong things, so they never hatched. But the shady dealer had one left, which Dr. Drake hatched, after solemnly promising my father to take it back to Africa as soon as it was old enough. Wyverns hunt elephants and things, you see. It wouldn’t do to have a fully grown one in Sussex, no matter how friendly it was.”

  “What happened to the shady dealer?”

  “Oh, they threw him in jail. But it was a bit difficult to get a conviction, having to keep his crime secret and everything, so we managed to convince him to emigrate to Australia, where he’s living, near Sydney, under the watchful eye of a friendly Australian dragonologist named Dragon Man Dan. Dan gets him to do errands from time to time, checking up on the marsupial dragons and things, but they have never really taken to him. He’s been knocked out at least twice. Marsupials like to box, you see. Oh well, serves him right.”

  By now my head was in a spin with all this new information, but I didn’t have time to ask any more questions, because Dr. Drake, Darcy, and Mademoiselle Gamay were coming through the forest towards us.

  Dr. Drake smiled. “Good morning, Billy,” he said.

  “How
is Jamal?” asked Billy.

  “Oh, he is fine,” said Dr. Drake. “Just fine.”

  And he gave me a big wink.

  At nine o’clock the next morning I found myself in a state of great excitement, sitting at a desk in one of the outbuildings near Castle Drake. Inside were three rows of wooden desks with inkwells. Billy chose a seat at the front of the class with Darcy, while Beatrice, Alicia, and I took seats in the second row. We each had our dragonological record books with us. I noticed that Billy’s and Darcy’s both looked particularly thick and that Darcy’s had even spilled over into a second volume. The classroom was a bit stuffy, as though it had not been opened for a while, and there was a small table to one side with a collection of scientific equipment on it. There was a microscope, some test tubes, a few dried herbs, and some glass jars, one of which seemed to contain a black-and-yellow lizard that appeared to have six feet preserved in some kind of greenish liquid. Around the walls were various pictures. One showed a dragon’s skeletal structure, while another seemed to be a sort of spotter’s guide, showing silhouettes of different kinds of dragon. But what interested me most was a large map of the world that had small pictures of dragons tacked onto it in various places.

  Dr. Drake came in and stood near the blackboard at the front of the classroom. He was followed by Mademoiselle Gamay and by Emery, who had returned to Castle Drake that morning.

  “Good morning, children,” said Dr. Drake with a smile.

  “Good morning, Dr. Drake,” we chorused.

  “Now, then,” he continued, “I would like to begin our summer school in dragonology by making a few comments on the role of a dragonologist. As you all know, dragons are particularly rare animals, unloved by science and championed, in the main, by the deluded and the decidedly eccentric. However, while it would not be wise for the whole world to know that we are living in close proximity to a large number of ferocious, terrifying, fire-breathing creatures, there are a few — who go by the name of dragonologists — whose task is to find them, to befriend them where possible, and to study them.

  “Given that dragons are so scarce, this study — or rather science — has one chief aim, which is to promote the conservation and protection of dragons wherever possible. That is why you, Billy, and you, Darcy, have both sworn the binding Oath of a Dragonologist. Alicia, Beatrice, and Daniel, you must now swear the same oath in order to be admitted as junior and as yet unfledged members of the Secret and Ancient Society of Dragonologists. I would ask you to step forward.”

  Alicia rose from her seat, and Beatrice and I followed her. It all seemed very strange. I had never been asked to swear any oaths at school before now, except for the usual sort about doing my duty to my country and that kind of thing.

  “Alicia,” said Dr. Drake, “I see that Billy has completed his homework for the year by giving you some basic instruction about dragons. Beatrice and Daniel, you have learned a little bit about dragons as well. I think that Weasel has made a very good start for you. I must now ask you if you are ready to learn more about them. In order to do so you must each swear the Oath of a Dragonologist in the presence of two witnesses.” Here he nodded towards Mademoiselle Gamay and Emery.

  “What do you think?” whispered Beatrice to me.

  “Well, I don’t think it can do any harm,” I replied. “Our parents must have sworn this oath, too.”

  We nodded to Dr. Drake, who asked Alicia to repeat the oath after him: “I, Alicia Light, do solemnly swear to conserve and protect those dragons that still remain, and in no way to harm them or reveal their secret hiding places to those who do not believe in them or would wish them anything other than good fortune.”

  When Alicia had made the oath, Dr. Drake asked Beatrice and me to repeat it after him as well.

  “Now,” he said, “welcome to the Secret and Ancient Society of Dragonologists. Emery and Mademoiselle Gamay will leave us now, but they are both excellent dragonologists, and they will be teaching some of the lessons that you will learn here. As you may or may not know, there are various levels of dragonological achievement, beginning with Dragonological Apprentice and continuing through Dragonological Alumnus — which is the level Billy and Darcy have attained — to Dragonologist Second Class, Dragonologist First Class, and finally Dragon Master, which is, as we speak, a theoretical honour, for there has been no Dragon Master of the Secret and Ancient Society of Dragonologists for a number of years.”

  “Aren’t you a Dragon Master, then?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” said Dr. Drake, smiling. “In the first place, it is the dragons themselves who decide who is to become Dragon Master. In the second, before the last Dragon Master died, he decided, along with the then Minister for Dragons, Lord Chiddingfold’s father, that the Secret and Ancient Society should not recommend anyone for that role. I’m rather afraid that dragons were becoming a little too well-known, and the last Dragon Master did not quite see eye to eye with me on the subject of what I call dragon science. You see, I feel that the best way to help conserve and protect dragons is for people to learn about them. The last Dragon Master felt the same way until he began to teach rather a lot of people about dragons and found things going horribly wrong. He decided that it was safer if people didn’t know about dragons at all. He and the government decided that the existence of dragons must be kept secret at all costs and that, if dragons died out, then that must be their destiny.”

  “That was Ebenezer Crook, wasn’t it, sir?” asked Billy.

  “Yes,” said Dr. Drake.

  “And my grandfather agreed with him?”

  “Indeed he did. He went further, for he believed that if too many humans became aware of dragons, then a conflict would inevitably occur in which the government would find itself duty-bound to destroy all dragons as a dangerous menace to human beings. But we are getting ahead of ourselves. The modern history of the Society is not on our curriculum this year. You have a great deal to learn about dragons themselves. You may congratulate yourselves on being members of a very select group.”

  “So Ignatius Crook is the son of the last Dragon Master?” I blurted out.

  “Yes,” said Dr. Drake. “Ignatius is the son of Ebenezer Crook. But he is no longer a friend of the S.A.S.D. If you should ever meet him, then I should be wary of anything he says to you. In fact, I should try to avoid him if at all possible. And if you see him again, you must tell me at once.”

  “But why can’t they just make you Dragon Master?” asked Beatrice.

  “Dear me,” said Dr. Drake, “if I have to answer all these questions, then we are not going to learn very much today. Suffice it to say that, even if the Minister for Dragons and I decided that the time was right, it is not just a question of calling yourself Dragon Master. As I said, the honour can only be bestowed by the dragons themselves. The most intelligent ones have their own society, you know. It is called the Society of Dragons. And there is a special artefact that is needed, which is no longer in the possession of the S.A.S.D. It is called the Dragon’s Eye. Woe betide us if Ignatius Crook should ever lay his hands on it. But as I have told you far more than I needed to, do not ask me any more questions. Time is drawing on.”

  Mademoiselle Gamay and Emery left, and Dr. Drake, who I supposed must be a Dragonologist First Class, asked Billy to show us the “signs” of the Dragonological Apprentices. There were three of these, and they were the means by which one dragonologist could recognise another in secret. The first sign was a gesture — a fist held loosely at one’s side while the index finger pointed to the ground. It could be made without drawing attention to oneself and symbolised the fact that dragonologists have sworn to conserve and protect all dragons even were there to be only one single dragon left. The second was a call for assistance — the hands were crossed and raised over the head in fists. This sign was easy to see from a distance, and dragonologists were duty-bound to answer such a call if they ever saw it. Finally, there were the words. Billy explained that there was an ancient dragon r
iddle that was used as a password. Dr. Drake asked him and Darcy to demonstrate it to us.

  Billy smiled. He and Darcy stood up and went to the front of the class.

  “When a dragon flies . . . ?” he asked.

  “He seeks it with his eyes,” said Darcy.

  “When a dragon roars . . . ?” asked Billy.

  “He holds it in his claws,” concluded Darcy.

  “You see,” said Dr. Drake. “It is quite simple. This is the password, but it is only the first part of the riddle. The rest of it goes like this:

  When he slumbers deep, he dreams of it in sleep,

  But there beneath his head, it forms his stony bed.

  “Now, I wonder: Can any of you new apprentices guess the answer to that riddle?”

  I thought about it. But it wasn’t a very difficult riddle. I soon had the answer, and so did Beatrice and Alicia. Our hands shot up.

  “What is it?” asked Dr. Drake.

  “Treasure!” we chorused, smiling.

  After lunch, classes in dragonology began in earnest. Dr. Drake went to the blackboard and drew a diagram showing how dragons breathed fire.

  “Today,” he said, “we are going to begin our lessons by remembering that dragons can be very dangerous. They can breathe fire, after all.”

  Dr. Drake then gave us a brief lesson on fire breathing. Apparently, some dragonologists believed the theory that dragons produce helium gas or methane, which they then ignite with a spark. In fact, as Dr. Drake pointed out, they actually spray out a fine mist of venom that has evolved so as to be flammable. They light the spray with a spark produced by knocking together a piece of rock, known as iron pyrites, and a piece of flint. They even carry these around with them in a special pouch in their mouths that has actually evolved for the purpose over millions of years.

  “Some dragons must travel a great distance to find the necessary rocks to produce the spark,” said Dr. Drake. “But fire breathing is just one of the ways in which dragons can be dangerous. To counter this danger, the experienced dragonologist must remember five simple words beginning with F. They are known as the Five F’s of Dragonology.”