The Case of the Vanished Sea Dragon

by Gareth P. Jones

  ‘It’s none of your business,’ Dirk growled, smoke billowing threateningly from both nostrils. ‘We had a deal.’

  ‘Calm yourself,’ replied Fairfax casually. ‘I have no intention of going back on it. I just want to know what’s been going on during the last six hundred years.’

  ‘Nothing’s changed. Humans still roam the earth, dragons still hide, fish still swim, birds still fly, rock’s still rock and I’m still I,’ said Dirk. ‘End of story.’

  ‘That’s rather poetic. And are the Kinghorns really on the rise again as those Drakes said?’

  ‘I am hearing they are planning to start a war,’ said Alba.

  ‘A war?’ replied Fairfax. ‘How terrible. And who is leading them in this war?’

  Alba lowered her voice. ‘A Mountain Dragon called Vainclaw Grandin. They call him the first up-airer.’

  ‘Enough,’ said Dirk, whose only encounter with the Kinghorn leader had almost cut short his own life. ‘If you don’t tell us where to find the Sky Dragon, I’ll open my mouth and blacken your yellow belly.’

  ‘No need for threats. I said I would tell you and I will,’ said Fairfax. ‘As you know, all dragons get energy from the earthlight that emanates from the Inner Core.’

  Dirk nodded. It was the earthlight which lit these tunnels far beneath the surface of the earth. It was as important to dragons as sunlight was to humans.

  ‘Sky Dragons need it as much as we do,’ continued Fairfax. ‘But when they have spent a long time as gas, floating high, far from the source of their power, they are considerably weakened. After materialising they are exhausted. A small dose of sugar will revive them temporarily but what they really need is to recharge with earthlight energy.’

  ‘So they come underground?’ asked Dirk.

  ‘Not just underground. When they materialise they need to build up their strength, so they go to the banks of the Outer Core, where they bathe in the liquid fire. It’s painful but effective. A Sky Dragon at full strength is a powerful dragon indeed.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’ asked Dirk.

  Fairfax’s mouth curled into a smile. ‘I have been around a long time. I’ve seen a lot of things. I remember a time when Sky Dragons roamed free, rather than hiding amongst the clouds. I’ve never heard of one kidnapping a Sea Dragon though.’

  Dirk considered whether he had been rash in freeing Fairfax Nordstrum. There was something he didn’t trust about the Cave Dweller.

  ‘Where will you go now, Nordstrum?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ll probably just go and find some quiet corner of the world to curl up in. I’ve been living on dirt for the last six hundred years. My needs aren’t great. I just want somewhere quiet with fresh vegetation. The Andes, perhaps, or one of those little deserted islands off Scotland.’

  ‘Good luck with that,’ said Dirk.

  Then, speaking in the ancient language of Dragonspeak, he asked the rock beneath his feet to take Alba and him down to the banks of the Outer Core. The rock, being rock, obliged unquestioningly and lowered the two dragons into the ground.

  ‘And good luck with your detecting,’ said Fairfax as they disappeared.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Archie and Holly hid behind a wall, watching Mr Bigsby wait at the bus stop. ‘I can’t believe you’re following your dad now?’ said Archie.

  ‘You can leave any time you want,’ replied Holly curtly.

  ‘Do you always spend your Saturdays like this or is it because it’s the holidays?’ Archie chuckled, clearly enjoying himself.

  ‘Shh,’ hushed Holly. ‘He might hear us.’

  The bus arrived and Mr Bigsby waved wildly at it, as though worried it might not stop. As he got on he looked uncertain how to pay.

  ‘I’m not sure he’s ever been on a bus before,’ said Holly.

  ‘I knew you were posh.’ Archie grinned, his hair falling over his brow.

  ‘Come on,’ she said.

  They jumped over the wall and ran to the bus before the doors closed. Archie got on after her. Her dad had gone up to the top deck. They sat downstairs at the back.

  ‘So, are you going to tell me why we’re following your dad?’ asked Archie.

  ‘I don’t trust the man he works for.’

  ‘Why? Who’s he work for?’

  ‘Brant Buchanan. He’s a billionaire. Dad only took the job because Big Hair kept going on at him.’

  ‘You don’t like your stepmum, do you?’

  ‘She’s not any kind of mum. She’s just his big-haired wife,’ replied Holly.

  Archie grinned. ‘She has got big hair. It’s like a bird’s nest.’

  ‘A big bird’s nest,’ agreed Holly.

  ‘Yeah, an ostrich’s or an emu’s. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s an egg in there.’

  Holly laughed and they spent the rest of the journey joking about what other wonders might lurk inside Big Hair’s big hair. They were on the same bus that Holly and Archie took to school. When it passed Gristle Street Comp the empty school looked drabber and more rundown than ever. It felt strange not to get off at the usual stop. A few stops later Holly suddenly went quiet and ducked, dragging Archie behind the seat as well.

  ‘He’s getting off,’ she whispered.

  ‘Shouldn’t we follow him?’ he asked.

  ‘Not yet. We need to keep our distance,’ she said, waiting until the driver was shutting the doors before jumping up and shouting, ‘Hold on, we’re getting off.’

  Waiting to cross the road, Mr Bigsby didn’t notice his daughter and her friend dive behind the bus shelter. Instead, his attention was drawn by a small crowd of protesters standing on the opposite side, outside two large silver gates. The twenty or so protesters held placards with slogans that read:

  ANIMALS HAVE RIGHTS TOO!

  DUMB ANIMALS WORK FOR GLOBAL SANDS!

  EXPERIMENT ON BRANT BUCHANAN

  INSTEAD!

  A couple of sturdy-looking policemen stood between them and the gates.

  ‘This must be the lab I read about,’ said Holly.

  Her dad crossed the road at a zebra crossing. She waited until he was all the way across before following. He didn’t go through the crowd, towards the silver gates, but walked straight past them instead. He stopped and looked around. Holly and Archie dived into the crowd to avoid being seen. One of the protestors had a loudhailer and was making a speech.

  ‘… Brant Buchanan sits up there in his ivory tower. Well, I’ve got news for you, Mr Buchanan. Ivory is illegal in this country and when we knock down your tower you’ll come tumbling down to earth.’

  To Archie this sounded like a load of clever words that didn’t really mean anything, but the other protestors seemed to enjoy it and cheered loudly, waving their placards in the air.

  ‘Come on,’ said Holly. ‘He’s gone round the side.’

  At the corner she stopped and poked her head around.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Archie. ‘He’s going through a back door,’ she replied.

  Holly turned the corner into a narrow alleyway. Set in the right side wall was a door. Archie moved to take a closer look, but Holly stopped him.

  ‘There’s a camera,’ she said, pointing. ‘They check who you are before opening it.’

  Archie saw on the side of the door a panel with an intercom camera. ‘So that’s it. We can’t go any further,’ he said.

  ‘I can,’ replied Holly. ‘But I need your help.’

  Archie looked at her disbelievingly. ‘Look, following people is one thing but breaking into a building is illegal.’

  ‘But this is important,’ replied Holly stubbornly.

  ‘Why? Because you don’t trust this billionaire bloke?’

  ‘Look,’ said Holly desperately, ‘Dad used to be an MP. He worked for the Ministry of Defence. Now Brant Buchanan wants Dad to tell him the whereabouts of a secret weapon.’

  ‘Brilliant!’ Archie clapped his hands.

  ‘So you’ll help me?’ said Holly hopefull
y.

  ‘Holly, what you’re talking about is called breaking and entering.’

  ‘No it’s not.’

  ‘Yes it is,’ exclaimed Archie angrily. ‘I should know, my dad’s in prison for it.’

  Holly was stunned. ‘Your dad’s in prison?’ she said.

  ‘Yes.’ The grin that lived on Archie’s face disappeared.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Holly.

  ‘I’m not. He’s an idiot,’ spat Archie.

  Holly didn’t know what to say. ‘Maybe he’ll have changed when he gets out,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t think so. The last three times haven’t stopped him,’ he said bitterly. He pushed his dirty blond hair away from his eyes and stared defiantly at Holly.

  Holly understood being angry with a parent. She had been angry with her dad ever since Mum had died. She had been angry at him when he married Big Hair so soon after her death. Every time he forgot her birthday or just gave her cash for Christmas she was angry at him. And now she was angry with him for accepting Brant Buchanan’s offer.

  ‘It isn’t exactly breaking and entering,’ she said at last. ‘It’s just entering.’

  ‘If your dad is doing something dodgy, call the police.’

  ‘The police don’t arrest people like Brant Buchanan. They protect him. You saw them outside the gates, holding back the crowds,’ said Holly.

  ‘Look, Holly, I enjoy a good game as much as anyone. Secret weapons and all, it’s fun, but this isn’t a game.’

  Holly needed to persuade him to help her. She couldn’t tell him the whole truth. He would never have believed her. But she remembered again the art of telling a good lie. Tell as much truth as possible, with one or two details altered.

  ‘The truth is I work as a detective’s assistant,’ she said.

  ‘What detective?’ asked Archie, sounding sceptical.

  ‘It’s called the Dragon Detective Agency,’ she replied.

  ‘Cool name,’ said Archie.

  ‘It’s my uncle’s agency. His name’s Dirk Dilly and he lets me help sometimes. That’s how I know about the secret weapon. I know it sounds unbelievable but I swear it’s true and I need to get into that building to find out what my dad’s up to.’

  Archie’s smile returned to his face. ‘Is that true? That’s really cool,’ he said.

  ‘So you’ll help me get in?’ said Holly.

  ‘Can I meet your uncle?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll introduce you some time,’ lied Holly.

  ‘All right,’ he said, at last, ‘what’s the plan?’

  Holly told him what she had in mind and got into position, along the wall by the door, out of view of the camera.

  Archie watched as the colour drained from Holly’s face and her whole body, including her clothes and shoes, turned the colour of the wall behind her, until all that was left were her brown eyes staring back at him.

  He approached the door, pressed the buttons on the buzzer and pulled silly faces at the screen. Eventually the door opened and a burly uniformed security guard with a thick black moustache appeared.

  ‘Get away,’ he said.

  ‘Can’t I come in?’ asked Archie.

  ‘Noh a chance,’ replied the security guard, in a thick Scottish accent.

  ‘But I live here,’ he protested.

  ‘Right, and Ah’m Princess Margaret.’

  ‘Your Majesty,’ said Archie, bowing.

  The security guard stepped forward threateningly. Archie saw Holly reappear and slip behind the man’s legs.

  ‘Ah’ll set the dogs on you if you don’t clear off,’ said the large man.

  ‘Sorry for wasting your time,’ said Archie, turning around and walking away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘I did not trust that Cave Dweller. He had a funny look. He had been locked away a long time. He cannot have spoken to anyone for many years. Imagine that, no one to talk to for all that time, just you and your thinking. Can you imagine it? Thinking this and that and that and this with no one to talk to?’

  Dirk imagined it. It sounded nice. There was something about travelling by rock that made Alba talk incessantly.

  ‘But one thing I am not understanding,’ she continued. ‘If a Sky Dragon is so weak when it materialises, how could one be kidnapping my sister? Delfina is a strong dragon.’

  ‘We don’t know much about them,’ replied Dirk. ‘I’ve never seen one. Not in the flesh, at least. What bothers me is why a Sky Dragon would want to kidnap a Sea Dragon at all.’

  ‘I cannot say, but I have heard that the Sky Dragons do not like other dragons. They think they are above us. Some say they can make a firewall. I have never seen what that is.’

  While Alba whittered on, Dirk’s mind wandered. He found himself thinking about Holly. He had got so wrapped up in this case that he had forgotten about her. He hoped she wasn’t getting herself into too much trouble. He would make it up to her when he got back and take her for a trip over London.

  As they neared their destination the pocket of shifting rock that surrounded them grew brighter and hotter, making Alba jumpy.

  ‘This does not seem right to me. The banks of the Outer Core are only for pregnant dragons,’ she said.

  ‘And convicted criminals,’ said Dirk, ‘but they don’t stop at the banks.’

  Only a handful of dragons had ever been banished to the earth’s Inner Core but of those who had, none had returned.

  ‘What do you think it is like down there?’ asked Alba.

  ‘I can’t imagine,’ said Dirk, ‘and I don’t plan on finding out.’

  Dirk thought about it. The blinding light and incessant heat would be unbearable.

  ‘Do you think it is possible to be surviving down there?’ asked Alba

  ‘It’s probably better if you can’t,’ said Dirk grimly.

  Even this far down the air was stifling and Dirk had to squint at Alba in the dazzling earthlight.

  ‘Brace yourself. I think we’re there,’ he said, feeling the rock pull away from under his feet.

  They tumbled on to a stony shoreline. Dirk felt disorientated. It was an odd sensation, like he wasn’t sure which way up he was. An acute burning feeling in his belly made him cry, ‘Yee-ouch!’ and jump to his feet. The scorching pebbles were painful on the tough skin of his feet but they had been agony on his soft green underbelly.

  At the edge of the shoreline was an ocean of liquid fire, bubbling and popping like it had a life of its own. It seemed to go on for ever, steam rising up, obscuring the horizon.

  ‘Welcome to the banks of the Outer Core, dudes.’

  The greeting came from a Firedrake, sitting on the edge of the shore. Firedrakes were relatives of the drab-nosed Drakes and had the same large bellies and tough skin, but their noses were upturned and their backs were covered in tiny holes. This one wore what looked like a pair of crudely carved sunglasses and held a long black ladle. By his side were rows of black metal flasks. He dipped the ladle into the sizzling liquid, scooped some up and poured it into a flask. He then lifted it to his mouth, gulping it down greedily, licking his lips and burping, sending blasts of steam shooting from his mouth, nostrils and all the holes on his back.

  ‘Wow, that tickles,’ said the Firedrake, leaning back and laughing.

  ‘I think this one is peculiar in the head,’ said Alba, tapping the side of her head.

  ‘Let’s go say hello,’ replied Dirk, approaching.

  The Firedrake turned to look at them. ‘Hey, dragon dudes, what’s happening?’

  ‘The name’s Dirk Dilly,’ he replied. ‘Why are you drinking that stuff, Firedrake?’

  ‘It’s my job, dude ... but I tell you what, after a while you develop a taste for it. The name’s Shute.’ The Firedrake extended a paw.

  Dirk shook it. ‘Shute?’

  ‘Shute Hobcraft, Firedrake, at your service,’ he said, taking another sip of liquid fire, shooting out steam and bursting into hysterics.

  ‘How can you drink somethi
ng so hot?’ said Alba.

  ‘You wanna try some? I’ve got some vintage stuff here,’ he said, holding up a flask. ‘It really clears out your passages.’

  ‘We’re looking for a dragon,’ said Dirk, already growing tired of the idiotic creature.

  ‘There’s one next to you,’ giggled Shute, pointing at Alba.

  ‘We’re looking for a Sky Dragon,’ said Dirk firmly.

  ‘A Sky Dragon. Woo, dude. I haven’t seen one of those for years.’

  ‘Come on, Alba,’ said Dirk. ‘Let’s check further along the bank.’

  ‘There’s no point,’ said Shute. ‘I can tell you, no Sky Dragon has been down this far in a long time.’

  Dirk turned to face him. ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘I’ll tell you if you have a swig,’ he replied, holding out the flask, sniggering.

  ‘I’m losing my patience,’ said Dirk.

  ‘Come on, I know you’re going to like it,’ insisted Shute.

  ‘All right, just one,’ said Dirk, taking the flask and looking warily at the bubbling liquid. He lifted it to his lips and took the tiniest of sips. The pain was immense. Dirk enjoyed a vegetarian vindaloo as much as the next dragon, but this was seriously scorching. Dragons needed fairly hardy insides to breathe fire but they didn’t have the same kind of internal insulation as Firedrakes.

  ‘Yeaahhhhhouch!’ Dirk screamed out in agony.

  Shute found this hilarious and fell about laughing. ‘It’s good, isn’t it?’

  ‘How can you be sure that no Sky Dragon has been this far down?’ said Dirk in a measured tone.

  ‘Because when any dragon goes into the liquid fire of the Outer Core the temperature drops, Sky Dragons, doubly so,’ said Shute. ‘My job is to test it. If it’s one degree cooler I alert the authorities.’

  ‘Why? asked Dirk.

  ‘Because it probably means that a dragon has tried to escape the Inner Core. The bigger the dragon, the bigger the temperature drop. You should have tried it when Minertia went down. It was, like, coool, dude. She was one big dragon. The same would happen if a Sky Dragon took a dip.’