Page 128 of Spark of Sorcery
“Do you think she’s doing the right thing, not telling the teachers about this dragon?”
“No,” I say, “and yes.”
Fly bites at his nails. “But, I mean, someone tried to kill her last night. And this time, not just a push from a rope ladder or an electrocution by kite, they nearly beat her to death.” He glances up at me with concern in his eyes. “And it sounds like if Professor Tudor hadn't found her, they would have succeeded.”
“What electrocution by kite?” I say, dropping my hand down by my side.
“Oh, it’s just, err, Iron figure of speech.”
“If she wore the collar, she’d be safe.”
“Yeah, I’ve told her that a million times, but she’s really damn stubborn. Maybe this will change her mind.”
We walk for a few minutes, the top of the first of the Highland hills visible over the tree-line.
“If the officialdom finds out she’s been hiding a dragon, she’ll be in serious trouble – the kind even Beaufort won’t be able to help her escape,” I say. Fly nods, and bites at his nail again. “But if she hands the dragon in, there’ll be all sorts of questions about where she found the stone, how andwhy. I can’t help feeling that might put her in even more danger.”
“You sound like her,” he observes. “Are her weird conspiracy theories rubbing off on you?”
“You mean her sister?” He nods. “I think it’s strange.”
“Hmmm,” he says, then lets out a huff of frustration. “We’ve walked miles. I’m starting to get a blister.”
“We need to find him,” I say. I can’t imagine returning to Briony with the news that we’ve failed.
“Yeah, I know.” He peers at me and the dead rat and then towards the hills, then places a forefinger and a middle finger from each hand in his mouth and blows really hard. A high-pitched whistle sounds through the trees.
At first nothing happens, and I think, like every other attempt to find this dragon, it’s going to come to nothing.
Then I hear a distant sound, like the rustle of branches.
“Hear that?” I ask.
“Uh huh,” Fly says, standing on his tip toes and scanning the canopy.
The next thing we know a dragon the size of a dog comes swooping out of the trees and snatches the dead rat right from my grasp. He takes off into the canopy immediately afterwards and zooms away out of sight.
“Was that him?” I ask.
“Looked like it. And, do we truly think there could be other dragons out here?”
It’s a good point, but I still say, moodily, “He’s grown a lot.”
“Well, at least we know he’s alive,” Fly says.
“Yes, but how are we going to convince him to come with us?”
“Got anymore rats in your pockets?”
“No.”
“Then beats me.”
I consider our options. “We know he’s safe,” I muse, “and keeping well hidden. I think we leave him until Briony’s well enough to come fetch him.”
“How long do you think that will be?” Fly says.
“I don’t know,” I say, thinking of her pale face and the whirring machines. “They nearly killed her.”
