The Society Of The Blue Dragon

Written by J.P. Caruthers

The Society Of The Blue Dragon

Copyright © by J.P. Caruthers, 2009

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition 1.3, July 2010

www.allmyfiction.com

This book is a fictional work; any likeness to events or individuals is entirely coincidental.

Introduction

It was three o’clock in the morning and the park was dark. The silence of the night was suddenly shattered by the sound of the museum alarm, and in the distance, police sirens started to wail as the boys in blue raced towards the scene of Bromsgrove’s latest crime. Suddenly a figure appeared at the top of the high stone wall that split the museum gardens from the park, and with cat like agility it leaped into one of the adjacent trees. Like a monkey, the figure rapidly descended to the grass below and looked around furtively, and then with the speed of a startled deer it set off sprinting across the damp grass.

Like a shadow it raced through the park, leaping over fallen tree branches and dodging bushes. At the far side of the park the figure slowed as it approached the eight foot park boundary wall. Like a cat it leaped up, and grabbing hold of the edge, it swung itself onto the top. As it did so a small object fell unnoticed from its clothing, landing in a large rhododendron bush nearby.

Taking a brief moment to look around, the figure dropped down the other side of the wall into an alley which led off to the main street. In the darkness of alley, the figure pulled off the black ski mask and tight fitting overalls, revealing a young oriental woman in smart clothes with long dark hair and piercing green eyes. Picking up her black overalls and mask she stuffed them into a carrier bag, before walking casually towards a small grey car, a satisfied smile on her face.

Chapter 1

Imran arrived home from school depressed; he hated assignments, why did they all have to be about collecting things? Last week it was cuttings from newspapers, the week before collecting news stories from television.

Imran could see this week’s assignment was going to be a problem. The teacher had asked the children to collect an insect from their garden, and bring it into class the following day.

His problem was that he lived in a terraced house, where the front door opened onto the payment, and the back yard had been concreted so that his father could repair taxis. His mother said she got lonely on her own, so when his father suggested he should work from home to save money, his mother was more than happy to sacrifice the small back garden.

Imran thought of telling his teacher about his lack of a garden, but Mrs. Radley was well known for her lack of sympathy, so he decided that it would be safer not to attract her attention. His friend Gem had gotten on the wrong side of her, and she had made Gem’s life unbearable for the rest of the year.

Imran had decided he would walk up to the local park, and search around in the long grass or the trees. He was sure there would be some mini beastie he could take into school hiding there. He heard his mother call from downstairs, it was time for tea; afterwards he would ask his mother for a collecting jam jar to hold interesting bugs he might find.

He quickly changed into jeans and a T shirt, and went downstairs to the dining room. Sitting down at the table he sniffed the delicious aroma of roast chicken and fresh bread wafting from the kitchen, it made his mouth water. Busily playing football at lunch time, he had completely forgotten to eat his packed lunch, and now his stomach growled with hunger.

Mrs. Ali came out from the kitchen carrying the plates, “Be a good boy and go fetch your father, he never stops, he’ll work himself to death out there.” Always willing to help his mother, Imran jumped up and ran through the kitchen, and into the back yard. There he found a red Honda accord, with a missing front wheel. Sticking out from under the vehicle was a pair of legs wearing overalls and work boots. “Shabaz,” shouted Imran, “its time for tea!”

From underneath the vehicle, a muffled voice replied, “Just finishing this clutch, the man needs his car for tonight.”

Imran wrinkled up his eyebrows; “quick dad,” he pleaded, “mums putting it on the table, you know how upset she’ll be if your food gets cold.”

From underneath the vehicle Shabaz groaned, “of course your right son, give your old man a hand out from underneath this deathtrap.” Imran grabbed hold of Shabaz’s legs and pulled, effortlessly his father slid out from underneath the car.

“Nice” said Imran admiring the trolley his father was laying on, “You finally listened to me and bought yourself a slider.”

“It’s my age” replied Shabaz laughing, “It’s finally caught up with me, now lets get washed. If Asifa catches me putting fingerprints on her clean table cloth again, I’ll end up being buried under my own patio.”

Shabaz quickly pulled off his overalls, and placed them on the top of the car. He washed his hands at the outside tap, then grabbing Imran’s arm he said, “Come son, there’s safety in numbers,” and led the way into the house.

After tea Imran took a large empty pickle jar from the cupboard in the kitchen. If the beasties were going to be returned to their habitats after tomorrow’s class, they would need plenty of air. He decided ten sounded like a nice number, so with one of his mum’s sharpest meat skewer’s he stabbed ten small holes in the metal lid.

Having told his mother where he was going, he left the house, making his way down the road that led to the park. He did not have to walk far before he arrived at the entrance to the Bromsgrove Municipal Gardens. Above the gate hung a sign that said ‘open eight am to nine pm’. The thought of being locked in the park at night made him shiver.

The park was deserted, the parents and kids had gone home for tea, and the noisy teenagers hadn’t arrived yet. The air was thick with the scent of blossom from the large cherry trees, and the sun had sunk below the level of the adjacent buildings, leaving the park cool and shaded.

Imran’s teacher had told the class, insects generally like shade and damp; a good place to find them is underneath the leaf litter. The park was well maintained, and the previous autumn leaves had long since been cleared away. But after scouting around he managed to find a patch of leaves litter hidden under a large rhododendron bush near the boundary wall.

Not wishing to damage the bush and get in trouble with the park warden, he carefully crawled in and set about searching the ground. He moved leaves here and there, until he found a large black shiny beetle, with ferocious looking jaws that were almost as big as its body. Although he wasn’t scared of insects, he really didn’t wish to touch it, so he scooped it into the open jar using the lid as a barricade. Sitting there, he watched it for a while through the glass. It scurried backwards and forwards, furiously trying to find an escape route that didn’t exist, and somehow he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty for kidnapping it.

He had put down the jar, and was busy searching the ground close to the trunk of the rhododendron bush for more insects, when something caught his eye. He could see a shiny object poking out from under the leaves close to his hand. Curious, he moved the leaves aside and found a white shiny square tile about the size of the palm of his hand.

Picking it up, it felt cold and smooth to the touch, and it seemed to be made of a material similar to his mum’s best china tea set. Turning it over he found on one edge there were some small oriental symbols that looked familiar. Some soil had stuck to the smooth surface, so in an effort to see the writing more clearly, he rubbed the object hard on his jeans to clean it. As he did so, there was a sudden popping noise, and a flash of blinding white light.

Imran blinked, and then he blinked again just to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. Instead of the rhododendron bush and the park, he found himself surrounded by dense undergrowth. The air was hot and damp, so hot that it was hard to breath. In the undergrowth grew strange looking trees and bushes. Droplets of water fell from the tree canopy above onto the thick grass and large soft leaved plants that surrounded him.

He could hear animal noises; the chirping of birds, and the sound of flying insects. The sounds reminded him of the television programs about the rain forest that he had watched on the discovery channel. He stood for a while confused, how could he have been transported to the rain forest in the blink of an eye? If anyone had invented a teleport device, it would have been on the news, or in the papers.

After some time had passed, he gave up thinking and decided he ought to take a look around. ‘There must be some great insects here to collect,’ he thought to himself. But he was surprised when, after forcing his way through the undergrowth, he found himself in a large clearing about the size of a football pitch. Here the ground was bathed in bright sunlight. The sky was a beautiful blue, and there were no clouds in sight.

The clearing appeared to be the result of a forest fire that had raged fiercely, burning the forest down to ground level. Imran’s clothes were so damp that it seemed odd to him, that a fire could start in this forest, with all the water drips raining down from the trees above.

In the center of the clearing stood a large mound of earth that was so large, that one could almost call it a hill. ‘Maybe’, thought Imran, ‘I can get a better view of where I am from the top of the hill’. So he made his way across the scorched earth and burned tree roots, and climbed up the steep slope of the mound.

At the top of the mound, rather than being flat, it had a large dent. On closer inspection it did not look natural; it looked more likely that some enormous beast had piled up the soil to make a huge nest.

Sure enough, in the center of the hollow lay a collection eggs. They were big like ostrich eggs, and an unusual shade of yellow, with soft pink swirls. Scared he might get in trouble if he touched the eggs, he looked around nervously. Whatever had laid them there must have been quite a size, but there were no obvious tracks through the thick impenetrable jungle, that an animal could use to enter the clearing.

If he had not been right next to the clearing, he would never have stumbled into it by accident. The eggs could only have come from some giant bird he decided, but looking up, the clear sky was empty. ‘Maybe’ he thought to himself, ‘the nest is abandoned.’

He reached out to touch one of the smooth eggs, but to his disappointment it was cold. As he stared at the eggs, one caught his eye because it was a slightly different color and pattern to all the others. It was a slightly darker shade of pink, and also had some wisps of violet color. He reached out and picked it up to examine it more closely, to his surprise it felt warm, no, it felt hot. ‘This one is still alive’ he thought to himself, ‘I should take it home and try to save it.’

Holding the egg carefully, he started to make his way back down the mound of earth. Halfway down his right foot tangled on a root and he stumbled. With his hands full holding the egg he rolled headfirst down the slope landing in an uncomfortable pile at the bottom.

He picked himself up off the floor and was relieved to find the egg was undamaged, but the white tile he had found in the park had fallen from his pocket, and it now lay on the ground next to his feet. He reached down to pick it up, but as he grasped it in his fingers there was a popping noise, and the same flash of bright light.

Imran blinked, to his relief he found himself bent down in front of the rhododendron bush in the park, still holding the white square and the brightly colored egg.

He looked at the white square in his hand, and felt unsafe holding it, wondering if it would suddenly move him somewhere more dangerous like the moon, or the bottom of the sea. Safer he thought to put it back where he found it, and not speak of it to anyone.

Carefully he replaced the tile in the leaves under the bush, and picking up the jam jar and the egg, he trotted back across the empty park to the gate.

It was dusk and the light was starting to fade rapidly. His mum would worry if he wasn'’t home before dark, so he ran the rest of the distance and arrived just in the nick of time. Home and Away was ending, and luckily, even though he was late, his mum had been enjoying her favorite TV show so much that she’d barely noticed he had left.

He jumped into the living room and pushed the jam jar in front of her face. He was disappointed that she didn’t shriek and run away when she saw the beetle, but instead she smiled and took a book from the shelf. After flipping through the pages she handed it to Imran. On the open page of the book was a color picture of his black beetle, which continued to furiously charge around its glass prison.

“It’s a Stag beetle,” said his mum, “if you like you can borrow that book, and take it to school. That way you will be able to draw its picture and write about it more easily.”

“Thanks mum,” said Imran giving her a hug, “I found this in the park as well,” and showed her the strange egg.

“It was abandoned in its nest when I found it,” he said, talking twice as fast as normal, “can I hatch it? Please can I mum?”

“It looked like a painted ostrich egg to me,” replied his mother, with a doubtful look on her face,” I think someone’s played a joke on you.”

His mum saw the look of disappointment on his face, and since she was quite sure it was an ornament she added, “There’s no harm in trying to hatch it now is there”. Had she thought the egg was real, she might have been concerned about what type of animal the egg would contain. All manner of animals come from eggs, snakes, crocodiles, sharks, dinosaurs, and not are friendly to children.

He cheered up immediately, and as it was time for bed, his mum filled a hot water bottle and told him to wrap it up with the egg in a towel, and put it somewhere safe where it wouldn’t get broken.

In his room, the safest place he could think of was his open sock draw. ‘And beside’ he thought to him self as he climbed into bed, ‘what could be more comfy for an egg than a box full of clean socks?’

Imran woke suddenly in the darkness. The house was silent, and looking over at the luminous clock by his bedside, he saw three in the morning. As he lay there wondering what had awakened him, he heard a strange noise from his sock draw. Excitedly he sat up, it could only be the egg hatching, and he couldn’t wait to see what kind of bird it would be.

He quietly climbed out of bed and looked into his sock draw. Pulling back the towel he could see a large crack had formed across the top the egg, and as he watched, he could see the small creature inside pushing trying to brake out. The shell was tough, and try as it might the baby animal seemed to be no closer to escaping its shell. After a few minutes of watching, his impatience got the better of him and he gently prised open the top of the shell. With a crack the shell gave way and the animal inside clambered onto Imran’s hand.

He stared at the infant with surprise, and it stared back with its big shiny black eyes. What every the animal was, Imran could see it was defiantly not a bird. It did have talons for feet, and small wings, but it was covered in tiny red scales instead of feathers. Instead of the usual two feet, it had four, and a long thin tail. With its long lizard like mouth and nose, it looked like a miniature prehistoric monster.

As it stood blinking on Imran’s hand it started to shiver. He gingerly picked it up expecting it to bite him, but to his surprise, it allowed him to carefully wrap it up in the towel. He carefully placed it back in the draw on the hot water bottle and it didn’t struggle, it seemed to know he wasn’t going to hurt it. He happily climbed back into his bed; he couldn’t wait to show his mum and dad. Even though his mum didn’t like pets, maybe she would let him keep this odd looking animal.

Chapter 2

When he awoke, Imran climbed out of bed in his usual early morning daze. Pulling on his school uniform he went to the bathroom, and brushed his teeth. He had washed his face, and was just combing his hair, when he remembered the hatched egg. ‘I must have been dreaming,’ he thought to himself, but he went back into his room and looked in the sock draw anyway.

He was surprised to find he hadn’t been dreaming at all, the towel and hot water bottle were there with the fragments of broken shell, but the animal was nowhere to be seen. Imran hunted for it pulling all the socks from the draw, and the clothes from the chair. He was just about to look under the bed, when he noticed the small face peeping out at him from under the corner of the duvet.

Unable to believe his own eyes, Imran gently rolled back the duvet. The animal looked much the same as it did the previous night, but a good nights rest seemed to have perked it up. It got to its feet and shook itself. Taking a few steps across the springy mattress, it started bouncing with squeaks of delight. Every time it reached the top of a bounce, it flapped its small wings. Each time it bounced, its wings held it up just a fraction longer. Imran watched in amazement, in no time at all the animal could almost fly.

There was a shout from down stairs “breakfast ready!” Imran reached out to pick up the animal but before he could, it leaped onto his wrist and calmly walked up his arm to his shoulder. Once there it settled itself comfortably like a parrot. “Hold on tight” said Imran, and as if it understood, the animal dug its talons into his jumper.

Entering the kitchen, he sat down at the table in front of the waiting plate. His mum placed two steaming soft boiled eggs and slices of toast on his plate, and placed a mug of steaming tea next to him.

“Mum, Dad,” he said as he attacked his first egg, “the egg hatched.”

“Really” said his dad looking over his newspaper failing to notice the gargoyle sitting on Imran’s shoulder, “what egg was that?”

“One he found in the park dear” said his mother.

“What kind of bird was it then?” asked his dad.

“I don’t really know” replied Imran as he gently placed the animal on the table next to his plate.

The animal walked to the center of the table and sat down, while Imran’s mum and dad sat staring at it with dumfounded expressions on their faces.

“Well I never,” said his mum, “I’ve never seen one of those before.”

“Really dear?” asked his father, “there’s a picture of one painted on your teapot.”

“Oh yes, it does look a bit like a dragon doesn’t it” replied his mother, “only smaller.”

Imran’s father leaned over the table and took a closer look, “Well I’m not an expert in these things but miniature or not, it defiantly looks like the real thing to me.”

“So can I keep it?” mumbled Imran his mouth full of buttered toast.

“As long as it doesn’t make a mess or get any bigger” said Imran’s mother with a smile.

Happily Imran broke open his second egg. As he spooned the soft inside onto a slice of toast, and cut it into small squares, the dragon strolled across the table and sat down next to his plate.

He looked at the dragon’s expectant face and suddenly felt a painful pang of hunger. It licked its lips with its forked purple tongue, and started to drool. He picked up a square of toast and passed it to the outstretched talon of the dragon who took a first careful nip of the corner. The toast met with the animal’s approval. It was polished off in seconds, accompanied by a scaly grin, and a warm feeling of satisfaction in Imran’s stomach.

He picked up his mug of tea and took a sip, suddenly an alien voice spoke inside his head “hey, can I have some more toast?”

Imran breathed in his tea in surprise, and started to choke. Tea came gushing out of his nose and his eyes streamed with tears.

“Are you ok,” said his mum as his father rushed to vigorously slap him on the back. “It spoke to me” coughed Imran, through his tea.

“I never heard anything,” said his father.

“No,” replied Imran, “it spoke to me in my head.”

Imran’s father scratched his ear, “your just imagining things son.”

“Honest dad” protested Imran, “it really did!”

“Perhaps it’s a telepathic dragon” replied his father with a shrug.

“Don’t listen to him,” said his mother reproachfully. “The old fool doesn’t know what he’s talking about. There’s no such thing as telepathy!”

“And there’s no such thing as dragons,” replied his dad laughing, pointing at the dragon on the table.

“What’s telepathy dad?” asked Imran.

His father thought about the question for a moment before replying, “I’m no expert in these things son, I think its more than just hearing voices in your head. Maybe it’s like Starwars, it will be feelings and memory’s as well.

“You mean like a Jedi knight” said Imran.

Images from the star wars films started to flash through his mind, and all of a sudden the dragon sat up on its haunches and waved a claw at him. Imran heard Obeone Kanobie’s voice said, “That’s not the toast you’re looking for!”

Grinning Imran pushed the plate towards the dragon saying, “Go on, help your self.” The dragon happily obliged by wolfing down the toast squares in record time.

‘How come,’ thought Imran, ‘mum and dad didn’t notice you when we came into the kitchen?’

‘A cloak of invisibility?’ came back the reply ‘no, just a simple mind trick really.’

Imran’s mum looked at the clock and jumped up with a shriek, “Imran, its time for school, you’ll be late.”

The dragon licked the butter off its front claws before walked up his arm, making its self comfortable on his shoulder.

Quickly Imran cleared away his plate and gave his mum a big hug. Picking up his schoolbag and jam jar he ran for the door. His mum didn’t make a comment about the little dragon sat on his shoulder, or even ask him where it had disappeared to. It was almost as though she had forgotten it existed.

Imran suspect the dragon was responsible for his mum’s apparent memory loss. But at least he wouldn’t have to explain where he found the egg, or how he got there. Explaining away a dragon was hard enough, without having to make his parents understand teleportation.

On the way to school, Imran met his friend Jonas at the usual street corner. To his surprise, Jonas didn’t seem to notice the little dragon perched on Imran’s shoulder. Imran knew Jonas couldn’t keep a secret, so he decided he would keep quiet about his strange adventure. The last thing he wanted was a group of noisy children scaring the dragon away.

They walked onwards towards school chatting about last night’s television programs, and the large furry caterpillar Jonas had found on one of his mothers favorite potted plants.

Imran looked into the clear plastic tub that Jonas was carrying, and admired the insect which was happily munching on some leaves; “looks cool”.

Jonas grinned, “yer me mum wouldn’t even touch it. She paid me a quid to get rid of it!”

He pulled out a large bag of pick and mix from his coat pocket, “want some,” he asked, holding out the bag.

Imran took a couple of wine gums, and putting one in his mouth, he passed the other to the dragon. The dragon licked it suspiciously, but finding it to its taste, it wedged the whole gum in its small mouth and started to chew.

As usual, Jonas dawdled towards school with the enthusiasm of someone going to a dentist appointment. By the time they arrived they were late, and to Imran horror, when he entered his classroom his teacher Mr. Murray was already taking the register. Mr. Murray was a very strict time keeper, anyone who was late had to stay in at break time. Imran tried to apologize for his lateness but Mr. Murray appeared not to hear. In fact he did not even seem aware that Imran was there.

The voice in Imran’s head told him to sit down quietly and the teacher wouldn’t notice him. He breathed a sigh of relief, the dragon was altering Mr. Murray’s mind so Imran would not get into trouble. Safe, he sat down quietly while Mr. Murray finished taking the register, and giving out the usual class notices.

After registration Imran’s first lesson was Math. The math teacher was a big stout woman called Mrs. Gregory. None of the kids liked Mrs. Gregory’s lessons, mainly because when she asked a question, she made the pupil stand up in front of the whole class to give the answer. If the kid got the answer wrong then she called them stupid, and the other kids would laugh.

The children sat down quietly in the classroom, and opened up their math’s books at the page number which was written on the board. Mrs. Gregory sat at her desk marking books. In front of her stood the potted fern that she watered, cleaned, and pampered as if it were the last plant on planet earth. Imran had often spent math’s lessons gazing at it, dreaming about how great it would feel to jump up, and fling the horrible thing out of the window.

Today, the only free seat was at the desk directly in front of the teacher’s desk, so nervously Imran sat down hoping the fern would shield him from her view. The dragon had no such worries, and made its way down from his shoulder onto the desktop. On the smooth surface it walked around examining the contents of Imran’s pencil case. Finally, after some deliberation it picked up a pencil. Holding it like a jousting lance it charged across the table, and speared Imran’s furry pencil case with a fatal blow. Triumphant the dragon strutted backwards and forwards, waving to the crowd like a victorious medieval knight.

Realizing it had exhausted all the entertainment on Imran’s desk, the dragon chose a new challenge. Without warning it galloped across the desktop and before Imran could stop it, it launched itself off the edge of the desk with a giant leap. Imran dived off his chair onto the floor in a desperate attempt to catch the falling animal, only to watch the dragon unfurl its small wings, and glide across the room to the teacher’s desk.

Mrs. Gregory sat bolt upright and shouted, “What are you doing on the floor boy, get up this instant.”

“Sorry miss,” replied Imran sheepishly as he hurriedly got back on his chair, “I dropped my pen, and when I lent over to pick it up I slipped and fell, it was an accident.”

The dragon performed a perfect landing and stood on the Mrs. Gregory’s desk staring at her. It was right in front of her face, but she couldn’t see it staring at her with its shiny black eyes. The dragon boldly approached the potted plant, circling around to examining it in detail, and then the dragon turned and winked at Imran. He froze, watching the dragon in horror knowing that it was about to do something bad, but at the same time eager to see Mrs. Gregory get her just deserts; he just hoped the dragon would not get him into to much trouble.

Turning to the plant, the dragon issued a large unexpected burp. A stream of blue flames belched from its small mouth, and the fern burst into flames. Mrs. Gregory shrieked with fright before fainting, falling backwards, and overturning her chair. The girls screamed, and in the chaos of the children trying to retreat, desks and chairs were overturned.

Meanwhile Imran sat watching the dragon as it danced a jig around the burning bush. The flames were getting hotter, and the papers on the desk were starting to singe. Spotting the open window he understood the dragon’s plan. He bravely stepped forwards and grasped the plant by the base, and with a scream of victory he hurled it though the window.

Alerted by the screams and sounds of chaos, Mr. Burlington the headmaster rushed into the room just in time to see Imran hurl the flaming plant into the car park.

“Quiet,” bellowed the head master, instantly the room was silent. “What’s going on here?” he demanded. The class favorite Julie Newton stepped forwards to answer him, “Mrs. Gregory’s plant set on fire and she fainted behind the desk sir. Imran saved us by throwing the plant out of the window.”

With a doubtful expression on his face, the headmaster strode forwards and looked behind the teacher’s desk. Sure enough he found Mrs. Gregory lying prone on the floor.

With the help of the school nurses smelling salts, the headmaster managed to revive the unconscious teacher; who after a few minutes had recovered sufficiently to confirm Julie’s strange tale. The headmaster scratched his head, then after a moments thought he shook Imran’s hand and said “quick thinking boy, fantastic effort”.

You could have heard a pin drop in the stunned silence of the class room. Then a second later the magic spell was broken by the bell, which rang for the start of break.

“Right children, time to go outside,” said the headmaster jovially. Imran picked up his book and pencils and opened his bag to find the dragon was hiding in there. But it climbed up his sleeve and out onto his shoulder, as he made his way out to the playground.

In the playground all the other children crowded around him patting him on the back saying things like “nice one mate”. The gossip spread like half melted butter on hot toast, and within minutes Imran was surrounded by bigger kids from the years above.

“That was ace,” said one of the older kids, “you threw the old bags plant through the window and the head shook your hand for it”. Suddenly everyone was chanting “Imran, Imran, Imran, Imran.” Imran went blushed, he had never been popular, and all he could do was smile broadly rendered speechless by all the attention.

After break he made his way to his next lesson, today it was geography which was one of his favorite subjects. He made him self comfortable at the back of the class, and was just starting the first task set by the teacher when he heard the excited dragon say, ‘There’s someone else here.’

‘Yes,’ thought Imran, ‘there are lots of people here.’

‘No, not people,’ replied the dragon fidgeting feverishly, ‘I mean there’s another dragon here.’

‘Are you sure?’ thought Imran. The thought that there might be other dragons had never entered his head.

‘Look around,’ replied the dragon excitedly, ‘it will be sat on someone’s shoulder.’

Imran looked around, but he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He stared at the boy in front, but there was no dragon hiding down his grubby collar. Then he looked at the boy to the right, no scaly reptile was hiding in those pimples. Imran scrutinized each of the other boys and girls in turn, but there were no grinning serpents as far as he could tell. Maybe the dragon had been mistaken, but then suddenly something caught his eye. As he sat watching his eye settled on the small Chinese girl sat at the front of the class. Her long dark hair slowly moved as a thin blue scaly tail unfurled itself from behind her long hair. From his position on Imran’s shoulder the dragon had seen it to, unable to contain its excitement it started to hop from one foot to another.

‘What’s with you?’ asked Imran.

‘Do you know her’ asked the dragon.

‘No, I’ve not seen her before’ replied Imran, she’s a new girl.’

‘Why don’t you go and talk to her’ it said.

‘After class’ replied Imran, ‘anyway, what’s the rush?’

The dragon hesitated before it replied, ‘I’ve never met another dragon before,’

‘Well’ thought Imran, ‘why don’t you just go and talk to it.’

‘I can’t do that,’ replied the dragon, ‘its just bad manners for someone like me to barge in. I have to be introduced.”

‘If I’m going to introduce you,’ thought Imran, ‘we’re going to need to give you a name.’

‘I already have a name,’ the dragon replied with a very feminine giggle, and making a mock curtsey it said, ‘presenting princess Argaithia daughter of Argathon.’

‘Princess?’ said Imran out loud, but he didn’t get an answer as the bell rang for the end of class.

Imran followed the Chinese girl out of class; Argaithia seemed to suffer from an attack of shyness, and had decided to hide herself in his sleeve.

“Lana,” shouted Imran down the corridor, “I want to ask you something.”

“Sorry,” she replied untruthfully,” I’ve already got a boyfriend.”

“No, it’s not that,” said Imran blushing, “I want to talk to you about your friend.”

“Who” asked Lana?

“The blue dragon that’s sat on your left shoulder,” said Imran with a knowing wink.

Lana’s face turned pale, “you can’t see him, and you’re bluffing.”

“I can see him,” replied Imran, “perhaps it’s because I have a dragon to.”

“Don’t be silly, you couldn’t have one,” said Lana pompously, “and if you did why can’t I see it?”

Imran laughed, “She asked to be introduced to your dragon, but now she’s hiding up my sleeve; I think she’s shy.”

“She?” said Lana doubtfully, “my dragons name is Belzorne, now come on, let’s see yours.”

Imran held out his hand palm side up, “presenting princess Argaithia.” Argaithia wriggled out of his sleeve, and standing on his hand gave a graceful curtsey.

Both Lana and Belzorne stared at Argaithia in astonishment. Argaithia’s beautiful crimson red scales glowed and shimmered in the sun, seeming to radiate heat and a ruby red light at the same time. Lana was speechless, Grandfather had told her that dragons were blue or green and always had been; but here was the most perfect red one, looking back at her with its unblinking black eyes.

“How did you get her,” demanded Lana, “dragon eggs are very rare, and you don’t look Chinese to me. They only hatch when the right person holds them. My Grandfather says, there’s one in a million chances of you finding an egg, and there’s not much chance of you being the right person to hatch it either. Belzorne’s egg was kept by my family for eight generations before it hatched for me.”

“Rare?” replied Imran, “I found a whole nest full of eggs, there must have been more than twenty. All the eggs were cold apart from this one; I think it was the only one alive, so I took it home to look after it.”

“They only get warm when they are going to hatch silly,” said Lana, “but please say you will come home with me for tea. I want my grandfather to meet you and Argaithia; I don’t think he would believe me unless he sees her with his own eyes!”

“Ok” said Imran shrugging.

“I’ll meet you at the main gate at home time,” said Lana and with a quick wave she was gone.

Chapter 3

Imran was as good as his word, after school she found him waiting for her at the main gate to the school. Argaithia and Belzorne seemed excited to see one another, and chased each other in circles as they flew round the children’s heads. As children walked, Imran told Lana about his adventure in the park the previous evening. He told her about his suspicion that the nest was not in the park or England, and that maybe it could be somewhere in the past or on another world in another galaxy. Lana wasn’t sure if she believed Imran’s far fetched story, but she knew her grandfather would know what to do.

On the way to Grandfather’s house they stopped at Imran’s home to tell his mother where he was going, and to leave a telephone number so she could ring if there was an emergency. Although slightly surprised Imran’s new friend was a girl, she said nothing, and just smiled as she waved bye to the pair as they disappeared up the road.

It did not take long to reach Grandfathers house, as it was only a few streets from where Imran lived. The building was a small neat bungalow in a prosperous street, close to the park where Imran had discovered Argaithia’s egg. Lana knocked on the door. It was opened by a small, wizened looking Chinese gentleman, with long white hair, and a long white beard. “Ah it is you Lana,” said Grandfather looking over the top of his thick glasses, “and I see you have brought a friend. Come in, come in.”

Inside the house the shades were drawn, and the rooms were lit with dim lamps. Imran looked around in wonder, everywhere he looked were ornaments from ancient china. On the walls hung ceramic plates inlayed with gold, blue and white vases stood in rows on shelves. Even the curtains were made of a shiny red and gold material, covered with pictures of dragons and flowers.

Grandfather ushered them into the living room where the table was laid out with a jug of juice, and plates of biscuits and sandwiches. They all sat down and helped them selves to the food while Belzorne, up to his usual antics, pranced round on the table with a half eaten ham sandwich hanging from his mouth. Grandfather tried to pretend Belzorne was not there, but Imran could see his eyes flowing Belzorne’s antics around the table top.

“Grandfather” said Lana through her sandwich, “I’ve found another dragon”.

Grandfather sighed, “what is this nonsense about dragons then?”

Lana rolled her eyes, “Grandfather, its no use pretending; Belzorne can’t hide himself from Imran.”

“Nonsense” said Grandfather, “he could only see Belzorne against his will if he had a dragon of his own.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” replied Lana as she grabbed another sandwich, “he has his own dragon.”

“Really?” asked Grandfather, “where is this mythical beast then?”

Imran laid his arm gently on the table “Come out Argaithia, princess of dragons”. Argaithia squeezed herself out of his sleeve where she had been hiding, and marched haughtily across the table to where Belzorne was sat munching on the remains of his sandwich. Playing along Belzorne bowed down till his head touched the table. Argaithia gestured for him to rise, whereupon Belzorne leaped up and grabbed a cheese sandwich, and then with head bowed he proudly presented it to Argaithia as a gift.

She regally accepted the sandwich, and then with a toothy smile that looked rather out of place on a dragon, she gave Belzorne a quick kiss on the head.

Belzorne stood with a confused expression on his face and turned from sky blue to lilac. Lana giggled and nudged Imran, “I think he likes her.”

Grandfather had been struck silent by the sight of Argaithia. He took a swig of orange from his glass and managed to stammer “she’s a she, and red it’s just not possible.”

Although the significance of Argaithia might have slipped past the children, Grandfather was somewhat of an expert in all things dragon related. In recent times all dragons had been born male, and either green or blue; which led experts to the conclusion that, dragons would shortly become extinct, as there were no females to lay eggs. The last female dragon had died over twelve hundred years ago which gave little hope that one of the existing eggs would hatch out a female dragon. Every hundred years one of the few remaining eggs would meet a suitable human and hatch, but there were so few eggs left. Grandfather had known for many years that time had run out for dragon kind, but suddenly everything had changed.

“Tell me,” said Grandfather excitedly, “how did you come to meet our lady Argaithia?”

Imran recounted his adventure in the park from the beginning, and today’s fiery fern in math class.

“Fire?” said Lana scornfully, “dragons don’t breathe fire, that’s just a fairy tale.”

“We don’t breathe fire?” said Argaithia with a laugh, “maybe someone should have told me.”

“I’m not lying,” protested Imran, “show them Argaithia, show them you can!”

“Hold up a cheese sandwich my loyal companion,” requested Argaithia with a grin. Belzorne ever willing to oblige, sat on his tail and held the triangular sandwich above his head.

Argaithia took a deep breath as she trotted forwards, then with a loud burp, a torrent of blue flames issued from her open maw engulfing Belzorne and the sandwich with a generous helping of fire. While the flames didn’t appear to bother Belzorne one bit, the sandwich was not so lucky. As the sandwich browned, the cheese melted and started to drip on his head.

Lana laughed with tears streaming down her cheeks as Belzorne licked the cheese from his forehead with his long tongue, and then waddled across to Grandfather to hand him the toasted cheese sandwich.

“Bon Appetite,” said Belzorne with a grin.

Grandfather took a thoughtful bite from the toasty, “perfect, my thanks to the chef.”

As he munched on the toasty he thought about Imrans adventure, “it appears we have much to discuss. Finding the white tile under the rhododendron bush can be no accident. Especially since fate took Imran to the nest where he just happened to find an egg that would hatch for him. Fate has planned this from the beginning. We must act; it is not up to us to question such a rare opportunity.”

Grandfather leaped up from the table, and left the room with a surprising amount of energy for a man of his years. The children heard the sound of him rummaging around, and then he suddenly reappeared carrying two large baskets.

“There’s not a moment to loose” he said, “I have decided we must go back to the park, and try to bring back more eggs. Maybe, just maybe, we can save our friends from extinction.”

Chapter 4

Twenty minutes later Imran, Grandfather, Lana and the two dragons entered the park. The sun was starting to set over the museum wall, and the shadows were getting long. They made their way to the rhododendron bush at the far side of the park. The ground underneath the bush had not been disturbed, and to Grandfather’s obvious relief, Imran soon located the white object hidden underneath the dead leaves.

Holding the tile being carefully not to squeeze it, he crawled out from under the bush. “I’m not sure if this will work,” he said, “but gather round and hold tightly onto my wrist. Close your eyes, the flash is really bright. Are we ready to try?” the others nodded and held onto his wrist tightly. Gripping the tile in the palm of his hand, he squeezed it tightly. Suddenly there was the familiar popping noise, and flash of light. Opening his eyes, Imran was relieved to find that the others still holding onto his wrist.

“We’re here” he said looking around, but here did not look anything like he remembered.

They found themselves in the middle of a barren desert of cinder and ash. The soil was scorched and blackened, and the flat terrain punctured by the charred stumps of thousands of great trees.

“There is no forest here,” said Grandfather stating the obvious.

Looking down at the thick layer of ash on her shoes Lana said, “I think were standing on what’s left of it.”

In front of them was the small hill, just as Imran had described, and despite the surrounding destruction it appeared to be untouched.

“That’s the nest,” said Imran pointing at the top of the small hill, “I hope the other eggs are ok.”

They waded across the plain of ash and struggled up the steep sides of the hillock. At the top of the mound, to their surprise they found the eggs were still nestling in the hollow, untouched.

“I wonder what happened to the forest,” said Imran looking at the surrounding desolation.

“A forest fire Grandfather?” asked Lana.

“I do not know,” said Grandfather, troubled, “it looks deliberate. That could be bad news for us.”

“Grandfather,” cried out Lana excitedly,” I see something coming.”

In the distance but approaching rapidly, Lana had spotted a huge winged beast; it glided and swooped through the air with remarkable speed. The sun reflected of its fiery red scales and large pointed teeth. As it approached it let out deafening scream that sent chills of fear down the backs of the children.

It swooped onto the ground, and came charging towards them at a gallop that made the ground shake under its tremendous weight. Flames spouted from its nostrils, and Lana let out a piercing scream. Imran stood rooted to the ground; there was no where to run, and nowhere to hide in this barren landscape. The humungous beast skidded to a halt at the bottom of the hillock, its huge head level with Lana, Imran and Grandfather. Imran closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable scorching flames to engulf him, he regretted every having agreed to come back to the park, and wondered how his mother would ever find out he had been turned into a cinder.

The flames never came there was silence, and then Argaithia said “father?”

A booming voice that shook the inside of Imran’s head and rattled the filling in his teeth replied, “is it you little daughter, is it really you?”

“Yes father,” replied Argaithia gleefully, “it is me, I hatched.”

“Then I’m relieved to find you well,” said the dragon joyfully, “when I couldn’t feel your presence I thought you had been murdered by eggnappers.”

“Happily no father,” replied Argaithia with a toothy grin, “I found a human companion in another world far from here.”

“A world with humans? There’s something I never thought I would hear of again,” said the dragon, “when I felt your return I came as fast as I could fly.”

“We saw father,” said Argaithia with a giggle, “I think you’ve given the family quite a fright, they’ve never seen a full sized dragon before.”

“Oh, forgive me if my appearance startled you” said the dragon, “it wasn’t meant to alarm.”

“Not at all,” said Grandfather looking rather pale, “don’t mention it.”

“Daughter,” said the dragon to Argaithia, “are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

“This is my father king Argathon,” said Argaithia proudly,” Father, this is Imran, Lana, Grandfather, and Belzorne.”

“I’m delighted to meet you all,” replied the old dragon, “more delighted than you can possibly imagine. When my Argaithia’s egg vanished I thought the wolves had taken her, so frantic with worry I burned the forest in the hope of finding them. I seem to have made an unfortunate mess. Now tell me daughter, what has passed since you vanished.”

“Oh father,” said Argaithia, “I was hatched in a world full of humans, millions of them and few dragons. With our humans are gone, while we stay here my brothers and sisters will never hatch.“

“That is the unfortunate truth,” replied Argathon, “It is only a matter of time until we are gone from this world.”

“But it needs not be so” cried out Argaithia, “I have brought my companion and friend’s; the old one has a plan that will save my brothers and sisters.”

“Well then, you had better tell me of this plan,” said Argathon resting his giant head on the top of the mound so he could hear more clearly.

“May we take the eggs with us so that they might hatch in this new world,” pleaded Argaithia, “we can rekindle the long partnership between humans and dragon kind.”

Argathon stood thinking for a moment. Imran and Lana looked at Grandfather, who held up his finger to his lips. Imran and Lana nodded silently and waited for Argathon to answer, but they did not have to wait long.

Argathon cleared his throat, “to stay in this would is undoubtedly the end of our kind, what is there to loose. Before you gather up your brothers and sisters I ask you to grant one request to an old dragon with not many years left.”

“What is it father?” asked Argaithia concerned.

“Do not look worried child,” replied Argathon, “I do not wish to be left alone in this dead world. All I ask is that I may travel to the new world with you?”

Argathon’s eyes looked so sad that Imran wondered how many years he had been here on his own. The expression on the old dragon’s face was too much for the others to bare, and while everyone was wondering how to smuggle a twenty five ton dragon out of the park, no one had the heart to leave the king alone in this desolate place.

“My lord,” said Belzorne, “might I make a suggestion before we travel?”

“Yes of course,” replied Argathon, “what is it?”

“Well sire,” continued Belzorne, “in a land without dragons a fellow of your stature might cause some panic among the humans”.

“Yes,” said Argathon, “a reduction in size is an excellent idea,” and to the amazement of Grandfather, Lana, and Imran he started to shrink rapidly. In no time at all Argathon had reduced himself to the size of Belzorne and Argaithia, whereupon he flew across to grand father and settled on his shoulder.

“Ah, a convenient perch,” he said contentedly in Grandfathers ear, “I think maybe you and I old man, should stick together.”

“Yes,” replied Grandfather, “at our age it isnt easy to find company”.

Imran was still trying to work out how a huge dragon could change into a tiny one when Grandfather nudged him, “Time is short, we must gather the children and be gone before the park is locked for the night.”

Lana and Imran set to work gently placed the eggs into the wicker baskets they had brought with them. The baskets were heavy but Lana and Imran managed to carry a basket each. They made their way carefully down from the nest and back across the cinder to the place where they had arrived. There they grouping together, held hands, and closed their eyes ready for the journey. Imran reached in his pocket and grasped the white square firmly; with a familiar popping noise they vanished in a flash of light.

They opened their eyes, and thankfully they were back in Bromsgrove Park again. Looking around, Imran was relieved to see Grandfather, Lana and the three dragons were all safe. Lana and Grandfather started to open the bags to check the eggs, but Argathon reassured them, “You need not worry, the children are unharmed.”

“Then we have been most fortunate your majesty,” replied Grandfather looking relieved.

Argathon looked at Grandfather with a smile, “were in your world now, I’m no longer a king, just a tired old dragon. You lead and I will follow.”

“In that case,” said Grandfather, “It is time we all were home. We would not want Imran and Lana to get into trouble.”

The party picked up their pace and made their way through the twilight. The park was unlit at night giving it a spooky atmosphere. Imran and Lana were only too glad to reach the safety of the well lit payment, and escape the clutching shadows of the park. It was time for Imran to be home, so Grandfather led them on a route that passed Imran’s home so they could drop him and Argaithia at the house.

“Please can you visit us tomorrow morning?” asked Grandfather, “you and Argaithia should be part of this too.”

“I’ll be over after breakfast,” replied Imran going in through his front door, and wondering exactly what he was going to be part of.

Chapter 5

The next day Argaithia woke Imran early. While he washed and dressed she played with one of his model cars, then together they went down stairs for breakfast. His parents found he was uncharacteristically quiet at breakfast. But in truth, he and Argaithia were too busy discussing the previous night’s adventure to talk out loud. “I’m just off to Lana’s for the day,” said Imran giving his mum and dad a quick hug, “but I’ll be back in time for tea.”

His mother waited until she heard the front door slam before commenting, “Shabaz, I think Imran’s really got a thing for that girl.

Imran’s father grinned, “Yes he’s a lady’s man just like his father”.

“You are a bad man,” said Imran’s mother laughing.

Imran and Argaithia reached Lana’s grandfathers house soon after nine. They walked up the neat path and rang the bell. There was the sound of running feet and Lana wrenched open the door. “Come in, come in,” she said grabbing his sleeve and dragging him inside, “we’ve been waiting for you.”

In the living room the small table groaned under the weight of the eggs.

“We were waiting for you to arrive,” said Lana, “so you could learn about dragon’s eggs and see how they’re looked after. Grandfather says Argaithia might have eggs herself one day, and he might not be around to help you with them.” Imran was too busy inspecting the patterns on each egg to do anything other than nod.

The eggs were covered with differing patterns. Some were covered in swirls of color, others circles. There were deep reds, light blues, pale yellows, fiery oranges, indigoes and violets. If the colored patterns gave an indication to the color of the dragons they contained, when they hatched they would release an amazing rainbow of flying serpents.

Grandfather and Argathon came into the sitting room dragging a large dusty brass chest. The antique box was heavily bound, and re-enforced with silver metal. The outside was beautifully embossed with ancient scenes of pagodas and dragons.

There was a squeak as Grandfather slid back the bolts on the chest and opened the huge lid, it appeared to be for storage. The inside of the box was covered in a padded red silk material, and contained empty racks that the three dragons recognized immediately.

“How you come by this a chest?” asked Belzorne, “it is has only one possible use.”

“Well, that is a long story,” replied Grandfather. “My family belonged to the secret society of the blue dragon. Since before the dark ages, my forefathers were entrusted with finding compatible human companions for the blue dragons within our care. The box was passed down through the family for many years until it came into my possession. Belzorne was one of the last two eggs the case contained.

“There is another egg?” said Argathon.

“Yes” replied Grandfather, “but we should speak of this later, for now we should place your offspring into the safety of this chest where no harm can come to them.”

Carefully the eggs were transferred one by one into the chest, and when they had finished, all the slots were taken apart from one.

“That’s your place” said Imran to Argaithia. She smiled a toothy smile, “after a few hundred years an egg becomes quite a dull place, I prefer it out here thank you.”

“Grandfather,” said Lana counting the eggs, “how is it that there is exactly the right number of places.”

“Dragons always lay thirty eggs,” replied Grandfather, “no more, no less. Who knows why? But I think perhaps its time for tea.”

“And toast?” piped up Argaithia, licking her lips.

With the aid of Lana, Grandfather had soon brewed a pot of Chinese tea and made a large stack of buttered toast. Before sitting down Grandfather opened a cupboard, and produced a heavy, dusty wooden box. Setting it down in the middle of the table, he sat down and started to sip his tea.

For a while the group carried on munching toast and sipping tea. But then after a few minutes, Lana couldn’t stand it any longer, “Grandfather, tell us what’s in the box?”

“It will be easier to show you,” said Grandfather flipping back the lid to expose the contents. In the center of a nest of black velvet lay a golden egg. The egg appeared to be made of solid metal, and its surface was engraved and embossed with Chinese symbols. Inlayed into the patterned surface of the egg was shiny onyx carvings of a black dragon, with shiny red jewels for eyes.

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