Dragon Keepers #1: The Dragon in the Sock Drawer (6 page)

Daisy pointed to the framed pressed flowers. “Some of them heal you, some of them hurt you. Others make you strong, or brave, or smart, or calm,” she explained to Emmy. “That's what it says in my herbal. That's a book Miss Alodie gave me.”

“Gar. Den. Gnome,” said Emmy, nodding quickly.

“Right. We never
eat
the flowers, of course,” Jesse explained. “But it's fun to think about the powers they possess in their petals and stems and roots.”

“Roooooots,” crooned Emmy. Then she moved on to the skulls, which were Jesse's domain.

“We found these in the fields and in the Dee-Woods,” he told her. “Some of them still had flesh on them and were kind of gross. So I boiled them in a pot in the Rock Shop. They're pretty clean now. The Native Americans—and some African tribes—believed that the spirits of dead animals lived on in their skulls. We've got a calf, a mouse, a dog, a wildcat, and something else we haven't figured out yet.”

Emmy moved to what Jesse and Daisy called the Magical Doorknob, made of bright green crystal. “That came from the door to a magical world,” Daisy explained.

Then there was the Magical Milking Stool, the Magical Potion Bottle, and the Magical Horseshoes. “That stool is for sitting on during incantations,” Jesse explained. “That blue bottle there once held potions, and those horseshoes ward off bad luck and keep you from getting struck by lightning. Then there's that stuff up there,” he said, pointing to the rusty old farm tools hanging high on the barn wall. “We think that stuff might be magical, but it might just be old.”

Emmy's attention was drawn to a crusty old metal ball about the size of a peach. She wrapped her arms around it and crooned.

“That,” said Daisy, “is the Sorcerer's Sphere.”

“See,” Jesse explained to Emmy, “the man who once owned this farm wasn't just a farmer. He was a Magical Dairyman, a sorcerer. That's the sphere he used to cast his spells.”

“His cows gave magical milk,” said Daisy.

“When you drank the milk, you had the power to fly.”

“And talk to animals,” Jesse said.

“And breathe underwater,” Daisy added.

“At least we think so,” said Jesse.

Standing on her hind legs, Emmy rolled the Sorcerer's Sphere gently back and forth. Her pulse fluttered in her throat. “Like!” she said. “Like. Lotsandlotsandlotsandlots.”

“Here we go again,” Daisy said. “She's definitely hoarding.”

“Maybe not,” said Jesse. “It's not like it's gold or anything.” He stopped.
Or is it? Could there be gold beneath the dirt and the rust?

“We found it in the brook in the pasture,” Daisy told Emmy.

“We figure it belonged to the farmer. Maybe it's a piece from one of his old machines,” Jesse said.

Emmy shook her head quickly. “Not,” she said.

“You mean it didn't come from a machine?” Jesse asked.

“This. Old,” she said. “This. Oldoldoldoldoldoldoldold.”

“It's real old,” Jesse said, agreeing. “The farmer moved away ages ago…before Daze and I were even born.”

“Old!”
Emmy insisted with a rapid shake of her head. “From. The. Time. Be. Fore!”

Jesse shot Daisy a look.

“Really?” Daisy asked. “So what is it, then?”

The dragon stood taller and looked around, as if searching the barn for the answer. Finally, she said, “I. For. Get,” her eyes whirling.

“That's a big help,” said Daisy.

“Show. Em. Meee,” Emmy urged. “Show. Em. Meee. Where. NOW!”

“Whoa,” said Jesse. “Show Emmy where now
what
?”

Emmy turned away from the Sorcerer's Sphere and launched herself off the shelf before either cousin could catch her. She lifted her arms, and the delicate web of skin beneath each arm was enough to float her to the floor like a miniature hang glider. Then she scampered out the barn door.

“Maybe she wants us to show her where we found the sphere,” suggested Daisy.

When the cousins caught up with the dragon, they led her toward the brook to the spot where moss grew on the bank like tufts on a green velvet quilt.

“It was here,” said Daisy, pointing at the deepest part of the brook. At this time of year, the water came up to the cousins' chests. “We found it in August, when the water was really low.”

Jesse knelt down on the soft moss and dipped his hand into the water. He pulled it back. The brook, which flowed down from the Old Mother, was freezing. It wouldn't be warm enough to swim in until mid-August.

Emmy stood on the bright green moss and stared into the silvery brook. After a while, she began to make a high humming noise, her throat throbbing wildly. She stopped, then teetered. The next thing they knew, Emmy had tumbled into the water headfirst with a SPLASH!

“Yikes!” screamed Daisy. “I can't see her. Can you?”

Jesse tried to see beneath the surface, but the reflection of the sun on the water made that nearly impossible.

Daisy was already tearing off her sneakers and socks. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head and tossed it on the bank. Then she waded into the brook and, pinching her nose between her fingers, ducked under the water.

Seconds passed and Jesse waited. What if Daisy and Emmy both drowned? Or, more likely, froze to death? He kicked off his sneakers, peeled off his socks, took a deep breath, and prepared to save them both. Just then Daisy stood up in the middle of the brook. Sputtering and coughing, she was holding Emmy high in one hand.

Daisy waded toward the bank and thrust Emmy at Jesse. “Wrap her in my sweatshirt. I have to g-g-g-go get this wet stuff off or I'm g-going to f-f-freeze to death. Plan?” Daisy didn't wait for an answer. She flapped off like a wet seal. (She and Jesse each kept a set of clothes in the barn in an old wooden chest.)

Jesse wrapped Emmy up in Daisy's dry sweatshirt. He held her and rubbed her briskly until her shivering eased.

“Land's. Sakes!” Emmy cried, sounding just like Miss Alodie.

“What happened, Emmy?” he said.

“Fear. For. Em. Meee…,” she said.

“Well, I was pretty scared, too,” Jesse told her.

Daisy soon came back in dry clothes, rubbing her hair with a beach towel. “What frightened you?” she asked Emmy.

“See.
Things!
” said Emmy.

“What things?” asked Daisy, plopping down on the bank.

“Bad.
Man!
” said Emmy.

“What bad man?” said Daisy. “There was no bad man down there. All I saw was rocks and moss and you…you poor thing.”

“See. Bad. Man,” Emmy said. “Bad. Man. Get. Em. Meee. Em. Meee. Sad. Help. Em. Meee. Jesse. Day. Zee. MA! MA!”

Jesse held Emmy tighter and stared at Daisy.

Daisy shrugged helplessly.

Emmy stiffened in his arms. “Saint.
George!
” she cried, then passed out.

CHAPTER SIX

LOST AND FOUND

Jesse was at the computer, the connection was working, and Professor Andersson's face was back on the screen. Daisy paced behind Jesse, holding Emmy, who had not let them put her down since she had revived from her swoon. She was still wrapped up in Daisy's sweatshirt, with a purple kneesock wound around her neck like a muffler. The little dragon was sucking away on a stalk of raw broccoli as if it were a leafy green pacifier.

Jesse clicked the mouse and said, “Can you tell us about hoarding, please?”

They heard the professor clear his throat noisily. Then his bushy white eyebrows flew up and he began to speak. “‘Hoarding,' when it comes to dragons, is a misnomer.”

“Who the heck is Miss Nomer?” Jesse muttered to Daisy.

Daisy reached for the dictionary, but the professor beat her to a definition. “The word means ‘wrong name,'” he said. “‘Hoarding' implies greed, and dragons are the least greedy of all creatures.”

“Then how come he talks about hoarding in his book?” Jesse wondered aloud.

The professor continued: “In the dark years that followed The Time Before, many believed that dragons looted castle treasuries because they were greedy for riches. Now we know that this is not the case. Dragons require the properties of silver and gold and precious gems to maintain healthy bones and muscles. They quite literally absorb the minerals through their skin.”

“So it's like vitamins?” Daisy asked.

“Yes, think of it as vitamins,” said the professor. “Will that be all for today?”

“NO!” Jesse said. “Our baby dragon jumped into a brook,” he blurted out. “She said she saw a bad man named Saint George….”

“Slowly!” the professor said. “You are slurring your words. I do not understand Slurvian.”

Jesse took a deep breath and repeated himself, slowly and clearly this time.

The professor furrowed his brow. “Are you absolutely certain of this?” he asked softly.

Jesse looked at Daisy. Daisy nodded. Jesse said, “Yes!”

The professor's eyes lit up, and he smiled. “My, what a precocious dragon you have! It sounds to me as if your dragon was scrying! Marvelous!”

“What's scrying?” Jesse asked.

“Dragons gaze into pools or streams and, if the circumstances—the positions of the sun in the sky and the planets in their rotations—are right, they see pictures foretelling the future. The act is called scrying. Your hatchling is very young to be scrying. She must be a very powerful dragon, but powerful or not, she still requires your protection.”

“Who is Saint George?” asked Daisy.

The professor's face darkened. “Don't you know?” he said, frowning. “What are they teaching children these days?”

For a brief moment, the professor disappeared from the screen. Jesse and Daisy cried out.

Almost instantly, he appeared again and said, “Why, Saint George is the Dragon Slayer.”

Daisy clutched Jesse's shoulders.

“Therefore you must protect your dragon from him at all costs,” said the professor. “Remember, it is no accident that she has come to you.
She has chosen you.
Whatever you do, you must not betray that trust.”

Then the computer made the irritating grinding noise and the screen went blank.

At that very moment, the back door downstairs slammed. The cousins started.

Uncle Joe called up from the kitchen, “Hey, kids! What do we feel like for dinner?”

“What's the plan?” Jesse asked Daisy.

Daisy said, “We tell him what we feel like for dinner. Then we ask him for a favor. We ask him if we can keep a pet, to be exact.”

Daisy yelled down that they felt like chicken tenders and French fries. Then the cousins put their heads together to discuss the next part of their plan. It wasn't going to be easy. Uncle Joe didn't mind pets. Aunt Maggie did. It wasn't that she had anything against animals. It's just that they seemed to have had really bad luck with pets in their family. So it was going to take some doing to convince Aunt Maggie and Uncle Joe that violating the no-pet law was a good idea. Luckily, they were starting with the easy parent.

“He's really distracted by his latest project, so
he
should be a pushover,” said Daisy.

“Push. Uncle. Joe,” Emmy said. “Go! Go! Joe!”

“Emmy,” Daisy said sternly. “You cannot yak. You cannot say a single word. Pretend you're a very cute dumb animal. Pretend you're the cutest animal in the universe and the perfect pet for this household.”

“Em. Meee. Cute,” Emmy promised. “Like. Joe. Like. Lime. Stone. Like. Rock. Doc.”

“Did she just make her first joke?” Jesse said, wrapping Emmy up more tightly in Daisy's sweatshirt.

“No joking. No yakking,” Daisy said as she opened the door of Jesse's room. The aroma of fast food wafted up from the kitchen as they went downstairs. Uncle Joe was not much of a cook. They heard him setting the table for dinner.

“Hey, guys!” he said when he saw them. “Did you have fun gallivanting?”

“Yeah. Um, Poppy, we found something interesting in the Dell,” Daisy said.

“Something really nifty,” Jesse added.

Uncle Joe opened the refrigerator. Then he stopped and looked around the kitchen. “Did you guys clean today?” he asked.

Daisy winked at Jesse. “We did,” she said. “After we raided the refrigerator.”

“We got it back into apple-pie order,” Jesse said.

Uncle Joe gave them a funny look. He took out the ketchup and the mustard and set them slowly on the table. Uncle Joe put ketchup or mustard on most things he ate. Aunt Maggie liked to say that Uncle Joe ate like an eight-year-old.

Jesse found himself checking the ceiling to make sure the relish splat hadn't reappeared. It hadn't.

“So what interesting and nifty thing did you find?” Uncle Joe asked.

Jesse uncovered Emmy's head and held out the bundle in his arms. Emmy settled her big green eyes on Uncle Joe. Uncle Joe put down the fistful of forks and knives.

“Isn't she neat?” Daisy asked.

“Wow,” he said. He took a step closer. “You found her in the Dell, you say?”

The cousins nodded. They were now crossing the fingers on all four of their hands and holding their breath.

Uncle Joe took off his
ROCK STAR
cap and gave his ponytail a tug. Then he put his cap back on. “No one would say that she looks like your typical barn critter,” he said.

It was true. Emmy didn't look like any of the critters that lived in a barn. Emmy looked exactly like what she was. But since Uncle Joe didn't believe in dragons, he couldn't be sure what he was looking at.

“She's kind of cute for a lizard,” said Uncle Joe, smiling at Emmy as Emmy again fixed her big eyes on him. “You're a little cutie,” he said to her. He leaned close to her and cocked his head at the same angle as hers. “She looks like a very deep thinker, doesn't she? Makes you wonder what she'd say if she could talk.”

The cousins chewed on their lips and hoped Emmy wouldn't take the cue.

“She's really tame,” Daisy said.

“I think she's a green basilisk from Costa Rica,” said Jesse. “Or maybe an Indian sun skink.”

“Well, whatever she is, she's a long way from home,” said Uncle Joe. “She must be somebody's pet that ran away. Maybe you should post some signs around town.” He added, “She certainly looks valuable.”

Daisy groaned. Jesse bristled. He did
not
want to put up signs all over Goldmine City. Emmy was theirs, or they were hers—either way, she didn't belong with anyone else. She had chosen the two of them. Hadn't Professor Andersson said so?

Uncle Joe looked at Daisy, then at Jesse. “Ask yourselves this, guys: How would you feel if you lost a rare pet like this and the person who found her didn't make any effort to return her to you?”

It was hard to argue with Uncle Joe about this.

“Okay, but if we put up some signs and nobody claims her after a week, can we keep her?” Daisy asked. “Can we? Can we, Poppy?”

Jesse joined in the chorus: “Can we please, Uncle Joe?”

“We named her Emmy,” said Daisy.

“It's short for Emerald,” Jesse said.

“Because she's green and precious,” said Daisy.

Uncle Joe looked from one cousin to the other and back down at Emmy. He heaved a sigh. “Guys, this isn't exactly Fluffy, you know.” He was talking about Aunt Maggie's childhood pet, the sheepdog she had loved above all other dogs. “Where would you keep her?”

Daisy smiled and winked at Jesse. Uncle Joe was showing signs of softening. “Isn't my poppy adorable?” she asked Jesse.

Jesse wasn't sure that “adorable” was the right word for Uncle Joe, but under the circumstances he nodded vigorously.

“Where would you keep her, guys?” Uncle Joe repeated.

“For the time being,” Jesse said, “she's staying in my sock drawer.”

“That wouldn't cut it in the long run. She'd need a cage,” said Uncle Joe.

The idea of putting Emmy in a cage made Jesse slightly ill, but he nodded along with Daisy. Then Daisy clasped her hands together and fell to her knees. “If you say you really
want
us to keep Emmy, Mom will give in. I know she will.”

Uncle Joe closed his eyes. He sighed again. “I'll discuss it with her when she calls tomorrow. But no promises,” he said. “I'll do my best. And you guys have to put up some
FOUND
signs. If nobody claims her, then we'll see….
And
you have to promise you'll go online and research what kind of a lizard she is. Find out what she needs to be happy and healthy.”

Jesse came close to saying,
We already have!

         

After dinner, Jesse e-mailed his parents.

Dear Mom and Dad, Guess what? We have found a Costa Rican basilisk. Or maybe a sun skink. We're putting up signs. If no one claims her, Uncle Joe says we might get to keep her. If Aunt Maggie says it's okay. Could you pretty please e-mail Aunt Maggie and tell her you think it's okay?

He heard Emmy snoring in the sock drawer and finished his e-mail:

For now, we are keeping her in my sock drawer. She takes after Grandma. She really seems to have a thing for socks. Love, Jesse

Just as he was logging off, Daisy came into the room and showed Jesse a rough layout of the sign she had made on a page torn out of her wildflower notebook.

“Brilliant,” said Jesse.

“Thanks,” said Daisy. “You take care of the words. I'll handle the picture. Plan?”

“Plan,” Jesse said. And they both set to work.

Daisy measured Emmy as best she could, from horn to tail. “She's four inches,” Daisy said to Jesse.

Jesse nodded and added this information to the sign he was designing on the computer.

Daisy went downstairs and came back with Uncle Joe's digital camera. “I'm going to try very hard to make this the worst photo I can possibly take,” she announced to Jesse.

Jesse squinted at the computer screen and murmured, “You mean like those shots Uncle Joe takes of rocks?”

“Exactly right,” said Daisy, peering through the camera at Emmy. “Very fuzzy and very, very, very, very boring.”

By the time Daisy was ready to transfer the pictures from the camera, Jesse had the rest of the document all set to go. He had deliberately chosen a font that was hard to read. The cousins examined Daisy's photographs. They finally agreed on the most boring one to use for their sign.

“Not even Professor Andersson would be able to tell this is a baby dragon,” Jesse said. He selected the picture and dropped it in at the bottom of the document. Then he saved it and printed out twelve copies of the sign: