Dragon Keepers #3: The Dragon in the Library (4 page)

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St. George was, because if he did, he'd have told her for sure. It wasn't the threat of getting beaten. It was something about her eyes. He was vaguely aware of Daisy crawling around on the floor by his feet. The next minute, the screen turned white, then just as suddenly, it went black. Jesse looked down.

Daisy sat on her heels with the computer plug in her hand. Jesse pulled his fingers out of his mouth and wiped the drool off on his sleeve. "Thanks," he said. "What a scary lady!"

"She's Top Dog," said Daisy.

"You're telling
me
," Jesse said with a nervous laugh.

"No, I mean that's who she is," Daisy said. "Don't you remember? She was on that TV show Poppy was watching this afternoon:
Top Dog
. She trains mean dogs to mind her. Her name is Sadie Huffington."

"Oh," said Jesse. "I guess I was busy smashing up the brussels sprouts."

Daisy plugged the computer back in and sat in her chair. "Google Sadie Huffington, Jess," she told him, punching him lightly on the arm.

Jesse nodded and obeyed, waiting for the home page to return. When it did, he keyed "Sadie Huffington" into the Google search box. He expected

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the usual screen of lists to show itself. But instead he got: "Did you mean 'Uffington'?"

Jesse groused. "No, I did not mean 'Uffington.' I hate when Mr. Google does that," he said. He mashed down the keys, repeating the request for "Sadie Huffington." "Try again."

This time, the computer skipped directly to another site altogether. The scarlet banner across the top of the screen proclaimed: "UFFINGTON CASTLE."

Jesse pounded the computer table and said, "Come on, Googleheimer! Quit messin' with my head."

He was just about to click the cursor on the little red
X
in the corner to close the page when Daisy put her hand on his arm and said, "Wait, Jess. Maybe we should stay. Maybe this is the site we're meant to see. Read it."

39

Chapter 3 CHAPTER THREE GONE TO THE DOGS

"How does this help us find the professor?" Jesse said.

"It's a lead," Daisy said. "We're following a lead."

"A lead? What does
that
mean?" Jesse asked.

40

"Beats me," Daisy said. "But that's what detectives say when they're trying to track down a missing person. The professor is a missing person. So we have to follow leads. Maybe this is one of them. Read."

Jesse read the text on the screen aloud while Daisy paced before the fan.

"'Located in the south of England, Uffington Castle was a double-walled hill fort in the Bronze Age with timber box ramparts that were riveted with sarsen stones at a later period.'" Jesse paused. "Whatever the Sam Hill
that
means."

"I think that just means it's old," Daisy said, continuing to pace. "Keep going."

"Okay. Let's see. It says 'In the last Roman period, around the third century AD, there is evidence for considerable activity on the site, including ritual shafts, animal bones, and coins--'"

"What's a ritual shaft?" Daisy cut in.

Jesse shrugged. "Beats me. The site doesn't say." In the photograph, Uffington Castle was nothing but a pile of timeworn stones. But a modern-day artist's rendering showed what the castle might have looked like once. It was a simple structure in the shape of a triangle: one large, round stone tower flanked by wooden ramparts, each leading to a smaller tower. It reminded him of some of the

41

hilltop castles in southern France his parents had taken him to.

"Look, Daze." He got up and pulled her back to the computer. She glanced at the screen, and Jesse pointed to the main tower. "That's called the keep. It's also called the donjon."

"You mean the dungeon," Daisy said. "I thought dungeons were supposed to be down in the basement."

Jesse shook his head. "That's what everybody thinks, but they usually put prisoners up in the biggest tower so they could keep an eye on them. Those holes in the donjon are called squint holes. They're for looking outside at the approaching enemy. The bigger holes on the bottom of the ramparts are called murder holes. Isn't that cool?"

"Ugh!" said Daisy. "Not! Keep going." She returned to her pacing.

"Soldiers shot arrows through them. Or dumped boiling oil or hot sand down on the enemy."

"That is horrible!" Daisy said, stopping in her tracks. "You're right. This isn't helping us find the professor, Jess."

"But wait, Daze," said Jesse. "You're missing the best part. The garderobe."

"What about it?" she said without enthusiasm.

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"The potty!" said Jesse, chuckling. "This one was over the moat, so pee and poop went right into the water."

"Ew! Castles are gross!" Daisy said. "And we're wasting time now."

Castles weren't so much gross, in Jesse's opinion, as they had been built to impress. Inside, there was never any neat stuff, like suits of armor or spears or tapestries. All of that had been moved to museums. Still, it was enough for him just to stand within the dank, dripping rock walls, with all the pigeon poop, and imagine everything that had once gone on there.

On the screen, something caught Jesse's eye. Outside the wall of the castle was a little hill. It was labeled DRAGON HILL. Jesse moved the cursor over and clicked on the link. A new screen came up, and his heart began to beat a little harder as he read aloud the heading set in a medieval typeface: "'The Legend of St. George and the Dragon.'"

Daisy flew back to her chair. "What? Where?" she said.

"This. Here," he said, pointing to the screen.

Now Daisy read aloud: "'The most famous legend of St. George is of him slaying a dragon. In the Middle Ages, dragons represented the devil.'" Daisy sneered. "Boo. Hiss. Who are these people,

43

anyway? I don't like them." But she read on.

"'The village was terrorized by a dragon who lived in a cave in a nearby hillside. The dragon would come out at night and devour all the sheep and cows.'"

"Jeez!" said Jesse. "Don't these people know anything? Dragons don't eat sheep and cows. They eat broccoli and cabbage."

Frowning deeply, Daisy continued: "'Desperate, the king began to sacrifice maidens every full moon, until only the king's daughter, the royal Princess Sadra, remained.' Look, Jess," she said, pointing to a series of old tapestries on the screen. "Does this look like anyone we know?"

Jesse looked and his jaw dropped. Princess Sadra had long red hair and pale skin. And although he couldn't tell what color her eyes were, he began to get the same sinking feeling in his chest, so he looked away.

Daisy read faster now. "'The king said that anyone who could slay the dragon would be rewarded with the hand of his daughter. St. George heard about the king's challenge. On an armored steed of snowy white, St. George rode forth,' blah, blah, blah. Look." Daisy pointed to the picture of the handsome, golden-haired St. George in the next tapestry. "It looks just like him, doesn't it? The dirty

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stinking rat. 'Then he rode to the cave of the dragon. The dragon bore down upon him. Its head was immense and its tail fifty feet long.'"

Jesse broke in: "Do you think Emmy's going to get that big?"

"Yeah. No. Maybe. I guess so." Daisy buried her head in her arms. "I can't read any more, Jess. They're going to talk about smiting the dragon. I can't stand it."

It upset Jesse, too, but he read the rest of the story silently. When he'd finished, he switched off the computer.

"How bad was it?" Daisy asked, lifting her head, her face pale and her blue eyes filled with worry.

Jesse nodded. "He pierced the dragon beneath the wing with a sharp spear...where the dragon didn't have any scales. Then he found this humongous treasure in the dragon's cave and
Prince
George and his princess lived happily ever after in Uffington Castle."

"So are you thinking what I'm thinking, Jess?" Daisy asked.

Jesse nodded quickly. "Sadie.
Sadra,"
he said.

"Uffington.
Huffington,"
Daisy said.

"Princess Sadra and Sadie Huffington are the
same
person," they said together.

Before they could take their thinking any

45

further, Uncle Joe called up to them from the kitchen. "Dinnertime, you guys! Come and get it!"

They had skipped lunch. Up until a few minutes ago, Jesse's stomach had been growling, but now he wasn't the least bit hungry. "I don't think I can eat," he said.

"Me neither, but we've got to," Daisy said. "St. George's girlfriend has probably kidnapped the professor, and we're the only ones who can save him. We need our strength."

"We need more than that," Jesse said. "We need a
plan
."

Uncle Joe had made a pasta salad for dinner. It wasn't the cousins' favorite meal, but they shoveled it dutifully into their mouths.

Aunt Maggie, who had been in her air-conditioned advertising office all day, was cool and chipper. "You kids look a little careworn. Is something wrong?"

The cousins shook their heads.

"It's the heat," said Uncle Joe.

The cousins nodded.

"I keep telling you," said Aunt Maggie, "you should go to the town pool."

"Too crowded," said Daisy.

"No dogs allowed," said Jesse.

"Tomorrow we're taking Emmy to the Dell to

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dunk her in the brook," said Daisy.

"Poor thing," Aunt Maggie said. "I wish you'd let me give her a nice, cool summer haircut."

Both cousins set down their forks with a bang and said "NO!" loudly and firmly.

Aunt Maggie laughed and shrugged. "Have it your way, but honestly, you two, she'd be much happier if you'd let me take the shears to her. The fur will grow back by winter, you know."

Daisy tried to keep her voice level as she said, "I've seen how sheared sheepdogs look, Mom. They look naked and defenseless--and--and--and--"

"Completely undignified," Jesse finished for her.

"Well," said Aunt Maggie, trying hard not to smile, "we can't have an
undignified
sheepdog running around the place, can we? And speaking of dogs, we've got ourselves a new celebrity in town."

Uncle Joe, Jesse, and Daisy all perked up and asked, "Who?"

Aunt Maggie grinned. "That gorgeous redhead who trains dogs on TV," she said. "How about that? Little old Goldmine City has bagged itself a hot celeb."

Daisy flicked a glance at Jesse. "You mean Sadie Huffington?"

Aunt Maggie nodded brightly.

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Meanwhile, Jesse and Daisy were furiously banging each other's knees beneath the table.

Aunt Maggie took a long sip of iced tea, then said, "She even bought a house. A castle, in fact. Up on Old Mine Lane. You know the one, Joe? Built by the mining company during the Gold Rush. It's been vacant and walled-up for years."

"Well, what do you know?" Uncle Joe said with a wide grin. "Before they put up that big wall around it, we kids used to mess around up there. We played a game. It was called Storm the Castle."

Daisy slept fitfully that night, thinking of snake-eyed Sadie Huffington just across town from them. When she finally got out of bed and went into Jesse's room to see if he was awake, too, she saw that his bed was empty. It didn't take her long to find him in the kitchen, watching a rerun of
Top Dog
with the sound down, his nose not three inches away from the small screen.

Daisy waved her hands between Jesse and the TV. "Are you okay, Jess?"

"Sure," said Jesse, not taking his eyes off Sadie Huffington. "I'm studying her technique. Just look 'em dead in the eye and never let your steady gaze waver."

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Daisy switched off the TV.

Jesse blinked. "What's the big idea? You made my steady gaze waver."

Daisy rolled her eyes. "So long as we're both awake, we might as well figure out a plan."

"Okay," Jesse said, and he followed her obediently upstairs.

It wasn't much of a plan, but like some of their successful plans in the past, it started with spying. After breakfast the next morning, they told Uncle Joe they were going up to Old Mine Lane to check out the old castle and its new owner.

"Beware the patented Ten-Yard Stare," Uncle Joe said, his voice going all eerie. Then he added, "And no trespassing on private property, remember."

"Don't worry, Poppy," said Daisy solemnly. "We're just checking it out. She won't even know we're there."

"Oh, yes, she will!" Uncle Joe said with a wink. "Remember, she's a witch."

"Right," said Jesse with a sickly smile. "We'll try to remember that."

They took Emmy's breakfast out to the garage. While she worked her way through a bag of frozen cauliflower, Jesse and Daisy briefed her. They left out the part about the dragon-smiting, but they told