The Dragon in the Driveway (14 page)

But Jesse wasn’t looking at the Hobhorn. He was looking at the pasture before them. “Wow!” he said. “Look, Daze!”

Daisy turned to see. “Holy moly,” she said.

Stretched out across the pasture, from barn to brook, from the Deep Woods to the laurel bushes, was a vast circle of translucent dryads, of all shapes and sizes. Their long arms were intertwined as they moved together across the clover in a slow, rhythmic dance.

“There must be hundreds of them!” Jesse exclaimed.

“Thousands,” said Daisy.

“It’s the Great Dance of the Dryads!” Emmy said in a hushed voice.

Two figures broke away from the dance and approached them.

“Well done, Emerald. And well done, Dragon Keepers!” said Douglas Fir.

“We are dancing to c-c-c-celebrate our l-l-l-liberation from St. G-G-George’s spell,” said Lady Aspen.

A third figure came up behind them. He was thin and wrinkly, with a head of long straggly green hair and eyes that had huge green bags slung beneath them. Jesse and Daisy would have known the dryad anywhere.

“I think someone wants to thank you,” said Douglas Fir, stepping aside. “Willow?”

“
Thank
them!” said the willow. “I want to fall to the earth and kiss their feet! Oh, I am so happy to be free of my recent … unpleasantness. You have no idea! Why, I’m so happy … I could cry!”

“Please don’t,” said Daisy through a fixed smile.

“We’re glad we could help,” said Jesse, although he wasn’t sure how much help they had actually been. “Really, it was the hobgoblins—” He stopped and clutched at Daisy’s arm. A faint rumbling noise sounded from somewhere nearby under the earth. “What’s that?” he asked uneasily.

The dryads stopped dancing and cocked their leafy heads, listening.

“That would be Her Lowness,” said Douglas Fir. “She’s giving the earth a little shake-up, Queen Hap–style.”

“Do you mean an earthquake?” Daisy asked.

Douglas Fir nodded. “Yes. A small one. Very concentrated.”

“D-d-d-do not worry,” said the aspen. “It’s a v-v-v-very g-g-g-g-good sign!”

“St. George has been defeated,” Douglas Fir stated.

“I sure hope so,” said Jesse.

The next minute, the earth stopped rumbling and the dryads took up their dance again.

“Can you stay and join the dance?” asked the willow. “I promise I’ll stay as dry as a Texas cotton-wood in a drought.”

“You’ll be our very special guests,” Douglas Fir promised.

“W-w-w-we would be honored to have you in our midst,” said Lady Aspen.

“Thanks,” said Daisy, “but we can’t tonight. I promised my mother we’d get to bed early. It’s been a very long couple of days.”

“And nights!” said Emmy.

“But we can’t go home yet,” said Jesse. “First we need to drop off the big book at Miss Alodie’s house.”

“I have a feeling she’ll be waiting for us,” said Daisy.

“Well, if you’re leaving the Dell with that thing,” said Douglas Fir, “you’ll be needing some of these.” He held out a fistful of ferns.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE PERFECT COFFEE TABLE BOOK

Although Jesse, Daisy, and Emmy all held their ferns tightly, they didn’t fool Miss Alodie one bit. She saw them plain as day as she stood in her
backyard, her garden doors flung wide open. Waving her arms like a member of an airport ground crew, she guided the book through the open doors to land softly in the middle of her parlor.

“Heigh-ho, cousins, I’ve been expecting you!” said Miss Alodie, laughing merrily as she followed them inside and closed the garden doors firmly behind her.

Jesse and Daisy tumbled off the book, rolling into a heap on the soft rug. For a few minutes, they just lay there on the floor, side by side, safe and sound, and visible once again.

Eventually, they both sat up and looked around. It was the first time either of them had ever been inside Miss Alodie’s house. The inside of her house looked a lot like the outside. There were flowers everywhere: flowers in the wallpaper, flowers on the furniture covers, on the little throw pillows, on the rug, and even on the lamp shades! The air smelled of flowers, too, and it wasn’t the kind of fragrance that comes from a spray or one of those scented candles. It was the smell of real live flowers, all mingled together into one giant heady bouquet.

Not surprisingly, Daisy exclaimed, “I love your house!”

“Why, thank you, Daisy Flower.” Miss Alodie
lifted a floral tablecloth and put it over the big book, which had settled itself between the chintz couch and a pair of chintz-covered armchairs. Their hostess bustled around, making a careful arrangement on top of the cloth: a fan of gardening magazines, a flower-topped candy box, and a flowered vase with flowers in it. In no time at all, the book looked right at home.

Miss Alodie stood back and admired her work with a happy sigh. “I’ve always wanted to have an honest-to-goodness coffee table book, and now I have one, thanks to you three. Would anyone care for tea? I have fairy cakes with lavender icing and an apricot ginger tisane.”

Strange food
, Jesse thought. But this time he was too hungry to refuse.

“That sounds great! But then we have to get home. I promised my mom,” Daisy said through a king-size yawn.

Miss Alodie bustled over to the cozy little kitchen.

“Where’s Emmy?” Jesse looked around in a sudden panic. Then he breathed a sigh of relief. She was fast asleep on the rug before the fireplace, in her sheepdog shape. Jesse laughed and pointed at her.

“She’s completely pooped,” said Daisy.

Miss Alodie carried in the tea tray. She wanted to hear all about their adventure. Between bites of cake (eaten off delicate plates decorated with a pattern of violets and vine leaves) and sips of perfume-tasting tisane (brewed from wildflowers and drunk from teacups shaped like tulips), the cousins filled her in on every last thrilling detail.

“So what’s this dragon treasure that’s not really a treasure?” Jesse asked.

“You’ll find out all about it,” said Miss Alodie.

“But when?” said Jesse.

“Don’t tell us, we know,” said Daisy.

“When the time is right,” the cousins said together.

“How did you guess?” said Miss Alodie merrily.

“Meanwhile, what about the book?” asked Jesse. “We’re dying to find out what’s inside it. Can you read it to us?”

“Please?” Daisy begged.

“It will be my pleasure,” said Miss Alodie with a twinkle in her eye. “As soon as I figure out how to myself!”

Over by the fireplace, Emmy woofed in her sleep, her furry legs running as fast as they could carry her up and away into her dragon dreams.

That night Jesse e-mailed his parents: