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Authors: Dugald A. Steer

BOOK: The Dragon's Eye
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“I thought it was a bit difficult, but there were some interesting drawings in it,” I said.

“You liked the drawings?” said Dr. Drake, smiling. “You are getting on well, I see. I shall test you on the chapters you have read after dinner, and we will see if you can have it finished by the end of the week.”

My heart sank. If I had to finish that great long book, there was no way I was going out.

When he had left the room, Beatrice turned to me and said, “Cheer up, Daniel! You know, Dr. Drake isn't quite as bad as —”

“Hang Dr. Drake!” I shouted. “And hang you, too!” And I stomped out into the garden to look at the rabbits.

My mood didn't improve during the whole three days that it took me to struggle through
On the Origin of Species.
But on the fourth day, an oxcart arrived with Emery, another man, and a boy in it. On the back of the cart was what seemed to be a large crate covered in a black tarpaulin.

“Hey, Daniel!” said Emery when he saw me. “Is Dr. Drake at home?”

“He went to Horsham with my sister,” I said.

“What about Dominique?” asked Emery, climbing down from the cart.

“Do you mean Mademoiselle Gamay?” I said. “She has gone out, too. They have left me behind, as usual.”

He nodded and then whistled. “Well, that sure is a shame! By the way,” he said, gesturing towards his companions, “This is Mr. Flyte, and this is Darcy Kemp.”

Mr. Flyte, who was much older than Emery and had a bald head, nodded, while Darcy Kemp, who wore large spectacles and was dressed in clothes that were ever so slightly tatty, with a cap and a necktie done up in a knot round his throat, came over and shook me warmly by the hand.

“Delighted!” he said. “You here for the school?”

I nodded.

“We're early,” said Darcy.

“Better early than late,” said Mr. Flyte. “But better late than never! We shall just have to leave our cargo in the coal shed.”

“You'll tell him his delivery has arrived, won't you, Daniel?” said Emery. “If he comes back before Darcy. Darcy has an errand to run.”

I nodded. And then I watched the three of them as they lifted the heavy crate off the oxcart with some difficulty. Being careful not to let the tarpaulin slip, they took it over to one of the large outbuildings that seemed to have been used as a coal shed. Emery took out a key and unlocked it, and they pulled the crate inside.

When he came out, Emery said, “Now, Daniel, there's no need for a young fellow to go snooping around in there. But I know what young fellows are like!” And with a broad smile, he locked the door again and pocketed the key.

And with that, the two men got back onto the oxcart, turned it around, and set off down the long drive towards the main road. Darcy winked at me and set off in exactly the opposite direction, towards the forest.

“See you later,” he said.

When I was sure they had all gone, I went back into the house and shut the door. I took up my book and started to read it, but I couldn't concentrate. I just had to find out what was in that crate. I knew there was a little window around the back of the shed with a broken latch, because I had managed to climb through it a couple of days before. Inside, it had been empty apart from a few old sacks, some coal, and three wooden beams stacked against a wall. So I went out to the shed and, trying my best not to get my clothes dirty, climbed in and went over to look at the crate. I lifted the tarpaulin that covered it, and a deafening screech sounded, making me stumble backwards towards the window. For inside the crate was a creature that could only be described as a baby dragon — the same one that had tried to attack me in London. It was clawing at the bars of the cage, shaking it and rocking it backwards and forwards most worryingly, beating its wings and looking at me so piercingly that I could not take my gaze from it even for a moment. I felt just as a frog must feel when it is being hypnotised by a snake. I couldn't move a muscle. All I could do was gaze into the creature's eyes as a wisp of smoke curled up from its nostrils.

 

The first thing that anyone who has ever studied dragons is likely to find out is that they can be extremely unpredictable. It is hard to know whether they will take a liking to you or not without actually putting yourself at risk. This was only the second time that I had seen a dragon, but from its size, even I could tell that it was only a baby. I guessed that it had been clawing at the cage because it wanted to get out. But there was something sadder and droopier about it than I would have expected in a terrifying fire-breathing monster. As I looked more closely, I noticed that it had sticky yellow phlegm dripping from its nose. Yet it was a fascinating creature. Its jet-black eyes were alive with intelligence. I just couldn't resist staring into them.

Some time later, I vaguely heard Dr. Drake and Beatrice returning from their trip. I heard them go into the house. Then I heard them come out again and call my name over and over. They sounded anxious. I should have called back, but I couldn't. All I wanted to do was look into those black eyes. Something inside made me desperate to free the dragon. I began fumbling with the lock.

Then Dr. Drake burst into the shed and quickly pulled the tarpaulin back over the crate. The moment the dragon was out of sight, I came to myself again. I started to feel frightened and backed over to the door.

“I'm sorry, little Scorcher,” said Dr. Drake, lifting the tarpaulin just enough so that he could peer underneath it. “I'm afraid you are going to have to stay here until I can get something a bit more fireproof fixed up for you. But I have brought you a treat at least!”

He took out a bag and pushed one or two pieces of meat through the bars, which the baby dragon devoured hungrily.

He carefully watched it eat, as though he was evaluating its condition. Then he did something really strange. He began to sing the dragon a soft, gently lilting song that seemed to send it to sleep. I could not make out any of the words but it felt strangely comforting.

Dr. Drake replaced the tarpaulin and said to me quietly, “You are an extremely disobedient boy, Daniel. You do not have any idea of the disastrous consequences that your actions could have. You have no idea how dangerous creatures like this can be. I had thought that studying some interesting books would have helped to curb at least some of your insatiable curiosity, but I now see that I was wrong. Come and see me in my study at eight o'clock. Now, have you any questions?”

“Can I ask you about the dragon, sir?” I said.

“All that I can tell you about the dragon, Daniel, is that he was left on my doorstep in London, that I have seen him before, that his name is Scorcher, and that he is sick, which is highly unusual in a dragon. I have some skill in healing dragons, however, which is why I have been out in the forest collecting special herbs.”

“How do you know so much about dragons?” I said.

“That is simple, Daniel,” said Dr. Drake. “I am a
dragonologist.

And with that, he led me out of the coal shed and back to the house, where Beatrice was very glad to see me. I was still upset that she had spent so much more time with Dr. Drake than I had, so I ignored her by pretending to read about the history of benzene in the manufacturing industries until she said, “Daniel, that book is upside down.”

“Is it?” I said, without bothering to turn it over. “Of course, you won't believe me as usual, but Dr. Drake is looking after a baby dragon.”

“I know,” she said.

Suddenly I felt myself getting really angry.

“You
know
?” I said. “So you believe in dragons now?”

“Yes,” said Beatrice. “I would never have believed in them, of course, but then I actually saw one in the wild.”

I was thunderstruck.

“You saw one in the wild?”

“Yes, Daniel. The one in the forest seems a bit dumb. I was scared at first, but Dr. Drake says it's all right as long as you are careful.”

“But why is he teaching you about dragons and not me?” I shouted.

“But he will teach you! That's what the summer school is all about. He is just very upset that you went sneaking round his shop without —”

“Oh, come off it!” I said. “I was looking for him. Could anyone
not
have looked through that keyhole when they heard all that screeching and roaring? Could anyone
not
have looked in the coal shed, knowing what was inside?”

“But dragons are dangerous, Daniel. All you have to do is prove to Dr. Drake that he can trust you, and he will teach you all about them. And I've found out that he isn't a ‘dracocologist' at all. He's a dragonologist.”

“I
know,
” I said.

At dinner that night Darcy joined us for the first time. He looked happy as he came out of Dr. Drake's study. Obviously whatever errand he had been on had been a success.

“So you are going to study dragons, too?” he said to us as we waited for the adults to arrive.

“Yes,” said Beatrice. “Will it just be us three?”

“No,” said Darcy. “Last year there was another boy. This year he's bringing his sister.”

“What are they like?” asked Beatrice.

“Well, they're rich,” said Darcy. “But they're all right. The girl is named Alicia, and the boy is named William. Everyone calls him Billy, though. He's got some funny ideas, but don't let that worry you. They're the son and daughter of Lord Chiddingfold. He's a man in the government. He's the Minister for —”

“Thank you, Darcy,” said Dr. Drake, who had just come in. “I am glad to see you three have been introducing yourselves. But class does not begin for a few days yet.”

After dinner, at eight o'clock, I knocked on the door of Dr. Drake's study.

“Come in, Daniel,” he said.

And so in I went. Dr. Drake was sitting behind a large desk, with a pen in his hand.

“I shall only be a moment,” he said. “Do sit down.”

I sat on a chair facing the desk. Dr. Drake went back to his work. He was writing what seemed to be a very long and formal-looking letter, and I had a chance to look around his study. It had hundreds of books ranged on tall shelves that ran right round the room. On the wall there was a large painting of Saint George and the Dragon and several other small paintings and sketches. At the end of the study, behind the desk, was a padlocked door. But what held my attention were some sheets of paper that lay on Dr. Drake's desk. One was a letter in a thin, slanting hand. The other was a sort of painted diagram of a gemstone. In the very centre of the gemstone was what looked like the reflection of an old man with an extremely long beard. Even though it was upside down, I could read the caption above it, which said,
The Dragon's Eye.
What also interested me was that I could see the signature on the letter next to it:
Ignatius Crook.

I am not very good at reading things upside down, but I did my best. I managed to make out a few phrases like
My Dear Ernest; my father, Ebenezer;
and
our most valuable family treasures,
before Dr. Drake put down his pen and shuffled the papers on his desk so that the sketch of the Dragon's Eye disappeared from view. Then, he stood up, gesturing over to an umbrella stand in the corner, which contained a large assortment of canes, sticks, and three-foot-long metal rulers. I feared for the worst.

“Choose one,” he said simply.

I went over to the umbrella stand with a heavy heart and carefully chose the lightest-looking cane I could find. I presented it to Dr. Drake with a downcast expression.

“But that one's no good, Daniel,” cried Dr. Drake. “What? Did you think I was going to beat you? I don't go in for punishments of
that
sort, my boy. Instead, I have decided I cannot quite trust you at the moment and so I am going to keep you with me. You will be able to indulge your curiosity to the full. You are going to both see and learn a lot of things you have never even dreamt of. So you must choose a stick that will be useful for beating back thick undergrowth. You must take the notebook and pencil that I am going to give you and write
Daniel Cook's Dragonological Record Book
on the first page. And you must be up and ready to leave the house at five o'clock tomorrow morning.”

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