Dragons in Snow. Judy Hayman

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Dragons in Snow - Judy Hayman


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bit of her was drooping miserably: wings, ears, tail, talons. Two tears slithered down her scales and dripped down her neck. Even her spikes felt limp. She couldn’t even manage a final wave as the tiny flying shapes of her friends disappeared into the distance on their way south for the winter.

      A silence fell.

      Down below, her Mum, Dad and younger brother Tom had been waving and shouting goodbye, while baby Lily bounced and huffed in excitement, not understanding what all the fuss was about. But now they all turned to look up at the sad heap of Emily, just visible in the gathering dusk. She didn’t want to talk to anybody. She pushed her way through the bracken doorway and buried herself as deep as she could into the pile of left-over heather on the floor.

      “Leave her alone for a while,” Gwen said to Tom, who was about to fly up to the branch. “She’ll cheer up! Why don’t you help us clear up the last bits of their camp and then we can go home.”

      “It looks clear enough to me,” said Tom, miserably. He wasn’t as upset as Emily, but he wasn’t looking forward to a winter without the excitements that Ollie and Des could provide.

      “We mustn’t leave any trace, remember?” said Duncan. “You never know when Humans might come snooping. You rough up that flattened grass with your tail while we pack up these things to store in the cave.” Tom set to work, while his father collected all the remaining firewood from the camp and tied a neat bundle with an ivy strand.

      When they had finished, there was still no sign of Emily.

      “You go on, and take Lily,” Gwen said. “Get the fire going and supper ready. It’s going to be a cold night.” She gathered the remaining heather from the beds in the camp and flew to the landing branch with it. She sighed sympathetically as she peered in at the quivering heap on the floor, and wondered how she could cheer her daughter up. It wasn’t going to be easy!

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      Buried in her heather, and still sobbing, Emily was remembering the last few weeks with Alice and Ollie. After the dramatic rescue of Ollie from the Humans’ cage, she and Alice, with Ollie and their Dads, had flown back home to a wonderful welcome. She pictured Tom as she had seen him dancing and cheering on top of Ben McIlwhinnie’s bald head when they flew in, and then Ellen hugging her son – who didn’t seem to mind, to Emily’s surprise – and Georgie and Lily getting under everybody’s claws. And how they took turns to tell the tale of the search and rescue and the help the Hawks and Owls had given, while they devoured the hot supper that had been waiting for them. And how proud she and Alice had been as their Dads told about the important parts they had played in the whole adventure. And how they all fell silent and huddled a little closer together round the fire as Ollie had told the story of how he had been captured and imprisoned. She still shuddered when she remembered that awful cage and the sight of a miserable and frightened Ollie inside it. It had taken seven of them to huff a hole in the wire big enough for him to escape.

      Then, ten days later, there had been the excitement of Des returning, as he had promised, to tell how he had escorted Old George and Aunt Angelica to her famous Castle, and had a good snoop round before making the journey back. “It’s a pretty good place she’s found,” he had reported. “OK, nearer to Human settlements, but well hidden. There’s a high fence all round, and pretty dense woodland. She’s got good stores of food and plenty of room.”

      So sadly everything had been decided. Ellen, Oliver and the children would fly south to spend the winter in the castle, and Des would go too, to show them the way, and perhaps to stay himself during the worst of the weather. He comforted Alice and Ollie with the thought that there was room enough for them to keep well out of Angie’s way, and even Ollie had to agree that it was the only thing to do. His adventure, when he had narrowly escaped a zoo, seemed to have made him a good deal more sensible, though both Alice and Emily wondered if it would last.

      But none of these memories helped Emily now. There had been two happy weeks before they left, the departure delayed by three days of high wind which had stripped the last of the leaves and warned of bad weather to come. The children had enjoyed the wind, laughing and tumbling in the air, playing complicated chasing games, but finally, yesterday, it had dropped. The air turned colder, and Des insisted it was time to go.

      As usual, they had set off in the gloaming to fly at night and hide by day, and now that they had gone, Emily had to face a lonely winter.

      Sniffing, she realised that her mother had come in quietly and was sitting on the floor beside her heap of heather.

      “I know, Emily, it’s hard for you and Tom! You’ve had a lovely summer, and a lot of excitement. But it won’t be as bad as you think. They’ve promised to come back in the spring. And Tom’s growing up. He was a lot more sensible while you were away looking for Ollie, even though he was disappointed not to go with you. He’ll miss Ollie and Alice as well. You’ll manage, with him, and Lily, and your books. Didn’t you swap one with Alice before she left? So that’s a new story you have! Come on, the supper will be burning.”

      Emily knew she couldn’t stay buried forever. Slowly she emerged, damp, miserable and covered in bits. Her mother smiled sympathetically. “Let’s go home,” she said, holding out a talon.

      Emily sighed deeply. “I suppose I am a bit hungry...” she admitted. They flew back to the cave together.

      Mum was right when she said that Tom was growing up, Emily thought, as she ate her crow and toadstool hotpot. In the past he would have laughed at her for crying, but this time he didn’t and after the hotpot was finished, he even offered her the last dried rosehip and helped to clear up without complaining. When they had finished, they sat for a while in the firelight, and the stars shone bright and clear. The moon was a thin crescent low on the horizon.

      “It’s a perfect night for their flight,” said Gwen, coming out after putting Lily to bed and speaking of their absent friends for the first time. “I hope they manage to find a good safe spot to hide during the day tomorrow.”

      “Des knows all the good places,” said Duncan. “They’ll be fine. He’ll find them a hidden spot where they can sleep. I wonder if he’ll stay with them all winter.”

      “Des never stays anywhere for long,” said Tom. “Perhaps he’ll come back here.”

      “No, he won’t do that. He knows we’ve only just enough space and food to keep the five of us going until the spring. What we must do now is make sure we’re ready for the winter ourselves. You two will have plenty to keep you occupied, don’t worry. Firewood and foraging tomorrow! No time to brood.”

      “OK,” said Tom, before Emily could reply. “Bags I do berries.”

      “No chance. You always eat as many as you save!” his Dad teased him.

      Emily began to feel better. Perhaps her mother was right about Tom. She heaved a deep sigh, her huff smoky in the cold air. “I think I’ll go to bed and read Alice’s book,” she said. “Come on, Tom, it’s getting cold out here.”

      Their parents smiled at each other as the young dragons disappeared.

      “They’ll be all right,” said Gwen.

      “And I reckon the others got away just in time,” said Duncan thoughtfully. “There’s going to be a frost tonight. Winter’s here!”

      “And earlier than usual! I think these last foraging days might be important, if our food’s to last. Emily and Tom have bigger appetites these days, and we used up such a lot of food when the others came for meals.”

      “It might be time to try that roots idea that Oliver told me about,” said Duncan thoughtfully as he banked up the fire with turf to keep it burning gently until morning.

      His wife snorted. “I don’t think a bit of digging will cheer the kids up. Better think of something more exciting if we’re to survive the winter!”

      


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