Dragon Gold Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  About Shoo Rayner

  Advertisement

  Copyright

  Dragon Gold

  Dragon Gold

  Shoo Rayner

  Chapter One

  Woah! Is that you, Harri?’ Megan called across the street. ‘How did you get your eyeball to fall out like that?’

  Considering it was 8.30 in the morning and there were three days until Halloween, there were a lot of ghosts, mummies, zombies and witches walking down the street on their way to school.

  Harri smiled happily under his zombie mask, though you would never know it from the hideous green and purple make-up that made his face look like he’d been dead for a couple of years.

  Yes! thought Harri. All my hard work has paid off. I’m going to win the Dressing-up Day competition, no question.

  Harri had been working on his costume all week. He’d made a papier-mâché mask and used long strings of matted wool for hair. His eyeball, which seemed to dangle out of its socket, was made from a ping-pong ball. It was brilliant.

  Mrs Ellis in the charity shop next door had helped him find some really old clothes. He’d ripped them up and covered them in blobs of red paint. Old lace-up boots, far too big for him, finished off the whole look. They made him walk in that slow, clumsy way that zombies are meant to.

  ‘Oh Harri, you look amazing!’ said his friend, Ben. All the kids gathered around him in the playground ooh-ing and aah-ing. Everyone agreed his was the best costume and Harri was definitely going to win the competition.

  Then, in the distance, they heard a car engine revving up. They all knew who it was. Ryan’s dad had a huge, black Range Rover Evoque – you know, one that looks like a cat that’s about to pounce. It had darkened windows so you couldn’t see in.

  Ryan could easily walk to school in the morning. He lived only half a mile down the road. But no, his dad had to drive him in that enormous car. Every day Mr Sayer, the crossing patrol man, would leap into the road and make him wait. While Mr Sayer helped a gaggle of infants across the road, Ryan’s dad would rev the car impatiently.

  Normally he’d let Ryan out, turn round in the pub car park and drive noisily back home again.

  But today he turned into the school gates and parked in the middle of the playground.

  ‘OMG!’ Megan shrieked. ‘Everyone knows you’re not allowed to do that! If Mrs Yates sees, Ryan will be for it … and so will his dad!’

  Sometimes it seemed that Mrs Yates, the Head Teacher, had nothing to do other than battle against naughty parents who didn’t do what they were told.

  Loudspeakers had been tied onto the car’s roof rack. With a crackle and a hum, they came to life. Scary music filled the playground.

  ‘That’s Carmina Burana,’ Jack said. ‘They use that music in loads of horror films.’ Jack was dressed as Dracula. He was obsessed with old horror films. This was his second favourite day of the year. Halloween came first. He could win Mastermind with horror films as his specialist subject.

  A football rolled towards the car. No one bothered to chase after it. Everyone stopped doing what they were doing and watched. Even the mums and teachers were mesmerised. They stood, glued to the ground, staring open-mouthed, as Ryan’s dad slowly climbed out of the car.

  He wore a black suit with a black pork pie hat, black leather gloves and wrap-around dark sunglasses.

  Acting like a chauffeur, he swaggered to the back door and opened it a crack. Smoke oozed out from the edges of the door. It crept down the side of the car and swept across the playground.

  The music boomed louder as the tempo increased. The voices on the music sounded like they were singing in the burning fires of hell.

  Ryan’s dad swung the door wide open. Lights flashed inside making the smoke change colours. It looked like the burning fires of hell were actually inside the car!

  Ryan’s dad had a tiny microphone headset. He was a DJ, when he could be bothered, so he had all the equipment. He pressed a switch near his ear and spoke in a deep, cheesy American accent.

  ‘Behold!’ His voice boomed across the playground from the loud speakers. ‘Behold! The Angel of Death!’

  ‘O … M … G …!’ Megan shrieked.

  The Angel of Death emerged from the back seat of the Range Rover. It was easily over two metres high and its wings stretched out at least two metres on either side.

  It had no face. The hood on the ragged black cloak was empty. No head!

  A stream of smoke poured out of the void where its head should have been. Megan screamed.

  As Ryan’s dad drove off and the music faded away, the Angel of Death walked slowly over to the group of children that had been admiring Harri’s costume. It walked in a ghostly, ethereal manner. The dark emptiness of its hood glared down at them.

  ‘OMG!’ Megan whispered. ‘It’s like something out of Doctor Who!’

  From the depths of nowhere a strange, electronic voice spoke.

  ‘Nice costume Harri! What do you think of mine?’

  ‘Ryan? Is that you?’

  Slowly, the cloth lifted to reveal Ryan’s freckled face, looking out of a dark, see-through window sewn in the chest of his suit.

  ‘OMG!’ said Megan. ‘That is the most amazing costume I’ve ever seen in all my life.’

  ‘Dad helped a bit,’ said Ryan, lifting up the wafty skirts of his cloak to show the high-tech stilts he had strapped to his legs to make him look taller, and the can of smoke effect that blew out of the empty hood on top of his head. His wings stretched out wide on sticks that were strapped to Ryan’s hands. The whole effect was amazing.

  ‘Doesn’t he look great, Harri?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Yeah, great!’ Harri growled.

  He’s going to win again, thought Harri. Or rather his dad is going to win again!

  In a town close by, an old lady got ready for her first meeting of the day. She wore a long green velvet cloak held together at the neck with a huge diamond-covered star. Her pointed hat was a little bit crumpled.

  Anyone watching her might think it looked like a witch’s hat. But no one was watching her. She had a way of making herself almost invisible. In fact, if you noticed her, you would be surprised by the way people walked right past her as if she wasn’t there.

  Her meeting was at a shop called The Crystal Cave. She reached for the door handle and whispered words of courage to herself.

  ‘Blow your nose,

  Tap your shoes.

  Spit on your eyebrows –

  Nothing to lose.’

  The bell tinkled as she walked in and introduced herself.

  Ryan’s dad went home and got changed into jeans and a T-shirt. He made a cup of coffee and settled down to watch daytime TV with the paper and a packet of milk chocolate digestive biscuits.

  * * *

  ‘Well, children! Don’t you all look amazing?’ Mrs Yates beamed from the front of the school hall. There were zombies, vampires and monsters of every description. Aliens from a multitude of planets and primping, pink princesses sat in rows before her. Princesses?

  Harri was a serious dresser-up. What did princesses have to do with Halloween? he thought. It was always the same girls too. Whatever they were asked to dress up as, they always put on the bridesmaid’s dress they wore to their auntie’s wedding and came as princesses.

  No one tried as hard as he did to make a great and original costume. So many kids got their outfits ready-made from the supermarket, wher
e they hung in rows with all the other Halloween stuff.

  And then there was Ryan, brooding over them all at the back of the hall. Ryan had to lean against the gym equipment so he didn’t fall over. He couldn’t sit on the floor like everyone else.

  ‘We have a special visitor with us today,’ said Mrs Yates, who could hardly contain her excitement. ‘Mrs Eileen Spelltravers is a famous children’s author. She writes the very successful Happy Witch stories and she is going to read one for us today. Isn’t that exciting, children?’

  Mrs Yates explained how Mrs Spelltravers had written 23 Happy Witch stories which were famous all over the world.

  ‘Now, I want you all to give Mrs Spelltravers a big, warm school welcome.’

  The children cheered and clapped as the two women shook hands. Mrs Yates sat down in her chair and smiled as if she was going to burst with happiness.

  ‘Good Morning, children!’ said the very smiley Mrs Spelltravers.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Smelltravers. Good morning

  ev-ree-one,’ came the reply.

  ‘This is the Happy Witch,’ Miss Spelltravers warbled, holding up a copy of her book. The Happy Witch wore a long green velvet cloak held together at the neck with huge diamond-covered star. Her pointed witch’s hat was a bit crumpled.

  Mrs Spelltravers read the story. Harri loved stories, but he thought the Happy Witch didn’t really do a lot. The book was really for the tiddlers in reception.

  ‘Does anybody have any questions?’ Mrs Yates asked, when the story was over.

  Harri put his hand up. ‘Do you do the drawings? I thought they were really good.’

  Mrs Spelltravers smiled politely. ‘No, I just write the stories. My wonderful daughter, Jane, is the illustrator. She does all the pictures.’

  * * *

  ‘Goodbye, and thank you for your time,’ the old lady in the long green velvet cloak sighed as she closed the door of The Crystal Cave.

  ‘Where next?’ she asked herself, as she consulted her notebook.

  Anyone who noticed her there on the street would have said that she just sort of … disappeared. But as no one did notice her, it didn’t matter if she did or she didn’t.

  Ryan’s dad turned the TV volume down, folded the newspaper over his head and shut his eyes. He’d got up earlier than usual today. Ryan’s mum had an important meeting to get to and then there was Ryan’s big entrance at school. That was a lot of work.

  We’re going to win with that costume, no problem, he thought. A look of satisfaction crept over his face as he fell asleep.

  * * *

  Assembly was nearly over. Just one more thing – the most important thing – the most important thing of the last few weeks. The Dressing-up Day competition.

  Each year group paraded around the edge of the hall showing off their costumes, while Mr Davies’ iPod played Michael Jackson’s Thriller over the school’s music system.

  Some kids did a bit of bad acting, snarling and clumping about as if they were dead. The princesses floated along with dreamy far-away looks, imagining that one day a prince would come along on a big white horse and take them away from all this school nonsense.

  ‘I blame the Disney channel!’ Harri mumbled.

  ‘Mrs Spelltravers has graciously agreed to choose one winner from each year group and an overall winner too,’ Mrs Yates announced.

  It took forever to get round to Harri’s year. Harri turned on the full zombie works. He staggered and moaned and groaned. He clawed the air and rolled his remaining eyeball as if he had just woken up and crawled out of the grave. As he went past Mrs Spelltravers he shook his dangling eyeball vigorously and snarled at her, so she could see all the hard work he’d put into his costume.

  Mrs Spelltravers giggled and winked at Mrs Yates.

  Harri could hear Ryan close behind him. His stilted feet clumped on the wooden floor. His costume hissed as smoke spilled out of the empty hood. He could feel a cool wind on his back as Ryan flapped his enormous wings.

  ‘Oh! Ha ha! And who do we have here?’ Mrs Spelltravers laughed nervously.

  Ryan stopped and stood motionless. Slowly, really slowly, like he’d rehearsed it a hundred times, he turned his empty head towards Mrs Spelltravers. He held her gaze with his invisible eyes. Then, just when Mrs Spelltravers was starting to feel a little uncomfortable, he let a stream of smoke blast her way.

  ‘Oh!’ Mrs Spelltravers squeaked. ‘Oh, very good. Ha ha!’

  Harri knew the game was over. As Mrs Spelltravers gave out the prizes, it became obvious that she was one of those people who didn’t understand dressing-up. The winners she chose from each year were mostly wearing costumes bought from the supermarket.

  Anyone can do that, thought Harri. That’s not a proper costume.

  She even chose a princess!

  ‘Such a pretty frock, my dear,’ Mrs Spelltravers cooed, as she gave Chelsey Owen a signed copy of one of her books. ‘You must have been the prettiest bridesmaid of the year!’

  Chelsey sashayed back to her place on the hall floor and sat down like a pink, shiny, satin meringue, smiling as only a princess who’s kissed a frog can smile.

  And of course Ryan won his year group competition and… ‘And the overall winner of this year’s Dressing-up Day competition goes to … The Angel of Death, Ryan Williams!’ Mrs Yates announced.

  Mr Davies found the Darth Vader music on his iPod and everyone cheered and sang along as Ryan swept up the side of the hall to receive his prize.

  ‘Dum-dum-dum dum-di-dum dum-di-dum!’

  Mrs Spelltravers tried to shake his wing and gave him a signed boxed set of the Happy Witch stories and a goody bag of Happy Witch stuff including a T-shirt, DVD, magic sweets and a doll wearing a green cloak held together with a diamond star and a pointy, crumpled witch’s hat.

  Mrs Spelltravers looked up into the empty face of the Angel of Death. ‘The T-shirt might be a bit small for you, dear,’ she joked. ‘But the books are collector’s editions. Now don’t go selling them on eBay,’ she giggled.

  Ryan remained silent and mysterious. He bowed graciously with his enormous wings, accepted his prize and blew smoke right into Mrs Spelltravers’ face. She spluttered and nearly fell over backwards.

  ‘Thank you Ryan, and well done!’ Mrs Yates smiled through gritted teeth.

  Mrs Spelltravers had now succumbed to a loud coughing fit. Mrs Yates took a firm grip of her arm and guided her out of the hall.

  ‘Come along, Eileen. I think you deserve a nice cup of coffee in the staff room,’ she said.

  Harri could hardly believe it. It was so obvious Ryan hadn’t made his own costume. Any fool could tell it was his dad who’d made it.

  It wasn’t about the prize. It was never about the prize. It was about winning fair and square. Anyway, who wanted to win a stupid Happy Witch doll and books?

  Life was so unfair. Ryan won every competition going, or rather his dad did. That’s all Ryan’s dad cared about. Making sure that Ryan won all the school competitions and that he got top marks for his homework. Ryan’s dad was really good at homework!

  Ryan’s dad slept peacefully. There would be no homework over half-term. He could relax for a bit before he packed up the Range Rover. They were off to the airport tonight for a week’s holiday in their cottage in France. Lovely!

  * * *

  ‘Well done Ryan!’ Mr Davies boomed, as he walked into class. There’d been an early break after assembly. Everyone’s costumes looked a little tired from running around the playground. Ryan’s costume was so cumbersome, he’d taken it off.

  The cloak, hood and wings hung over the book cupboard door. The stilts leaned against the wall, looking like legs that had fallen off a robot.

  ‘Your dad did a wonderful job with your Angel of Death costume,’ Mr Davies said with a sarcastic tone in his voice. Harri rejoiced for a moment. Mr Davies understood. He knew that the winner of a dressing-up competition should be the person who made the best costume by themselves.

/>   Then he spoiled it. ‘How did you do the smoke effect?’ he asked earnestly. ‘That was amazing!’

  Mr Davies was truly interested as Ryan showed him the can of smoke and how it was connected to a tube at the back of the hood.

  ‘And this is the electronic voice-changing unit that makes my voice sound like a Dalek,’ Ryan explained.

  Mr Davies secretly admired Ryan’s dad and the ingenious skill he showed when ‘helping’ Ryan with his homework projects.

  There was nothing Harri could do. But he was determined to get even somehow – one day.

  Chapter Two

  The rivalry had been going on since reception year, when Harri and Ryan were first put together in the same class.

  You name it, Ryan’s dad had won or done everything.

  In infants, Ryan had been Joseph in the school nativity play. Ryan’s dad had got a real donkey. When Ryan led Mary down the hall to the stable at the inn, the donkey lifted its tail and pooed all over the Mayor’s shoes. The audience loved it! Ryan bowed and took his applause. His dad videoed the whole thing, they got £250 when they sent it to You’ve Been Framed and it was shown on TV. You can see it on YouTube. It’s had millions of views.

  Ryan’s dad was Ryan’s personal football, tennis, swimming and running coach. He helped out with sport’s day and somehow Ryan always managed to win everything. Ryan was the school football captain too, even though he wasn’t the best player.

  Ryan’s dad did the school discos, so Ryan always won the best dancer competition.

  Ryan’s dad made the scenery and effects for the school plays. Maybe Ryan didn’t get the lead role, but he always got the best part. He was an alien once, with moving tentacles and flashing lights. He totally stole the show.

  He was just one of the gangster’s mob in Bugsy Malone, but his dad made him a gun that fired marshmallows into the audience. That was a real hit.

  Whatever Ryan did, his dad made sure he did it better than anyone else.

  However sorry for himself Harri felt, he was beyond getting cross about it. There was just no point. The most annoying thing about Ryan was that he was a really nice guy. Not a best friend, but a friend. And his dad was good fun too. He was full of jokes, always had good ideas and was really generous. Ryan’s birthday parties were the best and everyone got invited.