Dragon White Read online

  Contents

  About Shoo Rayner

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Dragon Red

  Copyright

  Shoo Rayner

  Shoo began his career as an illustrator in a garden shed near Machynlleth. He drew for Michael Morpurgo and Rose Impey, but people kept encouraging him to write. Many years and more than 175 books later, Shoo has built a worldwide following for his award-winning how-to-draw videos on YouTube. http://www.shoorayner.com/

  Shoo lives in the Forest of Dean with his wife and three cats.

  Shoo’s first book about Harri and Tân, Dragon Gold, was highly commended by the Tir na n’Og award 2015.

  Dragon White

  Shoo Rayner

  Chapter One

  ‘Hey, Ryan! Look at this one!’ Harri waved an enormous purple-brown, wriggling, squirming, slimy worm in front of his friend’s face.

  ‘Eugh!’ Ryan recoiled in horror. ‘I don’t know how you can touch them!’

  ‘They’re Tân’s favourite,’ Harri laughed, lifting the lid of a plastic tub and adding the worm to the writhing collection he’d already dug out of the compost heap at the bottom of the garden.

  ‘If Tân is going to behave himself today, we’re going to need some treats to keep him happy.’

  A butterfly flitted lazily through the air and landed on the garden path. It spread its wings out to catch the warm, spring sunshine.

  Whoosh! A bright red dragon swooped down from the gable end of the shed. Its fierce eyes focussed on the butterfly like laser beams. Its flashing claws unsheathed just as the insect escaped into the air.

  The dragon hit the ground hard. It rolled over two or three times and came to a stop, upside down, tangled in a prickly shrub.

  Pulling itself free, the little dragon shook his head and shrugged its wings as if nothing had happened. A wave of motion rippled down its long, snake-like body. Then it flapped its wings and flew back to its perch on the roof of the shed to keep watch on its back garden territory.

  ‘He’s amazing!’ sighed Ryan. ‘He’s so funny, he’s like a little puppy! You’re so lucky, Harri. I wish I had a dragon of my own.’

  ‘Be careful what you wish for!’ said a voice behind them. An old lady stood at the back door. ‘Dragons are quite a handful, aren’t they, Harri?’ Her eyes twinkled.

  Imelda Spelltravers had been living at Harri’s since Tân hatched from the egg she’d given him. Harri felt like she’d been living with them for years. He was starting to think of her as another granny.

  Harri held up his gloved hand and clicked his tongue. Tân glided over to him and buried his head in the palm of the glove, looking for the worm he knew would be there. Tân tossed his head back, swallowed the worm whole, and flicked his tongue around his lips in appreciation.

  ‘He might be a handful,’ Harri smiled, tickling Tân under the chin, ‘but I wouldn’t be without him.’

  ‘Mr Davies will be here with his tribe of Ancient Britons soon,’ Imelda said. ‘You’d better get yourselves ready.’

  The two boys were dressed up as Ancient Britons, ready to play their part in the town’s May Day Parade.

  ‘Are you sure you know what to do with Tân?’ Imelda asked.

  ‘I’m sure.’ Harri nodded.

  ‘We don’t want anyone to know he’s a real dragon.’ The old lady furrowed her eyebrows. ‘They’ll want to put him in a zoo or do experiments on him.’

  ‘I’ll help Harri,’ Ryan said, earnestly.

  Imelda didn’t reply. She sucked her bottom lip and nodded slowly.

  Chapter Two

  Mr Davies wore a huge smile as he strode up the street, leading his tribe of hairy Ancient Britons from their encampment in the park. They were going to head the May Day Parade.

  Mr Davies had been elected Chief of the Wales and West Tribe of the Ancient Briton Re-enactment Society, who were better known as the Red Dragons. He was in charge at last.

  Mr Davies loved history. At weekends, he and his wife and two little children would dress up as Ancient Britons and live in a leaking tent, eating cold porridge and turnips.

  After dark, there’s not a lot for Ancient Britons to do but drink lots of mead, which is a kind of ancient beer made with honey.

  Then they get very merry and sing ancient songs while Mrs Davies plays ancient tunes on her ancient harp.

  Usually, at least one merry, hairy Red Dragon will trip over in the dark and break an arm or a leg. The hospital is quite used to bearded, hairy Ancient Britons with burns, broken bones or bleeding bits, arriving by ambulance on Saturday nights!

  Mr Davies was the only Red Dragon warrior without a beard. ‘Ho-ha!’ he ordered, waving his sword in the air. The tribe of bearded, hairy warriors came to a halt outside Merlin’s Cave — the shop where Harri lived with his mum and Imelda.

  The shop sold magic stuff — healing stones, tourist knick-knacks and bottles of water from St Gertrude’s Well. Since Imelda had been living with them, they had been selling her homemade love potions, cures and magic spells too. Business had never been so good.

  The little town of St Gertrude’s, where they lived, was celebrating the 1400th anniversary of the day that St Gertrude tripped and bashed her head against a rock. The rock had split in two. Crystal clear water had sprung from its heart and had flowed through the town ever since.

  Mr Davies and the Red Dragons were leading the carnival procession through the town down to the well. The well’s ancient church and buildings had become a tourist destination. People came from all over the world to see it.

  Harri and Ryan walked over and joined the tribe.

  ‘Hail, Harri and Ryan!’ said Mr Davies.

  ‘Hail, sir!’ The boys chorused.

  ‘Don’t call me sir,’ Mr Davies whispered. ‘Call me Chief when we’re in the Red Dragons.’

  ‘Yes, sir — I mean Chief!’ Harri stammered. As his form teacher at school, Harri had always called Mr Davies ‘sir’. Calling him anything else didn’t feel right, almost like breaking school rules!

  Harri pressed the switch on a radio control unit. A red light flashed on. He looked at Mr Davies and raised his eyebrow as if to say, ‘Now?’

  Mr Davies nodded. His eyes were alight with excitement. Wait until the Red Dragons saw this!

  Ryan carried a box with flames painted on it. As Ryan opened the lid, Harri pulled out a long, thin aerial and pointed it in Ryan’s direction. The small, flame-patterned flag at the end of the aerial fluttered in the warm breeze.

  ‘Up!’ Harri ordered, pointing the aerial towards the sky.

  Ryan’s box shook and quivered. The tribe gasped as Tân rose gracefully into the sky.

  ‘Oh!’ Mr Davies frowned. ‘It’s bigger than I remember.’ Did he know? Had he worked out that Tân had grown since he last saw him at the school competition?

  Mr Davies shrugged his shoulders, and pointed down the street, calling, ‘Forward the Red Dragons! On to
St Gertrude’s Well!’

  A forest of flags and banners were hoist up above the mob of Ancient Britons. Each bore the emblem of a red dragon.

  The Red Dragons held their hairy, bearded heads high and shook their flashing swords at the sky.

  ‘Ho-ha!’ They shouted in one voice. The Red Dragons had a flying red dragon leading them today. None of them suspected that is was real and not a radio-controlled toy!

  Chapter Three

  Ryan’s dad was bored. There was nothing to do. Ryan’s mum was at an IT conference in Las Vegas and Ryan was out with Harri being an Ancient Briton. He’d made a great costume for Ryan, but as there wasn’t a best costume prize he wasn’t interested in going to the parade. History wasn’t really his thing.

  You’d never catch Ryan’s dad sleeping in a leaky tent, eating porridge and turnips, drinking mead with hairy beardy types — not when he could lounge on the sofa, drinking coffee and eating chocolate digestives.

  He’d finished Ryan’s homework and cleaned the house, so there was nothing to do but watch TV until the grand prix started.

  There was nothing worth watching. Flicking through the channels just brought up endless cookery and antique shows.

  ‘What the…!’ He sat up straight and turned up the sound.

  ‘…which happened fourteen hundred years ago this very day,’ the cheerful programme presenter said. ‘Ever since then, the healing waters have flowed from the Holy Well of St Gertrude’s, so today the townspeople have come together to celebrate this historic occasion.’

  The programme was coming live from the market cross in St Gertrude’s. The townspeople were dressed up in all sorts of funny clothes. The TV reporter dived into the crowd, pointing the microphone at two grubby urchins.

  ‘And tell me how you are celebrating today, boys?’ she asked.

  One urchin carried a flame-painted box, the other was pointing a remote control unit up to the sky. A flame-painted flag fluttered on the end of the aerial.

  ‘We’re flying our remote control dragon to lead the Ancient Britons on the May Day Parade,’ one of the boys said, nervously.

  ‘That’s Harri!’ Ryan’s dad hissed. ‘And that’s Ryan next to him … on TV!’

  Mr Davies pushed into the picture. ‘It’s a practice run, see?’ he explained to the TV presenter. ‘We’re the Red Dragons and we’ll be coming back in August to re-enact the Battle of St Gertrude’s. That’s when the Ancient Britons, under the flag of the red dragon, beat the Saxons back across the border into England.’

  ‘Ha, ha!’ the presenter laughed, ducking as Tân swooped down to attack the hairy microphone. ‘Make sure you have that in your diary, folks. Sounds like it’s going to be lots of fun!’

  Ryan’s dad flicked the TV off, put on his coat, put his keys in his pocket and marched off to town. Ryan had said he and Harri were going to dress up for the May Day parade, but he’d definitely not said anything about dragons!

  Chapter Four

  Once in a while, when Tân looked like he was getting a little bit too excited, Harri pointed the aerial at the box that Ryan was carrying and called, ‘Down!’

  Tân was well trained. He knew he’d get a nice, juicy worm once he was safely back in the box.

  He’d explained to Mr Davies that he was changing batteries, but he was really calming Tân down and reminding him to fly just above the little army of Red Dragons and not do anything too fancy, that might draw attention and make people wonder how a radio-controlled model could look so real.

  How had he ever let Mr Davies talk him into this? Someone was bound to realise that Tân was a real, live, fire-breathing dragon.

  Fire-breathing? That got Harri thinking, Oh no! Harri had awful visions of Tân setting fire to people’s hats and all the flags, that were strung between the lamp posts in the street, bursting into flame! ‘Don’t do the fire-breathing!’ he whispered into the box. ‘Not here! We haven’t got a licence!’

  Chapter Five

  ‘I’d like to see you after class, Harri,’ Mr Davies had said one day. ‘I need to talk to you about your dragon.’

  Harri was convinced that Mr Davies had found out that Tân was a real dragon and not a radio-controlled model.

  It had all started when Mr Davies had set the class a creative challenge. He’d offered a bag of Dragon Gold for anyone who could make a dragon fly for more than ten seconds.

  Ryan always won the school competitions — or rather his dad did. Ryan’s dad did everything for his son. This time he’d made a model of a Chinese J-20 Mighty Dragon Stealth Fighter Aircraft for Ryan to fly in the competition.

  As Harri and Ryan both flew their dragons for more than ten seconds, they were joint winners. Harri was thrilled. It was the first time he had won anything. Even coming equal first seemed amazing. And it didn’t even matter that the bag of Dragon Gold was only chocolate money — he’d won!

  But Harri had sort of cheated. Imelda had used magic to turn his dragon drawing into a real dragon … but making a model plane was kind of cheating too, wasn’t it? It wasn’t the kind of dragon Mr Davies had had in mind.

  ‘You know I dress up as an Ancient Briton at the weekends, Harri?’ he asked.

  Harri rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh. ‘Er, yes, sir.’

  ‘We-e-ell,’ he continued. ‘My tribe of Ancient Britons are called the Red Dragons, see? I was telling everyone about your wonderful dragon the other day, and we wondered if you might fly it as our emblem at the May Day Parade?’

  ‘Phee-e-e-w!’ Harri breathed a sigh of relief. Was that all? Then, moments later, fear clutched at him. Blood rushed to his head and the floor seemed to go a bit wobbly. He wouldn’t be able to hide the fact that Tân was a real dragon, not if the whole town was watching.

  ‘Er-er-er,’ he stammered, desperately trying to think of an excuse. ‘Er … it’s broken, sir!’ was all he could say.

  ‘That’s no problem.’ Mr Davies smiled. ‘There are lots of very clever people in the Red Dragons. We can help you to fix it. It would look wonderful to have our group of warriors being lead by a flying dragon!’

  Mr Davies’ eyes glazed over as he imagined himself, the new Chief, leading his little army with a red dragon flying above them.

  ‘Er-er-er…’ Harri’s mind had gone into brain freeze mode. Why couldn’t he think of a good reason to say no? ‘Thank you, sir.’ It was like someone else had said it.

  Harri left the room with Mr Davies staring into the distance, imagining the glories that waited for him and the Red Dragons on May Day.

  Harri could hardly sleep that night. If some great, hairy, bearded Ancient Briton came to try and fix Tân, he was going to find out that Tân was real and didn’t need fixing at all.

  Maybe he could train Tân well enough to behave himself at the parade?

  The next day, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, Harri told Mr Davies he’d mended his dragon and it was flying again.

  ‘That’s wonderful news!’ Mr Davies cheered. ‘The May Day Parade is going to be fantastic! Thank you, Harri.’

  And Mr Davies had been right. The crowds cheered as they marched past, waving their swords and banners, singing Ancient British marching songs, led by their dragon emblem flying high and proud above them.

  Chapter Six

  Everyone pointed and marvelled at the dragon that swooped, soared and spiralled in the carnival atmosphere.

  ‘It looks so real!’ they shouted.

  ‘It’s amazingly lifelike!’ called others.

  ‘There’s no way Harri could build that on his own,’ muttered one person in the crowd.

  Ryan’s dad pushed and squeezed through the throng of people that lined St Gertrude’s High Street. He narrowed his eyes, and watched the dragon, analysing every tiny movement that it made.

  It was uncanny. Not only did the dragon look incredibly real but Harri was controlling it like a pro. It took real skill to fly a radio-controlled model like that.

  Over the din of singing Britons and the b
rass bands that following behind in the parade, Ryan’s dad heard Harri shout an order.

  ‘Down!’ Harri pointed his aerial at the box that Ryan was carrying. The dragon descended elegantly and landed inside.

  What followed next happened so quickly, you might not have noticed, but Ryan’s dad did. Looking the other way, trying not to draw attention to himself, Harri peeled open the top of his remote control unit, like it was a plastic sandwich box and took out a wriggly, stringy worm!

  Something poked out of the flamed-painted box … a mouth?

  The something took the worm between its teeth, tossed it into the air, caught it and snapped its teeth shut.

  Ryan’s dad stood frozen to the spot, his mouth hanging open, gawping like a fish.

  ‘It’s real!’ he whispered to himself.

  The light on Harri’s radio-control box flickered and switched off. Harri hadn’t noticed. He pointed the aerial towards the sky and called, ‘Up!’

  The dragon flapped its wings and rose into the air again. The crowd cheered and jostled, but Ryan’s dad was lost, deep in thought, unaware of the noise around him.

  ‘It’s real!’ he whispered again. ‘It’s blooming well real!’

  ‘It certainly looks like it,’ said the man next to him, who was carrying a small child on his shoulders.

  Ryan’s dad shook his head. The noise rushed in, filling his ears again as he came back to reality.

  He noticed an old lady on the other side of the street. An old lady dressed up in a pointy hat and a green cloak. She was watching him.

  Their eyes met and locked together.

  No one else noticed the old lady in the pointy hat and the green cloak. She had a way of making herself invisible. Not invisible so that you could see right through her, just invisible so that you didn’t pay her any attention. It was even easier for her with everyone else being dressed up.

  She was keeping an eye on Harri and Tân, making sure that Tân didn’t give himself away.