The Dragon in the Bookshop by Ewa Jozefkowicz

Author:Ewa Jozefkowicz [Jozefkowicz, Ewa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781801109185
Publisher: Head of Zeus

11

I was scared that I wouldn’t wake up. I could really have done with my watch with its inbuilt alarm. Maya had told me that the trumpet call was on the hour, every hour, even through the night. Apparently between nine in the evening and seven in the morning it wasn’t quite so loud, and it certainly hadn’t woken me yet.

I pulled the green book out and sat in bed, poring over it. The candlelight cast dancing shadows over the walls of my attic room as I stroked the cover, recalling the legends that Dad had told me. They still seemed so magical and far-fetched, yet here I was. For ages, I didn’t dare open the book, worrying that nothing would have changed and that there would only be blank pages staring back at me.

Eventually, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and whispered, ‘Give us another clue.’

On the first page, I immediately saw that there was more text and the beautiful embellished picture of the dragon which I remembered so well. He was drawn in vivid reds and golds. He was standing by the entrance to his cave, next to a cartload of food. I wasn’t sure whether my memory was deceiving me, but I felt that there was something slightly different about him. I parked this niggling thought and decided to return to it later. The story stopped just before the moment in which Skuba was due to enter the scene, but there wasn’t anything unusual about it.

Eventually, I shut the book and watched the candle burn out, still thinking about the picture of the dragon. When I felt myself growing tired, I tried to count the seconds and minutes until the trumpeter made his call.

But I must have fallen asleep, because I woke to the sound of the trumpet. It was dark outside and I guessed that it must be four o’clock, the time I’d agreed to meet Maya by the front door. It was as if my brain had somehow known when to rouse me.

I grabbed the fleece overcoat Teresa had given me, and my shoes, and quietly opened the window, listening for Teresa’s steady snores. Somewhere below me the lock creaked. Maya. She appeared holding two candles, both of which cast surprisingly bright flames. She put one on the lower window sill and held the other aloft, putting her finger to her lips.

I climbed on to the window ledge and got into a crouching position. The hours spent with Dad scaling rocks around the coast had come in useful at last. I lowered myself on to the ledge below where Maya’s candle stood and jumped on to the cobbles. I was surprised at how easy it was.

‘Good luck,’ said Maya, pulling me into a hug. ‘I’ll be listening out for you when you get back.’

‘I won’t take any risks,’ I promised, as I set off down the street.

It was the middle of spring, but I felt chilled to the bone. The sky had been full of stars, and now they were dissolving in the morning light.

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