chapter 18

Char, Unleashed

In no time, Basil and his uncle arrived back at the clock tower, Burdock with a coil of rope in his paws. Lily steamed with anger.

“He’s just a baby!” she called out. “Don’t hurt him!”

Char lay tense and shaking in his corner. The dragon’s scales were grayish and pointing awkwardly from his body. The weasel and his nephew approached slowly.

Burdock eyed the dragon with awe, but suspiciously. “A dragon,” he said. “So they do exist. And you were using one so that you’d be Named.”

“Please!” Twig yelled. “Char isn’t well! Leave him alone!”

Burdock would have none of it. “Get back!” he barked. “I’ve got him. Basil, get over to that side. We’ll come from two directions. Take this end of the rope!”

But suddenly Burdock saw Twig’s masterpiece on one side of the room.

The delicately soldered workings, the balanced arms, the weights, the glistening hinges, and shiny orbs were all wired with copper, brass, silver, and iron. The seemingly nonsensical uselessness of it irritated Burdock. His eyes darted around the room until he saw what he needed. A hammer.

“So you’ve had help with your projects?” he barked. “This is what I think of your projects!”

“No!” Twig cried out.

Burdock grabbed the hammer and began striking at Twig’s project. Pieces of metal flew through the air. Gears and levers were mangled and bent.

Char snapped to attention with a snort. Using what little strength he had, he flapped toward Burdock, with wings vibrating and stretched out—lifting off the ground and flying for the first time. His eyes were once again flames of orange and yellow, his scales undulating, his tail flicking and twisting. The dragon opened its bright-pink mouth in a hiss. He let out a strange, growling, gurgling sound that surprised even Twig.

And then it happened.

The scales on Char’s neck stuck out, perpendicular to his body. His mouth opened wider, and he lowered his head close to the floor. He snorted again, and out came a flame that made his past fire breathing seem like a damp match. The entire room lit up with blue-white light as fire rushed out of the dragon with a roar. Lily shrieked, and Burdock yelped, backing away and dropping the hammer.

Then Char reared back again and sent another flame directly at Burdock, hitting him in the shoulder.

“AAH!” he screamed, wincing in pain, clutching at the burned patch. The smell of scorched fur filled the room.

Wings vibrating, Char came at Burdock again. The weasel backed away until he was cornered against the wall.

“Help!” Burdock screeched.

Char snorted fire again, but suddenly the flames had faded a bit and were a pale yellow. Twig could sense that the dragon was rapidly losing strength.

“Char! Stop!” Twig yelled.

The dragon turned and looked at Twig, then back at Burdock, defeated. Thick smoke curled out of his nostrils, gray-green, blue, and brown. Char was breathing in harsh bursts. His eyes seemed slightly sunken, his scales ashy and dull.

He had used up his last bit of energy and was now defenseless. He lay on the floor. Twig and Lily ran to the dragon; Lily cradled the creature’s head and neck in her lap.

Olive was rounding a bend in the path when she heard the loud burst of flame, and then Burdock’s scream. She raced into the clock tower to see Burdock panting and seething. He glared at Olive.

“Look what your son has been hiding from us!” he barked.

Olive saw Twig and Lily crouched around a . . . she wasn’t sure what it was, but she knew immediately which side she was on.

“A dragon?” she asked.

“You mean you knew about this?” Burdock asked incredulously.

Olive looked around the room. Although the chaos of the scene suggested the dragon was a menace, she sensed otherwise. She studied her son. Her eyes met his, and she felt in them the devotion Twig had for the dragon. She made a decision.

“Why, yes,” Olive answered. “Of course I knew.”

Burdock’s eyebrows arched up.

“You’re telling me that you and Twig had a dragon in your house?”

“Twig is quite devoted to him.”

“Devoted? He’s a menace to our community. He must be contained immediately.” He rubbed his singed shoulder. “He is dangerous!”

Olive glanced at Burdock’s raw patch of fur and could smell the burned hair. “The dragon did that?” she asked quietly, looking quickly at Twig. “He is really quite gentle, if you are gentle with him, that is.”

“Of course it was the dragon!”

A small group of residents had gathered outside, Beau among them. He hobbled up to the crowd, surveying the scene, and then saw Char, still collapsed in the corner. His watery eyes widened at the sight of the dragon, and he cast a look at Twig.

Burdock growled, glaring at Beau. “That beast nearly killed me. Look at this!” He thrust his shoulder at Twig. Where the fur had singed off, you could see the red and swollen burned skin, raw and oozing pus and blood. “A few inches’ difference and this could have been my face!”

“I—I—I’m sorry, Master Burdock,” Twig stammered. “Char is so protective of me, of the project . . . I guess he went a little crazy.”

“He needs to be locked up. And his fire-breathing abilities can be utilized, for the good of the Hill.”

“What do you mean?” asked Twig. “What are you going to do with him?”

“The dragon’s fire can be harnessed. . . . We can use it. Imagine what I—I mean, what the Hill—can create with this beast. He’s something the Hill can use.”

Twig’s heart raced, and he gulped with guilt. He thought of how he had used Char for his projects, and how Char had trusted in him and eagerly helped. Now it was his turn to come to Char’s rescue.

“We can take this whole matter before the Council if you like, Professor Burdock,” Beau said calmly. “But let’s not lose our tempers and—”

“Fine for you to say!” Burdock interjected. “You weren’t nearly roasted by this walking blowtorch. I’m using my authority as a Judiciary Committee member to imprison this beast before one more Hill member is harmed.”

Beau raised his paws. “He looks to me to be quite a creature.” He nodded at Twig. “And the boy certainly has at least some control over him. Do you really think he needs to be confined?”

“I can take full responsibility for him,” Olive suggested.

Twig looked gratefully at both his mother and Beau. Beau gave him a reassuring wink.

“I’m taking him away!” Burdock growled. He grabbed the rope and thrust it at Twig. “Tie this around him!” He winced and clutched his wounded shoulder. “I wouldn’t be surprised if a special meeting was called to decide if you should be expelled . . . permanently. I know that I am personally going to recommend just that.”

Twig glanced at Lily, who looked on the verge of tears, as Basil looped the rope around Char’s neck.

“And let’s not forget,” he snickered, his dark eyes staring into Twig, “how you lied and cheated to have this beast do all your work. No wonder your assignments were so much better than your classroom ones! You had help! Well, the Council and the rest of the Hill won’t stand for it. I wouldn’t be surprised if you are expelled on the spot. I’d start packing a bag if I were you. Come, Basil, help me get this creature locked up.”

Basil cautiously gave the rope a short tug. Char looked at Twig, perplexed, and didn’t budge.

Twig gave him a gentle pat. “It’s okay, Char. I’ll come to see you later.”

Burdock snorted. “The only time you’ll ever see him is when you visit the Burrow of Confinement. Olive . . . Lily . . . be ready for an inquest into your part in this,” the weasel added with a cold smile.

The dragon stood up, painfully, as Basil yanked him out the doorway.

Lily’s father had arrived, and he grabbed her by the paw and pulled her away. The rest of the gathered throng parted, gazing and gasping at the sight, as Burdock and Basil led Char toward the Burrow of Confinement.