chapter 8

A Hiding Place

Using the waning sun as his guide, Twig began to see familiar signs. He was getting close; the trees, the terrain, and the smells in the air were ones he recognized now. He rounded a large rock outcropping and saw the looming silhouette of the Yard in the distance.

He recognized a voice, some distance away. “Twig! Twig!”

“Lily?” he answered. “Over here!”

It had only been the best part of a day, but it was wonderful to hear a familiar voice, especially Lily’s.

“Twig!” he heard again, closer this time.

He quickly pulled the baby dragon behind a tree stump. “Stay still!” he whispered. The dragon looked at him, cocking his head.

Just then Lily came scurrying up through the mayapples and toothwort.

“Where have you been?” she demanded. “You’ve been gone all day!”

“Sit down here for a minute,” he said, leading Lily to the stump. He stood there for a moment and looked at her.

“All right, this is secret, right?” he said seriously. “No telling anyone, and I mean anyone!”

Lily’s ears perked up, and she nodded. “Not a soul.”

“This may be the most incredible, special thing you will ever see,” he said proudly. “This may be th—”

Lily gasped impatiently. “What is it?”

Beaming, Twig half pulled, half pushed the baby dragon out from behind the stump.

The dragon lifted its head. “GRRUUUUK!”

Lily hopped back. “Oh! Wow. That’s a—a—it’s a—” she whispered.

“It’s a dragon,” Twig said.

Lily held out her paw, and the dragon stretched out to sniff her. A snort of warm breath shot out.

“Ooh! He tickles!” she giggled. “Where did you find him?” The dragon’s tail looped and flicked.

“I found his egg, in the dirt. Then I . . .” And Twig was off, telling Lily the whole story.

Lily smiled. “Have you named him yet?” she asked, gently stroking the dragon’s snout and neck.

“He’ll have to earn a name like the rest of us,” Twig replied. “Something will come to us after he’s settled in.”

Lily choked. “Settled in?”

“He’s just hatched. I can’t abandon him.”

“So you have a plan?”

“I’m sure I can hide him for a while, until I can train him a little, or at least until he can get along on his own. I don’t want the rest of the Hill to know about him. I want to keep him as my secret.” Twig looked at Lily. “Our secret.”

Lily caressed the dragon’s scales. “Where can you hide a baby dragon?”

“I was thinking: Why not the wooden clock tower near my house? Nobody ever goes there. It’s empty. And I can lock him in so he can’t get out.”

Lily looked doubtful, but the dragon nuzzled her chin. “Well,” she relented. “That might work. We can take turns bringing in food and keeping him company.”

Twig smiled. “I notice you said ‘we.’”

“Of course I said ‘we.’ For one thing, he’s adorable. For another thing, he needs a home. And for another thing, you couldn’t do this by yourself. We’ll be his adoptive parents. Deal?”

“Deal!” replied Twig.

They set off through the mayapples toward the old clock tower, with the dragon trotting and flapping behind. The wooden tower was tilting and cloaked with weeds.

“It’s creepier than I remembered,” Lily said. The swollen door creaked as they brushed aside spiderwebs. Inside, centipedes slithered into piles of dusty dead leaves.

But after spending some time cleaning up a bit, and letting fresh air in, they gently coaxed the dragon into its new home.

Twig found a stick and used it to hold the latch together. The dragon clawed at the door.

Lily tried cooing and reassuring it. “Do you think we can leave him without any problems?” she asked.

“We may have to come up with a plan B.”

The two of them sat a little ways from the clock tower, listening to the dragon inside. They could tell it was anxious, pacing frantically around the inside of the dark space, making clicking and scraping noises. After a while the pacing stopped.

“I think he’s okay now,” Twig said. “We can check on him a little later.”

“And bring him food,” Lily remarked as they headed home. “Just your normal, everyday care of baby dragons.”

They parted ways. The evening shadows were falling rapidly; Twig had been away for only the day, but so much had happened.

Back at his burrow, Twig stepped into his kitchen. Olive’s elderberry pies had cooled.

A good ending to an eventful day.