Septimus had pulled off the blindfold and wondered if he was dreaming. Had he been saved by a mermaid? He’d sat on the beach, dazed, and watched as two mer-children, one with purple hair, the other with blue hair, had rescued all his hens.
The mermaid, who also had purple hair, had called to him.
“The tide is coming in. There are steps in the third cave on the right. They will take you to the top of the cliff.”
And with a flick of her tail she’d gone.
Septimus Plank counted his blessings and his hens. The baby sea dragon crawled out from under his hat and licked his face. Septimus decided that apart from being soaked, the baby sea dragon and the hens had suffered no ill effects. He set off up the shingle beach toward the cave that the mermaid had pointed out. The baby sea dragon sat on his shoulder and Septimus noticed that it had doubled in size since it had hatched. The hens and the cockerel followed, clucking quietly.
The cave was dark. Sticky-toffee dark. But the baby sea dragon’s eyes lit up like lamps and Septimus was able to see the steps. On and on and on they went, twisting and turning in the rock. It was a slow old journey. Septimus had to keep stopping to wait for the hens, as some of them were not as sprightly as they might have been. Finally, they were rewarded with sunshine.
Septimus recognized the lane he found himself on. It was the same lane that he and Captain Calico Kettle had taken to the town hall the night they’d stolen the sea dragon’s egg. He stopped by a tree, put the little sea dragon back under his pastry chef’s hat, and did his best to make himself look presentable. It was then he noticed, coming toward him, the same lovely lady he’d seen standing on the deck of the yacht. She was riding a small white pony and she looked as pretty as a picture, and as delicate as china cups. Septimus Plank was dumbstruck.
Princess Albee was surprised to find a handsome young man, only a little taller than she, walking down the lane, surrounded by hens.
“What are you doing, walking down the lane, surrounded by hens?” asked Princess Albee. “Why are your clothes wet?”
Septimus Plank knew he should remove his hat when addressing a lady. He whipped off his pastry chef’s hat, but before he could find his voice, the lovely lady said, “And why is there a baby sea dragon on your head?”