Chapter Twenty-one

‘We need to learn more about dragons,’ Imelda told Harri one morning. ‘Not just to help with looking after Tân. We need to know more about dragons. I don’t know what is going on in Ryan’s dad’s mind.’

Harri and Imelda crossed the road to the library. He followed her up the stairs to the hushed sanctuary of the reference library. He’d never been up there before. Old books and boxes were piled on dark, carved wooden shelves. Large chests contained maps and documents. It smelled of old dust and wax polish.

The floor creaked loudly in the studious silence.

The mayor was sitting at a desk, surrounded by books and papers. He glanced up and smiled when he recognised Harri.

‘Hello!’ he whispered. ‘You’re the lad with the flying dragon, aren’t you?’

Did he know? Did he suspect?

‘Did you really make it all by yourself? You’re very clever, you know?’

Harri smiled and said nothing, in case he said something he shouldn’t.

‘Come and look at this,’ the mayor said, untying a green ribbon on some rolled-up parchment. ‘It’s very old. It’s part of the town archives but it’s written in a language I’ve never seen before.’

He spread out the document. ‘Here — you’ll like this little picture at the top.’

A boy and a woman stood in front of a castle holding hands. The woman held a jug from which water flowed into a stream. The boy’s hair shone with real gold leaf. A red dragon, with flaming nostrils, stood on the walls of the castle tower. All around the picture, strange, curling words were written in fading ink.

Harri reached out. As his fingers lightly touched the document, a spark, like an electric charge, shot up his arm, making him jump.

‘It’s Emrys!’ Harri whispered.

‘Emrys?’ the mayor sat up. ‘You mean, Merlin? What makes you say that?’

The mayor looked at Imelda. Her lips were moving as her eyes scanned the words of the document.

‘You can read it!’ he whispered.

Imelda held the mayor’s gaze a full ten seconds before she spoke. She decided she could trust him — they were going to need friends. The mayor was an honest historian, seeking truth in the past.

‘It’s written in the old language,’ she explained. ‘Harri’s right. That’s Emrys, or Merlin.’ She pointed at the boy in the painting. ‘And that is St Gertrude.’

‘Merlin and St Gertrude knew each other!’ The mayor gasped.

Harri could see it all in his head, like a movie playing before his eyes. He could feel the story reaching out across time, reaching out across hundreds of years … reaching out and claiming him!

‘When the Red Dragon killed the White Dragon,’ Harri began, ‘no one could control it, not even Emrys, for he was still a boy. The dragon went on the rampage, destroying everything in its path. Now it was free, it wanted to remain free. Eventually, the dragon came here, where St Gertrude met it and offered it a drink of water from her well. The mystical powers of the water tamed the dragon and Emrys gave it into her care.’

Imelda and the mayor listened to Harri, open-mouthed.

‘That’s exactly what’s written in the document.’ There was wonder in Imelda’s voice. ‘It also says that the king gave St Gertrude a special charter allowing her to keep a dragon in her tower.’

The mayor’s eyes were wide with excitement. ‘But that’s incredible!’ he gushed. ‘There are piles of old documents in the archives, imagine if we could prove the story was true!’ He winked at Harri. ‘Your mother would be pleased. I’m sure it would bring more tourists to the town and to her shop.’

Imelda smiled and brushed a golden curl from Harri’s eyes. Emrys has returned, she told herself for the second time.