chapter 12

Becoming Masterful

Twig needed a more secluded spot to work, way out in the Woods, not on anyone’s main pathway. He chose a clearing under some alder saplings and used a small cart to secretly bring all his supplies and materials to his workspace under the alders.

“Now listen carefully, Char,” he said to the dragon. “I put the pieces in place, you melt the metal to hold them together, just like we’ve practiced before, okay?”

Char looked at Twig and blinked. His tongue flicked out. Twig smiled. “Let’s get warmed up.”

Twig touched a length of lead solder to the two pieces of scrap metal, while Char spit flame, melting the solder. The two pieces held perfectly. The soldering, though rough and sloppy-looking at first, was fairly professional by the time they had finished. It was neatly and evenly laid, not too much solder and not too little. Twig even added a flourish at the end, producing a small solder curlicue.

He looked proudly at the piece of metalwork.

“Char, we’re a team!” he announced. “If this is how we start off, imagine how good we’ll do after more practicing!” He gave Char a gentle stroke on his chin. A little puff of smoke came out of the dragon’s nostrils, and he closed his eyes in rapture.

Twig got back to work. He pushed and pulled a pewter sugar bowl into the middle of the clearing.

“Okay, Char. Here is your first real test. I want a nice, clean cut all around, straight and even. Now let’s see some flame!”

Twig patted Char on the neck, making coaxing sounds, and Char snorted, abruptly producing a blue-white flame that burst out and hit the pewter with a spitting sizzle.

“Whoa! Too much, Char,” Twig said. “Easy does it.”

Char seemed to sense Twig’s directions, and with another snort, a smaller, more directed flame shot from his throat.

“Good boy!” Twig smiled. With very slight shifts in pressure, he was able to control Char’s flame, both in strength and direction. “Good boy!” Twig said again, slowly, slowly turning the bowl as Char breathed his fire. A melted line separated the top of the bowl from the bottom, and in several minutes the top teetered away, landing in the dirt.

Twig examined the melted edge. It was perfectly smooth and even. “It sparkles!” he marveled. “So shiny . . . and glittery!” He looked at Char. “This would have taken me days to do. And it wouldn’t have looked so . . . special.” He gave the dragon a hug around his neck. “Thank you, Char.”

The success of the sliced sugar bowl excited Twig. Suddenly Master Metal Crafter didn’t seem so far-fetched.

They spent the rest of the afternoon at work, using a fancy metal fish fin handle for the gnomon of the sundial. Twig used old copper wire to hold it in place, and used the wire to create a pattern of bends and curls. The copper, newly melted, glistened shiny and bright. Twig cut more copper wire into tiny pieces, using smaller gauge. He bent them into numbers with flourishes and twists. Char’s intensely hot flame melted them into place.

The sundial face became a beautiful, copper-rich design that amazed and delighted Twig.

A damselfly landed on Char’s nose and sat there in the sun. Twig watched it for a moment, and then got an idea. He twisted thin silver wire into an insect motif, laying the pieces around the lip of the sundial platform. He then added tiny flecks of gold in the wings, pieces that he had found and accumulated from discarded electronics. The sundial, with its gold, silver, and copper burnished by Char’s intense blue-hot flame, and with Twig’s delicate artistic touch, was a thing of beauty.

Twig stood back, contented. Proud.

“Burdock won’t believe we did this!” he said. “Nobody will. Thank you, buddy. You . . . you inspire me!” He gave Char another squeeze, holding him tightly. Char rippled his scales, and puffs of gray smoke came out of his nostrils. Twig held the dragon’s face.

“You look tired, Char,” he said. “Let’s get you back home. You need some rest after all that.”

Twig dragged several fern fronds over to the sundial, piling and arranging them until his new project was camouflaged and hidden from view.

“No one would ever know it was here,” he said to himself, pleased.

They set off through the Woods. Twig’s whiskers twitched with anticipation.

SHORTLY AFTER DAWN TWIG, WITH LILY IN TOW, SCAMPERED through the Woods to the hidden clearing.

“What is going on?” Lily asked repeatedly. Even though slightly irritated at being summoned at an early hour, and then traipsing into the Woods, Lily was a bit excited; she knew Twig must have a good secret to share. They rounded a bend, and then Twig led her off the trail to the ferns. “Ready?” he asked, beaming.

“I’ve been ready for the last half hour,” Lily sighed.

“Okay! Presenting . . . my sundial project!” he squealed, pulling away several of the fronds to reveal the newly made sundial. Rays of sunlight filtered through the forest canopy, illuminating the sundial, the bright light hitting the polished metals. It glowed. Lily sat back onto the ground, eyes wide in amazement.

“Oh!” she gasped. She sniffed around the sundial, examining every inch, her whiskers quivering.

“But Twig . . . the detail . . . the craftsmanship. Did you make this? No offense.” Lily looked squarely at him. “Help from Char?”

“Char did help . . . a little,” Twig admitted.

Lily’s ears twitched and wiggled. “Twig, it’s awesome,” she gushed. “It’s sure to be the best in the class.”

“Thanks, Lily. We’ve got to get it back to school. You get one side, I’ll get the other.”

They heaved and lifted, getting the sundial safely tied onto the cart, and then headed through the Woods to the Hill. Several teachers were arriving for classes as were students with their projects. They all stared in awe as the cart was pushed into the school entrance courtyard. A crowd gathered, everyone guessing it was Lily’s sundial project.

“Nope,” she said. “Not me!” She gestured at Twig.

“Did you help him, Lily?” said Hyacinth, looking suspicious. “You know that is against the rules.”

“Nope. Didn’t lift a paw,” Lily replied.

Twig was beaming, his whiskers twitching with pride.

Everyone’s tone had changed.

“Hey . . . great job, Twig,” Anemone said.

“Yeah, Twig, good work,” commented Finch.

Just then Professor Burdock arrived. He looked slightly confused, seeing Twig standing next to a beautiful work of metal art. The sundial gleamed, almost magically. He padded up to the cart. His paw lightly touched the rim of the sundial, then glided along the glittering filigreed metals, tracing each curl and tendril, the wings of the metallic bee.

“Whose work is this?” he asked.

“It’s Twig’s,” Ivy answered.

Burdock looked at Twig, who nodded.

“Quite extraordinary,” the weasel murmured, with no attempt to hide his surprise. “Yes, quite extraordinary.”

Professor Amaranth and Professor Fern walked by the courtyard and saw the commotion.

“Oh, my!” cooed Professor Amaranth, a Master Glassblower. “Very nice welding. Very nice! Whose project is this?” She looked at Lily. “Yours?”

“It’s . . . it’s Twig’s,” Burdock answered reluctantly. “At least he says it’s his. Even and smooth, not too heavy, not too light. The soldering is just right. And the precious metals decorative work is a beautiful touch,” he said. “It glitters!”

“Thank you,” Twig said sheepishly.

Burdock glared at Twig. “And you . . . ahem . . . had no help with this project?” he queried.

Twig glanced around. “Um . . . no, sir.”

The Metal Craft teacher could not resist touching the smooth, shiny metal rim again.

Twig’s classmates looked at one another, amazed. Twig smiled whisker to whisker.