The Dragon's Eye (17 page)

But as we waited, what should we see but the same cab pulling up outside the station doors? Whoever was inside must have guessed where we were going. We were just about to make ourselves scarce when a familiar voice cried, “Hang on! We've got something for you!”

It was Billy. He and Alicia came dashing out of the cab towards us, carrying a parcel. They looked almost as furtive as we did, and we all shook hands conspiratorially.

“I heard you were coming back to London,” said Billy. “Couldn't let you go without wishing you good luck. We spotted you just as we were turning into Wyvern Way, but you sprinted off.”

“We thought you might be Ignatius or someone,” said Beatrice.

“Not likely,” said Billy. “Anyway, we brought you something.”

He handed us the parcel.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Oh, you'll see,” he said. “Alicia managed to get it. I think she's taken all that stuff about girls being quick to heart. You've ruined her.”

But he was smiling.

Beatrice grinned, too. Alicia blushed, but looked pleased.

“Good for you,” said Beatrice. “We'll have to tell you about our adventures later.”

“They're not over yet,” I added. “And I hope you two don't get into trouble over this.”

“Oh,” said Alicia, “I'm afraid we will. But there is one more thing we can do for you.”

It was then that I noticed that rather a lot of policemen had suddenly come into the station.

“They are probably looking for you,” said Billy. “But Alicia has a plan. See you later.”

Billy winked, and he and Alicia then headed over to a policeman. Billy deliberately bumped into the policeman and said, “Oh no! Beatrice! Run!”

“Quick, Daniel!” cried Alicia.

Billy and Alicia then ran headlong out of the station and back to their cab, which took off at full speed. The policeman, clearly thinking that these must be the two children they were looking for, started after them, shouting, “It's those two children who are in cahoots with that Drake fellow! Stop them!”

Which was just as well. For as I turned round to look for Dr. Drake, I saw that another policeman had been on the very point of placing his hand on my shoulder.

Nearly everyone has heard of the famous train known as the
Flying Scotsman,
which leaves Platform 10 at King's Cross Station in London at ten o'clock every morning and travels from London to Edinburgh in ten and a half hours. It is nearly quicker than flying. However, Dr. Drake had said that the route onwards from Edinburgh to Inverness would have been too slow. He had therefore opted to travel by a more direct route, which led from Euston, where the train to Inverness leaves at five minutes to nine in the morning, stopping at Carlisle and Perth before arriving at its final destination at ten o'clock at night.

Dr. Drake arrived with our tickets and a trolley for our luggage. We walked along the platform until we came to our carriage, which was near the front of the train. Just as we were about to get on board, I noticed that the policemen had come out onto the platform.

“They must have caught up with Billy and Alicia,” said Beatrice. “I hope that they are all right.”

“They brought us this,” I said to Dr. Drake, pointing at the parcel.

“Ah,” he said. “I wondered where that had come from.”

Two policemen were beginning to walk along our platform.

“This is Uncle Algernon's doing,” said Beatrice. “They are looking for us.”

We quickly boarded the train just as the guard began blowing his whistle and the doors were slammed shut, leaving the policemen on the platform.

We found our seats and placed our luggage in the overhead racks as the train began to pull out of the station. Soon, it was chugging out of the smoky atmosphere of London and into the countryside.

Now that we could relax, we told Dr. Drake about Billy and Alicia.

“I wonder what's in the parcel,” I said.

“There's only one way to find out,” said Beatrice.

She tore it open. Inside was Dr. Drake's flameproof cloak.

“Excellent,” said Dr. Drake. “By the way, when we were at the S.A.S.D. headquarters, I just had time to pick up a couple of books for you both to help pass the time.”

He opened his case and took out two thick volumes.

“Remember,” he said, “while dragonology may seem very exciting, you will never get very far with it unless you have a grasp of quite a number of other sciences: physics, geography, chemistry, mythology. They are all useful fields of study for the budding dragonologist.”

He gave one book to each of us. Mine was an Elizabethan natural history book by a man named Edward Topsell. It was called
The History of Four-footed Beasts.
It was full of rather fantastical illustrations of all sorts of animals — both real ones and others that I had always considered imaginary. Dr. Drake told me to make notes on anything I found that was obviously incorrect. I thought this would keep me busy for quite a while, since just by thumbing through the pages, I saw plenty of things that seemed wrong, such as a story that giraffes were a sort of cross between camels and wild pigs and an idea that hippopotamuses — or hippopotami — were savage carnivores who love to eat meat even more than crocodiles do.

Beatrice's book was a guide to rearing tropical snakes and lizards from the egg. She didn't look quite as happy with her choice as I felt with mine, until Dr. Drake said that he wanted her to read it from the point of view of a person who has been given a dragon's egg to hatch.

“The information isn't exactly suitable for dragons, but it will get you thinking along the right lines,” he said.

By around seven o'clock, I grew tired of making notes about things that seemed incorrect in Edward Topsell's book and took to gazing out of the windows. We had left Perth and were speeding through the Scottish Highlands. There were lochs with ruined castles on their shores and mountains covered with purple heather. It was a beautiful summer's evening, and I could see for a long way.

I searched the horizon. In the distance, I saw what looked like an eagle swooping up over one of the mountains ahead. It hovered in the air, and I wondered what it was hunting. But as it came closer and closer, I realised that it wasn't an eagle at all. Its wings were too large, and they were ribbed like an umbrella. It had a long tail with an arrowhead at the end. It had four legs. Its huge horned head turned directly to look at the train. I gasped. It was a European dragon. It wasn't red, like Scorcher. Instead it was green and it was fully grown. It must have been about fifty feet long, and it was flying straight towards the train!

“Dr. Drake!” I cried, excitedly pointing out the dragon.

The creature was now nearly upon us, sweeping round towards the back of the train, almost as though it meant to attack it directly. It was a spectacular sight, but it made my heart pulsate with fear. The dragon swooped so low that its wing tips nearly touched the ground, then it slowed down, flying right alongside the train, its snaky bulk clearly visible through the carriage windows. I watched as it sniffed in great breaths of air and looked into each of the windows with its great eyes. Wisps of smoke streamed back from its nostrils as it flew.

“It's looking for someone!” cried Dr. Drake.

Beatrice and I looked at him in amazement.

“I am a dolt!” he exclaimed. “Ignatius must have sent it after the train in order to attack us!”

“Duck!” he cried as the dragon approached our carriage. But just at that moment, someone must have pulled the emergency handle. The brakes began screeching and the dragon disappeared behind us as we tumbled over and over. When we got up again, the train had stopped and I saw Dr. Drake grab the flameproof cloak.

“Stay here!” he commanded. “And stay down!”

He disappeared.

I went over to the door to close it behind him but I could not resist looking out to see where either Dr. Drake or the dragon had gone.

Suddenly I found myself being pushed back by the same ruffians who had attacked us in Cornwall.

“Help!” I cried. “Leave us alone!”

“Got you!” cried one of the men as he sprang into the carriage and grabbed hold of Beatrice.

I kicked the other man in the shins, and he let me go, but only for long enough to let me see that he was still carrying his pistol. Then the two villains dragged us off the train and marched us across a patch of grass towards a road. A moment later, a black carriage appeared. There was a crate lashed to the back. The two men bundled us inside, and we found ourselves facing Ignatius Crook, who was absentmindedly stroking Flitz and gazing intently at something out the window. Next to him sat the same pale-skinned woman in the black cape and riding boots that I had seen in St. Leonard's Forest. Flitz turned and hissed at us like a cat, his forked tongue flicking in and out as he watched us.

“Let go of us!” shouted Beatrice, trying to move as far away from Flitz as possible.

Ignatius turned to look at us. His white face and teeth were thrown into relief by the gloom of the carriage interior. He tapped on the floor with his dragon-headed cane, and the carriage set off along the road.

“I'm so glad you could make the show,” he said. “It is a tragedy, of course. You are just in time for the climax.”

He pulled down the carriage window and gestured towards the train with his cane. Most of the passengers seemed to be either cowering in the carriages or running away in various directions. But there was one figure who was standing right near the front of the train, standing stock still and waving his hands high in the air, trying to attract the dragon's attention. It was Dr. Drake. But if he was trying to distract the dragon's attention away from the other passengers, he did not seem to be having much luck, as it was still flying up and down the train. Suddenly the dragon spotted him. It turned and, jetting out a huge spout of flame, bore straight down on him.

Both Beatrice and I shouted frantically, but it was no good. Dr. Drake managed to duck the first jet of flame the dragon blew at him, but then it landed right in front of him, and knocked him flying with a blow from a gigantic claw. As Dr. Drake struggled to his feet, the dragon reached its head back, took in a deep breath, and blew another enormous jet of flame at him. We watched the angry dragon blow blast after blast of searing fire over him until the carriage turned a corner and we could see no more.

Ignatius Crook pushed up the window of the carriage.

“An appropriate end, don't you think?” he said. “For a man who infects even children with his nonsense about conserving and protecting dragons?”

Beatrice and I were too stunned to reply. Ignatius continued.

“No doubt you are aware that I had hoped poor Ernest's end would come sooner rather than later, but needs must.”

“You're a monster!” I shouted angrily.

Flitz looked up expectantly, but Ignatius ignored him.

“Oh, I'm worse than that,” said Ignatius with a sneer.