Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Action & Adventure,
Juvenile Fiction,
Magic,
Fantasy & Magic,
Cousins,
Animals,
Dragons,
Body; Mind & Spirit,
Dragons; Unicorns & Mythical,
Magick Studies,
Proofs (Printing)
the barn from Miss Alodie’s house. Eventhough they were pretty sure that St. George wouldn’t be around during daylight hours, just to be on the safe side, they asked Emmy to wait until they were inside the barn before she transformed. Daisy slid the heavy barn door shut behind them, Jesse set down the backpack, and Emmy turned into a dragon.
“Please come here, Emmy,” said Daisy, going over to the Museum of Magic. “You’re the one with the dragon magic, so you try first. Is there anything here that looks useful … practical in a magical kind of way?”
Emmy shuffled up to the display, which was arranged across some old boards on top of two sawhorses.
“I like
this
one,” said Emmy, reaching out and taking up her favorite item, the crusty old metal ball about the size of a peach, and cradling it in her paws.
“The Sorcerer’s Sphere,” Jesse said in an encouraging tone.
“I like it a lot!” said Emmy brightly.
“We know you like it,” Daisy said patiently. “You always have. But what we want to know is … are we supposed to
use
it—against St. George and his minions?”
Emmy shut her eyes and then opened themquickly. She shook her head. “Not now. I am sorry, Daisy and Jesse. I am not a very practical dragon.”
Jesse pressed her gently. “You’re one hundred percent
certain
sure?”
Emmy nodded. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a beetle in my eye,” she said.
“It’s
needle
,” Jesse corrected. “Stick a needle in your eye.”
“Ouch,” said Emmy, flinching. “That would give me a very bad boo-boo, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it would,” said Daisy. “So maybe you’d better not be swearing it. Okay, now I guess it’s my turn to try.”
While Jesse and Emmy looked on anxiously, Daisy closed her eyes and held her hands out over their magical collection. She waved them slowly over the rocks and feathers and skulls and horseshoes and doorknobs, hoping to feel a tug in one direction or another, like on a Ouija board. After what seemed like a very long time, she opened her eyes and shook her head. “Guess I’m not very practical, either. You try, Jess.” She stood aside.
Instead of closing his eyes and doing the Ouija board routine, Jesse simply drifted around the table, looking at the items as he went, giving each one the full power of his concentration. He hadhomed in on the green crystal doorknob when something bumped him so hard, it knocked the breath clean out of him.
“Ouch!” he said, rubbing his shoulder and looking around with a frown. “Who did that?”
Daisy and Emmy both stared at him in amazement.
“Did you see that?!” Daisy asked.
“The shovel fell down on you,
crash-bang-boom
!” said Emmy, clapping her paws in amusement.
“It just … fell off the wall where it was hanging and hit you!” Daisy said. “Nobody even touched it! Look!”
Jesse looked down at the rusty old shovel lying at his feet. He looked up at the wall where a bunch of rusty old farm implements hung. They had never paid much attention to these tools. Sometimes they thought the tools might be magic, but most of the time they just figured they were old and maybe even a little dangerous.
Reaching down, Jesse picked up the shovel by its worn wooden handle. He cried out as the shovel jerked him forward with a violence that nearly dislocated his arm. It was as if someone, a mighty strong someone, were yanking the shovel for all he—or she or it—was worth.
“It’s pulling me!” he shouted to the others, feeling scared and happy at the same time. “What should I do?”
“Yikes!” said Daisy, dancing nervously in place. “Hang on tight, I guess. See where it takes you.”
Jesse held on to the handle with both hands as the shovel powered him out through the barn’s sliding door.
“Stay with me!” he hollered over his shoulder. “Please don’t let it run away with me!”
“You are a very brave boy, Jesse Tiger!” said Emmy. “Emmy Dragon loves you.”
“Daisy
Learning to Kill: Stories