The Fire Within (The Last Dragon Chro) by Chris D'Lacey Read Free Book Online Page A

listen!”
    “Why did you stop me from telling him it was Conker?!”
    “Because he doesn’t like squirrels! It would only have made things worse!”
    “Wrong,” said a voice, “it’s already worse.” The kitchen door opened and Liz was part of the argument as well. “Would someone like to tell me
what
is going on? I don’t cook these meals for fun, you know. Your dinner is on the table. If it sits there much longer there’ll be frost on it!”
    “Mr. Bacon made a rat trap,” Lucy wailed. “But there
isn’t
a rat! He’s going to catch Conker! He’s going to kill him! And David
doesn’t care!”
She slapped the tenant in the chest, then pounded up the stairs, crying loudly.
    Liz folded her arms and glared at him, hard.
    “I can explain.”
    “Don’t bother, David. Put a baked potato in it instead.” She swept upstairs after Lucy.
    It was half an hour before Liz came down. By then, the kitchen was empty. The table was cleared, the dishwashing done, and two untouched meals put back in the oven on a very low heat.
    Taped to the breadbox, Liz found a message.
    Gone for a walk. Took bottles to the recycling bin. Bonnington threw up a hairball. I cleaned it up. Hope Lucy’s OK. It’s my fault. Sorry. Won’t happen again.
    David
     
     
    It was eight before he returned. Liz was in the kitchen, making a drink. “Long walk,” she said.
    The tenant hovered sheepishly in the hall.
    “David, hang your coat up, for goodness’ sake. If I wanted you out, you’d have found your teddy in pieces on the step.”
    David sighed with relief and slipped off his coat. There was a slight clacking sound as he put it on the hook.
    “What was that?”
    “Oh — my knee against the telephone stool. How’s Lucy?”
    The kettle clicked off. Liz filled a mug. “Fretting, as you might expect. Actually, you arrived home just in time.”
    The tenant furrowed his brow.
    Liz handed him the mug. “Hot chocolate, for her. Go and make a happy house again. Hmm?”
    “Who is it?” said a slightly surprised little voice.
    David took his knuckles away from the door. “It’s me. Can I come in?”
    A blanket rustled. “All right.”
    David stepped in. Lucy was sitting up in bed, wearing a pair of blue pajamas. Her eyes were red, her cheeks a little blotchy. David put the hot chocolate on her bedside table and sat down on the end of the bed.
    “Did you come to read me a story?” she sniffed.
    David shook his head. “Not tonight, Luce.”
    A few seconds passed. Lucy dabbed her nose with a tearstained tissue. “Conker’s in danger, isn’t he?”
    David glanced across the room. The eyes of Gawain stared rigidly back. In the pale yellow glow of the bedside lamp the dragon might well have had fire in its jaws.
    “I want to save him,” Lucy sniffed. “I don’t want Mr. Bacon to catch him in his trap.” Her bottom lip shuddered and she started to sob.
    David found another tissue and handed it over. “We are going to save him. I’ve got a plan.”
    Lucy looked up, her eyes like pools.
    “Promise me you won’t say a word to your mom?”
    Lucy swallowed hard and looked at Gawain. “What are we going to do?”
    David glanced away into the corner of the room. “I haven’t worked out all the details yet. A lot depends on whether I can find a good box or not.”
    Lucy’s mouth fell open slowly.
    “Yes,” said the tenant, guessing her thoughts. “If Henry can set a trap, so can we. We’re going to try to catch Conker ourselves….”

I N THE A TTIC
     
    T he next day, David got his box.
    “A rabbit hutch? Where?”
    “Up there,” hissed Lucy, pointing to a hatch in the landing ceiling. “You open that door and a ladder comes down. Mom shoves all our useless stuff up there.”
    David ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Your mom’ll turn me into useless stuff if she ever finds out I’ve been rummaging through your attic.”
    “We’ll get it down later when Mom’s not here. She’s going to a craft fair