Читать книгу The Fairytale Trilogy - Valerie Gribben - Страница 13

Marianne realized that they had landed when she felt the absence of wind on her face. Opening her eyes, she had to squint against the breaking dawn. All around her, shafts of morning sunlight defeated the fleeing night. Robin slept next to her, his mouth half open and his eyes contently closed. Stretching and yawning, she jumped off the dragon’s back. “My compliments to the captain for not letting me fall off during my slumber,” Marianne said as she stroked the dragon’s head.

“You know, some dragons think of petting as a degrading insult and would strike,” said the dragon, opening one eye lazily as Marianne pulled her hand back with a small “Eek.” “Fortunately, you don’t have one of those dragons,” he continued, rolling over to expose an underbelly as large as a cottage. Behind him, Marianne heard a muffled cry.

“Robin!” called out Marianne, rushing behind the dragon. “Are you all right?” she asked, propping up her dazed brother.

“I certainly wish you’d awaken me the next time our ride starts performing gymnastics,” he said, a hand on his forehead.

“My apologies, good sir,” said the dragon, “but in my weary state, I forgot to check for the Extra.”

“Extra!” fumed Robin indignantly. “What’s Marianne, if I’m the ‘Extra’?”

“Marianne is the Holder. She is the one who controls me, and you are the one I could grind with my foot if I felt so inclined,” replied the dragon in a factual tone.

“Oh,” gasped Marianne, a look of alarm on her face. Yet after thinking for a second, she added, “But I really wouldn’t want you to squash Robin.”

“Thanks a lot, Marianne. Why did we stop, anyway?” asked Robin, rubbing his eyes, apparently not wanting to hear anymore about his probable demise.

“I got tired. You can’t possibly expect me to have loads of energy after being cramped up in a glass ball for years and then flying Marianne and an Extra hundreds and hundreds of miles,” said the dragon, huffily.

Robin swelled up, getting ready to reply when Marianne cut in with, “What’s your name?”

“My name, fair lady, is whatever you want it to be,” replied the dragon kindly.

“Why don’t you have a name?” inquired Marianne.

“Because I exist to carry out the Holder’s every whim, and the Holder may not like my name,” said the dragon, with a flick of his tail.

“Ah,” said Marianne, biting her lower lip, “Well, what would you like to be called?”

“Why don’t you call him ‘Stupid?’” suggested Robin helpfully.

“Because then she would have to rename you ‘Charred,’ for that is what you would be,” retorted the dragon, blowing smoke out of his nostrils. “As long as you do not follow in the footsteps of my previous Holder and name me Pickles, I shall be contented with whatever you choose.”

“Pretentious paperweight,” Robin muttered, which prompted Marianne to say “Robin!” in a disapproving tone. “How would you like to be named ‘Leopold,’ and I could call you ‘Leo’ for short because you’re as brave as a lion?” Marianne finally asked.

The dragon glowed, his massive chest swelling with pride. “I would relish that very much indeed,” said Leo. He yawned, exposing his daggers of teeth. Robin grimaced, but the next moment Leo transformed himself back into the harmless dragonfly poised in his sphere, which rolled noiselessly at Marianne’s feet.