EarthFlight Two: Dragon's Quest, Page 2
Lily Ennis
early, although it was very kind of the snakes not to mention it.
Dragon was becoming weary hovering so long. It put a great strain on his wings. In a flash he imagined all the flutterbies landing on him and beating their delicate wings, supporting him in the air so he felt as light as one of Wabbit’s ideas.
Wabbit sensed a sinking feeling in her stomach as Dragon’s hovering suddenly gave way.
‘Mr. Snake,’ she said. ‘Do you think we could discuss your predicament over there?’
She pointed to an oasis in the sky. In reality it was an anomaly; a cloud held up by the tip of a prism that extended all the way down to much farther than she could see. She could see it was a prism by the bent colours of light that shot through it which was fortunate or it would be almost invisible but not quite.
They all looked to where Wabbit pointed. Dragon sighed happily. He loved oases; there was nearly always something someone had left behind in an oasis. Like the first time he took Wabbit to an oasis back on Earth. Oh, those early exciting days of having his first pilot. He smiled as he recalled that oasis. There was whirly music and twirly sugar cane and he took her up the big swirly rock candy mountain. She laughed as she slid down the white stripe and he slid down the yellow one. When she got to the bottom her beautiful nearly turquoise pixie dress was so sticky that everywhere she walked a trail of humming bees followed her. No other oasis had been quite like that one. It was unbelievable to Dragon that someone could leave a whole fairground in an oasis, but he was very pleased they had.
‘This hovering is very stressful for Dwagon,’ Wabbit continued. ‘We’d like to sit down.’
The snakes considered this and if they’d had a little more compassion they would have included the flutterbies in their cogitations, for just because the flutterbies could not speak on account of having no mouth parts did not mean they had nothing to contribute to the discussion. However, since the snakes and the flutterbies and in fact the apostrophe, which had not turned into anything, found themselves at the mercy of Dragon and Wabbit, they readily agreed.
Wabbit stood on her carpet saddle and beckoned the flutterbies. ‘Come with us you lovely creatures,’ she called. ‘Come and rest on Dwagon and we will take you to the oasis.’
The flutterbies fluttered all around them and Dragon quite liked the attention. Wabbit dug her heels into Dragon’s lizardy side and off they soared.
‘You snakes fly very well for snakes,’ Dragon remarked upon reaching the oasis. ‘Considering you’ve been noughts,’ he added.
Dragon gazed about him. This was a very sparse oasis. It was incredibly bright in here. He blinked before putting his sunglasses on.
‘Cool!’ said Wabbit, wishing she had some.
Wabbit had been doing some very difficult thinking as she piloted Dragon and the flutterbies to the oasis. She cleared her throat to make her announcement. This in itself was a most unusual state of affairs, for ordinarily she spoke without thinking at all.
‘I’ve been thinking!’ she announced with great aplomb. ‘The flutterbies would look splendid on Dwagon.’
She waved an arm ceremoniously in the air in the general direction of Dragon, who bashfully lowered his eyelids. ‘I’m sure you’ll all agree that no one wants to see these splendiferous flutterbies morph into hairy mosses. What travesty could be averted if these glorious creatures would allow themselves to forgo their destiny, if one could call it that, to prevent their agonising descent into reverse evolution, to grace the most beautiful, charming, worldly Dwagon that ever lived.’
A warm glow ran through Dragon as Wabbit’s words made him blush. A flurry of scarlet brightened his scales. The flutterbies, without conferring, unanimously took places upon Dragon and with a collective sigh opened their wings and formed a beautiful cloak over his lizardy scales.
Wabbit gasped. She had seen Dragon look appealing before, especially when he wore his kilt, but this was beyond expectation.
Wabbit slipped off her saddle and walked around Dragon gently tracing her fingers over his flutterby cloak.
The spectacled snake applauded and soon all the snakes were clapping. The flutterbies were saved.
‘This is a most agreeable outcome for the crosses, er I mean the flutterbies,’ said the spectacled snake. But, oh dear, what is to become of us?’
‘And the apostrophe,’ added Wabbit helpfully.
‘Of course,’ mumbled the spectacled snake, privately thinking to himself that no one cared for apostrophes these days; either they weren’t required anymore because words had become so lazy or they were overused so that meanings became nonsense. No, the spectacled snake thought smugly to himself, I shan’t worry about a silly apostrophe.
As Dragon was trying to catch his very fine reflection in the prism which made him look even slimmer than the flutterby made him look and as the apostrophe was trying to attach itself to its elf by chasing itself around in circles, there came a beating of hooves getting closer and closer, louder and louder.
Wabbit climbed aboard Dragon in case they needed to make a quick getaway and the snakes flew about them swishing through the air, darting this way and that.
Suddenly it struck Dragon that in some strange way they and he may be related. Their scales weren’t unlike his, they were very good fliers, quite intelligent and most compelling of all, they used to be something quite unrelated to snakes, exactly as he hadn’t always been a dragon. When Dragon was a boy he’d imagined fighting a dragon with a long pole and rescuing a beautiful maiden, because everyone knew that dragons kept a beautiful maiden in their top drawer to bring out and gaze upon after dinner. Now that he was a dragon, and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure how that happened, he was careful to avoid boys. He didn’t want to have to fight a boy to keep Wabbit and anyway, he was pretty sure Wabbit didn’t want to be ‘rescued’ by a boy. But just to be on the safe side boys were to be avoided at all cost.
The hooves pulled up outside the oasis. Dragon, Wabbit, the snakes and the apostrophe held their breath hoping the hooves would keep on by, until the snakes realised the hooves belonged to unicorns. Not only that but they were piloted by monkeys wearing shiny racing silks.
The spectacled snake couldn’t believe his eyes so he blinked rapidly, then coughed.
‘Are you from the Red Land?’ he asked the visitors.
‘Why yes. How did you know?’ exclaimed the lead monkey who held a carrot on a stick out the front of his unicorn.
‘We’re on our way there to be tails for monkeys,’ said the spectacled snake.
The unicorn whinnied then he laughed so hard he reared up on his back legs and the monkey fell off and bounced on the cloud floor.
‘Show them, monkey,’ said the unicorn. ‘Show them your tail.’
The monkey twirled and gathered his tail up and draped it across his body then flung it over his shoulder. He caressed it and tickled it across his face until he sneezed.
Wabbit gasped. ‘It’s a very beautiful tail, Mr. Monkey. Why would you want another tail made of Mr. Snake?’
‘I don’t,’ snapped the monkey.
Dragon placed his hands on his stomach and nodded wisely. ‘I think I know what’s happened here. I posit that the snakes spent so long in stasis as noughts that they overshot the Red Land portal in the parallel dimension mistaking it for the forgotten dimension, thus missing the ceremony where they should have hatched into snakes.’
Wabbit beamed. Trust Dragon to think such clever thinking!
‘That must be it,’ said the spectacled snake. ‘In actual fact we probably should have hatched ages ago.’
He removed his glasses and wiped his brow. ‘Oh dearie me. How much longer would we have sailed through the forgotten dimension as noughts if Mr. Dragon hadn’t sneezed?’
He shivered and replaced his glasses. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about.’
‘But what will you do now?’ asked Wabbit. ‘The monkeys have tails. She had a sudden thought and frowned, which as Dragon knew, meant the thought was about to
come. ‘How did you get tails?’
‘The sea horses gave them to us,’ the monkey explained. ‘They didn’t need them anymore because they upgraded to the integral tail model. A bit like Dragon’s tail.’
‘Or a sea horse tail,’ added Wabbit.
The snakes swirled around the cloud letting the prism light catch their lizard scales. Some formed noughts by putting the pointy end in their mouths and the other snakes sped through them then they would uncoil and dart off here and there.
The spectacled snake made himself into the shape of a question mark.
‘You have a question?’ asked Dragon.
‘How perceptive you are,’ he replied. ‘I was wondering what we should do now.’ He waved himself in the air. ‘Now that we don’t have jobs to go to.’
‘Can’t you just do as you are?’ asked Wabbit for she thought the snakes were having a jolly time lolling about not being noughts anymore.
The spectacled snake gazed upon Wabbit as if she was a flibberty gibbet. ‘A snake can’t just go about swirling in oases chasing his tail. No. One must have a purpose in life.’
Dragon looked at Wabbit to see if she understood. She did.
‘Of course,’ she said nodding her head vigorously. ‘Dwagon and I have a very important purpose. We are searching for Dwagon’s clan.’
‘Yes,’ Dragon agreed sagely. ‘You have the look of my clan about you.’ He smiled as he complimented the snakes on their natural beauty and pleasant disposition. ‘In
Dragon was becoming weary hovering so long. It put a great strain on his wings. In a flash he imagined all the flutterbies landing on him and beating their delicate wings, supporting him in the air so he felt as light as one of Wabbit’s ideas.
Wabbit sensed a sinking feeling in her stomach as Dragon’s hovering suddenly gave way.
‘Mr. Snake,’ she said. ‘Do you think we could discuss your predicament over there?’
She pointed to an oasis in the sky. In reality it was an anomaly; a cloud held up by the tip of a prism that extended all the way down to much farther than she could see. She could see it was a prism by the bent colours of light that shot through it which was fortunate or it would be almost invisible but not quite.
They all looked to where Wabbit pointed. Dragon sighed happily. He loved oases; there was nearly always something someone had left behind in an oasis. Like the first time he took Wabbit to an oasis back on Earth. Oh, those early exciting days of having his first pilot. He smiled as he recalled that oasis. There was whirly music and twirly sugar cane and he took her up the big swirly rock candy mountain. She laughed as she slid down the white stripe and he slid down the yellow one. When she got to the bottom her beautiful nearly turquoise pixie dress was so sticky that everywhere she walked a trail of humming bees followed her. No other oasis had been quite like that one. It was unbelievable to Dragon that someone could leave a whole fairground in an oasis, but he was very pleased they had.
‘This hovering is very stressful for Dwagon,’ Wabbit continued. ‘We’d like to sit down.’
The snakes considered this and if they’d had a little more compassion they would have included the flutterbies in their cogitations, for just because the flutterbies could not speak on account of having no mouth parts did not mean they had nothing to contribute to the discussion. However, since the snakes and the flutterbies and in fact the apostrophe, which had not turned into anything, found themselves at the mercy of Dragon and Wabbit, they readily agreed.
Wabbit stood on her carpet saddle and beckoned the flutterbies. ‘Come with us you lovely creatures,’ she called. ‘Come and rest on Dwagon and we will take you to the oasis.’
The flutterbies fluttered all around them and Dragon quite liked the attention. Wabbit dug her heels into Dragon’s lizardy side and off they soared.
‘You snakes fly very well for snakes,’ Dragon remarked upon reaching the oasis. ‘Considering you’ve been noughts,’ he added.
Dragon gazed about him. This was a very sparse oasis. It was incredibly bright in here. He blinked before putting his sunglasses on.
‘Cool!’ said Wabbit, wishing she had some.
Wabbit had been doing some very difficult thinking as she piloted Dragon and the flutterbies to the oasis. She cleared her throat to make her announcement. This in itself was a most unusual state of affairs, for ordinarily she spoke without thinking at all.
‘I’ve been thinking!’ she announced with great aplomb. ‘The flutterbies would look splendid on Dwagon.’
She waved an arm ceremoniously in the air in the general direction of Dragon, who bashfully lowered his eyelids. ‘I’m sure you’ll all agree that no one wants to see these splendiferous flutterbies morph into hairy mosses. What travesty could be averted if these glorious creatures would allow themselves to forgo their destiny, if one could call it that, to prevent their agonising descent into reverse evolution, to grace the most beautiful, charming, worldly Dwagon that ever lived.’
A warm glow ran through Dragon as Wabbit’s words made him blush. A flurry of scarlet brightened his scales. The flutterbies, without conferring, unanimously took places upon Dragon and with a collective sigh opened their wings and formed a beautiful cloak over his lizardy scales.
Wabbit gasped. She had seen Dragon look appealing before, especially when he wore his kilt, but this was beyond expectation.
Wabbit slipped off her saddle and walked around Dragon gently tracing her fingers over his flutterby cloak.
The spectacled snake applauded and soon all the snakes were clapping. The flutterbies were saved.
‘This is a most agreeable outcome for the crosses, er I mean the flutterbies,’ said the spectacled snake. But, oh dear, what is to become of us?’
‘And the apostrophe,’ added Wabbit helpfully.
‘Of course,’ mumbled the spectacled snake, privately thinking to himself that no one cared for apostrophes these days; either they weren’t required anymore because words had become so lazy or they were overused so that meanings became nonsense. No, the spectacled snake thought smugly to himself, I shan’t worry about a silly apostrophe.
As Dragon was trying to catch his very fine reflection in the prism which made him look even slimmer than the flutterby made him look and as the apostrophe was trying to attach itself to its elf by chasing itself around in circles, there came a beating of hooves getting closer and closer, louder and louder.
Wabbit climbed aboard Dragon in case they needed to make a quick getaway and the snakes flew about them swishing through the air, darting this way and that.
Suddenly it struck Dragon that in some strange way they and he may be related. Their scales weren’t unlike his, they were very good fliers, quite intelligent and most compelling of all, they used to be something quite unrelated to snakes, exactly as he hadn’t always been a dragon. When Dragon was a boy he’d imagined fighting a dragon with a long pole and rescuing a beautiful maiden, because everyone knew that dragons kept a beautiful maiden in their top drawer to bring out and gaze upon after dinner. Now that he was a dragon, and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure how that happened, he was careful to avoid boys. He didn’t want to have to fight a boy to keep Wabbit and anyway, he was pretty sure Wabbit didn’t want to be ‘rescued’ by a boy. But just to be on the safe side boys were to be avoided at all cost.
The hooves pulled up outside the oasis. Dragon, Wabbit, the snakes and the apostrophe held their breath hoping the hooves would keep on by, until the snakes realised the hooves belonged to unicorns. Not only that but they were piloted by monkeys wearing shiny racing silks.
The spectacled snake couldn’t believe his eyes so he blinked rapidly, then coughed.
‘Are you from the Red Land?’ he asked the visitors.
‘Why yes. How did you know?’ exclaimed the lead monkey who held a carrot on a stick out the front of his unicorn.
‘We’re on our way there to be tails for monkeys,’ said the spectacled snake.
The unicorn whinnied then he laughed so hard he reared up on his back legs and the monkey fell off and bounced on the cloud floor.
‘Show them, monkey,’ said the unicorn. ‘Show them your tail.’
The monkey twirled and gathered his tail up and draped it across his body then flung it over his shoulder. He caressed it and tickled it across his face until he sneezed.
Wabbit gasped. ‘It’s a very beautiful tail, Mr. Monkey. Why would you want another tail made of Mr. Snake?’
‘I don’t,’ snapped the monkey.
Dragon placed his hands on his stomach and nodded wisely. ‘I think I know what’s happened here. I posit that the snakes spent so long in stasis as noughts that they overshot the Red Land portal in the parallel dimension mistaking it for the forgotten dimension, thus missing the ceremony where they should have hatched into snakes.’
Wabbit beamed. Trust Dragon to think such clever thinking!
‘That must be it,’ said the spectacled snake. ‘In actual fact we probably should have hatched ages ago.’
He removed his glasses and wiped his brow. ‘Oh dearie me. How much longer would we have sailed through the forgotten dimension as noughts if Mr. Dragon hadn’t sneezed?’
He shivered and replaced his glasses. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about.’
‘But what will you do now?’ asked Wabbit. ‘The monkeys have tails. She had a sudden thought and frowned, which as Dragon knew, meant the thought was about to
come. ‘How did you get tails?’
‘The sea horses gave them to us,’ the monkey explained. ‘They didn’t need them anymore because they upgraded to the integral tail model. A bit like Dragon’s tail.’
‘Or a sea horse tail,’ added Wabbit.
The snakes swirled around the cloud letting the prism light catch their lizard scales. Some formed noughts by putting the pointy end in their mouths and the other snakes sped through them then they would uncoil and dart off here and there.
The spectacled snake made himself into the shape of a question mark.
‘You have a question?’ asked Dragon.
‘How perceptive you are,’ he replied. ‘I was wondering what we should do now.’ He waved himself in the air. ‘Now that we don’t have jobs to go to.’
‘Can’t you just do as you are?’ asked Wabbit for she thought the snakes were having a jolly time lolling about not being noughts anymore.
The spectacled snake gazed upon Wabbit as if she was a flibberty gibbet. ‘A snake can’t just go about swirling in oases chasing his tail. No. One must have a purpose in life.’
Dragon looked at Wabbit to see if she understood. She did.
‘Of course,’ she said nodding her head vigorously. ‘Dwagon and I have a very important purpose. We are searching for Dwagon’s clan.’
‘Yes,’ Dragon agreed sagely. ‘You have the look of my clan about you.’ He smiled as he complimented the snakes on their natural beauty and pleasant disposition. ‘In
