The Girl with the Dragon Heart Read online

  Whereas I …

  I swallowed hard. ‘How did you know that we would both be coming here?’

  I’d closed the door behind me to give my family their privacy, but I couldn’t seem to move any further into the room.

  It had been all very well to grandly tell the crown princess that I already had a home when I was flush with confidence and success up there in the gallery. But now that I was here …

  I knew no one could take a safe home for granted. I’d spent the last six years learning that lesson; how could I have forgotten it even for a moment?

  Horst frowned at me in what looked like confusion. ‘Where else would the two of you come once it was all sorted out? We set off earlier to hunt you down when things first went wrong, but when we woke up and realised someone must have broken the spell …’

  ‘Well, who else could it have been? You think the royals or their fancy-cloaked mages could have managed it? Pah.’ Marina finally turned around to look at me. ‘At least you haven’t got yourself hurt this time. That’s a mercy.’ She shook her head as she turned back to the stove. ‘But if there ever was a girl who could learn to stand still from time to time …’

  ‘I think – I might be ready to try.’ Taking a deep breath, I looked at her strong, solid back and felt my mind go utterly blank. Where had all of my clever words gone? I’d been telling stories all night to fairies and goblins and royals, but now that I was back with the people whose opinions really mattered, my tongue and my head both felt thick and clumsy. ‘I mean, I thought I might … if you don’t mind …’

  ‘She turned down the crown princess’s job offer,’ Aventurine said flatly. Then she rolled her eyes at me over her shoulder. ‘That is what you’re trying to spit out, isn’t it?’

  ‘You did what?’ Blinking, Horst sank back down into his seat. ‘But, Silke, I thought you wanted –’

  ‘I …’ I closed my eyes, so I wouldn’t have to see their faces. My words came out in a mangled, graceless rush: ‘I-told-them-I-already-had-a-home!’

  My whole body strained backwards towards the doorway as I spoke, preparing to spin away as quickly as possible the moment that yet another piece of solid ground went sliding out from under my feet.

  It would be all right. I knew how to start over. I –

  Marina’s snort was so loud, it made my eyes fly open. ‘It took you long enough to realise it! Good lord.’ She turned to Horst. ‘Best waitress in the city, clever like you wouldn’t believe and there isn’t a customer alive who can resist her stories about our chocolate. How long have we been trying to pin her down now? Months!’

  ‘You … have?’ Shaking my head, I looked at Horst for confirmation.

  His smile warmed me like the best hot chocolate. ‘Well, of course we have,’ he said gently. ‘Why do you think we didn’t hire another waitress when you left? Or hire a second waitress in the first place, when you would only agree to work part-time?’

  ‘But …’ I looked back at Marina. ‘I know you didn’t want to come to the palace for this visit. If it hadn’t been for me –’

  ‘If it hadn’t been for you, we would have closed down months ago, as you’re the only one in this shop with a real head for business.’ She narrowed her eyes at me. ‘Did you think we hadn’t noticed that? Or that we couldn’t have wriggled out of this palace invitation if we’d wanted to?’ Marina shrugged. ‘We weren’t about to let you march into danger without us. Once we’d found you, girl, why on earth would we ever want to let you go?’

  My throat thickened. I couldn’t hold her gaze. As my eyes misted, I ducked my head down quickly. My gaze landed on the table …

  … Where I saw that Horst had set out four places, not just three, for tonight.

  It was true that the walls of the Chocolate Heart might one day close, if the business went under. Unlike the palace, that small shop hadn’t been designed to last for centuries – and even the mighty palace walls had broken tonight. No building could last forever. But the home that Marina and Horst had offered me ever since we’d first met – that warm, safe spot where I never had to be anyone but myself to win their approval …

  That could never be taken from me after all. And it was worth so much more than any royal court.

  ‘Here.’ Marina filled one of the delicate porcelain cups and held it out to me. ‘You’d better be the one who tries this new blend first. Tell me what you think.’

  ‘Me?’ I let out a half-laugh of disbelief as I accepted the steaming cup and sat down at the table. The new blend of hot chocolate smelt incredible, of course, but I hesitated with my arm still held out towards Marina. ‘I’m not the chocolate expert here, you know.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Aventurine said from the stove. ‘I can already tell you what to say just from smelling it: there isn’t enough chilli in this one.’

  ‘Not enough for you, dragon-girl!’ Marina gave her a light tap on her shoulder, lips twitching indulgently. ‘But I designed this particular blend for someone who doesn’t breathe fire. She deserves her own drink, too, don’t you think?’

  The thin gold-and-white cup warmed my hands through its silver casing. My head whirled. The smell of chocolate filled my senses. I closed my eyes, took a breath and lifted the cup to take a long, deep sip.

  Ravishing sweetness filled my mouth, replete with flavours I didn’t know how to name. It tasted like warm spices and adventures, winter and hope – and love, a rich chocolate centre to it all.

  For once, I couldn’t speak. I felt too full – full of gratitude, full of happiness, full of everything.

  ‘Well?’ Horst said. ‘It’s yours, you know. Marina’s been fiddling with it for weeks, trying to get it just right, but I liked it from the beginning. What do you think? Shall we put it on the menu when we get back home?’

  I had cried enough tonight to flood a barge. So I told myself, with all my might, that I wouldn’t cry again. But as I opened my eyes, I found that I didn’t want to.

  As spicy-sweet chocolate filled my belly with warmth, I felt a brand new story spinning out from beneath my feet, carrying me in directions I had never let myself dream about before. Now that I’d finally found my own home and safety …

  If my handbills could be read and passed around the continent, why shouldn’t I use them to help everyone I cared about – the dragons, my family and friends on the riverbank, and my Chocolate Heart family, too?

  I would tell my own story with all of my heart, until everyone in my city felt it in their hearts, too … and then, together, we would remake the world.

  ‘I love it,’ I said. ‘And I am going to write the best handbills about it. Just you wait and see what I can do!’

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  This is a book that requires a lot of heartfelt thanks to all of the people who made it possible. First and foremost, I am so grateful to my editor, Ellen Holgate, for her smart, compassionate and incisive edits, which made this story so much stronger. I may have occasionally cried and cursed as I struggled through my rewrites, but I am sincerely glad now to have done them. Thank you for holding me to high standards and having steadfast faith that I could achieve them!

  As always, my husband, Patrick Samphire, gave me endless support along the way, patiently rereading draft after draft, keeping me well stocked in my favourite chocolate, and talking me through every single crisis in confidence. Patrick, I will never be able to bake you enough chocolate-chip cookies to properly express my gratitude! But I will keep on making them anyway (and only stealing some of them).

  Claire and Philip Fayers gave me a retreat exactly when I most needed it, letting me hole up in their lovely home for several days, lending me soft, sweet cats to pet, and feeding me delicious meals and gourmet tea to fuel me through my rewrites. Later, my parents, Richard and Kathy Burgis, did heroic amounts of babysitting to give me time to work, and my brother David Burgis was a wonderful sounding board as I worked out plot issues. I appreciate all of you so much!

  Thank you to the brave frie
nds who beta-read first-draft chapters of the book and cheered me on as I wrote them: Jenn Reese, R.J. Anderson, Deva Fagan, Rene Sears, Beth Bernobich, Tricia Sullivan, Patrick Samphire and Tiffany Trent. And thank you to the friends who critiqued part or all of this novel at any stage: Tiffany Trent, Jenn Reese, Patrick Samphire, Tina Connolly, Deva Fagan, Rene Sears, R.J. Anderson, Aliette de Bodard, Anne Nesbet and Jaime Lee Moyer.

  Thank you to my wonderful agent, Molly Ker Hawn, for reassuring me just when I needed it most, and for being the best possible partner in my publishing career. I feel so lucky to be your client! And thank you to Sarah Shumway for finding just the right title for the book when I was at the point of total despair about it.

  Thank you to Emma Bradshaw, Grace Whooley, Charlotte Armstrong and Lizz Skelly for all of the amazing marketing and publicity support that you’ve given to both of my books with Bloomsbury. I appreciate you guys so much!

  Thank you to Lucy Mackay-Sim for the thoughtful line edits, which made such a difference. Thanks to Helen Vick for beautifully managing the final editorial stages, thank you to Madeleine Stevens for the wonderful copy-edits, and thank you to Fliss Stevens for carefully overseeing the final proof stages. This book is about finding a real community, and I’ve been so happy to be a part of the lovely Bloomsbury community!

  And most of all, thank you to my wonderful sons, who have brought me back to storytelling out loud, who tell me fabulous stories of their own, and who inspire me every single day.

  CHAPTER 1

  I can’t say I ever wondered what it felt like to be human. But then, my grandfather Grenat always said, ‘It’s safer not to talk to your food,’ – and as every dragon knows, humans are the most dangerous kind of meal there is.

  Of course, as a young dragon, all I ever saw of them were their jewels and their books. The jewels were delightful, but their books were just maddening. What a waste of ink! No matter how hard I squinted, I could never make it past the first few paragraphs of cramped, crabby text. The last time I tried, I got so frustrated I burned three of those books to cinders with angry puffs of my breath.

  ‘Don’t you have any higher feelings?’ my brother demanded, when he saw what I’d done. Jasper wanted to be a philosopher, so he always tried to stay calm, but his tail began to lash dangerously, sending gold coins showering through our cavern as he glared at the smoking pile before me. ‘Just think,’ he told me. ‘Every one of those books was written by a creature whose brain was half the size of one of your forefeet. And yet, apparently, even they have more patience than you!’

  ‘Oh, really?’ I loved goading high-minded Jasper into losing his temper … and now that I’d laid waste to my tiny paper enemies, I was ready for fun. So I braced myself, scales rippling with secret delight, and said, ‘Well, I think anyone who wants to spend his time reading ant scribbles must have an ant-sized brain himself.’

  ‘Arrrrgh!’

  He let out the most satisfying roar of rage and leaped forward, landing exactly where I’d been sitting only a moment ago. If I hadn’t been expecting it, I would have been slammed into a mountain of loose diamonds and emeralds, and my still-soft scales would have been bruised all over. But Jasper was the one who landed there instead, while I joyously pounced on his back and rubbed his snout in the pile of rocks.

  ‘Children!’ Our mother raised her head from her forefeet and let out a long-suffering snort that blew through the cave, sending more gold coins flying. ‘Some of us are trying to sleep after a long, hard hunt!’

  ‘I would have helped you hunt,’ I said, jumping off Jasper. ‘If you’d let me come –’

  ‘Your scales haven’t hardened enough to withstand even a wolf’s bite.’ Mother’s great head sank back down towards her glittering blue-and-gold feet. ‘Let alone a bullet or a mage’s spell,’ she added wearily. ‘In another thirty years, perhaps, when you’re nearly grown and ready to fly …’

  ‘I can’t wait another thirty years!’ I bellowed. My voice echoed around the cave, until Grandfather and both of my aunts were calling their own sleepy protests down the long tunnels of our home, but I ignored them. ‘I can’t live cooped up in this mountain forever, going nowhere, doing nothing –’

  ‘Jasper is using his quiet years to teach himself philosophy.’ Mother’s voice no longer sounded weary; it grew cold and hard, like a diamond, as her neck stretched higher and higher above me, her giant golden eyes narrowing into dangerous slits focused solely on me, her disobedient daughter. ‘Other dragons have found their own passions in literature, history or mathematics. Tell me, Aventurine: have you managed to find your passion yet?’

  I ground my teeth together and scratched my front right claws through the piled gold beneath my feet. ‘Lessons are boring. I want to explore and –’

  ‘And how, exactly, do you plan to communicate with the creatures you meet on your explorations?’ Mother asked sweetly. ‘Or have you been progressing further with your language studies than I had imagined?’

  Jasper let out a muffled snicker behind me. I swung around and shot a ball of smoke at him. He let it explode harmlessly in his face, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

  ‘I can speak six languages already,’ I muttered as I turned back to Mother.

  Still, I couldn’t quite lift my head to meet her gaze.

  ‘By the time she was your age,’ Mother said, ‘your sister could speak and write twenty.’

  ‘Hmmph.’

  I didn’t dare snort smoke at Mother. But I would have snorted it at Citrine if she had been stuck here with us, instead of living far away in her perfectly extraordinary, one-of-a-kind, dragon-sized palace. Citrine wrote epic poetry that filled other dragons with awe and was worshipped like a queen by every creature who came near her.

  No one could measure up to my older sister. There was no point even trying.

  I could feel Mother’s gaze on me grow even sharper, as if she’d read my thoughts. ‘Language,’ she said, quoting one of Jasper’s favourite philosophers, ‘is a dragon’s greatest power, reaching far beyond the realm of tooth and claw.’

  ‘I know,’ I muttered.

  ‘Do you really, Aventurine?’ Her long neck curved as her massive head swung down to look me in the eyes. ‘Because courage is one thing, but recklessness is quite another. You may think yourself a ferocious beast, but outside this mountain you wouldn’t survive a day. So you had better start being grateful that you have older and wiser relatives to look after you.’

  Mother was sleeping deeply only two minutes later, her heavy breaths whooshing as calmly and evenly through the cavern as if we’d never even had an argument.

  ‘Not a day?’ Jasper whispered, once she was safely asleep. He shook off the last of the gemstones clinging to his back, and grinned at me, showing all of his teeth. ‘Not an hour, more likely. Not even half an hour, knowing you.’

  I glared at him, mantling my wings. ‘I could look after myself perfectly well. I’m bigger and fiercer than anything else in these mountains.’

  ‘But are you smarter?’ He snorted. ‘I’d wager all the gold in this cavern that even wolves are better at philosophical debates than you. And they probably don’t set things on fire every time they lose!’

  ‘Ohhh!’ I whirled around, lashing my tail. But there was no escape. The cavern walls were too close, and feeling closer with every second. They were pushing in around me until I could barely breathe.

  And I was supposed to spend another thirty years trapped inside this mountain, listening to my relatives tell me off for the fact that it was boring?

  Never.

  That was when I realised exactly what I had to do.

  But I wasn’t stupid, no matter what anyone thought. So I waited until Jasper finally gave up teasing me and curled up with one of his new human books – one that I hadn’t burned. It was a philosophical tract, so I knew I would be safe.

  ‘I’m going on a walk through the tunnels,’ I told him, when he had flicked the pages five times with his claw.

/>   ‘Mm-hmm,’ Jasper murmured, without looking up. ‘Aventurine, listen to this: this fellow thinks it’s morally wrong to eat meat. And fish, too! He won’t hurt any breathing creatures, so he only eats plants. Isn’t that fascinating?’

  ‘Fascinating? He’s going to starve!’ I flicked my ears in horror. ‘I told you humans had pebbles for brains!’

  But my brother didn’t even hear me. Smoke trickled in a long, happy stream through his nostrils as he held the tiny book close to his eyes, rumbling with satisfaction.

  I stepped right over his tail, one foot after another, on my way to freedom.

  Rattling snores echoed down the long tunnels from the caverns where Grandfather Grenat, Aunt Tourmaline and Aunt Émeraude slept. Luckily, at this time of day, when the sun was at its highest, no one was likely to wake at a few scrabbling sounds from the corners of the mountain. Dropping to my belly, I wriggled my way up the side tunnel I’d discovered two years earlier, the one that was too small for any of the grown-ups to use. At the very top, filled and hidden by a boulder the size of my head, was a secret entrance to the mountain. It was my favourite spot in the world.

  I’d shown Jasper of course, ages ago, but he almost never visited it – only when I dragged him there. He was always happiest curled up in our cavern with a book, or scratching out long, wordy treatises with one foreclaw dipped in ink.

  I was the one who loved pushing the boulder free and poking the tip of my snout out of the hole, to take deep, tingling breaths of the fresh, outside air and watch the clouds float through the sky overhead. I’d never dared to go any further, but I lay there for hours sometimes, just dreaming of the day when I would finally be allowed to stretch my wings and fly across the endless sky.

  Today, for the first time ever, I wasn’t going to stop at dreaming.

  I was going to show Jasper – and Mother – just how capable I was of taking care of myself. Then the grown-ups would have no excuse to keep me hidden away any longer.