The Dragon and the Stone E-Book

Kathryn Butler

• Herausgeber: Crossway
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Serie: The Dream Keeper Saga
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

An Adventure Novel for Middle-Grade Readers Steeped in Magic, Mystery, and Glimmers of Hope—Book 1 in the Dream Keeper Saga Even though she's only 12 years old, Lily McKinley already feels the weight of the world's brokenness. She's seen it in her mother's exhaustion, her grandmother's illness, and the cruelty of Adam, the bully at her school. But most tragically, she experienced it two months ago when her father died in a terrible accident.  As an artistic daydreamer, Lily has a brilliant imagination to help her cope, but that imagination often gets her into trouble. One day, it transports her to a fantasy world called the Somnium Realm, where her father's secret history embroils her in an epic quest. With the help of a dragon guide named Cedric, Lily battles evil shrouds, harpies, and other creatures to find her way through grief, rescue the world from evil, and discover the power of redemption.  This thrilling novel by Kathryn Butler mixes fantasy with Christian themes, taking middle-grade readers on a quest through castles, forests, and caverns to help a young girl find hope and usher in restoration. - Christian Themes: This exciting story invites readers into deep conversations about the gospel and theological issues including faith, mourning, sacrifice, salvation, and redemption - Ideal for Middle-Grade Readers and Families: Includes kids' favorite fantasy and adventure elements with imaginative new characters and settings they'll love - Book 1 in the Dream Keeper Saga by Kathryn Butler

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“I could not put this book down! Butler brings creative imagination and spiritual depth together in a way that keeps children engaged and curious. The larger-than-life storyline of The Dragon and the Stone is worth daydreaming about at your desk and discussing with your family around the table. Be prepared for your kids to initiate creative projects after reading!”

Gloria Furman, author, Labor with Hope and A Tale of Two Kings

“The Dragon and the Stone displays all the imagination a book about the realm of dreams should have. The stakes are high—in that realm, and this—but it’s worth braving the dangers.”

James D. Witmer, Managing Editor, StoryWarren.com; author, A Year in the Big Old Garden, Beside the Pond, and The Strange New Dog

“The Dragon and the Stone invites young readers to make an exciting journey into the realm of dreams with Lily McKinley and her eccentric companions. With a great deal of inventiveness and a touch of whimsy, Kathryn Butler takes readers on a perilous ride that they won’t want to end. I was gripped from the first chapter, and I expect families will soon be clamoring for the next book in The Dream Keeper Saga!”

Betsy Childs Howard, Editor, The Gospel Coalition; author, Arlo and the Great Big Cover-Up and Polly and the Screen Time Overload

“Interesting characters and exciting action, vivid locations, and important lessons. This is just the kind of book my children loved to read—and the kind of book I loved to read to them.”

Tim Challies, blogger, Challies.com; author, Seasons of Sorrow

“In The Dragon and the Stone, Kathryn Butler has created a place of belonging for the uniquely creative among us—the girl who finds herself lost in daydreams or the boy who wishes his imaginary creations were real. But it’s not a realm for them alone; it’s a world that calls us all to realize the gifts of creativity we’ve been given and to employ them in serving God and others. Readers inspired by the journey of The Fellowship of the Ring, the redemption of Eustace Scrubb, and the loyalty of Ron and Hermione will find a new story to capture their imaginations and their hearts. Read it with a child, read it by yourself—just read it.”

Catherine Parks, author, Empowered and Strong

“The Dragon and the Stone is a captivating story with undeniable Christian themes, making it a literary treasure that adults and children of all ages will enjoy. In it, Kathryn Butler enlivens the imagination through vivid storytelling while pointing to hope and redemption that only Christ can offer. I cannot wait to read this wonderful tale with my family!”

Hunter Beless, Founder and Host, Journeywomen podcast; author, Read It, See It, Say It, Sing It: Knowing and Loving the Bible

The Dragon and the Stone

The Dragon and the Stone

Kathryn Butler

The Dragon and the Stone

Copyright © 2022 by Kathryn Butler

Published by Crossway1300 Crescent StreetWheaton, Illinois 60187

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher, except as provided for by USA copyright law. Crossway® is a registered trademark in the United States of America.

Published in association with the literary agency of Wolgemuth & Associates

Cover design: Studio Muti

Interior illustrations by Jordan Eskovitz, Crossway

First printing 2022

Printed in the United States of America

Trade paperback ISBN: 978-1-4335-7947-9 ePub ISBN: 978-1-4335-7950-9 PDF ISBN: 978-1-4335-7948-6 Mobipocket ISBN: 978-1-4335-7949-3

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Butler, Kathryn, 1980– author. 

Title: The dragon and the stone / Kathryn Butler. 

Description: Wheaton, Illinois : Crossway, 2022. | Series: The dream keeper saga ; book 1 | Audience: Ages 9–12. | Summary: “Twelve-year-old Lily discovers a stone pendant and is transported to a realm where people’s dreams come to life”—Provided by publisher. 

Identifiers: LCCN 2021047628 (print) | LCCN 2021047629 (ebook) | ISBN 9781433579479 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781433579486 (PDF) | ISBN 9781433579493 (Mobipocket) | ISBN 9781433579509 (ePub)

Subjects: CYAC: Dreams—Fiction. | Magic—Fiction. | Adventure and Adventurers—Fiction. | Fantasy. | LCGFT: Novels. | Fantasy fiction. 

Classification: LCC PZ7.1.B8935 Dr 2022 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.B8935 (ebook)  | DDC [Fic]—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021047628LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021047629

Crossway is a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

2022-03-30 01:36:56 PM

To Jack and Christie, my favorite adventurers.

May your imagination spark reminders of his light.

Contents

Map

1  The Dragon in the Kitchen

2  The Knight in the Schoolyard

3  An Intruder in the Fortress

4  Race for Ambush Ledge

5  Twilight

6  Ogres and Kestrels

7  The Wilderness

8  The Cliff

9  Pax

10  Downriver

11  The Cascades

12  The Basin

13  The Cat and the Harpy

14  The Flying Emerald

15  Castle Iridyll

16  The Council

17  The Song

18  The Quest Begins

19  Fire in the Air

20  Lost in the Desert

21  The Forgotten

22  The Cave of Lights

23  Treachery

24  The Petrified Forest

25  The Catacombs

26  Eymah

27  The Escape

28  Beginnings and Endings

Chapter 1

The Dragon in the Kitchen

Lily McKinley trudged into the house, plodded to the kitchen, and froze. On the counter in front of her, with its barbed tail curled like a question mark, a dragon gobbled her mother’s Crock-Pot chili.

Before this moment it had been an ordinary Tuesday. Lily forgot about a science test again and muddled through questions about the water cycle in an anxious sweat. During recess Adam Sykes stole her copy of King Arthur and His Knights, and with his signature sneer he chucked the book into a mud puddle. Lily blotted the soaked pages with the hem of her jacket, and her throat tightened when she accidentally tore one of her father’s sketches drawn in a margin.

She arrived home with the beloved book clutched to her chest, then tripped on the stoop again. She paused at the mirror in the entryway, stood on her tiptoes to peer into the glass, and discovered a smear of banana—a relic from a food fight on the school bus that morning—still encrusted in her hair, with a wayward clump protruding from her head like the appendage of an insect. “This was in my hair all day?” she moaned. She raked her fingers through it, but only succeeded in tugging a few strands of hair from her scalp.

In the living room, her grandmother sat in her usual armchair in front of the television. “Hi, Gran,” Lily said, kissing her cheek. “Is Mom asleep?” Gran mumbled something unintelligible, and Lily dropped to her knees to meet her at eye level. A flicker of recognition brightened Gran’s face, and with a tremulous hand, she reached to cup Lily’s cheek. “Daniel . . .” she whispered.

“No, Gran. It’s me, Lily. But I miss him too.” She clasped her grandmother’s frail hand, and Gran stared back, her eyes urgent and pleading. Then, as if blocked by a falling curtain, the spark in Gran’s eyes dimmed and her attention returned to the screen.

Lily kissed Gran again and headed to the kitchen for her routine snack. She let her bookbag drop with a thud, as always. She massaged away the headache throbbing behind her eyes, as she usually did after such a day.

Then she saw it. It perched on the kitchen counter, its scales rippling and bloodred under the overhead lights.

A jolt of panic gripped Lily’s chest. She took a step backward, then rubbed her eyes as if to wipe away a lingering dream. It’s my imagination again, she told herself. The scar on her palm, a relic from her explosive efforts to make flying shoes in the microwave, reminded her of the last time her thoughts went wild. Lily blinked, expecting the apparition to vanish and the day to grind on as usual.

Instead, the beast dived deeper into the pot to slurp up the dregs.

This can’t be happening. Dragons aren’t real! Lily’s heart pounded. The creature stood no taller than her neighbor’s Labrador retriever, but the claws with which it clasped the Crock-Pot tapered like daggers. As she examined its serpentine body and its sharp wings folded against its back like razors, her disbelief gave way to terror.

There was no mistake. A dragon was in her kitchen.

Lily’s mind raced. Two months ago, she would have dashed to find her parents if she saw so much as a spider on the floor. Yet as she stood rooted to the spot before a bloodthirsty monster, she thought of her mother, and she hesitated. Too often lately, Lily found her mom collapsed in exhaustion, her head dropped onto the crook of one arm, with an untouched cup of coffee still steaming beside her. Lily would place a hand on her shoulder, and when her mother lifted her head, she’d squeeze Lily’s fingers. “It’ll be all right, Lily,” she’d say. Then she’d slog to a stand, wrap Lily in her arms, and head to the hospital to work another overnight shift.

Lily had witnessed too many of those afternoons to disturb her mom now, when she’d finally squeezed in some sleep. She thought to call for Gran in the living room, but Gran couldn’t eat or dress herself on her own, let alone face a dragon.

There was no one to help. Subduing the monster was up to Lily—a shrimpy twelve-year-old with banana in her hair.

Her eyes darted from the dragon’s fistfuls of claws, to the window, to the sink, to the counters. What should I do? she asked, wringing her shirtsleeve as she fretted. What can I do? All the details she’d read about dragons—the fire breathing, the treasure hoarding, the maiden swiping—rushed through her mind in a frightening tangle. Surely, she was no match for this beast. Yet, what alternative did she have? If she stood idly by, she might be swiped herself. Or worse, barbecued.

Lily saw a wooden spoon discarded on the counter and still plastered with tomato paste from her mom’s dinner preparations. Slowly, silently, she stretched out her hand. Please don’t make a noise, she thought.

Her fingers trembled as she grasped the handle, but to her relief she retrieved it without a sound. She clenched her teeth and held the spoon aloft in front of her, as she’d seen so many knights raise their swords in the stories she loved. She imagined what Sir Lancelot or Sir Galahad would do . . . if they fought with spoons.

Lily drew a deep breath, and then counted down.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Daniel!”

Lily wheeled around. To her horror, Gran stood behind her, propped against the doorframe, a quizzical expression creasing her face. Lily waved her off. No, Gran! Go! Get out of here! she mouthed.

It was too late. A growl like the sound of crunching bones broke the silence. Lily turned to see the dragon’s head lift from the pot. Its yellow eyes narrowed to slits and glared at her as steam spewed from its nostrils.

“Gran, get out!” Lily yelled.

The beast launched into the air with a piercing screech. Its wings spread like a cloak above them, blocking out the light, and then flapped a few strident beats that churned up a windstorm in the ten-by-ten-foot kitchen.

The wind tore dangling pans from their hooks on the walls. The Crock-Pot tipped over, sending beans and sauce streaking across the floor. Salt and pepper shakers crashed against the cabinets, and boxes of cereal flew from atop the refrigerator, then blew open to unleash a hail of flakes.

Mustering all her courage, Lily ran into the center of the kitchen and swung the spoon at the beast. As usual, she was too short. She sliced empty air, and in fury the monster bellowed a roar that rattled the silverware in the drawers and rocked the windowpanes in their casings.

The dragon slashed its talons just inches from Lily’s face, and she ducked to the floor to avoid a whip from its tail.

“Get away!” she yelled at the monster. “Leave us alone!”

Another shriek split the air. Plumes of smoke filled the room, and the dragon’s eyes hardened with malice.

“Leave us alone!” Lily shouted again.

Suddenly, a flash of light flooded the room. Lily shielded her face against the blinding glare, which mottled her vision with swirling colors. The light pulsed for a few seconds, and then, as quickly as it had begun, it snapped out.

When Lily dared to open her eyes, the beast had vanished.

She fought to steady her breathing, and turned to Gran, who leaned against the doorframe and hid her face. Beside her stood Mom, with a hand on Gran’s shoulder.

Lily rushed toward her. “Mom!” she said breathlessly. “Did you see it? Did you see what just happened?”

“Lily, what—”

“There was a dragon, Mom! A real dragon! I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it’s true! It was eating our dinner, and when I came into the kitchen it flew into the air, and everything started flying around—”

Lily noticed the stricken look on her mother’s face. It was the same expression her mom had given her the time a costume party with their cat earned her a trip to the emergency room, and when her attempt to brew an invisibility potion drew the fire department. Lily braced herself for a lecture, perhaps even some yelling.

Instead, her mother did something much worse: she buried her head in her hands and started to cry. “I can’t do this,” she said through her tears. “I can’t do this alone.”

Lily’s heart lurched. She surveyed the destruction in the kitchen: the soiled floor and counters, chili splattered on the ceiling, dishes smashed, cornflakes jammed into every crevice. “Mom, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll clean it up, I promise.”

Her mother drew a breath and wiped her eyes. She tucked a few flyaway strands of hair behind her ears and smoothed her nursing uniform.

“It’s okay, honey. Don’t mind me. Just leave it.” She tossed a hand in the air to dismiss the mess, but she couldn’t disguise her weariness. “I’ll help you clean it up tomorrow. Just take care of Gran. Make sure she takes her medicine before bed.”

“Okay, Mom. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

Her mother forced a smile through her tears, then kissed Lily on the forehead and left for work. Lily watched her go and stared at the closed door even after the headlights faded down the street.

Lily gave Gran her medicine and tucked her into bed, then filled a bucket with water and added a squirt of dish soap. As the treefrogs and crickets filled the night with song, and as other kids in the neighborhood pulled on their flannel pajamas and hunkered down for bedtime stories, Lily scrubbed counters, scoured the floor, and washed pots. She vacuumed cereal from unlikely corners and shoveled Crock-Pot fragments into the trash.

After she’d wiped the last blobs of food from the walls, she retrieved King Arthur from the floor and shuffled to her room. Her head throbbed again. The dragon had seemed so real. Yet, how could it be possible? Her mom didn’t believe her. Maybe she had dreamed it all up. Maybe she got carried away with her imagination again.

Lily flipped through her book to clear her head. Puddle water still dampened its pages as she sat on the bed and perused stories of dragons and quests that she could recite by heart. She longed for the world she glimpsed in the pages—an era when knights challenged evil against insurmountable odds and good pulsed in the heart of every champion. A place where hope throbbed like a heartbeat.

She lingered over a charcoal drawing in the back, featuring a bald-capped mountain with a ten-spired fortress, a valley unfolding beneath a setting sun, and a winding river. The drawing was her father’s.

Her eyes danced over some verses he’d scrawled in a corner of the page. He’d sung them countless times: while tucking her into bed, or while holding her after she’d stubbed a toe. As she read them, Lily sang softly to herself:

Carry me past the silver stream

Into the realm of living dreams.

There in the cool and whisp’ring night

I’ll wait for you in the cave of lights.

She dwelled on the last words for a moment, then turned the page. To her surprise, something slid from the book.

Lily’s brow furrowed. In her lap lay a silver chain, with a pale, teardrop-shaped stone dangling from one link. A swirl of white mist seemed suspended in its depths.

How did this get in here? She ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the stone. Her father had worn it for as long as she could remember; he said he’d found it in the creek behind his house as a boy. His story had inspired her habit of ducking her hands wrist-deep into muddy creek banks to search for magic stones.

She felt grateful. Its weight in her palm felt like a part of him she could keep and hold. Yet in all her twelve years, she’d never known him to take it off. Had he really left it for her before he departed on his trip? Had it really been in her book all along, safely tucked away for all these months since he’d died?

She draped the necklace over her head and patted the stone where it rested over her heart. Then she reached under her pillow for her dad’s shirt, a tattered, flannel rag her mother always teased him about. After two months, it didn’t smell like him anymore, but after a few rolls of the cuffs the sleeves felt soft and welcome against her arms.

She lay down and tried to sleep, but her mind stirred with a mess of thoughts: dragon wings, sponges, smeared banana. Science tests, scales, and claws. The discovery of a pale stone.

The memory of the dragon’s eyes penetrated through all the images. Their bilious shade, and the ruthless way they bore into her made her shudder. She hoped they would never lock her in their menacing gaze again.

And yet, in a part of her mind she couldn’t explain, she marveled about what would happen if they did.

She drifted into a fitful sleep. Hours later, when the stars blinked awake, the stone around her neck glowed like a dollop of moonlight.

Chapter 2

The Knight in the Schoolyard

Lily awoke to the school bus grinding away from her house.

At first, she couldn’t place the sound, and blinked at the ceiling to shake off the last remnants of sleep. When the hour dawned on her, she bolted out of bed and peered out the window just in time to see the bus drone down the street and turn the corner.

“Not again!” she yelled. She still wore her clothes from the day before, but had no time to change, and so she fastened a few buttons of her father’s shirt to hide her day-old outfit. Berating herself under her breath, she grabbed her bookbag and dashed to the bathroom to gargle with mouthwash. A brush tugged through her hair still snarled in dried banana, so she just smoothed away her bedhead with her fingers and raced out the door.

She ran the two miles to school and arrived to find her teacher already writing on the board. Mrs. Santiago’s back was turned to her, and Lily dared to believe she could slip in unnoticed. She held her breath, ignored the eyes of half a dozen students who turned to scrutinize her, and tiptoed toward her seat.

“Ow! Look where you’re going!”

Her bag had whacked Susan Jeong in the back of the head, and the girl now rubbed her scalp and scowled at her. Lily mumbled an apology and scooted into her seat, but not before all eyes in the room, including Mrs. Santiago’s, trained on her.

“Lillian. Do you have a tardy slip?”

Lily bit her lip. “Um, I’m sorry, Mrs. Santiago. I didn’t get one. I was in too much of a rush.”

A few kids snickered, and Lily slunk further into her chair. She wished she could disappear.

“Next time, stop by the office for a tardy slip,” Mrs. Santiago said. “Or better yet, be in class on time?”

Lily nodded and tried to ignore the gum wrapper that struck her in the head as Mrs. Santiago returned to the board. She lugged her notebook from her bag and tried to focus on the class.

She fought to listen, but worries nagged her and her attention soon strayed. At first, she doodled a star kestrel, a mythical bird of prey she’d dreamed up. As the morning wore on, her bird drawings morphed into sketches of the dragon.

It seemed so real, she thought, as she outlined the scales with a red colored pencil. But why would it be in my kitchen? Could it really just have been my imagination? Soon, that same imagination took her far from the classroom, into lands where the sea crashed against cragged cliffs, and where dragons of every color wheeled through skies lit afire in the sunset.

“Lillian. Can you please give us an example?”

Lily had just finished shading the eyes in yellow ochre, and she jumped when Mrs. Santiago called on her. She felt eyes boring into her and glanced around the room to see more and more of the class staring at her, some smirking, some barely withholding laughter.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?” Lily asked, her voice cracking.

“Can you please give us another example of a woman in history who overcame incredible difficulties?”

Lily’s heart pounded. She first thought of her mother, who dressed patients’ wounds and gave them medication for their pain long into the night. Her mom, who fought to keep their family afloat through her tears. Knowing she needed a different answer, Lily’s thoughts raced in search of another name. With her cheeks flushing and her palms sweaty, she blurted the first that came to mind.

“Lady Guinevere?”

Laughter rippled throughout the room, and another balled up gum wrapper hit Lily in the back of the head. Mrs. Santiago, arms folded across her chest, shook her head.

“Quiet down please, that’s enough. Lillian, no, Lady Guinevere was not a real person. Can someone else please give us an example?”

Lily shrank into her chair and wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. She spent the rest of the class with gritted teeth, staring at the drawing on her desk and feeling somehow that she was caught between worlds.

When class ended, Lily skulked to the back of the room to slink out with the crowd, but to her dismay Mrs. Santiago stopped her. “Lillian? Can we talk, please?” She motioned for Lily to sit beside her desk. Lily tried not to wince when a boy smacked her in the shoulder as she turned back into the room.

Lily plunked herself down. Out of nervousness, she unrolled a sleeve of her father’s shirt and played with the button on the cuff.

“Lillian, how are you doing?” Mrs. Santiago asked as she wrote notes in her planner.

“It’s Lily, actually.”

“What’s that?”

“My name. It’s Lily. Like the flower?”

Mrs. Santiago put down her pen and raised an eyebrow. Lily regretted she’d said anything.

“Lily. How are you doing?”

How was she doing? She’d lost her father, was worried about her mom, had missed the bus, and had dried banana in her hair. And a dragon had ransacked her kitchen the night before.

“I’m okay,” she said.

“You’ve been through a lot lately. It’s hard enough to skip a grade, and then—”

“I didn’t skip a grade.”

“Oh, really? How old are you?”

“Twelve.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were younger.”

“It’s okay. Lots of people think that.”

“Well. Still. It’s certainly hard to lose a parent. And I worry that you’re having trouble coping.”

Lily bit her lip and worried the button more vigorously. She knew Mrs. Santiago meant well, but she just wanted to leave.

“Your grades are slipping. You’re constantly late. And Lily—” she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, “this isn’t art class, you know. Do you even remember what I taught today, when you spent the entire class scribbling?”

Lily blushed.

“You know, Lily, you can always talk to me. Or maybe you’d like to speak with Miss Liu, our psychologist?”

Before Lily could answer, a shadow slid across the floor. It was long and sleek, a black arrow bisecting the room. Pointed wings fanned from its sides.

Lily jumped from her chair, knocking it over in her haste. She scrambled to the window and strained her eyes against the glare of the sun.

There it is.

The dragon flew in a streak of red, its wings slicing the sky like blades. It soared upward, curlicued, and then disappeared behind the trees. Unsuspecting kids played kickball in an adjacent field.

“Lily? Are you okay?”

Instead of answering, Lily bolted from the room and barreled through a line of third graders standing single file in the hallway. “Young lady, no running!” a teacher shouted, but she didn’t listen. She could think only of the kids on that kickball field, oblivious to the deadly monster circling nearby.

She raced into the school driveway and, with a hand shielding her eyes from the sun, she turned circles and searched the skies. She saw power lines, the stippled tops of trees. A few gauzy clouds stretched thin by high winds. A solitary crow. But no flash of red, no sharp outline of tail and wings caught her eye.

I must be going crazy, Lily thought. She searched the horizon one more time, but found nothing and dropped her hands in defeat.

A scream startled her. She spun toward the cry and expected to see some poor kindergartner bawling in the dragon’s clutches. Instead, she only saw Adam Sykes, his lips curled in a sneer and his cowlick waving like an antenna, wrenching a lunchbox away from a kid half his size.

“Let’s see the baby food your mom made you for lunch, worm!” Adam sneered. The younger boy fought tears as Adam yanked away his lunchbox and dumped the contents onto the blacktop. “What’s the matter?” Adam said. “You hungry? Here, I’ve got some food for you!” With a mighty stomp, he ground the boy’s sandwich into the asphalt.

Adam’s laugh and his cowlick standing on end reminded Lily of a rooster. With a groan of disgust and a shake of her head, she walked toward the field to resume her search for the dragon, but as she turned, the little boy caught her eye. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and with pudgy hands he frantically reached and grasped at the empty air while Adam mocked him. As Lily watched him, the adrenaline that had pumped through her a moment ago hardened into anger.

Lily marched across the blacktop and planted herself between the two boys. “Leave him alone, Adam,” she said. “Just give him back his lunchbox, and find something better to do.”

“Oh, it’s Silly Lily, come to the rescue!” Adam jeered. “Does your book want to go for a swim again, Silly Lily?”

“Give him the lunchbox.”

“Answer my question, and maybe I will. Does your book want to go for a swim?”

“Grow up!”

“Ha! You like this, guys?” He motioned to a couple of his goons, who snickered behind him. “The midget thinks I should grow up. What grade are you in? Kindergarten, right?” He tugged at her shirt. “That’s why you still like to play dress up. Do you see this, guys? She’s dressed up in her dad’s clothes!”

Lily clenched her teeth. “Give. Back. The lunchbox.”

“Or what? You’ll tell your dad?” Adam’s smirk deepened into something sinister. “Oh, that’s right, you can’t tell him, because he’s dead!”

Lily reacted before she could think. She leapt forward like a coiled spring and knocked Adam across the chest. Caught off guard, Adam pitched backward onto the ground, then lifted his head just in time to see Lily’s fist connect with his face.

The little boy, his eyes wide, gathered his mutilated lunch and dashed off. Someone yelled, “Fight!” and a crowd soon aggregated around the two wrangling kids.

Adam knocked Lily aside with his elbow. As she staggered backward, he delivered a kick to her knee, and Lily’s leg buckled under the strike. She bent forward and gripped her knee as pain seared through the joint, and her pause gave Adam just enough time to knee her in the chest.

Lily fell backward and gasped for breath. Fireflies danced before her eyes, and noises suddenly muffled, as if she thrashed underwater.

Then Adam’s face, fierce with hatred, appeared above her. He retracted his fist. Too winded to stand up, Lily braced herself for the next blow.

Flash.

A halo of light suddenly engulfed them. It was blue, brilliant, like the blazing cone at the center of a flame. Adam backpedaled with his mouth agape, and the spectators cried and shielded their eyes against the radiance. Lily blinked away tears and searched for the source of the light. She glanced down.

The pendant around her neck shone like a star.

Another sound broke through the chaos. Adam, who had forgotten his determination to throttle Lily, rose to his feet. “What the heck is that?” he cried.

Kids and teachers backed away as a white horse reared against the sky. Astride its graceful back sat a knight, his armor shining like liquid metal, a plume of white feathers adorning his helm.

Lily’s heart pounded. How is this happening? As the horse’s hooves clattered on the pavement, she remembered the stories of Camelot her father had read to her over and over. Awe broke through her fear. He’s magnificent. Just like I always imagined Lancelot would be.

The horse stamped the pavement in anticipation, and the knight raised his shield. Then, he lowered his lance.

He pointed directly at Adam.

“Prepare to defend your honor!” the knight cried in a thick French accent.

Lily’s delight evaporated. “No, wait!” she cried. “Please don’t! Don’t hurt him!”

“W-w-what’s going on?” Adam backed away and held up his hands. “This is crazy! This can’t be happening!”

The horse’s every muscle tensed. It whinnied, pawed the ground, and yanked against the reins. The knight held the steed back but leaned forward in the saddle, readying to charge.

“This can’t be happening!” Adam cried again. He looked to Lily. “Call it off, you freak!”

Lily scrambled to her feet. “I don’t know what’s going on! Please, don’t hurt him!” she called, with her hands raised to the knight.

The horse, frantic, neighed one last time. Then the knight pulsed his heels against the horse’s flanks, and the steed sprinted forward in attack.

Adam ran screaming across the field. A crowd of kids followed, as well as two horrified teachers. As she watched them go, Lily held both hands to her head and trembled.

Something is wrong. Something is so very wrong. She glanced down and saw that the stone dangling around her neck still glowed with pale fire. She concealed it with her palm and in a panic ran from the schoolyard.

She raced to the Fortress, the treehouse her father had built in the woods so many years before. Although it had no portcullis or ramparts, no drawbridge or moat, as her mind reeled it struck her as the only safe place.

After running on the sidewalk for several blocks, Lily veered onto a trail and plunged into the forest. The ground, still soft from a recent rain, flew behind her in clumps. As the sounds of cars faded into the distance, the mustiness of sodden leaves perfumed the air. She heard the familiar melody of the creek—Silverstream, her dad had called it, to remind her of beautiful things, just as he’d named her Lily to remind her that summer always comes. The farther she ran, the more her panic ebbed.

She crossed the stream in a single leap and swerved around the boulders, two heaping chunks of mountain displaced by glaciers millennia ago. Finally, she came to the Fortress, nestled in the crook of a triple-trunk maple.

She climbed the rope ladder, withdrew it from the ground, and then dived into the keep and barred the door. She crouched on the floor with her knees to her chest and fought to catch her breath. As her pulse slowed, she glanced at the pendant. The stone had dimmed, as if all along it had been an ordinary rock.

Lily burst into tears. “What’s wrong with me?” she said. She wrapped her arms around herself, gripping the fabric that once clung to her father and wishing she could hold on to him again. He would have known the answers, or at least the words to calm her. He would have reassured her that she was okay.

Lily wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and sighed to breathe away the loneliness. She stared into the stone, mining its depths for answers. Maybe there wasn’t a dragon or a knight, she thought. Maybe the stone hadn’t glowed at all. Maybe she just needed to believe there were knights and dragons in the world. Maybe she needed to dream.

Was that all it was? Just a dream?

She never discerned an answer. Instead, a growl, guttural and inhuman, sounded from the ground below.

Chapter 3

An Intruder in the Fortress

Lily held her breath. For a moment, she could hear nothing except the creak of the treehouse swaying in the wind.

Then, suddenly, leaves rustled beneath her. She peered through the slats in the floor and leapt back as something red swept past.

It’s here.

Lily heard a huff and another growl. A thud resounded, and Lily realized the dragon had leapt onto the Fortress balcony.

She scoured the room for a weapon. Art supplies leaned against one corner and a stack of books against another. A few water balloons lay limp and unused on the floor. Could she use a plastic sword? A half-deflated soccer ball?

She settled on an unused softball bat, which she hoisted to her shoulder with sweaty hands. She turned to face the door and clenched her teeth to stop herself from shaking.

A clink of claws against wood rattled outside the keep. Floor boards groaned. The dragon snorted, sending rivulets of steam billowing into the room.

It’s just outside the door.

Boom. The door rattled as the dragon planted a kick against it. The bar, a wooden plank straddling two wedges of wood, bowed under the impact.

Boom. A tail strike splintered a center board.

Lily backed away, and her hands tightened around the bat. Please, don’t let it hurt me, she prayed.

Boom. The door buckled. The dragon screeched in triumph.

A sickening crack split the air, and splinters flew into Lily’s face. Then, with a horrible crash, the monster burst in.

Lily didn’t wait for its attack. She swung the bat, striking the dragon across its horned face. The beast staggered backward and shook its head as if tousling away dizziness, and for an instant Lily considered darting around it to escape.

She never had the opportunity. The beast recovered, then glared at her with its unearthly amber eyes.

Lily found herself staring back. As she returned the dragon’s gaze, confusion broke through her fear. Its eyes were icy, otherworldly, yet also . . . exasperated? How was that possible?

Before she could ponder further, the dragon reared on its hind legs, spread its wings, and shook the treehouse with its roar. The curtains whipped, and Lily’s hair flew back from her face.

“Leave me alone!” Lily shouted. “Get out!” She swung the bat again, but missed. To her horror, the dragon grasped the bat in its talons, and with an awful crunch its jaws snapped the weapon in two.

It’s all over now, Lily thought. She backed against the wall and fumbled blindly for something, anything, to defend herself. Her heart threatened to pound straight out of her chest.

The creature advanced toward her, its stare piercing. Its claws scraped grooves in the floor.

“Please, please go away!” Lily cried.

The dragon’s breath, putrid and hot, blasted her cheeks.

“What do you want with me?”

“For starters, young lady, I’d like an apology! That’s twice you’ve attacked me with a stick, and that last bump to the head really hurt!”

Lily gawked. The dragon spoke in a posh English accent, the refined lilt Lily would expect among prim ladies who donned gloves at teatime.

“I don’t care what the Master says,” the dragon continued. “Standards for keepers are slipping these days.” The creature lashed its tail, and a spray of papers flew into the air. It shifted its lithe body and tapped a claw against the floor in apparent boredom as it awaited her reply.

Lily could find no words. The beast looked, in every inch and shimmery scale, like a dragon. That truth was distressing enough. Now, it also spoke like Sherlock Holmes.

It’s official, Lily thought. The kids at school are right. I am crazy.