Chapter 1
IF THIS WERE a legend, She Who Rides Dragons would be an armour-clad heroine sitting on top of her fire-breathing steed, striking fear into the hearts of villains and bringing justice to all the citizens of the city.
But it was not a legend and the only fear was in Nellie’s own heart, and in particular, a practical fear she might fall off. In fact, she’d barely managed to clamber onto the dragon’s back when it had leapt from the back steps of the palace into the darkness of the night.
When it unfolded huge wings under her, she’d managed to grab onto the part where they joined the body and all she could do was hang on for her life, while the shouts of the people in the back yard of the palace kitchen receded.
Her kitchen apron was definitely an inferior type of armour. It didn’t even protect her against the biting cold wind.
She had no weapons either, not that she could have used them if she did.
So here she was hanging onto the dragon’s back, seeing the few meagre street lamps lights of the city of Saardam underneath her. She had no idea which part of town this was, only that it was a long way down there, and she did not want to fall.
None of this was heroic.
To make matters worse, the little kitten had come along for the ride, and it was now terrified, hanging onto her side, while digging its claws into her skin. She very much wanted to pull it off her dress and stick it in her pocket, but that meant letting go of one of the dragon’s wings, and that option was even less attractive.
Where was the dragon going?
What if it dumped her in a forest where she had no idea how to get home? And if she managed not to fall off and made it safely to the ground, what if bandits who roamed the fields outside the city captured her? What if they stole her clothes and let her roam naked in the forest in the snow, as had happened to some poor farmers not long ago?
But none of that happened.
The dragon, after having gained height, merely circled over the city.
Nellie sat in between the shoulder blades and hung onto a comblike thing on its back.
It was peaceful up here if you didn’t think about falling. The houses were so small and if people on the ground were shouting, she couldn’t hear it.
She patted the dragon’s neck.
“Can you please put me down?”
The dragon had never displayed signs of understanding her and didn’t react.
It continued to circle.
Nellie said again, “Please, put me down. I’m cold.” Her face was almost too numb to speak.
How did one talk to a dragon? Nellie had no magic. The dragon’s box was in the bag she held on her back, but it held no instructions on how to talk to the dragon, or how to get it back in the box.
Her notion that the dragon had come back because she wanted it to seemed ridiculous. One did not tell a magical creature what to do unless one was also a magician.
But she needed to get off. She might get too cold to hold on. Already, her hands hurt.
Suddenly, the dragon made a sharp turn—Nellie gasped—and glided down. It snorted and blew sparks from its nostrils.
What was it doing?
But then Nellie spotted another glow over the city. From a distance, it looked like a bonfire, but it moved.
“What is that thing?”
The dragon only replied with another snort of sparks. She wished it wouldn’t do that. It might set her dress on fire.
“Are you afraid of it?”
Obviously, because it was flying lower and lower, over a part of the city where streetlights were sparse.
Now she feared that it would crash into something—how could it see anything in this darkness?—or it would land on a roof and fall through, or leave her stranded there, unable to get down. She would freeze to death.
That would be a terrible thing.
She patted the dragon’s neck again.
“Please, land somewhere in the street, so I can walk back.”
Walk back where?
She couldn’t go back to the palace after all those guards had seen her take off with the dragon. By now, her name would be on the most-wanted list.
Magician, killer.
The dragon flew lower and lower, skirting so low over the roofs that Nellie thought she could touch them.
Oh no, those houses were getting far too close. The dragon ducked into the street between them. Its wingtips raked the walls on both sides. Glass shattered.
Then the dragon’s feet touched the ground and with a great jolt it ran along. Nellie’s hands were so cold that she couldn’t hang on any longer. She slid off and fell in the street.
Ouch.
The ground was cold and wet but it was solid and familiar.
She stumbled up, numb from that terrifying ride. She was safe; she hadn’t fallen and hadn’t been left on a roof. She had survived.
The cobblestones glistened in the light of a single street lamp further down. The houses on both sides of the street were dark, although one or two windows radiated a faint glow. She thought she was somewhere in the artisan quarter.
If this were a legend, there would be an army waiting to rescue her from the terrible dragon, chomping at the bit to slay the beast.
If it were a nightmare, citizens would come out of their houses with pitchforks to slay the witch who rode the dragon.
But the only sound was the mewling of that silly little kitten. It had lost its grip on her dress when she fell and now came trotting towards her. She picked it up.
The dragon had come to a halt all the way past the street lamp. It nosed one of its front paws, and then made a little jump, jerking its wings at the same time.
She had expected it to take off again, once it was rid of that annoying thing riding on its back, but it didn’t.
It did that funny jump thing again, and again, scratching its nose with its paw. It was sneezing, blowing out smoke each time it did. It shook its head vigorously, then rubbed its head on the lamppost. And scratched its nose again.
Another jump.
It tossed its head, uttering a low growl.
There was something stuck in one of its nostrils.
“Come here,” Nellie said, reaching out her hand and taking a step closer.
The dragon raised its head and looked at her as if it had forgotten she was there.
“Come. It’ll get it out for you.”
The kitten wriggled from her grip and trotted up to the dragon.
The dragon lowered its head and sniffed the tiny kitten. But the sniffing made it sneeze again. The kitten jumped and scurried back to Nellie, its tail all fluffed up like a brush.
Nellie was so close that she could feel the warm air of the dragon’s breath.
Warmth could mean the difference between life and death in winter. She could survive until the morning without food or water, but if she couldn’t keep herself warm, she’d be dead by morning.
The dragon might well be her only chance of survival.
“Come,” she said again.
She touched the dragon’s snout, ready to pull her hand away. My, its breath was really warm.
It didn’t jerk back or try to snap at her hand, so she let it glide over the warm skin, coming closer to the nostril. Its ear twitched.
Her fingers probed into the nostril opening and met the irritating object. Nellie pushed her index finger and middle finger together to grab hold of it and pull it out. It was a splinter of wood.
The dragon shook its head so vigorously that its ears flapped against its neck. It blew out a cloud of warm air, then pushed its head into her hand, as if it were a kitten. She patted the warm snout.
The kitten jumped onto the dragon’s head and the dragon lifted it up.
Nellie found it hard to believe that such a creature was evil. Whatever Lord Verdonck and Madame Sabine had tried to do to it must have been bad.
“Those people must have terrified you.” She slid her hand over the smooth skin. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. People will want to kill you. You better go back into your box.”
But when she pulled out the box, the dragon shied back. It blew out a gust of hot breath.
“All right, calm down.” She put the box back into her bag.
A young voice said, “Whoa, look at that!”
A group of three children peeked out of an alley. They stood in the corner in the faint glow of the street lamp. They were street urchins in worn clothes.
“Is that really a dragon?”
“Don’t come closer,” Nellie called out to them.
“Is it dangerous? You better watch out, miss. It might eat you.”
She still had no idea what dragons ate. Especially this one, which had been locked inside a box for the best part of twenty years. It was a magical dragon, but it felt real and solid. It had to eat something to sustain itself.
“Oh, look at that,” another child said. “There’s a cute kitten on its head.”
The dragon lowered its head, blowing smoke over the street. The children laughed and squealed.
It seemed like the dragon was enjoying itself.
“Did you just fly here on the back of that dragon?” a girl said to Nellie, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. She remembered how both Princess Celine and Prince Bruno, as toddlers, had no trouble believing their mother’s stories about ghosts. Just like these kids had no issue with the fact that a dragon was in the street. They knew what dragons looked like. There were plenty of pictures of eastern dragons, and this was clearly one.
“That’s means you’re a dragon tamer!” the girl shouted, her voice excited.
The boy gave Nellie a suspicious look. “She doesn’t look like a dragon tamer. I don’t know any girl dragon tamers. Dragon tamers wear armour, not aprons.”
“Girls can be dragon tamers if they want.”
“They cannot.”
“Can so.”
“Children, please.” These kids would bring everyone into the street with their shouting. “The dragon needs a place to hide. Do you know one around here?”
The boy’s eyes widened. “I can ask my mum if the dragon can sleep in our shed.”
“Well . . .” Nellie wasn’t sure if the boy’s mother should become involved.
“Tell it to wait here,” the boy said. He ran off into the side alley.
Nellie didn’t like waiting here in the street. Even if the dragon wanted to stay with her, she didn’t want to be found with it; and besides, she was getting very cold. She walked into the alley where the boy had disappeared, and the other children followed her.
“My brother is stupid,” the girl said to Nellie. “Girls can so be dragon tamers.” She glanced at the dragon. “Can I touch it?”
“It’s a wild dragon. It may be dangerous.”
“That kitten doesn’t think so.”
“It’s a magical dragon.”
“I’m not scared of magic.”
“What’s your name?”
“Anneke.”
“Anneke, is your full name Johanna, after the queen?”
She pulled a face. “I don’t like that name. Nobody uses full names. Only nasty nobles.”
A couple of people were coming down the alley. It was very dark, and one was carrying a lamp.
A woman said, “Nellie?”
Nellie recognised the voice. “Mina! I was worried about what happened to you.”
She fell into her friend’s arms.
“You’re not the girl’s mother, aren’t you?” She was pretty sure Mina’s children were grown.
“Not me. But Bas was talking about a dragon, and I thought I’d better check this out.”
“I feared you were in the poorhouse after you got evicted from the church.”
“No, Never that place. It’s full of leery men and drunkards. I wouldn’t want to subject any children to that. But what about you? Little Bas tells me you have a dragon.”
“I wouldn’t call it mine. It’s following me around and creating a lot of trouble for me, but I don’t know that it will listen to me.”
Nellie stepped aside so that Mina’s light reached the dragon which had followed into the alley. The passage was so narrow that the dragon’s sides brushed the walls. Its head was fully in the pool of light from the lamp. The scales and comblike protuberance on its head gleamed in the low light. The orange eyes blinked.