Chapter 21 #3
“You lot, get this under control,” Ms. Angela commanded the orderlies.
Quick as a whippet, she leapt off of the desk, pushed past the frightened dragons that had just entered, and ran outside to see what was happening.
The orderlies exchanged glances after she’d gone and surreptitiously began disappearing from the crowd.
Katherine suspected they were wordlessly agreeing that they could easily find jobs better than this.
“What is going on out there?” she said, craning her neck. “Ruben, you stay here.” Katherine and Mrs. Chrysler picked their way through the crowd to the exit, rushed through the wreck of a foyer, and soon stood next to Ms. Angela, who was frozen with terror at the edge of the portico.
Before them loomed a staggeringly large dragon, at least ten times bigger than any that had accompanied them, lacking any of the fur or softness that made the others seem so cuddly.
Its dazzling opalescent scales glistened pink and azure in a pearlesque light it seemed to create itself. Miners were fleeing from it.
“Um, where did that one come from, Katty?” Mrs. Chrysler asked.
“Imogene, I have no idea.”
Smoky billows surrounded the dragon and periodically erupted in small forks of lightning.
“I think I’d remember if we’d brought that one.”
“Um, yes, Imogene. I think I would too.”
They watched the creature stamp ponderously about the grounds on all fours, scraping the gravel into piles and blasting the little faux houses with blisteringly hot breath. The structures seemed to almost melt before it.
“Aaaargh!!” was all Ms. Angela was able to manage, as she clutched her own hair in shock and despair.
When the last of the outbuildings was razed to the ground, the stormy sky, as if on cue, burst into a heavy torrent that erupted into steam around the dragon.
As the rain poured down, it washed the ash from the air and the embers underground.
After the destruction was complete and the boggy plain wiped clean, the rain eased and the animal padded over to the entrance of the main building.
Rearing back on its hind legs, it beat the air with its powerful wings, lifted its chin, and shot a fountain of flame that punched a hole in the clouds.
Ms. Angela paused just one moment, then ran for the gate as fast as Katherine had seen anyone run in heels.
As she watched her flee, Katherine spotted a group of trolls by the gate…
with Melinda, who was waving her arms with characteristic zeal.
Her contraption was on the ground next to her, steaming gently, and Mr. Gneiss was…
laughing? His mossy ring of hair glistened from the recent rain and scattered raindrops like diamonds as he shook with laughter.
He stopped when Ms. Angela reached the open gate, which seemed to have been peeled off of its hinges.
“They’re destroying the mine!” Ms. Angela said, gasping for breath.
“Are they?” said Mr. Gneiss, not looking at her. He was idly rolling a piece of plop in one hand.
“They’ve destroyed my charm! The old codgers are revolting. There are dragons absolutely everywhere. Aren’t you going to do anything about it?”
Mr. Gneiss turned his twinkling eyes on her, and they deadened. “No.”
Ms. Angela shrank back as if struck. Without a word, she tore away from his penetrating glare and, without one look back at the rest home or the towering dragon, she fled.
The dragon rounded the corner of the rest home, drawing back from the front gate’s sightline.
Seemingly in satisfaction, it descended to its haunches and closed its eyes, then wrapped its entire body in its own wings.
Katherine and Mrs. Chrysler watched with open mouths as the creature shrank and morphed before them, until it stood quietly, still dazzling in a sunbeam, as a white-robed woman with eyes closed and hands folded.
She lifted her face, and smiled… sheepishly.
“I haven’t taken that form in over four hundred years.”
At first, Katherine could say nothing. Then, Mrs. Chrysler gave her a nudge. “Um. Your secret’s safe with us, Sister Agatha.”
Mrs. Chrysler cleared her throat and at last found her own voice. “That’s right. We’ve always been known for our discretion, Sister Agatha. Not to worry at all.”
The nun surveyed her handiwork. “At last, this will be wild dragon habitat again. Look.” The bleak landscape was still sizzling and steaming, but Katherine followed Sister Agatha’s gesturing hand to a patch of ground that was growing more colorful by the moment.
“The seeds have lain dormant all this time. Plants that need fire to sprout—dragon tongue and dragon’s foot and fireweed.
Tin-Whistle Todd can help them along.” She sighed with satisfaction.
“Saint Percival would be proud. She adored dragons.”
“Um, Sister Agatha,” Katherine said, doing some quick mental math, “please don’t think this impertinent, or disrespectful. But… did you… know Saint Percival?”
The old nun nodded gravely. “She gave me this gift.”
“To turn into a dragon?”
“No.” She shook her head. “A woman.”
The two longtime friends absorbed this new information. Well, Katherine thought, it explains a lot.
“If you could have done this all before…” Mrs. Chrysler said, gesturing at the wreckage, “why didn’t you?”
“How could I? This is Pim, where paperwork—not dragons—is king. The land wasn’t ours anymore, as far as anyone else was concerned. I couldn’t just do whatever I wanted. Thanks to you… we have it back.”
A modest and mildly embarrassed silence followed.
“So,” Mrs. Chrysler pried, “can the other sisters also…?” She made little wing motions with her hands.
“Oh, no,” Sister Agatha said dismissively. Katherine and Mrs. Chrysler waited, but no further explanation was given. “Well,” she said, regaining her composure, “time to get things sorted.” She dusted off her robe, straightened her belt of beads, and strode purposefully toward the main doors.
If that woman can’t sort things, Tilly said, still clinging invisibly to Katherine’s shoulders, no one can.