The Dragon's Gold Read online

  Concetta ducked under the counter and emerged with a long box. She blew the dust off, making Lil blink, Echo sneeze and Gilbert scuttle down the neck of Echo’s shirt.

  ‘This,’ the woman went on as she opened the box with a flourish, ‘is an antique scimitar handcrafted by the goldsmiths of Pomegranth.’ She took out a curved sword so sharp it almost disappeared when she turned it in the light. ‘Here, try it.’ She offered the hilt to Lil.

  Lil shook her head. ‘I’m not here for a sword for myself,’ she said, although Echo noticed she cast a longing glance at the blade. Lil licked her lips. ‘Although I suppose it wouldn’t hurt just to try it.’

  ‘Precisely.’ Concetta grinned, revealing one diamond-studded incisor. ‘Put her through her paces.’

  Lil gave the scimitar an experimental swing, cutting the blade through the air with a swish. ‘So light,’ she said admiringly.

  ‘And only ninety doubloons.’

  Lil nodded slowly. ‘Thank you, but no,’ she said, carefully handing the scimitar back. ‘I’m here to buy a first sword for my daughter.’

  Echo stood up a little straighter, her eyes still fixed on the shining scimitar.

  ‘Your… Oh!’ Concetta looked at Echo, as if suddenly noticing her. ‘A first sword. What an honour! Let’s get you measured up then. I’m sure I have just the thing for you.’

  She scurried back behind the counter and returned with a battered brown leather suitcase, which she placed on the floor at Echo’s feet, before flicking open the brass clasps and opening it out. Inside, one half of the case was covered in dials and switches, while the other was empty and lined with soft brown velvet. There were two indents in the velvety surface like bootprints in mud.

  ‘Please step in,’ the red-haired woman said.

  Echo stared at the case. What in the seven skies was the woman going to do to her? She only wanted a cutlass. She swallowed and looked at Lil. ‘In there?’ she said, pointing at the indents.

  ‘Go on,’ said Lil. ‘I’m sure it’s quite safe. Concetta Custard’s been fitting sky pirates with their first cutlasses since before you were born. Although I have to admit,’ she said, ‘I haven’t seen this particular method before.’

  ‘Oh yes, it’s the latest technology. The Bivalve Aether-powered Fit-o-Matic 6000. Selects the perfect blade every time,’ said Concetta.

  Echo stepped into the foot-shaped indents and waited nervously while Concetta fiddled with the knobs and dials in the lid of the contraption. There was a whirring sound and Echo jumped as she felt the footbeds close gently round her feet, as if they were being gently squeezed by two giant hands. With a creak, something sprang out of the case behind her back and extended towards the ceiling. She looked up to find a huge brass claw opening above her.

  ‘Stand perfectly still,’ said Concetta. ‘Just taking a few measurements.’

  The claw opened and encircled Echo’s head with its splayed prongs, before gently grasping her skull. There was some more whirring. The red-haired woman muttered under her breath as she continued to flip switches and frown at the meter.

  ‘Stretch both arms out to the side,’ she said. ‘Like this.’ She spread both arms out like wings.

  Echo copied and couldn’t help giggling as the claw released her head and disappeared behind her. Now, two long brass arms popped out of a slot somewhere near the toes of her boots. They extended until they encircled her wrists. Then the machine bleeped, the arms slid back into the case with a clunk and Echo felt the footholds release their grip on her boots. There was a humming noise that vibrated right through the soles of her feet and a reel of printed paper came rattling out of an opening in the machine.

  Concetta pulled it free and put her glasses on to her nose to examine it.

  ‘Can I get out now?’ said Echo, eager to be free of the case.

  ‘Yes… yes…’ Concetta absent-mindedly waved her away, still absorbed in the printout from the Fit-o-Matic.

  ‘What does it say?’ asked Echo. What sort of sword would the machine have chosen for her? A vicious cutlass with a wolf-engraved hilt like Lil’s? Or maybe a smaller but no less deadly gleaming steel blade like Flora’s. Or perhaps even a chunky, yet razor-sharp machete, like the one Bulkhead sometimes carried in his belt.

  ‘Interesting,’ said Concetta. A smile broke out on her face and she looked at Echo with new enthusiasm. ‘An interesting prescription for an interesting sky pirate! It seems a lava-forged rapier is in order!’

  ‘A rapier?’ said Lil, frowning. ‘But that’s not much of a pirate sword.’

  ‘The Fit-o-Matic says it quite clearly.’ Concetta waved the printout at Lil.

  ‘Couldn’t you just measure her up in the usual fashion?’ Echo could hear the disappointment in Lil’s voice and her own stomach swirled.

  Concetta shook her head. ‘Afraid not. The Fit-o-Matic is always right and I have just the thing. Now, where is it…?’

  She took out a small, copper-riveted stepladder and cranked a handle on it until it extended upwards with a small hiss of steam. She climbed to the very top shelf, revealing buttoned black boots beneath her many layers of petticoats. After rooting around on the shelf, she finally found what she was looking for and returned with one of the long, slim boxes. It was disintegrating with age and covered in cobwebs.

  Gilbert emerged from Echo’s collar and cocked an inquisitive eye as Concetta opened the box, sending a family of spiders scurrying across the counter. She pulled out a short, straight sword about the length of Echo’s forearm and unsheathed it from its scabbard. It was a dull grey, skinny and perfectly straight with a pointed tip.

  Echo looked at the little mottled blade and her stomach grew heavy with disappointment. Even the Fit-o-Matic seemed to know she wasn’t much of a sky pirate.

  ‘Want to try her?’ Concetta said.

  Echo swallowed and nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking the hilt in her hand. The little sword was light and comfortable in her grip, despite its small size, and, to Echo’s surprise, it seemed to fit her hand perfectly. She waved the blade like Lil had, feeling silly as she didn’t know what to do, but the sword gave a pleasing zing as it cut through the air. Maybe this was the right sword for her after all?

  She smiled at Lil. ‘It doesn’t look like your cutlass.’

  ‘That’s because it’s not a cutlass,’ said Lil, taking the sword and examining it. ‘It’s a rapier. But it’s probably safer for a beginner.’

  ‘Her name’s Stinger,’ said Concetta. ‘Crafted by the famed swordsmiths of the Scrimshaw Volcano forges. And only seventy doubloons.’ She grinned. ‘What do you say?’

  Lil put Stinger back on the counter.

  Echo held her breath. ‘Mother?’

  Lil looked into her drawstring pouch and frowned. ‘I suppose there’s no chance of a discount. For old times’ sake?’ she asked.

  ‘Afraid not,’ said Concetta, with a firm smile.

  Lil emptied the contents of her purse on to the counter and counted out the last of the gold coins into seven neat piles. ‘Seventy doubloons it is.’

  Concetta sheathed the little sword and handed it to Echo. ‘Take good care of her and she’ll take good care of you.’

  ‘I will,’ said Echo, feeling the weight of the blade in her hands.

  Gilbert scuttled down her arm and flicked out his tongue, then cocked his head at Echo in a way that said, Impressive.

  ‘Come on,’ said Lil, tipping her hat at Concetta. ‘Let’s get back to the ship. I think you’re in need of some fighting lessons.’

  Echo hugged Stinger to her chest and followed Lil out, unable to stop herself from smiling. It might not be a cutlass, but it was still her very own sword. Perhaps she was a real sky pirate after all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Echo followed Lil down the cramped corridors of the Scarlet Margaret to the armoury. Lil had allowed Horace to come too and, although he hadn’t really wanted to (being somewhat allergic to fighting lessons), Echo’s pleading had finally
persuaded him to tear himself away from the beetle books he’d been reading and join her.

  They stopped at the end of a dimly lit corridor. Lil took a large key out of her pocket and unlocked the copper-clad door.

  ‘Welcome to the armoury,’ she said. ‘Flora will take things from here.’

  ‘Flora?’ Echo frowned in confusion and turned to see the younger girl had appeared behind them. ‘But I thought you were teaching us to fight?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. I have my captain’s duties to attend to. We need to sell off some of the emergency booty. There’s no gold left in the coffers and we have to buy supplies before we leave for Trombones.’

  ‘But… but she’s not even a grown-up!’ Echo scowled.

  ‘Flora is known for her fast footwork and excellent swordsmanship,’ said Lil. She turned to Flora. ‘Make sure they work hard.’ Lil patted Echo brusquely on the shoulder and marched back up the corridor, the key still swinging from her fingers.

  Echo gazed after her, squashing down the disappointment so that Flora didn’t see. She’d barely spent any time with Lil for weeks. And how could Flora teach her anything? Echo was older than her! She folded her arms and glared at the younger girl’s back as she swung the door open in front of them.

  ‘Coming?’ Flora looked round quizzically at Echo.

  ‘Of course.’ Echo forced a smile on to her face. She would just have to get this lesson over and done with and find an opportunity to show Lil her skills later.

  Inside, the armoury was so gloomy Echo that could barely make anything out.

  ‘Shall I fetch a lamp?’ asked Horace.

  ‘No!’ Flora snapped. ‘No naked flames in the armoury. There’s so much gunpowder in here the whole airship might go up!’ She took down a jar that was hanging from a hook on the wall and gave it a shake. Immediately, it lit up with an eerie greenish glow. ‘In the armoury, we use glowbugs.’

  ‘Glowbugs?’ Horace stepped forward, all feelings of trepidation forgotten. ‘Are they really…’ He peered into the jar. ‘Why, yes, they are! How fascinating!’

  Gilbert emerged from Echo’s pocket and leaped on to the wall, climbing with his sticky toes until he reached the jar. He butted it gently with his snout and stared at the little bug crawling around inside.

  ‘They’re not for eating.’ Flora grinned. ‘Why don’t you two wake the rest of ’em up while I get the cutlasses ready?’

  Echo and Horace circled the room, gently shaking the jars and waking the little creatures, until the whole room was filled with light. Now Echo could see rows and rows of cutlasses gleaming on one wall, an array of flintlock pistols on another and, in one corner, a huge rack of cannonballs. Barrels of gunpowder were stacked to the rafters in another corner.

  Echo hugged herself with excitement. She was going to be a real sky pirate! A fighter! ‘Just look at all these weapons!’ she whispered to Horace.

  Horace swallowed. ‘They look sharp.’

  ‘They are sharp,’ said Flora. ‘Sharpest set of cutlasses in all the seven skies.’

  The seven skies. Echo suddenly thought back to the postal parrot’s message about the Seven Skies Alliance. She cleared her throat and leaned casually on a barrel. ‘Do you know anything about the Seven Skies Alliance, Flora?’ she asked.

  ‘Never ’eard of it,’ said Flora, opening a large wooden chest. ‘All I know is there are seven sky-pirate clans – us, the Scurvy Sea Snakes, the Darkhearts, the Pitiless Plunderers, the Heartless Violet Pilots, the Stormshakers and the Thunder Sharks, of course. They’re the absolute worst!’

  ‘Why?’ Echo’s eyes grew wide.

  Flora’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘They say their leader, Old Gus, keeps a shark tank in the hold of their ship. And if someone crosses him… he feeds ’em to the sharks!’

  Horace gulped loudly.

  Gilbert’s scales turned white and he hid his face in the collar of Echo’s shirt.

  ‘Anyway, both of yer take one of these,’ Flora said brightly, reaching into the chest. She held out two blunt, stubby swords made of a waxy yellowish wood.

  ‘Thanks.’ Horace stepped forward and took his.

  But Echo couldn’t stop the feeling of disappointment that flooded through her. These were children’s swords! Was Flora mocking her again?

  ‘Why can’t I use Stinger?’ she asked.

  Flora grinned gappily. ‘Master these, then yer’ll be ready for Stinger.’

  ‘But they’re for babies!’

  ‘They’re for novices. Everyone has to start somewhere.’ Flora held out the wooden sword. ‘Here.’

  Echo frowned and took it. Did Flora think she couldn’t handle a real cutlass? She felt her cheeks flush with shame. Did Lil? As Flora turned away to open another chest, Echo swiped the sword clumsily through the air and winced at the disappointingly un-swishy sound it made.

  Horace turned to her. ‘Well, I’m glad we’re only using practice blades. I was worried she was going to make us fight with real ones!’

  Echo scowled in response and turned to see Flora wheeling over a strange, headless robot with two blunt swords for arms. Great, so they weren’t even going to be fighting a real person.

  ‘Meet yer swordsmanship tutor, the Swashbucklatron,’ Flora said. She pressed a button on the robot’s shoulder and, with a clank, it began to jab and parry blows at them.

  Horace leaped back, clutching his sword to his chest in terror.

  Echo made a running attack, but the Swashbucklatron blocked her blow and she tumbled to the floor, landing awkwardly on one elbow.

  ‘Not so fast, Echo.’ Flora chuckled and Echo flushed in annoyance.

  Flora hauled her to her feet. ‘Let me demonstrate first.’ She took a cutlass with a golden hilt encrusted with emeralds from the wall and turned to face the robot. The Swashbucklatron swished its blades and Flora retreated for a moment, then darted forward and, with a quick wrist-flick, disarmed it of both its swords. They clattered to the floor and the robot gave a dismal bleep.

  Echo narrowed her eyes. Flora must be cheating somehow. How had she managed that?

  ‘It’s all about knowing when to attack and when to retreat,’ said Flora brightly, replacing the cutlass in its rack. She scooped up the robot’s blades and reattached them. ‘Have another go.’

  ‘Fine.’ Echo faced the Swashbucklatron again, imagining it was Flora she was about to attack. But, however hard she tried, Echo couldn’t disarm even one of the robot’s blades. It was hot work and, by the time the lesson was finished, her shirt was soaked through with sweat, her palm was sore and blistered and her cheeks were scarlet with irritation.

  ‘Good effort, both of yer,’ said Flora, when they’d finally finished.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Horace, wiping the sweat from his forehead. ‘It’s much harder than it looks, right, Echo?’

  Echo nodded, too cross and tired to speak. She needed to practise, but by herself, without Flora sniggering at her. She wiped her hands on her breeches. ‘When’s our next lesson?’ she asked. As much as she’d hated the Swashbucklatron, she needed to master the wooden sword so Lil would let her have Stinger.

  ‘I have a new task for yer before you’re ready for yer next lesson,’ said Flora. ‘Down on the beach.’

  Horace looked nervously at Echo. ‘We’re not going to have to fight each other, are we?’

  ‘No fighting,’ said Flora. ‘This is an exercise in stealth. Have you ever noticed those little blue crabs?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Echo, wrinkling her brow in confusion. What did crabs have to do with sword fighting?

  ‘I’ve seen them too,’ said Horace. ‘I wanted to get a closer look, but when we walked past they all scuttled into their holes and hid.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Flora said. ‘Those crabs are always on the alert. They’re observant. It’s almost impossible to sneak up on ’em.’ She looked at them. ‘Almost but not completely.’

  ‘But I don’t see what this has got to do with learning to use my sword,’ said Echo. />
  ‘If yer can tap three crabs on the top of their shell with the tip of yer blade, then you’re ready for yer next lesson,’ said Flora. ‘You too, Horace.’

  ‘But…’ said Echo. ‘That’s ridiculous! This isn’t going to teach me anything at all!’

  ‘So you’re saying you can already do it?’ Flora raised one eyebrow.

  Echo swallowed. ‘No.’

  ‘Off yer go then.’ Flora turned away to wheel the Swashbucklatron back to its storage chest, leaving Echo staring, open-mouthed and furious, the silly wooden sword still clutched in one hand.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Echo’s mood hadn’t improved by the time they returned from the beach.

  ‘What’s the matter, Echo?’ asked Horace, taking in her sullen face as she stomped below decks after supper. ‘Crab-catching was fun!’

  ‘I don’t want to have fun,’ snapped Echo. ‘I want to learn to be a sky pirate. A proper sky pirate. And I don’t see how messing about with crustaceans is going to help me.’

  ‘Flora knows what she’s doing,’ said Horace. ‘Maybe she has her reasons.’

  ‘Or maybe she’s just trying to make me look like a fool,’ said Echo. ‘I swear those crabs were laughing at us.’ She sighed. She really needed to talk to Lil about the lessons. Maybe if she explained the ridiculous task Flora had set them, her mother would agree to teach them herself? But Lil had been holed away in the captain’s quarters, too busy with ‘important matters’ to be disturbed. She hadn’t even joined the rest of the crew for supper.

  As they passed Lil’s cabin, Gilbert gave a soft chirrup and cocked his head.

  ‘What is it?’ Echo stopped to listen. Hushed voices were coming from Lil’s cabin. Echo signalled to Horace to be quiet, crept forward and put her ear to the door.

  ‘It’s too dangerous.’ It was a man’s voice – Bulkhead’s, Echo realized.

  Lil replied in an irritated whisper. ‘I have no choice. I can’t ignore it.’