Jonah and the Last Great Dragon by M E. Holley Page A

speak, everyone stared upwards as the enormous bulk of the dragon loomed again in the sky.
    Gazing down at Michael, who swept down to stand astride the roof ridge, the dragon rumbled. Jonah got a distinct impression that it was talking to the Archangel. Though the crackling noise of its breath made the words indistinct, Jonah thought he heard it say, ‘The sword gets heavier with the passing years, does it not, Michael?’
    Jonah gripped Erin’s arm in excitement. ‘Listen to that!’
    Erin looked confused. ‘What?’
    But Jonah had turned back to concentrate on what the dragon was saying. It swished its tail savagely, as it moved above the church.
    â€˜For a thousand years and more, you have locked me beneath the earth. Is it not enough? Can I not taste some freedom before you come back to my forest to fight me again? My forest, Michael. My land, not yours. My beautiful Wales.’
    Michael rose into the air until he was level with the dragon’s head. His hair blew about his face in the wind of its breath and he looked angry, as he began to speak. Jonah could just make out something that sounded like: ‘Ferny, Ferny, what have you done? You sent fire through the caverns and opened the eyes of the dwellers in the Underworld. Now the Night Creatures are loose, bringing Evil here.’
    The dragon let out a spurt of flame. ‘I awoke. That is all. Do not blame me if the demons seize an opportunity. We dragons do not deal with their kind.’
    The Archangel looked grim. ‘I do not come to kill you. But you must leave.’
    â€˜What?’ The dragon’s roar made all the villagers cringe.
    Saint Michael soared into the air and swept towards the creature. ‘More than a thousand years have passed, as you said. The world you knew has gone. The people here have never seen a dragon before. But they know of you, the Last Great Dragon of Wales. They place your image on their buildings; they think of you with pride.’
    The dragon cocked its head on one side and looked at the angel thoughtfully.
    â€˜They are proud of their Red Dragon, Ferny. Do not hurt them. Leave them in peace. Then you and I need not fight again.’
    â€˜We-ell...’ The dragon’s mood seemed to have softened. It moved lazily above the valley, lowering its head to peer down at the throng of people in the churchyard and the lane beyond. ‘But I am hungry,’ it said in a voice that sounded like roaring flames to the frightened people below. ‘Very hungry.’
    Michael gripped the sword. ‘No, Ferny. Do no evil here!’
    The dragon squeezed its eyes shut. Jonah thought it was amused. ‘Well, I’m too hungry to want to fight you. No Welshmen then. But there are some delicious-looking cattle down there.’
    Cattle! Oh, no! Without thinking, Jonah bolted forwards. Panicking, he yelled up at the dragon.
    â€˜No! No! Don’t kill the cattle. Please don’t! They’re my uncle’s.’ He had his head flung back, staring up at the dragon. ‘They’re prize Herefords!’ Oh, you idiot! As if the dragon would care about that. Then he had a brain-wave. ‘We can get you meat!’ he called. ‘We can get you all you want from the butcher’s shop.’
    Michael and the dragon hovered above the church, gazing down at him with surprise. Jonah felt surprised, himself.
    Appalled, even. He hadn’t thought about what he was going to say; the words had just spilled out. He wondered what would happen if nobody wanted to pay for meat for the dragon. What would happen if it ate everything in the butcher’s shop? Oh, Hell’s teeth, what had he done? He turned slowly round to look for Bryn and found everyone’s eyes on him. He noticed one of the villagers nudge another one and nod his head, smirking a bit. Jonah realised people thought he was crazy to shout at the dragon.
    But then, it circled and lost height, dropping down to the