The Last Dragon Chronicles: Fire World: Fire World by Chris D'Lacey Page B

back at a picture of a roaring dragon.
    “What   are   those horrible things?” Rosa asked.
    “Good question,” said Strømberg. “No one really knows.”
    “Then why have we got books about them?”
    Mr Henry joined them at the table. He took off his spex and polished them on the

    corner of his jacket. “Thorren, are you sure it’s right for her to hear this?”
    Thorren Strømberg merely said, “Do you know what a ‘myth’ is, Rosa?”
    “Sort of,” she replied. She remembered Aunt Gwyneth using the word just before her chilling warning:   You are never to touch this book again   . Part of her was willing to accept the Aunt’s caution. The roughness and terrifying size of the creatures (compared to the mountainous landscape they were pictured in) really did frighten her. But they were strangely compelling, too.
    “It’s a word we use to describe a phenomenon that has no foundation or basis in truth, and yet is somehow strong enough to survive in our consciousness.”
    “It’s not in mine,” said Rosa, nodding at

    the dragon.
    “Yes it is,” said Strømberg. “It’s merely been suppressed.”
    Mr Henry rubbed a hand across his forehead and sighed.
    “Charles,  bring  me  something  on Zo:ology, would you?”
    “No, Thorren. She’s not ready for that.”
    “Animals, Charles.”
    “Are you insane?” The old man looked up sternly. “She’ll be in the boy’s state before you know it.” He jutted a finger at David.
    For a moment, there was stalemate. Rosa, unsure of what to do, remainedquiet. Everything seemed to rest with Mr Henry. Finally, the curator scraped backhis chair and again struck one of thepanels between the shelves. It opened on a

    dark, cubicle-shaped cupboard. Inside the cupboard was a small book, hardly any bigger than a man’s hand. Mr Henry brought it over and placed it on the table.   A Comprehensive Field Guide to Small Mammals .
    Strømberg picked it up and flicked through a few pages. They were stiff and difficult to hold in place. He found what he was looking for and showed it to the girl.
    “A katt?” she said. “It looks a bit fierce. Why are the letters wrong?”
    “It’s a wild cat,” said Strømberg, “and the spelling is correct. Try this.” He flipped to another page. There was an image of the most extraordinary little creature Rosa had ever seen. It had fur
    like a katt, but its hairs were just a series

    of short grey spikes. Two slightly bulging eyes were positioned on the sides of its mischievous-looking face. It was sitting upright, on the branch of a tree, balanced by a bushy tail that curled right over its back.
    “That’s a squirrel,” said Strømberg.
    Rosa shook her head, confused.
    “One more,” he said, “then this goes away.” And he showed her a picture of something long and sleek on the bank of a river. The book labelled it an ‘otter’.
    “Thorren, that’s enough,” Mr Henry said grimly. He took the book out of Strømberg’s hands and dropped it into his pocket.
    Strømberg leaned back against his chair and said, “All the creatures in that book existed once, Rosa, including the habitats

    you saw them in.”
    “They’re beautiful,” she said. “What happened to them?”
    “They died out – as our fain evolved.”
    “How? Why?”
    “That’s a mystery many people have tried to unravel, me included. We have physical evidence, in a place called the Dead Lands, that squirrels, cats, otters and thousands more species like them once roamed Co:pern:ica. But they’re not there now. Interestingly, there is nothing to suggest that dragons were   ever   among us, except for precious books like these. Yet I can tell you, without exception, they are in the auma of every child I have ever counselled. Somehow, even though we’re not aware of it, we collectively believe in dragons and no one, not even an Aunt, can

    say why.”
    Rosa shuddered and turned