Read The First Dragon (Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica, The) for Free Online Page A

fashioned a small paper dragon. Then he knelt and looked at the ground around him until he finally spied what he was looking for in a patch of grass.
    Carefully he reached out and picked up the small black wasp by the body, and again, his fingers swiftly manipulated the folded paper.
    When he had finished, he held out his creation. There in his outstretched hand was a miniature Dragonship, with wings and, somehow, the living body and head of the wasp.
    The wings fluttered and caught air, and the tiny Wasp-Dragon took flight and disappeared into the trees.
    Argus turned to the astonished Caretakers. “Any questions?”
    No one moved, or spoke a word.
    “Good,” Argus said. “Can we go see the real Dragonship now? We’re old friends, and I’d like to say hello.”

. . . not all the aspects of the Dragon had been shed . . .

C hapter F OUR
Arête

    Verne led the group to the large south boathouse, where the Black Dragon had been housed—or rather, imprisoned—for many years, and was once more, but without the locks, chains, and magic wards that had made it a prison.
    The ship sat in the berth, rocking gently with the swells of water that rose and fell from the bay outside.
    “I never had quite the same knack for it that my master had,” Argus said as he examined the Black Dragon , perhaps rushing forward a little more eagerly than he’d wished to do in front of the Caretakers. “I could build the vessels, but he had the greater affinity for binding them with the beasts. And I just never cared as much as he about the Children of the Earth. No offense,” he added, looking down at Uncas.
    “None taken,” said the badger. “If you ever smelled what one of us is like when we gets wet, you’d have given up on th’ idea of letting us on boats altogether.”
    The Black Dragon seemed to rise up in the water at the shipbuilder’s touch, almost as if in recognition. This was an encouraging sign to the Caretakers, since, as a ship, only Burton had ever reallybeen able to handle it. But that was also before they learned who the Dragon had actually been before it became merged with the ship.
    “The wing plates were my favorite innovation,” Argus said as he ran his hands along the hull. “It was something I discussed with my friend Pelias back during our quest for the fleece, but I never quite worked out how to do it properly. Not until I put my hands on her.”
    “Him,” said Fred. “The Black Dragon is a he.”
    The shipbuilder chuckled. “I suppose it could be, little Child of the Earth,” he said, not taking his eyes or hands off the ship. “I never asked Mordred, and he never offered details. Although how he managed to tame such a fierce Dragon into willingly being bonded to a ship is beyond my understanding. I wasn’t given much choice in the matter myself.”
    John raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked at the other Caretakers. “He doesn’t know? He really doesn’t know who the Dragon is, or rather, was?” he whispered behind his hand. “Don’t you think we ought to tell him?”
    “Let it be, for the nonce,” said Bert. “We don’t even know if he can do as he says he can. I certainly never saw any proof of it when we met—we simply took him at his word. No need to complicate matters by bringing up old grudges. And besides,” he added, “if it does work, he’ll know the way the cows ate the cabbage soon enough.”
    “So,” Argus said, straightening himself and turning to look at the Caretakers. “What is it you ask of me?”
    “You told Quixote and Uncas that you built the Black Dragon ,” said Bert. “Now we need you to, uh, undo that which you hath done.”
    Houdini rolled his eyes. “We need the Dragon,” he said matter-of-factly, “separated from the ship. Can you do that?”
    Argus shrugged. “Of course.”
    “It seemed a simple enough thing to do with a wasp,” Houdini said, drawing up alongside the shipbuilder, “but this is a serious matter. Don’t say you can