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they did?
    This is a story about a boy on a terrifying mission. Ned is about to face the fiercest dragon of them all—and he will soon learn the answer to that awesome question.
    O n a summer day long ago, when birds as big as clouds flew the skies, a boy named Ned journeyed through leafy forests and over green, grassy hills. Ned carried only an apple in his knapsack and a crude, hand-drawn map of the kingdom.
    His peasant smock was sweat stained and wrinkled. His long brown hair fell in damp tangles from under the red cap tilted over his suntanned forehead. His brown laced boots were scuffed and scratched, the soles as thin as paper.
    As he walked, Ned whistled to keep himself company. The journey was long, and he had no idea of what terrible dangers he faced at journey’s end.
    As he neared his destination, Ned’s legs began to tremble, and chill after chill tightened the back of his neck. His mouth became too dry for whistling. He knew that soon he would be meeting Sir Darkwind, the greatest Dragon Master in the kingdom.
    Ned had long dreamed of this day. But now, through the trees, he heard the groans and bleats of the dragons in Sir Darkwind’s stable. And Ned wondered which would prove more fierce and menacing—the dragons or the Dragon Master?
    He pulled off his cap and mopped his forehead with the sleeve of his smock. “Courage,” he murmured to himself. “Be strong and brave. Or you will never reach your goal.”
    Taking a deep breath, Ned stepped out of the forest and stared at the Dragon Master’s house across a field of dirt and stones.
    Was it a house or a fortress?
    Built of white stone, it rose up like a gleaming mountain in the afternoon sun. Ned saw a narrow door at one end—the only opening. There were no windows!
    To the left of the house stretched a tall stone wall at least four times as tall as Ned. Ned gazed in amazement at the faces staring backat him from above the top of the wall.
    Broad creature faces on long, scaly, sun-wrinkled necks. Black eyes as big as plums, staring from deep sockets. Ancient, long-toothed faces, craggy and lined with wisdom—and sadness.
    Dragons.
    Up till now Ned had seen them only in the Sorcerer’s ancient books. Gazing at the amazing creatures, Ned remembered the Sorcerer’s stories of how the dragons had once moved freely around the kingdom.
    â€œThe dragons are a proud and wonderful species,” Margolin had said. “They have their own customs, their own habits. Do not be fooled into thinking they are like other animals. Their wisdom is as big as their size. Why are their eyes so sad? Because they have seen everything .”
    Now the old dragons curled their long necks over the stone wall and gazed at Ned in silence. He could hear the heavy thud of their feet as they shifted their weight. A pale-yellow dragon on the end coughed, a wet cough from deep in its throat.
    Their eyes are not welcoming, Ned thought. They gaze at me as if I’m their next meal. But dragons are not meat eaters—are they?
    Ned struggled to remember what the Sorcerer had told him. The old dragon coughed again, spewing yellow liquid over its craggy snout. Another dragon, slender faced with bulging black eyes, let out a long, menacing growl.
    Ned took a few timid steps closer to the stone fortress. The dragons tensed as he approached the wall.
    And then two dragons shot out their huge heads at him, roaring furiously. The sound was like thunder in his ears. The wall appeared to shake.
    With a frightened cry Ned fell onto his back. The dragons’ hotbreath swept over him. He turned on his stomach and frantically crawled away.
    The dragons’ heads swung low over the wall, stretching toward him, snapping furiously.
    When he was at a safe distance, Ned scrambled to his feet. He brushed the dust off his clothes and straightened his cap.
    The dragons stared at him in silence now. Waiting to see if he would approach again.
    But Ned