Dragons in Snow. Judy Hayman

gret daftie!” the twins’ dad said. Unlike his cubs, he had no time for Des, who had disturbed his fishing far too often. “Ye’d think he’ve learnt wha’ Humans can dae aefter young Ollie wuz ta’en. Want anither geme?”

      “Girls v boys?” said Emily, who had learnt that the twins’ mother was by far the best player. Sure enough, they won, and she felt more cheerful as they prepared to fly back to the cave. Tom was cheerful too, despite his defeat. He was enjoying all the applause for his new stane technique.

      “Where’s Dad?” he asked when they arrived.

      “He thought he’d risk a fly right down the glen,” said Gwen. “I think he’s hoping to find a few pigeons. He’s fed up with your complaints! I hope he won’t be much longer – it’ll be dark soon.”

      “I’ll go up to Ben’s head to see if he’s coming,” said Tom, flying off before anyone could object. He was gone a while, and Emily helped herself to some nettle tea to warm up while she told Gwen about the game, and Lottie’s suggestion that they should go to the big river with them. Her mother sighed.

      “Emily, you know why we can’t!” she said. “Remember what happened when you and Ollie were spotted at our old cave? It even got into Humans’ newspapers! They wouldn’t make a fuss about an otter family. We have to stay safe, and that means well hidden! Cheer up! Winter won’t last forever.” She gave her a sympathetic pat and went into the cave.

      “Feels like forever!” Emily muttered, finishing her tea.

      It was very late when Duncan arrived home, triumphantly carrying a large pheasant that he had found down the glen. “I think I heard Humans shooting in the distance,” he said, dropping it and getting his breath back. “They must have missed this one. It was a goner when I found it. Good eating!”

      “Nice change from crow!” said Tom, and was set to plucking the feathers off for being cheeky. Emily took the long tail feathers to decorate her private cave.

      “Bit risky, Duncan,” said Gwen quietly, while the children were busy.

      “I know, but I flew low and kept a close eye out. Easier when I’m alone. I’ll go back early tomorrow – there may be more lying around. We still need all we can find before we’re reduced to roots and berries! I can just about cope with bored kids, but bored and hungry...” He shook his head in mock despair and went to help Tom.

      Duncan had gone again by the time Emily and Tom emerged for a late breakfast the next morning. Tom was disappointed – he had wanted to go too – but the two of them set off for the loch as usual, looking forward to a return Tail-Stane match. To their dismay, there was no sign of the otters. They called, and even flew to the holt in the far bank where they knew the otters slept, but the only sign there had ever been an otter family there was some footprints in the frozen mud on the bank and fish bones on a nearby stone.

      “They’ve gone!” Emily felt like bursting into tears.

      “They wouldn’t have gone without saying goodbye!” Tom argued.

      “They wouldn’t have bothered coming all the way up to the cave just to say goodbye,” Emily argued. “We knew they were going. I just didn’t think it would be today.”

      They returned to their bank and gazed sadly at the pile of spare stones, but were too dejected to play by themselves. “Might as well go back,” said Tom, and Emily agreed.

      Back at the cave their mother listened sympathetically to the tale of the missing otters. “Why don’t you go down to your tree-house?” she suggested. “You haven’t been for ages, and you promised the others you’d keep an eye on it. Bits might need mending, and you must make sure it’s watertight in case we get snow.”

      “Suppose so,” said Emily, without much enthusiasm, and they took off to fly down to the wood beside the small loch. They found it had frozen right over, and they had a run-and-sliding race to the far end and back before flying to the tree-house, feeling a bit more cheerful.

      When they got there, they discovered that the bracken doorway had blown away and there were some patches of ice on the floor where the rain had dripped in, and even a few icicles hanging from the roof. “We could put more moss in those holes in the roof,” Emily said, and they flew to a nearby tree with a thick layer growing up its trunk, collected plenty and pushed it firmly into as many cracks as they could find.

      After Emily had climbed inside and reported no more daylight showing through the roof, they turned their attention to the open doorway. Tom suggested they replace the bracken with flat fir branches, and they worked together, finding a few on the ground, and cutting more from the tree until the doorway was full and much more watertight. They filled in the windows too, and then stood back to admire their work, feeling pleased with themselves.

      They were both on the landing branch, packing gorse twigs into the thinnest places of the new door, when Emily spotted Duncan flying through the trees towards them.

      “Well done!” he said, inspecting their work. “I thought you’d need help, but you’ve managed fine. I think that should last the winter. Good job you came down today. Have you seen the sky?” They had been so absorbed in the work that they hadn’t noticed that the wind was rising. For the last week of hard frost the air had been still and very cold, but suddenly they both realised that a change was happening. A strong wind was blowing from the north, and when they flew above the trees they saw a huge bank of dark grey cloud rising in that direction.

      “That means snow, for certain,” said Duncan. “I saw it coming on my way home, and came to fetch you. With this wind there could be a blizzard, and it’s easy to get lost. Let’s get going.”

      “Did you find another pheasant, Dad?” Tom asked hopefully as they started for home.

      “No, but I bagged some pigeons to keep Emily happy,” said Duncan. “Let’s hope we can get them cooked before it starts to snow!”

      They were just in time. The pigeons, threaded on sticks over the fire, were charring nicely when the first flakes of snow began to whirl in the air around them. They carried them inside the cave to eat. There was plenty to go round, and they finished with hot nettle tea and dried rowan berries as it grew dark. By this time the snow was falling thickly, the fire was hissing and dying and they decided that bed was the best place for all of them. Even Tom agreed that the snow would probably still be there in the morning as he took a final clawful of berries to eat in bed and disappeared into his private cave.

      Emily wished she had her bats to talk to as she snuggled into bed, but they were hibernating and she hadn’t seen them for weeks. Thinking to herself that perhaps bats had the right idea, she burrowed into her heather bed and lay for a long time, worrying. Had the otters reached the big river and found a place to shelter from the snow? Was it snowing at the castle? Was Des still there? Was Aunt Angelica driving them all mad? How would she and Tom get through the rest of the winter without fighting, especially if they were stuck in the cave; and would their food last if the snow went on and on... Finally she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion!

       Chapter 5

       Blizzards and Buzzards