Free Believing Is Seeing by Diana Wynne Jones Page B

Anne’s right leg, walking swiftly in single file, and Anne watched them in some alarm. She did not want them climbing over her lunch while she tried to eat it.
    â€œGo back,” she said. “The dragon’s going to be down by my right knee.”
    â€œWhat was that?” Marlene whispered nervously as she followed the other two up the slant of Anne’s thigh.
    â€œJust thunder. We’re always hearing it,” said Enna Hittims. “Don’t whinge, Marlene.”
    The three heroes stood in a row with their chins on the edge of the lunch tray.
    â€œWell, how about that!” said Enna Hittims. She pointed to the plate of macaroni cheese. “That hill of hot pipes—do you think it’s an installation of some kind?”
    â€œThere could be a baby dragon in each pipe,” Marlene suggested.
    â€œWhat are those shiny things?” Spike wondered, pointing at the knife, fork, and spoon.
    â€œSilver bars,” Enna Hittims said. “We’ll have to find an elephant and tow them away. This must be the dragon’s lair. But what’s that?”
    The three heroes stared at the bowl of stewed apple.
    â€œPale yellow slush,” said Spike, “with a sour smell. Dragon sick?”
    â€œIt could be some kind of gold mulch,” Marlene said doubtfully. She looked carefully across the tray, searching for some clue. Her eyes went on, up the hill of Anne’s body beyond. She jumped and clutched Spike’s sleeve. “Look!” she whispered. “Up there!”
    Spike looked. He turned quietly to Enna Hittims. “Look up, but don’t be too obvious about it,” he murmured. “Isn’t that a giant face up there?”
    Enna Hittims glanced up. She nodded. “Right. Very big and purple, with little, piggy eyes. It’s some kind of giant. We’ll have to kill it.”
    â€œNow look here—” Anne called out.
    But the three heroes took her voice for thunder, just as they always did. Enna Hittims went on briskly laying her plans. “Marlene and Spike, you go around the tableland, one on each side, and climb up its hair. Swing over when you’re above the nose and stab an eye each. I’ll go in over the middle and see if I can cut its fat throat.” Spike and Marlene nodded and raced away around the edges of the tray.
    Anne did not wait to see if the plan worked. She picked up the tray and pushed it on top of her bedside cupboard. Then she scrambled out of bed as fast as she could go. This of course changed the landscape completely, toppling all three heroes over and burying them under mountains of sheet and blanket. Anne hoped that had done for them. It ought to have done, since they were only part of her imagination.
    To give them time to smother, or vanish, or something, Anne went down to the kitchen and got herself a glass of milk. She looked for Tibby to give her some milk, too, but Tibby seemed to have gone out through her cat flap. She went back to her bedroom, hoping the heroes had gone.
    They were still there. Spike was up on her pillow, whirling his spike around his head on the end of a rope. He let it fly just as Anne came in, and it stuck firmly into the edge of the tray. It was a tin tray, but the spike was magic, of course, and would stick into anything Spike wanted it to. Spike, Enna Hittims, and Marlene all took hold of the rope and heaved. The tray slid. It tipped.
    â€œNo, stop!” Anne said weakly. She had not balanced the tray properly in her hurry.
    One end of the tray came down into the bed. Down slid the macaroni cheese, and down slid the stewed apple after it. The heroes saw it coming. They leaped expertly for safety up on the pillows. They were used to this kind of thing. While Anne was still staring at macaroni and apple soaking into her sheets, Spike was dashing down and rescuing his spike.
    Enna Hittims walked around the marsh of stewed apple and sliced at a macaroni tube with her sword.