Mirabella the Magnificent and the Dragon

PRINCESS MIRABELLA WAS sprawled on the throne-room floor with her favorite jigsaw puzzle when the dragon arrived.

- Cheryl Mendenhall

“Princess,” the prime minister said, stepping carefully between the scattered puzzle pieces, “there’s a dragon at the gate.”

“Can’t the guards handle him?” Mirabella asked.

“The guards are hiding under the castle welcome mat,” the prime minister said. Mirabella sighed. She brushed off her jeans and wandered out to the courtyard. The dragon towered above her, a mountain of claws and spikes and shiny, green scales.

“May I help you?” Mirabella asked.

“Go away, little girl,” the dragon snapped. “I have a message for the important, big people.”

“The important, big people are all busy,” Princess Mirabella said. “You’ll have to give the message to me.”

“Oh, I’ll give it to you,” sneered the dragon. He threw back his head and shot a jet of flames into the air. “Cough up your gold,” he roared. “Or this castle is pot roast.”

Princess Mirabella cupped her hands under her chin. “Gold?” she said.

“Yellow stuff,” the dragon snapped. “Stuff that shines like the sun.”

“Oh, we have that,” Mirabella said. “I can show you.” So Mirabella the Magnificent laced up her hiking boots and led the dragon into the woods.

“Funny place to keep gold,” the dragon mumbled, his wings snagging on low-hanging branches.

“There.” Princess Mirabella pointed to a hole in a tree. The dragon narrowed his eyes and stretched his neck.

Beads of sunlight trickled down the bark. With a wicked grin, the dragon crammed his snout into the opening.