Dragon of the Red Dawn: A Merlin Mission

flowed from her mouth. The clouds spread across the sky. There was a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning. Then rain began to pour down on the city.
The dragon twisted her head this way and that. More clouds blew from her mouth, and more rain fell on the burning city of Edo.
As the dragon slithered through the sky, breathing out mountains of storm clouds, rain fell
    on the flat lands of the rice fields,
        on the Imperial Garden,
            the samurai castles,
                the fish market,
                        and the Great Bridge.

Rain fell on the floating world of inns and stages, teahouses, temples, and farms.
Rain fell on the lumberyard and the pine forest and the canals.
Slowly the rain washed away all the smoke and flames. Even after the fires of Edo no longer flickered, the Cloud Dragon breathed more black clouds, and the rain kept falling, falling steadily, soaking the gardens and fields, filling the shallow rivers and dried-up ponds.
“The fire’s out!” Jack shouted.
“Take us to Basho’s!” Annie yelled to the dragon.
The Cloud Dragon twisted her giant body. She slid through the dark clouds. Then she reared up—until Jack and Annie couldn’t hold on any longer and they were falling backward, somersaulting through the air!
SPLASH! SPLASH!
Jack sank to the bottom of the river. He flailed his arms and struggled to the surface. His headbobbed up—he spewed out water and gasped for air. He had lost his glasses. He dove back down and grabbed them from the river bottom, then swam back to the surface. Treading water, he wiped his glasses, then put them on.
“Hi!” Annie yelled. She was holding the wand in the air, above the water.
“Hi!” Jack yelled back.
Jack and Annie swam toward the bank of the river. They swam until their feet could touch bottom. Then they dragged themselves out of the water and collapsed on the muddy bank.
They had lost their socks and sandals. Their silk kimonos clung to their bodies. Dripping wet, they gasped for breath and looked up at the sky.
Big drops of rain splashed on their faces. There was no sign of the Cloud Dragon. But the cool rain kept falling, bathing the floating world of Edo.

“ W e did it!” said Annie. “We made our own magic!”
“Yeah, we got the Cloud Dragon to put out the fire,” breathed Jack. He felt dazed. “Do you think we’re near Basho’s house?”
“I think so,” said Annie. “We asked the Cloud Dragon to take us there, so I bet she did. Come on, let’s find Basho.”
Jack and Annie stood up and started walking along the edge of the river. They walked barefoot through the mud, under dripping trees.
“Hey, there’s the clearing,” said Annie.
Jack and Annie headed toward the clearing beyond the trees and tall grass.
“Oh, no!” cried Annie. “Look!”
In the clearing, rain was falling on the charred ruins of Basho’s house. The shingled roof and the bamboo walls of the little hut had burned and collapsed.
“Where’s Basho?” said Jack, scared.
“There!” said Annie.
The famous poet sat on a log next to his banana tree in the gray rain. His clothes were blackened. His face was covered with soot. He clutched his writing box.
“Basho!” yelled Annie.
Basho looked up. A smile crossed his dirty, weathered face. “I looked for you by the river, but didn’t see you!” he said. “I am glad you are safe.”
“We’re glad you’re safe, too,” said Jack.
“But your castle! Your castle burned down,” said Annie.
“Yes. It burned before the miracle of the rain,” said Basho, sighing.
Jack and Annie sat on the log next to him. Through the smoky drizzle, they all stared at the rubble. Trees and plants dripped with rain. A pigeon cooed.
For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Annie broke the silence. “I’m glad you still have your banana tree,” she said. “I like the sound of the rain falling on the leaves.”
Basho looked up, but didn’t say anything.
“Yeah, and I like the sound of the river,” said Jack. “It’s louder now since the rain came.”
Basho tilted his head as if listening to the rain on the leaves of the banana plant and to the steady rushing sounds of the river. His face softened. “Yes, I like those things, too,” he said. He held up his wooden box. “And I still have my poems.”
“Don’t worry, Basho,” said Annie. “Everything can be built again.”
“And your castle will be even more beautiful than