Terry Lou - under the dragon's wing. "Under the Dragon's Wing" by Terry Lou Terry Lou Under the Dragon's Wing read online

Anna-Victoria Elli - for the wonderful visualization of the characters.

And also brings special gratitude to Tatyana Kormukhina for her invaluable help as a beta, ideologist and loyal friend.

IN WHICH I MEET THE MONSTER

Let me look into the shameless eyes of a person who dares to claim that being sick is unpleasant.

Of course, we are not talking about mumps or scabies. Walking around with a face that looks like a boiled bean, or constantly scratching yourself in all places is still a pleasure.

But what could be more wonderful than a slight cold? When the thermometer shows no more than thirty-seven and nothing worries you except a slightly sore throat. And still, your grandmother, clucking like a hen, rushes around you with hot water bottles and all kinds of teas, and your mother strictly says: “Today you are not going anywhere!” - as if it could upset you.

And then you lie in bed all day, eat all sorts of goodies, like homemade cabbage pie and open (especially for you!) raspberry jam, play the PlayStation and from time to time, with sympathy and just a little gloating, you remember your classmates. Surely right now, in this blissful moment, when you are dealing with a monster with a spectacular blow, the poor fellows are forced to write an algebra test or, even worse, a chemistry laboratory test...

In a word, babble!

Alas, with my health as a Tibetan monk, I could only dream of such happiness. Both mother and grandmother had long ago detected all the manipulations with the thermometer (okay, admit it, who among you hasn’t heated it by rubbing it on a blanket?) and any attempts at sabotage were nipped in the bud.

So today, sitting during a long break in the school cafeteria, I could only indulge in fruitless dreams, simultaneously reflecting on yet another life paradox, discovered quite recently and tormenting my mind for several minutes now...

* * *

“The more cheese, the more holes.”

The statement, no matter how you look at it, is correct. You could say it's an axiom.

I turned the sandwich over in my hands. The cheese around the edges was slightly melted and covered with droplets of fat.

But the more holes, the less cheese?

Can't argue with that either.

Frowning, I scratched the tip of my nose.

So, it turns out that the more cheese, the less cheese?

Hey, did you fall asleep?

Someone pushed me painfully on the shoulder. This malicious “someone” was none other than my friend - a healthy guy beyond his years with straw hair and the outlandish name Justin.

All clear! - I said, shoving my friend back. - Cheese is a fractal!

What? - Justin gaped.

“Yes, it’s nothing,” I sighed, putting the sandwich aside and once again coming to the conclusion that the world is full of amazing mysteries.

You will not? - the friend perked up.

“Gobble it up,” I said graciously. - And where does it get into you...

While Jas devoured the coveted delicacy at cosmic speed, I watched a flock of sparrows fight for a piece of bread crumbled on the windowsill.

My own life seemed dull and hopeless to me.

The reason for this was not the disgusting weather, which had been pestering us for a week with dazzling sun, heat and unbearably stale air. And not even chemistry, anxiously waiting for me in the next lesson, like a fat chaperone in a four-poster bed - her skinny gigolo. And there was certainly no sin behind Justin, whose face now resembled the muzzle of a chewing hamster.

Life was just dull and hopeless. Without any reason, by definition.

You might say that depression is normal for a teenager. Especially if he has skinny knees, a flat chest, and of all his talents, his only talent is to accurately spit paper balls at the board. Our school psychologist is of the same opinion, so yesterday I was solemnly prescribed antidepressants. Of course, I didn’t even touch them. Everyone knows that trusting school doctors is like putting your head in the mouth of an alligator and telling him not to bite.

Justin leaned back in his chair and stroked his stomach satiatedly.

Thank you, you saved me from starvation,” he said soulfully.

I was tempted to make a sarcastic comment about the width of his face and its potential risk of cracking due to excessive “starvation,” but I restrained myself.

Jas transferred to our school relatively recently - a few months ago. He spent his entire adult life in America (although his Russian-speaking parents put a good knowledge of the language into his unlucky head), so he was the happy owner of a sonorous name and behavior that was completely inadequate for Russian schoolchildren. Which alienated almost all of my classmates, with the exception of me and a handful of phlegmatic nerds.

However, I have always been famous for my eccentricity in choosing friends.

Take Pashka Krasavin, who used to conduct excavations in his own ears during breaks and claimed that even as a child, aliens had installed nanorobots in his head, so his earwax has an unusual shade and is of great scientific value. It’s a pity that two months ago his family had to move to another city.

But let's return to Justin, whose last name, to my shame, I could not remember.

Next to him, I felt like the owner of a huge, good-natured and not very smart dog, which brought strange pleasure. I even began to think about purchasing a collar and a rubber bone... So far, I had to pay for the sincere puppy adoration with sandwiches. It’s probably not even worth mentioning that neither Justin nor I felt any attraction to each other.

At first, he generally mistook me for a boy, like many other newcomers to our school.

I could probably tell you about myself, but I don’t see any point in that. Two minutes of narration about a string of monotonous days, about a school that is not a single molecule different from thousands of others, about my parents who adore me and the fat cat Mephistopheles - and you will simply snore incompetently.

“Fox, recess is over,” Justin said, looking into his eyes devotedly.

Lost in thoughts, I did not notice how the bell rang.

Actually, my name is Katya. But in our school, getting a nickname is as easy as getting a bad mark or a black eye - you just need to be at least a little different from the rest. So the fiery red hair, inherited from my dad, provided me with not the happiest childhood, a desperate hatred of carrots and many nicknames, the last of which was the most harmless. The same Justin was called Hamburger by his classmates, though behind his back. Still, he was quite large for his fifteen years.

There was almost no one in the dining room anymore.

The barmaid, grabbing a tray of unsold pies, went into the kitchen. I threw my bag over my shoulder, pulled up my loose jeans and trudged towards the exit, thinking that at this particular moment in my life an unusual event could bring at least some meaning to it. Any. For example, a small local earthquake that destroyed half of the school - the same one where the chemistry and psychologist office is located... Or an attack by terrorists, Satanists, Baptists - or anyone, crush me with a ciliate slipper! Gunfire, furious cries of “Allahu Akbar!”, militants in arafats and suspicious types in black robes, spray-painting a pentagram in the director’s office... Here it is, the secret dream of any average schoolchild! You can trust me.

Justin, who had hesitated, caught up with me and was now breathing heavily in his back; our shared textbooks, half a kilogram of apples, which he methodically destroyed during all breaks, two cans of cola and a nibbled chocolate bar were stuffed into his bag.

Okay, come on, these earthquakes and terrorists are banal, by God. Let it be... a tyrannosaurus, for sure! I imagined Godzilla, as tall as a five-story building, sweeping away half of the school yard with his spiked tail, along with trees, garbage cans, screaming students in sports uniforms and a physical education teacher. My soul became warmer.

I pulled the heavy door of the dining room towards myself, smiling at my own bloodthirsty thoughts, when a deafening roar forced me to release the door handle.

Justin shouted. He screamed and then fell silent, as if someone had covered his mouth.

Slowly, as if wading through thick water, I turned my head...

In the wall, in the place where a second ago there had been a window with a flock of fighting sparrows, there was a huge hole.

Anna-Victoria Elli - for the wonderful visualization of the characters.

And also brings special gratitude to Tatyana Kormukhina for her invaluable help as a beta, ideologist and loyal friend.

IN WHICH I MEET THE MONSTER

Let me look into the shameless eyes of a person who dares to claim that being sick is unpleasant.

Of course, we are not talking about mumps or scabies. Walking around with a face that looks like a boiled bean, or constantly scratching yourself in all places is still a pleasure.

But what could be more wonderful than a slight cold? When the thermometer shows no more than thirty-seven and nothing worries you except a slightly sore throat. And still, your grandmother, clucking like a hen, rushes around you with hot water bottles and all kinds of teas, and your mother strictly says: “Today you are not going anywhere!” - as if it could upset you.

And then you lie in bed all day, eat all sorts of goodies, like homemade cabbage pie and open (especially for you!) raspberry jam, play the PlayStation and from time to time, with sympathy and just a little gloating, you remember your classmates. Surely right now, in this blissful moment, when you are dealing with a monster with a spectacular blow, the poor fellows are forced to write an algebra test or, even worse, a chemistry laboratory test...

In a word, babble!

Alas, with my health as a Tibetan monk, I could only dream of such happiness. Both mother and grandmother had long ago detected all the manipulations with the thermometer (okay, admit it, who among you hasn’t heated it by rubbing it on a blanket?) and any attempts at sabotage were nipped in the bud.

So today, sitting during a long break in the school cafeteria, I could only indulge in fruitless dreams, simultaneously reflecting on yet another life paradox, discovered quite recently and tormenting my mind for several minutes now...

“The more cheese, the more holes.”

The statement, no matter how you look at it, is correct. You could say it's an axiom.

I turned the sandwich over in my hands. The cheese around the edges was slightly melted and covered with droplets of fat.

But the more holes, the less cheese?

Can't argue with that either.

Frowning, I scratched the tip of my nose.

So, it turns out that the more cheese, the less cheese?

Hey, did you fall asleep?

Someone pushed me painfully on the shoulder. This malicious “someone” was none other than my friend - a healthy guy beyond his years with straw hair and the outlandish name Justin.

All clear! - I said, shoving my friend back. - Cheese is a fractal!

What? - Justin gaped.

“Yes, it’s nothing,” I sighed, putting the sandwich aside and once again coming to the conclusion that the world is full of amazing mysteries.

You will not? - the friend perked up.

“Gobble it up,” I said graciously. - And where does it get into you...

While Jas devoured the coveted delicacy at cosmic speed, I watched a flock of sparrows fight for a piece of bread crumbled on the windowsill.

My own life seemed dull and hopeless to me.

The reason for this was not the disgusting weather, which had been pestering us for a week with dazzling sun, heat and unbearably stale air. And not even chemistry, anxiously waiting for me in the next lesson, like a fat chaperone in a four-poster bed - her skinny gigolo. And there was certainly no sin behind Justin, whose face now resembled the muzzle of a chewing hamster.

Life was just dull and hopeless. Without any reason, by definition.

You might say that depression is normal for a teenager. Especially if he has skinny knees, a flat chest, and of all his talents, his only talent is to accurately spit paper balls at the board. Our school psychologist is of the same opinion, so yesterday I was solemnly prescribed antidepressants. Of course, I didn’t even touch them. Everyone knows that trusting school doctors is like putting your head in the mouth of an alligator and telling him not to bite.

Justin leaned back in his chair and stroked his stomach satiatedly.

Thank you, you saved me from starvation,” he said soulfully.

I was tempted to make a sarcastic comment about the width of his face and its potential risk of cracking due to excessive “starvation,” but I restrained myself.

Jas transferred to our school relatively recently - a few months ago. He spent his entire adult life in America (although his Russian-speaking parents put a good knowledge of the language into his unlucky head), so he was the happy owner of a sonorous name and behavior that was completely inadequate for Russian schoolchildren. Which alienated almost all of my classmates, with the exception of me and a handful of phlegmatic nerds.

However, I have always been famous for my eccentricity in choosing friends.

Take Pashka Krasavin, who used to conduct excavations in his own ears during breaks and claimed that even as a child, aliens had installed nanorobots in his head, so his earwax has an unusual shade and is of great scientific value. It’s a pity that two months ago his family had to move to another city.

But let's return to Justin, whose last name, to my shame, I could not remember.

Next to him, I felt like the owner of a huge, good-natured and not very smart dog, which brought strange pleasure. I even began to think about purchasing a collar and a rubber bone... So far, I had to pay for the sincere puppy adoration with sandwiches. It’s probably not even worth mentioning that neither Justin nor I felt any attraction to each other.

At first, he generally mistook me for a boy, like many other newcomers to our school.

I could probably tell you about myself, but I don’t see any point in that. Two minutes of narration about a string of monotonous days, about a school that is not a single molecule different from thousands of others, about my parents who adore me and the fat cat Mephistopheles - and you will simply snore incompetently.

“Fox, recess is over,” Justin said, looking into his eyes devotedly.

Lost in thoughts, I did not notice how the bell rang.

Actually, my name is Katya. But in our school, getting a nickname is as easy as getting a bad mark or a black eye - you just need to be at least a little different from the rest. So the fiery red hair, inherited from my dad, provided me with not the happiest childhood, a desperate hatred of carrots and many nicknames, the last of which was the most harmless. The same Justin was called Hamburger by his classmates, though behind his back. Still, he was quite large for his fifteen years.

There was almost no one in the dining room anymore.

The barmaid, grabbing a tray of unsold pies, went into the kitchen. I threw my bag over my shoulder, pulled up my loose jeans and trudged towards the exit, thinking that at this particular moment in my life an unusual event could bring at least some meaning to it. Any. For example, a small local earthquake that destroyed half of the school - the same one where the chemistry and psychologist office is located... Or an attack by terrorists, Satanists, Baptists - or anyone, crush me with a ciliate slipper! Gunfire, furious cries of “Allahu Akbar!”, militants in arafats and suspicious types in black robes, spray-painting a pentagram in the director’s office... Here it is, the secret dream of any average schoolchild! You can trust me.

Justin, who had hesitated, caught up with me and was now breathing heavily in his back; our shared textbooks, half a kilogram of apples, which he methodically destroyed during all breaks, two cans of cola and a nibbled chocolate bar were stuffed into his bag.

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their parents - for their constant faith and support;

readers (Natalia Suvorov, Alena Prokhorov, Polina Markin, Olesya Vangeli, Maria Gatina and others) - for inspiration;

Anna-Victoria Elli - for the wonderful visualization of the characters.

And also brings special gratitude to Tatyana Kormukhina for her invaluable help as a beta, ideologist and loyal friend.

Any use of the material in this book, in whole or in part, without the permission of the copyright holder is prohibited.

© AST Publishing House LLC

Part 1

Chapter 1,
In which I meet a monster

Let me look into the shameless eyes of a person who dares to claim that being sick is unpleasant.

Of course, we are not talking about mumps or scabies. Walking around with a face that looks like a boiled bean or constantly scratching yourself in all places is still a pleasure.

But what could be more wonderful than a slight cold? When the thermometer shows no more than thirty-seven and nothing worries you except a slightly sore throat. And still, your grandmother, clucking like a hen, rushes around you with hot water bottles and all kinds of teas, and your mother strictly says: “Today you are not going anywhere!” - as if it could upset you.

And then you lie in bed all day, eat all sorts of goodies, like homemade cabbage pie and open (especially for you!) raspberry jam, play the PlayStation and from time to time, with sympathy and just a little gloating, you remember your classmates. Surely right now, in this blissful moment, when you are dealing with a monster with a spectacular blow, the poor fellows are forced to write an algebra test or, even worse, a chemistry laboratory test...

In a word, babble!

Alas, with my health as a Tibetan monk, I could only dream of such happiness. Both mother and grandmother had long ago detected all the manipulations with the thermometer (okay, admit it, who among you hasn’t heated it by rubbing it on a blanket?) and any attempts at sabotage were nipped in the bud.

So today, sitting during a long break in the school cafeteria, I could only indulge in fruitless dreams, simultaneously reflecting on yet another life paradox, discovered quite recently and tormenting my mind for several minutes now...

* * *

“The more cheese, the more holes.”

The statement, no matter how you look at it, is correct. You could say it's an axiom.

I turned the sandwich over in my hands. The cheese around the edges was slightly melted and covered with droplets of fat.

But the more holes, the less cheese?

Can't argue with that either.

Frowning, I scratched the tip of my nose.

So, it turns out that the more cheese, the less cheese?

- Hey, did you fall asleep?

Someone pushed me painfully on the shoulder. This malicious “someone” was none other than my friend - a healthy guy beyond his years with straw hair and the outlandish name Justin.

- All clear! – I said, shoving my friend back. – Cheese is a fractal!

- What? – Justin gaped.

“Yes, it’s nothing,” I sighed, putting the sandwich aside and once again coming to the conclusion that the world is full of amazing mysteries.

- You will not? - the friend perked up.

“Gobble it up,” I said graciously. - And where does it get into you...

While Jas devoured the coveted delicacy at cosmic speed, I watched a flock of sparrows fight for a piece of bread crumbled on the windowsill.

My own life seemed dull and hopeless to me.

The reason for this was not the disgusting weather, which had been pestering us for a week with dazzling sun, heat and unbearably stale air. And not even chemistry, anxiously waiting for me in the next lesson, like a fat chaperone in a four-poster bed - her skinny gigolo. And there was certainly no sin behind Justin, whose face now resembled the muzzle of a chewing hamster.

Life was just dull and hopeless. Without any reason, by definition.

You might say that depression is normal for a teenager. Especially if he has skinny knees, a flat chest, and of all his talents, only one skill - to accurately spit paper balls at the board. Our school psychologist is of the same opinion, so yesterday I was solemnly prescribed antidepressants. Of course, I didn’t even touch them. Everyone knows that trusting school doctors is like putting your head in the mouth of an alligator and telling him not to bite.

Justin leaned back in his chair and stroked his stomach satiatedly.

“Thank you, you saved me from starvation,” he said soulfully.

I was tempted to make a sarcastic comment about the width of his face and its potential risk of cracking due to excessive “starvation,” but I restrained myself.

Jas transferred to our school relatively recently - a few months ago. He spent his entire adult life in America (although his Russian-speaking parents put a good knowledge of the language into his unlucky head), so he was the happy owner of a sonorous name and behavior that was completely inadequate for Russian schoolchildren. Which alienated almost all of my classmates, with the exception of me and a handful of phlegmatic nerds.

However, I have always been famous for my eccentricity in choosing friends.

Take Pashka Krasavin, who used to conduct excavations in his own ears during breaks and claimed that even as a child, aliens had installed nanorobots in his head, so his earwax has an unusual shade and is of great scientific value. It’s a pity that two months ago his family had to move to another city.

But let's return to Justin, whose last name, to my shame, I could not remember.

Next to him, I felt like the owner of a huge, good-natured and not very smart dog, which brought strange pleasure. I even began to think about purchasing a collar and a rubber bone... So far, I had to pay for the sincere puppy adoration with sandwiches. It’s probably not even worth mentioning that neither Justin nor I felt any attraction to each other.

At first, he generally mistook me for a boy, like many other newcomers to our school.

I could probably tell you about myself, but I don’t see any point in that. Two minutes of narration about a string of monotonous days, about a school that is not a single molecule different from thousands of others, about why my parents adore me and the fat cat Mephistopheles - and you will simply snore mediocrely.

“Fox, recess is over,” Justin said, looking devotedly into his eyes.

Lost in thoughts, I did not notice how the bell rang.

Actually, my name is Katya. But in our school, getting a nickname is as easy as getting a bad mark or a black eye - it’s enough to be at least a little different from the rest. So the fiery red hair, inherited from my dad, provided me with not the happiest childhood, a desperate hatred of carrots and many nicknames, the last of which was the most harmless. The same Justin was called Hamburger by his classmates, though behind his back. Still, he was quite large for his fifteen years.

There was almost no one in the dining room anymore.

The barmaid, grabbing a tray of unsold pies, went into the kitchen. I threw my bag over my shoulder, pulled up my loose jeans and trudged towards the exit, thinking that at this particular moment in my life an unusual event could bring at least some meaning to it. Any. For example, a small local earthquake that destroyed half of the school - the same one where the chemistry and psychologist classroom is located... Or an attack by terrorists, Satanists, Baptists - or anyone, crush me with a ciliate slipper! Gunfire, furious cries of “Allahu Akbar!”, militants in arafats and suspicious types in black robes, spray-painting a pentagram in the director’s office... Here it is, the secret dream of any average schoolchild! You can trust me.

Justin, who had hesitated, caught up with me and was now breathing heavily in his back; our shared textbooks, half a kilogram of apples, which he methodically destroyed during all breaks, two cans of cola and a nibbled chocolate bar were stuffed into his bag.

Okay, come on, these earthquakes and terrorists are banal, by God. Let it be... a tyrannosaurus, for sure! I imagined Godzilla, as tall as a five-story building, sweeping away half of the school yard with his spiked tail, along with trees, garbage cans, screaming students in sports uniforms and a physical education teacher. My soul became warmer.

I pulled the heavy door of the dining room towards myself, smiling at my own bloodthirsty thoughts, when a deafening roar forced me to release the door handle.

Justin shouted. He screamed and then fell silent, as if someone had covered his mouth.

Slowly, as if wading through thick water, I turned my head...

In the wall, in the place where a second ago there had been a window with a flock of fighting sparrows, there was a huge hole.

Clouds of dust rose above the torn furniture and pieces of walls.

Through the thick gray haze, two huge eyes looked at me - each probably the size of a football. They were as round as the full moon and just as yellow.

Numb with amazement, I looked at the creature that appeared before me. From a distance, it resembled a huge lizard. The muzzle, like a ribbed anvil, ended in a high bony ridge. Streams of smoke floated from his flared nostrils. The massive neck turned into a broad chest, heaving with deep breathing. The monster's entire body was covered with shiny plates of greenish-brown scales. I don’t know how it could fit in this room - it was the height of a lamppost and the size of a concrete mixer.

"Godzilla!" – the first wild thought arose.

I lowered my eyes and screamed when I noticed Justin pinned to the floor by a monstrous paw. The black claw loomed over him like a giant stalactite. My friend was deathly pale, but seemed unharmed.

A furious gust of hot air almost knocked me off my feet - the creature spread its wings. Infinitely long, leathery, with thick bright red veins. I felt the back of my head get cold, and my palms became sticky with sweat.

Not Godzilla, no...

* * *

The eyes blinked. For a moment they disappeared behind heavy, folded eyelids and stared at me again, shining like spotlights. I backed away. My heart sank to my feet. In the corner of my consciousness a panicked voice was screaming, exhorting me to run or at least scream and call for help!

Alas, my tongue was firmly stuck to my larynx, and my legs seemed stiff.

The dragon exhaled noisily and began to shift from paw to paw, threatening to crush the captive every second.

Deciding to squeeze out at least some sound, I opened my mouth wide...

They got ahead of me. A piercing scream broke the silence. Justin came to his senses and now desperately, albeit unsuccessfully, tried to escape from the clawed prison.

Not paying attention to him, the dragon flapped its wings and suddenly hit the remaining part of the wall with its whole body. There was a crash, clouds of caustic dust shot up into the air, shards of glass and pieces of furniture flew. Swept away by the shock wave, I collapsed on the floor. Leaning on his folded wing and bouncing on one free paw, the dragon hobbled towards the hole in the wall. The reptile's tail dragged along the floor like a huge dead python.

The dragon never released its prey from its claws.

Apparently, he was planning to escape - along with Justin and a piece of window frame caught on a sharp bone ridge.

It was probably a good thing. The thought that the terrible monster was not going to feast on me calmed me down...

And then I saw Justin's eyes. Huge, tear-stained, they looked with such inexpressible melancholy and doomed resignation that everything inside me broke.

Was it the fault of these eyes, or a piece of sewing craft that had been stuck in the fifth point since early childhood... or maybe cherry blossoms in full bloom on the outskirts of Otofuke - who knows? But something made the body jerk up from the ground and with a desperate cry of “Banza-a-ay!” rush at the monster.

I flew up to the dragon at the moment when he had already pulled half of his bulky body out and spread his wing.

Having hooted wildly and feeling the remnants of sanity leaving my body, making it light and airy, like a feather, I swung my bag, aiming at the dragon’s head. The bag caught on the horn, and I grunted and pulled it towards me.

The dragon, not expecting such a trick, hesitated. For some reason, he pulled the body back, turned his massive head and stared with all his eyes at the small impudent insect, which he apparently imagined me to be.

- Oh, you stupid lizard! “I managed to shout out before the strap of the bag treacherously burst and fell into the dust for the second time that ill-fated day.

After what was said, bewilderment and slight offense began to be clearly read in the reptile’s eyes.

- Warthog! “I decided to consolidate my success by floundering among the rubble and trying to get on all fours.

After the mention of the “terrible elephant,” the dragon could not stand it, roared quietly, causing his ears to feel like cotton wool, and released a stream of fire.

Have you ever had fire spat at you? Oh, you've lost a lot! Just imagine the enchanting sensations: crackling hair on your head, the smell of burnt meat, charred skin... Alas, I was not lucky enough to experience this either, because the flame suddenly broke off ten centimeters from my nose, so I escaped with only slightly singed eyebrows.

Under the dragon's wing Terry Lu

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Title: Under the Dragon's Wing

About the book "Under the Dragon's Wing" by Terry Lou

You can get to another world in different ways. Fall asleep in a soft bed, and wake up in a haystack in the middle of a cornflower field. Or slip on a banana peel, lose consciousness, and wake up next to a raging waterfall in some Narnia. But to be kidnapped by a dragon! This is something new. We recommend reading.

Terry Lou's book Under the Dragon's Wing will immerse you in a fairy-tale fantasy world. Little is known about the author, but his novel deserves attention. Anyone who likes to read fantasy will appreciate it.

So, the red-haired girl is kidnapped by the dragon. The girl didn't even panic. It is not yet known who the dragon did worse to - her or the inhabitants of the fairy-tale world. After all, we still need to look for individuals with such a bad character!

As you may have guessed, Terry Lou has prepared various dangerous adventures for the main character. The girl will have to find true friends, fight with sworn enemies, and become a magician.

Have you ever wondered why children have been scared of dragons since time immemorial? Perhaps they once lived on our land. The book reveals a terrible secret...
As a rule, in such fantasy there is a love story. But who will love a nasty little girl who only knows how to do all sorts of tricks? Nothing but torment from her! Or maybe someone thinks about her day and night?

As you read the work, it becomes noticeable how the characters transform. And now little Fox is no longer such a desperate prankster, but a kind and sensual girl. The dragon Jalu, who has shed blood more than once over the many years of his “activity,” suddenly begins to experience compassion.

The secondary characters are also interesting. Terry Lou made them sincere and real. They are easy to believe. A lot of them. They fill history with variety.

What is the book "Under the Dragon's Wing" about? About misunderstanding, betrayal, lies, murder. Sometimes there is too much blood for a fairy tale. But it’s hard to call this work a horror story. It is rather a reminder to people of what will happen if you make unwise decisions and do stupid things.

Well done author. Superbly written. It conveys some points well, believably and correctly, to paraphrase Stanislavsky one can say: “I believe!” The style of presentation is light and casual. Moreover, the book ends at the most interesting point. Do you want to know how the tragedy that happened in the finale will end? You can dream up for now, since the second part is just being written. Wait!!!

On our website about books lifeinbooks.net you can download for free without registration or read online the book “Under the Dragon’s Wing” by Terry Lou in epub, fb2, txt, rtf, pdf formats for iPad, iPhone, Android and Kindle. The book will give you a lot of pleasant moments and real pleasure from reading. You can buy the full version from our partner. Also, here you will find the latest news from the literary world, learn the biography of your favorite authors. For beginning writers, there is a separate section with useful tips and tricks, interesting articles, thanks to which you yourself can try your hand at literary crafts.