Its pale blue wings shine in the sun and its body glitters like polished glass. We can see all the way through its belly to the fire within. No. Not fire. It’s a blizzard of frost and snow. It dives and its jaws snap open. It screams again and a jet of blue ice bursts from its mouth. Crowky leaps up in the air, trying to fly out of the way, but the dragon just twists its head and hits him with another blast. Crowky’s wings are turning white, freezing. They can barely move. He tries to force them up and down, but he crashes into the sea with a splash.

The chunk of ice tips and the T-shirt slips into the water. Somehow I cling on to Win. I wrap my fingers around his wrist and haul him up next to me. We hug each other, and even though Win is freezing, I feel heat rush through me. My heart beats faster, the cold lump sitting inside me thaws.

Another cry makes us look up.

The dragon is soaring toward us again, but it’s not getting ready to attack. Its legs are stretched out and its talons are open. It wants to pick us up. This is our chance to get out of here. I pull Win to his feet.

Crowky stares at us from the sea. His wings are spread out and his straw hair is standing in frozen spikes. Without thinking I reach out to him. “Come with us,” I say, “or you’ll freeze!”

He looks away from me and starts reaching for something that’s floating under the surface of the sea. It’s the T-shirt.

“Leave it!” I yell. The dragon is almost on us. This is Crowky’s only chance to get out of here. He ignores me and lunges for the scrap of fabric.

The ice dragon dives. His talons close around my shoulders and he plucks me and Win off the ice and up into the air. The Box! I reach out for it, but I’m too late. Win’s already grabbed it and is holding it tight against his chest.

He looks from me to the dragon that’s lifting us higher and higher into the sky.

“Imaginary,” he says.

Chapter 53

The ice dragon swoops over the End with me and Win dangling from its claws.

As we fly over mountains and icebergs Win wonders what else our friendship magic might make. He’s still shivering, and his voice is hoarse, but at least he’s talking. In fact, he can’t stop. “I’ve always wanted a dog. Arthur, do you reckon Winthur Arinja could magic up a dog? Not an ice one, but an ordinary one with fur, just so I don’t get lonely when you’re not around.”