One morning, the sorceress was busy sorting her collection of tiaras when a loud squawk disturbed her.

  It came from Phobik’s cave. The sorceress went to see what the matter was.

  She found the golden phoenix flapping her wings furiously and dancing from claw to claw on her ornate perch. Underneath was a large, strangely patterned egg.

  “Goodness!” said the sorceress, amazed, “I did not know you could lay eggs!”

  Squawk, squawked Phobik indignantly. Everyone knows phoenix do not lay eggs.

  “Well, if that egg is not yours, where did it come from?”

  Squawk, squawked Phobik.

  “All right, I will not ask you,” said the sorceress.

  She picked up the strange egg and carried it to her chambers.

  After pondering on it for several hours, she decided to summon her friend, the gruff wizard to see if he could solve the puzzle.

  The wizard arrived on his magic rug and examined the mysterious egg.

  After several hours, he announced, “I’m stumped, I’ve never seen anything like it before. I’ve no idea what it is.”

  They decided to summon the grey witch to see if she knew.

  The witch arrived on her broomstick. When she saw the egg, she said, “That’s your Easter egg.”

  “Oh!” said the sorceress. “Is it chocolate inside?”

  “No, it’s an egg that has been boiled and painted with zig-zags and circles and dots and squiggles and spirals.”

  “Was it a chicken’s egg?” asked the sorceress.

  “Of course not,” scoffed the wizard. “It’s much too big.”

  “What sort of egg is it?” asked the sorceress.

  “I don’t know,” said the witch. “I found it on my table yesterday afternoon in a blue box beside the basket of eggs Mr Fowler got for me. I will go and ask him.”

  “Oh!” said the wizard, “Mr Fowler didn’t get that egg. I found it! I put that blue box on your table yesterday. I thought you could tell me what sort of egg it was. But you were somewhere else and I got hungry so I went home for dinner.”

  “Oh!” said the witch. “Where did you find it?”

  The wizard magicked them to the spot by the river where he had found the egg.

  “What a mystery!” said the sorceress.

  The witch washed the paint off the egg. “It doesn’t look like any of the bird eggs around here.”

  The three friends travelled around the world comparing the egg to other eggs.

  They saw that it was not an egg from any of the birds they found. And it was not an egg from a crocodile. Or from a turtle …

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  Very tired from travelling around the world, they went back to the sorceress’s villa.

  Then, as they sat pondering this mystery, the egg began to jump all by itself on top of the table.

  “It’s alive!” exclaimed the wizard.

  “That’s impossible!” cried the witch, “I boiled that egg!”

  “What shall we do!” cried the sorceress dancing around the table in shock.

  “It is hatching!” shouted the wizard. “Now we shall see what sort of egg it is!”

  “It can’t be hatching! I boiled that egg!”

  “Maybe you didn’t!” cried the wizard.

  “I did.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did. I had to wait for it to cool down before painting it,” the grey witch stated.

  The egg jiggled and cracks appeared.

  “It’s hatching,” said the wizard.

  “It can’t be!” said the witch.

  “Well, something is happening,” said the sorceress.

  “Maybe it is full of imagination about to burst and catch hold of the unwary!” shouted the wizard, waving his hands about.

  “What!” exclaimed the witch.

  “He’s mad!” said the sorceress.

  “He’s bonkers!” said the witch.

  “He’s lost his marbles!” said the sorceress.

  “He’s daft!” said the witch.

  “He’s barkers!” said the sorceress.

  “He’s nuts!” said the witch.

  “He’s conkers!” said the sorceress.

  “He’s barmy!” said the witch.

  “He’s cracked!” said the sorceress.

  “He’s two minutes short of a hard-boiled egg!” said the witch.

  “He could be right!” said the sorceress.

  “Nonsense! I’ve never heard such rubbish! He’s as mad as a looking-glass hatter.”

  It was so much more fun insulting the wizard than admitting he could have a point.

  “He’s two planks short of a bridge!” said the witch.

  “He’s two jokers short of a deck!” said the sorceress.

  “He’s two lines short of a blackboard!” said the witch.

  “He’s two bags short of a tea party!” said the sorceress.

  “He’s two chips short of a meal,” said the witch.

  “He’s two circuits short of a gadget,” said the sorceress.

  “He’s two notes short of a song,” said the witch.

  “He’s two songs short of an album,” said the sorceress.

  “He’s two pumpkins short of a Halloween,” said the witch.

  “He’s two peas short of a princess,” said the sorceress.

  “He’s two frogs short of a prince,” said the witch.

  “He’s two gags short of a comedy,” said the sorceress.

  “He’s two paupers short of a revolution,” said the witch.

  “He’s two spells short of a happy ending,” said the sorceress.

  “He’s two gruffs short of a billy goat,” said the witch.

  “He’s two fleas short of a market,” said the sorceress.

  “He’s two thieves short of an Ali Baba tale,” said the witch.

  “He’s two fruits short of a basket,” said the sorceress.

  “He’s two dancers short of a chorus line up,” said the witch.

  “He’s two strings short of a harp,” said the sorceress.

  “He’s two cheeks short of a slap,” said the witch.

  “Never mind me! Look!” shouted the wizard.

  “He’s two pages short of a pulp thriller,” said the sorceress.

  “He’s two pints short of a cow,” said the witch.

  “Never mind me!” shouted the wizard. “Look at the egg!”

  The egg cracked open and out popped a little scaly head and a tiny claw.

  “What on earth is that?” asked the sorceress.

  “It looks like a baby crocodile, but we know it is not a crocodile’s egg,” said the wizard. “It could be a dinosaur, but everyone knows they are extinct.”

  “It looks like a lizard,” said the witch.

  Then the creature sneezed and a spurt of smoke wisped from its tiny jaws.

  “Goodness! I do believe it’s a baby dragon,” said the sorceress.

  “Ah! That explains it,” said the wizard. “Everyone knows that boiling a dragon’s egg does not kill the baby dragon. In fact, some conservationists incubate dragon eggs in boiling water. What a cute little fellow!”

  “Yes,” said the witch. “But what is a dragon’s egg doing by the river? Dragons don’t nest on riverbanks. They nest in caves high up faraway mountains surrounded by impassable forests, or in smoking volcanoes on faraway islands.”

  “I don’t know,” said the wizard. He picked up the baby dragon tenderly and smiled. “Why don’t you go and find out while I look after this little fellow.”

  The gruff wizard put the adorable baby dragon on his shoulder, stepped onto his magic rug and went home.

  The witch said, “Goodbye,” to the sorceress and got onto her broomstick, and went home to think about it.

  The glamorous sorceress puzzled over the mysterious Easter egg, which was really a dragon egg, for a little while, and then went back to sorting through her tiaras.

  Find out where the egg came from in the next story!