The Rain Dragon Rescue

by Suzanne Selfors

  Ben read from the opposite page. “ ‘The rain dragon is a type of Chinese horned dragon. Horned dragons are the most respected of all Eastern dragons. The rain dragon is a female. Though wingless, she uses magic to fly. More than one cannot exist at the same time. Her sole purpose is to make rain.’ ”

  “She’s a girl. And she makes the rain,” Pearl said. “Then that explains why the ground is parched. She can’t make rain if she’s dying.”

  “Listen to this,” Ben said, continuing to read. “ ‘While Chinese horned dragons vary in size, the rain dragon is vast and stretches for exactly two miles from the tip of her tail to the top of her snout.’ ”

  “Two miles?” Pearl scrambled to her feet. “If she’s that big, it should be easy to find her. We just need to get a better view. Maybe we can climb to the top of that ridge.” Pearl grabbed the satchel and began to march across the cracked ground, her ponytail bouncing. When Ben and Metalmouth caught up, she was standing at the end of the ridge. “I can’t get a good grip,” she told them with a groan. “These leprechaun shoes are too slippery. Will you give me a boost?” Metalmouth cupped his front paws together. Pearl stepped inside, and he lifted her as high as he could. She scrambled up the last few feet.

  “What do you see?” Ben asked.

  Standing on tiptoe, Pearl reported her findings. “Well, this is definitely where the ridge begins. But it goes on and on and on as far as I can tell. I don’t see anything else.”

  What terrible news. How were they supposed to help the rain dragon if they couldn’t find her? Frustration took hold of Ben’s thoughts. What would happen if they failed and the dragon died? Would there never be rain in the Imaginary World? Ben leaned against the ridge.

  It moved.

  The ridge… moved.

  Having lived in Los Angeles all his life, Ben knew what earthquakes felt like. This hadn’t been an earthquake. He pressed his hand against the ridge. It twitched. “I think I found our dragon,” Ben said with a smile.

  Pearl slid back down to the ground, landing beside Ben. Upon closer inspection, they discovered that what had looked like a mound of dirt was actually the rain dragon’s tail. “But she’s supposed to be green,” Pearl said.

  “I wonder if she changed colors because she’s sick.” This was a reasonable guess, Ben thought. “Now we know we’re not too late. She’s still alive.”

  “Well, we’re standing at the wrong end,” Pearl said. “We’ll have to walk two miles to reach her head.”

  But Ben had a better idea. “Hey, Metalmouth, can we ride on your back?” He was fairly confident he could hang on. After all, he’d taken riding lessons at his parents’ country club.

  “You got a saddle?” Metalmouth asked. Pearl and Ben shook their heads. “Then no can do. My scales will stab right through your clothes if you try to sit on me.”

  So they walked. And walked. And walked.

  To keep Metalmouth from complaining about being bored, Pearl threw the tennis ball. To keep Pearl from getting tired, Ben and Pearl took turns carrying the black satchel. Without a cloud to hinder it, the sun beat down. The heat didn’t seem to bother Metalmouth, who pounced on the ball like an overgrown puppy. But sweat droplets gathered along Ben’s collarbone. He felt sticky all over.

  They followed the rain dragon’s tail as it thickened, moving toward her hind legs. Cracks in the ground spread in all directions. Some were so wide Ben and Pearl had to jump over them. A few were so deep Ben couldn’t see to the bottom. They’d stop every once in a while and touch the rain dragon. Ben was checking to make sure she was still alive. Pearl was letting her know that help was on the way.

  “How much longer do you think we have to walk?” Pearl asked.

  Ben had no idea. He didn’t do much walking back in Los Angeles. He knew that Olympic athletes could run a mile in under four minutes. He tried to come up with a formula, but it was too hot to do math. “An hour,” he guessed.

  Pearl ran a few steps, then leaped over the widest crack yet. Ben stopped at the edge and looked down. If he fell inside, how would he get out? Metalmouth had easily made the crossing and was chasing after his ball.

  “Just get a running start,” Pearl said from the other side. She smiled with encouragement. “You can do it.”

  Ben took a deep breath. He didn’t want Pearl to think he was scared, so he pushed all his cautious thoughts aside and started to run. But he didn’t get quite enough power behind the leap, and his foot slipped. “Aaah!” he cried, realizing he wasn’t going to make it. The gap loomed, dark and endless as a black hole. He clawed at the air, desperate for something to stop his fall.

  Pearl’s arm shot out and grabbed the collar of Ben’s lab coat. She yanked with all her might. They both tumbled to the ground. While Pearl landed on her backside, Ben landed in a face-plant.

  “You okay?” she asked. “That was close.”

  Way too close. Ben got to his knees. His legs felt wobbly. He spat out some dirt. “Thanks,” he said. Then he looked into Pearl’s green eyes. “You… you saved my life.”

  “You think so?” She pushed a few stray hairs from her eyes. “It was no big deal. I mean, you’d do the same for me.”

  No big deal? Ben swallowed hard. Without Pearl, he’d be lying at the bottom of that crevasse. “Of course I’d do the same for you.” There was an awkward moment of silence as they looked at each other. Ben didn’t know what else to say. But he did know that he’d never forget what had happened.

  As Pearl wiped dirt off her knees, Ben got to his feet. Something made a clinking sound. The vial of fairy dust had tumbled from his pocket.

  Before he could grab it, the vial rolled toward the crevasse and disappeared over the edge.

  15

  The vial of fairy dust was gone!

  With a strangled cry, Ben fell to his knees and reached into the crevasse, his hands frantically searching the cold, dank air that lay below the surface. Then he lay on his belly, reaching farther, hoping the vial might have landed on a shelf, or that the crevasse wasn’t as deep as it looked.

  “You find it?” Pearl asked, crouching beside him.

  “No,” Ben said with a moan. “Metalmouth, can you help us?”

  Metalmouth dropped his tennis ball and bounded over. “Lemme try.” He also lay on his belly. Then he stretched out his arm, just as he’d done through the kitchen window to get Grandpa Abe’s toaster. “Can’t find it,” he reported.

  “Drat,” Pearl said. She sat on the black satchel. “That’s too bad. I dropped my house key down the drain. But we got a new key at the hardware store.”

  Panic started in Ben’s toes and rose up into his throat. “What are we going to do?” he cried.

  “Don’t worry,” Pearl said. “The goat lady knows we’re here. She’ll tell Dr. Woo, and then Dr. Woo will come get us.” She looked at Metalmouth. “Isn’t that right?”

  The dragon sat up and scratched behind his ear. “Maybe. But Violet only works the day shift. If Dr. Woo gets back late, she won’t know we’re here until tomorrow morning.”

  “Tomorrow?” Ben imagined his grandfather waiting outside the hospital gate at three o’clock, wondering what had become of his grandson. He wiped sweat from his brow. There was no one to blame but himself. If he’d kept a tight grip on the vial, they wouldn’t be in this predicament. Could they survive the night without water? Without blankets or shelter? And would his grandfather remember to feed Snooze?

  Pearl checked the rain dragon’s status. “Her skin feels colder,” she said with alarm. “We can’t sit here and worry about ourselves. We have a life to save.”

  She was right. Ben had made a terrible mistake, but there was still a job to be done. There was only one rain dragon in the universe, and she needed their help.

  As they followed the dragon’s body, Ben and Pearl tried to stay in Metalmouth’s shadow. He didn’t seem bothered by the temperature. Ben’s mouth turned dry. When they arrived at the dragon’s hind leg, they climbed over it. As they c
ontinued their journey alongside the dragon’s mid-section, Ben’s throat became so parched it felt like it was made of sandpaper. He tried not to imagine the cans of cream soda in his grandfather’s refrigerator.

  “I’m so thirsty.” He opened the satchel, hoping to find water, but only found bottles labeled BLISTER LIQUIFIER, WOO’S WOUND GLUE, and TAIL AND TENTACLE DETANGLER.

  “I’m thirsty, too, but I’m not drinking any of this stuff,” Pearl said as she picked up a vial labeled SYRUP OF SERPENT SPIT. “Gross.”

  Metalmouth scratched under his chin. “How long can humans go without water?”

  “Not long,” Ben said. “Especially because we’re sweating so much.”

  “Then why don’t you just stop sweating?”

  “We can’t,” Pearl said grumpily. “It’s how our bodies keep cool.”

  “Human bodies make no sense,” Metalmouth said. “You have no scales to protect you. And those patches of fur on your heads make you look super weird.”

  Ben guessed it was noon because the sun hung directly overhead. But maybe the sun had different rules in the Imaginary World. Sweat gathered between his toes. His socks were going to reek!

  “You know what I’d like?” Pearl said. “I’d like an ice-cold vanilla milk shake. Or a root beer with extra ice. Or—”

  “That’s not helping,” Ben grumbled. Would they die of thirst before Dr. Woo came to rescue them?

  The rain dragon’s midsection was much shorter than her tail, so it wasn’t long before they arrived at her front leg. They were about to climb over it when Metalmouth sniffed the air. “I smell metal.”

  “Metal?” Ben looked around. “I don’t see anything made of metal. Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” He thumped his tail. “Where is it? Huh? I want it!”

  “Hey, guys!” Pearl had walked alongside the leg and had disappeared around the dragon’s bent elbow. “You’d better come and see this!”

  Metalmouth bounded forward, Ben at his heels. They both skidded to a stop next to Pearl. Ben’s mouth fell open in astonishment.

  The rain dragon’s paw was caught in a trap.

  16

  The trap looked like a pair of metal dentures that belonged to a giant. Grandpa Abe wore dentures. He kept them in a glass beside his bed at night, since he didn’t need to chew while sleeping.

  “Poor thing,” Pearl cried as she and Ben raced toward the paw. “This is why she isn’t moving.”

  A heavy chain was attached to the trap at one end and to a metal post at the other end. The post was hammered deep into the ground.

  “Who did this?” Ben asked.

  Metalmouth crouched real low, his ears folded forward. “Do you think it was a bunch of angry peasants?” He nervously glanced around. “Maybe I should get out of here.”

  Ben felt worried, too. Protecting Metalmouth from a rake-wielding mob could be tricky. And Metalmouth couldn’t fly away to escape. Nor could they summon the Portal, because they no longer had the vial of fairy dust.

  “Hey, you guys, come help me.” Pearl was yanking on the trap with all her might. “We have to free her.” Pearl was right. They’d worry about angry peasants later.

  Even with the three of them working together, pulling and grunting like weight lifters, the trap didn’t budge an inch. Then Ben had an idea. “Metalmouth? Couldn’t you use your flame, like you did back on the hospital roof, to melt the metal?”

  “That’s a real good idea. Stand back.” As Metalmouth took a deep breath, Ben and Pearl scampered behind his wing, as they’d done before. A flame shot at the chain, cutting through it like a saw until the links broke apart. Then he aimed his flame at the corners of the trap, cutting a precise line around the hinges. The top half of the trap toppled over, landing on the hardened ground with a loud clang.

  They watched, waiting for the rain dragon to get up and fly away. “How come she’s not moving?” Pearl asked. “She’s free.”

  They walked around the paw, examining it as best they could. The rain dragon had five toes, unlike Metalmouth, who had four toes. The trap had made indents in the paw, but none of the metal teeth had pierced the thick skin, so there were no wounds to tend to.

  “She’s still not moving,” Pearl said.

  “Something else must be wrong.” Ben started walking. “We need to get to her head so we can talk to her.”

  “Uh-oh.” Metalmouth stood on his hind legs and sniffed the air. “I smell something else.”

  “Is it water?” Pearl asked. “Please tell us it’s water.” She and Ben looked up at Metalmouth, waiting for the word they longed to hear. A word that was clear, crisp, and drinkable.

  Metalmouth sniffed again. Then he bared his jagged teeth and growled.

  “What’s wrong?” Ben asked.

  He growled louder. The scales along his spine stood straight up, like the hair on the back of a cat. Ben’s own spine got all tingly as a creepy feeling ran up it.

  “What do you smell?” Pearl asked.

  “I smell… dragon blood.”

  “Blood? That’s why she’s not moving,” Pearl said. “She must have another injury. Come on!”

  Despite their thirst, the trio picked up the pace. It only took a few minutes before they reached what looked like a forest. After referring to the drawing in Dr. Woo’s book, they realized they’d arrived at the dragon’s mane, which was made of feathers, each one as long as a pine tree. The feathers had also turned a drab shade of brown. Metalmouth sniffed the air. “The scent is stronger.”

  “Look!” Ben pointed to a narrow stream that trickled along the cracked ground. But it wasn’t filled with refreshing cool water—the liquid was thick and green.

  “Dragon blood,” Metalmouth said.

  The blood boiled like porridge on a stove. Bubbles popped to the surface, then spat in small bursts. A splatter hit one of Ben’s sneakers, burning a hole in the canvas.

  “Watch out,” Pearl said, dodging another splatter. They darted past the blood stream and kept hurrying until they reached the dragon’s head.

  A head the size of a house.

  “Wow,” Pearl said.

  Ben stood in awe. He forgot about being thirsty. No words could express his amazement. Nothing in the Known World could compare. Even Metalmouth, who was as large as an elephant, stood in silence, dwarfed by the immensity of this other dragon.

  The rain dragon’s eyes were closed. Blood dripped down her forehead and onto the ground. That’s when Ben realized they’d found the source of the green stream. His heart sank.

  One of her horns had been cut from her head, leaving behind a big, gaping hole.

  17

  They’d discovered the reason for the giant metal trap. It had held the rain dragon in place so that someone could take one of her horns.

  “Who would hurt such a beautiful creature?” Pearl’s eyes filled with angry tears.

  “A hunter,” Ben guessed. But what kind of hunter lived in the Imaginary World? Was it a person or another creature? “Maybe the rain dragon’s horns are valuable, just like an elephant’s or a rhinoceros’. Poachers kill animals for their horns.”

  “That’s mean,” Metalmouth said.

  “This is the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen. I wish my aunt Milly were here. She’d put whoever did this in jail.”

  Puzzled, Ben chewed his lower lip. Why hadn’t the hunter taken both horns? Maybe it was easier to take one at a time since each horn was bigger than a refrigerator. “Whoever did this might come back,” he realized. The hairs at the base of his neck electrified at the thought of facing someone or something capable of such brutality.

  Metalmouth covered his own horns with his paws. “I wanna go home.”

  Pearl patted his leg. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. We won’t let the mean old hunter hurt you. I promise.”

  How can she make such a promise? Ben thought. They knew nothing about the Imaginary World and the creatures that lived here. But her words had seemed to put Metalmout
h at ease, because he lowered his paws and nodded.

  Feeling very sweaty, Ben took off his lab coat and laid it on the ground. Then he cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered up at the rain dragon. “Who did this to you? Hello?” The dragon didn’t reply. Nor did she open her eyes.

  “She’s a Chinese dragon,” Pearl said. “Do either of you speak Chinese?” Both Ben and Metalmouth shook their heads.

  Another drop of green blood rolled down the dragon’s face and landed near Ben’s feet. “She might not understand us, but we need to stop that bleeding,” he said.

  “You’re right.” Pearl searched the black satchel and found an odd assortment of circular, triangular, and star-shaped bandages. “Drat! These aren’t big enough.”

  “Hey, what about this?” Ben grabbed a bottle he’d seen earlier, the one labeled WOO’S WOUND GLUE. “It might help.”

  “Dr. Woo used that stuff on me when I stepped on a fork,” Metalmouth said. Ben figured he’d been stealing the fork at the time. “My toe’s as good as new.” He held out his left rear paw and wiggled the third toe.

  “We’ll have to climb.”

  “Climb her face?” Ben thought this sounded like a very rude thing to do.

  “We’re so small she probably won’t even notice,” Pearl said. “But Metalmouth should stay down here. He’s way too big. His claws might hurt her.”

  “I don’t wanna stay down here alone.” Metalmouth’s ears collapsed, and he wrapped his tail around himself. “What if the poacher comes back? Huh? What if?”

  It struck Ben as odd that such a big creature could look so afraid. But he didn’t blame Metalmouth one bit. Clearly this poacher was ruthless and cruel. “Just use your big mean voice,” Ben said. “The one we heard on the hospital roof. It scared me.”

  “Me too,” Pearl said.

  Metalmouth nodded. Then he raised himself onto his hind legs, unfurled his mighty wings, and said, “You mean THIS VOICE?” His eyes flashed, and a flame shot out of his mouth. Even though Ben knew it was an act, a jolt of fear ran down his legs. Metalmouth sat back down and smiled. “Like that?”