By now they had arrived at an orange door that was slightly singed around the edges. A sign above it read 3RD DIMENSION, THURSDAY APRIL 5, 10:21 PM DWT DISTRICT OF DRAGONS: BLUE PLANET.
Caleb remarked on the impressive size of the doorstep and argued that it would be a good place to spend the night, until Mikal pointed out that it was probably so big to accommodate the dragons who lived within.
“Oh, they don’t travel much,” Cavendish reassured the kids. “Though the Engineer probably planned it that way when he created the Door Way. As long as you stay together, the Drifters probably won’t bother you, and you’ll be safer sleeping on the dragons’ doorstep than inside their world.”
“And there’s the added bonus that we don’t have to worry about being flattened by falling stars in here,” George said.
Once they had agreed to stay put, the children dug out the leftovers from the previous night and ate ravenously.
Mikal propped Cavendish up against a backpack, and George and Caleb sat with their legs dangling off the ledge as they feasted on peanut butter sandwiches and cold grilled cheese sandwiches.
“Cavendish,” Caleb said around a mouthful of peanut butter, “you said the Engineer created the Door Way. That’s the same Engineer from the Council of Seven, right?”
“Of course, dummy. How many engineers do you think there are who could create something this complex? None, that’s how many. In fact, there’s not a single person alive today who knows how he did it—not even his daughter. Nobody can figure out what keeps the Touries afloat, let alone how he managed to connect all of the worlds to a single place. Not even my programmer, and he’s marvelously brilliant.”
“What do you mean, keep the Touries afloat?” George asked. “Isn’t there something under there that keeps them up and moving? Like tracks or rails?”
“Nope. Not a thing. The only thing under the doors is a great big nothing. An abyss, a void. You fall, you die.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. And kind of scary. Are you okay, Mikal?” George asked, noticing he had gone pale, and his mouth was hanging open and full of half-chewed sandwich.
Mikal blinked twice and then scooted back as quickly as he could, pressing himself against the orange door. He pulled his knees up to his chest and looked around wildly.
George glanced at Caleb, who also had stopped eating. “What’s going on?”
“Please,” Mikal said, his voice raspy and dry. “Please, come away from the edge.”
Caleb responded at once, moving carefully away from the drop-off and closer to Mikal. “It’s okay, Mikal. We’re okay. George, will you please come over here? Slowly?”
“What in the Flyrrey are you on about?” Cavendish asked. “Are we under attack?!”
George did as Caleb asked, bringing the backpacks and Cavendish with her. “What’s wrong, Mikal?” she asked, her brow furrowing with concern as she settled beside him.
Caleb had his arm around Mikal’s shoulders and was talking to him so quietly George couldn’t make out what he was saying. He looked up at George and gave a half smile. “Sorry to be weird, but Mikal has a thing about heights.”
George reached out and took Mikal’s clammy hand in both of hers. “Oh. It’s okay, Mikal,” she murmured. “Can I help at all?”
“A thing about heights? Is he afraid?” Cavendish asked. “Is this some kind of human problem? Are your fuses shorting? Logically, we are too far away from the edge to fall, which makes your fear irrational. My programmer didn’t give me a protocol for this kind of nonsense.”
Mikal said nothing, only huddled as close as he could against the door frame.
“I don’t think it’s something you can understand, Cavendish,” Caleb said.
“But I want to understand!” Cavendish said.
It must have been the sincerity in his artificial voice that caused George to try to explain. “It is a human problem. Sometimes we just get scared. Logic has nothing to do with it.”
“Yeah,” Caleb said. “Like I’m scared to death of those things in the Land of Dreamers, and being in tight spaces gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
George looked down at her lap. “Goldfish … I’m not saying I’m afraid of them! They just make me nervous.…”
“GOLDFISH? Ha. I’m not scared of anything,” Cavendish said. “Except … perhaps … water. Water makes my circuits quiver.” His screen faded pink at this admission.
“M-maybe it’s not such a human problem after all, then,” Mikal said.
“Do you think you can sleep, Mikal?” Caleb asked.
Mikal shook his head violently back and forth.
“What if we make your bed right here, as far from the side as possible?” George asked. “We’ll sleep next to you to make sure you don’t roll off, okay?”
“No!” Mikal said. “What if you fall off?”
“We won’t, Mikal. In fact, I bet that if we fell asleep and got too close to the edge, Cavendish would let us know. Wouldn’t you, Cavendish?” Caleb asked.
“You want me to keep watch?” Cavendish asked, surprised.
“If you’re up to it,” Caleb said. “And while you’re at it, you could let us know if any of those Drifters show up.”
“Oh, I am. I AM up to it!” Cavendish said.
Mikal nodded reluctantly, and George helped him make a pallet.
Caleb made his bed between his friend and the drop into the void.
George arranged her blankets at Mikal’s head, and he squeezed his eyes shut, clutching Cavendish to his chest.
Cavendish, for a reason perhaps not entirely unhuman, kept up a steady stream of quiet chatter, and soon Mikal was snoring, secure in the knowledge that his friends would keep him safe.
“Caleb?” George asked softly. “Are you still awake?”
“Sure am,” Caleb said. “What’s up?”
“Can you tell me what that was about?”
Caleb didn’t say anything.
“If it isn’t too personal, I mean,” she said, embarrassed.
“Remember how Mikal was an acrobat when we traveled with the circus?” Caleb asked. “And his dad was too, before he died?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“His dad was really good, and taught Mikal how to be really good. He and Mikal were doing a show together when his dad fell. That’s how he was killed. That’s the real reason why the circus left us. Mikal saw his dad die, and he couldn’t go back up again. The people in charge figured we weren’t worth the trouble if Mikal couldn’t perform, especially without his dad to look after us.”
George’s throat was too tight to say anything.
“He was a good man. When Mikal found me wandering around half starved, his dad took me in and treated me like I was his boy too. Truly his. That’s why I’ll take care of Mikal for him, no matter what,” Caleb said, sounding fierce and not at all like the laid-back boy George had met.
“Why were you wandering?” George asked.
“Dunno,” Caleb said. “I don’t even know how old I really am. Mikal’s dad thought I looked to be around nine when he took me in, but I had no idea who I was, or even where I was. I’ll find out someday, though. I have to. G’night, George.”
“Good night, Caleb.” She was still for a moment but then removed Toad from under her head, where she had been using him as a pillow. She tucked Toad into Mikal’s arms next to Cavendish and lay back down. “Three for Toad, four for backpack, five for Caleb, six for Mikal. Nothing’s missing,” she whispered to herself.
“Ahem,” Cavendish said softly.
George hesitated.
Cavendish sighed.
George broke.
“Seven for Cavendish,” she said. “Nothing’s missing.”
“That’s right,” Cavendish said. “That’s right.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Caleb tossed and turned long after the others were asleep. Suddenly he sat up and threw his hands in the air. “That’s it. Can’t sleep. No use trying. Need me to take over, Cavendish?
”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I happen to be doing a very good job. Don’t you trust me?”
“I just thought you’d want a break. Maybe take a nap. If you sleep, that is. Do you?”
“I don’t want a break, and no, I don’t sleep. Do you?”
Caleb rubbed at his face. “No. Not really. Not for as long as I can remember.”
Then they chatted quietly as they kept watch over their sleeping friends.
* * *
Finally it was time to wake the others. Mikal opened his eyes, peeked out from under his covers, and groaned with dismay. He stayed pressed safely against the Moor as the children shared a quick breakfast of bruised bananas and apples.
When they finished eating, they gathered their belongings. George took a quick count, and Caleb reached for the silver knob.
George lingered. “Wait, Caleb.”
“What is it?” Caleb asked.
“I know we were too tired to care last night, but am I the only one concerned about the fact that we’re going into the District of Dragons?”
Mikal frowned and clasped Cavendish to his chest. “I can’t decide what’s worse, fire-breathing reptiles or heights.”
“What do we know about dragons?” Caleb asked. “Cavendish!”
“Insomnia! Huh? What?” Cavendish asked.
“Give us some information on dragons, would you?” Caleb asked.
“Dragons … furry little creatures. Whiskers and cute pink noses…”
George raised her eyebrows. “Cute pink noses?”
“Cavendish, pay attention!” Mikal said, shaking the map a little.
“WHAT? Can’t you see I’m doing research? What’s a fellow got to do to get a little personal time around here?”
“Dragons! What do you know?” Caleb said.
“If I could roll my eyes right now, I would, and I’d roll them really hard too. I told you what I know. Well, partially. They vary, really. Some of them are cute like kittens. Others are massive as skyscrapers. In fact, that’s where skyscrapers get their name. You don’t really have to worry about those, though.”
“So, we’ll be okay?” George asked.
“You’ll be fine. Unless, that is, you come across one of the Medium-Sized Variety. In which case, all you can do is think happy thoughts and try to escape your mind.”
“What do you mean?” Mikal asked, smoothing his hair back nervously.
“Just as you’re too big for the Small ones, and too small for the Big ones, you’re just the right size for the Medium ones, and they’ll eat anything that moves.”
“Absolutely delightful,” George said. “But we need our second key to Astria, so we don’t have a choice.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Cavendish said. “Medium ones get into so much trouble that there aren’t very many of them left. Besides, if you do meet a dragon of the Medium-Sized Variety, one of you can provide him with a wholesome meal while the others get away.”
“First you said we should let Thazel eat George, and now you’re saying we might have to let a dragon eat one of us. Why are you so eager to feed us to something?” Mikal asked.
“Because while something is feasting on one of you, the rest can escape. It’s logic.”
“We need to get going, guys. How are we doing on time, Cav?” Caleb asked.
“The time is now seven thirty AM DWT. You currently have thirty-nine hours and forty-one minutes until you’re buried six feet under an avalanche of meteors. That’s Door Way Time, in case you didn’t know. And a nickname? I’m flattered!”
Mikal sighed as miserably as one can when caught between a deadly abyss and dragons. “Well, if we’re gonna be eaten, we may as well be on time.” He took a deep breath and opened the Moor.
They stepped through as a group, scrunching their eyes tightly closed. When nothing terrible happened, and they heard nothing that sounded like a rampaging clan of mythological reptiles, they slowly opened their eyes.
They were in the midst of a barren and empty world. Blue dust swirled by in tiny tornadoes, and the ground beneath their feet was cracked and parched. George took a step forward, and the powdery blue dirt gave with a crunch, causing more cracks to spread around them like broken glass. Scraggly trees and shrubs cropped up here and there, but they were long dead. Nothing seemed to live in this forsaken world.
“I don’t understand,” Cavendish said. “My encyclopedia says the District of Dragons is a thriving community. Where is everybody?”
“Maybe we’re in the wrong place?” Mikal asked.
“Of course we’re not in the wrong place! I’m never in the wrong place! Spin me around and see for yourself.”
Mikal obeyed, and the picture began to move.
They walked for a great distance. Caleb looked back and saw the swirling whirlwinds covering their tracks as quickly as they left them. The map eventually led to a bare tree, sitting upon a hill that overlooked a sharp drop-off. The picture stopped moving.
“Is this where we’re supposed to find the key?” Caleb asked.
George held up her hand to hush the others. “Do you hear something?”
They listened but heard nothing. Then they looked over the edge of the bluff.
Below them was a small pool of water, and beside it sat a plump, despondent-looking dragon of the Medium-Sized Variety. He was covered in gray iridescent scales, and his pearly wings were folded against his spiked back.
“Get down!” Caleb rasped, dropping to his stomach and pulling the others with him.
The dragon sighed. “I know you’re there,” he said. “You don’t have to hide. I can’t eat you.”
“Holy fire and hippos,” Mikal said.
“Do you think he’s lying?” George asked.
Caleb watched the dragon for a moment and then stood up. “He already knows we’re here. What’s the point of hiding?” He started down the hill but lost his footing halfway and slid to a dusty stop at the edge of the pond.
“I’ve got to get in on this. Daniel would just kill me if I had a chance to meet a dragon and didn’t take it,” George said, and slid down the slope after Caleb, followed by a reluctant Mikal.
Caleb rose to his feet and rubbed at his sore back as he addressed the dragon. “Hi, there. I’m Caleb, and these are my friends. Who are you, and how did you know we were here?”
“You’re not very quiet. I heard you before you even opened the Moor,” the dragon said, blinking his bright eyes morosely.
“And why can’t you eat us—I mean, them?” Cavendish asked.
A fat tear rolled from the dragon’s eye and plopped into the little pool beside him. “Because I’ve lost my fire. It’s gone out.”
“Have you cried all of those tears?” Mikal asked, pointing to the pond.
“I have.” The dragon batted his long eyelashes.
“What’s your name?” George asked.
“Hector.”
“Hi, Hector. I’m George, and that’s Mikal and Cavendish.”
“Hello,” Hector said, glancing away in disinterest.
Mikal gave an awkward wave.
“We were told this world was a thriving community. What happened?” Caleb asked.
“The other planets in the District are thriving communities. We’re very cultured, you know. We have public-access television and ballets.”
“What about this one?” George asked.
“This is the Blue Planet. It’s been abandoned for ages, ever since the dust turned blue. Dragons don’t care for that color. We prefer happy colors, like red and yellow and orange.”
“How telling,” Cavendish said.
“You’re here all alone?” George asked.
“I am.”
Mikal leaned around Caleb to get a better look at Hector. “Why would you want to be on a planet all by yourself?”
“This is my sad place. I come here when I am sad, which is always these days.”
“You’re sad because your fire went out, right?” George ask
ed.
“Yes,” Hector said, wiping another tear from his snout with a sharp mother-of-pearl claw.
“Why did it go out?” George asked.
Hector exhaled so heavily that the force of his breath sent tiny ripples dancing across the pool. “It all started on Scilandor, another of the planets here in the District. It’s a very wet planet. There’s water everywhere, so there’s a spectacular variety of large game fish. I was flying about when I came across another dragon snapping the spine of her prey. She was ferocious and startling in her beauty. The shimmer of her scales, the length of her snout, the way the light reflected off her bloody fangs. She was poetry in carnivorous motion.”
Mikal swallowed hard.
“Then she noticed me, and she must have thought I was going to steal her dinner. I would never do something so dishonorable!” Hector straightened his neck, bobbing his head in indignation. “She smacked the surface of the sea with her tail, and a spout of water shot up into my mouth and hit me straight in the throat!” He opened his mouth and pointed a claw inside. “Right there. It put my pilot light out, and I haven’t been able to cook a decent meal since.”
“So you came here to hide?” Mikal asked.
Hector snapped his teeth together and hissed. “I’m not hiding. Dragons don’t hide. I’m grieving.”
“Could we maybe help you get your fire back?” George asked.
Hector looked into the dusty sky. “There is a way—”
“Oh no you don’t! There’s no way that’s happening on my watch!” Cavendish said.
“You might not like it,” Hector said, ignoring Cavendish.
“You would like it, though,” Cavendish said.
“What are you two talking about?” George asked, looking from Cavendish to Hector.
“It’s the only way to get my fire back. I promise not to do anything bad,” Hector said.
“It isn’t happening,” Cavendish said. “These are my people, and I refuse to allow it!”
“Maybe you can share the options with the rest of us and let us decide,” Caleb said.
“He wants you to stick your arm through his jaws and relight his pilot light,” Cavendish said. “I strongly suggest you decline if you enjoy the use of your limbs.”
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