by Bach, Shelby
Lena grinned over her shoulder at me. “Get ready. We’re running.”
“I guess we don’t have time to hide, either,” Chase grumbled. “Crap.”
We looked, and Lena had already run past the kitchen table. We took off too.
“Should we be concerned?” Chase asked.
“You tell me. You’re the one who’s been on ten Tales.” Of course I was a little worried, but Lena’s fearless leader mode was a major improvement over her zombie mode.
“Six. I’ve never seen Lena like this, though.”
I shrugged. “When she decides to be reckless, she goes all out—Uh-oh.”
Halfway down the hall, Lena swerved into Matilda’s office without even turning back to check where we were.
“Matty!” Jimmy called from inside the office.
Lena shouldn’t be in there all alone. I ran faster, but then Matilda came jogging down the hall, a can of bug spray dangling from her hands. It was as long as an SUV. I froze.
She hadn’t seen us yet, but if she looked down, she couldn’t avoid noticing me and Chase, pressed up against the door across from the office.
“There’s nowhere to hide,” I whispered. The hallway had no furniture, no convenient mouseholes. Matilda was almost close enough to trample us.
Chase pointed. The door we leaned against was open a tiny crack, just wide enough for a human kid to get through. I sidestepped inside, ready to run out again as soon as Matilda’s back was turned. Unfortunately, Chase had other ideas. He shoved the giant door shut behind us.
“Hey!” The room was so dark that I couldn’t see him, but I glared in his general direction. “We need to help Lena.”
“We can’t help her if we get caught,” Chase reminded me. “Or stepped on. We can pick a good moment and roll under the door.”
Still annoyed, I pressed my ear to the door.
Chase sniffed. “Sulfur?”
Matilda’s footsteps turned sharply as she ran into the office.
“I asked for the flyswatter, not the spray,” Jimmy said, exasperated.
“Do you hear that?” Chase asked.
On our side of the door, something—or several somethings—hummed in the dark. It sounded familiar—like the Jaws theme, but with one extra hissing note, a few octaves higher than Sparkia’s version. I should have realized what they meant right away, but I was a little distracted by what was happening in the office.
I couldn’t hear what Matilda said, but then Jimmy shouted, “He’s too quick for the spray. I need the flyswatter. Or the ax. The ax would work on him.”
“Him,” I repeated, relieved. “The Snow Queen must’ve sent somebody else. Maybe they haven’t seen Lena yet.”
“Rory, this isn’t the time to be worrying about other people,” Chase said in a low voice.
Flame bloomed less than twenty feet from us. Green and gold scales glittered and faded into the darkness. Spots danced in front of my eyes, and the humming intensified.
“Draconus melodius. They don’t usually move in a herd,” Chase whispered. “I think we just walked into a litter of dragons.”
“Don’t tell me that Sparkia’s a mom,” I said, horrified.
Chase was ahead of me, closer to the danger. “We should have guessed there was more than one. Remember Solange’s letter? ‘My darlings’? And I bet the mouseholes were dragonet holes.”
“At least they’re smaller.” We survived the Glass Mountain, I reminded myself as my pulse thumped in my ears. We could survive a bunch of overgrown lizards. “And they stopped humming.”
“So? The young ones are always hungry,” Chase said. I heard scales slide on the ground, but I couldn’t see anything. “This fight is going to suck in the dark.”
That was the lightbulb moment—the magical lightbulb moment. The young will lie in the dark. I pulled my pack in front of me.
One baby dragon started to growl.
“That means they’re about to attack,” said Chase. As I dug frantically in my pack’s front pocket, his sword rasped out of its scabbard. “Crap.”
There was movement, and then the sound of a sword against scales, and then answering growls from the other dragons. “Go,” Chase said. “Crawl under the door. I’ll try to buy you some time.”
Obviously, someone woke up in a self-sacrificing mood.
“Don’t be so dramatic.” My hand closed over the glass vial. I ripped it out, held it to my mouth, and whistled.
It flared to life, filling the room with white light. There were nine dragons, each only ten feet long from tail to snout.
“That’s helpful.” Chase slashed at a pair of jaws that nipped too close. He leaped into the air to give himself some distance, but he didn’t see the dragon at his back rear up on its hind legs.
“Behind you!” I shouted, pointing.
It was too late. The closest dragon lunged forward and sank its long gray teeth into Chase’s shoulder. He screamed.
“Chase!” I ran forward, Rapunzel’s light in one hand and my sword in the other.
Suddenly, everything else was in slow motion, and the runner’s high returned.
It was the exact same feeling I’d gotten when I realized that Ferdinand wanted to kill Lena—a fierce, clearheaded rage. By myself, I might have been baby dragon food, but I wasn’t going to let Chase get killed.
If I had to fight off a bunch of baby dragons to make sure that happened, then bring the dragons on.
One dragon swiped at me, its claws extended. I slashed without slowing, and it howled.
Thank goodness for magic swords.
The dragon that had Chase shook its head, like a puppy playing with a chew toy. Chase yelled again, moving his sword from his right hand to his left. He tried to stab at its eye, but the angle was too awkward. Another dragon reached up to nip at his dangling legs.
I rolled to dodge the teeth of the baby dragon on my right, spinning until I knelt in front of the dragon trying to eat Chase’s legs, and I shoved my sword into its chest. It gave a rattling sort of honk and started to topple over. I pulled my sword out as it fell and stepped on its shoulder, using it as leverage as I leaped toward the one biting Chase. As I fell back toward the floor, I pressed my sword down on its neck, the way I remembered George doing in Yellowstone. Its head thudded to the floor, and Chase fell with it.
“Ugh,” Chase said breathlessly.
“We have to get out of the way.” I shoved my sword between the teeth of the beheaded baby dragon, prying the jaws open. “The bodies are going to combust.”
Chase cried out again as the teeth left his shoulder with a sucking sound. “No, they won’t. Only one of them is old enough to breathe fire. Otherwise, we’d already be cooked—Crap, look out!”
Another dragon jumped toward us, its teeth open wide. I ducked and popped up on its other side to stab it through the eye. Something slimy covered the back of my hand, and I gagged, pulling back. It slid to the floor, its scales rasping across the tile.
“Three down,” Chase said hoarsely, standing up. He held the teeth-marks with his good hand. The fabric at his shoulder was already soaked with blood. We had to get down the beanstalk fast. He needed medical attention.
The six remaining dragons stood between us and the door. They eyed their fallen siblings and growled. It definitely looked bleak.
“I guess this is the part where I go, ‘Run. Save yourself,’” Chase said in a small voice.
“You already did that,” I pointed out. “Besides, we’ve just started to get along. I can’t let you get eaten now.”
“Thanks, Rory,” Chase said, and even though he was trying to be sarcastic, he did sound grateful.
I shoved Rapunzel’s light toward him. “Hold this. How long do you think we have until Matilda and Jimmy come over to see why they’re so noisy?”
“I’m sure the giants are preoccupied with the new intruder. If they hear anything, they’ll probably think the litter is play-fighting. Dragonets do that, you know—same as puppies. And belie
ve me—not even a giant wants to get in the middle of a dragonet scuffle.”
The littermates started to move into a semicircle around us, their claws clicking on the hard floor. I didn’t know any puppies that did that.
“Lucky us,” I muttered.
“Don’t even worry about killing them. We just need to make it to the exit alive.” He sighed. “I’m not going to be much help.”
“You can still run, right?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s helpful.” Evan’s sister hadn’t even been able to do that much.
I stepped in front, wondering when I’d started liking Chase so much that I was willing to die for him.
The biggest dragon, the leader, warbled a long note. It was a signal. The two at the far ends galloped forward.
The faster dragon came straight at us, teeth extended. I dodged and smashed my hilt into its face, right between its eyes. It dropped.
“Knocked out,” Chase said. “Point for Rory.”
The other one ran in from an angle. I slashed at both eyes, and it retreated, howling. Chase and I sprinted forward.
Another two dove at us together, one biting high and one biting low. I kicked the snout of the one underneath (“Beware the Mighty Snap Kick,” Chase muttered) as I stabbed the tongue of the one above.
“Rory!” Chase pointed to our right, where the biggest dragon leaped, claws out. I held my sword in both hands like a baseball bat, stepped between its forelegs, and swung. It fell on its back, wheezing, a huge gash across his chest.
We were only five feet from the door. I gestured to the crack, looking past Chase. Three dragons stared down at their fallen leader and started to regroup for another attack.
Chase nodded at the closest of the remaining dragons. It looked like it was about ready to burp. “Careful. That’s the one that can breathe fire.” He ran and skidded across the tile, sliding under the door.
I rolled after him, stumbling to my feet on the other side. Flames licked the bottom of the door, and I coughed. The smoke tasted like chemicals.
Chase leaned against the wall, breathing hard. He looked a little amazed. “Do you know what the chances of us making it out of there alive were?”
“The sword’s magic,” I reminded him, avoiding his eyes and wiping the sword clean on my jeans. The blood left a purple-black stain.
“Well, yeah, but you definitely figured out a way to turn the magic on.”
I didn’t know what to say. My hands started to shake, and I sheathed my sword before I dropped it.
Jimmy’s voice boomed across the hall. “Trap him in a corner, Matty. Then I’ll get him.”
Now we had to figure out a way to help Lena.
In the office, Matilda held a wastebasket, trying to catch something human-size and blue that zipped across the room. Jimmy slapped the flyswatter around, always a second too late.
“I’m trying, dear.” The giantess was obviously on the verge of losing her temper.
Something crashed to the floor in the office across the hall, and a bronze-colored lampshade as big as a Jacuzzi rolled through the doorway toward us.
“Lena!” She could be crushed in all the commotion.
“Here!” Lena jumped out of the lampshade. The right lens in her glasses was cracked, but she smiled widely.
The hen clucked a little, her head sticking out of Lena’s backpack. The golden harp was in her hands, gagged with what looked like half of Lena’s sleeve, and she struggled against the shoelaces that Lena had tied around her arms.
“Ready?” Lena ran down the hall without waiting for an answer.
We followed. Chase lagged behind, muttering “Ow, ow, oww” with every step. So I ran back and slid his good arm over my shoulders to hurry him along.
Lena started talking as soon as we reached the fridge. “She sent Bluebeard—the Snow Queen, I mean. I saw that part in the dream. Jimmy was so busy fighting him that he didn’t even notice me, not once,” she said happily, “and I— Oooh, where did you get that light?” I opened my mouth to answer, but then Lena squinted at Chase, sounding alarmed for the first time. “What happened to you?”
Chase grimaced. “I was wondering when you would notice.”
“Baby dragons,” I said.
“Nine of them. I took one for the team, and now I’m bleeding to death,” he said with a proud indifference, like he was practicing for when he’d tell the triplets later.
“At least none of us are afraid of blood,” I said, but then I noticed Lena’s queasy look. “Oh no, Lena.”
“We better go,” she said, averting her eyes from Chase’s shoulder. “It’s only a matter of time before the giants catch on.”
We had to hurry—way too fast for Chase’s comfort. Halfway around the giants’ swimming pool, he even called a halt, sweating with pain and very pale. Blood soaked his collar and ran down his arm in red rivulets.
“I don’t know if we have time for a break.” I couldn’t stop myself from glancing back at the giants’ house.
But Chase just reached out and touched the harp’s head with one finger. She looked up at him, trying to say something through her gag, and golden tears ran down her face. One dropped to the concrete with a clink.
I didn’t catch all the words, but Chase told her something like, “Themora kish desrainth mereati cavolth (mumble mumble).”
Whatever that meant, it worked. The harp blinked and stopped struggling. She even smiled up at Lena coyly.
“We can go,” Chase said, and Lena jogged forward again.
“That wasn’t English.” I adjusted my grip on Chase’s waist and followed her around the pool.
Chase winced and shook his head. “Fey. I’m going to die. If the dragon bite doesn’t do me in, the chlorine fumes will.”
Lena disappeared into the grass. It slowed me and Chase down a lot. He kept tripping over roots, and he was almost heavy enough to drag me down to the ground with him. I was very out of breath and very relieved when Lena stopped.
She bit her lip. “Um, does anyone remember where we left the beanstalk?”
“Doom,” Chase moaned, holding a stalk of grass with a bloody hand. He started to slide dramatically to the ground.
“Not helpful, Chase.” I yanked him back up with maybe more force than necessary. Then his breath hissed through his teeth, and I regretted being so rough.
“Ask the harp.” When Lena looked skeptical, he added, “She won’t scream.”
Lena untied the gag very carefully, acting like she would clap a hand over the harp’s mouth at the first unexpected noise.
The harp only nodded over to the left a little and spoke with an accent I didn’t recognize. “That way, Mistress.”
“Thanks!” Lena took off again.
“The light is growing dim,” Chase said with another exaggerated sigh. “The pain is too great. My vision—”
“Cut it out, Chase,” Lena called back. “You’re scaring Rory. She doesn’t have enough experience to know you’re exaggerating.”
“Is that true, Rory?” Chase asked, surprised. “You worried about me?”
“You’re not looking your best.” I didn’t mention that he was leaning on me twice as much as he had when we left the house.
“Don’t worry,” Chase told me. “I’m as fit as a fiddle. I’m going to live to be an old man and die in my sleep. I—”
“Found it!” Lena cried happily.
The beanstalk had grown a couple feet taller since we’d left it, and through the hole in the clouds below, I could see the green square of the EAS courtyard and the darker green dot that had to be the Tree of Hope. Like clockwork, I started to feel sick to my stomach.
“He can’t climb by himself,” the harp said softly.
Lena and I exchanged glances. Whoever started climbing now would be the safest, and we had to figure out who that would be.
I pushed the nausea away so that I could think clearly. If they caught Chase, Jimmy would either give him to the dragonet litter or to
the Snow Queen.
If they caught Lena, the same might happen, but the Snow Queen would get the harp, too. Lena had to go first, and as fast as she could.
“So, what are my choices?” Chase said. “Climb with the girl afraid of heights or with the girl afraid of blood? Tough call.”
I promised myself that if we made it down alive, I would memorize all the bones of the wrist just for Chase’s benefit. “Go on, Lena. I’ll take him.”
“Are you sure?” Apparently, leave-no-kid-behind was part of Lena’s fearless leader mode.
“Yeah, are you sure?” Chase repeated nervously.
“I think you already have enough to carry,” I told Lena, glancing pointedly at the harp.
Lena nodded and started to climb. “See you at the bottom.”
I had to look down this time. I didn’t have another option, but I tried to look close to the stalk, just as far as the next stem, ignoring all the blue sky around it. I held the sturdiest part of the beanstalk in both hands and lowered myself slowly. Chase watched me, wide-eyed, waiting for a freak-out.
Panic rose and stiffened my limbs. But no. I couldn’t freeze. I knew what would happen if Jimmy caught Chase—dragons or the Snow Queen. My foot settled safely on the next leaf down.
“Okay, your turn,” I told Chase, clinging to the stalk with both hands. My heart beat so hard I could practically feel it hit my ribs. Then I forced myself to look down for the next leaf.
I made Chase climb a little above me. He was careful with the three limbs he could still use, but he had to keep stopping to wipe the blood off his hands. Once, he lost his grip and started to fall backward.
I caught him with both arms, my legs hooked around the stalk. I closed my eyes tight and told myself that there was a safety net below us, that we were only ten feet from the ground.
“You all right?” I hoped that the answer was yes. If he fainted, he would be too heavy to carry, and I couldn’t leave him.
“Yeah,” he said, but it came out more like a grunt. I felt him get his grip back. “So maybe I’m not dying. But it really does hurt.”
Carefully, I spotted the next leaf and blocked everything else out. “Halfway there,” I said, trying to sound cheery. My mouth was so dry that my tongue felt clumsy.
