by Jim Hines
“It’s not my stupid dragon,” Tamora snapped. “It was trying to catch me.”
“But it’s…you can’t…” Paige took a long breath, visibly trying to compose herself so she could put more than two words together. She swayed like a too-tall dandelion in the breeze. “But…dragon!”
Annoyance gave way to pity. “I was scared too. It’s all right.”
“I’m not scared!” She pointed the bat at Tamora. “When my parents get here, you’re going to jail!”
Tamora blinked twice, and then did something that surprised herself. She laughed.
This only made Paige madder. Her face turned red. “You are such a freak!”
Tamora laughed harder. Only a few days earlier, she would have hurled insults right back at Paige. She’d been so angry at the world for taking Andre away.
But now that anger had a target. She knew what had happened to Andre. Paige’s threats and insults didn’t matter.
“I’m warning you, Carter,” said Paige.
Before Tamora could respond, a clod of dirt stuck Paige’s shoulder. She spun and shook her bat toward Gulk, who was clawing another chunk from the ground. “What are you supposed to be? Some sort of mutant Keebler cookie elf?”
“You threaten Queen Tamora?” Gulk’s next missile spattered on Paige’s chest. “You call me elf?”
“Queen? Her?” Paige laughed, but it was a high-pitched, frightened sound.
“Queen of goblins.” Gulk pointed to the dragon. “Slayer of sewer dragon.”
“It’s not dead,” said Tamora. “Just unconscious. It got zapped with a lot of electricity.”
“Zapper of sewer dragon,” Gulk continued. The other goblins stepped closer, with the pix swooping down from their branches.
“What are you?” Paige moaned.
“Go back inside,” Tamora said, swallowing her laughter and trying to sound reassuring. “The dragon’s been hiding from humans. It’ll probably disappear back into the sewers when it wakes up.”
“You’re crazy.” Paige backed away. “All of you.”
The goblins didn’t appear particularly offended by this. Several looked at one another and shrugged, as if in agreement.
Paige retreated into the house. Common sense screamed for Tamora to do the same, to get as far away as possible before the dragon woke up. But this thing had answers about her friend. Tamora started toward the dragon.
There was a chance Paige could be right about that “crazy” bit…
* * *
Most of the pix were attacking the fence, cutting a long length of wire free of the posts. Two others examined the dragon’s mouth, while Fanta stripped off dented pieces of his armor. Vernors landed on Tamora’s shoulder and tried to tug her away from the dragon.
“Stop that,” said Tamora. “I have to talk to it when it wakes up. It promised to tell me about Andre.”
“Bad idea, lass,” called Captain Coke. “Dragons aren’t known for their honor. Like as not, it’ll gulp you down whole to soothe its pride.”
“What?” In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to punch the dragon’s big, lying snout. “You mean I raced this thing for nothing?”
“I’d not call leading the beast away and saving our skins ‘nothing’,” Vernors said mildly.
Tamora started to answer, but was distracted by the sight of two pix flying the wire from the fence over to Fanta. Fanta bent one end around his waist like a belt. Another pix handed him a plastic sandwich bag. He pulled that over his head and secured it around his neck with a leather cord. Thus attired, Fanta proceeded to climb into the dragon’s mouth.
“What is he doing? What if it wakes up?”
“Don’t worry about him,” said Vernors. “He’s got a blade, and dragons aren’t armored on the inside. If it gets cranky, he’ll give it a thorough gut-stabbing.”
A group of pix fed more wire into the dragon’s mouth as Fanta crawled deeper.
“But why do it at all?”
Vernors chuckled. “Because the scales are too tough to cut through. If you want the dragon’s treasure, you’ve got to go in the hard way.”
“Its treasure?”
“Ah, that’s right. You don’t have dragons on this world.” The pix gave her a fond pat on the ear. “Dragons have two stomachs. One for food, and another for treasure. The second stomach is more of an internal pouch. The dragon can control what goes in and regurgitate it at will. Much safer than leaving your precious goods scattered about some dingy cave to get tarnished or stolen.”
“He’s going into the dragon’s stomach?”
“Aye. That moon-touched buffoon’s one of our best dragon divers. Usually we use a pig’s bladder for air. Smells awful. But we found those clear bags at the boy’s house and figured we’d steal a few. Seemed like they might be useful.”
“Do you fight a lot of dragons in your world?”
“Not if we can help it.” Vernors shook her head. “Most are pets of the Elf Queen. We avoid ’em when we can, but that’s gotten harder lately. She must have sent this one to your world when she realized the Dead King was sneaking refugees through the portal.”
Before Tamora could respond, one of the other pix let out a whoop. Captain Coke ordered them to haul back the wire. Together, they tugged their companion up from the dragon’s gullet. Fanta jumped to the mud and dropped a handful of objects, all covered in yellowish mucus. Tamora spotted a ring, several coins, and a broken smartphone.
“That’s dragon treasure?” Tamora asked dubiously.
“‘Treasure’ is a relative term.” Vernors fluttered away to join the other pix.
Fanta loosened the now-filthy bag around his head long enough to gasp for breath and say, “There’s more down there. I’d say two, maybe three loads.”
Shaking her head, Tamora retreated to join the goblins, watching from a safe distance. “Is this sort of thing normal in your world?” She frowned. “It needs a name.”
Gulk laughed. “The world?”
“Ours is called Earth. What’s yours?”
“Name the world.” He laughed again, this time with disdain. “Stupid humans.”
“Fine, for now, we’ll call your world Bansa.” It was a Korean word meaning “reflection.” At least, she hoped it was. She hadn’t practiced her Korean as much as Dad wanted. It was possible she’d just named Gulk’s world “toilet brush” or “duck waffle.”
Gulk’s eyes went round. “You named the world,” he whispered.
“Just tell me about it, please.”
“Smells better than this world,” said Gulk.
“Much better,” added Pukwuk. “Also, less crowded.”
“Better food,” said another.
“No stupid humans!”
Tamora wasn’t sure which goblin said that last bit, but the rest laughed. At least until they saw her expression. Then they got quiet and wouldn’t make eye contact.
“The Elf Queen and the Dead King,” she said. “Who are they?”
“Elf Queen is queen of elves,” answered Gulk.
Tamora gritted her teeth to stop herself from saying something sarcastic. She took a slow, calming breath. “And the Dead King?”
“Used to be king of elves,” said Pukwuk. “Elf Queen killed him. Sort of.”
“So he’s like a ghost or a zombie?”
“Zombie?” Pukwuk glanced at the other goblins, who looked baffled.
“The walking dead? Always munching on brains?” She held out her arms and pretended to shamble through the mud. “Braaaaaains.”
“No brains.” Gulk absently picked his nose while he talked. “Dead King…broken. Not shiny or pretty anymore. Banished from elves. Rules goblins and other monsters now.”
“Elf Queen wants to kill Dead King,” said Pukwuk. “Kill him dead this time.”
“Dead King wants to kill Elf Queen. Both want to rule world, from one ocean to other.” Gulk raised his voice, like he and Pukwuk were competing for Tamora’s attention. “Elf royalty too hard to
kill.”
“Are elves immortal?”
“Only until they die,” Pukwuk said solemnly.
New cheers heralded the arrival of the next batch of “treasure” from the dragon’s gut. The goblins crept closer to gawk. Tamora pulled out her cellphone. Karina hadn’t returned any of her text messages, so she checked in with Mac instead.
Tamora: Have you learned anything about that willow tree?
Mac: Not much. Ms. Pookie helped me find four new fairy tales, though. One’s from Japan. Another’s a 16th cent. Russian story.
Tamora: I fought a sewer dragon.
Mac: !!!
Tamora: I’m all right. I tricked the dragon into biting an electric fence.
Mac: Send pictures!
Tamora rolled her eyes and turned to snap a few pictures on her phone. She sent the best one to her brother.
Tamora: Those flying things are pix. They’re refugees, like the goblins.
Mac: Are they wearing pop cans? Why is the one pix sitting in the dragon’s mouth?
Tamora: I’ll explain later. When I was at Andre’s house I found a game with an enchanted song. It was part of a spell to lure him to the willow tree.
Mac: Like the Pied Piper leading the children out of Hamelin. How would an elf know enough about video games to do that? The goblins don’t even know how to use a toilet.
Tamora: Don’t remind me.
Fanta emerged with another armful of treasure. This batch included a set of keys and an old pocket watch. Tamora was starting to think that second stomach was less about storing treasure and more for holding whatever indigestible junk the dragon slurped up as it slunk through the sewers.
A metal bar clinked onto the pile. Tamora lowered her phone. “What was that?”
“Metal bar,” Gulk said helpfully.
Tamora stumbled to the dragon and snatched up the bar. Beneath the mucus, a series of round keys ran most of its length. She stripped off her outermost sweatshirt, now soaked with mud and worse. She’d apologize to Andre for ruining his wardrobe after she got him back to this world. For now, she used the inside of the sweatshirt to wipe off the bar, revealing it to be a polished metal flute.
“Gulk! You can smell magic, right?”
“That’s right,” said Gulk. “Lots of dragon magic-stink here.”
“Forget the dragon. Smell this. Tell me if it’s magic.” She thrust the flute under his nose like a greasy chrome mustache.
Gulk recoiled. “Smells like dragon guts.” His forehead scrunched, and he snatched the flute from her hands. He sniffed again, deeper this time, then extended a dark blue tongue to taste the metal. “Dragon guts and magic.”
She spun around. “Captain Coke! I mean, you with the red and white armor. You said there was a second tune to control Andre and the others?”
“That’s right. The first song primes the target.” Coke flew over and hovered at eye level. “The second gives the caster control.”
“Could this be the flute they used to bring those three humans to your world?” Excitement made her talk faster than usual, the words tripping over one another. “They must have fed it to the dragon afterward, to keep it hidden. If we open the portal, can I use it to call Andre back? How close do I have to get? Is there a particular song, or will anything work? I can’t play the flute, but I’m sure I can find someone who does.”
“Easy, lass,” said the pix. “If you’re right, you’d likely need to be close enough for them to be hearing the tune. Beyond that, you’d have to ask the elf who enchanted the thing.”
“How can I do that if we don’t even know who…” Her question died as she spied the engraving at the flute’s mouthpiece. She wiped a smear of slime away with her thumb.
Karina,
You are the music of my life.
All my love,
Dad
For a long time, she stared at the text. There was no last name. But the willow tree was in Karina’s backyard. The elves had taken her brother.
Karina Lord’s flute had lured Andre, Kevin, and Lizzy into another world.
Chapter 12: Agent of Elves
Could Karina Lord be working for the elves?
Tamora discarded the thought as quickly as it had come. Karina was the one who’d sought Tamora out. Maybe not deliberately, but it was her text that had led Tamora this far. She’d shared the prophecy. She’d brought Tamora and Mac to her home and helped discover the red willow.
Tamora’s hand tightened around the cold flute. With her other, she retrieved her phone and texted Karina.
Tamora: I know you’re mad at me, but I found something you have to see. Something that might help us get them back.
To Captain Coke, she asked, “What will the dragon do when it wakes up?”
The pix chuckled. “If it had any shred of honor, it’d kill itself from the shame of losing to a human. Bein’ a dragon, it’ll slink back into its hole and compose bad poetry.”
“Poetry? Really?”
“It’s a dragon thing.” The pix studied her for a long time. “You really think you can stand against the pointy-ears? Muck up their plans, bring the humans back, and all that?”
“I stood against that, didn’t I?” She pointed to the dragon
“It’s one thing to beat the pet. It’s another to face the master.”
Her phone went off before she could answer. Relief filled her chest when she saw Karina’s name. “Sorry. Hold on.”
Karina: What did you find?
Tamora: I’ll show you. Meet me in an hour. Same place we met yesterday?
Karina: Sure! I’ll see you at your house.
Tamora frowned. Karina’s mind might be spending a bit too much time in Bansa, but would she really have forgotten their encounter at Cornerside Pizza?
It could be an innocent mistake. It could also be something darker. Tamora hunched her shoulders and typed a response.
Tamora: I meant where we first met. Behind the skating rink, remember?
Karina: Right. Sorry. See you there.
Tamora: Great!
“What’s wrong, lass?” asked Coke.
“I think Karina’s in trouble.” Tamora stared at her phone. “But if I’m right, we might have a chance to surprise the dragon’s master.”
* * *
Dad was sleeping when she got home. Mac was in the living room, reading on his tablet. He started laughing the moment he saw her.
Tamora was a muddy mess, her pants so filthy you couldn’t tell what color they were supposed to be. Andre’s ruined sweatshirts hung heavy on her torso. Her bare socks squished mud on the floor.
“Let’s see how you look after fighting a dragon.” She crossed the room and handed him Karina’s flute. “Keep this safe. I think it’s what lured Andre, Kevin, and Lizzy away. I’m pretty sure Karina’s in trouble.”
Mac started to rock, moaning in distress as he tapped his screen. “Let’s go.”
“I need you to stay here. You’ve got to protect the flute.” Her brother was super smart about some things, but he wasn’t in the best physical shape. “Keep trying to figure out how to get through that tree. If we can open the portal, this flute might help us get everyone back.”
He shook his head, more distressed than Tamora had seen him in a long time.
“It’s all right. I’ve got the pix with me. But I have to hurry.” She went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of Gatorade, downing half of it without stopping to breathe. She finished the rest on the way to her room, where she shut the door, then opened the window to let Fanta and Captain Coke in.
“What did that poor beastie do to deserve imprisonment?” Fanta demanded, pointing at Woodstock.
“He broke his wing. I brought him home.”
“And kept him here?” Fanta flew up to hover in front of the cage, which prompted Woodstock to go into one of his fits, flinging seeds and water through the bars. “Hey, watch it, featherbrain!”
Tamora stripped off the sweatshirts and used the driest one to wipe sweat a
nd worse from her face and hair. She really needed a shower, but there was no time. “How do I stop an elf from using magic on me?”
“That’s easy,” said Coke. “Stay as far away from ’em as possible.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Sure you can. You’re just choosing not to.”
It had been a long couple of days, and her muscles were knotted like wet rope. She sat down against the wall and stretched her legs. “You understand the plan?”
“’Course we do,” snapped Fanta. “Our brains may be tiny, but they work well enough. It’s not like we’re goblins.”
Tamora had considered bringing the goblins along as well, but subtlety wasn’t their strong point. For this to work, any attack had to be a surprise. “You’ve been fighting a war with elves for years. Isn’t there anything else you can tell me?”
“Strike fast,” said Coke. “Let an elf have the first move, and you’ve lost.”
“The only safe elf is a dead elf,” Fanta said firmly. “And even the dead ones aren’t safe. The Elf Queen tried to kill her mate, and look how that turned out.”
“No killing. We don’t know where Karina is. We don’t know how to get the other humans back.” Tamora considered grabbing a hammer from Dad’s tool kit, but showing up with any kind of makeshift weapon would be too suspicious. “If this works, we could end your world’s war tonight.”
“Aye.” Coke nodded solemnly. “And if it fails, we could all be killed.”
“Then don’t fail.”
* * *
The two pix rode in her old school backpack with the zipper partially open. It was far less conspicuous than having a pair of dented pop cans flying after her. The rest of the pix had flown ahead to get into position.
She avoided the main roads as much as possible. As they neared the skating rink, both pix flew off with a buzzing sound that made her want to hunch her shoulders and grab the nearest flyswatter. Instead, she slowed to wipe her face and catch her breath.
Three vehicles sat in the back parking lot, including Ms. Anna’s silver minivan. It was parked close to the building, out of sight of the road. Loud music inside the rink should keep anyone else from hearing their conversation. Or any cries for help.