The Adventurer's Guide to Dragons (and Why They Keep Biting Me)

by Wade Albert White

  “Identity verified,” said the sphere. “Now activating archway.”

  Anne heard the archway activate, but the wall around it blocked their view.

  “What’s down there?” asked Penelope.

  “A place of death and decay,” said the queen. “It is the only place we dragons fear to go, and with good reason. No one, dragon or otherwise, has ever entered and returned. We call it the Never-Ending Maze.”

  “Well, at least it has a fancy name,” Penelope quipped. Despite the brave front she was putting on, Anne could tell her friend was nervous.

  “Lower the platform,” called the queen.

  There was a dull thud somewhere off to the side, and the large disc hanging from the ceiling descended. It stopped level with the top of the wall, covering the archway completely. A set of steps materialized out of thin air.

  “Up you go,” said the guard.

  Anne walked slowly up the steps, and Penelope and Hiro followed. The top of the disc was sectioned off into a five-by-five grid of square tiles, and in the center of each square was a different symbol. Anne didn’t recognize any of the symbols, but she suspected they were part of some dragon system of writing.

  “What do we do now?” asked Anne.

  “It’s really quite simple,” said the queen. “You walk to the other side, proceeding as a group. The only rule is that the same person may not choose two tiles in a row.”

  Off to the side, Nana seemed about to say something, but remained silent.

  Anne studied the grid suspiciously. “That’s it?”

  The queen smiled. “It’s possible you might encounter a few obstacles along the way.”

  Anne turned to Penelope and Hiro. “What do you think?”

  Penelope shrugged. “I say straight across.”

  Hiro nodded in agreement.

  Anne stepped onto the first tile in the center column, and all the dragons in the arena roared with delight. Despite the vastness of the space, it was like encountering a physical wall of sound. The symbol in the center of the tile began to glow, and a wispy blue form rose up in front of them in the shape of a fire lizard. A ghostly form of the symbol from the tile hovered over its head.

  The dragons ceased their roaring. They seemed keen not to miss whatever was about to happen.

  “What has an eye but cannot see?” asked the fire lizard.

  Anne furrowed her brow. “What?”

  She scanned the arena for some hint of what they were supposed to do, but the silent dragon faces betrayed nothing. When she looked back to the fire lizard, she noticed that the symbol above its head had changed and was continuing to change, switching forms every second.

  “What has an eye but cannot see?” the fire lizard repeated.

  “It’s a riddle,” said Hiro. “It wants us to answer the question.”

  “And does anyone happen to know the answer?” asked Penelope.

  Hiro nodded. “I’ve heard this one before. The answer is a needle.”

  “That is correct,” said the fire lizard, and it dissipated back into nothing.

  “Wow,” said Penelope. “That was almost too easy.”

  Penelope and Hiro joined Anne on the first tile, and then Penelope stepped forward to the next one.

  “Wait!” said Hiro, but it was too late. Penelope’s foot had touched the second tile, and the symbol in the center began to glow. Another fire lizard rose up, and again the symbol from the tile appeared over its head.

  “I cannot live without light, yet wherever I touch light, I die,” it said.

  The symbol above it began to change form just like the previous one had. Oddly, Anne thought she recognized a few of the forms.

  “What? What did I do?” asked Penelope.

  “I studied some dragon script at my old school,” said Hiro. “And I think these are numbers.” He pointed back to the first tile. “I’m pretty sure that one is sixty. I’m guessing it meant we had sixty seconds to answer the first question.” He pointed to the symbol on the second tile. “I think that one means fifty.”

  “Then stop wasting time and answer the question,” said Penelope. “How can something both need light to live and die when light touches it?”

  Hiro pressed his hands against his temple. “Think. Think.”

  The “numbers” continued changing in a steady rhythm. Anne stepped onto the second tile beside Penelope to study the changing symbol, wondering if it could possibly hold a clue. A tiny black shape moved across the tile. When she looked up, she saw that it was only the tiny green dragon passing by again. But that meant the black shape on the tile had been its—

  “Shadow,” she said. “The answer is shadow. You need a light source in order to cast a shadow, but a shadow can’t actually exist in the light itself.”

  “That is correct,” said the fire lizard, and it faded away.

  The three of them sighed with relief.

  “Hiro, you’re next,” said Anne.

  Hiro studied the tiles around them. He pointed to the one straight ahead. “I think that one stands for forty. And I’m pretty sure the one after it is the number for thirty. And I bet the last one is twenty. That means this row decreases by ten seconds for every tile we go forward.” He pointed to the tiles in the next rows over. “But the tiles in these rows only decrease by five seconds each time, leaving more time for each question.”

  “Yeah, but going to the side also means doing at least one extra question,” said Penelope.

  “Sure, but more time means—”

  The first tile disappeared and Hiro dropped. Penelope dove and caught his arm with a grunt. The dragons in the arena cheered.

  “Help,” said Penelope.

  With the tile missing, Hiro dangled directly above the barrier. As with the other archway, the surface was dark. Anne grabbed Hiro’s other hand, and together she and Penelope pulled him up onto the second tile with them.

  “Thanks,” said Hiro, his eyes wide with fear. “That was a little too close.”

  “What happened?” said Penelope. “Why did it do that?”

  Anne surveyed the grid. “I’m guessing that either the tiles get removed as you progress across the board, or else we only have so much time between tiles. Meaning we’d better keep moving. Hiro, choose one and let’s get going.”

  Hiro nodded and stepped on the tile to their right. Anne and Penelope followed immediately. As soon as they left the second tile in the center column, it disappeared.

  “The more I eat, the longer I live, but one drink of water would kill me,” said the third fire lizard.

  “Everything needs to eat in order to live longer, doesn’t it?” said Anne.

  Hiro scratched his head. “Good point. And are there creatures that are allergic to water?”

  “It’s fire,” said Penelope with confidence.

  “How did you get that one so quickly?” asked Hiro.

  Penelope stuck out her tongue. “You’re not the only one who reads books.”

  Anne started forward, but Penelope grabbed her arm.

  “What’s the matter?” said Anne. “We need to get moving before the tile disappears.”

  “That fire lizard hasn’t yet disappeared, though.”

  Penelope was right. Instead of fading away to nothing, the fire lizard turned red and burst into flame.

  “That can’t be good,” said Hiro, and he took a step back.

  The fire lizard swooped at them and they ducked. Anne could feel its heat on her neck as it passed.

  “Now what are we supposed to do?” yelled Hiro.

  “It must be related to the riddle,” said Penelope as she ducked another attack. “It turned to fire, so we need to hit it with water. Quick, Hiro, use a water spell.”

  “The current issue of the spell catalog doesn’t have one!”

  The fire lizard turned for another attack. Acting out of impulse, Anne leapt forward and spit at it. The fire lizard ceased its attack and immediately faded away.

  “Seriously?” s
aid Penelope. “You spit?”

  Anne grinned. “I’m surprised you didn’t think of it first.”

  “Good point.”

  Hiro tugged on their sleeves. “We’d better get moving.”

  Anne was about to step on the next tile forward, but Hiro stopped her. “I’m guessing each tile in this column includes an attack after we solve the riddle,” he said. “I recommend we move back to the center column.”

  “How? The tile we left is gone.”

  “True, but now that I think about it, there was no rule against moving diagonally, correct?”

  Anne thought it was risky, but then, the whole thing was risky. She took a deep breath and stepped diagonally to the third tile of the center column. Hiro and Penelope quickly followed, and the tile they left disappeared like the others.

  “I am forever approaching, but never arriving,” the next fire lizard said.

  “Remember, only forty seconds for this one,” said Hiro.

  “But no pressure, right?” said Penelope. “Anyway, no worries, because the answer is the horizon.”

  “No!” said Anne. “That’s not it!”

  Hiro pushed them forward to the next tile, their fifth, just as the one beneath them exploded. They landed hard and were pelted by flying bits of ceramic. The dragons roared with delight, and the fire lizard bore down on them.

  “Tomorrow!” shouted Anne. “The correct answer is tomorrow!”

  The fire lizard melted away.

  “What happened?” said Penelope. “Horizon was a great answer.”

  “The horizon doesn’t approach you, you approach it,” said Anne. “As time moves forward, tomorrow is always approaching, but it never comes because when it gets here, it becomes today.”

  Penelope nodded. “Oh, right. Good one. Thanks for the save, by the way,” she said to Hiro.

  Hiro nodded back. “I owed you one.”

  Anne was glad everyone had decided to put aside their differences, at least for the time being. They stood as the next fire lizard appeared, along with its symbol.

  Anne put a hand on each of their shoulders. “No quick answers this time, okay?”

  “What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?” said the fire lizard.

  “Thirty seconds.” This time it was Penelope who reminded them.

  Anne ran the riddle through her head. The sun dried things but never got wet. A fire that got wetter went out. What had the ability to dry things yet got wet while doing so?

  “A towel,” said Hiro firmly.

  The fire lizard disappeared.

  “My father leaves his wet towels all over the house,” Hiro explained. “Drives my mother crazy.”

  Hiro led them onto their sixth tile, the final one in the column. A hush settled over the arena once again as the fire lizard rose.

  “Wait, that’s not the symbol for twenty,” said Hiro, sounding panicked. “That’s the symbol for ten.”

  “You mean we’ve only got ten seconds?” said Penelope.

  This time, the fire lizard sang out an entire verse:

  I am owned from birth until death,

  Neither borrowed nor stolen can I be.

  Yet I am used most often by others

  And only rarely by the one who possesses me.

  “What did it say? I didn’t even catch all of that!” said Penelope.

  “There was something about being borrowed and stolen,” said Hiro. “And also something about a thing you own from birth until death.”

  Penelope clutched her head in her hands. “I can’t think. None of it makes any sense.”

  The numbers had almost counted down to one, but instead of panicking, Anne smiled. “The answer is your name,” she said confidently. She had spent too much of her life wondering about her own real name not to put those clues together.

  At first nothing happened, and for a brief moment Anne worried that she had in fact answered incorrectly. Then the fire lizard faded, and the arena erupted into cries and jeers. Anne ignored them. She stepped off the last tile and down a second set of wooden stairs that had materialized. Penelope and Hiro followed her, and they walked back over to the spot in front of the dragon queen.

  The arena quieted again, although Anne could still hear mutterings.

  “Congratulations,” said the queen. “You’re the first prisoners to ever make it all the way across the disc.”

  “So are we free to go?” asked Anne.

  “No,” said the dragon queen. “I’m afraid you did not follow the rules. The instructions were that you had to take turns, but your male pushed you and the other female onto the fifth tile when it was the other female’s turn.”

  It was true: Hiro had gone out of turn. Anne wracked her brain for a loophole. “You only said we had to take turns,” she said triumphantly, “not that we had to follow a set order.”

  “True,” said the queen. “But then he also chose the final tile after having chosen the fifth.”

  The queen was right. Technically, Hiro had chosen twice in a row.

  “Guards,” called the queen. “Prepare the prisoners for execution.”

  As the guards moved forward, a large black shape dropped in front of them, blocking the way. It was Nana.

  “I really hate to interrupt the proceedings,” she said, “especially since I just won big in the betting pool, but I’m afraid I can’t let you go through with any executions.”

  The queen looked shocked. “You would dare to defy your queen?”

  Nana bowed her head ever so slightly, which was the most Anne had ever seen her defer to anyone. “You and I both know that the rule about taking turns is not part of the original laws governing the trials. That is your own creation. They completed the trials fairly and according to our most ancient customs, and they should therefore be free to go.”

  “See, this is what happens when you spend too long among humans,” the blue dragon guard muttered to the yellow dragon guard.

  “What are you waiting for?” the queen roared at the guards. “I said, prepare the prisoners!”

  The guards took a hesitant step forward.

  “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear,” said Nana, stretching her wings and rearing back. “I wasn’t asking. I was telling. Leave them alone, or suffer the consequences.”

  The queen shook with rage. “I will not be spoken to in this manner! Guards, seize that—”

  —was all she got out, for in that instant Nana released a huge red fireball. The fireball struck the crystal formation the queen was sitting on and then split into dozens of smaller fireballs, each flying off in a different direction. The arena erupted into a chaos of roars and the frantic flapping of wings as the other dragons fled for cover. Even the queen was forced to retreat.

  “Run!” bellowed Nana.

  Anne scanned the arena, which was wall-to-wall with dragons.

  “Where to?” yelled Anne. “Can’t you fireball us out of here?”

  “Not from inside.”

  Nana let loose another round of fireballs, and then she swung her tail at a brave guard who rushed forward, knocking him into two others who had sensibly decided to stand back and do nothing.

  Nana used her tail to bat two incoming fireballs from other dragons, returning them to their senders. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you,” Nana said to the trio. “But you’d better figure something out because it’s about to get ugly in here.”

  “You mean this isn’t already ugly?” said Penelope. “Wow, dragons are intense.”

  “What about you?” asked Anne.

  “I’ll find my own way out,” said Nana.

  A mad, desperate idea formed in Anne’s head. It defied all common sense, but if they stayed there a minute longer, they were going to get burned to a crisp or torn limb-from-limb.

  “Head for the disc,” shouted Anne.

  Anne ran over to the wooden stairs and up to the outer rim of the disc. Penelope and Hiro followed closely behind. The entire middle column of tiles was now gone,
but the archway was still active.

  “Great idea, but how do we raise it back up to the ceiling?” said Penelope, obviously thinking Anne intended to use the disc itself to escape.

  “We don’t,” said Anne.

  She grabbed each of their hands tightly and pulled them forward with her as she stepped off the edge, forcing them to fall into the archway below.

  THE ADVENTURER’S GUIDE TO EXECUTIONS OFFERS THE FOLLOWING TIP:

  Generally speaking, it is best to skip executions whenever possible, especially if the execution in question is your own.

  The Never-Ending Maze

  They appeared in a cave.

  Or more accurately, they fell into one.

  Lucky for them, the archway was only ten feet above the floor and the ground was soft and mossy, being covered in lichens and some sort of fungus. Anne rolled onto her back and stared up through the archway. Fireballs were still flying about the arena on the other side, and several dragons circled high overhead. Moments later the archway closed and Anne found herself staring at a ceiling instead.

  This was not the arena cavern they had left only moments before. For one thing, the ceiling was considerably lower, and the air was a lot cooler. Anne wrapped her cloak tightly around herself. The real giveaway was the walls and ceiling. They were not made of the arena’s brown and gray rocks. They were smooth and black.

  “This must be the Never-Ending Maze,” said Hiro.

  Penelope looked around. “It doesn’t look like a maze.”

  “You can’t tell what a maze looks like when you’re inside it,” said Hiro.

  “Then how do you know it’s a maze?”

  “Because that’s what the dragon queen called it.”

  Penelope put her hands on her hips. “And do you believe everything the dragon queen tells you?”

  “Wherever this is, we need to find a way out,” said Anne.

  “Just a minute there, missy,” said Penelope. “I’m not done with you yet, either. What’s the big idea of jumping in here with us without so much as a word of warning?”

  Anne shuffled her feet. She knew they’d be upset, and she didn’t have a good explanation. It was a huge risk, and who knew if they would find a way out. She had acted on pure instinct.