Bad Luck

  Gone were the mounds of rocks that had taken up so much of the cave. In place of the mounds stood the dragon in all its glory. So gray and craggy was the great beast that it looked like it had been carved out of the very cave it had been sleeping in.

  The dragon shook itself again, this time spreading its wings a bit and giving its tail a powerful swish.

  More rocks fell to the cave floor, but with the rocks came something else. It looked like pieces of crust. Big, gray, rocky pieces of crust. Falling off the dragon’s legs and tail.

  Soon, even bigger pieces were falling from the dragon’s stomach and back, like sheets of old, rusty armor.

  “What’s it doing now?” whispered Brett.

  “I don’t know… shedding its skin?”

  “Like a snake?”

  “I guess…”

  Without warning, the dragon opened its mouth. And for a moment Clay and Brett were looking at a long, forked ruby-red tongue and row upon row upon row—three rows!!!—of jagged yellow teeth.

  They held their breath, fearing the worst: The dragon had decided to eat them after all!

  The dragon opened wider and wider and then—so fast they felt a wind blow—clamped its jaws shut.

  As Clay and Brett exhaled with relief, the dragon’s face peeled off in a single, horrible piece that perfectly preserved the giant, terrifying shape of the dragon’s eye sockets, nostrils, and jaws. The old gray skin hung briefly from the dragon’s neck before dropping to the ground like a discarded Halloween mask.

  “Whoa…” murmured Clay.

  A new dragon stood before them, with scales as pale and shiny as a pearl, so smooth and slinky that you could hardly see where one scale began and another ended.

  “I know, it’s—I mean, they’re—” Brett addressed the dragon, stammering. “I mean you’re beautif—”

  Clay and Brett jumped as the sound of an explosion somewhere above echoed in the cave.

  The dragon didn’t move, but its scales bristled as if a strong wind were passing through them.

  “What was that?!” said Clay.

  “Sounds like my dad,” said Brett grimly. “He’s always exploding stuff. Except usually he’s looking for oil. Not dragons.”

  There was another explosion, louder and closer than the first.

  The dragon kept standing still. Its scales bristled again, this time briefly flushing red—a sign, Clay was sure, of anger or agitation.

  “Leave,” he urged the dragon. “Go! Please! Now!”

  “Yeah, Ariella, shoo!” said Brett.

  Clay gave him a look. “I can’t believe you just told a dragon to shoo.”

  “Well, why isn’t it moving? Ariella, bad people come! Scary! Away! Go!” said Brett, louder this time.

  Clay put his fingers to his lips and listened to some inaudible signal coming from the dragon.

  Suddenly, his eyes glazed over, and his voice became low and gravelly. “There is no need to shout, puny human creature.”

  Brett looked at him. “Clay? This isn’t really the time for jokes.”

  “What have we to fear from humans?” Clay continued in the same strange voice. “Humans presumed to hunt us before and paid the price. Your kind is no more a threat to us than a fly.”*

  “Sorry, it’s—it’s just that—” Brett stammered.

  “You are scared, human?”

  Brett nodded.

  “Then you may stand behind us.”

  Clay opened his eyes. “We should stand behind Ariella.”

  “I know, you just said—or they did.”

  “You can hear Ariella, too?” asked Clay, confused. Evidently, he did not remember having Ariella speak through him.

  “No… never mind,” said Brett. “Let’s just do what the dragon says—”

  They stepped behind the dragon’s legs as another explosion rocked the cave, this one closer still.

  Closer than close.

  Smoke billowed in the cave, and rocks fell around them. A bright, fiery light briefly blinded their eyes.

  They could hear voices cheering. “Woo-hoo!” “Look at those crystals!” “What is this place?!”

  As the smoke cleared, Clay and Brett peered out from between the dragon’s legs.

  Brett’s father’s crew had entered the cave. Holding long spearguns in their hands, and fully outfitted in fireproof suits and helmets, they looked as though they were ready to wage battle on the moon.

  They shouted when they saw the dragon.

  “There it is!” “What a monster!” “Look at those claws!” “And that tail!” “Stay back!”

  In answer, the dragon—its skin now glowing red-orange like the lava—reared its head back and—

  —roared. An intense burst of blue fire scorched the ceiling of the cave and carried all the way to the entrance to the tunnel.

  It was a warning blast only. But, oh, what a warning.

  “Oh, man, that was sick,” murmured Clay, awestruck. “Did you see how blue the fire was?”

  “They say blue flames are the hottest,” said Brett.*

  The terrified dragon hunters all took a step backward. They seemed to be unsure whether to run or fight.

  “They’re all going to die, aren’t they?” Brett stared at them. “I wonder if my dad’s with them. I mean, sure, I hate him, but…” He faltered, stricken.

  Clay looked from Brett to his dad’s crew, hesitating. Then he put his hand on the dragon’s leg. “Ariella, please give them another chance,” he whispered, unsure whether the dragon could hear him, let alone understand him. “Just scare them again—I’m sure they’ll run.”

  The dragon narrowed its eyes to slits, looking from Brett to his father’s crew, very much as Clay just had. The boys waited nervously. Judging by the low growl coming from the dragon, it wanted nothing more than to firebomb every last person in the cave.

  Finally, the dragon let out another big fiery roar, even bigger and fierier than the last.

  But still a warning only.

  The hunters did not run.

  “Now!” somebody yelled. “Shoot—now!”

  Suddenly, hundreds of long shining darts sailed through the air toward the dragon, like a school of needlefish attacking a sea monster.

  Most rebounded off the rocks, echoing throughout the cave.

  More than a few hit the dragon, however.

  Enraged, the dragon stood on its hind legs and, aiming lower now, let loose a tremendous blast of fire that singed the tops of the hunters’ helmets. It was not yet a direct attack, but it was something more than a warning; it was a roar to remember.

  There were screams and shouting. The arm of a man’s suit caught on fire, but his closest neighbor quickly doused it with a fire extinguisher.

  The dragon stared, its big golden eyes blinking. Clay could tell that Ariella was even more taken aback than he was. In the dragon’s experience, humans were not a fire-resistant species.

  “Again!”

  The hunters took advantage of the dragon’s surprise, releasing a second, longer volley of darts. More of them hit their target this time, tearing the dragon’s wings and hobbling its legs.

  Once again, the dragon breathed fire upon its assailants, but the fire came out as a cough—more a protest of pain than a lethal weapon.

  “Again!”

  Clay could feel each dart as it pierced the dragon’s tender new skin, and he could feel the drugs working their dark magic in the dragon’s veins. He was filled with rage and despair—whether his own or the dragon’s, he couldn’t tell—until he found himself slipping under.…

  Fear not—we shall see you again. The thought came to him unbidden and very faint, as if it had floated a great distance.

  Brett brought him back with a sharp pinch on the arm. He pulled Clay into the shadows.

  The dragon had fallen to the ground, and its long tongue was hanging out of the side of its mouth in a way that to Clay seemed like an insult to the majestic beast.

  The hunters rushed over
to it with heavy loops of chain in their hands, as well as the big muzzle Brett had seen on the ship.

  “Quick! Before it wakes it up!” “I’m not getting near that thing!” “Just do it before I shoot you in the eye!”

  As Clay and Brett watched, three very nervous men clamped the muzzle onto the sleeping dragon’s jaws while others wound chains around its legs and wings.

  “We have to stop them,” said Clay, horrified.

  “How, exactly?”

  “If I can just get that muzzle off, then Ariella can—”

  “First of all, you’ll never get the muzzle off,” said Brett. “Second, the dragon is totally unconscious—”

  “I know, and it’s my fault,” said Clay, miserable. “I said those guys would run away.”

  “Uh-huh, and if you hadn’t, most of them would be dead now. And they probably would have caught Ariella in the end anyway.”

  Now the dragon was being wrapped in an enormous tarp that connected by way of a big hook to a heavy iron chain.

  The chain went taut, and the tarp started sliding across the rocky floor. Somewhere outside the mountain, a crank was turning, pulling the dragon slowly out of the cave.

  Whooping, the victorious hunters held on, catching a ride.

  Brett and Clay watched, aghast, no longer bothering to hide.

  At the sight of them, one of the men said something into his walkie-talkie, and the dragon abruptly stopped moving. The man tore off his helmet and took a step toward our heroes. He resembled Brett only a little bit around the eyes, yet Clay knew immediately it was Brett’s father.

  He stared at his son in astonishment. “Brett?!”

  “Yep. And still alive. Disappointed?”

  “Very funny.” Brett senior turned to his crew. “This here is my son, everyone! We found him after all. What are the chances? Today is my lucky day!” He turned back to Brett and opened his arms. “Come here and hug your father. I was so worried, I can’t tell you.”

  Brett looked at him suspiciously. “I don’t think so.”

  “What do you mean?” said his father, still smiling. “Not still sore at me, are you?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Okay, if that’s how you want to play it,” said Brett senior, dropping his arms. “What the heck are you doing here, anyway?”

  “Stopping you from taking that dragon,” said Brett boldly. “What do you think?”

  Brett’s father’s face turned cold. “What are you going to do, threaten to call PETA again? A lot of good that did.”

  Brett’s lip trembled a little, but there were no tears. “You tried to kill me. A lot of good that did.”

  “Oh, get over it,” Brett senior scoffed. “I know how good a swimmer you are. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it another way.…”

  “Nobody’s that good,” said Brett. “I was just lucky.”

  His father opened his mouth to argue, but then, looking at his companions, he switched gears. Apparently, he didn’t want to fight with his son in front of them. “Let’s forget about all that. This is a chance to start over. Promise me you’ll quit this save-the-whales nonsense. Then we’ll go home and—”

  “And watch you put a dragon’s head on your trophy wall? No, thanks.”

  Brett senior laughed derisively. “Is that what you think this is about?”

  “Isn’t it? Or is the dragon being sold as belts and wallets? Oh, and let’s not forget those dragon-skin purses and shoes. They’ll be to die for!”

  “If you bothered to ask instead of making your wild accusations, you’d know that Amber’s friends are building a dragon sanctuary in the Kalahari Desert.”

  “A sanctuary?” echoed Brett, dubious. “Didn’t you just tell me to stop saving the whales?”

  “Only so you don’t look like an idiot. Amber is a dedicated environmentalist. The whole idea is to prevent the species from going extinct.”

  “So that’s why you shot a thousand darts into the dragon?”

  “Come on, would you want to travel with a dragon that wasn’t muzzled and chained?”

  Brett shrugged. His father had a point.

  “I still can’t believe you’re doing all this to save an animal. I’m sorry, but it doesn’t really sound like you.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I haven’t gone completely soft.” His father laughed. “There’s money involved, too—plenty of it.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” said Brett.

  His father reddened. “What’s wrong with win-win? Look, I’m sorry if I said some harsh things. I want to make it up to you, the… accident and everything.” He gestured to the dragon behind him. “After we get this guy where he’s going, we can go on another trip. Just you and me.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Wherever you want.”

  Brett wavered. Was it possible his father meant it?*

  “Hey, boss. Look—” One of the other men pointed to the dragon. It was moving under the tarp.

  “Well, shoot it again, moron!”

  As another volley of darts hit the dragon, one of its long claws poked through the tarp and shredded a few inches of the heavy canvas. Then the dragon’s body jerked a last time, and its movements subsided.

  Clay shuddered in sympathy. Brett looked from him to the dragon to his father.

  “It’s now or never,” Brett senior said to his son. “You don’t come with me, chances are you’re not getting out of here at all.”

  Brett hesitated, torn between conflicting emotions and loyalties. “Will you take Clay up, too?”

  Brett senior glanced at Clay. “Sorry. He’s seen too much already. Can’t afford the risk.”

  “Then never!”

  Now Brett had proof his father was every bit as heartless as he had suspected.

  Clay looked at him in surprise. “That’s crazy. At least one of us should—”

  Brett shook his head. “We’re friends. Friends stick together, right? Not that I would know…”

  “Very principled,” sneered Brett senior. “And very stupid.”

  “Maybe so,” said Brett. “But before you go, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.…”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “Your hair plugs look terrible. You’re not fooling anybody.”

  Brett’s father clenched his jaw. “They just haven’t grown in yet. Soon my hair’s going to be thicker than ever. You’ll see. Or maybe you won’t.” He raised his walkie-talkie to his mouth. “Take us up!”

  He continued to bark orders to his crew as he was pulled into the tunnel along with the dragon.

  The last words Clay and Brett could hear were, “Yes, I said light it, darn it!”

  Thirty seconds later, there was another explosion and—

  —the entrance to the tunnel collapsed behind him.

  Shocked, Clay and Brett watched rocks tumble around them; the way they’d come into the cave was no longer the way out.

  CHAPTER

  SIXTEEN

  UP

  They stared, unmoving, at what had once been the tunnel entrance. There was nothing left but rubble. And clouds of dust.

  Brett kicked a boulder with his foot. It wouldn’t budge.

  “We’ll never be able to clear all these rocks away,” he said, the implications just beginning to dawn on him.

  “Nope, never,” Clay agreed, expressionless.

  “Which means we can’t get out.”

  “Yup.”

  “Which means we’re stuck here forever,” said Brett, who was getting more and more alarmed by the second.

  “Yup,” Clay repeated.

  “Which means we’re going to die down here after all!”

  “Yup.”

  “Yup!? That’s it?! You’re not going to tell me we can at least try to move the rocks or something?”

  Clay looked at Brett, then back at the pile of rocks. There was no doubt the situation was bleak. Worse than bleak. He had been so concerned about the dragon’s f
ate, he had forgotten to worry about his own.

  “We can try to move them,” he said. “Won’t do any good.”

  “Then maybe there’s another way out?” Brett pressed.

  Clay shook his head. “I don’t see one.”

  “Can’t you at least be upset about it?”

  “I am. I just—”

  “What? Don’t care?” said Brett, exasperated. “I mean, sorry if you detect a note of panic in my voice, Mr. Cool Guy, but personally, I’d rather not die down here. I happen to have a very different plan for my death that involves a few delectable items of the food variety, such as—”

  Clay smiled sardonically. “Those Jell-O parfaits?”

  “Yes! Those Jell-O parfaits, and then—”

  “Shh.” Clay put his finger to his lips. “Did you hear that?”

  “What?”

  “I thought I heard somebody calling my name.”

  “I didn’t hear anything.…”

  They looked around the cave. There was no sign of anyone else—or of any activity at all.

  “Could it be Ariella, like, mentally calling you?” Brett suggested tentatively.

  Clay tilted his head, considering. “Nah, the voice was coming from somewhere in this cave. And, anyway, Ariella must already be out of the mountain by now.”

  “Wait a second!” said Brett, getting excited. “Think. There has to be another way out of here. How did Ariella get in, in the first place? Not through the tunnel. They had to bomb the tunnel to make it big enough for a dragon, right? And if there’s another way in, then…”

  “There’s another way out,” said Clay, catching on. “I like your thinking.”

  “But where is it?” Brett anxiously scanned the cave walls.

  Clay nodded to himself. “I know where.”

  “Well…?” Brett prompted.

  “Up.”

  Brett glanced upward. His excitement vanished.

  “Um, you’re not talking about that, are you?”

  There was one visible opening: a fissure in the ceiling. It was large—more than large enough for Clay and Brett, large enough for even a dragon—but it was about thirty feet high, and directly above the lava pit.