Blast of the Dragons Fury (Andy Smithson Book One)

  Chapter Three

  The King’s Taster

  A rooster awakened Andy the following morning. He knuckled sleep from his eyes, trying to orient himself. Foggy sun shone through a window to the left of his bed, struggling to illuminate the large stone-lined chamber. It wasn’t a dream.

  Like most other rooms he had been in the day before, this one was sparsely furnished. His bed stood in the middle of a long wall. At one end a dressing area had been arranged with a mirror, two freestanding closets, and a lumpy, overstuffed chair that looked like someone’s attempt to soften the otherwise spartan décor. At the other end stood the large fireplace. The fire had long gone out. The wooden door on the wall opposite his bed displayed the King’s blue coat of arms above it.

  A soft knock disturbed his study of the space and he slipped from between the warm covers. His bare feet hit the cold stone floor and sent a shiver up his back.

  “Please excuse me, sir. I was told to assist you in dressing and to bring you down to breakfast.”

  It was the boy with neon-green hair he’d seen yesterday.

  “Why do you call me sir?” Andy asked, allowing him entrance.

  “Because you are a guest of His Majesty.”

  “Just call me Andy, okay?”

  “Oh...okay. If that’s what you prefer, sir. Oh, I mean…uh, sure Andy.”

  They stepped over to the dressing area. To Andy’s surprise, a clean pair of blue jeans and a bright blue long-sleeved T-shirt lay neatly folded on the arm of the chair. The T-shirt had the intricate royal crest sewn on the left sleeve. It looked like both had been ironed for no wrinkles dared show themselves. He chuckled. Andy usually wore extremely wrinkled T-shirts because he hated folding and putting away his clean laundry, one of his assigned chores. Mom always complained his clothes made him look like he had slept in a laundry basket.

  “His Majesty had the tailor make these for you overnight so you would be most comfortable. The tailor will make you more today. I’ll hang them in your closets when they’re ready.”

  “Can the tailor make black T-shirts?” Andy hoped aloud. “Black is my favorite color.”

  “Black T-shirts are reserved for the King.”

  Oh well, it was worth asking. Andy only wore black T-shirts at home, preferring that to colors.

  “Please follow me,” the boy instructed after Andy finished dressing.

  “Thanks for helping me. I don’t think I could’ve remembered how to get back to the dining hall.”

  The boy smiled.

  “I can’t remember your name,” apologized Andy as they exited his chamber and headed toward the stairs.

  “My name is Alden.”

  “That’s right! Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. You don’t have to remember my name. I’m just a servant.”

  “But—”

  “Good morning, Andy!” boomed a voice, interrupting the conversation as they entered the dining hall. “Did you sleep well?” The King beckoned him over with a wave.

  “I’ll leave you to it then.” The boy bowed then turned.

  The hall looked different this morning. The three long tables had been shoved over by the wall and the black banners taken down. The colorful community banners had been moved and now draped the wall—the aqua banner was cleaner than he’d seen it last. Only what had been the head table remained. The King, again dressed in his black T-shirt and faded jeans, sat at one end with Mermin at the side closest to him.

  A short, bald servant with a beak-like nose and curiously long arms extending nearly to his ankles tasted the King’s breakfast.

  “Everything seems to be in order, Your Majesty,” the man finally declared. He bowed to the King, but as he turned to leave, he scowled at Andy.

  What? I didn’t do anything wrong!

  Andy took a seat across the table from Mermin. Immediately another servant brought him a bowl of Apple Jaxs, toast, and a tall glass of milk. How could they know that’s my favorite cereal? Where’d they get it from?

  “Yes, I had a feeling you’d like that, Andy,” the King intoned, then winked. “Mermin and I were just discussing how to get the Us Pus box working. Perhaps you can give us some insight.”

  Not used to being asked his opinion, let alone made to feel like he had any expertise to contribute, Andy stammered, “Uh, sure.” He bit into his toast. “But what’s an Us Pus box?”

  “After breakfast, let’s all go up to the laboratory. It’s up there.”

  When they’d eaten their fill, the three adjourned. As they walked Andy asked, “Have you figured out how to send me back home yet?”

  “Goodness no, not yet. What with the Curse Day Remembrance and everything else going on, we’ve not had any time to work on it. Don’t worry though, that is Mermin’s next task. I expect you will be home very shortly.”

  Somehow I doubt that. Andy bobbed his head, choosing to let it go…for now.

  They walked up to the fifth floor and into the laboratory, which had been cleaned up since yesterday. The tables had been righted, the broken beakers cleaned up, and the floor mopped. It smelled like lemon. Against the far wall stood Andy’s mailbox with the stones from its base in a loose arrangement.

  The King walked over and indicated with a flourish of his arm, “The Us Pus box.”

  “That’s my mailbox. You took it yesterday.”

  The King cleared his throat. Mermin raised a finger and objected, “We bowwowed it. We just want to see how it works.”

  “Why do you call it an Us Pus box?”

  “Because that’s what it says. See here? USPS.” The King pointed to the raised letters on the door.

  “Umm, USPS stands for United States Postal Service. It’s a mailbox.”

  “Can you show us how it works?” The King looked at Andy with hopeful eyes. “How do you get it to give you those papers?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mermin has been watching several…uh, mailboxes for me.”

  “Wait, you watch people’s mailboxes?”

  “Oh yes,” the wizard confirmed. “The King has me observe all sorts of things for him. I’ve observed pawades and carnivals, aiwplanes and cars and people—all sorts of things. Sometimes we bwing a book or something back to study further.”

  Or send trunks to people’s attics perhaps?

  “Yes, yes. I like observing people best. I once observed Steve Jobs. Fascinating guy. The King weally liked how he dwessed, so he started dwessing like him, too. He hoped Mr. Job’s cweativity might wub off on him. Took some doing to get the clothes just wight.” A smile tweaked his lips as he remembered.

  “As I was saying,” the King asserted, “he tells me papers magically appear in them. Sometimes there are thick picture books and other times there are thin papers inside…what do you call them? Envelopes, is it? Isn’t that what you call them, Mermin?” He looked to the wizard who nodded.

  “Mermin’s theory is that what appears is based upon how happy you are. The happier you are, the more magical papers appear. The less happy you are, the fewer papers you receive. Is that right?”

  “Uh, no.”

  For the next hour, Andy explained what he knew about the postal service and mail carriers. He cleared up the King’s misconception that the dogs that chased the mail carriers were sent by their masters to demand more magical mail be left for them.

  He also assured the King he would never receive any mail and pointed out tampering with the US Mail was a crime punishable by imprisonment.

  “Send it back, Mermin! Send it back!”

  The wizard attempted to reverse the settings of the Appearo Beam, but as Andy had expected, his attempts failed. He did manage to suck a duck that had been innocently flying over the castle into the laboratory. It stood there, several feathers short, quacking its disgust until a servant came and chased it around the space, sending papers flying and beakers crashing. The servant finally cornered it and removed it to the kitchen. No sooner had that servant left than a kitchen ser
vant apologetically interrupted, explaining lunch would be delayed because anything in or near the fireplaces had been inexplicably sucked up the chimneys by a great whirlwind.

  “Out of curiosity, why were you watching my mailbox?” Andy wondered, bringing the pair’s attention back.

  “We wanted to see if being on your mail route might bring us magical papers to help us figure out how to break the curse.”

  “But why my mailbox?”

  “It just happened to be one of the mailboxes I was observing,” replied the wizard.

  What a strange ‘coincidence.’ He observes my mailbox and I end up here.

  “Oh well, one less thing to try in breaking the curse,” the King reasoned as they headed down for a late lunch. “Mermin, I need you to keep trying to send that mailbox back. I don’t want to be imprisoned for taking it.”

  “Of course, Majesty.”

  Andy could only shake his head.

  The three governors from the surrounding communities had stayed overnight and now joined them for lunch. As with the previous evening, Andy saw their clothes were trimmed in crimson, yellow, and aqua, corresponding to the color of their community. They looked much better without cranberry sauce, squash, and mashed potatoes accenting their attire.

  The King informed, “This afternoon, the governors, Mermin, and I will be finishing up plans for the Oomaldee Festival that starts in a few days. After lunch, why don’t you explore the castle on your own. Just stay out of the dungeon, it’s dangerous.”

  Wow! He hardly knows me, yet he trusts me to explore on my own? That’d never happen at home. Andy bit his lip. I’m gonna stay out of trouble…

  “Okay,” Andy accepted. A corner of his mouth inched up but didn’t linger.

  As soon as Andy finished his lunch, he excused himself and set out to discover what secrets he might coax from the castle. He thought about checking out the trunk up in Mermin’s library, but the spiral stairs leading down from the dining hall beckoned. He decided to head that way first and investigate the trunk later.

  As he descended, the stairs broadened into a grand staircase that ended in a huge foyer across from an ornate door. The space was deserted.

  This must be the castle entrance, Andy reasoned, since all the guests from last night’s dinner came from this direction.

  Andy saw doors leading to rooms behind the staircase, but he decided to continue down another set of stairs he spotted behind and to the right. Reaching the next landing, he heard voices echoing down the corridor.

  A small servant girl who looked a little younger than he was halted hurried steps and inquired, “Are you lost?”

  “No, just exploring.”

  “Well, I’m Hannah,” she replied with a smile. Wisps of blond hair peeked out in several directions from under a blue headscarf. She attempted to straighten her blue dress that was wet in places. “Sorry I’m such a mess. I’m helping do laundry.”

  As they spoke, another servant paused on his way down the hallway. The tall, thin man wore a royal-blue tunic and bright green leggings, which Andy now recognized as the uniform for the King’s staff. The man’s face was gaunt and his pepper-gray, patchy whiskers gave him an unkempt look. He bent slightly back, attempting to ballast an oversize bundle of firewood with his chin. The stack shifted unstably. “You lost?” he grimaced, bobbling his arms, perspiration beading his brow.

  “No. I’m exploring the castle on my own since the King and Mermin are busy.”

  “These are the servants’ quarters. Nothing more to see down here other than the dungeons, and they’re dangerous, so don’t even think about exploring there.” The man fought the topmost log with his chin before adding, “Best get yourself back upstairs.”

  The dungeons, huh? So that’s where they are.

  “I better get going,” Hannah intoned. “See you around.”

  “Yeah, see ya,” replied Andy.

  The firewood refused to be controlled and made a bid for freedom, compelling the other servant to quickly excuse himself. Andy watched him wobble down the hallway. When the man vanished from sight, Andy glanced around. The two voices he had heard down the corridor had erupted into a full-blown argument. He closed his eyes and listened, and after a minute satisfied himself no one else was coming. He headed back to the stairs and started down.

  Better get a light, he thought, confronted by the darkness. He found a torch in the entry and lit it on an already glowing one, then returned, creeping down the remaining steps. A green mist greeted him along with the stench of rotten eggs that made his stomach flip. He batted the fog then plugged his nose with his free hand. This is worse than those cow farts.

  Undeterred, he moved the torch forward. In front of him stood a metal door with reinforcing bars running diagonally in both directions across its cold, gray surface and secured by metal rivets. A large dent on the door’s lower left looked like whatever was kept in the dungeon had punched it with a massive fist. Above the door hung a wooden sign with words carved in it. Andy stepped closer. The sign read, Fear Ye to Tread Here. Wisps of green vapor seeped from under the barrier. Cold fingers danced down Andy’s spine.

  Not having enough hands to plug his nose, hold the torch, and open the door, he retreated back to the stairs and up three steps, inhaled deeply, and held his breath. His fingers tingled as he approached the door once more. Gripping the frigid metal of the handle he pressed down. Locked.

  Darn. While his thoughts announced disappointment, his insides didn’t echo the sentiment. He took another swipe at the rancid green vapor then retreated back up the stairs. As he reached the servants’ quarters, Andy heard a soft thrumming emanating from the wall on his right.

  That’s weird. Machinery? Here? I didn’t hear anything before. The protests of creaking wood sounded from the entry hall above. Andy froze. Jubilant voices chased the strange sounds, then evaporated.

  He put his ear up to the stone wall as renewed creaking sounds reached him. Whoosh…whoosh…whoosh…whoosh. Definitely machinery. He felt along the length of the wall but found no opening. About to give up, he stepped on a stone and his foot sunk down. A six-foot section of the wall inched sideways to the sound of stone scraping stone. Andy winced, praying no one came to investigate.

  Whoosh…whoosh…whoosh…whoosh, the rhythm continued, now louder. Andy felt the wall and found the opening led into a second wall.

  How do I open it?

  A loud thud echoed down the stairs and the whooshing ceased. He searched for several more minutes, turning up exactly nothing. Approaching footsteps made him freeze.

  Crap! How am I going to explain?!

  A short, plump woman in a royal-blue dress, white apron, lime-green leggings, and bright purple ponytail noticed him standing with a torch in the shadows and said, “I’m Marta and this is the Drawbridge Power Room. It’s His Majesty’s and Mermin’s invention. It used to take six men to raise and lower the drawbridge. Now they use water power. It’s quite ingenious if you ask me. I have no idea how it works. I just know everyone was told to stay away from it, for safety reasons. By the way, welcome. Sounds like you have an interesting story to tell.”

  “Yeah. The King and Mermin are working out how to get me home.”

  “Well, why don’t you come with me. I’m headed up to the kitchen to help prepare dinner. I think there’s someone you might like to meet.”

  Andy exhaled in relief when she turned and started up without comment concerning his handiwork. He slipped on the damp stone floor as he turned to follow.

  Hmm, didn’t notice that before.

  She headed to the left behind the grand staircase and he followed. The smell of baking bread emanated into the curving stone corridor.

  Mmm…

  As they entered the kitchen a second smell commingled with the first.

  “Are they making chocolate chip cookies?” His mouth watered.

  Marta grinned. “Your nose is very discerning.”

  A hive of activity met them. S
ervants washed and chopped vegetables at sinks along the far wall. Some made sweet desserts at a center island. At another workspace near the fireplace, others prepared freshly butchered chickens and what looked to be the duck that protested in the laboratory earlier. Andy saw Alden peeling potatoes at one of the sinks—he couldn’t miss the neon-green hair. Alden waved.

  “You know my son?”

  Andy laughed. “I figured you had to be related. You’re the only ones I’ve seen with such…such…bright hair.”

  The woman chuckled. “Alden and I fled from the land of Carta a few years back when King Abaddon attacked. My husband and the rest of my family were killed in the fighting. Most people in Oomaldee don’t like foreigners, but King Hercalon is a gracious and generous man and he took us in. We have served in his house since then.”

  “I’m sorry about your family.”

  Marta leaned forward and kissed him once on each cheek. “Thank you.” She paused, then brightened. “Would you like a chocolate chip cookie? They’re the King’s favorite. He tells me they might just be your favorite, too. Although I’m not sure if he told me that so I’d bake more for him.”

  Andy laughed. “Actually, he’s right, they are my favorite. Although my mom never makes them because she’s really busy…and she thinks they’re junk food.”

  “Junk food?” Marta cocked her head.

  “Food that’s not good for you.”

  The woman pushed back a stray purple strand, wrinkled her brow, and opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.

  Yeah, I guess they wouldn’t have junk food here.

  “I can’t wait to learn more about your home.” The woman immediately made Andy feel at ease. She was so different from his mom, who always seemed too tired or too busy for him.

  Andy wandered over to Alden.

  “I’ve got all those potatoes left to peel—” he pointed to a stack of spuds about a foot tall in the neighboring sink “—but as soon as I’m done, I think my mom will let me play.”

  “I can help! You’ll get done faster.”

  “Are you sure? This is servant’s work, and you’re a guest.”

  “My mom always makes me peel potatoes for Thanksgiving.” Andy didn’t add that he hated the chore more than just about anything. This was different.

  Andy and Alden attacked the pile of spuds. They raced to see who could peel fastest. Peels flew into the sink, around the sink, on the floor, and in their hair and clothes.

  “Woohoo!” Andy yelped.

  The rest of the servants in the kitchen watched the spectacle unfold. One portly man kept raising his eyebrows and shaking his head. The short, bald man with curiously long arms, whom Andy had seen earlier testing the King’s breakfast, scowled. Alden’s mom kept looking up and smiling.

  When the pile had been decimated, they counted their spoils: 97 potatoes for Alden and 91 for Andy.

  “Oh, so close!” shouted Andy.

  “Not bad for a new recruit,” Marta laughed. “Clean up your mess and then Alden can go.”

  A few minutes later the boys headed out of the kitchen, their mouths full of cookies.

  “The festival starts in a few days. Do you want to come with me to the stables and watch me practice? I’m in the Tower Chase event with my pegasus, Optimistic.”

  I have no idea what he just said. “A pegasus? Really? That sounds like fun!” Andy covered.

  “Let me change into my riding clothes first.”

  They headed downstairs to the servants’ quarters. The floor around the stairs now had standing water, but in their shared excitement they paid no attention as their feet splashed.

  Alden led Andy down a lengthy corridor with doors jutting off either side. They stopped at a room at the end and entered. The space was smaller than any Andy had seen thus far. Two beds lined the stone walls on either side of a narrow window—one was neatly made, the other not so much. A small desk rammed against the near wall held a short stack of papers to one side and a candleholder in the middle. A fireplace with a roughly hewn wood mantel squatted opposite. To say the space was cozy would have been an understatement. Cramped was a better description.

  Alden headed for the wardrobe and pulled out what he called his equestrian uniform: a royal-blue jacket with tails and green riding breeches that were baggy at the top and tapered to the knee, making it look as if a hamster had burrowed in the top of each leg. Andy suppressed a snicker. He looks funny. Alden pulled on his tall black riding boots with a grunt.

  “They’re a little small. Mom says I need to stop growing; it’s costing her too much. Okay, I’m ready.”

  They headed back upstairs, past the kitchens, and out into dense, sunlit fog. Andy could not see five feet in front of him.

  “The fog’s really thick!”

  “This is normal.”

  “Normal? How can you see anything?”

  “Mermin told me it’s been this way ever since the curse.”

  Andy and Alden felt their way across a cobblestone terrace. Andy could barely make out a stone building they approached. It had two huge wooden doors, the kind you’d see on a barn. Carved in the middle of the right door was a round circle with the head and wings of a pegasus. The left door had fancy letters inscribed into it: “His Majesty’s Stables, Center for Advanced Preparation.”

  “Advanced preparation? Preparation for what?” Andy asked.

  “The Cavalry of Oomaldee is stationed here. They keep all of their pegasi in these stables and also use this facility to train.”

  They train pegasi?

  A statue of a knight in full armor greeted them in the immense foyer. The warrior held a lance level, charging into battle on his steed.

  “I think that’s Sir Lancelot. The King likes that guy a lot,” narrated Alden.

  They turned left and passed stall after stall filled with amazing creatures. Some stuck curious heads over the half doors as the pair passed. The animals’ fur came in a multitude of colors—orange, red, gray, green, purple, and more. Their heads looked just like horses, and they peered at the boys through large brown eyes with long lashes.

  “Do you want to pet one?”

  “Yeah!” gawked Andy, his eyes growing wide. He reached out his hand to touch one.

  “Don’t pet these pegasi. They’re trained for combat and they’ll bite.”

  Andy quickly withdrew his hand, checking it even though he knew it remained unharmed.

  After walking past at least a hundred stalls, Alden finally stopped, opened a door, and stepped in.

  “Hey girl.” Alden spoke softly and held his hand out, inviting the creature to sniff it.

  A second later she gave a low whinnying sound.

  “You have to let them accept you before you try to touch them. Here, put your hand in front of her nose.”

  Andy moved slowly to her head and stuck out a trembling hand. Two blasts of warm air hit his arm seconds later. “She’s got whiskers! They tickle.”

  The pegasus hesitated briefly and finally whinnied.

  “She likes you. Now you can pet her.”

  Andy stepped around and ran his hand down the animal’s neck. Her purple fur sparkled as he stroked it. “It’s so soft!”

  “They say it’s the softest fur of any animal. It keeps them light so they can fly.”

  Andy had not noticed the creature’s wings until now, but when Alden mentioned flying, the pegasus ruffled them to say she was ready to exercise. Her wings attached at the top of her back, just behind the withers. Andy’s eyes followed the lines of the feathers and saw they extended down even with her belly, ending just before her tail.

  Alden grabbed a halter hanging next to the door and, with the help of a step ladder, put it over her head, sticking the bit in her mouth as he did. She started to prance in the confined space, and Andy leapt up the stall wall to avoid being stepped on.

  “Sorry, she’s excited.”

  Alden tossed the saddle over her and adjusted it so the pommel was positioned jus
t in front of where her wings started. He fed the strap under her belly and cinched it tight.

  “Come on, Optimistic. Let’s go for a ride.”

  Alden led her by the reins and Andy followed. Optimistic dwarfed Alden. Her shoulders towered at least three feet above him.

  “I got her from the King’s stock when she was first born two years ago. They didn’t want her. They were going to kill her because she was a runt.”

  “She’s not a runt anymore!”

  “I’ve been taking care of her, and now we have our first chance to show everyone she’s just as good as the other pegasi, maybe better!” Alden’s voice rang with determination, as if he had something to prove. Optimistic gave a whinny and tossed her head, echoing the sentiment. Andy chose not to pursue questioning.

  The three walked silently out into a sawdust-covered oval ring where several other pegasi trained with their cavalry masters. The men were dressed in work coveralls of royal-blue. At seeing them, the leader nodded in recognition. “Good luck in the Tower Chase, Alden. The field this year is seasoned and will not be easy to beat.”

  “Thank you, Major. I’ll do my best for the King!”

  They reached the other side of the arena and headed out of the building, back into the sunlit fog.

  “We need to train out here so we don’t get in the way of cavalry exercises.”

  “But how will you see?”

  Alden whistled and immediately several servants appeared, each leading a cow. “I need to train for the Tower Chase. Can you clear the fog, please?”

  At this, the servants walked their cows to positions designated by the King’s blue coat of arms. Andy lost sight of the ones who headed toward the opposite side of the ring.

  Alden handed Andy what looked like nose plugs and showed him how to put them on. “Breathe through your mouth,” he instructed. He led Optimistic several steps forward to a mounting platform and hopped on. “Ready!” Alden announced, sounding nasally.

  Andy heard mooing just like last night, followed by farting sounds, and then the fog started to thin and lift. This is too wild!

  After a few minutes, Andy could clearly see a dozen or more poles, ovals, and arrows floating in the sky above. I wonder how they stay aloft?

  Alden and Optimistic took off, the mare nickering with delight. Alden directed her around floating poles and through ovals—he had to time this perfectly with her rhythmic flapping or they would not fit, at least not together. He raced her vertically up and up and upside down, finally completing a loop only a few feet above the ground. Two obstacles later, Alden landed, beaming.

  “Our best run yet! We’ve got a good chance, I know we do.”

  Andy watched the pair train for the next two hours, awed by the beauty and grace of the pegasus coupled with Alden’s command of the animal. They were one, inseparable, seemingly reading each other’s thoughts, dancing together.

  When Alden finally finished, boy and beast both dripped with sweat. He hopped off Optimistic and announced to the servants, “I’m done!” He pulled off his nose plugs, and Andy followed his lead.

  Whew! That stench is so bad!

  “I need to cool her down and brush her. You don’t need to stay.”

  Vigorously waving a hand in front of his face, Andy sputtered, “Hey, thanks for letting me watch you practice. You’re really good!”

  “Thanks.” Alden couldn’t suppress a laugh at Andy’s hysterics.

  “See you later,” Andy waved as he headed for clean air.

  I’m definitely going to need to ask Alden about that stench, but not right now. Why do they do that?

  He walked back across the sawdust-covered arena, past the men training. The Major waved and Andy reciprocated. He had just entered the stable area when he saw a servant who looked similar to the man he’d seen in the kitchen earlier. He was short but with more hair, and just like the other guy his arms extended nearly down to his ankles. His nose was beak-like and bumpy. He watched the cavalry train, but when his bulging, frog-like eyes caught sight of Andy, he frowned and darted into the nearest aisle between the stalls.

  That guy’s not very friendly.

  Andy navigated the cobblestone terrace and reached the back door of the castle. He didn’t think anything of the fact that it stood ajar, and shoved it open. Seconds later, a heavy wooden bucket that had been teetering on the top retched its skuzzy contents, drenching Andy as it plummeted.

  “Ow! Gross!”

  Boisterous laughter ricocheted through the corridor as Andy sputtered and crouched, pulling hands over his head.

  The brown furry menace that had assaulted him twice yesterday jumped on his head then bounced to the floor. Andy grabbed after it but narrowly missed. “Argh! Yeah, you better run!” He rubbed the growing bump on his head as he dashed after the villain, which continued its ear-piercing shrieks.

  Heads popped out of rooms as he rushed by, cheering him on.

  Around a sharp corner, up the grand staircase, and through the double doors of the dining hall he raced. The boggart nearly escaped when it plunged under the long communal dining table, but Andy hurdled the obstacle and continued pursuit up the circular stone stairs, taking them two at a time.

  The pest glanced over its shoulder and raised an eyebrow as Andy narrowed the gap, but a stitch in his side aided and abetted the nuisance as he neared the fifth floor. Andy held his side, forcing himself up two more flights. Cresting the landing, a furry behind and two short, scrawny legs struggled to propel the balance of the creature under a hulking metal door.

  “Hah! Gotcha!” Andy fell panting before the door and swiped at the palm-size appendages…just as they disappeared under the door. He yanked on the handle but found it locked. “Crap!” His fists pummeled the metal as victory shrieks started on the other side.

  Andy collapsed like a lawn chair to the floor and waited for his breathing to slow. Shrieks soon ended, but tinkling metallic sounds flowing under the door quickly replaced them. Andy turned furrowed brows to the carob-colored surface, then stood and examined a sign affixed to it: Admittance Only by Order of His Majesty. A gold plaque above the door declared this to be the royal treasury.

  Is this where I woke up yesterday? Andy rubbed the bump on his head. That thing’s making a mess of the place again. I better tell the goldweavers.

  Shouting from downstairs interrupted Andy’s musings. “The servants’ quarters are flooded! Three feet of water! Come quick! Everyone needs to bail!”