It was as if every shape and turn of the smoke suddenly hardened into solid purple clay when touched by the sun.
At last, a great rolling wall surrounded everything. Then came a deep and booming shudder, and the purple city stopped rising.
Julie gasped. “The city of Ut! It’s really real!”
Almost instantly, the noise of crowds yelling and pilkas whinnying drifted over the walls.
“It’s real, all right,” said Neal. “Real bad. I’m not liking it so much. Too … weird looking.”
“Quill doesn’t like it, either,” said Keeah, holding up the pad of paper as Quill wiggled wildly, then stopped. “He just wrote, black nets. Quill? Quill! He fell asleep again.”
“Perhaps he does write about what is to come,” said Galen, breathing heavily. He led the little troop quietly across the sand to the giant wall. “Ut is indeed a mystery, my friends. We may need Quill’s clues today, for trapped somewhere in this city is a friend.”
Stopping at the foot of the wall, Eric placed his hand on the purple clay. It was rough and hard and already soaking up the heat of the day.
“We need to be careful here,” he said, “and not give ourselves away. We should probably keep our magic quiet until we need it.”
“Good idea,” said Keeah. “And keep ourselves quiet, too. Come on, everyone.” Grasping a curved space in the wall, she lifted herself up and started to climb. Galen and Max went next, followed by Julie, Neal, and finally Eric.
Seeing all his friends clamber up the wall above him, Eric couldn’t help but smile. He thought of climbing up to Neal’s roof that morning.
And here he was again.
Sneaking into a city with a genie trapped inside. Ut was a mystery, all right. And if Sparr were involved, it would certainly be dangerous. And full of adventure. And exciting.
But that was why he loved Droon.
Ten minutes later, they reached the top of the wall together.
“Oh, my gosh!” whispered Julie.
Below them was a world of the strangest buildings they had ever seen. Shops and houses leaned this way and that over narrow alleys filled with amazing creatures.
There were little furry bundles in colored robes scurrying from one corner to the next. Tall green creatures with long arms and legs rode down cobblestone lanes on trotting black pilkas.
There were large dog-headed beasts here and there, too. They carried big black nets on the ends of long poles.
“Guards with black nets,” whispered Julie. “Just like Quill said.”
“Then let us enter silently,” said the wizard. “If I remember correctly, dogs have good ears!”
Without speaking, the small band hopped from the wall to a high, slanted roof. They slid down one roof after another until they finally dropped into an alley between two rows of short buildings.
Looking both ways, Keeah darted to the end and peered around the corner. After a moment, she called her friends over, one by one. Together, they crept to the next street, careful to stay in the shadows.
At an outdoor counter ahead of them, Eric noticed knobby-skinned creatures wrapping what looked like fruit in crinkly silver paper.
Next door to that was a crooked little shop that smelled like cheese. Nearby, dozens of sausages hung from the ceiling of a yellow awning. Hunks of bread were piled on low tables beneath.
“This is awesome,” said Julie.
“Breakfast!” shouted a voice. “One sneddle!”
Neal tugged Galen’s cloak. “Um … that guy said breakfast. I never got breakfast this morning.”
“Do not attract attention, Neal,” said Galen.
But before they could slip away, an orange chipmunklike creature poked its head out of the shop, spotted Neal, and blinked. “One sneddle for breakfast, but for you — free!”
Neal grinned at his friends. “What is Quill talking about, ‘city of dangers’? City of chow, maybe. Food is definitely the international language! I’ll just be a second. And I’ll come back with enough for everybody!”
“Neal —” said Keeah. “Neal, be careful!”
He gave a little wave and quietly entered the store.
Keeping an eye on Neal, the rest of the group walked on. Streets twisted and crisscrossed far into the distance.
“How are we going to find Hoja in all this?” asked Eric. “Ut is huge. I already feel lost.”
Taking out a small, curved telescope, Keeah gazed through the crowd. “I see a building two streets ahead that has thick bars on the windows.”
“Bars?” said Max. “Maybe Hoja really is being held prisoner.”
Galen smiled. “It will be good to see our friend again —”
He stopped. His eyes were fixed on the crowd moving past the corner ahead. “But wait. Look there! There!”
Max stared where Galen was pointing. “Is it Hoja? Do you see him?”
Without answering, the wizard bounded out of the shadows.
“Galen?” said Keeah. “Wait —”
Galen whisked through the crowded street, turned, paused, then flew around the corner.
“Was it something we said?” asked Julie.
“But we didn’t say anything!” said Max.
“Maybe he saw Hoja,” said Keeah. “Let’s go.”
Even as they rushed after him, Eric saw Galen point into the crowd ahead. Someone in a white robe flashed by, turned, then disappeared in the crush of people.
“Galen’s after someone,” Eric whispered. “Hurry up!”
Together, they charged ahead, not daring to call Galen’s name, but rushing after him as quickly as he followed someone else.
“He went in here,” said Keeah, running into a stable of pilkas.
The steaming breath of the animals and the smell of straw mixed with an almost sweet smell. But the wizard was nowhere to be seen.
Julie called out, “Galen! Where are you —”
“We’d better get back to Neal,” said Eric.
Keeah stopped short.
“What is it?” asked Max.
“The square,” she said. “Look!”
The far end of the stable opened onto a large square filled with people. In the exact center of the square was a huge design made of bright blue tiles. The design was in the shape of a blue flower.
“Blue flower,” whispered Eric. “It’s just what Quill wrote!”
“Guards,” said Julie.
“He didn’t write anything about guards,” said Max.
“No, I mean — guards!” cried Julie.
Suddenly — “woof-woof!” — a troop of armor-wearing dog-headed guards bounded down the street, barking loudly. They marched heavily on thick, furred feet. Above their heads, they twirled oversize black nets.
“Quickly, into the shadows!” hissed Max. “Let the guards pass —”
But the guards didn’t pass. They came to a sharp halt.
A big golden carriage pulled by two black pilkas rumbled up behind them and slowed.
As the kids watched — swoosh! — curtains on the carriage parted and a shiny metal hand came out. It was a glove made of silvery iron.
“HALT!” shrieked a voice from inside the carriage.
The carriage’s wheels scraped the cobblestones as it ground to a stop.
Everyone froze in the streets, waiting.
The curtains opened further and a boy’s head came thrusting out into the sunlight.
Eric staggered on his feet.
The boy’s hair was piled very high on his head. He wore narrow green glasses. He had little pink roses painted on his cheeks. His mouth was screwed up into a snarling frown.
But there was no mistaking his face.
Eric knew that face.
It was the face of his oldest friend.
“N-N-Neal? Is that you? We left you getting food. How did you —”
The boy glared at Eric. He wrinkled his nose to match his snarling mouth. “Neal? NEAL? I am not Neal! I am Duke Snorfo, Ruler of Ut! And you — are under a
rrest!”
Eric stared at the boy. “You’re not Neal?”
Keeah frowned. “He’s not Neal?”
“He sure looks like Neal,” said Julie.
The boy’s eyes turned icy. “I’m not — NEAL!” he shrieked, his face turning as purple as the walls. “GUARDS! Take them you-know-where!”
A dog-headed creature bowed low. “Which dungeon, Duke Snorfo? The dark one or the smelly one?”
The boy grinned cruelly. “YOU decide!” Then he turned to Julie and grunted. “And you — Dumpella — get in the carriage. It’s a BIG DAY!”
Julie stepped back and blinked. “Me? Dumpella?”
“I see you’ve been shopping for silly clothes again, sister!” he snarled. “You’ll soon be back in your royal robes. Now, GET IN!”
Clink-clank! The boy snapped the fingers of his iron glove and the guards pushed Julie right into the duke’s carriage.
“See you later, prisoners!” said the boy. Then he chuckled. “NOT!”
Clop-clop-clop! Eric got a last glimpse of Julie’s face as the black pilkas reared and the duke’s carriage sped away across the tiled plaza.
Before they knew it, the troop of dog-headed guards dropped their big black nets over the three friends, hustled them to the building with bars on the windows, dragged them down ten flights of stairs, and heaved them through a metal door at least a foot thick.
Thump — thump — thump!
Max moaned as he rolled over the floor. “Is this the dark dungeon or the smelly one?”
The chief guard barked, “A little of both!”
“Don’t just visit,” said another. “Stay a while!”
The dog-headed troop woofed and huffed, then trotted out of the small stone room and slammed the door behind them — clang-g-g-g!
The sounds of the guards’ feet echoed up the stairs. A moment later, they were gone.
Max gulped. “So … that wasn’t Neal?”
Keeah looked around at the stained walls. “No. I think we found Neal’s evil twin. I mean, Neal may be nutty, but he’s not crazy.”
“Except maybe about food,” said Eric, slumping to the floor. “And that’s what probably saved him. I can’t believe it. In, like, a minute, we lose Julie, Neal, and Galen, and then we get plunked into a dungeon….”
Max rubbed his head. “A dungeon that will soon be sucked back into a bottle for a hundred years!”
“Thanks for reminding me,” said Eric with a sigh. “We’re here to rescue Hoja. But who will rescue us?”
“No one,” said Keeah, staring at some marks on the wall. “At least not here. These are messages from people who spent time in this cell.”
Eric and Max jumped up and began to read.
“‘A hundred years! No escape!’” read Max. “This is not, as Neal would say, a good thing.”
“But look at this one,” said Keeah. “‘Was here ten minutes, then found a way out. If you’re trapped — dig down — through the floor! Bye!’”
Eric laughed. “Yes! Someone escaped! Whoever it was, dug down. There must be a tunnel under the floor!”
They searched the floor of the dungeon. In one of the corners they found a large stone raised a little higher than the rest of the stones. It looked as if it had been moved.
“This is it!” said Eric. “Whoever wrote that note dug down under this stone. It’s heavy. Stand back, everybody!”
“Eric, I don’t know —” Keeah started.
Mumbling some words, he aimed his fingers at the stone. A bright silver beam shot out the ends of his fingers. Zzanng! Blam! Boom!
The spray of sparks bounced off the stone and shot back up, zigzagging from one wall to the other and sending the kids flying for cover.
“Eric!” cried Keeah, diving over Max.
Ping! Blam! Boom! Sparks blasted the stones with deep, fiery marks wherever they hit.
Finally, the light faded, and the friends were left cowering in the dim stone room once more.
“Uh, sorry about that,” said Eric. “I have a better idea. Maybe we should just, you know, dig?”
Keeah gave him a look, then smiled. “Dig.”
Scrabbling and scratching together, the three friends dug around the stone and managed to lift it.
Underneath, dug into the earth, was a hole.
“A tunnel,” said Max. “And a way out!”
They dropped into the hole and scraped along a narrow tunnel. First they went downward, then sharply upward. Finally, they saw an outline of light around a rock blocking the tunnel.
Pushing the rock forward, they followed it into a room larger and lighter than the first.
“We made it!” cried Eric.
Looking around, he saw a barred window high near the ceiling. In one corner was a heap of dirt. In another was a pile of rags. Mostly there was stone.
Except for the walls.
They were made of metal.
“We made it,” said Keeah, running her hands over the slippery metal. “But I don’t know about these walls. You can’t climb them. Even if we could, it’s a long way up. A long way …”
“And the window’s got bars,” added Eric.
Max frowned. “But where’s the door? I wanted a door. I see no door —” His tiny shoulders drooped, and he cried out, “This isn’t the way out! This isn’t even the way in. This isn’t the way anywhere!”
“Humf!” growled a voice. “I wish someone had told me that before I dug through sixty feet of rock!”
Eric jumped. The pile of rags in the corner rolled, stretched wide, then stood upright.
Before them stood a man. A very short man. He wore tattered pants that billowed like sails and a stained yellow robe. He had a scruffy beard and a shiny, bald head. His eyes blinked once, twice, three times at the light.
“Welcome. I am Hoja, Seventh Genie of the … Wait a second — I know you!”
The genie smiled broadly as Keeah, Eric, and Max started jumping up and down.
“Hoja!” cried Keeah. “Oh, my gosh! Yes, it’s us. I can’t believe we found you!”
“It was you who wrote that message!” chirped Max. “We came to Ut to rescue you!”
“Yes, I wrote the note!” said Hoja. “Yes, you found me. Now all we need is for someone to find you. Because, my friends, we’re trapped!”
Everyone stopped jumping.
Eric grumbled. “Right. We’re trapped. But you’re a genie, right? You’re the Seventh Genie of the Dove. Can’t we just fly out of here?”
Hoja smiled sadly. “We should just fly out of here. But I would have already done that if I could. Do you notice anything missing? Besides a door, that is?”
Keeah gasped. “Your hat!”
Hoja nodded. “When I was captured, Duke Snorfo took my very large and excellent turban away from me. I used to go anywhere. I could even walk through walls. Now watch this —”
Hoja marched toward the wall. Wham!
He smashed right into it and rubbed his nose. “I was sent here to find a genie named Anusa who got stuck in Ut a hundred years before me. Then, look what happened. I myself get stuck … oh!”
The floor swayed suddenly and began to rumble. It lasted for a few seconds, then stopped.
“What was that?” asked Eric.
Hoja shrugged. “Just one of Ut’s fun little problems. The rumbling keeps getting louder, but it can’t shake down these walls!”
“Maybe Quill can tell us the way out,” said Keeah. She pulled the pen and paper from her belt. The feather pen shook once, then scribbled.
Max read from the paper and snorted. “‘The flower that booms’? Our magical friend can’t spell. It should be ‘the flower that blooms.’ Besides, we already found the blue flower in the square. Quill?”
But the pen had already begun snoring.
“Great time for a nap,” said Eric. “We’re locked up. Half our people are lost who knows where. The earth is quaking. There’s a crazy duke in charge. And Ut is just waiting to go slurping back into a
bottle for a hundred years!”
“It doesn’t look good,” said Hoja. “But a wise man once said, ‘If you’re trapped — dig down!’”
“Sorry, Hoja, you were the one who said that,” said Keeah. “And we already tried it.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, that didn’t work, did it? Still, genies are usually quite clever. We ought to be, we live forever.”
“Really?” asked Max. “You live forever?”
Hoja nodded. “I’m the Seventh Genie of the Dove, but the first six are still around somewhere — or sometime. When we get old, we get very old. Then we are called on a journey. Then we get reborn! It’s quite nice, actually. Doesn’t do a bit of good now, though!”
As the ground shook again, Eric dropped to the floor with a thud. When he did, he saw deep marks scratched into the stones. “What’s all this?”
The genie sighed. “A map of Droon. I doodled it from memory. There’s not that much to do in here.”
Eric stared at the shapes of the valleys, mountains, and seas. He ran his fingers from the wide Saladian Plains, where they were now, all the way across the world to the Serpent Sea, where he had gotten his powers.
“Powers,” he mumbled. “I wish I could —”
Plumf! Something fell on the stones next to his foot. He looked at it.
It was a pickle.
Eric swallowed. “Um … who dropped a pickle? I mean, who even has a pickle?”
“Excuse me,” said a distant voice. “If some food fell down there, can you brush it off and toss it back up?”
Everyone looked up. There was a face in the tiny window above them.
Hoja hissed. “It’s Duke Snorfo. Hide —”
“Hide?” snapped Max. “We’re already in a dungeon!”
It was that same face as before.
A face they knew.
But when Eric stared at it, he saw the mouth move. It was chomping up and down.
On a sandwich.
Eric began to smile. “That’s not Duke Snorfo. It’s Neal! The real Neal! Hey! It’s us! Neal! Help!”
Their friend jumped as he grinned down at them. “No wonder you guys weren’t around when I looked for you. Hey, you found Hoja!” He pulled on the window bars. “These are thick, but somebody gave me a pet pilka and a rope. We’ll have you out of there in no time. Just bring my pickle!”