Bad News

  For one harrowing moment, Bluebeard’s good eye found Clay, and it looked as though the dragon might take out its rage on this easy human target, but Ariella immediately stepped in front of Bluebeard and growled a warning.

  Screeching furiously, Bluebeard flew off into the night—like a bitter one-eyed pirate setting out to sea.

  We must go.

  Ariella lay low on the ground, so the dragon’s human passengers could climb on more easily. Still, Cass winced with pain as Clay and Satya helped her onto Ariella’s back. How was it that something could be so slippery and so spiky at once?

  “You need to get her home right away,” said Satya, after Cass was securely in place and they’d jumped down to the ground.

  Clay looked back up at Cass, struggling valiantly to sit upright. Beneath the smears of blood, her arm was turning a strange yellowish color. Satya was right. Cass needed medical attention as soon as possible.

  “What about you? What about the baby dragons? What about—” Clay gestured helplessly. “I can’t just leave.”

  “You have to.”

  Before she could respond, Clay was startled by a crackling in his ear: “Clay, are you there?”

  “Uh—” It was Leira. The hat was working again.

  “Where’ve you been?! Never mind. Guess what—Ariella came back! And we all played charades and drew a map to show where you were, and now—”

  “I know. Ariella’s here. Cass, too. But she’s hurt. Make sure Nurse Cora is ready. Sorry, gotta go—”

  “Wait—”

  Clay pulled off his hat and looked at Satya. “Come with us,” he said urgently.

  “I can’t.”

  “Look around. You can’t stay here.”

  As he spoke, Hero returned and landed on Satya’s shoulder.

  “See, I’ll be fine. I’ve got Hero. And my dad. Now go. Before Ms. Mauvais sees you.”

  “I’m coming back,” said Clay, reluctant to leave her side.

  “No, you aren’t.”

  “Will you kiss me when I do?” he blurted, then reddened.

  Satya laughed, reddening as well. “Sure.”

  Clay grinned. “Then I definitely am coming back.”

  Feeling much better than he had in a long time, Clay picked up his sword and jumped easily onto the dragon’s back. Well, almost. He wound up with his feet dangling down the dragon’s side. Trying to keep a straight face, Satya gave him a push, and he swung his leg up and over, taking a seat in front of Cass.

  He didn’t need to tell Cass to hold on tight. The minute Ariella unfurled those massive wings, flapping up into the sky, Cass’s good hand was digging into Clay’s shoulder.

  They lifted up, and instantly the night became quieter and cooler, the stars brighter. Tentatively, Clay stroked Ariella’s back. He was unsure whether the dragon would appreciate, or even notice, his small human hand, but he felt the need to make contact.

  When Clay had last seen Ariella, the dragon had recently molted, and its skin was smooth and sleek. In the year since, the scales had become rougher, careworn. Clay could see various lines and scars crisscrossing the dragon’s back. Where did the lines come from? What had Ariella been doing? He wanted to know, but it was not the right time to ask. He was certain that Ms. Mauvais would not let them go so easily. At any second he expected to see Gyorg piloting a helicopter behind them, the chopper’s missiles firing—straight at Ariella’s rear end.

  He was right: They were being pursued. But not by a helicopter.

  Cass lifted her head. “Oh no—behind us!” she rasped.

  Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech!

  A bright green dragon was streaking through the sky, directly toward them. It was Snowflake, apparently recovered from being hit on the head, and now chasing after them—under Bluebeard’s orders, no doubt.

  That dragon—another Lost One? Ariella asked.

  “Lost?” repeated Clay nervously.

  A dragon who does not follow the ways of a dragon.

  “Yes, another Lost One. Sorry.” He hoped Ariella wouldn’t choose this moment to try to school Snowflake in the finer points of proper dragon etiquette.

  Very well.

  The determined dragon leaned forward, flapping its wings with tremendous force, then holding them tight against its sides, picking up speed. Still, Ariella had been wounded in the fight with Bluebeard, and Snowflake covered the distance between them with shocking velocity.

  “Hurry!” Clay urged.

  Ariella responded with something that Clay couldn’t totally understand, but he guessed it was probably some dragon form of swearing.*

  Breathing heavily, Ariella flew a little faster, but Snowflake kept gaining. By then Snowflake was almost upon them. Smelling victory, the green dragon stretched out its neck and opened its jaws, revealing several rows of sharp teeth. Clay was afraid Snowflake was about to bite down on Ariella’s tail, when he was startled by a sudden crackle, followed by a loud buzzing.

  “What’s happening?” asked Cass, roused by the noise.

  Just as they came level with the crater’s rim, Snowflake gave a strangled roar and stopped abruptly, swatting at the air. Confused, the dragon fell backward for a second before regaining equilibrium and flying back toward them at double speed—only to stop again, screaming with fury.

  “It’s Snowflake’s collar!” Clay yelled. “I think the backup power finally kicked in! Vicente’s calling the dragons back.”

  Sure enough, as Ariella soared farther and farther from the Keep, Snowflake spiraled downward until once again trapped inside the dome, like a flying goldfish in a giant bowl.

  It looked, at last, like they were safe.

  Clay turned around to share the moment with Cass, but her eyes were closed and her head drooping. Alarmed, he put his hand on her good wrist. She still had a pulse; she’d only fallen asleep.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-TWO

  THE RETURN TO EARTH RANCH

  The flight from the Keep to Earth Ranch was much shorter on Ariella’s back than in Owen’s seaplane—much, much shorter. The dragon didn’t necessarily fly faster than the plane—not in terms of actual, measurable speed, anyway. Instead, there seemed to be a kind of supernatural teleportation at work, so subtle that Clay didn’t even notice when it was happening. He would blink, and suddenly he’d have traveled a hundred miles farther than he’d thought.

  So it was unexpected, but expectedly unexpected, when Price Island suddenly appeared, a puffy gray mass on the horizon.

  Seconds later they burst through the clouds of vog, and Clay could see the distinctive profile of Nose Peak. Two figures were straddling the topmost rock, staring at the sky, just as Clay had done on so many mornings. They waved wildly. Clay didn’t have to see their faces to recognize Leira and Brett. Leira raised her conch-shell communication device to her lips and blew it three times like a trumpet. It blared painfully in Clay’s ear but also echoed around the island, announcing their arrival.

  “Looks like they’re expecting us!” he said, his ears ringing.

  He looked back at Cass, whose eyes were partway open. She smiled briefly before passing out again.

  As soon as they landed, Cass was rushed to the infirmary, where her arm was re-bandaged and she was given one of Nurse Cora’s mysterious transfusions.

  Cass would live, the nurse said. Her arm—that was an open question. It had become infected, and there was a chance they would have to amputate. Cass took the news stoically, as if she’d always expected to lose a limb one day or another.

  Nurse Cora insisted she rest; Cass insisted she go to the all-camp meeting.

  It was just after dawn. Awakened by the blowing of the conch shell, if not by the thunderous arrival of a thirty-foot-long dragon, campers had stumbled out of their cabins and over to the geodesic dome, rubbing sleep from their eyes. And now Clay was being overwhelmed with people patting him on the back, including a very relieved Owen, and gawking at Ariella, who was sitting claws forward, like a sphinx, ne
xt to the dome.

  Jonah shook his head. “I’ll never go to the toilet again without thinking of that dragon.”

  Clay looked at him strangely. “What?”

  Before Jonah could explain, Kwan grabbed Clay’s arm. “Wait, are you carrying a sword?”

  Pablo shook his head in exaggerated amazement. “You give a guy an exploding gumball, and the next thing you know he’s a full-on soldier.”

  “That’s full-on knight to you,” said Clay, equal parts proud and abashed. “This isn’t just any sword; it’s DragonSlayer.”

  Kwan laughed. “Okay, so you’re doing some kind of fantasy cosplay now?”

  The camp’s geodesic dome was about thirty-five feet in diameter—an open grid of steel like you might see being used as a climbing structure at a grade school, only bigger. A few holdouts perched themselves on top of the dome, but most of the campers and staff gathered underneath, around a pile of logs—an unlit campfire. Just outside the circle of campers, Cass sat on a rock, conferring with Owen and Buzz and Mr. B.

  “Hey—where’s Flint?” said Pablo, looking around. “This is when he usually lights the fire with a snap, the show-off.”

  Clay tensed, hearing Flint’s name. “We don’t need that guy.” Except to give me back the Occulta Draco, he thought. He turned to Ariella. “Hey, could you…?”

  The dragon looked wearily at Clay as if to say, Are you really making me do this? Then the dragon leaned over the dome and sent a burst of fire right onto the waiting logs. The campfire crackled, and the other campers broke into applause.

  “Thanks,” said Clay, suddenly wishing Flint had been there after all, to witness the moment.

  Mr. B clapped to get everyone’s attention, then rested a hand on Cass’s shoulder. “Some of you know Cassandra here, a longtime warrior for our side, who now returns to us wounded but unbroken.”

  There were a few cheers, but Cass waved them away with her good arm.

  “She has been filling me in on the latest doings of the Midnight Sun,” continued Mr. B. “It is worse than we imagined. Under the guise of running a dragon preserve, they’ve been training dragons to fly Midnight Sun members to the Other Side.…”

  Cass nodded and then spoke with effort. “Or trying to. They seem to have had some problems making the trip, and Clay’s and my exit probably set them back a little, but I know the Midnight Sun: They don’t give up. They’re going to keep at it until they get what they want.”

  Clay raised his hand.

  “We’re not in class anymore, Clay,” said Mr. B. “Speak.”

  Clay blushed. Usually it was Mr. B who wouldn’t let Clay forget that he’d once been Clay’s language arts teacher. “Okay, well, I just thought you should know that the dragons at the Keep are Lost Ones—or at least that’s what Ariella calls them. They don’t know what it means to be dragons. It makes them more dangerous.”

  “How so?”

  “For one thing, they don’t know how to fly to the Other Side. Ariella says it takes years for a young dragon to learn how to do it right, but all these dragons are doing is flying superfast. That’s why there’s a rip in the sky above the crater. Ariella says if they keep at it, the rip is going to keep getting bigger and bigger until, well, I didn’t really understand the rest.…”

  Buzz, sitting on the other side of Mr. B, looked grave. “I think what the dragon’s saying is that the separation between our world and the Other Side will be destroyed. I can’t imagine what that would mean. The laws of physics, everything we think know about the natural world, would be in question.”

  “That’s why we have to stop them,” agreed Mr. B.

  “How?” Leira asked. “The Midnight Sun already has three big dragons, and a half dozen others that are catching up.”

  Clay nodded. “It would take an army of dragons to stop them. Hey—cut that out!” Something big and sharp was poking him in the back.

  He looked over his shoulder and saw Ariella’s tail nudging him. The dragon let out a low rumble.

  “There’re more dragons?” Clay said, incredulous. “Why didn’t you say so?! Oh… so that’s what you were doing all year—looking for them?”

  Then you weren’t intentionally avoiding me, he almost added.

  As Clay listened to the dragon’s response, the others glanced between Clay and Ariella, confused.

  “Does Ariella think these other dragons can help us?” asked Mr. B.

  “Maybe,” said Clay. “There’s only one problem. The dragons are all on the Other Side. And they intend to stay there—away from us. From humans.”

  After what everyone had seen and heard about the Midnight Sun, hearing that dragons held grudges against humans wasn’t exactly a surprise.

  “Can they be convinced to come back?” Cass asked.

  “What about it, Ariella?” Clay asked. “Even if they don’t care about people, what about the baby dragons? Maybe they could be saved.”

  The dragon shook its massive head.

  “What do you mean, I need to explain it to them?!” Clay demanded.

  Gulping, Clay turned to the others. “Ariella says the only way that the other dragons might come back is if I go to the Other Side to ask.”

  “What!” Leira squeaked. “Why?”

  “To make the case for why they should even care about our world. Ariella can’t do it, because they would automatically consider any dragon who spoke for a human to be a traitor.”

  Mr. B frowned. “Are you saying Ariella wants to take you to the Other Side?”

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Cass said. “You saw what happened to Schrödinger.” She turned to Mr. B. “The Midnight Sun sent this guy to the Other Side as a test, like they were sending a monkey into space to see whether he’d make it back alive. And believe me, he wasn’t all there when he got back.”

  Clay swallowed, remembering Schrödinger jumping up and down like a crazed clown.

  Flint had arrived in the middle of the conversation and was leaning casually against the dome. “Are you seriously going to let this kid go to the Other Side?” He nodded scornfully toward Clay. “Look at him. He barely got out of the Keep alive. And then only because his precious dragon saved his butt at the last minute. And now you’re gonna send him on probably the most dangerous journey any of us have ever been on? Isn’t this a job for a counselor?” Flint grinned. Evidently, he meant himself.

  Clay found himself standing up, his fists balled at his sides.

  Mr. B shook his head. “Clay, whatever you’re about to do, don’t. Flint, that wasn’t very constructive.”

  “I’ll be back,” said Clay through clenched teeth. He grabbed DragonSlayer, which was leaning against a rock, and walked out from under the geodesic dome. Only to be confronted by Ariella’s golden eyes staring at him.

  “What?” he muttered angrily. “Am I not following the rules of the Dragon Way?”

  Back in his cabin, Clay sat on his bed and fumed. Next to him was the cheesy neon faux-graffiti skateboard helmet that Max-Ernest had sent only two days earlier. It seemed like a long time had passed since then.

  Clay picked up the helmet and was about to throw it against the wall, when the cabin door creaked open. Leira and Brett came over and sat on the bunk opposite him.

  “Don’t listen to Flint,” said Leira.

  Brett nodded. “He’s not the biggest jerk there is, but he’s up there—and I’m an expert.”

  “Yeah, he’s a jerk,” said Clay. “But he’s right. I was crazy to stay there without Owen.”

  He hit his skateboard helmet in frustration.

  “What are you talking about?” said Leira. “You got Cass out. Mission accomplished.”

  “Only because Ariella miraculously appeared. Or not miraculously. More like ’cause of you guys.”

  “Well, don’t sound so mad about it,” said Leira.

  “Sorry.” Clay smiled—briefly. “I guess I should say thanks.”

  Brett shook his head. “So you’re just
going to sit here banging on your helmet while you let Flint go to the Other Side?”

  “Why not? I know he denies it, but he’s got the Occulta Draco—I’m sure of it,” said Clay, repeatedly hitting the helmet. “He knows as much as I do. And he practically breathes fire himself.”

  “Dude, will you stop it with the helmet already?” said Leira.

  Clay stopped, an idea hitting him. “Wait a second.… Wasn’t there something in the Occulta Draco about a helmet?”

  He shut his eyes and thought back to what he’d read in those pages just days earlier.

  Ten minutes later, Clay was standing with Ariella outside the dome, trying to persuade his fellow campers not to get too close to the dragon, while simultaneously assuring them that they needn’t be afraid.

  “Pardon me… excuse me…”

  The crowd parted and Leira emerged, carrying Clay’s garbage-lid sled over her head and looking very irritable.

  “Okay. Now do you want to explain why the heck you needed your old volcano sled to go to the Other Side?”

  “Not sled—shield!” said Clay, with considerably more liveliness than he’d shown only moments before.

  “Right. Of course. Silly me.”

  Ignoring her, Clay took the board and grabbed its strap, looping it over his head so it rested against his back. He put on the skateboard helmet and raised DragonSlayer into the air, a little bit embarrassed, but determined nonetheless.

  “I’m ready!”

  Kwan shook his head. “Dude. You are so happy I don’t have a camera right now.”

  “No, seriously,” said Clay. “Listen to this.…” He recited the words from memory:

  “Let not a dragon leap when you’re astride,

  Lest you lose your mind on the Other Side.

  Yet if you must this dizzy journey make,

  Three things will keep you woozy but awake:

  First, your enemy’s sword will point the way.

  Next, the shield you made will keep ghosts at bay.

  Last, if you’d not return your brain half-dead,

  Please, a helmet from home put on your head.”