Dragon Keepers #3: The Dragon in the Library (11 page)

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"So how do we get back to Goldmine City?" Jesse asked.

"Simple!" said the elf. "You just have to fly up there"--he pointed skyward--"and drop the sphere into the hole. It's a bit tricky, but nothing you can't manage. The sphere is your pass to and from the Scriptorium. Drop the sphere into the hole in the center of the dome and...Bob's your uncle!"

Daisy grinned. Jesse's dad's name was Robert, and she always loved it when people used that expression...because Bob really
was
her uncle. Then her grin faded. "How are we supposed to fly up to the top of the dome? I hope we don't have to climb up there with one of your flimsy little ropes, because I'm telling you right now, I flunked ropes in gym."

"My word, no," said Mr. Wink. "The Scriptorium ropes would never lend themselves to such rigorous gymnastics."

"Then how do we get up there?" Jesse asked. "Fly?"

"Hmmm," said the elf, at a loss for suggestions.

"We don't exactly have wings," Daisy said.

"Oh, yes we do!" said Emmy.

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Chapter 7 CHAPTER SEVEN THE FLEDGLING

Jesse and Daisy whipped around to find their dragon beaming at them. "Guess what?" she said.

"What?" the cousins said.

"This is what!"
She raised her arms, and with a soft
pop-pop
, a pair of gossamer wings unfurled on
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either side of her body. They weren't a bird's sort of wings, made up of feathers. They were most emphatically a dragon's sort: made up of a vast, delicate web of struts and frets forming patterns that looked more like the work of some ingenious imagination--an elaborate Japanese parasol, perhaps, or the sails of some magical airship--than something born of nature. Jesse couldn't take his eyes off them.

Willum Wink looked mortified. "How old did you say your dragon was?"

"We didn't," said Jesse. "But she's eight weeks, three days, and"--he looked at his wristwatch and counted silently--"fourteen hours." He grinned happily.

Mr. Wink sagged against one of the display cases and clapped a hand over his chest. "Forgive me. I am quite taken aback. I've heard of this happening, but I have never seen it with my own eyes. My blessed elfin
word!
A premature fledgling!" he shrieked.

"What's a premature fledgling?" Daisy asked.

After the elf had managed to compose himself, he said, "A premature fledgling gets its wings many years before the developmentally predictable time. Normally, dragons are at least fifty years of age before they even begin to cut their wings. How this

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happened..." He paused and then raised a finger as one theory occurred to him. "Just
possibly
, it might have had
something
to do with the ingestion of the
dragon dust."

"Wow," said Jesse. "I might have eaten a flake or two myself. Does that mean I'm going to sprout wings, too?"

Willum Wink folded his arms across his chest and gave Jesse the Squint.

"Throw them a little Dragon Keeper humor now and then, I always say, don't I? I do!" Jesse said, crossing his eyes.

"Pretty good." Daisy laughed, then said, "Okay, guys, let's go get that sphere."

Emmy and Wink led the way back through the workroom toward the stacks, carrying on an animated conversation just out of the cousins' earshot. Daisy and Jesse walked behind them with their eyes on Emmy's wings. Even partially furled, they were an impressive sight.

Daisy squeezed Jesse's shoulder. "We're going to fly on Emerald's back!" she whispered. "Isn't this excellent?"

Jesse felt nowhere near as gung-ho as his cousin. "Do you think we'll be all right? It's not like she's had flying lessons or anything," he whispered back.

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"She'll be fine!" Daisy assured him, giving his shoulder a sporty little shove. "It's dragon magic, Jess, relax."

Jesse nodded, but he felt uneasy. Heights scared him. His parents always kept a basket in the Jeep for when they drove up steep mountain passes. Jesse put the basket over his head so he wouldn't have to look down. He wondered if Willum Wink had any baskets handy in the Scriptorium.

They came upon the ruby sphere, exactly where they had left it, glowing on its big golden golf tee. Jesse reached up and took it. The ruby felt much smoother in his hand than the rusty old sphere had. He stared into its crystalline depths for a moment before slipping it into the side zipper pouch of their backpack.

Daisy took the bag from him. "Let me do this," she said.

Jesse cleared his throat uneasily. "So how is this going to work? I mean, what are we supposed to hold on to? Do we get safety belts or harnesses or anything like that?" he asked, only half joking.

"Take out my dog leash, please," Emmy directed Jesse.

Jesse rummaged around in the backpack and found the leash. "Got it," he said, pulling it out.

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"Hitch it to my collar," Emmy said, bowing low to make it easier for Jesse.

"Now unbuckle my collar and run the loop end of the leash through the collar," Emmy said.

"I get it!" Jesse said with a surge of relief. "It's like a rein. I hope it holds," he added nervously.

"Jesse Tiger," said Emmy with a fond shake of her head, "don't be afraid. I'm giving you a rein, but only because it will make you feel safe. You really won't need it. No matter what happens, you two will stick to my back like goo."

Jesse laughed in spite of himself. Emmy was more grown-up now, but she still chose the wrong word now and then. He was glad she did. It reminded him of the early days, when she was a baby.
"Like glue
, you mean...because of dragon magic?"

Emmy nodded. "My scales will hold you. That is the way of it. Don't you see? You have kept me safe since the day I hatched, and now it is
my
turn to keep
you
safe...on my back while I fly through the air!"

Jesse nodded and smiled. "Thanks, Emmy," he said.

"You're welcome, Jesse. Let's go find my mother!"

"Hold it, Em. Before we do that we have to find

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the professor and spring him from Sadie Huffington's prison," Daisy said.

Emmy nodded eagerly. "First spring Professor Andersson and second track down Leandra of Tourmaline. We have busy times ahead, don't we, Dragon Keepers!"

Jesse and Daisy smiled at her. They were both so happy to have the old good-humored Emmy back with them again. Jesse was pretty sure that the grumpiness and the premature fledging were connected. Perhaps getting wings really
was
like cutting teeth.

Emmy flattened herself so Jesse and Daisy could climb up onto her back from her tail without crushing her wings. In spite of the wings' vast expanse, there was something fragile about them. There was just enough room between her wings for them to sit and hold the looped leash.

"Just a minute!" said Daisy. She quickly took the pack off her back and swung it around to the front.

"Good thinking," Jesse told her. "I guess we're all set, then."

"I know we are!" said Daisy with a huge grin on her face. "Good-bye, Mr. Wink. Thanks for everything. It was great meeting you."

"Yeah, I hope we see you again sometime," Jesse said. "Wish us luck."

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"Good luck, and I assure you, the pleasure was all mine. It's not every day one witnesses a premature fledging. That's one for the books! (When they get wind of this, they'll be
vermillion
with envy, won't they? Raging royal purple, they'll be!) Well, this isn't getting it done, is it?" He pulled a long telescopelike instrument from his tool belt and peered through it into the aisle ahead. Then he tucked it away. "Are you ready, Emerald of Leandra, for your maiden flight?"

Emmy nodded. "All ready, Wee Willie Winkie. See you in the stacks!" Emmy said and rose up onto her hind legs.

Jesse and Daisy leaned back, gripped the leash, and braced themselves. On either side of them, Emmy's wings extended outward, almost touching the stacks on either side. Emmy began to run, taking long, low, springy steps forward, faster and faster, until she sprang up and--just like that!--they were airborne! Jesse felt his stomach flip.
Dragon magic
, he kept telling himself. He even risked removing one hand from the leash to wave at Willum Wink, who waved back at them from far below.

"Holy moly!" said Daisy. She dropped the leash and lifted both hands over her head like a rider on a roller coaster. "Emmy's right, Jess. We're stuck

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here. We don't even need to hold on to the leash."

Jesse believed her, but he didn't feel it in his bones, so he kept one hand on the leash.

Two or three pumps of Emmy's wings sent them surging upward toward the layer of yellow fog. Below them, the Scriptorium lay like a small city. The aisles stretched out beneath them like roads, and the stacks, swarming with shelf elves, were like skyscrapers. Then, suddenly, it all disappeared as they pierced the bank of yellow fog and just as quickly broke through it into the clear air above.

Emmy's ascent abruptly became vertical. Up and up she rocketed, the wind whistling past Jesse's head. His ears popped. And then Emmy stopped.

"Why is she stopping?" Jesse whispered to Daisy in a panic. Daisy shook her head and grinned, as if she couldn't wait to find out what was going to happen next.

Emmy shifted, nose pointed downward, and plunged! Jesse nearly swallowed his tongue. Daisy squealed with delight. The next instant, Emmy whipped around and they were flying
upside down!
Jesse felt the blood rush to his head. He gripped the leash with both hands, squeezed his eyes shut, and felt the sting of Daisy's hair whipping him in the face.

"Whoa!" Daisy hollered.

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Up they went again, Daisy laughing so hard, she was crying and sputtering. It felt like torture to Jesse. He couldn't wait for it to be over. And then, just as Emmy halted on the next dreaded invisible precipice preparing for one of those spine-jarring nosedives, Jesse heard Emmy whisper to him, sounding exactly the way she had on that first day up on High Peak, from inside the thunder egg:
"Jesse Tiger!"
she said now. He opened his eyes.
"Let go!"
she whispered.
"Just let go."

And, just like that, he did. He relaxed his tense muscles and his clenched jaw and even released his death grip on the leash, and before he knew it, it was as if he were flying along with Emmy. Not that he had sprouted wings. It was just that something
inside him
had opened up, much like Emmy's beautiful purple-green wings. And along with the opening up came a ticklish sensation that swooped from the crown of his head to the pit of his stomach. It wasn't the kind of ticklish that made you want to yell "Stop!" It was the kind of ticklish that you gave in to and, once you did, wished would never, ever stop.

But it did stop, or at least it slowed down, as the golden ribs of the great dome rose into view above them and Emmy pumped her wings toward the small, dark hole at the top. Then her wings collapsed suddenly as something--some powerful

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force coming from the hole--began to pull them toward it, like smoke up a flue.

"Get ready to pitch the sphere!" Jesse shouted over the mounting noise pouring out of the hole like water from a powerful faucet.

Daisy nodded, unzipped the side pouch of the backpack, and took out the ruby sphere. After she offered it to Jesse for a good-luck kiss, and kissed it once herself, Daisy took aim and tossed it up toward the hole.

The sphere hovered in the air, about a foot below the opening.

Oh, boy!
Jesse thought.
What happens if it misses and falls to the ground? Will we have to fly back down and search the miles of stacks for it?

Jesse's worries came to an abrupt end when, with a loud
pop!
, the hole sucked the sphere upward. Then, one by one, they each followed. Jesse watched as Daisy, hair first, got sucked into the hole. When Jesse's turn came, he felt like toothpaste in reverse: getting squeezed
back
into the tube. He was vaguely aware of Daisy's sneaker smashing into his face and Emmy's delicate head beneath his own feet as, with supersonic speed, they all hurtled, screaming, toward the blinding white light.

Finally, they found themselves in a heap on the

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floor in the corner, at the very end of the
R
to
Z
aisle, in the adult nonfiction section of the Goldmine City Public Library. Jesse and Daisy were clutching Emmy's leash, which was still attached to Emmy's purple Great Dane-sized dog collar, which was still around the neck of Emmy the sheepdog, who looked as if she had just gone through the full cycle of an automatic car wash...without a car. Oddly enough, the cardboard tiara, still on her head, looked good as new. But the sphere, which lay on the floor near Daisy's left foot, was its rusty old self again. Daisy picked it up, dropped it into the backpack, and zipped it closed.

The small hole through which they had been pulled into the Scriptorium and then sucked back was now neatly sealed closed with a silver plate that looked like a miniature manhole cover. An
elf hole
cover!

The three slightly addled adventurers picked themselves up off the floor and reeled back toward the children's side. The moon still shone in the front windows, only now it had risen much higher in the sky. The place still smelled like a zoo. The same hamster was still jogging in the same squeaky wheel and the same guinea pig was still stirring in its bed of shavings.

They fell into their sleeping bags, Jesse into his