Day of the Dragon King (5 page)

“Ja-ack,” said Annie. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I think we're lost,” she said.

“Lost?” Jack stood up. “We're not lost.”

“Yeah? Then which way is out?” said Annie.

Jack looked around. All he could see were rows of soldiers. In front of them, to the right, to the left, behind them—nothing but clay soldiers.

“Which way did we come?” said Annie.

“I don't know,” said Jack.

All the rows looked the same. They stretched out endlessly.

Jack tried not to panic.

“I'd better look this up,” he said.

“Forget it,” said Annie. “Morgan said the research book would
guide
us. But in our darkest hour, only the ancient legend would
save
us.”

“Is this our darkest hour?” asked Jack.

Annie nodded. “Yeah, it's pretty dark.”

It does seem to be getting darker in here
, thought Jack. The air was getting thicker, too. It seemed harder to breathe.

“Let's ask for help,” said Jack.

He reached into the sack and pulled out the bamboo book. He held it up and said,
“Save us!”

As Jack waited, the tomb seemed unbearably quiet.

Jack held the book up again. “Please help us find our way out,” he said.

He and Annie kept waiting. But nothing happened.

The air was growing even thicker. The light was getting dimmer. The countless rows of soldiers seemed creepier.

Help did not come.

Jack felt faint. “I—I guess we'll just have—have to—”

“Look!” Annie said.

“What?”

“The ball of thread! It rolled out of your sack!” she said.

“So what?” said Jack.

He looked at his cloth sack lying on the floor. The ball of yellow silk thread
had
rolled out. And it was
still
rolling, leaving a trail of yellow thread!

“What's going on?” said Jack.

“I don't know,” said Annie. “But we'd better follow it.”

She hurried after the ball of silk thread.

Jack put the bamboo book into his sack and took off after her.

They followed the trail of thread down the row, where it turned down
another
row.

“Hey, that's impossible!” said Jack. “That's scientifically impossible!”

“I told you, it's magic!” cried Annie.

Jack couldn't believe it. But he kept following the thread.

Suddenly the trail of thread was gone. The ball had completely unrolled.

Jack and Annie stood still for a moment and caught their breath.

“What—what now?” said Jack.

“I guess we go up those stairs,” Annie said.

“What stairs?” said Jack.

“There.”

Jack looked through the dim light and saw the entrance to a stairway only a few feet away.

“Let's get out of here!” he said.

They ran up the stairs. At the top, they saw that they were in the hall that led to the entrance of the mound.

They walked and walked and walked down the lamp-lit passage. Finally, Jack stopped.

“I don't remember this hall being so long,” he said.

“Me neither,” said Annie. “I guess those weren't the same stairs that we went down.”

“What should we do now?” said Jack.

“We'd better keep going,” said Annie.

“Yeah, we don't have much choice,” said Jack.

They started walking again. They rounded a corner and came to a door.

“Oh, great!” said Annie.

“Wait. We don't know what's on the other side,” said Jack. “Go slow. Be careful.”

“Okay,” said Annie.

Slowly and carefully, she opened the door.

Then she peeked out.

“Yippee,” she said softly.

Annie stepped into the fading daylight. Jack stepped out after her.

The sun had gone down.

They were standing
outside
the gate of the Dragon King's palace. They could see the market not far away. The stalls were closing for the day.

“We're safe!” said Annie.

Jack breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Just then, a gong sounded. It was coming
from the tower of the city walls!

“Oh, man! They're going to close the gates!” said Jack.

He clutched his sack as they took off. They charged up the street. They ran past the market. They ran past the rich houses … past the poor houses.

Their straw shoes fell off. But Jack and Annie kept running barefoot.

Just as the giant wooden gates started to close, they tore through them.

They charged across the bridge and kept running up the dirt road, past the farmhouse, and through the field.

By the time they reached their tree, Jack's lungs ached. His heart pounded. His feet burned.

He followed Annie up the rope ladder. When they got inside the tree house, Jack collapsed.

“Let's—go—home,” he said, out of breath.

He reached for the Pennsylvania book.

“Wait,” said Annie, looking out the window. “They found each other.”

“Who—found—who?” said Jack, panting.

He dragged himself to the window and looked out.

Two figures embraced at the edge of the field.

“The silk weaver and the man who takes care of the cows!” said Annie.

“Oh, yeah,” said Jack.

“Bye!” Annie called to them.

The couple waved back.

Annie sighed happily.

“We can leave now,” she said.

Jack opened the Pennsylvania book and pointed at the picture of the Frog Creek woods.

“I wish we could go there,” he said.

The wind started to blow.

Jack looked out one last time at the Chinese couple. They seemed to be glowing like stars.

The tree house started to spin.

It spun faster and faster.

Then everything was still.

Absolutely still.

Jack opened his eyes. He was wearing his own clothes and his sneakers. The cloth sack had turned back into his backpack.

“Welcome home, Master Librarians,” said Morgan.

She stood in the tree house, smiling at them.

“Hi!” said Annie.

“We brought you the ancient legend,” said Jack.

“Wonderful!” said Morgan.

Jack reached into his pack. He took out the China book. Then he pulled out the bamboo book. He handed them to Morgan.

“What's the legend about?” said Annie.

“It's called
The Silk Weaver and the Cowherd
,” said Morgan. “It's a very famous Chinese tale.”

“Guess what, Morgan?” said Annie. “We actually
met
them! We helped them get together!”

“Oh, did you?” said Morgan.

“Yes!” said Jack. “The silk weaver's ball of silk saved us!”

“What does the legend say about them?” asked Annie.

“It says that long ago they were heavenly beings who lived in the sky,” said Morgan.
“When they came to earth, they fell in love.”

“That's when we met them!” said Annie.

“Yes, I imagine so,” said Morgan. “The book you brought back tells about their happiness on earth. But I'm afraid a later legend tells us that when they returned to the sky, the king and queen of the skies separated them by a heavenly river called the Milky Way.”

“Oh, no,” said Annie.

“They get back together once a year,” said Morgan. “On that night, birds make a bridge in the sky over the Milky Way.”

Jack and Annie gazed up at the bright summer sky.

“Go home now,” said Morgan. “Come back two weeks from today. Next you're going to find a book in the country of Ireland, over a thousand years ago.”

“That sounds like fun,” said Annie.

Morgan frowned.

“I'm afraid it was a very dangerous time,” she said. “For Viking raiders often attacked the seacoasts.”

“Vikings?” said Jack. He'd had enough danger to last a long time.

“Don't worry about it now,” said Morgan. “Just go home and rest.”

Jack nodded.

“I'll try,” he said, pulling on his backpack.

“Bye,” said Annie. “See you in two weeks.”

“Thank you for your help,” said Morgan.

“Anytime,” said Annie.

They headed down the rope ladder.

From the ground, they waved to Morgan. Then they started for home.

As they got to the edge of the woods, Annie stopped.

“Listen to the crickets,” she said.

Jack listened. The cricket chirps sounded louder than usual.

“Their ancestors lived in the time of the Dragon King,” said Annie.

“Oh, brother,” said Jack.

“Right now the grownups are telling the little crickets a legend,” said Annie.

“Yeah, sure,” said Jack.

“A legend passed down from their ancestors,” said Annie.

Jack smiled. He didn't want to admit it, but the cricket noise
did
sound like storytelling. He could almost hear them saying,
Dragon King, Dragon King, Dragon King
.