Chapter 21 #2
“That is not a good idea,” said Katherine, her mind swimming with visions of shattered hips. “Ember, dear”—the small dragon put her paws on Katherine’s shins—“it looks like your friends have cleared the center of the room. It’s time.”
Yes, of course! Ember darted away to recruit Mr. Scruffles and the unseen Tilly, herding August in front of her. Good work, everyone! We’re ready now!
As Katherine and Mrs. Chrysler followed them to the wall to get out of the way, Ruben took the coat Katherine had stolen from the orderly and brought it over to the knot of people he’d indicated earlier, now tucked into a corner.
“Hello, Gary, old pal. It’s good to see you,” he said, gently putting the coat around his friend’s shoulders. Gary’s eyelids fluttered slightly.
“It’ll be all right, Ruben,” Katherine said softly, patting the old man’s arm as she watched the dragons expectantly. “Any moment now.”
Thanks to the coaxing and gentle shoving of the four larger dragons, bare matting now marked a clear runway to the chandelier from the hallway where they had all entered.
At its far end, there was a flurry of mewling and motion as the creatures all clamored to be first, beating their wings fiercely from a running start, eyes fixed determinedly on the chandelier as they raced to get airborne.
Yet, just as they were gaining momentum, each braked sharply in a bracing skid, running swiftly out of room and only narrowly avoiding collision.
Katherine watched in dismay as all of the previously eager dragons now stood about sheepishly, rumbling among themselves.
“What’s going on?” she said.
“Looks like physics is going on,” said Mrs. Chrysler. “Not enough space for takeoff, Katty.”
“Oh, no.” Among the people on the room’s periphery, previously animated faces were drooping, and eyes were glazing fast.
“What now?” said Mrs. Chrysler.
“I don’t know.”
“Stack the tables!” Ruben ordered.
“No, wait.” Katherine drew their attention to Ember, who was mewing fiercely as she perched on the top of a high-backed lounger.
This isn’t working! she called. August! August, where are you, dear?
The little blue dragon detached himself from the elderly hands that had been fondly petting him and put his paws on the arms of Ember’s chair. You want me to try? he asked.
Yes, dear. Quickly.
Him? a dragony voice demanded as others rumbled in surprise. He had to ride one of us to get here.
August turned to the speaker, his tail creeping between his legs. It’s true, I’m not a strong flier… He looked awkwardly around the room at the much stronger dragons who had already tried, and failed, to reach the ceiling.
But he can take off from standing! said Mr. Scruffles, marching up to the small blue dragon and sitting confidently next to him.
August nodded, his tail tentatively beginning to swish. I can.
Let him try, said Tilly, glaring at the bigger dragons.
Mr. Scruffles snorted. Size isn’t everything, after all. He gave the little blue dragon a reassuring nod, and August trotted out to the middle of the room.
Ears cocked forward, he sat back on his haunches with fierce concentration, nose in the air. Then, like a small duck launching from the surface of a pond, he leapt nearly straight up with a flurry of wings. Very much unlike a duck, however, he then seemed to dangle there.
“Well, this is certainly something,” said Mrs. Chrysler. “I’ve never seen a dragon fly like that before, have you?”
Katherine shook her head, speechless. The excited dragon was beating his small wings with blurring speed and unfathomably inching ever closer to the ceiling. He looked like an improbably large, blue bumblebee, defying the rules of physics and ratios that should obviously govern flight.
“Wow, look at that little thing go,” said Ruben, agape.
Slowly, steadily, August rose, his rapidly beating wings straining for altitude and the effort making him pant. The dragons below began cheering him on in a rumbling chorus.
One eye cocked to the ceiling, Tilly dragged a cushion into the center of the room underneath the chandelier.
As the cheering reached a crescendo, August made one final effort, his wings practically shuddering with exertion, stretching out his neck in the direction of the chandelier and blowing out the candles in one great smoky huff.
The mobile stopped spinning. Its thrumming faded away.
Its dark, waxy candles began to disintegrate.
August tumbled from the air and landed on the cushion.
Suddenly, the air in the room shifted. No longer thick and heavy with sleep, the atmosphere lifted into wakeful lightness, as if someone had swiftly opened a massive window.
“Hooray!” Mrs. Chrysler and Katherine hugged each other, and Ruben raised his cane, whooping uproariously.
And all at once, every gray-haired head below the now-inert chandelier began to turn upward and look around.
“Ruben?” said an uncertain voice near Katherine’s elbow.
“Eleanor! Jim! Gary!” Ruben threw his arms wide to receive his friends, whose once-clouded eyes began to clear as they unsteadily stood and reached out to him.
“What is going on?” demanded Gary, shaking his head in bewilderment and examining the coat that had been put around his shoulders. “I’ve had the strangest nightmare.”
Ruben’s friends weren’t the only ones to awaken. All around them, like a slow-motion tidal wave, a veritable sea of belligerent elder persons were rising shakily to their feet and asking each other what in the gods’ names had been going on.
Ruben thumped his friend heartily on the back. “It wasn’t a nightmare, Gary. It was a charm, magicking you into submission. And now we’re finally busting out of this place!”
Gary’s eyes popped wide as he looked around at the room of confused residents, dragons, and the few remaining staffers who were cowering behind furniture or shuffling on hands and knees toward the exit. His jaw clenched.
“All right, then,” he said. “Everyone, charge!” With surprising alacrity, the old man cast the coat away and headed to the exit with his friends.
Others quickly took up the call, and as one, the crowd of seniors began to advance on the hapless orderlies with irate zeal.
Soon the angry tide was spilling out into the hallway.
“Looks like we were just in the nick of time,” Katherine shouted over the clamor to the elated Mrs. Chrysler as they watched.
Hooray! Mr. Scruffles bellowed. That’ll show ’em!
August got to his feet as the human throng dispersed, bowling Mr. Scruffles and Ember over with a tumbling embrace, and showering them with loving, sloppy licks.
Well done, Tilly said, still only her purple tail visible.
Yes, yes, Mr. Scruffles added, shaking himself and smoothing his whiskers.
“Do you see any sign of Sister Agatha?” Katherine shouted over the residents’ angry din.
“No, but I’m sure she’s around. Come on!”
Mrs. Chrysler, Katherine, and Ruben, with Mouser on his shoulders, followed the uprising out to the reception area. Tilly, Ember, Mr. Scruffles, and August trotted along behind. When they arrived, they found Ms. Angela standing on her desk, demanding silence. Her hair was unkempt again.
“You!” she roared when she caught sight of the trio and their pets. “You again! What do you think you are doing?”
“Told you we’d take ownership of the property!” Mrs. Chrysler sang. “It just took a couple tries.”
“We’ve put out the chandelier!” Katherine said. “The spell is broken!”
“Everyone’s awake now!” Ruben said. “And as you can see, they’re real mad!” He craned his neck to find his friends again among the mob. Katherine noted with satisfaction that the group of bent but bright-eyed senior citizens was animatedly waving and shouting his name, entreating him to join them.
Around them, fists and walkers were shakily being brandished in Ms. Angela’s direction, and she beckoned to several of the stunned orderlies who were still around. “Get them under control!” she directed. “And make sure they”—she pointed aggressively to Katherine’s trio—“don’t get away!”
“Ha-ha! Just try it!” Ruben said.
In an instant, Tilly was up on Katherine’s shoulder, swatting aggressively at the nearest threat. Emboldened by her example, Mouser too bristled and spat, making the closest orderly think twice about approaching. Mr. Scruffles hopped up on Mrs. Chrysler’s shoulder, but she politely shooed him off.
“Um, no thank you.” She began brandishing her duckie scissors menacingly. “I’ve got my own claws.”
The room was at a standoff—the shouting senior citizens were unable to reach Ms. Angela on her desk, the orderlies looked helpless and uncertain, and a band of rogue dragons were poking their noses into all corners or rolling over for belly rubs.
Suddenly, a great crash outside drew everyone’s attention.
“Ha!” Ms. Angela spat in clear triumph. “That will be the trolls! They’ll sort you out.” She watched the door expectantly from her perch.
“Oh, no, Katty, what’s happened to Melinda?” said Mrs. Chrysler, turning to Katherine with obvious dismay. “What have they done to her? What will they do to us?”
Katherine groaned and looked desperately around. After all this, would the trolls really help Ms. Angela subdue everyone again? And put up some horrible fight so the mining business could go on as before?
The foyer doors burst open, and Katherine expected to see the hulking forms of Mr. Gneiss and his companions stride inside. Clearly Ms. Angela did too, because she began to say, “It’s about time you—” and then suddenly stopped.
Crashing through the foyer, and splintering the woodwork around the doorframes as they rushed inside, came three dragons—the three very much larger dragons that Katherine and Mrs. Chrysler had left outside with Melinda still astride one of them.
Melinda, however, was nowhere to be seen, and beyond the gaping hole left by the doors torn off their hinges, bizarre whooshes and creaks and muffled screams emanated from the grounds.