The Dragon's Descent (32 page)

“You see anything?” Tack whispered.

Clover elbowed him to be quiet. Vero stared straight ahead and saw a rabbit nibbling on a patch of soft grass. Within moments a figure pounced on the unsuspecting creature. It happened so quickly that Vero's mind hadn't even registered what he had just seen before the headless carcass of the rabbit was thrown high into the air and landed behind the boulder. Clover dug her nails deep into Tack's arm.

The landscape before them was nothing out of the ordinary—trees, stumps, rocks, and fallen leaves. Yet what was straight ahead made Vero very alarmed.

It was the size of a Great Dane. A mohawk of heavily matted, night-black fur ran from the top of its head down its back to the tail. The rest of its body was slimy gray skin. On its feet were sharp, long, black, dirty claws. Vero sucked in a short breath when he saw its eyes.

The eyelids were completely sewn shut. But whatever it lacked in vision, it must have overly compensated for with its nose, the snout of which was quite elongated. As it sniffed the air, searching for its next prey, Vero also noticed it lacked ears; the side of its head was all leathery gray skin.

“Are you seeing something?” Tack whispered.

Vero solemnly nodded his head.

“Should we be scared?” Tack whispered.

“Yes,” Vero peeped, barely audible.

The creature turned its head in their direction. Vero instinctively ducked. Tack did not. But the beast didn't move. Vero pulled Tack's arm and yanked him down.

“You can't see it?” Vero said in a low voice.

“No.”

“Me either,” Clover whispered. “What is it?”

Vero considered this for a moment. Why had Tack been able to see the maltures in the elevators, but not this creature? And Clover had been able to see the maltures Duff and Blake, who had tormented Danny. Had they lost the sight because they had already fulfilled their mission in helping Vero find the book?

“Not sure,” Vero whispered. “But I don't think it can see or hear. Its eyes are sewn shut and it has no ears.”

“So why are we whispering?” Tack said in a low hush.

The creature breathed in the surrounding air then lowered its head as if following a scent.

“What's it doing?” Tack asked.

“Tracking us.”

Vero watched as the creature's head spun in their direction.

“Run!” Vero yelled, jumping up.

Tack and Clover dashed out from behind the massive rock. The creature bounded after them. Tack hesitated, looking behind him. He was running from a pursuer he could not see. Vero grabbed his arm.

“Follow me!”

Vero ran through a grove of trees, with Tack and Clover close on his heels. Tree branches slapped their faces. Vero could feel spurs scratching his arms as they raced through the tangled underbrush.

“Vero!” she yelled.

Vero looked back and saw Clover sprawled on the forest floor. She tugged at her leg, trying to free it from the gnarled roots of a tree. Tack and Vero raced back to her. As he pulled on her leg, Vero saw the creature looming in the
nearby shadows. It had momentarily lost their scent, but eagerly searched the air for them. The creature crept closer as Vero desperately tried to free Clover's ensnared foot.

The creature's malformed head whipped side to side, searching for their sent. Panic flooded Vero's eyes.

“Luckily, we must be upwind of him . . . He can't smell us yet. Hold your breath!” Vero whispered as he covered Tack's mouth and nose with his hand.

All three held their breath as the creature sniffed dangerously close to them. It breathed just a few feet from Vero's face, and Vero willed himself to ignore his burning lungs. He could smell the hot, foul stench of the creature's breath. Vero crouched uncomfortably, too terrified to move a muscle. He looked over at Clover. Her face was turning blue, and he knew she wouldn't be able to hold her breath for much longer. The creature would discover them.

Vero did not want the demonic beast to attack his sister or his best friend—have them fall victim to an attacker they couldn't even see. So as Clover's eyes started to bug out, Vero let out a huge breath right in the creature's face, and taunted the great beast by saying, “Your breath smells worse than a port-a-potty on a hot summer day!” And on that note, Vero hauled butt!

Vero left Tack and Clover on the cold jungle ground and ran through the thicket in the hopes the beast would follow him and thus leave Tack and Clover alone. His plan was working, as the beast was in quick pursuit.

“No, Vero!” Clover shouted, desperately tugging on her leg.

Breathing fast and hard, Vero was an easy target for the beast. The creature was closing in. Vero took off his
backpack and threw it as far away as possible, hoping the creature would mistake the backpack's scent for him. It seemed to work. The creature bounded off in the direction of the backpack. Vero ran into a grove of trees and straightened his back up against a trunk, trying to hold his breath for a few moments in order to elude his pursuer. But then Vero saw the long snout poking through a clump of moss as it whiffed the surrounding mist.

Vero had a thought as he gazed up the long, pointed nose. If he held his breath long enough, he could give himself a heart attack and transition to the Ether. He would be free of the creature. It sounded like a perfect plan, but then Vero changed his mind. If he went to the Ether, the beast could follow him there. Even worse, if he left, it could still attack Tack and Clover.

Vero could feel the Book of Raziel in his pocket. It was as if the book was calling out to him. Without Tack and Clover to distract him, he longed to look upon its pages. Perhaps the book could tell him what this creature was and how to get rid of it? He reached into his pocket, but then the beast's snout disappeared. A few moments later, Vero tentatively stepped out from behind the tree. He looked around. There was no sign of the creature.

He walked back the way he had come, looking for Tack and Clover. It was hard to remember the path, since he had been running for his life and hadn't been paying attention to landmarks. He backtracked farther into the woods, then, to his utmost surprise, he saw Tack walking toward him, holding Kane in a headlock, with Clover grabbing onto Kane's shirt.

24

THE MOUNTAIN'S SHADOW

Y
ou're all right?” Vero said, surprised to see Kane.

“Yeah,” Kane answered. “But my neck hurts. Can you tell them to release me?”

Vero motioned to Tack and Clover. “Let him go.”

“You sure?” Tack asked, tightening his arm around Kane's neck.

“Yes.”

Tack slowly removed his arm, eyeing Kane the whole time. Clover let go of his shirt.

“I'm glad you guys are okay,” Kane said. “My heart dropped when I saw that rope break.”

“What happened?” Vero asked.

“I think you cut it!” Tack accused Kane.

“What? I was just getting on the bridge when it snapped right in front of me,” Kane answered.

“How did it snap?” Vero asked.

“I don't know.” Kane raised his hands. “Maybe it couldn't take the weight of all three of you. But it really hurts my feelings that you guys think I cut it. And besides, where are these magic scissors that I would cut it with?”

“Could have been maltures?” Vero's forehead creased.

“Maybe . . . Yeah, come to think of it, I do.” Kane nodded. “I told you, they're coming after you.”

“But we kept yelling for you. What happened? How could you not hear us?” Tack said in an accusatory tone.

“I fell,” Kane said. “When the rope broke, I lost my balance and face-planted. I rolled down the stupid mountain, and lost my backpack too. But here,” Kane said, removing Tack's beaten-up backpack from his shoulder, “I think this is yours . . . I found it down in the gorge. Don't worry, I didn't take any Ding Dongs.”

As Kane handed Tack the backpack, Tack eyed him, and Vero could tell his friend was trying to assess if Kane was telling the truth or not.

“All I'm saying,” Tack said in a low voice only Vero could hear, “is that even though his shirt is kind of beat up, he looks a little too good for someone who fell down the side of a mountain.”

Vero looked at Kane. His shirt and pant legs were torn and frayed in a few places, but other than that, he really wasn't that dirty. And the holes almost looked … scorched. Maybe Tack had a point.

“And, no. I didn't run off with the book,” Kane said while under Tack's stare. “It's right here in my pocket.”

“Yeah, well, it's not the right book,” Tack said with a smug look. “So the joke's on you.”

“What?” Kane said, looking at the gem in his hand.

“That's not the real book,” Vero said. “I'm sorry, I couldn't let anyone else have it.”

“Oh,” Kane said, crestfallen. “Well, I can't say it doesn't sting that you don't trust me, but I get it. You were only being careful.”

“If it makes you feel better, I wouldn't even give it to my own mom,” Vero said, trying to lighten the foul mood.

“Noted,” Kane said.

“I'm sure that demonic thing hasn't forgotten about us,” Vero said. “We need to keep moving and get you two back to the path. I know you want to help, but I think your missions are done. That's probably why neither of you could see that thing.”

Clover looked contemplative for a moment. “I'm not going to fight you on it anymore,” she said. “I think I've had enough adventure to last a lifetime. And it seems we might be in your way now.”

“Yeah, even climbing up the thousands of steps to Sri Pada's summit seems like a cakewalk compared to trekking underground rivers or hanging from rope bridges like Indiana Jones.” Tack sighed.

“I have no idea how to get back to the stairs,” Vero said, frustrated.

Vero saw Clover staring off into the distance as if she were in a trance. Moments later, she blinked.

“I do,” Clover said. “I remember this from my dream.”

Clover led everyone through the woods, traversing a faint footpath. Kane quietly followed her while Tack and Vero lagged behind. Vero kept anxiously glancing over his shoulder, on the lookout for the demonic beast.

They reached a fork in the footpath and stopped.

“Which way?” Vero scratched his head.

Clover plowed ahead without any hesitation. “Left.”

She led them to a narrow river with fast-moving rapids. They stood on the bank.

“How are we going to get across?” Tack asked.

“It's not very wide,” Vero said. “But the currents are pretty fast.”

“And it looks deep,” Kane said.

Clover looked up the river, her eyes searching.

“Do we need to cross it?” Vero asked her.

“Yes. The steps should be right on the other side. But I know this river. I drew it, and there should be a fallen tree across it. Let's walk a little upstream.”

Clover headed north along the banks of the river. The others followed. After a few minutes, she smiled and pointed out over the river.

“There it is!”

A massive tree trunk about three feet in diameter and about twelve feet long lay across the water, stretching from riverbank to riverbank.

“Let's go,” Vero said, stepping up onto the trunk.

He turned around, held out his hand, and pulled Clover up onto the felled tree. Kane followed, and then Tack, whose feet slipped on the slick bark. He held out his arms and regained his balance.

“I might sit for this one,” Tack said, his face beet red.

The others walked across the tree as if they were traversing a balance beam. Tack sat with each leg dangling on either side of the tree, like riding a horse, and made his way across. Once everyone was on the other side, the group walked a few feet up a hill, where they saw the lights on the steps to Sri Pada in the rising morning sun. But they did not rejoin the path, choosing to stay hidden in a clump of trees.