The Trap (The Magnificent 12 #2)(17)

“Welcome to Long Xiang,” Xiao said.

Stefan opened his eyes and struggled to focus. “Huh,” he said, and slumped again.

“Crikey,” Jarrah said.

“Whoa,” Mack said.

Xiao stood aside so they could see better. Just then something that looked an awful lot like a very big snake began to emerge from one of the nine palaces. It was hard to judge size from this distance, but it looked about as big around as a redwood tree and as long as four or five city buses end to end.

It was brilliant yellow with scales that flashed in the light of the artificial sun.

It was not a snake. For one thing, it was far too big to be a snake. Plus it had four stubby lizard legs. Each leg ended in five claws.

Its head was almost horselike. But it had two horns that twisted back from its brow, horns that must have been as long as flagpoles. It had a mouth at once fierce and laughing, as if the creature found many things amusing, and then ate those amusing things.

It slithered and squirmed from the palace.

Then, without wings or jet engines or rockets, it slithered right up into the sky.

“That’s like . . . that’s like a . . . ,” Jarrah said. But she was baffled as to just what the creature might be.

“A giant flying snake?” Mack offered.

“Not a snake!” Xiao said a little angrily, like the idea was disgusting. “That is my father.”

“Your father?” Jarrah said with a disbelieving laugh.

“But he’s a—whatever,” Mack said. “And you’re . . .” Mack felt a warning prickling on the back of his neck. Mack was good at noticing things. He’d been distracted by the unreal sights before him. But still he’d heard a slight shushing, slithering sound coming from Xiao’s direction. And he’d noticed that her name, Xiao Long, had the same word—Long—as the name of this place, Long Xiang.

Slowly Mack turned.

Xiao was much smaller than her father. But even more brightly colored, mostly a delicate turquoise with gold streaks. And scales. And the four stubby legs.

“Jarrah,” Mack said.

“Ya ah ah!” Jarrah cried.

“Long,” Mack said. “What does that mean in Mandarin?”

“Dragon,” Xiao said. “I am Xiao Long—Young Dragon. And this, Mack and Jarrah and Stefan, is the place no human has seen in centuries. Long Xiang: Dragon Home.”

Stefan, his voice a whisper, said, “Dude, I think I’m dying.”

He fell from Mack’s grip and began to roll down the long ramp.





Chapter Twelve



The vast yellow dragon snaked through the sky.

The much smaller turquoise dragon—Xiao—suddenly took flight and soared up toward him.

And Stefan rolled down the ramp. With each revolution he left a small red stain on the stone.

Mack and Jarrah pelted after him, but he had picked up a fair amount of speed and the ramp was steep. It was like trying to catch a ball rolling downhill away from you.

But then, down came both dragons, Xiao and her father. They landed on the ramp in front of Stefan.

Mack felt the earth bounce from the impact of the landing.

Stefan rolled right into the giant dragon’s giant claw. He came to a stop.

Mack and Jarrah arrived breathless in the shadow of the monstrous scaled beast. Its head was as big as an SUV. Its eyes were like beach balls.

Angry beach balls.

“I have asked my father to help this boy,” Xiao said. “He has agreed.”

“However . . . ,” the giant yellow dragon said.

It was a single word, but it was a big word. The sound blast blew Jarrah’s hair back. It made Mack take a step back. It vibrated through his body from the ground up and from the air down and sort of reverberated back and forth so that he was like a Jell-O cube in an earthquake.

“However,” Xiao said, “this does not mean you might not be killed later.”

“If you can help him, do it!” Jarrah said. “We’ll take our chances.”

Xiao’s father nodded his huge head. Then, with a delicateness and care Mack would not have believed possible, he raised one leg and extended one claw and with perfect precision sliced Stefan’s shirt open.

Mack winced when he saw the wound. Jarrah let loose a small cry of dismay. It was worse when you could see it clearly. Mostly because you could see that the hole was very close to Stefan’s heart.

How was he going to live with himself if he’d gotten Stefan killed? That fear wasn’t a phobia; it was something different. Darker, more stomach churning and less panic inducing.

Xiao’s father then stuck the tip of his claw right into the hole.

“You’ll kill him!” Jarrah cried.

The huge dragon’s beach ball eyes, with vertical slits that reminded Mack of a cat’s eye—and into which a full-grown cat could fit quite easily—flicked toward Jarrah.

“Silence, girl,” the dragon said, and again, spoken in that very large voice, it had the effect of making both Jarrah and Mack think they’d better just stand there quietly until called upon.

The dragon’s claw plunged deep into the wound. Blood bubbled around it.

Then the claw was slowly, slowly withdrawn. It came away without a sign of blood. And when it was fully withdrawn, Stefan’s chest was dry and normal except for a small pink scar.