Atherton #3: The Dark Planet (No. 3) (24 page)

It's not a fairy tale after all. Max was real and he really cared.

The story's not over yet," Edgar concluded. "It couldn't have

come to the end without you three in it."

Aggie smiled weakly. Teagan wrapped an arm around her.

"Aggie, we can do this," she said. "I really think we can. You

just have to believe."

Aggie took a deep breath of dusty air and let out a small but

meaningful cough. She looked very tired to Edgar and he

thought they should get her to bed. But she smiled despite her

fatigue.

"We have to make sure Red Eye and Socket don't find out

about this," she said. "And there's not much time. We only have

tomorrow and..." She paused and glanced at her friends.

Everyone knew what awaited Edgar and Vasher--the

passageway of lies.

"Do you have some sort of plan, Edgar?" Aggie asked.

"I didn't until I found this," he said, taking the folded piece of

paper from Vasher's bunk out of his pocket. "It's from Max. He

left it for us a long time ago so we'd find it."

"No way!" said Landon. "I found that!"

Landon's energy cleared all the sadness out of the air, and the

four of them gathered in a circle as Edgar unfolded the paper. It

was a remarkably intricate drawing of certain parts of the Silo

and Station Seven with a dense clutter of numbers, symbols,

and words. Edgar couldn't read the words, but he didn't tell

anyone as Aggie turned the paper and read.

"I can't believe he wrote this when he was--what do you think?

Our
age?"

She exchanged a glance with Teagan, her constant

companion.

"All I know is this means we might be able to leave the Silo

together," said Teagan, who was a hundred and seventy days

younger than Aggie, which meant Aggie was supposed to leave

the Silo first. "And that makes me very happy."

The two girls held a lingering smile while Edgar and Landon

continued to examine the elaborate map and all the symbols.

"What do you suppose this is?" asked Edgar. He was pointing

to a cryptic diagram that showed a square-shaped object

surrounded by tiny dots exploding in every direction. There

were two words inside the square no one had ever heard:

"Hugin" and "Munin." Below the box was a long line of dots in a

row that led to a small drawing of a boy's face. Could it be

young Max Harding? Edgar didn't know. Below the boy's face

were the words "Hugin will come if you call him."

"That's some weird stuff," said Landon.

Aggie was focused on the intricate drawing of passageways

and chambers in the Silo and Station Seven.

"One thing is for sure," she said. "We need to follow this map."

Soon a plan was formed, one more vine game was played in

which the girls won again, and everyone returned to their beds

for a few hours of much-needed rest.

CHAPTER 19THE WIDEST RIVER

Gossamer was a surprisingly agreeable companion for the

many hours that Isabel and Samuel traveled down the winding

path of the yards during the night. Now and then Gossamer

would reach one of his great claws into a hole and pull out a

squirming Pythid, burn it until crispy, and then drop it in his

mouth and continue on.

The two children made a startling discovery about Gossamer

when, after several more hours of trudging along, Samuel

began to tire of the long journey.

"How long have we been at this?" he asked. Samuel's feet

were aching and he'd more than once bumped up against sharp

ledges and outcroppings of stone. He didn't want to be the first

to complain, but it was becoming difficult to hold out against

Isabel's dogged determination.

"What does it matter?" said Isabel. "We've got a ways to go and

no one's going to carry us to the end."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Samuel. He'd been

wondering for a while if there might be a way to ride atop

Gossamer, but the many inhospitable black spikes that covered

the beast from head to toe made it seem completely out of the

question.

But then the dragon had fluttered its small wings. They were

webbed like bat wings and smooth like a hammock between

thin bones, and certainly too small to ever lift Gossamer's

weight. At the ends were more spikes, wide at the base and

curved to a point.

"Look there," said Samuel, watching Gossamer spreading out

and shaking his wings again. Samuel felt a little sorry for the

creature and wondered why Dr. Harding had made it so, but

Gossamer didn't seem to mind. He sniffed and licked at the

wings, as if they were a cherished oddity he couldn't quite

understand.

"What if we sat on his wings? Then he could carry us."

Isabel looked long and hard at Samuel. "I should have

expected this."

"Expected what?" said Samuel, but he already knew by the

tone of her voice that he was in trouble.

"That you'd start complaining."

"But I'm not complaining! I'm just saying it might work, that's all.

It would be easier than walking."

"Face it, Samuel," said Isabel, off and moving again when she

saw that Gossamer, looking curious, was about to come back

and join them. "You're from the Highlands. People from up there

grow tired pretty fast."

It was times like these that Samuel wished he had been raised

in the grove with Isabel and Edgar. They both had a certain kind

of stamina and mind-set that eluded him. He'd never spent a

long day in the clutches of manual labor, tired by noon with six

or seven hours to go whether he liked it or not.

He chased after Isabel and, catching up, made his decision.

"Walk if you want, but I'm giving it a try."

Isabel shook her head in disbelief.

"Could you stop a moment?" Samuel called out to Gossamer. "I

want to ask you something."

Gossamer swung his tail to one side and its spiky surface

crashed against rocks where it sparked blue and red. His head

turned to Samuel and the awe-inspiring face stared him down.

Gossamer's expressive eyes opened wide, and the sea of

blackness surrounding them--the eyelids, the nose, the teeth

and tongue--made the brilliant blue eyes sparkle all the more.

"Could I ride on one of your wings?" said Samuel.

Isabel tried to hide her amusement, but let a peal of her

infectious laughter slip out. Even Gossamer couldn't resist it. He

first smiled with his smooth black lips, then opened his mouth

and made a sound that came from somewhere way down deep

in his throat.

Samuel felt Gossamer's hot breath and feared for his life.
What

if he blows fire all over me?
But he needn't have worried.

Gossamer's laugh came from a different place than his raging

plumes of fire.

Samuel pointed to one of Gossamer's wings. He flapped his

arms and then held them out. Gossamer so loved children he

would do anything they commanded. And he was a smart

dragon, made by a very smart man. He could understand a

great deal without much prompting.

Gossamer turned his body away from Samuel and Isabel and

leaned back, letting his leathery wings unfurl on the ground in

front of them.

"You've got to be kidding me," said Isabel. "He understands

you."

"More importantly, he's going to let us ride! Come on, Isabel.

Why not ride if he wants us to?"

Isabel shrugged. The idea of riding Gossamer had gotten under

her skin and now she wanted to try it.

"I'll take the left one," she suggested. "You take the right."

Samuel made a little hooting sound of excitement and started

for the assigned wing, careful to avoid touching any of the

spikes at the bottom or the top. When he stepped on, Gossamer

made a chirping noise as though happy to have someone

aboard.

Samuel got down on his knees and then lay down and rolled

over, facing the ceiling of the wide-open passageway. "This is

great!" he cried. "You're going to love it. It's better than your bed

back home!"

Isabel had to agree as she crept onto the wing and lay down. It

was soft and warm, cradling her protectively. She couldn't see

Samuel on the other side of Gossamer's hulking frame, but she

heard him just fine.

"Carry on, Gossamer!" he commanded. "Straight down the path

of the yards until we reach the end."

Gossamer knew the way. There were side channels that led

into the open expanse inside of Atherton, but the way of the

yards was straight and true.

Riding Gossamer's wings felt like lying on the bottom of a small

boat adrift on a rolling sea. The dragon's chest heaved slowly in

and out, rumbling like a softly snoring giant of the woods. The

effect was calming and soon the chatter between Isabel and

Samuel became thin and wispy. And then both were fast asleep

on Gossamer's wings as he made his way down, down, down

into the deepest part of Atherton.

When the two awoke neither of them could figure out where

they were or what was happening to them, enveloped as they

were in the wings of the black dragon.

"Samuel?" said Isabel, half whispering as she tested the sound

of her voice in the air. She'd awoken when Gossamer had

stopped without warning. Samuel didn't have time to respond,

for Gossamer reared up slowly and planted the back sides of

his wings on the ground. Both Samuel and Isabel glided down,

coming to rest on their own wobbly feet.

"Did we just...?" started Samuel.

Isabel jumped and finished his thought. "Ride a dragon? I think

we did!"

With Samuel and Isabel safely set aground, Gossamer shook

his wings and folded them in tight. He stretched his long spiked

neck and wandered several paces off in search of food. He

seemed to know this place as he went down a side tunnel that

required lowering his head to lumber through. A moment later

the tunnel was fil ed with glowing light, the sound of wind and

fire, and finally the crunching of teeth.

"He probably hasn't stopped to eat for a long time," said

Samuel, stretching his hands toward the ceiling. Another burst

of flame and wind arose from deeper down the side tunnel.

"He could be a while," said Isabel. "Let's see the tablet."

As Samuel pulled it out the pen and the firebugs came to life,

the bottom half of the device glowing bright blue. He held it over

the tablet so it was easier to see in the dim light.

"We could be anywhere," said Isabel, seeing that the yards kept

going, circling this way and that, until finally at some point the

way on the map abruptly ended.

"The chill of winter," said Samuel, running his fingers over the

four words. He stood and held the pen up high, suddenly

feeling certain that Gossamer had stopped not for hunger, but

for finding the end of something.

"He knew the way and the way has ended," said Samuel.

"What do you mean?" asked Isabel, but in the next moment she

could see the answer all around her as light poured from the

round opening of the side tunnel, where Gossamer was

torching another Pythid.

"Snowflakes," whispered Samuel. "Lots of snowflakes."

Images of snowflakes were carved deeply into the stone ceiling

and down the sides of the walls, the edges set in cold black

relief.

"What do you suppose is down there?" asked Isabel, glancing

toward the end of their way.

Gossamer had returned from his feast and gazed down at them

tiredly. He had walked for many hours with a heavy load and

eaten a big meal.

"We can wait while you rest," said Isabel. The dragon seemed

to understand what Isabel was saying. Gossamer sat back on

his enormous legs and his eyes fell half shut as Isabel crept up

to him.

"Thank you for protecting us," she whispered, kneeling and

touching the side of his massive black head. It was rough and

hard like chiseled stone. Gossamer sighed deeply and drifted

off to sleep.

"Let's take a look down the way while he rests," whispered

Samuel. "Maybe we can find the end on our own."

Samuel put the tablet and the pen back in his pack and

removed the small stash of water that remained. He handed it

first to Isabel, who gulped down half, then took the leather

pouch himself and finished it off. He shrugged at Isabel, put the

empty pouch in his pack, and wondered where his next drink

would come from.

"Come on," said Isabel. "He's fast asleep. I get the feeling it

won't be very far to the end."

Samuel felt the same way as the two set off down the last part of

the yards. It was wilder here, more jagged rocks and sharp

beams of light shooting every which way.

Up ahead, the way came to a wall. A hard turn to the left was

the only direction they could go, and it didn't look big enough to

allow Gossamer to pass through.

"We can't go on without him," said Isabel. "I don't want to."

"Let's just have a look," said Samuel. "We've come all this way.

Don't you want to see what the chill of winter is?"

Isabel looked back in the direction from which they'd come and

wished Gossamer would wake up. When she turned back,