Lost Places (10 page)

“Once upon a time,” Tim announced. “There lived a kid who could tell the difference between his girlfriend and a doll. And he knew that he knew it!” He whirled and pointed at the puppet Molly in the dragon's arms. “And that's not her! The end.”

An enormous cracking sound shattered the silence, like a clap of thunder. Tim was knocked off his feet as the entire mountain convulsed. Even the dark sky seemed to be shaking, rattling the stars right out of it.

Tim covered his head as cardboard trees, patches of midnight blue sky, papier-mâché rocks, and pieces of a rubber dragon rained down on him.
Then Tim heard a screeching, and now the metal structure that had held up the entire landscape twisted, bent, and shattered. He was knocked to the ground, and he could feel pieces of the world piling up on top of him.

Eventually the horrific cacophony of destruction subsided.

Slowly, Tim eased himself out from under the rubble. He carefully checked to be sure he was okay.
I seem to still be in working order,
he thought.
Banged up and bruised, maybe, but not broken.

Tim's heart pounded as he gazed at the ruined surroundings. The castle had vanished and so had the mountain. All that he could see was pieces of metal, pieces of canvas, pieces of pillars, scaffolding, girders.

Hang on. That's not all that's here.
Tim spotted a tiny blue figure dart out from behind a pile of twisted cable and dash into an opening between two smashed sheets of steel.

Without even thinking, Tim's hand shot out. “Stop!” he shouted. “Get back here!”

Energy tingled through his arm, and he could actually see what looked like glowing ropes flick out from the tips of his fingers. These magically charged cords sought out the small blue creature, wrapped themselves around him, and dragged him out into the open.

“Why, young Timothy, it is
so
good to see you,” the creature gushed.

Tim stared at the small, bald, potbellied blue guy. He looked like an overgrown baby. A blue one, at any rate.

“Ah, young master to be, how can your future servant Barbatos be of service?”

“You can tell me where Molly is,” Tim said. “And cut that ‘master' junk.”

“Molly?” Barbatos said. “Oh, do you mean that lovely young lady who was sucked into the book with us, too?”

“You know exactly who I'm talking about,” Tim snapped. His flash of anger made the magical cords imprisoning Barbatos squeeze tighter.

“Oof,” Barbatos grunted. “I can't answer you if I can't get enough air to breathe.” He gasped.

Tim took a deep breath, calming himself, and saw that as he did, the cords loosened a bit.

“Don't play with me,” Tim warned. “You can see what I can do. Now answer me. Where is the real Molly?”

“Why, future master, isn't it obvious?” Barbatos gave Tim a chilling, innocent smile. He waved a pudgy hand at the ruined junk heap of a landscape. “She's under all that. Somewhere.”

Stunned, Tim stumbled backward.
Have I killed Molly?
He sank to his knees and gazed out
across the shattered world. He didn't even care when he let go of the magical cords and Barbatos escaped. All he could think of was finding Molly—finding her alive!

M
OLLY'S HEAD HURT, AND
her whole body ached. She lay flat on the ground and could feel a bump forming on her forehead.

What just happened?
Molly wondered.
The whole world fell apart.

She felt groggy and decided maybe she should just lie there for a while.
If the world is broken, it's not like there's any rush to get anywhere. And there's something heavy sitting on my legs. I'm too tired to move it off. I'll do it later.

“Princess, please wake up,” she heard someone pleading. “Wake up, princess, dear. I can't magic properly in this shape and I can't hold this mountain up much longer.”

Princess? Oh, that's right. I'm a princess. And I'm in a dragon's lair. I remember now. “Oof,”
she moaned. It was coming back to her.
There was a booming noise, and the roof of the cave fell in. I must
have been knocked on the head. In that case,
she realized,
I better try to wake myself up.

Slowly, carefully, she moved her legs, knocking the pieces of metal off. Then she cautiously began to pull herself into a sitting position. She noticed the entrance to the cave had been completely blocked by debris.

“I'm sorry that I tried to keep you again,” the dragon said. “I know I should have let you go, Molly. If I had, you never would have been hurt like this.”

Molly held her throbbing head. She ran her hand over the growing lump.
That's going to be a beaut,
she thought.

Her eyes finally focused on the dragon. Her mouth dropped open. He seemed to be holding up what was left of the cave, his dragon strength the only thing keeping it from crushing them.

“Your power and bravery have saved us, I see,” Molly said, still speaking in that odd, fairy tale way. “But how long can you protect us from the final blows, dragon?”

“Not much longer,” the dragon confessed.

“Then, dragon, we must find a means of survival.”

“Princess, might I ask one small favor of you?”

Molly could see him straining to keep the roof from caving in on them. “In light of your honorable actions, I will try to grant you a boon. Ask.”

“I wonder if you'd mind calling me by my real name. Call me Timothy or Tim or even Mr. Hunter, if you'd rather be formal. Anything but ‘dragon.'”

Molly's blood ran cold. He couldn't have said his name was Tim Hunter. Not this dragon, this beast! But in her sinking heart, she suddenly knew it was true.

As Molly had these thoughts, her fairy-tale princess dress dissolved. “I've already got a Tim, buddy,” she said, her voice sounding like her own again. “And you aren't him. I'll stick with ‘dragon,' okay?”

She rummaged around for something to help the dragon brace the roof with, avoiding his hurt—and frighteningly familiar—eyes. “Here,” she said, shoving a steel column into a pile of rubble and jamming it into a somewhat solid section of the roof. “This should help hold up that area, so you don't have to take the whole weight.”

“Thank you, Molly,” the dragon said. She could hear pain in his voice.
How can I be feeling sorry for a dragon?
she asked herself. Foolish or not, though, she did.

She turned to face him squarely. “Look, I know you think you're Timothy Hunter. But couldn't that be part of the fairy tale? You know, like me thinking I was a princess after I put on that stupid dress. This whole world is all just one big game of pretend!”

“No, Molly,” the dragon replied gravely. “The only pretending I'm doing now is pretending to be a dragon.”

“B-b-b-but how—” Molly sputtered, so distraught she couldn't even finish her question.

“I am a version of a Tim that he could grow up to be,” the dragon explained. “The Tim who uses his magic for power, for glory, for selfish reasons. I am the Tim who mingles with demons, does their bidding as they do mine. I feed on anger and war. Now I know why I am in this form—this dragon is a true representation of my soul.”

Molly sat down hard. Her legs wouldn't hold her up anymore. “You are what Tim will be when he grows up?” she said softly. “Oh, no,” she moaned, her stomach tightening. Her breath came in sharp gasps as she choked out, “It's you.
You
are the grown-up magician Vuall was training me for.”

“Yes,” the dragon admitted. “I see now that was wrong.”

“You said it yourself,” she said, the horror of it making her feel trapped and panicky. “You created lots of different versions of me, because you wanted me to be different from who I really am.”

“I should have left you as you are,” the dragon said.

Molly shut her eyes, trying to think, trying to understand, trying to make it not true. “And you are the future,” she stated flatly. “Tim's future. My future.”

“Maybe.”

Is he trying to make me insane?
She opened her eyes, tears streaking down her face. “Maybe? What do you mean, maybe?”

“The way my demon Barbatos explains it, I am what your Tim will become if certain things do—or
don't
happen.”

Molly's shallow breaths came more rapidly, but her heart now speeded up with hope rather than fear. Could she stop all this from happening? “What things?” she demanded.

“I don't know,” the dragon said.

Molly slowly rose to her feet. “You tell me,” she said. She strode toward him. “You tell me the truth or I swear I will knock out this brace and make sure neither one of us gets out of this fairy tale alive.”

“No!” the dragon cried. “I couldn't bear to see you come to harm. I truly don't know what events take place to get me here. I—I sold my memories.”

Molly stopped midstep. “You did
what
?”

“I sold my memories to the demon Barbatos in exchange for power. I don't know what happened to me between the ages of thirteen and thirty. I don't know what decisions or choices I made. I do know that I have a lot of power, or so Barbatos is always telling me.”

Molly covered her face with her hands and shuddered. “Oh, Tim,” she murmured. “Tim.”

“Now I want you to stand away from me,” the dragon instructed. “I can't hold the roof up any longer. There is only one way to keep the world from crushing you, and I don't want you to get hurt when I do this.”

Numb, Molly did as she was told. She backed up as far away as she could from the dragon, wondering what on earth was going to happen next.

Her eyes widened as a tiny blue creature materialized in the cave. She blinked, recognizing him from somewhere. “You!” she shouted, pointing at him. “You were the one who had me kidnapped by the pink dinosaurs.”

Barbatos ignored her outburst. He planted
himself in front of the dragon. “Don't do this!” he begged. “Oh, master, it's not worth it. You'll destroy all we've worked so hard for.”

“Get away from me, Barbatos,” the dragon roared. “I must save Molly and this is the only way.”

“No!” Barbatos screeched.

Timothy Hunter, dragon, reared back his head and blasted the roof with flames. Molly buried herself in the rubble, trying to escape the searing heat. Over and over, the dragon shot flames. The smell of melting metal and soot and ash was overwhelming.

Molly heard a loud thud and felt the ground beneath her shake. She peeked out from her hiding place, and gasped.

The dragon had saved her. He had burned away the roof, so that nothing could crash down on her, and now she'd be able to climb over the debris to get down the side of the mountain. But he had incinerated himself in the process. His lifeless, singed body lay in the center of the cave.

Barbatos stood over the dead dragon. As he noticed Molly moving, he focused all his fury on her. “This is all your fault,” he growled. “He was almost evil all the way through. But you brought
out a soft spot in him. This isn't over yet, girly.”

Before Molly could reply, Barbatos snapped his fingers and vanished.

“F
IRE!” TIM CRIED. “I
bet that's Molly sending up a flare!” Tim didn't bother to worry about where she might have found something like that here; he just wanted some reason to hope she was alive. He raced to the spot where he had seen the enormous flames.

Once the fire stopped, he followed the scent of smoke up the side of a large mountain of debris. He found a smoldering, dead dragon, with Molly kneeling beside it.

“Molly!” he exclaimed. “Molly, is it really you?”

She looked up at the sound of his voice, and even without his glasses he could see that she'd been crying. “Oh, Molly, of course it's you,” he murmured, hurrying to her side.

He knelt down beside her and held her close. “Everything is all right now,” Tim told her.

After a few moments, she seemed calmer, and he helped her to her feet. He eyed the dragon. “You know, it's not so great for a bloke's ego if he keeps showing up just
after
you've managed to rescue yourself. I see you got rid of the dragon without any help from me at all.”

Molly shuddered. “I just want to go home, Tim.”

Tim's forehead furrowed. No banter? No quip? She was even more shook up than he realized. “Okay, Molly,” he said softly. “We'll go home.”

She rubbed her face, spreading soot where tears had been.

He pulled the Opening Stone from his pocket. “Take us home,” he commanded. Nothing. He stared down at it. It didn't even glow the way it always did at home.

“What do you think is wrong with it?” Molly asked.

Tim shrugged. “Maybe it won't work here because this is an artificial world created by a demon.”

“Now what?” Molly asked.

Tim scratched his head. “I don't know. I've never tried to get out of a book before.” He bit his lip, thinking. “Wait, I have an idea. There was this demon—I had him in my power before. I bet I can do it again and force him to get us home.”

A look of horror spread across Molly's face. “No! Don't do that.” She backed away from him.

“But, Molly—”

She cut him off. “Tim, do you care for me?” She took his hands in hers. They were ice cold. “I mean, really, really care for me?”

“What kind of question is that?” Tim replied. “You know I do.”

“Then you have to promise me something. Will you swear…swear by your name for me?”

Tim was startled by her vehemence. “By my
name
?” He had once explained the power of names to her, so he knew this was no casual phrasing on her part.

“Yes, by your name,” she said.

“What do you want me to swear?” he asked.

“You must promise me that you won't say another word to demons. Or listen to them. Or do trades with them. Ever. Just leave Barbatos alone. Leave him here in this dumb fairy tale like the nightmare that he is.”

“B-but how will we get home?” he asked.

“This is more important than getting out of here. You're swearing right now. Or you and I are through. Forever.”

Tim grinned. “Oh, right. It is about time for us to break up again, isn't it?”

“This isn't a joke,” Molly said. “I'm not teasing.
I mean it this time.”

Tim studied her face. He could tell something had happened to her, something big, and it was making her ask for this. “Uh, Molly, do you know something I don't know?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Aren't you going to tell me what it is?” he asked softly.

“I don't think I can,” she said in a voice full of heartbreak.

Tim stroked her sooty face gently, brushing her hair back. “Well, you've trusted me when it was probably stupid to do so. I know I can trust you, too. All right, I swear by my name.”

Molly took in a deep, shaky breath. “Thank you.”

Tim pulled her to him. “Better?” he asked.

Molly smiled up at him, her eyes still sad. “Much.”

“One thing, though,” Tim said, slinging his arm across her shoulders. “No demons, no answers on how to get out of this fairy tale.”

Molly smirked, looking once again like the girl he knew. “Oh, Tim,” she said in a taunting tone. “Isn't it obvious?”

He took a step back and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Obvious to whom?”

Molly laughed, and he felt instantly better.
“We want this little adventure to end, right?”

Tim nodded.

“This is a fairy tale. And how do fairy tales end?”

Tim smacked his forehead. “Of course. You're right. It
is
obvious. How do you put up with my stupidity?”

Molly rolled her eyes. “It is quite a burden, you know.”

Tim took her hand again. “All good fairy tales end with a happily ever after.”

“A happy ending,” Molly agreed.

Barbatos materialized in front of them. “Don't, young Timothy,” he cautioned. “You're making the worst mistake of your life. I can help you! You need me!”

“I swore by my name to have nothing to do with demons,” Tim said, his eyes never leaving Molly's. “I think what I'm about to do should take care of everything just fine.”

He kissed Molly, and the false world melted away around them. When he took his lips from hers and opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that he could see clearly again.

“My glasses!” he exclaimed. “I have my glasses back!” He and Molly were standing under the narls' tree in the abandoned lot.

“Look! It's the Opener!” Tanger cried.

“And Molly! Welcome home!” Crimple added.

“Wow, look at you two!” Molly said. The two little narls fluttered around them. The once-twiggy creatures were now covered in flowers, and each sported translucent wings.

“You see,” Tim said. “Leaving your place didn't make you die after all.”

“Why, you're right!” Tanger said. “We seem to still be quite alive! Or I'm a saucepan!”

“In fact, leaving our place turned out to be just the thing for wing growing,” Crimple added.

“You might even say, going on an adventure with you, Opener, opened up a whole new world to us,” Tanger said.

“That must be why you're called the Opener!” Crimple concluded.

Tim grinned. “Could be,” he said, taking Molly's warm hand in his. “Could be.”