Day of the Dragon King - Mary Pope Osborne [7]
“Lost?” Jack stood up. “We’re not lost.”
“Yeah? Then which way is out?” said Annie.
Jack looked around. All he could see were rows of soldiers. In front of them, to the right, to the left, behind them—nothing but clay soldiers.
“Which way did we come?” said Annie.
“I don’t know,” said Jack.
All the rows looked the same. They stretched out endlessly.
Jack tried not to panic.
“I’d better look this up,” he said.
“Forget it,” said Annie. “Morgan said the research book would guide us. But in our darkest hour, only the ancient legend would save us.”
“Is this our darkest hour?” asked Jack.
Annie nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty dark.”
It does seem to be getting darker in here, thought Jack. The air was getting thicker, too. It seemed harder to breathe.
“Let’s ask for help,” said Jack.
He reached into the sack and pulled out the bamboo book. He held it up and said, “Save us!”
As Jack waited, the tomb seemed unbearably quiet.
Jack held the book up again. “Please help us find our way out,” he said.
He and Annie kept waiting. But nothing happened.
The air was growing even thicker. The light was getting dimmer. The countless rows of soldiers seemed creepier.
Help did not come.
Jack felt faint. “I—I guess we’ll just have—have to—”
“Look!” Annie said.
“What?”
“The ball of thread! It rolled out of your sack!” she said.
“So what?” said Jack.
He looked at his cloth sack lying on the floor. The ball of yellow silk thread had rolled out. And it was still rolling, leaving a trail of yellow thread!
“What’s going on?” said Jack.
“I don’t know,” said Annie. “But we’d better follow it.”
She hurried after the ball of silk thread.
Jack put the bamboo book into his sack and took off after her.
They followed the trail of thread down the row, where it turned down another row.
“Hey, that’s impossible!” said Jack. “That’s scientifically impossible!”
“I told you, it’s magic!” cried Annie.
Jack couldn’t believe it. But he kept following the thread.
Suddenly the trail of thread was gone. The ball had completely unrolled.
Jack and Annie stood still for a moment and caught their breath.
“What—what now?” said Jack.
“I guess we go up those stairs,” Annie said.
“What stairs?” said Jack.
“There.”
Jack looked through the dim light and saw the entrance to a stairway only a few feet away.
“Let’s get out of here!” he said.
They ran up the stairs. At the top, they saw that they were in the hall that led to the entrance of the mound.
They walked and walked and walked down the lamp-lit passage. Finally, Jack stopped.
“I don’t remember this hall being so long,” he said.
“Me neither,” said Annie. “I guess those weren’t the same stairs that we went down.”
“What should we do now?” said Jack.
“We’d better keep going,” said Annie.
“Yeah, we don’t have much choice,” said Jack.
They started walking again. They rounded a corner and came to a door.
“Oh, great!” said Annie.
“Wait. We don’t know what’s on the other side,” said Jack. “Go slow. Be careful.”
“Okay,” said Annie.
Slowly and carefully, she opened the door.
Then she peeked out.
“Yippee,” she said softly.
Annie stepped into the fading daylight. Jack stepped out after her.
The sun had gone down.
They were standing outside the gate of the Dragon King’s palace. They could see the market not far away. The stalls were closing for the day.
“We’re safe!” said Annie.
Jack breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Just then, a gong sounded. It was coming from the tower of the city walls!
“Oh, man! They’re going to close the gates!” said Jack.
He clutched his sack as they took off. They charged up the street. They ran past the market. They ran past the rich houses … past the poor houses.
Their straw shoes fell off. But Jack and Annie kept running barefoot.
Just as the giant wooden gates started to close, they tore through them.
They charged across the bridge and kept running up the dirt road, past the farmhouse, and through the field.
By the time they reached their tree, Jack’s lungs ached. His heart pounded. His feet burned.
He followed Annie up the rope