skull the size of a grandfather clock.
“You’ve awakened the dragon!” Deacon shouted, as if Oona herself had not noticed.
“I didn’t mean to!” she shouted back.
“Try using Abris neetum !” the Wizard said quickly. “The spell that should return it to a desk.”
“Ah, yes,” Oona said nervously, but raising her wand, she spotted Samuligan flinch as the dragon turned in his direction.
“Or,” she said, as an outrageous idea popped into her head, “I can use it.”
“What?” asked both Deacon and the Wizard.
Oona had no time to explain. Taking in a huge breath to steady her nerves, she leapt onto the back of the dragon, grappled it by its spine, and pointed her wand past Samuligan.
“Through that door!” she commanded.
The dragon obeyed, sweeping Samuligan aside with one thick-boned claw and charging the door. Its skull collided with the wood, tearing the door off its hinges. Its shoulders and wings were too wide, but this did not so much as slow the beast as it tore through the wall on both sides of the doorway, leaving a gaping hole behind. Oona only just managed to cling to its clattering back, her feet pressing against the rib bones as the dragon rose to its full height within the antechamber.
“That way,” Oona commanded, aiming the wand toward the front entrance. The dragon lowered its head to comply but came to a sudden halt when Samuligan vaulted through the wrecked doorway and grabbed the great beast by the tail. He jerked the tail just as the dragon tried to run, causing it to thrash violently about.
“Let go,” Oona shouted at the faerie, but he seemed to be having too much fun.
Samuligan yanked hard, and the dragon swung around in an entirely new direction before slipping from his grip. It plowed forward, now heading down the side hall toward the library.
Oona screamed and ducked, just managing to avoid a knock on the head as the beast dove down the hall, knocking pictures and candle sconces from the walls and tearing great swaths out of the enchanted carpet. It bounded down the corridor, wildly out of control, and pushed its way into the library, where they came upon a very surprised-looking Mrs. Carlyle.
The maid shrieked, diving out of the way at just the last second as the dragon crashed through the double doors into the forest of books. But suddenly, Samuligan was directly beside them. He darted in front of the beast, dropped to one knee, and raised his shield. The dragon’s teeth buried themselves in the thick wood, first cracking it and then shattering it into hundreds of shards.
Springing back to his feet, Samuligan raised his gleaming sword, clearly meaning to take off the dragon’s head. His eyes sparkled with a feverish intensity that Oona found both frightening and awe-inspiring. He seemed to be completely possessed by the moment, deep in his faerie nature, and Oona shuddered at the thought of an army of faeries storming through the Glass Gates with that same battle lust glinting in their enchanted eyes.
She yanked on the bones and shouted: “Back!”
The dragon reared, just avoiding the faerie’s deadly blow. To her surprise, Oona found that she could control the beast by steering it with her hands. She pulled to the right and the dragon turned.
We’d better get out of the library , she thought, before this thing starts uprooting trees and making things even more disorganized than they already are .
She dug her heels into the rib bones, her skirt fluttering about her ankles in a jumble of petticoats, and turned the creature back toward the double doors. Once again the beast came face-to-face with Mrs. Carlyle.
The maid, who had only just regained her feet after jumping to safety, bolted so fast for the door that her shoes flew off her feet in different directions. To Oona’s horror, the dragon took this as a cue to pursue.
“Oh no,” she said under her breath, and then louder she shouted: “Run, Mrs. Carlyle!”
Like an overexcited dog chasing a
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