Day of the Dragon King Read online

  The shouting behind them got louder.

  Jack and Annie looked at each other, then dived into the back of the wooden cart. They buried themselves in the middle of the bags of grain.

  Jack’s heart pounded as the shouts came closer. He held his breath and waited for the people to leave.

  Suddenly the cart lurched forward. Someone was driving them away!

  Jack and Annie peeked over the bags. Jack saw the back of the driver. He was calmly steering the oxcart over the dirt road. They were on their way to the walled city!

  Jack and Annie ducked down again.

  “This is great!” whispered Annie. “All we have to do is jump out when we get into the city.”

  “Yep,” Jack said softly. “Then we’ll find the Imperial Library, find the book, and get back to the magic tree house.”

  “No problem,” whispered Annie.

  “Whoa!” The cart slowly came to a halt.

  Jack held his breath. He heard voices and the heavy tramping of feet—lots of feet. He and Annie peeked out.

  “Oh, man,” he whispered.

  A long line of men was crossing the road in front of the cart. They carried axes, shovels, and hoes. Guards marched alongside them.

  “Let’s find out what’s happening,” said Jack.

  He reached into his sack and pulled out the China book. Pushing his glasses into place, he found a picture of the workers. He read:

  The Dragon King forced many of his subjects to start building a wall to protect China from invaders. Later emperors made the wall even longer. Finally, it stretched 3,700 miles along China’s border. The Great Wall of China is the longest structure ever built.

  “Wow, the Great Wall of China,” said Jack.

  “I’ve heard of that,” said Annie.

  “Who hasn’t?” said Jack. “Those guys are going to work on it right now.”

  Just then, someone grabbed Jack and Annie. They looked up. It was the driver of the cart.

  “Who are you?” he asked angrily.

  “We—uh—” Jack didn’t know what to say.

  The man’s gaze fell on the open book in Jack’s hands. His mouth dropped open. He let go of Jack and Annie. Slowly he reached out and touched the book. He looked back at Jack and Annie with wide eyes.

  “What is this?” he said.

  “It’s a book from our country,” said Jack. “Your books are made of bamboo, but ours are made of paper. Actually, your country invented paper. But later, in the future.”

  The man looked confused.

  “Never mind,” said Annie. “It’s for reading. It’s for learning about faraway places.”

  The man stared at them. Tears filled his eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” Annie asked softly.

  “I love reading and learning,” he said.

  “So do I,” said Jack.

  The man smiled. “You don’t understand! I am dressed as a farmer,” he said. “But in truth, I am a scholar!”

  “What’s a scholar?” said Annie.

  “We are great readers, learners, and writers,” he said. “We have long been the most honored citizens in China.”

  The scholar’s smile faded.

  “But now scholars are in danger,” he said. “And many of us have gone into hiding.”

  “Why?” said Jack.

  “The Dragon King is afraid of the power of our books and learning,” said the scholar. “He wants people to think only what he wants them to think. Any day he may order the burning of the books!”

  Annie gasped.

  “Does that mean what I think it means?” said Jack.

  The scholar nodded.

  “All the books in the Imperial Library will be burned,” he said.

  “That’s rotten!” said Annie.

  “Indeed it is!” the scholar said quietly.

  “Listen, we have a mission to get a book from that library,” said Jack.

  “Who are you?” asked the scholar.

  “Show him,” said Annie.

  She reached into her shirt pocket as Jack reached into his sack. They brought out the secret library cards. The letters shimmered in the sunlight.

  The scholar’s mouth dropped open again.

  “You are Master Librarians,” he said. “I have never met ones so honored who were so young.”

  He bowed to show his respect.

  “Thank you,” said Jack and Annie.

  They bowed back to him.

  “How can I help you?” asked the scholar.

  “We need to go to the Imperial Library and find this book,” said Jack.

  He held out Morgan’s bamboo strip to the scholar.

  “We will go to the Imperial Library,” said the scholar. “As for the story, I know it well. It is a true one, written not long ago. But I warn you. We will be in great danger.”

  “We know!” said Annie.

  The scholar smiled.

  “I am happy to be doing something I believe in again,” said the scholar. “Let us go!”

  They all climbed into the front of the cart. The long line of wall builders was marching in the distance. As the oxen started forward, the scholar turned to Jack and Annie.

  “Where are you from?” he asked.

  “Frog Creek, Pennsylvania,” said Annie.

  “I have never heard of it,” said the scholar. “Do they have a library there?”

  “Oh, sure, there’s a library in every town,” said Jack. “In fact, there are probably thousands of libraries in our country.”

  “And millions of books,” said Annie. “And no one burns them.”

  “Right,” said Jack. “Everyone gets to go to school to learn to read them.”

  The scholar stared at him and shook his head.

  “It sounds like paradise,” he said.

  The oxcart bumped across the wooden bridge that crossed over a moat. Then it passed guards standing by giant wooden gates.

  “Are the gates ever closed?” Jack asked.

  “Oh, yes, every day at sunset,” said the scholar. “When the gong sounds, the gates close. The bridge comes up. And the city is sealed shut for the night.”

  “I guess visitors have to leave before that happens,” Annie said. “Or they’ll be stuck here for the whole night. Right?”

  “Yes,” said the scholar.

  The cart bumped between the city gates.

  Rows of small houses were bunched together on either side of the street. They were made of mud with straw roofs. People cooked over outdoor fires. They washed their clothes in wooden tubs.

  As the oxcart bumped along, the houses got larger. These were made of painted wood and pottery tiles. They all had curved roofs.

  “Why are those roofs like that?” asked Jack.

  “To keep away the bad spirits,” said the scholar.

  “How do they do that?” said Annie.

  “The spirits can only travel in straight lines,” said the scholar.

  “Wow,” whispered Annie.

  The cart went by some open tea shops. Then it passed a large market square filled with stalls and shoppers. People were buying and selling fish, chickens, firewood, wagon wheels, silk cloth, furs, and jade jewelry.

  Some people were lined up at a stall filled with tiny cages.

  “What’s for sale there?” said Annie.

  “Crickets,” the scholar said. “They make good pets. You can feed them tea leaves and enjoy their delicate song.”

  The cart moved on toward the Dragon King’s walled palace. They stopped in front of the palace gates.

  “Grain delivery!” the scholar shouted up to the guard at the tower.

  The guard waved them through. Inside were beautiful gardens and huge mounds of earth surrounded by a low brick wall.

  “That is the Imperial Burial Grounds,” said the scholar, pointing at the mounds.

  “Who is buried there?” asked Jack.

  “The ancestors of the Dragon King,” said the scholar.

  “What are ancestor
s?” Annie asked.

  “They are the people in your family who lived before you,” said the scholar. “Someday the Dragon King himself will be buried there. Three hundred thousand workers have been building his burial tomb.”

  “Oh, man,” said Jack.

  He looked over his shoulder at the burial grounds. He wondered why it took so many workers to build a tomb.

  “No!” said the scholar.

  Jack whirled around.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  The scholar pointed at the palace courtyard. A dark cloud of smoke was rising into the sky.

  “Fire!” said the scholar.

  “The books!” said Jack.

  “Hurry!” said Annie.

  The scholar snapped the reins. The oxen trotted up the stone path. When the cart rolled into the courtyard, soldiers were everywhere.

  Some threw wood on a huge bonfire. Others were carrying bamboo strips down the steep stairs that led from the palace.

  “Are those books?” asked Jack.

  “Yes. The strips are tied together into different bundles,” moaned the scholar. “Each bundle is a book.”

  “Look!” said Annie, pointing to the palace entrance.

  Stepping outside was a man in a rich, flowing robe and a tall hat. Jack knew him at once—the Dragon King!

  The Dragon King watched the bonfire as it blazed up toward the sky. Around the fire the air was thick and wavy. Bamboo books were stacked beside the fire, waiting to be burned.

  “Hurry!” said the scholar.

  They jumped down from the cart and joined the crowd by the bonfire.

  The Dragon King shouted to the soldiers. They began throwing the books into the fire. The bamboo crackled as it burned.

  “Stop!” cried Annie.

  Jack grabbed her.

  “Quiet!” he said.

  Annie pulled away.

  “Stop!” she shouted again. But her voice was lost in the noise of the roaring fire.

  “There’s your story!” said the scholar.

  He pointed to a bamboo book that had fallen off a waiting stack.

  “I’ll get it!” said Annie.

  She dashed over to the book.

  “Annie!” cried Jack.

  But she had already snatched up the bundle of bamboo strips and was charging back to them.

  “Got it! Quick, put it in your sack!” she said.

  Jack put the bundle of bamboo strips in his sack. Then he looked around fearfully. He gasped.

  The Dragon King was glaring at them! Then he headed their way.

  “Seize them!” the Dragon King shouted.

  “Run through the burial grounds!” the scholar said to Jack and Annie. “The soldiers will be afraid to follow. They fear the spirits of the ancestors!”

  “Thanks!” said Jack. “Thanks for everything!”

  “Good luck!” cried Annie.

  Then she and Jack took off. Soldiers shouted after them. An arrow whizzed by.

  But Jack and Annie kept running. They ran down the path to the burial grounds. They jumped over the low brick wall and ran between the huge mounds of earth.

  Suddenly arrows filled the air around them. The archers were shooting from the tower!

  “Look!” cried Jack.

  There was a doorway in one of the mounds. Jack and Annie ducked inside.

  They were in a long hall lit with oil lamps.

  “It’s so quiet,” said Annie. She walked down the passageway. “Hey, there are some steps here.”

  “Don’t go any farther!” said Jack.

  “Why not?” said Annie.

  “We don’t know what’s down there,” said Jack. “This is a burial tomb, remember? It’s creepy.”

  “Let’s just take a quick look,” said Annie. “Maybe it’s the way out of here.”

  Jack took a deep breath.

  “You might be right,” he said. “Okay, but go slow.” He didn’t want to stumble upon a dead body.

  Annie started down the steep steps. Jack followed. The lamps lit their way as they kept going down and down. Finally, they reached the bottom.

  Jack blinked. Even though oil lamps glowed everywhere, it was hard to see at first.

  When Jack’s eyes got used to the strange light, his heart nearly stopped.

  “Oh, man,” he breathed.

  They were in a room filled with soldiers—thousands of them.

  Jack and Annie stood frozen.

  The silent soldiers did, too.

  Finally, Annie spoke.

  “They’re fake,” she said.

  “Fake?” whispered Jack.

  “They’re not real,” she said.

  “They look real,” said Jack.

  Annie walked straight toward the front row of soldiers.

  Jack held his breath.

  Annie pulled the soldier’s nose.

  “Fake!” she said.

  “Oh, brother,” said Jack. He walked over to the soldier and touched his painted face. It was as hard as stone.

  “It’s amazing,” Jack said.

  Annie nodded. “It’s like a museum.”

  She walked down a row between two lines of soldiers.

  “Wait. This is spooky,” said Jack. “What is this place?”

  He put down his sack and pulled out the China book. He found a picture of the frozen army and read aloud:

  The Dragon King had 7,000 life-size clay figures made for his burial tomb. The clay was baked and painted.

  The Dragon King hoped that the clay army would protect him after he died.

  “It’s like the pyramid in ancient Egypt,” said Jack. “Remember? The queen was buried with a boat and lots of things to take to the afterlife.” He looked around. “Annie?”

  “I’m here,” she called. She was far down another row.

  “Come back here,” yelled Jack.

  “No, you come here,” said Annie. “It’s so cool. All their faces are different.”

  Jack threw the book into his sack. Then he hurried down the row to Annie.

  “Look,” she said. “Just look.”

  In the flickering lamplight, they wandered down the rows of soldiers. No two soldiers had the same nose, the same eyes, or the same mouth.

  “Oh, man. No wonder so many people had to work on this tomb,” said Jack.

  “They really did a good job,” said Annie.

  “Yeah,” said Jack.

  There were kneeling archers and foot soldiers dressed in red and black armor.

  There were real bronze swords, daggers, axes, spears, bows, and arrows.

  There were even life-size wooden chariots with horses. The horses looked completely real. They were different colors with white teeth and red tongues.

  “I have to take some notes about all this,” said Jack.

  He pulled out his notebook and pencil. Then, kneeling on the brick floor, he wrote:

  “Ja-ack,” said Annie. “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “I think we’re lost,” she said.

  “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.”