The Trap (The Magnificent 12 2)

Mack’s phone rang. “Really?” he asked Xiao. “You have cell phone service down here?” He glanced at the display. The golem calling again.

It wasn’t a good time. He muted the phone. It continued to vibrate softly in his pocket.

“You may be as ready as can be, but I am not ready to see you go. And your mother will be angry with me for letting you. But we have duties, duties you understand well despite your age.”

“We are the defenders of learning and culture, of respect for our elders and for tradition,” Xiao said, like she was reciting from memory.

Huang Long nodded his head. His pride in his daughter was clear despite the fact that he was, after all, a dragon. But he was troubled, too.

“What do you know of your destiny?” Huang Long asked Mack.

“Not much,” Mack admitted. “All I know is there’s this Pale Queen, and she was locked up, like, three thousand years ago. And now she’s getting out. And we’re supposed to stop her.”

Mack was mistaken. There was no English paper in his computer. No paper of any kind. I don’t think there was even any room in there for a paper. I tried to call Mack. No answer.

Huang Long looked troubled, hesitant, like he wasn’t quite sure how much he should say. Then he took a deep breath and sighed a long, long sigh. A long sigh.

Dragons have very big lungs.

“You must learn the Vargran tongue. Those who have the enlightened puissance can use those words to magical effect. But only when they are young. Too young, and the enlightened puissance is too undisciplined. Too old, and the mind becomes too rigid. There is a very narrow window of opportunity.”

“Yes, we’ve used some Vargran words,” Mack said.

“Oh, yeah,” Stefan agreed. Then he made a whooshing noise, mimicked a fireball exploding, and pointed at Mack. “Boom. It was epic.”

“Grimluk has sent you here to find my daughter,” Huang Long said. “But perhaps even more importantly so that you may study Vargran. We have a very ancient Vargran text.” He frowned at the shelves of books. “That’s the one. The old book bound in red-dyed alligator skin.”

Mack followed the dragon’s gaze and saw the book. The book that would teach them all the secrets of Vargran. The book that might give them the power to save the entire human race.

The book that was roughly five feet wide, seven feet long, and two feet thick.

“Do you have it on a flash drive?” Mack asked. “Or maybe as a download?”

Xiao shook her head at him. “It’s not the kind of thing you get at the iBooks store.”

“You must stay with us awhile and study,” Huang Long said. “In a few short months—”

“Sir, we have thirty-five days. Maybe thirty-four, depending on how late it is.”

“Ah.” The huge dragon was taken aback. He began counting on his talons. “Yes, thirty-four days. Math was always my weakest area of study.”

“Father, we have to go soon or risk failure,” Xiao said.

The dragon looked pained. “Your mother and I hoped this day would never come, though we felt it might. I still had hopes that you would grow to wise old age, here in our home. That I would one day read with joy your own poems and books, and learn from your studies. That day may yet come, but you will be forever changed by the struggle ahead.”

Xiao said nothing, too overcome to trust herself to speak.

Huang Long then bent far forward. Mack thought he was going to give her a kiss—not that dragons have lips exactly—but he leaned down toward Stefan.

“You,” Huang Long said. “I feel your courage. Will you protect my daughter?”

Stefan did not seem the least bit frightened. It took more than a giant dragon to scare Stefan. But he seemed solemn.

“Dude,” Stefan said to the King of Dragons, “you saved my life. I totally owe you. I’ll get her back to you in one piece. Or die trying.”

That seemed to satisfy Huang Long. He sat back on his throne. “Go, my most perfect songbird, say farewell to your mother. Then, with these, your companions, assemble the Magnificent Twelve and save the world.”

It was a beautiful moment. Mack wished he had the nerve to take a picture.