The Dragon's Descent (2 page)

As Clover left, Vero ran down the stairs with frothy toothpaste around his mouth. Nora chuckled to herself.

Clover got off the bus before Vero. The high school was the first stop, followed by the middle school then elementary. Vero always felt a tinge of sadness when he watched Clover step off the bus without him. Even though he would join her at the high school next year, it was of little consolation because he knew that someday the separation would become permanent. He hoped and prayed they'd both be given the strength to survive once that time came.

“Hey, move over,” a boy's voice cracked.

Vero looked up and saw Tack standing over him. Sometimes he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he looked at his best friend of twelve years, because Tack no longer resembled the pudgy little kid Vero had grown up with. Tack was now nearly six feet tall, and all the places that once had been prone to baby fat had transformed into well-defined muscles. As Tack sat down next to him, his hairy, long legs bumped up against Vero's, who had also grown considerably. And Vero had even started wearing deodorant a few months ago, after Clover complained that he stunk up the whole room with BO, as well as mentioning the pungent aroma whenever he took off his socks.

But it wasn't only Tack's physical appearance that had changed—he had become more serious. He no longer held the title of class clown and had even made honor roll for the first time in his life. Most people attributed the change in Tack to the natural transition to maturity. But as Vero glanced at the stack of books on Tack's lap, he wondered—was Tack being prepared for whatever part he was to play
in helping Vero find the Book of Raziel? The archangels had told Vero that it was his mission to retrieve the all-knowing book. It blew Vero's mind when he thought about all the knowledge contained within its pages: the laws of the universe and of creation, the names of every human ever born and those yet to be born, and the names and duties of each angel. It was mind-boggling. The book had originally been given to Adam to console him after he was expelled from the garden, then passed down for generations until it eventually became lost. And though it was up to Vero to find it, the archangel Uriel had told Vero that Tack would play some part. Maybe Tack could somehow sense he had a higher purpose . . . he was a proven dowser, after all, and could sense things ordinary people could not. Perhaps that was why childish things were falling so quickly by the wayside?

“Did you figure out what you're going to do for service hours?” Tack asked Vero as the bus drove away from the curb.

“I'm not sure yet,” Vero said. “How many do we need to do?”

“Fifteen hours or else they won't pass you to ninth grade.”

“My mom wants me to volunteer at the hospital. She says lots of kids do. Plus, I can drive in with her to work,” Vero said.

“I'll do it with you,” Tack said. “My sister volunteered there and said she was delivering flowers and reading books to little kids, stuff like that.”

“I can handle that,” Vero said.

“Then ask your mom to sign us up.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, but I can't do Saturday mornings,” Tack said. “That's when my dad takes me out on dowser jobs with him.”

Vero nodded. He knew how important being a dowser was to Tack. Up until last year, his friend had shown no aptitude in the ancestral talent; then Tack's abilities sprung forth with a vengeance when he sensed that a busted pipe had caused water to pool in the gym's ceiling. He'd led everyone outside moments before disaster hit.

“Hi guys.”

Vero and Tack looked up and saw Davina Acker quickly move to the seat next to them as the bus rounded a corner. Davina always made Vero smile. She was stunning, with sparkling blue eyes and soft brownish hair, but it was her warm smile that Vero found most endearing.

“Hey, Davina.” Tack nodded.

“I thought I heard someone say service hours,” she said. “I worked this weekend at the nursing home.”

“How was it?” Vero asked.

“Sort of sad at first, but then you start to notice how grateful all the residents are that you're there, and then you're glad you went,” Davina said.

“I hear you. My grandma lives in one in Virginia,” Tack said. “When you first get there, the place kind of smells like mothballs . . . sort of like Vero's feet.”

“Hey!” Vero looked offended.

“But then my grandma and her friends are so happy to see me, it kind of becomes fun.”

“Then you guys should volunteer with me,” Davina said.

“We're gonna do the hospital,” Tack said as the bus came to a stop in front of Attleboro Middle School.

“My mom works there,” Vero added.

“Oh, there's Danny.” Davina smiled dreamily, glancing out the cracked, finger-smudged window.

Vero followed her gaze. Danny Konrad stepped off his black skateboard and kicked the tail with his right foot, flipping it into his hands. Danny looked like the all-American boy—blond, dimpled, and confident.

Tack nudged Vero. “And this is where we become invisible.”

“That's not true!” Davina exclaimed indignantly.

“Really?” Tack smirked.

“Well, maybe a little, but only because I need to talk to Danny,” Davina said as she walked up the aisle.

Tack rolled his eyes as he and Vero followed her off the bus. Danny walked toward the school's metal front doors as Davina chased after him.

“Danny! Danny!”

Danny stopped and turned around. Vero and Tack stood behind Davina.

“Hey . . . How come you didn't text me last night?” Davina asked.

“I was busy.” Danny shrugged.

“Really?”

“My dad was home . . .”

“And?”

Vero watched as a flicker of anger crossed Danny's face.

“And what? I don't have to tell you stuff that's between my dad and me,” Danny snapped.

Hurt instantly clouded Davina's eyes as Danny turned and walked away. Tack elbowed Vero, who was concerned.

“The universe must be off,” he whispered to Vero, watching Danny make his way into the school.

Deep beneath the ground wriggled the bodies of creatures—so many that they crawled over and under one another like clumps of earthworms. These beasts lived underground because light was the enemy. Darkness sustained them.

Each monster was equally hideous. Sparse, matted bunches of fur clung to their nearly emaciated bodies—bodies that resembled decomposing corpses. They hissed with grotesque, dirt-covered fangs. Their clawed hands swiped at one another, cutting into scaly, sallow skin. The lone eye that penetrated their heads could not see beneath the dark earth, yet somehow they knew the master had come into their presence. Their anger intensified, their attacks becoming more furious. The violent frenzy pleased the master. The creatures were tired of waiting for the master to release them so they could do the thing for which they were created—spread hatred. But it was not the right time. So their master kept them hidden beneath the surface, seething with chaos and hunger. When the time came, their festering hatred would erupt with a vengeance.

2

HOSPITAL ROUNDS

T
ack pushed the hospital's hospitality cart down the hallway as Vero walked in front guiding it. A balding male aide hurried past, offering the boys a slight smile.

“Ouch!” Vero yelled, spinning around to Tack, who had run over Vero's right foot and hit his ankle with the heavy cart.

“Sorry,” Tack said with a guilty look.

“Watch where you're going!” Vero complained, as he hopped on his left foot, waiting for the pain to subside.

“This thing is so tall, I have a hard time seeing around it,” Tack said, craning his neck.

It was true; the top of the cart reached Tack's eye-level. While the lower half of the cart had small drawers for candy, decks of cards, magazines, coloring books, and
crayons, the upper part held a large coffee and hot water dispenser along with cups, tea and sugar packets, creamers, and freshly baked cookies.

“Look where you're going,” Vero said as he resumed walking.

Tack placed his hands on the cart and pushed it while Vero held one hand on its front, guiding it.

“Leland! Kozlowski!” a harsh voice rang out.

Startled, Tack accidentally gave the cart a shove right into Vero's other ankle, tripping him.

“Tack, you big dummy!” Vero yelled, falling to the floor.

Rubbing his new injury, Vero looked up to see the hulking figure of Nurse Kunkel standing over him. Vero had always thought that Nurse Kunkel was as wide as she was tall, and from his current vantage point, it seemed to be true.

“What are you two doing here?” she barked.

Nurse Kunkel held out a hand to Vero, who grabbed it. She pulled him to his feet with such a force that his head nearly hit the wall.

“Our service hours,” Tack said.

“Very good,” she said as she grabbed a warm chocolate chip cookie from the cart.

Tack nodded to the sign hanging over the cookies. It read, “Patients Only.”

“Are you a patient?” Tack sheepishly asked.

“No,” she said as she shoved the cookie into her mouth. “I pick up a couple of extra shifts a month to pay for my synchronized swimming classes. They're not cheap, what with budget cuts and all.” Cookie crumbs shot out of the side of her mouth.

Vero and Tack exchanged looks.
Synchronized swimming?

“Well, carry on, men,” Nurse Kunkel said, snatching another cookie before walking down the hall.

“Come on,” Vero told Tack. “We've got to finish our rounds.”

Tack resumed pushing the cart. As they continued down the hospital corridor, Vero heard the faint whisper of a voice.

“Vero, Vero,” it softly called.

Vero stopped abruptly. The cart slammed into both his heels. He winced.

“Not my fault that time!” Tack yelled.

Vero didn't answer Tack. He was looking around for the source of the voice.

“What are you stopping for?” Tack asked.

“Vero, please . . . Room 217,” the voice said.

Vero's eyes scanned the sterile corridor. His eyes then landed on door 217, and he headed for it.

“Hey, that's not on our route!”

Vero ignored Tack and opened the door and walked inside. Tack stayed behind, nervously. Once Vero stepped in the room, he saw an angel hovering over a young woman who slept with a newborn in her arms. The angel's wings were translucent like crystal and continuously changed colors. The angel looked to Vero.

“The mother won't listen to me. She's just too exhausted,” the angel said with a sigh of frustration.

“You're her guardian?” Vero asked, surprised.

“Yes,” the angel replied. “Why so surprised?”

“I've never seen guardians here before . . . only in the Ether.”

“Oh. Well, I need your help, which is why I'm allowing you to see me.”

“What's wrong?”