The dragon was gazing away
from her, at the smoke. There was
a whirling ball of green fireworks floating over its head, shooting
off little sparks in all directions. The dragon turned and looked at
PonytailGirl; blinked its eyes and opened its mouth. As she ducked
and started to run, it made a coughing noise and blew out a cloud of
green. “My dear,” called a voice, “come back. Thornbark won't
hurt you.” PonytailGirl turned and looked. The cloud of
little green particles had not come near her at all, and was already
blowing away. “Did you talk?” she asked.
“Of course I talked. What do you expect?” the voice replied, and looking down, she saw standing on the grass, an old man with a long white beard, an orange robe, and a tall brown pointed hat. “What's a little girl like you doing here?” he called, gesturing with his staff, a long wooden one with a dragon's head carved on the end. “How did you get up there?”
“I came up that way,” she said, pointing down the outside of the mountain.
“What? From Outside? Oh dear. Something must really be going wrong,” he said. “I'd better come up.” He lifted his staff and the rocks in the cliff wall began to move, creating a narrow stairway. As he reached the top, there was a loud rushing noise and a large ball of smoke erupted from the trees. The dragon screeched, spread its wings, and lifted off. It lumbered through the air and landed heavily by the old man, nuzzling his shoulder. He stroked its nose. “Come meet Thornbark,”he said, “he really is friendly. He's just been nervous lately.” As she patted the dragon's neck it puffed a little green cloud of leaves. The old man looked around. “We're way too low!” he exclaimed. “We could be seen! The - the city looks odd. And Mount Olympus – it looks wrong too. That's not how I remember Mount Olympus.”
“Oh, That's Mount Olympus, all right,” said PonytailGirl.
He turned and looked the other way. “And that's not how the ocean should look from here!”
“That's not the ocean,” said PonytailGirl. “That's the Great Salt Lake.”
“The Great--” he stopped, considering. “Hold, Thornbark,” he ordered. The dragon held still as he reached his staff up to touch its sparkling orb. Immediately a smaller orb appeared on the end of the staff. “GreenLink,” he said, “show present location," a map appeared in the orb. “See this?” he said, “We are in the wrong place. We shouldn't be here at all!”
The ground rumbled under their feet and the dragon took off again with a cry as little ash puffs began popping up through the smoke. “That's bad!” said the old man. “Look here, my dear. I don't know if you can exit right now. This is a floating island, and it's malfunctioning. You'd better come with me. What's your name? Mine is Bixby.” She told him her name, and how she got on the island.
The orb chimed and a voice spoke. “Bixby the Green, connect.” A face appeared of another old man with a beard and a pointed hat, this time a blue one. “What did you find out?”
“The smoke is getting worse, and we're starting to get ash. The dragons are calm enough except for Thornbark. He is definitely disturbed. But I have discovered that the transfer took us to the wrong place. And we have a stowaway.”
“A stowaway? What kind of stowaway? How did that happen?”
“A child of I would say – about seven years old. She was evidently pulled in by our gravity flux. We were extremely low above the valley floor, but we're rising now. Is Torbin there, Dalfgan? We are feeling ground tremors.”
“That's what our scans show,” answered Dalfgan. “Torbin has disappeared, and when Tessa finds him, I don't envy him at all. Her dragon eggs can't take much more bouncing about. But you say the wrong place? Our readings show us positioned between a body of salt water and a mountain with erudine crystals.”
“Well, we reached Mount Olympus, but it's the wrong Mount Olympus. We are in the United States instead of Greece. I would say it's that crazy Torbin's experiments that threw us off!”
"Wacky," corrected Dalfgan. "We sometimes call him Torbin the Wacky."
“Torbin the Wacky? Torbin the Wicked, I say!” came a woman's voice. “Just let me get my hands on him! Little volcanoes indeed! No trouble! I don't think!”
“Calm yourself Tessa,” Dalfgan interceded, “Your Earth eggs are very well insulated now."
"But we'll need a new habitat!" she objected.
"No doubt we will," Dalfgan agreed. "Bixby, you'd better bring in your stowaway."
“Will do,” said Bixby. “Cut link. All right PonytailGirl, do you see that big building over there? That's where we're going." A round arena supported by pale stone pylons stood in the distance The noise grew louder as a cloud of ash erupted, coating the nearby trees. Several dragons burst through and scampered past them. More were coming across a clearing, bounding along as Thornbark flew back and forth between them, screeching and butting them with his head. They didn't all look like him; some were green and some were brown, most with green crests, and one with orange. None of the others had an orb over its head. A couple took to the air with him as he herded them past the standing stones and out of sight to the east.
"They're all different!" she exclaimed.
“They are all Plant dragons, but, yes, different kinds. And it's just as well they're getting out of here,” Bixby yelled over the din. “Take hold of my staff. Yes, that's right." As she put her two hands below his, he said," Transport! Colosseum!" and a bright green flash made her blink and feel dizzy.
The next thing she knew she was standing at the top of the arena looking out over the valley, watching rocks and trees fall over. Bixby led her down a long flight of stairs and into a wide high-ceilinged basement chamber. Around the sides there were consoles and counters full of equipment. And in the middle was a swirling orb ten feet tall showing a view of the floating island. PonytailGirl could see the flat grassy top and the pointed stone foundation. She could see the standing stones and the dragons flying away, heading for a black marsh with white water lilies. She could see the building she was in, and a little distance away, the ground breaking and mounding up, and spewing lava.
