8

The stairs were steep. When Ben reached the seventh floor, his legs felt as if they’d turned to stone. “This is like climbing a mountain,” he complained. Pearl, eager to get to the roof, scampered up each flight as nimble as a monkey, the bucket swinging from her hand. When Ben finally caught up, she was standing on the last landing.

“Floor ten,” she whispered.

Ben leaned the shovel against the wall. “Don’t… even… think… about… it,” he said, gasping for breath. He pointed to a sign that was tacked to the door.

Pearl pushed some wisps of blond hair from her eyes. “Oh, come on, Ben. Just a little peek. What harm could that do?”

“What harm?” His breath was wheezy. “You still want to keep this apprenticeship, don’t you? Breaking another rule won’t help, that’s for sure.”

“Drat! I guess you’re right,” she said, stepping away from the door. “I told Victoria about the dragon. I shouldn’t do anything else that might cause trouble.” She patted Ben’s shoulder. “Thanks for helping me remember the rules.”

Ben wasn’t sure she needed help remembering. But she certainly needed help following.

There were nine steps remaining, and they led to a metal door. Pearl pressed down on the handle. As the door swung open, fresh air streamed in, cooling Ben’s sweaty face. But it didn’t cool his nerves, which were sizzling with worry.