19

Thank you for flying the Portal. Please refrain from pushing as you disembark.”

Ben, Pearl, Metalmouth, and Dr. Woo stood on the tenth floor of the old button factory. Puddles formed around them as water dripped off their clothing. Metalmouth shook like a dog, spraying the walls and ceiling. There was no sign of Violet the satyress. The yellow light on the switchboard had stopped blinking. The bags of oats and ivy were gone. The shattered glass had also been cleaned up, and the window replaced with a new one.

“Who took the rain dragon’s horn?” both Pearl and Ben asked as the last wisps of tornado disappeared.

Dr. Woo set the extra medical bag into the closet. “His name is Maximus Steele. He’s not supposed to be in the Imaginary World, but he’s apparently found a way to get in.” She closed the closet door. Pearl opened her mouth, about to ask a million questions, but Dr. Woo gently silenced her with a raised palm. “Maximus Steele is a very dangerous man.” Dr. Woo’s wet hair clung to her cheeks and neck. Water leaked from the pockets of her lab coat. “If you continue to work as my apprentices, I will tell you all about him. But right now, there is another important matter to attend to.”

Ben’s sneakers squeaked as he and Pearl followed the doctor over to the windows. He’d noticed how she’d said, “If you continue to work as my apprentices.” Was she still angry that they’d broken the rules? Was she going to fire them?

The windows offered a bird’s-eye view of the front of the hospital. Two people stood at the gate. Ben recognized the red overalls of Mrs. Mulberry and her daughter, Victoria. The little red welcome wagon sat beside them. “It appears we have angry villagers at our door,” Dr. Woo said.

“Angry villagers?” Metalmouth backed up into the corner. “I don’t like angry villagers. Make them go away.” His legs began to tremble. Ben was certain he was imagining all those horrid drawings from the dragon book.

“They’re mad about the missing stuff,” Ben explained. “But they’re not going to hurt you. Don’t worry.”

“I needed to build my nest,” Metalmouth said. “I can’t sleep without a nest.”

“You are quite right,” Dr. Woo told him. “A dragon must have a nest. This is my fault, not yours. I should have provided you with the necessary materials.” She tapped her four-fingered hand on the windowsill. “If they ask too many questions, I’m afraid we’ll have to move again.”