24

The Thing About Trigers

Hiking was no fun when you were mad at everyone else.

Hattie stomped ahead of Evelyn and Jacob, grinding the dirt under her boots. Am I the only one who cares about Majestica? To them, the Stone—or the Gem, or whatever it was called—was a fun mystery to solve. She couldn’t believe how easily they had thrown around the idea of dismantling the Caretaker. It would ruin the park!

She stared out at the savannah, where the afternoon light struck the trees and grass, spinning them into gold. The birds told stories and sang songs. In the distance, a group of minotaurs was lumbering along. Majestica’s beauty went straight into Hattie’s heart.

How can all of this not mean anything to them?

Before the Caretaker, this had just been a hotel and a few creatures in cages. The Caretaker had created all the different landscapes in the park—the jungle, the savannah, and the mountain. It had made the habitats that kept the animals alive. If it was gone—truly gone—would all of this disappear? Hattie had been too little to remember what the land had looked like before. Not like this.

She squeezed her hands into fists. The Caretaker was a magical machine, one of the wonders of the modern world! Everyone said so. The staff and the animals—Hattie’s family—depended on it. It wasn’t—it couldn’t be some stupid rock. It would mean Mr. Ridgewell had lied about everything.

Tears stung her eyes. Am I the only one who believes in this place?

Then, out of nowhere, Evelyn snorted.

Hattie was so surprised, she forgot to be angry. “What’s so funny?” she demanded.

Evelyn looked startled. “I…don’t know.”

For some reason, Hattie found that extremely hilarious. A loud giggle burst out of her. “So why are you laughing, then?”

“Why are you laughing?” Evelyn shot back.

Hattie dissolved into a fit of giggles. “It’s just…” she gasped. “So…funny…”

Jacob had started to laugh too. “You know what’s even funnier? There are eyes in the bushes!”

Hattie clutched her side, cramping from laughter. Something was nagging her, though. Jacob’s words had pulled a string that was attached to a memory…

The bushes rustled.

This wasn’t right. Hattie and Evelyn had just had a huge fight, but now they were laughing and clinging to each other for balance. She felt like she was floating in bubbles. Everything important had gone right out of her head.

And yet the memory still tugged at her. “How many eyes?” she asked.

“Eighteen!” Jacob grinned.

“Four,” said Evelyn, in a more serious voice. “No…six.”

Trigers trick their prey by making it feel happy. Hattie heard Dowson’s gruff voice, and it all fell into place. If you’re out in the wilderness and you suddenly start laughing, watch out.

Slowly—slowly—Hattie turned toward the bushes. Something was lurking in there, crouched low in the grass. A striped tail twitched back and forth. Six eyes stared at Hattie from three enormous orange heads.

It was a triger.

Luckily, Dowson had warned her about this. The small creatures of the wild were helpless because they only listened to their feelings and instincts. But people could reason. People could think.

Hattie swallowed her laughter. “Evelyn, don’t make any sudden movements. Listen to me—that’s a triger out there.”

Evelyn giggled. “Very funny. Oh—you’re serious.”

Hattie’s mouth wouldn’t stop smiling. It was very inconvenient. “Deadly serious.”

A growl rumbled in the beast’s throat. Picking up an impossibly huge paw, it set it down without even crinkling the grass. Inch by inch, the triger crept closer. All three of its mouths opened, revealing deadly white teeth.

One for each of us.

“There it is!” Hattie giggled. “It’s stalking us!”

Evelyn grabbed her shoulder for support. “And we’re just,” she gasped, “standing here!”

“We’re not even moving!” Jacob burst out, and they all doubled over as if it was the best joke they’d ever heard.

We’re in so much danger, Hattie’s brain told her. But her body wouldn’t move.

A blast of hot air struck her in the face. The ground trembled like an earthquake, and a cloud of dust flew toward them. Hattie threw her arm up to protect her eyes. A trumpeting cry echoed across the savannah.

Agatha had landed right between them and the triger.

Hattie’s giggles disappeared, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over her. Blinking, she looked at the others. From their dazed expressions, she could tell the same thing had happened to them. Startled by the dragon, the triger bounded away. But Agatha didn’t chase it. She crouched in the grass, watching them with eyes like multifaceted jewels.

“My thoughts are all clear again,” Hattie whispered to the dragon. Cautiously, she touched her forehead. “That was you, wasn’t it? Th-thank you.”

Agatha burped out a thin stream of smoke.

Evelyn squealed, covering her eyes. Jacob tripped over Jeffers and fell in a pile of robes. Hattie was the only one who stood her ground.

She took a deep breath. “What is it?” she asked the dragon. “What do you want?”

Something about Agatha’s eyes was mesmerizing. The dragon’s smoky breath tickled the hair around her face. She should have been terrified. But somehow Hattie’s feet itched to step forward…

“She wants to eat you!” Evelyn squeaked. “Oh, Hattie, be careful!”

Hattie took a step toward the dragon. Agatha didn’t smile or nod, but somehow Hattie knew she approved. The dragon was urging her forward with her eyes.

She took another step.

With a snap, Agatha coiled her wings. A gust of lizardy air whooshed over Hattie. The dragon lowered her neck, stretching out her enormous head. It was nearly as tall as Hattie was from head to toe. Taller, if you counted the webbed horns protruding from her forehead.

“You’re very pretty,” Hattie blurted out.

Agatha made a noise like a purr. Unfortunately, she opened her mouth at the same time, revealing teeth the size of fence posts.

Hattie gasped.

The dragon made a puzzled sound and shut her mouth, looking regretful. Swiveling her head, she offered Hattie a smooth expanse of purple neck. Her scales shimmered with colored highlights—pearly pink and blue and gray.

Hesitantly Hattie reached out her hand. Behind her, Evelyn whimpered, and Jacob whispered to her to shut up. Her fingers touched the dragon’s neck.

Sensations slammed into her brain. The jungle from above, green treetops and blossoming leaves. The cool wind in her face as she flew at a dizzying height. A pair of swirling dragon eyes.

“She says…” Hattie sorted through the images Agatha had sent her. They were so big. The memories of a dragon, not a human. Her brain felt squeezed, as if Agatha’s thoughts could not quite fit inside it. “She says she used to know our speech. But it’s been so long that she’s forgotten. She’s…giving me pictures instead.”

“What is she showing you?” Jacob asked.

“I…don’t know.” Hattie closed her eyes. “Two dragons flying. A sunburned man. He’s standing in the grass, wearing a straw hat and boots. He’s— Oh!”

She snatched her hand away as if it had been burned. Her heart pounded.

“What?” Jacob touched her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Hattie lied.

The man she’d seen was her father. She was certain of it. For one thing, he was dressed just like Dowson, in khaki shorts and muddy boots. And besides, there was a picture of Tom Swift in the corridor outside Mrs. G’s office. She had spent hours staring up at it.

Somehow she didn’t want to tell the others what she’d seen. She wanted to keep the memory of her father private, just for her.

“She’s sad about something,” Hattie said instead. “Something she lost. I…I don’t know. It’s hard to understand her.” She shook her head. “It’s—it’s all pictures and feelings and wings.”

Steeling herself, she touched Agatha again.

A dark corridor with slick, wet walls—something dripping—a power that hummed and throbbed ominously—

“I see…a dark place,” she whispered. “Underground.”

She knew that place. It was the lowest level of the basement, underneath the lake, where there was a door that was always locked.

She spread her fingers flat on the dragon’s scales. This time she was battered with images. A lake, glimmering in the sunlight. Marble columns and steps. Diamond-shaped black-and-white tiles. Rows and rows of windows. A brilliant turquoise pool—pointed gables—thousands of green roof tiles—

She was seeing it like she’d never seen it before—from the perspective of a dragon. But even from the sky, she knew it by heart.

“The hotel,” Hattie said. “I see the hotel. She says she’ll take us there.”