Eric stared at the boy. “You’re not Neal?”

Keeah frowned. “He’s not Neal?”

“He sure looks like Neal,” said Julie.

The boy’s eyes turned icy. “I’m not — NEAL!” he shrieked, his face turning as purple as the walls. “GUARDS! Take them you-know-where!”

A dog-headed creature bowed low. “Which dungeon, Duke Snorfo? The dark one or the smelly one?”

The boy grinned cruelly. “YOU decide!” Then he turned to Julie and grunted. “And you — Dumpella — get in the carriage. It’s a BIG DAY!”

Julie stepped back and blinked. “Me? Dumpella?”

“I see you’ve been shopping for silly clothes again, sister!” he snarled. “You’ll soon be back in your royal robes. Now, GET IN!”

Clink-clank! The boy snapped the fingers of his iron glove and the guards pushed Julie right into the duke’s carriage.

“See you later, prisoners!” said the boy. Then he chuckled. “NOT!”

Clop-clop-clop! Eric got a last glimpse of Julie’s face as the black pilkas reared and the duke’s carriage sped away across the tiled plaza.

Before they knew it, the troop of dog-headed guards dropped their big black nets over the three friends, hustled them to the building with bars on the windows, dragged them down ten flights of stairs, and heaved them through a metal door at least a foot thick.

Thump — thump — thump!

Max moaned as he rolled over the floor. “Is this the dark dungeon or the smelly one?”

The chief guard barked, “A little of both!”

“Don’t just visit,” said another. “Stay a while!”

The dog-headed troop woofed and huffed, then trotted out of the small stone room and slammed the door behind them — clang-g-g-g!

The sounds of the guards’ feet echoed up the stairs. A moment later, they were gone.

Max gulped. “So … that wasn’t Neal?”

Keeah looked around at the stained walls. “No. I think we found Neal’s evil twin. I mean, Neal may be nutty, but he’s not crazy.”

“Except maybe about food,” said Eric, slumping to the floor. “And that’s what probably saved him. I can’t believe it. In, like, a minute, we lose Julie, Neal, and Galen, and then we get plunked into a dungeon….”

Max rubbed his head. “A dungeon that will soon be sucked back into a bottle for a hundred years!”

“Thanks for reminding me,” said Eric with a sigh. “We’re here to rescue Hoja. But who will rescue us?”

“No one,” said Keeah, staring at some marks on the wall. “At least not here. These are messages from people who spent time in this cell.”

Eric and Max jumped up and began to read.

“‘A hundred years! No escape!’” read Max. “This is not, as Neal would say, a good thing.”

“But look at this one,” said Keeah. “‘Was here ten minutes, then found a way out. If you’re trapped — dig down — through the floor! Bye!’”

Eric laughed. “Yes! Someone escaped! Whoever it was, dug down. There must be a tunnel under the floor!”

They searched the floor of the dungeon. In one of the corners they found a large stone raised a little higher than the rest of the stones. It looked as if it had been moved.

“This is it!” said Eric. “Whoever wrote that note dug down under this stone. It’s heavy. Stand back, everybody!”

“Eric, I don’t know —” Keeah started.

Mumbling some words, he aimed his fingers at the stone. A bright silver beam shot out the ends of his fingers. Zzanng! Blam! Boom!

The spray of sparks bounced off the stone and shot back up, zigzagging from one wall to the other and sending the kids flying for cover.

“Eric!” cried Keeah, diving over Max.

Ping! Blam! Boom! Sparks blasted the stones with deep, fiery marks wherever they hit.

Finally, the light faded, and the friends were left cowering in the dim stone room once more.

“Uh, sorry about that,” said Eric. “I have a better idea. Maybe we should just, you know, dig?”

Keeah gave him a look, then smiled. “Dig.”

Scrabbling and scratching together, the three friends dug around the stone and managed to lift it.

Underneath, dug into the earth, was a hole.

“A tunnel,” said Max. “And a way out!”

They dropped into the hole and scraped along a narrow tunnel. First they went downward, then sharply upward. Finally, they saw an outline of light around a rock blocking the tunnel.

Pushing the rock forward, they followed it into a room larger and lighter than the first.

“We made it!” cried Eric.

Looking around, he saw a barred window high near the ceiling. In one corner was a heap of dirt. In another was a pile of rags. Mostly there was stone.

Except for the walls.

They were made of metal.

“We made it,” said Keeah, running her hands over the slippery metal. “But I don’t know about these walls. You can’t climb them. Even if we could, it’s a long way up. A long way …”

“And the window’s got bars,” added Eric.

Max frowned. “But where’s the door? I wanted a door. I see no door —” His tiny shoulders drooped, and he cried out, “This isn’t the way out! This isn’t even the way in. This isn’t the way anywhere!”

“Humf!” growled a voice. “I wish someone had told me that before I dug through sixty feet of rock!”