Dragon Sleeping (The Dragon Circle Trilogy Book 1) Read Free Page B

hadn’t been developed quite right. He went to the door, then stood and stared for a minute. Mr. Mills cleared his throat. Nick’s mother didn’t say a word.
    “What’s going on?” Nick asked when he found his voice.
    “We don’t know,” Mills replied. He tried to smile reassuringly. Teachers could always smile reassuringly. Somehow, today, Mr. Mills’ smile didn’t work.
    “Something’s changed,” Mills added after a moment. “Chestnut Circle is still here, but—well, it doesn’t seem to lead into Oak Street.”
    Nick laughed at that, a quick, braying sound, louder than he’d meant it to be. What was Mr. Mills talking about? Nick tried to think of another question, something that would sound intelligent. Nothing came to mind. He decided he had to see for himself. He stepped outside.
    “Something’s changed”? That was all Mr. Mills could say? Nick felt the way he had when his first dog died and all the adults kept talking about his pet “passing away.” It was more like everything had changed; like their corner of the world had gone crazy.
    The sky had a green tint to it, and the sun was the kind of red you got at the end of a day in fall, except now that red sun was almost directly overhead. The houses around Chestnut Circle looked different, too, partially from the weird shift of colors. But some of the houses also had great strands of dark ivy crawling up their sides where there had been nothing but boards or brick the night before.
    And there was more. At the far end of the circle, out where Oak Street used to be, but also in those spaces where he could see between houses, out beyond every yard, there was a forest made up of hundreds of thick, tall, dark trees; trees that plunged everything beneath them into shadow, so that the little clearing of Chestnut Circle was the only real point of light.
    “My lawn!” that same voice yelled from down the street. “I’ll call the city about this!”
    Nick saw Mr. Sayre wildly waving his hands over his head. Sayre hadn’t been out last night with the ice cream truck. It had probably taken his lawn to bring him out in the daylight. The only time Nick ever saw Mr. Sayre was when he was out working on his yard. Now, though, his manicured grass had turned a sickly blue, and a full quarter of his front lawn had been taken over by that same dark, thick ivy that attacked his house.
    Sayre turned and glared straight at Nick, happy at last, Nick guessed, that there was somebody outside that he could yell at. “I’ll call the city, I tell you!”
    Nick had a feeling, even if the phones worked, that there would no longer be a city to call.
    “What should we do?” Nick’s mother asked from the doorway to the house.
    “I think it’s best if we get everybody together,” Mr. Mills replied. “We all know each other here in the neighborhood, at least a little bit. We certainly know each other better than we know what’s happened around here.”
    “That sounds good,” his mother replied with a curt nod as she unfolded her arms. “Besides, I’m really worried about Constance Smith.”
    Mills nodded back. “Joan, if you can get Constance, and Nick goes next door and tells the Dafoes? The Jacksons, too.” He turned to look out across the yard. “Why don’t we meet in front of your house? I’ll go up to the top of the circle and get the Furlongs. Maybe I’ll even be able to talk some sense into old Sayre.”
    Both Mills and his mother started walking before Nick could say a thing. Not that he minded talking to the Dafoes. Heck, there might even be a chance that Mary Lou would answer the door. But the Jacksons? If Todd Jackson made Nick’s skin crawl, talking to Todd’s father made Nick’s skin want to jump off his body. Todd would threaten you if you smiled at him the wrong way. Smile at Todd’s father, and Mr. Jackson would start swinging.
    Still, Nick supposed it was better than having to talk to crazy old Sayre, who was still out there screaming