Franklin raced over the dewy ground, wildly enjoying the tickling sensation of the grass as it passed over his sensitive belly. He'd never been outside of the Annex since his arrival there several months ago from the tea fields of Yunnan. As exciting as the Library was to explore, Franklin found himself positively ecstatic with excitement at being outside in the open air again.
There were so many unfamiliar sights, sounds, odors! The little dragon hardly knew where to begin this brand new adventure. He spent the first few hours chasing birds and butterflies or playing with squirrels, which was a great deal of fun for Franklin, if not the birds, butterflies and squirrels. He climbed trees and explored rabbit burrows. He even discovered the joys of trashcan diving, finding all kinds of exotic new things to sniff and taste. He enjoyed a snack of discarded cotton candy (which he loved), a handful of stale popcorn (which wasn't nearly as tasty as how Bái Shān made popcorn), and a bite or two of an old hot dog (which he disliked very much). He tasted new kinds of bugs, dug up fat, juicy earthworms and grubs and sniffed everything he came across.
He recognized dogs and cats, and remembered what his parents in China had taught him about them, that those animals were dangerous and harmful to tea dragons and should always be avoided. As vulnerable as his kind were to dogs and cats, however, the little dragon was nearly killed by a creature that he had never seen before while chasing a particularly impertinent squirrel. Franklin ran out onto a pathway made of some kind of hard smooth stone. He suddenly heard a loud roar and felt the ground shake beneath his feet. He froze in the middle of the path and looked wildly around, his heart pounding in fear.
To his horror he saw a monster bearing down on him, an utterly terrifying thing, large and dull silver, that growled and rumbled like the huge sky dragons of his homeland that brought the rains and good fortune. But rather than being long and graceful and sinewy like those magnificent creatures, this new animal was like a gigantic turtle—hard, squat and compact, with huge square staring eyes, two large silver tusks that pointed straight up on its flat face, and belching a noxious black smoke from its backside. It looked a great deal like the pictures of demons he had seen painted on the walls of the village temple back in China.
Terrified beyond the ability to think, Franklin instinctively curled up into a ball in the middle of the path and hid his eyes, whimpering prayers to the Goddess of Mercy and mightily wishing now he hadn't left the safety of Bái Shān's house. He expected any second now to feel the monster's giant tusks pierce his hide as it snatched him up to devour him.
But he was surprised—no tusks ripped him to pieces, no long, sharp claws tore into his tiny body. The beast merely passed over the huddled Franklin without touching him. It must not have even seen him—he was indeed a very lucky little dragon!
Suddenly the beast stopped with a screech. It must have caught Franklin's scent after all! Coughing and sneezing from the thick smoke that came from its tail, Franklin squealed a prayer of thanks to the Goddess as he quickly jumped to his feet and raced away before the monster could turn and attack him.
The driver of the old pickup truck threw open his door and jumped out of the cab. He jogged excitedly back to the spot where he'd seen the snake—a huge, green thing, like a python or a boa constrictor or something—all balled up in the middle of the road. But the roadway and the surrounding area was bare, not a sign of any animals anywhere, snakes or otherwise. The young man scratched the back of his head in puzzlement as he headed back to his truck. He would've sworn he saw a snake...
Franklin also remembered the lessons his parents taught him regarding humans, and any time he saw or heard one, he quickly ran to the closest cover and hid himself or climbed into the upper reaches of a nearby tree. He wasn't sure why, but instinct told him that even though Bái Shān and Chá Huā and the other members of his new family were good and kind, not all humans were like them. With his protective coloring, small size and serpentine build, he was easily able to escape notice so long as he stayed very still and very quiet.
By late afternoon he found himself on the bank of a large river, and he spent a couple more hours splashing in the shallow water as he chased tiny minnows and crawdads, his harrowing brush with the monster-demon now forgotten. It wasn't until the sun ducked behind the tree line and the light began to rapidly dim that Franklin realized he far from home. Too far, in fact. And he didn't have a clue as to which direction he should head in order to find it again.
As crickets and tree frogs began to sing, he stood up on his hind legs to try and get a better view of his surroundings, but nothing looked familiar. He'd been too focused on the things he was chasing to pay attention to landmarks. He next tried climbing up a tree for a better view, and, to his immense relief, he saw the familiar sight of Bái Shān's house in the distance, much closer than he thought it would be. He quickly shimmed down the tree and took off in the direction of home.
When he reached the structure he ran straight up to the weathered metal door. It was shut tight, and he began to scratch at it so Bái Shān or Chá Huā or one of the others could let him inside. But no one came. He thought perhaps they couldn't hear him, so he scratched at the metal even harder and more frantically, but still no one came. As fear settled over him, Franklin forgot caution and began to cry piteously for Bái Shān, his tiny claws scrabbling furiously against the hard surface. After several minutes, the little dragon's loud cries turned into a wail of despair and panic. Where was Bái Shān? Why didn't he come to the door and let Franklin in?
The frantic tea dragon struggled to make sense of the situation. Perhaps it was forbidden to go outside, and now Bái Shān was punishing him? Perhaps Bái Shān couldn't let him in again—perhaps the patriarch's house was a magic house, impossible to reenter again once someone left it? Perhaps that's why Bái Shān never left it himself? And now here was Franklin, shut out! He would never see Bái Shān or Chá Huā or the members of his family ever again, all because of his own foolishness! He was indeed a very unlucky little dragon.
Whining softly to himself in misery and remorse and not knowing what else to do, Franklin did the only thing he could think of. The hungry, exhausted dragon curled his long, sinewy body into a tight ball up against the door as closely as he could get, hiding his head beneath his coiled body. He again prayed to the Goddess of Mercy for her help in finding his way back to Bái Shān, and then cried himself to sleep.
After gathering the other Librarians and dividing the park grounds up between them for their search, Flynn spent the entire day looking for Franklin. Too ashamed of himself for trying to pin the blame for this mess on Jenkins earlier, the Librarian didn't even stop for lunch or dinner, and refused to go back to the Annex without the little dragon.
Poor old Jenkins, Flynn thought as walked the park grounds. He'd given up everything for the Library, he was so dedicated to its service and the service of the Librarians, and most of the time he had received nothing from them in return over the centuries except benign neglect at best or, at worst, outright abuse. Carsen sighed as he remembered how rudely Darrington Dare had spoken to Jenkins when he dropped rather unexpectedly into the 21st Century. Dare had treated Jenkins—had treated Sir Galahad, for Christ's sake!—dreadfully, as little more than the hired help. True, Dare was a product of the 19th Century, but as much as he idolized Darrington Dare and as eager as he was to make excuses for his behavior, Carsen had been secretly appalled, even a little embarrassed, by how shabbily the Librarian had treated the Caretaker.
And now this mishap with Franklin and Flynn's selfish reaction to it. Jenkins had had enough heartache in his long life already, the last thing he needed was for Carsen to blame him for the loss of his cherished pet. How could I have done something as self-absorbed and stupid as that? he kept asking himself. How could I have done something so childish and hurtful? Especially considering how much Flynn actually loved the old immortal. Not in the same way as he loved Judson, of course—that was a very different, special relationship—but he loved Jenkins very much, despite the older man's initial prickliness. He'd softened considerably over the last four years, though, the high walls he'd built around himself were steadily coming down now, brick by brick, especially after he became involved with Cassandra. And now Franklin. Flynn was amazed at how quickly the cantankerous old Caretaker had bonded with the tea dragon; they were almost inseparable now, and the Librarian was convinced that the only thing Jenkins loved more than Franklin was Cassandra.
The day faded and turned dark, and still there was no sign of Franklin anywhere. As Flynn hung up his phone after getting a disheartening update from Eve, he slipped his hand into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the bundle in it. It was an artifact from the Library that he had hoped would help him in his search for Franklin if all else failed; it looked now as if the time had come to use it. It was an artifact of terrifying power, and the last Librarian who used it—Romanus the Foolhardy, back in the 4th Century—had died a brutal, very messy death. But it was the only chance he had now of finding Franklin. Flynn had to make this right with Jenkins. He owed it to Jenkins, for what happened this morning and for everything the immortal had done for him and the others in the past four years.
Carsen resolutely tightened his fingers around the bundle and pulled it from his pocket.