Darkling Green. Kim Thompson

before we do the second and third floors.”

      That one left Willa scratching her head, but a couple of days later Fjalarr delivered on his promise. Willa and Roshni joined him up on top of the finished first floor, where they found a rope tied to a crossbeam with the other end extending up into a small white cloud. Fjalarr pulled the rope, and down from the cloud descended the attic: a small square room with a window in each of its four sides, floating in the air like a balloon.

      Willa gasped in astonishment.

      “The wind pushes it around a little, but it’s perfectly safe,” explained Fjalarr as he drew the room down to them. Willa opened the door and set Roshni inside before climbing in herself.

      The attic was empty save for a fixed wooden perch in the centre of the room. Roshni hopped onto it and looked around approvingly. The windows provided a breathtaking view of the town and the ocean beyond.

      “It’s absolutely amazing,” exclaimed Willa, jumping back down to join the dwarf and nervously scanning the street. “But we’d better keep it out of sight.”

      Fjalarr let go of the rope, and the attic bobbed up again, disappearing into the cloud.

      “That’s why we made the cloud.” He gazed up at it in admiration. “Especially puffy, that is. Fine craftsmanship.”

      “Oh yes, it’s really lovely,” admitted Willa, though deep down she thought it still looked pretty suspicious floating there all by itself.

      Chapter Seven

      In which everyone loses their minds

      When Willa entered the house the next day, she found what looked like a long, crumpled piece of mottled tissue paper lying in the hall.

      “What is this?” She leaned down for a closer look. Baz appeared at her elbow, very interested.

      “Ooh, I can’t believe she just left it here!” Baz lifted it carefully and began rolling it up.

      “Who?”

      “Miss Trang.”

      “I thought she was still sleeping.”

      “She was up this morning, just long enough to get a cup of tea …” Baz held up the roll. “And shed this.”

      Willa recoiled. “Wait, that’s her skin? Eww!”

      Baz rolled her eyes. “Dragons shed their skin. Fact of life, get over it.” She gave the rolled bundle a little pat. “She was so sleepy that she forgot to burn it. Dragons always burn their skin after shedding it.”

      “Why?”

      “To keep it from falling into the wrong hands. There’s a lot of magic in this baby, and if the wrong person picked it up …” Baz shook her head. “Let’s just say it would not be a good thing. I’ll take very good care of this.” Baz hurried off down the hall with her treasure cradled in her arms, muttering excitedly. “And only thirty-eight days until Walpurgis Night…”

      “What is Walpurgis Night?” Willa called after her but got no answer.