Gilbert Guttlebocker,

Defender of Dragons

8. Doop. Yep. Doop.

The long, dark corridor was punctuated with bright flickering torches posted on either wall at even intervals, each torch about ten feet away from the previous one. As they followed the great dragon down the hall, the stone structure's damp chill contrasted with the heat cast from the torches. Barkley, immediately behind the monster, kept his sword at the ready.

“I apologize that the other students aren't around,” Yiiri rumbled. “It is late and past their curfew. All students are expected to be in their rooms from ten o'clock until five in the morning. During the day, this hallway is hustling and bustling with activity.”

Between the torches, gigantic tapestries caught Gilbert's eyes. While he didn't have enough time to examine any of them closely, it was plain to him that they all depicted scenes of knights involved in great deeds of various kinds. On either side of the corridor, closed doors marked rooms that would apparently be inaccessible to the three students tonight.

“The ground floor is primarily classrooms,” the dragon explained. “The interior rooms are entirely classrooms,” he said, with a nod to his right, the inside of the curved building. “The exterior rooms,” nodding now to his left, “are kitchens, bathrooms, and housing for your teachers — as well as for the female students. Male students are up on the next three floors.”

Gilbert looked down at Bernice, still unconscious in his arms. This time, she was neither drooling nor snoring. She looked so peaceful now that she was asleep. Indeed, with her perfectly speckled porcelain skin and delicate, orange curls bouncing this way and that around her lightly freckled face as he walked, Gilbert even thought that she may — possibly, perhaps — have been just a little bit pretty. Even if she was a nuisance when she was awake, it made him rather nervous to think of leaving this poor, young, defenseless girl on a different floor — a floor where she would be literally surrounded by monstrous, fire-breathing serpents.

“Here we are,” Yiiri announced. “Room 173. Dolores Dandyfrugal and Bernice Buttersalt. I'm sure Bernice will get along well with her new roommate. Dolores is an excellent student — a third-year girl. She'll be able to help young Lady Bernice with virtually anything she needs.”

“Dolores has been here for three years?” Gilbert asked, having difficulty believing she had lived that long given present company.

“This year will be her third year, Master Gilbert,” Yiiri replied. “You'll need to bring the young lady here though. The door will only open to the room's occupants. Keyless fingerprint entry, you know.”

After a moment's hesitation, Gilbert reluctantly carried the girl toward the door that was now enveloped by twirls of smoke emitted from the crouching dragon's oven-like nostrils. Barkley gripped his sword more tightly.

“Just place her hand on the push pad, and the door should swing open as you press it forward.”

Gilbert did as instructed, placing Bernice's palm on the pad attached to the door and pushing the door inward. It swung silently into the room. As Gilbert — Lady Bernice in his arms — entered the room, the hard, white floor, slowly and gradually, became translucently irradiated. The light from the floor was only mild — little more than a nightlight in lumens — but it successfully lit the entire layout of the room, enabling him to easily maneuver throughout that foreign territory without bumping into a single thing.

To the left of the door, and along the same wall, was a desk covered with books and papers. A chair sat slightly askew at the desk, awaiting an occupant. A matching desk, this one empty of clutter, sat against the wall to the right, with a closet door beside it. A sink with a mirrored cabinet above it resided against the far wall, next to a mini-refrigerator. In the far corner was a set of bunk beds, with a covered figure asleep, curled up in the top bunk.

Lady Dolores, no doubt, Gilbert thought.

The boy carried Bernice over to the bottom bunk. He lay her down gently on the luxuriously soft mattress, carefully placing her head in the center of the fluffy white pillow and gently brushing her curls to either side of her face.

“Good night, Bernice,” he whispered.

He turned around and stepped out of the room, back into the corridor with the ancient dragon and the boy that seemed to despise him, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Now for the boys,” Yiiri announced, his lip curling menacingly. “Just follow me.”

They reluctantly continued on a few paces until they came to a large opening on their left, with a spiral staircase heading upwards and also down into the depths of the earth. Yiiri headed upward.

“What's down there?” Barkley asked.

“Down there?” the dragon hissed. “Down there is the dungeon.”

Both boys peered down the staircase, but so black was the darkness they could detect nothing beyond the first dozen steps. Chills went down Gilbert's back as he turned to follow the others up the spiral stairs.

When they had come to the second floor, the dragon exited the staircase and entered the hallway. The boys followed him.

“Master Guttlebocker, you'll be staying here on the second floor. Room 267. I trust you can find your way from here?”

Gilbert eyed the fiery serpent suspiciously.

“The door will open to your hand.”

The boy nodded reluctantly.

“This is not the last you'll see of me,” the dragon added. And then, under his breath, “I promise.”

Gilbert ground his teeth, wondering if the dragon's 'promise' was little more than a thinly veiled threat.

“Master Bumperwaggle, you'll be one flight above, in room 349.”

“See you later, nitwit.” Barkley turned and bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Yiiri returned to the stairwell, his enormous body gliding fluidly back down the staircase.

And Gilbert was alone.

He turned and looked down the curved corridor in either direction. After checking the numbers on the doors, he chose the path that seemed as though it would take him to his room quickest.

As he continued down the hallway, he began to hear a distant series of reverberating booms increasing in intensity, and Gilbert realized that something gigantic was approaching behind him. He turned, fearful that Yiiri had already returned, hungry for a supper of Gilbert flesh.

Instead, a long green face displayed itself around the curve of the corridor far behind him — a face that was attached to an even longer neck.

“Oh, excuse me,” the green dragon apologized, surprised at the sight of the boy. “I thought all you kids were asleep. Uh... wait… you should be asleep too. Yep — you should. Why are you out here in the hall, young man?”

“I'm… uh… Gilbert Guttlebocker. I'm new. I just… I was just looking for my room.”

“Guttlebocker! Well... haw-haw-haw,” the dragon laughed goofily. “I knew your father!”

“You know my dad?” Gilbert asked.

“Sir Gawain? Yep. Uh-huh. One of our best knights. I know all the knights who pass through here. Well, if they stay on my floor, that is.”

“Your floor?” Gilbert asked.

“Yep — this is my floor,” the dragon explained. “I'm the dorm dragon for this floor. I walk the halls, make sure everyone follows the rules, and do my best to help you boys do your studies and become knights. Uh-huh — that's what I do.”

This dragon was as immediately lovable as Yiiri had been immediately terrifying. Gilbert instantly felt comfortable around the enormous beast and was overjoyed to think that at least someone here seemed friendly.

“What's your name, sir?” Gilbert asked.

“Doop,” the dragon told him. “My name is Doop. Yep. Doop.”

“Doop the dragon,” Gilbert repeated.

Doop smiled. It was an endearing smile, warm and loving, hopeful, and genuine. And Gilbert noticed that the dragon's teeth were not sharp, but wide and broad and rounded.

“Let's get you to your room, young man,” Doop suggested.

Gilbert nodded.

The dragon turned and meandered slowly down the hall. “We've put you into the same room your father was in while he was here. Uh-huh, we did. Yep.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. That's how things are normally done if we can. The kids like it, and it makes things a lot easier for me to remember. Guttlebocker, room 267. Just like before.”

“Is… did he… um…”

“Your father wasn't really the best student. Didn't do so good academically. Nope, not at all. But he was the best we had at jousting. And he loved to joust. Does he still go jousting nowadays?”

“Uh — jousting? Um… no, not really.” Gilbert thought and thought but couldn't think of a single time he had seen his father joust.

“Had a great gift for blacksmithing too. And he went to church religiously. Yep. That's important for a knight.”

“That sounds like my dad,” Gilbert acknowledged. “Oh — could you tell me how to get to Holy Trinity Church?”

“Holy Trinity Church. One of your father's favorite places.”

“Yeah — he told me I needed to go every Sunday so I could be around… uh… crosses.”

Turning his head back toward the boy, a hopeful look on his face, the dragon asked, “Yep — because the cross is about the love of God for men, by the death of His Son, Jesus, to atone for sins?”

“Um, no,” Gilbert answered with embarrassment. “Something about Constantine.”

The dragon sighed, nodded, and turned back, continuing down the hall. “Everyone here loves Constantine. They sure do.”

“I hear he was a great king,” Gilbert added hopefully.

“He was a king alright,” Doop agreed. “But there's only ever been one great king. Yep. Only one. The church is out to the west. You'll need to climb the mountain to get to it. I think services start at ten, so make sure you get up early on Sunday.”

The boy nodded. “Thanks,” he said.

“Your roommate is a boy named Archibald,” the dragon told Gilbert, changing the subject. “Seems like a good kid. Showed up yesterday. He's new like you are, he is. I suppose he'll be good at academics. Not so sure about jousting though.”

“Archibald?”

“Archibald. Yep. Archibald Anderhockish. Don't know his father.”

“Hmm,” Gilbert replied, being polite. “Um… what does Yiiri do here?”

“Yiiri? Well, he's the headmaster. Yep. He's in charge of everything.”

“The headmaster,” Gilbert mumbled to himself. Then he asked the dragon, “Will I… will I see him much?”

“Oh, here and there. He won't be teaching any of your classes. He only teaches the older boys. Likes to make sure they're really prepared before they leave. But you'll see him around. Probably not every day though. Sometimes he leads school assemblies. Things like that.”

Gilbert breathed a deep sigh of relief.

The two continued together down the corridor, Gilbert watching the room numbers as they gradually approached the magic number of 267.

“Do… um… do students ever... go missing?” the boy asked.

“Missing? Well, not normally, nope.”

“Not… normally?” Gilbert pressed.

“Well, I guess last year the Bosnickity boy disappeared about halfway through the second semester. And, uh, before him, there was the Uberwhalenhousen boy. And the Robitybugman boy before him. And, of course, the Donantinely boy as well. And the Fromuslick boy. And the Bobberwhalen boy. But other than that, last year, no one else disappeared.”

“That was all just last year?!?” Gilbert exclaimed.

“Yep — that was all. So, no, not normally. Nope, boys don't normally disappear from here.”

Gilbert began to feel slightly light-headed.

“Well, here we are. Room 267,” the dragon pointed out.

The boy carefully pressed his hand against the pad, and the door swung open for him as he pushed. Turning back to Doop, he said, quietly, so as not to wake his new roommate, “Thank you, Doop. I'm sure my dad will be happy to know we've met.”

Gilbert shut the door behind him, relieved to finally be at the end of his journey. Nevertheless, it took a long time for him to fall asleep, and when at last he did he was haunted by nightmares of Mugsy. Burning.