Zann's breath came in ragged gasps as he ran through the darkness.
He could feel powerful magic swirling around him.
He did his best to avoid the magic energy, but it wasn't easy.
It was so dark he could barely see his hand in front of his face.
Where was he? What sort of place could be so dark and frightening?
Could it be the Cave of the Unknown? Was he deep within its endless, winding tunnels?
He touched his shoulder, but there was no crawler there to lead him out. He could be lost forever . . .
"No!" he shouted as panic overtook him.
He stumbled and almost fell, but he caught himself and kept running.
He couldn't stop running. He had to find . . . to find . . .
"Zann?" a voice called. It sounded distant and faint.
Zann's heart jumped with hope. He knew that voice!
"Dad?" he shouted. "Where are you? Dad!"
Zann leaped forward to follow the voice.
But someone grabbed his shoulder from behind.
Zann felt the person's sharp, strong fingers tightening. Or were they claws?
"Ow!" he cried, struggling to free himself.
"Let me go! I have to save my parents—they're in danger!"
But the hand only gripped more tightly.
"Zann!" the voice came again, sounding even fainter. "Zann!"
"Zann?"
Zann opened his eyes and saw his grandfather peering down at him.
"Boz?" he mumbled, squinting in the bright morning light.
Boz let go of Zann's shoulder. "Are you okay? You were shouting in your sleep."
Zann sat up and looked around. He was in his familiar bedroom in Swamp Bottom.
Well, mostly familiar. Boz had rebuilt the house as soon as they'd returned from the capital the previous day.
It looked almost the same as it had before Morb destroyed it.
But a few things were different now. The kitchen was a little bigger.
Some of the furniture was a new color or shape.
The hole that Zing had once blasted in Zann's window was gone.
"Zann?" Boz sounded concerned. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"Yes," Zann mumbled. "I mean no, not really. Sort of."
Boz sighed, rubbing his long nose. "I'm afraid it was a mistake to take you to the Cave of the Unknown. Obviously it affected you. I'm sorry."
"I'm not sorry." Zann shrugged and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "I'm glad I went."
He shot a look at the bedside table.
The message stone was there, tucked behind a framed blink image of his parents.
Boz didn't notice the look. He seemed distracted.
"I'll go and conjure some breakfast," he said. "Hurry and get dressed."
As Boz left the room, Zing scurried in. "Morning, little buddy," Zann said.
He stood up and glanced out the window.
The grass had a purplish sheen, indicating that it had rained overnight.
But the sun was bright and the aurora birds were singing.
"Nice day. Too bad I have to spend it here in Swamp Bottom," Zann muttered.
For a moment his dream came back to him.
It reminded him of the dream he'd had outside the Cave of the Unknown.
This latest dream had been scary and confusing, just like the previous one.
But he'd felt so close to reaching his parents this time!
Those were just dreams though. How was he ever going to find his parents for real?
"It's hopeless as long as I'm stuck here," he told Zing.
"I need to figure out how to get to one of those wormholes."
Zann rubbed his hands together and pictured his favorite outfit.
A second later his pajamas disappeared, and he was fully dressed.
He stepped over to his dresser and picked up a comb.
"I have to come up with a plan," he said.
"I could probably make it to First City in five or six zaps if I really tried.
Once I got there, I could rest for a while and then hop through that Wormwood wormhole."
Zing responded by shooting a small flame at Zann's leg.
Zann glanced at the dragon and sighed.
"I know it's a crazy plan," he admitted.
"But school starts again in a few days, and then I won't have time to do anything!"
He seemed no closer to finding his parents than he'd been before his adventures.
It was almost as if none of them had ever happened.
When Zann reached the breakfast table, his grandfather was waiting for him.
"Sit down, boy," Boz said, nodding toward a bowl of rice with glowberry sauce.
"I want to talk to you about something."
Zann sat down and grabbed his food. "Um, okay," he said.
"Recent events have made me think about a few things," Boz said, rubbing his nose and staring at Zann solemnly. "You're growing up so fast, Zann.
You remind me of your mother when she was your age.
She always wanted excitement and adventure too . . ."
Zann kept his eyes on his food.
His grandfather often lectured him about being too adventurous.
But no matter what Boz said, Zann was never going to give up on finding his parents.
"I have to remember that you're not a child anymore," Boz went on. "It might be time to—"
Just then a message moth flapped in. It landed on Zann's arm.
"It's from Perda," said Zann, scanning the insect's wings.
"She wants me to meet her in the swamp right away."
He gulped down the last bite of rice and stood up.
"Wait a minute, Zann," Boz said. "I really think we need to talk."
"Can it wait until later?" Zann said. "I should find out what Perda wants."
As Boz sighed and nodded, Zann grabbed Zing and zapped out of the house.