Nobody knew why Dragon’s Cliff was named as it was.
Except Arthur. He knew.
Arthur clutched Captain Dragon’s treasure map and laughed.
“Fifty more paces, and I’ll be rich,” he mumbled.
As his feet walked the final fifty paces, his mind raced through all the wonderful things he’d buy with the gold.
Or diamonds. Or whatever Dragon had buried.
It was after forty-five paces that Arthur encountered two forces of nature at once:
- Erosion had worn away the cliffs in the three centuries since Dragon made his map.
- Gravity yanked him the seventy feet down to the rocks below.
Thud.