When he had finished Sig looked thoughtful. “Daniel’s in the Bible, so he was real, once. But I don’t remember hearing that dragon story before. Listen, on Monday, why don’t you go to the library as I did, see if you can find a book about it? I know about Egypt; heck, we studied all about that—pyramids, mummies—last year. But I never heard of this Meroë place, or Nap—Napata”—he stumbled over the strange name. “But if you could find it written down, it might prove it was all true. There’s a part in this book, at the front”—Sig turned the pages hurriedly—“where it says that maybe there was a real Sigurd. Only, after he was dead people added a lot of extra things to the story, because he was a hero they liked to talk about. So now he’s more like a made-up person. Only, he wasn’t! I know!” Sig’s chin was up. He looked at Ras as if he dared him to question that.

“Daniel was real and so was Sherkarer. Even if I can’t find him in any book,” Ras said. “But I’m going to look—”

“This your wash, boy?” A lady with a scarf tied over bumps of curlers pushed up to Sig.

“Yes, ma’am.” Sig shoved his book under his belt and hurried to empty the dryer, while the lady gave impatient little snorts to urge him along. Ras went to check on his machine, not wanting Mr. Reese to speak to him again. As he left, Sig looked up.

“See you—”

“Sure,” Ras returned.

There were still ten minutes to go on the dryer. He saw Sig bag his wash and go out. But before he left he looked at Ras and gave a little salute with his hand. Ras stirred from one foot to another impatiently.

Sig had found a book written about his adventure. Was there one about Ras’s, too? When he got home he would write down all the names he could remember. And he would get the Bible and read the part about Daniel. Though he was sure that if there were a dragon he would remember from having heard it in Sunday school. Daniel in the lions’ den, that was a story he had heard several times when he was a little kid. And Sherkarer had heard the slaves talk about it in Babylon.