Jinx On The Divide (3 page)

"Rhino?
Like a river-fatty -- er -- rhinoceros?"

"A river-fatty is a
hippo
potamus."

Betony looked annoyed. She was especially proud of her ability to remember Felix's names for the mythical creatures of her own world.

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"Rhino's his nickname," said Felix. "His real name's Stephen Rheinhart."

"What's he like?"

"Horrible."

"Oh, terrific. This was going to be my chance to see
your
world, Felix -- cities and movies and subways."

"We'll come right back."

"Won't your parents miss you?"

"My dad's going to Edinburgh tomorrow, on business," said Felix. "He won't be back until Christmas Eve. So he's out of the way -- just Mom to deal with. I know. I'll tell her we've been invited to a sleepover." He turned to the carpet. "Nimby," he said, "how fast can you fly?"

"Well, I'm not a racer as
such"
said the carpet. "But I do like to think I'm a cut above average."

But it wasn't quite as easy as that.

"What time do you need to be there?" asked Felix's mom. "I'll drive you."

"It's not far. We can walk."

"You can't be too careful, Felix. Don't forget, your school friend Rhino's disappeared."

"Rhinos are always disappearing," said Felix, his heart beating faster. "There are hardly any left in Africa now."

Felix's mother gave him a sharp look.

"Oh, come on. It's not the first time Rhino's disappeared, Mom. He's always doing it."

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Betony elbowed Felix in the ribs, and they went into the hall. "I'll do an illusion spell," she said. "It worked on her before -- she's a good subject."

"Tell her we're away for several days," said Felix. "Just in case. And make sure she doesn't try to contact us. And that she doesn't worry -- she should think we're having a great time, going to theme parks and stuff."

"Anything else?" asked Betony sarcastically. "You don't want me to eradicate all known shadow-beasts and invent a new dance while I'm at it?"

Felix grinned. "How about wealth beyond my wildest dreams?"

Betony laughed. "You'll just have to make do with the most beautiful tangle-girl in the world."

The illusion spell worked perfectly, although Mrs. Sanders insisted on baking a cake for them to take with them. It was one of her best -- a walnut sponge cake with chocolate butter-cream sandwiched in the middle. She put it in a plastic container and snapped the lid shut so that it was airtight. Then she gave them both a hug and warned them not to eat it just before going on the roller coaster.

They left conventionally by the front door, and then they ran around to the backyard. Nimby was lying rolled up on the grass, where they'd thrown him out of the bedroom window. "That was the most undignified descent I've ever done," said the carpet. "Why did I have to stay rolled up?"

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"In case someone saw you," said Felix. "OK. Back to the Pennine Divide. You know the way."

It was nearly dark by the time they reached the Divide, and they would never have known where it was if they hadn't been there before. Felix read out the spell, and there was that curious little jump sideways as the magic positioned him with mathematical precision, and froze him into place. Then everything went black as the second half of Ironclaw's ingenious spell failed to split Felix's indivisible self in two, and, as intended, shot him off to the other world instead.

The library in Andria, where Betony was studying to be a historian, was the biggest center of learning in her world. It was an ancient wooden building, housing thousands -- if not millions -- of handwritten volumes, and even a few of the newfangled printed books as well. Betony was Thornbeak's apprentice. Thornbeak had recently become famous for her
History of Flint feat her
and now had her own office. It was situated in the new history section, with a little picture of a brazzle on the door, painted in gold. It was a rather nice painting. It caught the sheen of Thornbeak's plumage perfectly, as well as the gleam of her claws and the soft velvet curve of her hindquarters.

Soft velvet wasn't the best description of Thornbeak's mood as she slammed the door shut with her wing, lashed

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her tail, fixed her daughter with an acid yellow stare and said, "You're not going, Fuzzy, and that's that."

"Mom."
Fuzzy lowered her feathery brows and glowered. "I've flown farther than that on my own before."

"Yergud's a japegrin town. You're a brazzle."

Fuzzy clenched her talons in annoyance. "You're living in the past."

"That's what I'm paid to do," snapped Thornbeak. "I'm a historian. Which you're not, not until you've passed your exams."

"I don't want to be a stupid historian, anyway," said Fuzzy. Thornbeak's eyes narrowed. "So I've heard."

"Who told you?"

"Never you mind."

Fuzzy unsheathed her claws, and then sheathed them again. Naked claws were the height of bad manners, and a well-bred brazzle never exposed them indoors. She had been expecting a more extreme reaction from her mother -- either a full-scale squawking session or a sharp peck where it hurt. "You don't
need
two assistants," she grumbled, "because you never think anyone else can do anything right. You give Betony all the interesting stuff. I want to travel. I want to see snow. We never get any snow in Andria. I could be a courier."

"A
courier?"
Thornbeak lashed her tail so hard this time that the tassel knocked a twig off the antique perching branch fixed to the wall. "With your education? Are you out

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of your mind? Cock brazzles are mathematicians. Hens are historians. That's the way it is."

"Why?" returned Fuzzy, who liked math very much.

"You're little more than a fledgling, Fuzzy," said Thornbeak icily. "Wait until you've been around for a couple of centuries like me, and you'll see that a sinistrom doesn't change its spots."

[Image: Fuzzy.]

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"Except when it's disguised as a lickit," said Fuzzy, with a superior lift of her beak as she notched up the best points she'd scored over her mother in a long time.

Thornbeak's eyes narrowed even more.

"It's not fair," complained Fuzzy. "You let Betony go off to
another world."

"Betony's different," said Thornbeak. "Just look at you, with your feathers sticking out all over the place. The library isn't some kind of fashion opportunity, Fuzzy, it's a place of serious study. I want to see those feathers properly preened, and I want you back at the perching rocks by sunset."

"Sunset?"

"Sunset," repeated Thornbeak. She tucked a few more volumes under her wing, opened the door, and strode off toward the entrance hall.

Well, fishguts to that,
thought Fuzzy. /
bet she made up all that stuff about brazzles being unpopular in Yergud. I could sneak off during my lunch break: She'd never notice; she'll have her beak stuck in some boring old manuscript.

Sure enough, by lunchtime, Thornbeak was hunched in a corner of the library, reading something about peck patterns on pottery. She didn't even look up as Fuzzy hurried past. Fuzzy was doubly glad: She didn't want Thornbeak to ask her where she was going -- nor did she want her mother to see that she'd had some of her spikiest golden feathers dyed black, and her talons painted with pink and orange polish.

As soon as she was outside, Fuzzy took off and headed for

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the mountains, which lay between Andria and Yergud. The air was crisp and clear, and it felt good to be alive. She settled down to a nice regular wing beat, and started to sing a disgracefully rude raptorial song her father had taught her, which was used to cheer on the local math team. She felt very grown-up. There would be herds of nobble-heads and packs of snagglefangs up north. Rumor even had it that wild fire-breathers lived in the craters of spitfire mountains, but it probably was just a rumor. No one had seen one for decades.

She did a couple of backflip swoops and a tricky little triple-twist tumble. She was one smooth brazzle; Yergud would be a piece of fish.

Felix was aware that he was shivering before he was aware of anything else. He opened his eyes and sat up. He realized he was sitting on snow, so he got to his feet. Everything was pearly gray and misty, as though he'd found himself in the middle of a cloud. Presumably, they were on the Andrian Divide, somewhere above the snow line, but it was impossible to see any detail and therefore impossible to recognize any landmarks.

It was getting dark -- and it was bitterly, achingly, lung-crushingly cold. He hugged himself to keep warm, and blew into his hands. His breath swirled out like puffs of dragon smoke, dense and white. He had put on his warmest parka, but it was about as effective as a plastic bag.

Betony stood up, stamped her feet, and gave him a thumbs-up. She was wearing a thick green cloak she'd brought with

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her, and fur-lined leather boots. She took a pair of woolen mittens out of her pocket and put them on.

"This feels like the Arctic," said Felix. It took him longer than usual to get the words out, because his teeth were chattering like castanets. He'd probably caught a cold already; he'd have to spend Christmas in bed and make do with turkey soup. Just at that moment, the idea had a certain appeal.

"Let's get on with it," said Nimby, hovering so that his warp didn't freeze up. "I think this is a spitfire mountain. There are lots of them around here."

Standing on it didn't particularly bother Felix -- he'd visited both Arenal and Irazu, in Costa Rica. The chances of it choosing that moment to erupt were minuscule. "I thought we were going to find someone who would do the summons safely," he said.

"That means going to Andria," said Betony. "It'll take ages. I think we should risk it."

Felix took the lamp out of his backpack. It all seemed a little hit-or-miss. "Suppose the brandee won't release Rhino until I produce a scientist?" he said.

"Lie," said Betony. "Tell him we're still in
your
world and we've come here to meet some famous egghead who knows all about gases and solids and stuff like that."

Felix glanced around at the white expanse that stretched as far as the eye could see -- which wasn't very far at all, due to the mist. "That's not very likely, is it?" he said.

"Fangs and talons,
stop dithering and get on with it."

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"I'm not dithering, I'm just trying to cover all the possibilities in advance."

"Give it here, and
I'll
do it."

Betony made a lunge for the lamp, and for a moment they tussled with it. The tussle produced enough friction to summon the brandee, and glittery golden gas started to stream out of the spout.

"Greetings," said the brandee, when he was solid once more. "I wondered when you would summon me again. My hostage is becoming impatient."

"I command you to release him," said Felix, with as much authority as he could muster. It was worth a try.

The brandee's teeth flashed white in the gathering gloom. "Not until I meet the scientist you have found for me. You see, I may have to appear when you rub my lamp, but I don't have to obey your command.
Abracadabra.
The word fairly crackles with the most vibrant of magic."

Felix glanced down the mountainside. For just a moment, the low cloud cleared, and he could see a village nestled in a little valley. Here and there a light twinkled, and smoke was curling from some of the chimneys. "He lives down there," he lied. He really couldn't think of anything else to do.

"Let us depart, then," said the brandee. "We'll use your carpet."

Nimby bristled in the way that only a carpet can bristle. Betony nudged Felix. "Try rubbing the lamp again," she whispered, "and maybe it'll summon Rhino."

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Felix ran his fingers over the icy metal, but nothing happened -- except that the brandee noticed and drew his knife. "Mine, I think," he said, snatching back the lamp. "Shall we get going?"

"I fly only for my mistress," said Nimby haughtily.

"In that case," said the brandee, grabbing Betony's arm and twisting it behind her back, "you might be better off without a mistress at all." He placed the point of the dagger against her neck.

Nimby immediately laid himself at the brandee's feet, his fringe curling with distaste. The brandee let go of Betony, and the three of them sat down cross-legged on the carpet, which then took off.

By the time they reached the village, Felix was so cold he was numb, and his fingers were an interesting shade of blue. Betony had bundled herself up so thoroughly in her cloak that only her eyes and nose were visible. The brandee didn't seem to feel the cold at all.

"This is awful," whispered Betony. "What are we going to do?"

"Try to get the lamp back. What else
can
we do?"

"I meant, what are we going to do about producing a
scientist,
not what are we going to do about rescuing your stupid friend Rhino."

"He's
not
my friend."

They landed in the market square, which was deserted.