Snap (17 page)

“Like a prophet?” Pia asked, pulling the Ferdinand and Dapple book out of her bag. Danya knew from reading the book so many times that hero's task number twelve was
Speak to a prophet
. When she'd first read the book, she'd had to ask her mom what that word meant because she'd never heard it before.

“Ah . . .” Madame Angelica said, batting her long, dark eyelashes. “It seems you've been expecting me. Well, then, I suppose I could reveal a little of your futures. Just a taste, okay?”

“Really?” Pia shot Danya an eager look, and even Danya couldn't help feeling a tiny thrill of excitement. She knew tarot cards were fake, but she'd never had her future read by a professional fortune-teller before.

“Sure,” Madame Angelica said. She fanned the cards out so the beautiful pictures were facedown and all Danya could see was the scrolling black-and-gold design on the back. “Pick a card—just one!—and I'll tell you what it means.”

Up to the challenge, Sancho sat straight up and began nibbling at a card on the end.

“Sancho!” Danya warned, but Madame Angelica just laughed and flipped the card over.

“Don't worry,” she said, showing the card to Danya. A huge, golden cup covered the card, filled with silver water. “This is the ace of cups, a wonderful card. It means he is loved.”

Sancho grinned, swishing his tail, and Danya tickled him beneath the chin. Next, Pia inched up in her seat, pulling off one of her alligator gloves. Madame Angelica told her to think of a question, and Pia nodded. She wiggled her fingers over the cards—then snatched one half-hidden by the fortune-teller's thumb. Smiling, she flipped it over.

The card depicted a knight sitting atop a white horse. The knight wore a golden mask that looked like a skull, and he carried a black flag. There was a single word written below him:
DEATH
.

Pia's face went pale, and the smile slipped from her lips. “I'm going to die?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“Pia, no,” Danya insisted, even as nerves pricked at the back of her neck. She forced herself to look away from the creepy death card. “This isn't real—it's just a game!”

Madame Angelica laughed and took the card from Pia's frozen hands. “Oh, the death card.” She shook her head. “This might be the most misunderstood card in my entire deck. No one's going to die, child. The death card indicates a passing, yes, but not necessarily of a life. Think of it as a passing of an event.”

Madame Angelica blinked and studied Pia's face for a long moment. Finally, she nodded.

“Something has happened to you, my dear,” she said. “Something huge. It feels like everything has changed.”

“Wait, what? Nothing in Pi—I mean Priss—I mean
Polly's
life is changing,” Danya said, hoping Madame Angelica didn't notice how badly she'd stumbled over the name. But even as the words were leaving her lips, she felt a tug in the back of her head. That wasn't entirely true, was it? Danya had noticed the signs, even if she hadn't wanted to believe them. Pia had been secretive lately. For the first time in their lives, there'd been things Pia kept from her, things Danya didn't know. Pia shot a guilty look at Danya, then looked back to the fortune-teller—nodding silently.

Madame Angelica smiled and reached forward, giving Pia's hand a squeeze.

“Have hope, my child! The passing of one thing does not mean the passing of all things. Give this time, and things will get better. You will see.”

Danya shifted in her seat, not quite sure what to say. She thought of how odd Pia had been acting during this trip, how she'd been weirdly happy some moments and strangely sad at others. Something was going on with her best friend, and she didn't know what it was.

Danya pulled at a loose thread in her snake costume. There'd been a time when she'd wondered if she and Pia were really just two halves of the same girl: Pia was the adventurous, athletic, and loud side, and Danya the cautious, smart, and thoughtful one. But now Danya looked at her best friend and saw an entirely different person. Someone she wasn't even sure if she really knew.

As Madame Angelica began shuffling her deck again, Danya tried to catch her cousin's eye. But Pia kept her head bowed, staring at her own hands, which were clenched in her lap.

“And now you, my dear,” Madame Angelica said.

Danya held her breath and pulled off one snake glove, letting her fingers hover above the cards. She still didn't believe in this stuff, she told herself. But now she wasn't so sure. Pia's reading had seemed pretty accurate.

“Before you choose,” Madame Angelica said, “I want you to think,
hard
,
about the question for which you seek an answer.”

Danya nodded. She closed her eyes and thought about Sancho, about her grandmother, about her parents' money troubles and her hero's quest to save the day. As she lowered her hand to the deck of cards, she let one question fill her head.

Will I get what I came for? Will I find a way to save Sancho?

Her fingers settled onto a card. Opening her eyes, she slid the card out of the deck and flipped it over.

It was a picture of a young boy wearing a red tunic and a green, feathered cap. The boy held a golden circle with a picture of a star inside it. The card was upside down and Danya started to turn it over, but Madame Angelica stopped her, placing one wrinkled hand over her own.

“Oh no, you must leave it as it is,” the fortune-teller said. “The position of the card is almost as important as the card itself. It all tells me something about how your future will unfold.”

She took the card from Danya and stared down at it with narrowed eyes. For a moment the old woman was quiet.

“I see,” she said finally. “This is the page of pentacles. You are seeking fortune, no? You are on a long journey?”

Danya's heart leapt into her chest. She nodded.

“This card tells me you feel guilt. Blame. It's standing in the way of your success, preventing you from seeing the fortunes you already have.”

Fear and nerves pierced Danya's chest like a hot knife. She swallowed hard as the image of fire in the sky and air thick with smoke filled her memory. She heard Jupiña's scared whinnies, felt Sancho's neck grow cold with fear beneath her hands as they raced toward the stables.

“What are you talking about?” she asked in a small voice.

Madame Angelica smiled, shaking her head. Her frizzy blond hair puffed up around her face. “You are blaming yourself for something. But the fates say you must let this go. Whatever it was, it was not your fault. In order to get the fortune you seek, you must forgive yourself.”

Danya's eyes burned, and she had to look quickly away. Forgive herself? For what she did? The fortune-teller was wrong. That would be impossible.

“Child,” Madame Angelica continued. She leaned forward, taking Danya's hand. “We all think we know what we need from this life, but only time can show us whether or not we are correct. This is a good card—it tells me you are brave and pure of heart. You will be successful, ultimately. But you must look to yourself. Find your inner strength to deal with the hand you've been dealt.”

Madame Angelica smiled and slipped the card back into the deck.” Good luck to you both, you great adventurers. The road ahead will be dangerous, treacherous, and very possibly terrifying.” She winked. “But a true hero's path is never easy.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Mud, Rain, and Tears

A
s the bus
bumped along, the sky outside Danya's window grew darker. Madame Angelica was taking a nap now, and most of the other performers on the bus were sleeping as well. Danya wished she could sleep, but her mind was moving too fast. Finally, she pulled out her notebook and her lucky purple gel pen. On the very last page, she jotted down a line for each day she'd been away from home. There was one for the night they crept onto Turtle's truck, one more for the night they spent at Graceland, and a third on the cruise ship. . . .

Three whole days away from home. Danya felt suddenly light-headed as she looked down at her wobbly pen marks. That meant today was Wednesday. She had one more day to reach her grandmother and get the money for Sancho. She capped her pen and tapped it against her leg, thinking. What would happen if the bald man showed up at her house and Sancho wasn't there? Would her dad get in trouble? They had a contract, Danya knew, and her dad had already spent the money the man gave him paying for the mortgage. Could her dad go to jail if she didn't get home in time?

Danya shook her head, trying to force that horrible thought away. Sighing, she reached down to scratch Sancho's head, worried he might be uncomfortable, but he was fast asleep, too. The hair hanging over his nose fluttered as he snored.

Outside, thunder rumbled and the clouds broke open. Rain poured down. It slapped against the ground and the side of the bus and tapped on Danya's window like an old friend. She sighed and leaned against the window, watching the lines of water trail down the glass. Pia wasn't sleeping, either, but they hadn't spoken since they'd gotten their fortunes told. Danya hadn't been able to think of a thing to say. Every time she opened her mouth, the only thing that came to her mind was . . .

In order to get the fortune you seek, you must forgive yourself.

She clenched her eyes shut and pressed her forehead against the rain-cooled glass, trying not to think about it.

Before long, the bus pulled off of the well-lit highway and traveled down a dark, muddy road. For the first time since picking a card from Madame Angelica's deck, Pia glanced up.

“Where do you think they're taking us?”

Danya shrugged. “Wherever it is, it looks muddy.”

The bus slowly wound its way down the muddy road, which was longer and darker than Danya thought possible. Finally, it slowed to a stop, and the engine sputtered off. The door screeched open, and flashlights flicked on as the performers began to file outside.

A shadow with big, bushy hair made its way to the back of the bus. Once it was standing in front of Pia and Danya, a light flicked on, illuminating Penn's face.

“Hey there, reptiles,” she said, holding the flashlight under her chin. “We're all heading out to put up our tents. Think you two can handle this one? We're just going to the clearing up ahead. You can't miss it.”

She handed Pia a blue canvas and a bundle of metal poles. Danya assumed those things came together to form some sort of tent-like structure, though she had no real idea how.

“We're supposed to do this in the rain?” Pia asked.

“And in the dark. The dark rain.” Danya poked at the pile of tent, half hoping it would leap from Pia's arms and build itself.

“Oh, this is for you, too,” Penn added, motioning to the flashlight. “When you get off the bus, just turn left and follow the dirt path for about a hundred feet. Do you think you'll need help?”

Danya was just opening her mouth to say yes, of course they needed help, when Pia interrupted her.

“Nah,” she said. “Looks easy.”

“Cool.” Penn flicked off the flashlight and tossed it to Danya before scurrying back out into the dark.

“I could have used help,” Danya said under her breath. Pia didn't seem to hear her.

“I guess we should—” Before she could finish her sentence, Pia was interrupted by a crack of thunder so loud it shook the bus. Sancho woke with a start, snorting as he struggled to his feet.

“—go?” she finished. Danya glanced out the window and shivered.

By the time the two girls and Sancho negotiated their bodies (and tails) out of the bus, there was a small circle of tents set up amid the trees. Flashlights blinked on and off behind the canvas walls.

“Looks like we're on our own,” Danya said. Sancho whinnied and nudged her forward with his nose.

Together the girls dragged themselves through the mud (Danya lost one scaly foot and her left, clawed glove) and found a dampish, flattish area of land beneath a dripping tree.

Pia dropped the tent onto the ground, and the girls knelt next to it. Danya picked up two poles and tried to get them to stand in the mud. Sancho held them steady with his nose, and for a moment, they kind of seemed like they would balance . . . but then a particularly large raindrop fell from the sky and knocked them over. Sancho scurried out of their way, his hooves making hollow plomping sounds in the mud.

“There are these short, kind of pointy stick things,” Pia said, holding up a wooden stake. “I think we're supposed to, like, tie them to the poles using the edges of the tent.”

“That makes sense,” Danya said.

The girls worked together in silence trying to ignore the rain that plastered their hair to their foreheads, and dripped down the backs of their costumes, and the way their scaly legs sank low into the mud, so they had to stop every few minutes to yank them out. Even Sancho looked miserable. He tried to help by holding the flashlight in his mouth, but mud stuck to his mane and tail and hooves, making it hard for him to move.

Danya kept thinking about her and Pia's secret fort back home, with its twinkly Christmas lights and stacks and stacks of books lining the walls. But the muddy, wet tent was nothing like her hideout, and thinking about how cozy and warm she'd be if she were home right now just depressed her.

“At least we don't have to worry about anyone recognizing us,” she muttered under her breath. In the dark, rainy night, not a single person alive would've been able to tell that Pia and Danya were the girls from
Runaway Watch
. That thought made Danya feel a little better . . . until another crack of thunder burst through the sky, making her jump.

Finally, after over an hour of tying and pounding and yanking and balancing, the pile of canvas and poles had taken on a tent-like shape. The girls stood back to survey their handiwork.

“It's done it's done it's done!” Pia said, her teeth clattering together in the cold. She waved her arms in the air and did a funny alligator dance that involved tapping her feet, wiggling her shoulders, and spinning in a circle. Sancho tried to dance, too, but he couldn't really move his legs, so it just looked like he was wiggling his bottom.

“Finally!” Danya said. “It's
freezing
!”

A clap of thunder sounded, and Sancho whinnied, rearing back. “Easy, buddy,” Danya said, grabbing his reins. Pia kept dancing. She added a new move where she clapped while doing a leaping spin.

“Wait!” Danya said as Pia spun to perform the move again. Her long, scaly alligator tail swept into the tent, knocking the canvas and poles back into the mud.

For a long moment Danya couldn't move. She stared, frozen, at the ruined tent as water dripped down the back of her costume and thunder rumbled in the distance. Sancho whickered under his breath, pawing at the mud sadly.

“Whoops . . .” Pia said, quickly moving to pick up the muddy pile of canvas and poles. “I can fix this. . . .”

Danya shook her head. She couldn't remember a time she'd been more wet or cold or miserable. Pia shuffled over to Danya, her tail making slapping noises as she dragged it through the mud.

“I can fix this,” she said again. “It'll be up in no time. And don't make that face, Snap. We'll just have to make the best of things until I—”

“Make the best of things?” Danya's voice was louder than usual and squeaky, like she might break into tears at any moment. “How are we supposed to make the best of things? Things are awful!”

“Danya . . .” Pia frowned. “Look, I know I messed up, but yelling at me isn't going to help. . . .”

“Maybe I don't
want
to help,” Danya yelled. “You think it's easy cleaning up your messes all the time? While you're running around causing trouble and breaking everything you touch, someone has to be responsible. This was supposed to be about saving Sancho, but all I've been doing this entire trip is rescuing
you
.”

“Maybe you don't remember,” Pia said, her words short. “But this whole trip was
your
stupid idea. I wouldn't even be here if—”

“If
what
?” Danya interrupted. Anger clawed at her chest and her heart thudded. “You said you wanted to help me, Pia. If you hate all of this so much, why did you come at all?”

“Because I couldn't stay at home!” Pia snapped. She was crying now, and her words were interrupted by hiccups that shook her skinny shoulders. “My parents are getting divorced, Danya. That's why they sent me to stay with you and your family.”

Danya opened her mouth, then closed it again, not sure what to say. “Pia, I didn't . . .”

“My dad isn't just visiting his sister,” Pia continued. “He's living there because he and my mom can't even be in the same room together anymore. They've spent so much time fighting and yelling they barely even notice I'm there.”

Danya swallowed. Her mouth was suddenly dry. She thought back on the last few days. How Tía Carla was crying. How Pia told the woman at the edge of the river that her parents didn't care about her. How insistent she was that they run away. How happy she'd been since they'd been gone.

How had Danya never noticed that things had been so bad when they left? How had she missed something so big?

Pia let out another hiccup. “You remember how Petey offered us that job at Gatorville?” she said, sniffing, and Danya nodded. “I really wanted to take it, Danya. There's no reason for me to go home, and I'm good with the alligators. Maybe . . . maybe things would be better if I really did run away. For real.”

“Pia, no!” Danya didn't know what to say. It was like a low ringing started in her ears, making everything around her seem far away. “Pia, you can't.”

“Why not, Danya? You don't need me for this stupid adventure. I might as well go back. At least there would be a place for me there,” Pia said.

“There's a place for you
here
, Pia. With me. Who's going to make a pillow fortress with me when I'm sick? Or sleep next to me after my dad has told a scary story? You're my best friend, no matter what happens with your parents.”

“You really mean that?” Pia sniffed.

“Of course!” Danya insisted. “You're like a sister to me, Pia. I could never have made it this far without you. I
need
you, Pia. Every day.”

Pia hiccupped again and Danya waddled over to her, ignoring the way her tail stuck in the mud. She wrapped her arms around her cousin as Pia hiccuped and sniffled and tried to keep herself from crying. Sancho nudged his nose between them, wanting to be part of the hug, too.

The girls and Sancho stood like that for a long time, even as the rain poured around them and thunder rumbled in the distance.