The Wrong Side of Magic (21 page)

Hudson slid from Nigel's back. “Thanks for taking us.”

Charlotte dismounted from Cecil and gave his neck an affectionate hug. “If all goes well, we'll return in a few hours with Princess Nomira.” She looked from one unicorn to the other. “Will you be able to carry all of us?”

Cecil lowered his head so his eyes met Charlotte's. “Your confidence is your best weapon. Wield it well, but don't let it be wielded against you.”

She stroked Cecil's silver nose. “Was that a yes or a no?”

Cecil and Nigel exchanged a look that indicated they weren't nearly as confident about Hudson and Charlotte's chances as she was. “Should you manage to free the princess,” Cecil said, “we'll gladly carry her.”

Hudson couldn't resist petting Nigel's nose, as well. It felt as soft as a new blanket. “Thanks again.”

“Remember to use your words well,” Nigel said. “Sometimes that's what marks the difference between failure and success.”

“I'll try.” Hudson gave the unicorns a last wave, then headed out with Charlotte.

They hadn't walked far before the sign became legible. It read
WELCOME TO THE LAND OF DESOLATION. THERE ARE NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE THIS PLACE.

Hudson didn't know about that.
Barren
came to mind. So did
empty
,
dead
, and
depressing
.

Charlotte didn't go beyond the sign. She took out her silver bell and called, “We need a fairy to guide us to the Land of Backwords.”

After a few moments, a fairy flickered out from behind one of the bushes. Her hair and dress were tan, making her blend into everything else, but as she flew toward them, the sunlight glimmered off her wings like tiny sparks. She hovered in front of Charlotte and lifted her wand. “To guide you across the desolation, I charge three muselings. Each way.” She smiled and added, “And you'll need to pay in advance for the trip back.”

“Six muselings?” Hudson protested. “It's not that far. We can see the other side from where we're standing.”

“We'll pay.” Charlotte dug through her leather bag.

Hudson let out a grunt and folded his arms. “The river fairy could have turned us into birds so we could fly across for less.”

The sand fairy lifted her chin haughtily. “Six muselings is my price for being your guide. If you want to be a bird, that will be extra.”

“We want to stay human.” Charlotte pulled out her bag of muselings and opened it. “But why do we have to pay in advance for the trip back?”

The fairy hovered in the air, wings fluttering. “That way if you get lost, forget everything, and wander around aimlessly, I still get paid.”

It wasn't the most encouraging thing Hudson had heard.

Charlotte dumped all the muselings into her hand. She only had six left, the price of the trip.

Hudson eyed the green striped one sitting in her palm. It was the memory of the time he'd helped her with algebra. “You can't give her all your muselings.”

Charlotte held them out to the fairy. “We need her assistance.”

The fairy pointed her wand at a blue one, and it lifted from Charlotte's palm, shrinking as it flew to the fairy. She slipped the museling into a purse that seemed to be made of bits of broken glass, then pointed her wand at a spotted purple one and took it, as well. Hudson picked the green striped museling from Charlotte's hand. He would let the fairy take a museling from him instead. “I know what memory this is,” he told Charlotte. “I saw the descriptions while you were drying your stuff out.”

“Oh,” she said, and blushed.

“Why did you decide to change that memory into a museling? Was it because you wanted to forget me?”

“No,” she said softly. “I knew we would make good memories here. And we have—riding unicorns, rowing boats, stealing King Vaygran's sword. That's much better than a walk to school.”

He hadn't thought of that, and it made him feel better. “I still don't want you to lose this one. You can use one of my memories to make a museling.”

Charlotte took the museling from Hudson's hand. “You've already lost a remembrance. I don't want you to lose anything else.” She held the museling out to the fairy. “Besides, now I have the memory of your offer, and that's even nicer.”

The fairy flicked her wand, and the green striped museling floated toward her. She snatched it out of the air and turned it over in her hand. “This must be a really good one.” She popped it into her mouth and immediately glowed like a night-light with wings. Tilting her head, she grinned at him and Charlotte. “Ah, how sweet. The two of you are so cute.”

Great. Wonderful. She was eating a memory about him and calling him cute.

The fairy hummed as she took the rest of muselings, then said, “I'm ready to go when you are.” Her wings caught the sun's light and held on to it, making them two small beacons.

Charlotte took hold of Hudson's arm to get his attention. She'd given him instructions about crossing the Land of Desolation while they'd ridden here, but she repeated them now anyway. “Keep telling yourself that you're following the fairy. Don't look at anything else. Follow her light. Say it over and over again.”

“I know,” he said.

Charlotte dropped his arm. “We're ready.”

The fairy headed out into the desert, and they both followed after her with long, quick steps.

“I still think it would be faster to go as birds,” he said.

“Magic in this part of the land is a peculiar thing. If we lose our way as birds, we might forget altogether that we're humans.”

With that happy thought, they walked into the Land of Desolation.

It reminded him of stepping into the sea. Not because it was wet or cold. Without the shade of the trees, everything felt hot and dry. But this place had the same undercurrent, the same feeling of being pulled into something deep and powerful.

The fairy bobbed ahead of them, her light glowing like a flare.

He needed to follow her light. It wasn't that far. Only two miles. He could walk that in half an hour, easy. It would be over soon. It would …

Hudson couldn't have said when the words disappeared from his mind. Everything was just gone. Empty. He was doing something important, he remembered that much. And he knew in some corner of his mind that he needed to follow the light in front of him, but he couldn't remember why.

He didn't recognize this place, couldn't recall whether he had ever known it. A friend walked next to him. Although he didn't know why either of them was here. They had been doing something. He had memories of them being together before this, and yet none of it made sense. They seemed like scenes in a movie that had been randomly thrown together.

The longer he walked, the blurrier and more uncertain his mind got.

Maybe he should stop. A light glowed in front of him. He had a feeling it was important. He walked toward it. As quickly as he followed it, it sped onward. He couldn't catch up. Frustrating.

Maybe he should go back the way he came. It was hot here, and things felt funny.

The light bobbed ahead of him.

The light. He needed to follow it.

The farther he walked, the more fragmented he felt, like something was slicing up his mind, taking parts of it away. He couldn't make sense of what was happening. He could only see, not think.

This wasn't a good place.

Should go somewhere else.

Maybe another direction.

But

Light.

Light.

Light.

And then, as though he'd pushed through a searing fog, everything came back to him. Thoughts poured into his mind until he brimmed with memories, words, sense, and order.

He had been walking through the Land of Desolation with Charlotte, and they must have reached the other side, because he could think again. “We made it,” he breathed out.

Charlotte put a shaking hand to her chest. “That was horrible. It felt like my mind was ripped away.”

Now that they had passed through the Land of Desolation, even the air felt different—fuller somehow, not as parched. The forest of pale white trees spread out in front of them, their leaves rustling like pages of books. The fairy, without bothering to say good-bye, disappeared somewhere into the air.

A large dotted line ran across the ground in front of a sign that read
WELCOME TO THE LAND OF BACKWORDS.

In smaller lettering underneath this sentence was the phrase
BACKWORDS OF LAND THE TO WELCOME.

And underneath it, in smaller lettering still:
EMOCLEW OT EHT DNAL FO SDROWKCAB

More phrases were written under these three, so small that Hudson couldn't read them. Apparently there were a lot of ways to be backward.

He and Charlotte crossed the line. Some of the trees in the forest were shaped like pine trees and had pointy tops. They looked like someone had made them out of book covers that had been turned upside down—or more likely backward—and stacked on top of each other.

A sign on the path ahead of them read
WATCH WHAT YOU SAY.

He looked at Charlotte for explanation.

“I should warn you,” she said, “things are sort of odd here.”

Right away, he saw what she meant. He didn't just hear her words. He saw them, too. They sprang from her mouth in a stream of pale yellow letters that fell to the ground, lying in a tangled heap.
Here
had slid off the pile to the ground, leaving
odd
on top.

“You can say that again,” he muttered, and light green words tumbled from his mouth. “Except don't say it again, because we've already made a big enough mess.”

Mess
spun to the ground dramatically. He couldn't stop staring at it.

“Wow,” Hudson said. The single word popped out of his mouth in puffy white letters that reminded him of marshmallows. His
wow
bounced when it hit the ground and tumbled over so it read
mom
.

He wondered what his mom would think of this place. If she were here, she would probably only let him say nice, safe words. And definitely no back talk in the Land of Backwords.

Charlotte consulted her compass, then headed down a fork in the path. “The poor princess,” she said, hardly noticing the trail of words plunking to the ground at her feet. “Kept in a tower alone in a colorless place like this. No wonder her tree droops.”

The place wasn't really colorless. Underneath the white trees, bushes and flowers painted the ground in bits of color: vibrant reds, rich greens, and cheerful yellows. Orange bees shaped in the letter
B
bobbed among the blossoms, gathering pollen.

While Hudson had been gazing around, Charlotte had gotten ahead of him. “Are we going to spill words the whole time we're here?” he called to her. It was a mistake to speak loudly. The words came out bigger, and
here
landed on his foot.

“Ouch!” he yelped, which only made it worse. He had to step out of the way so the bright red
ouch
didn't land on his other foot.

He ran the rest of the way to catch up to Charlotte. “Hey, shouldn't we hide our words? What if the soldiers come and see them?”

Charlotte kept walking. “Words only stay permanent if you write them down. Otherwise, they only last for as long as you remember them, and that's usually just a few seconds. Besides, even if King Vaygran knew where we'd gone, I doubt he'd send a large group of soldiers across the Land of Desolation to chase us. Magic was sucked out of the land when the words were taken. Most spells won't work there. He'd end up losing half his men.”

“Couldn't they pay the fairy the way we did?”

“Fairies don't reveal themselves to big groups. Too many people to keep track of. They're afraid someone will try to catch them.”

The path turned, and Hudson caught sight of a gray tower peeking over the treetops. It didn't look that far away. Maybe a few miles.

Birds flew overhead, but they weren't the type of birds Hudson had seen before. They looked like novels, flapping their pages as they flew across the sky. A few birds were pecking at the ground in front of them. Their heads looked like bookmarks sticking out of closed books. As Hudson and Charlotte came closer, the birds flew off in an angry ruffle of pages and showered them with indignant
caws
. The words dropped to the path and shattered.

Hudson put his hand over his head. “I think they were aiming for us. What's their problem?”

“Don't mind the birds here,” she said. “They're just upset because they're looking for bookworms, and those are getting harder and harder to find.”

He and Charlotte kept walking down the path, eating lunch from their packs, and talking as they went. If he spoke with a lilt to his voice, the words swayed to the ground like leaves in a breeze. If he sang them, they floated upward and popped. Loud words came out heavily, and sharp words nearly cut his tongue when he said them.

Along the path, signs popped up as though they were wildflowers. Some had direction arrows.
THIS WAY TO THE BACKWOODS. THIS WAY TO THE OUTBACK. THIS WAY TO THE BACKGROUND.

One read
HAPPINESS IS AS CLOSE AS YOUR BACKYARD.

Another said
BACKFIRES PROHIBITED BY THE FIRE MARSHAL.

Hudson didn't know whether to be glad or not that the sign actually made sense to him.

When he came to one that said
DO NOT FEED THE THESAURUS,
it made him glance around cautiously.

Another sign read
SLOW, WORDS AT PLAY.
It made him smile. He supposed all of this was wordplay, and he wished he was faster at it.

When they finally got closer to the tower, Charlotte pulled the eagle and the falcon from her bag and brought them to life. “Go see if anything is guarding the tower.”