by Carrie Jones
“I just … I feel … sort of betrayed, you know?”
“And hurt?” he suggested.
“Definitely hurt,” she answered, sighing. “I just think they should have told me. Someone should have told me that I had living grandparents, and maybe they should have looked for me.”
“I’m pretty sure everyone thought you were dead.”
“I might as well have been,” Annie admitted. “I know it’s silly, but I just feel like Miss Cornelia or Gramma Doris or someone should have told me the moment I got to Aurora.”
“Maybe they wanted to … but …” Jamie motioned to the air. “Things got pretty wild, pretty quick, with the Raiff and stuff. Maybe they just didn’t have time.”
“Maybe I just wasn’t important enough for them to actually tell me.”
“I don’t think it’s about you being important. You’re super important, Annie. You’re a Stopper. I think …” He searched for words. “I think that maybe it had more to do with the grandparent information not being number one on the list of vital things to deal with.”
“Like right now. It’s still not.” Annie raked her fingers through her hair, combing it. “Like right now, the most necessary thing is saving the elves and Miss Cornelia.”
He half shrugged. “Kind of … It’s not that your feelings don’t matter, though.”
“My feelings can wait,” Annie announced stoically, working out a knot near the ends of her hairs.
He began to say something, but right then the gate agent spoke into her little microphone and said to prepare to board. Poor Bloom’s face whitened, and he swayed so much when he stood that SalGoud had to solid him up.
“You’re much more likely to die in a car crash than in a plane crash,” SalGoud began. “Would you like the statistics?”
“No.” Bloom took one baby step toward the boarding door.
“The probabilities involved may comfort you. They comfort me,” SalGoud continued.
“Really, I’m okay.”
“Stop wussing out!” Eva shoved Bloom forward, smashing her two hands right above his butt and propelling him toward the gate agent. “This is for your people, to save your people. Elf up, man. Elf up.”
And with those words, Bloom strode forward, handed the gate agent his ticket, and for the very first time, boarded an airplane.
Bloom inhaled deeply and pulled out the magazine from the seat-back in front of him. “I’m nervous about the flight. Okay? I’ve never been on a plane before, and it is so detached from all the elements—the natural elements.”
“Not wind,” Jamie suggested. “We are in the wind. Think of it like riding Grady O’Grady.”
Bloom’s face lightened. “Good point, brilliant one.”
Jamie smiled, and after that Bloom was much happier. Jamie opened the plastic bags that contained tiny navy blue blankets to keep them warm, and the flight attendant passed out pillows. By the time they lifted into the air, Bloom was practically yelling “yee-haw” because he was so excited.
“Look out the windows!” he said, pointing to the side row of seats. “Isn’t the sky beautiful? Oh, we’re in a cloud. Oh, that cloud looks like a dragon. Oh! We’re above it. There is the moon.”
Eva began hyperventilating into the airsickness bag that she’d pulled out of the seat-back compartment in front of her.
SalGoud threw his hands up into the air, hitting his knuckles on the bottom of the overhead luggage compartment. “If it isn’t the elf, it’s the dwarf. Honestly.”
“Eva,” Annie whispered, petting the dwarf’s arm. “You have this. You are a dwarf. You are strong. You roar and you have an ax.”
Eva pulled her nose and mouth out of the bag long enough to sputter, “My ax is in the luggage.”
“That wasn’t the point. You don’t need the ax, Eva. You are strong all by yourself.”
“How about we cancel all the New Age, I-eat-organic-foods garbage and just focus on the fact that we are in a steel can thundering through the air without any magic to keep it going and we are all going to die,” Eva grumbled.
“You do know they have movies on here,” Jamie said from the other side of Eva. “There is one with ancient Greeks and they have axes.”
Eva dropped the airsickness bag onto the floor without a second thought. “Where?”
The plane ride lasted hours and hours. The sun set and rose again. Eva spent the entire time eating bags of pretzels and biscotti while watching violent movies during which she would criticize the fighting techniques.
“That’s not an effective way to get out of a choke hold,” she would mutter, or, “That round kick is so easy to counter. Look, the Spartan monster troll left his entire left side unprotected.”
Jamie noticed that Annie had brought a book about demons and was focusing on that. Her hands would clench every once in a while. It took everything he had not to unclench her fingers for her, to just reach over there and try to pry them open. Annie looked a mess and he was worried for her.
SalGoud was watching some sort of history channel, and Bloom seemed just as bored as Jamie for most of the flight, fidgeting occasionally, attempting to take a nap and failing.
“In the world of elves, which ones are the best looking? The epic fantasy movie–kind or you?” Jamie asked Bloom, who just stared at him.
“Don’t ask him that,” Eva grumped. “He’ll start going off about how they make vampires sparkly now in movies.”
Mimicking Bloom’s voice, Eva and SalGoud said simultaneously, “Vampires are not attractive. Elves are sparkly.”
Bloom pulled the little navy blue blanket around his legs again and closed his eyes, ignoring them all. Not long after that the flight attendants collected all the garbage, getting ready for landing.
“I’m sorry … Sorry I asked. I didn’t realize they’d make fun of you,” Jamie said as soon as Bloom sat up straight again.
Bloom looked at him vacantly for a moment and said, “It’s okay. They—tensions are high right now. We are all nervous. I mean, look at Annie.”
Annie was twisting her hands again.
“I’m okay,” she announced and then lost all her confidence. “Really. I swear.”
Eva pointed at her hands. Annie abruptly stopped twisting them and sat on them instead.
“There’s just a lot—there’s a lot at stake,” Annie said finally. “Demons—demons are hard to deal with, to defeat. And … my grandparents …”
She lost her thought.
“You’re afraid they ain’t going to like you,” Eva said.
“Aren’t going to like you,” SalGoud corrected as he continued to play solitaire on the same screen that showed movies. It was built into the back of the seat.
“Sort of,” Annie admitted.
“People don’t like me all the time. Whatever. No big,” Eva bragged. “You should take it as a mark of having a larger-than-life personality. A personality that makes people go ‘Wow’ or ‘Uck’ is better than one that makes people do nothing at all. Plus, they are trolls if they don’t like you. You are very likable. Everybody likes you.”
“Not Megan,” Annie answered.
“That hag does not count. She’s got jealousy issues. Ain’t that what you said, SalGoud?” Eva nudged him as he put a queen of spades on top of a king of hearts.
“Isn’t. ‘Isn’t,’ Eva. ‘Ain’t’ is not a word.” SalGoud kept playing and didn’t actually answer Eva’s question.
“What. Ever.” Eva harrumphed.
The pilot said to prepare for landing, to put their seat-backs in an upright position, and then after hours in a plane they were suddenly there—in Ireland. The plane skidded to a stop on a runway surrounded by other runways in an airport that was much bigger than the one they had used in Maine.
“All that green,” Bloom whispered, leaning forward so that he could stare out the window. “All that beautiful green, even in winter.”
“And the elf collapses in joy,” Eva deadpanned.
Annie petted his
arm. “It’s lovely.”
“It is, isn’t it? How does it feel to you, Annie?” Bloom asked. “Does it feel good?”
“It almost feels like home,” Annie answered. “Like the whole country is magical, the way Aurora is.”
Bloom perked up. “Exactly! That’s the way it feels to me, too.”
Eva made a fake puking noise and that was it. They were there. In Ireland. Now all they had to do was find a bow and arrow and save the day.
They made it through the customs officials’ gate check where their passports were scrutinized and they were asked the reason for their stay (their official answer was “tourism”), gathered up their luggage, and stood in the entryway of the airport right near where the taxis were queued up to collect passengers.
Annie wanted to enjoy all the hustle and bustle of the airport, all the people and excitement of travel, but she was so worried about failing. They all stood there for a moment, clustered together as adults and families bebopped around them, hurrying to cars, buses, and taxis, ready to get on with their day. But Annie’s group remained motionless until Jamie stepped one foot off the curb.
A bright pink car screeched to a halt, barely missing him as Jamie leaped out of the way at the very last second. He landed on his feet, but toppled over onto his side. He ached from the impact of landing, but he was perfectly fine.
“Jamie!” Annie was already on the ground, grabbing him and checking for injuries.
“I’m fine, Annie,” he tried to say, but a loud, male voice was hollering over his.
“What kind of fool are ya, to jump out in the middle of the road like that? I was like to splatter your guts next way to Sunday,” the fellow roared. He was small, very small, and stocky. He had a long red beard and tufts of hair sticking out at odd angles all around his head.
Eva stomped up and yelled right in his face. She was only an inch shorter, which was rather remarkable. “Well, maybe you should watch where you’re going, troll breath!”
“Who ye calling troll breath?” he bellowed back.
An Enterprise Rent-a-Car van honked its horn and swerved to avoid smashing into the … into the … Jamie gasped, finally getting a good look at the car—was it a car?—that almost hit him.
It was bright pink and fuzzy—not furry, but fuzzy—and there was a pig snout covering the front grill. There were eyelashes around the headlights, and two gigantic wing-shaped ears sprouting from the roof.
“Jamie?” Bloom had come to his side.
“Did I hit my head?” Jamie asked.
Annie and Bloom exchanged a glance, and Annie answered for both of them, “Not that we saw.”
“So that’s …” Jamie gestured toward the pink vehicle, “that’s really a pig car.”
“It appears it is,” SalGoud said as Eva head-butted the driver. The driver head-butted her back. Then they fist-bumped.
“I was almost killed by a pig car.” Jamie got back to his feet with Annie’s arm supporting him around the waist, and he added, “In Ireland. I was almost killed by a pig car in Ireland.”
“Because you didn’t look both ways before crossing!” SalGoud emphasized as a Hertz Car Rental van honked at them. It was the fourth van to honk.
Annie gestured to where Eva stood with the pig car’s driver. “Eva? Are you okay?”
“Why the heck wouldn’t I be?” Eva bellowed back, still in the middle of the road. Another Enterprise Rent-a-Car van swerved around her.
“Well, you’re head-butting the dwarf who just almost squashed Jamie,” Bloom said impatiently.
“That’s how dwarfs greet each other,” the young driver said, coming toward them, bowing his head toward Annie. Just the look of his massive forehead gave her a headache.
“Oh … oh …,” she said, backing up into SalGoud who steadied her, “no thank you.” She waved her hands in front of her. “Not a dwarf. Sensitive head.”
“Humans do have wimpy skeletal systems.” He reached out a hand for Annie to shake, then seemed to think better of it and bowed at his ample waist, waving his hand in a flourishing circle as he bent. “Johann Murray-Broadsword of the Doolin Broadswords at your service, young Stopper. It is my honor to be your driver on your first expedition to Ireland and to be a part of your astonishing adventure.”
Annie gasped and turned on Eva, but not before Bloom lashed out. “Eva! Did you tell him our mission? You know …” His face reddened. “You know that adults can’t know … If the Raiff senses that—”
Eva threw up her hands. “Take a chill pill, elf.”
“Elves are so jumping to conclusions, aren’t they?” Johann gave Bloom a derisive glare. “I am only fifteen.”
The silence was awkward.
“We age quickly over here. It’s the Guinness beer.”
Annie’s mouth may have dropped open, which sent Johann into fits of laughter. Bloom’s anger seemed to only grow, and he pulled Eva aside.
“How do you know he can be trusted, Eva?” he demanded.
Eva bristled and she whispered, “All dwarfs are to be trusted, elf. Don’t insult my brethren.”
“Eva, no entire species is ever all good or all bad.” Bloom threw his hands up in the air, giving in. “It’s too late now, anyway. We’ll just have to hope he can keep a secret.”
“Dwarfs always keep secrets,” Eva insisted as Bloom walked back to the group.
“You’re doing it again,” he tossed back over his shoulder, not even bothering to turn around and make eye contact, which meant he missed Eva sticking her tongue out at him.
Jamie didn’t miss it, though. He didn’t miss much anymore. The adventure had fine-tuned his senses—that, along with an elevated heart rate and being in constant mortal peril, seemed to heighten his awareness of everyone else’s moods and actions. He wasn’t actually sure that this was always a good thing.
“Let’s get going; that is, unless the black-haired boy wants to keep trying to die via car and the elf wants to glower around and be all moody because his hair isn’t perfect or something.” Johann laughed at his own joke and Eva punched him in the arm in appreciation and he punched her back.
Jamie decided to make a mental list about dwarfs, and the first item was: Dwarfs can be mean sometimes. They can be bullies. And obnoxious.
Johann opened the back door with a flourish and smiled. “After you, Jamie. I’m sorry that I almost smashed you into the next county.”
“Thank you,” Jamie said, climbing in and instantly adding to his list: Sometimes, dwarfs can have manners and be nice.
Dwarfs, he decided, were just about as confusing as elves, but he settled into the posh seat as the dwarfs threw the luggage in the back of the vehicle. The seats were covered in furry pink upholstery with zigzag stripes on the actual seat cushions and stuffed pig heads for the headrests. Next to the heads were tiny upholstered hooves that rested on SalGoud’s shoulders the moment he sat back.
“I feel as if the pig is embracing me,” he said awkwardly, grabbing his pink seat belt and strapping in.
“I know! Isn’t it the greatest! Dwarf ingenuity at its finest if I do say so myself,” said Johann Murray-Broadsword. “Well, come on. Everyone in. We’re blocking traffic, and if another rental van carting tourists around honks at us, I may lose my cool and show them the sharp edge of my sword.”
Even the steering wheel, which was on the right-hand side instead of the left like in the United States, was covered in pink fuzziness.
“Wow,” Annie whispered as she got in the car. “This is … This is …”
“Pink,” Bloom suggested.
“Furry?” said Jamie.
“Piglike?” SalGoud sighed.
“Awesome!” Eva shouted, taking the shotgun seat next to Johann. “Completely and totally awesome.”
She held out her hand for a fist bump. Johann bumped it. A car tooted at them to get moving. Johann coughed and turned the engine back on, and the pig made a snorting, roaring noise and they were off, heading through Ireland in search of a mag
ic bow while riding in a car that was outfitted like a pig.
Annie’s life was decidedly weird.
“Did you—um—did you ‘trick out’ this car by yourself?” she asked.
“Why, yes, I did,” Johann said proudly, swerving onto a roundabout so erratically that Annie’s eyes shut themselves as if they—not she—were too afraid to watch.
They drove straight out of the airport toward Dublin, and immediately it looked so different from Maine. Despite the fact that it was winter, snow didn’t heavy down the scarce trees or cover the hills. There were cows pretty much everywhere in fields beside the highway. All the highway signs were blue instead of green and had the words written in Gaelic and English, which SalGoud thought was the best thing ever.
“It’s so close to the language of the stone giants,” he kept exclaiming.
Johann complained about the cold, saying that it was only forty-five degrees out. That was a full twelve degrees more than it had been in Maine, and to Annie it almost felt balmy.
There was a wee bit of confusion because Johann insisted that they needed to go to Dublin first to pick up a few supplies that were essential to their mission, or as he said, “procure some provisions,” which sounded much fancier, especially in his Irish accent.
Dublin wasn’t as crazy busy as Annie expected, but she liked all the brick houses with their colorful painted doors, the cobblestones that made so many of the narrow streets, and the pubs and taverns that seemed to be everywhere.
“It’s a gray day, it is,” Johann apologized as he parked the pig car in a spot near a narrow calm river.
“It’s lovely,” Annie said and she meant it.
They all scrambled out of the car and stretched their legs. A man pedaling his bike shouted, “Brilliant car.”
Johann gave him a happy wave. “We’re going to get something that you desperately need. Our first stop is the Ha’Penny Bridge.” He pointed at a gently curving pedestrian bridge.
“Is that ‘something’ food?” Eva asked.
Bloom said that she shouldn’t be thinking about food at a time when rescue was of the upmost importance. Eva countered that being full and strong would ensure a better adventure. Annie stopped listening and instead followed Johann and Jamie onto the bridge.
