“Where are you?” she asked.
In the World
In Albion
“Where’s that?” Callie wanted to know, thinking that, even for a bowl of cereal, it was being a little evasive.
You will find us
“Huh? Look, whoever you are,” Callie said firmly, “I’m not going to any ‘Albion.’ I want to go to France!”
We need your help
“Help? You want a twelve-year-old to help you? You must be really desperate.”
We need you now
Time is running out
Callie felt a shiver creep down her spine like a big, leggy spider. Either the cereal was for real, or this was the best practical joke Lewis had ever dreamed up.
Her army draws near
“Army? Whose army?”Callie said, unable to shake a strange feeling that the cereal was deadly serious. Deep down, she knew whose army it was: The Raven Queen’s…
Come quickly, Princess Calandria
“What did you call me?” Callie asked. But the cereal wasn’t responding. The letters were all mixed up as usual, no longer arranging themselves into cryptic messages.
Callie spoke nearer to the bowl. “Hello?”
“Callie, honey,” her dad said from the doorway, “were you just talking to your cereal?”
She jumped back and almost fell off the couch. “No… I, uh, had Lewis on speakerphone, see?” She picked up the cordless from under the coffee table and held it aloft.
“Oh.” Her dad didn’t look too convinced. “Well, ask him if he wants to come for pizza tonight.”
“Pizza?” Callie asked, confused.
“Yes. Pizza. It’s a round food item with pepperoni and cheese on it. We usually have it for your birthday.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in. “Oh right! My birthday. Of course. How could I have forgotten that?” She gave a weak laugh.
Her father stared at her for a moment, then nodded toward the phone. “Callie, aren’t you going to ask Lewis about tonight?”
“Actually, Lewis had to hang up.”
“Well, that was a short conversation.” He frowned and felt Callie’s forehead. “Are you feeling all right? You’re not running a fever or anything, are you?”
Callie pasted on a winning smile. She wanted to say, “Hey, if you just had a conversation with a bowl of cereal, you’d be feeling a little strange, too!” But she didn’t. Instead, she said, “Never been better, Dad.”
She quickly ushered him out of the family room, knowing in her gut that somehow the message in her cereal and the strange dream were related.
“Now let me get ready for school. I want to look nice for my birthday. It’s a big day for me.” Callie put her cereal bowl on the counter, gave it a double take to make sure it hadn’t started spelling things again, and trotted upstairs.
Once in her room, she flung open the door of her closet and yanked out her favorite jeans and a long-sleeved pink T-shirt. Her dad called from downstairs, “Callie, you didn’t eat your cereal!”
“Of course, I didn’t,” she muttered to herself as she got her jeans on and pulled her T-shirt over her head. “It wouldn’t stop talking long enough for me to get a bite in.”
Callie tried to arrange her mass of red curls into something that didn’t look like an electrified mop, but gave up and opted for her usual ponytail.
She was just about to turn away from the mirror when she noticed the T-shirt she was wearing. Emblazoned across the front in dark pink, sparkly letters was the word “Princess.”
Weird.
Callie grabbed her backpack and headed downstairs. She had to get to school and tell Lewis about her dream and the weird message in her cereal. What would he say when she told him his best friend was a princess of a mysterious land, and they needed her help to fight an evil queen’s army?
Though most twelve-year old girls would have jumped at the possibility of being a princess of a magical land, Callie couldn’t shake a foreboding feeling that went along with it. Somewhere deep inside, she knew something had begun which she wouldn’t be able to stop.
And that scared her more than anything else in the world.
TWO
A Mysterious Gift
When Callie arrived at school, she made a beeline for Lewis, who was sitting alone, as usual, on the brick retaining wall next to the playground. He had his nose buried in a book called Astrophysics Made Easy.
Lewis Farnsworth didn’t exactly fit in, which was probably why he was best friends with Callie.
“Lewis,” Callie whispered as loud as she could.
He looked up and brightened, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “Happy Birthday, Cal.”
“Lewis, I have to tell-”
“It’s hard to believe you’re twelve now, Cal.” His eyes took on a melodramatic hue. “It seems like just yesterday we were fighting over Lego blocks, then making up and sharing our apple juice in kindergarten. And look at you now. Twelve. Welcome to the other side.” He shook her hand and then started digging in his backpack.
“Lewis, I have something to say-”
“Got a present for you. Use it in good health.” He handed Callie a badly wrapped gift, which looked like a big book.
Callie unwrapped it, as it would have been rude not to. “Thompson’s Encyclopedia of Medieval Warfare. I don’t know what to say, Lew. Thanks.”
“From my own personal collection.” He packed up his books and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “I read it cover to cover—twice. Take it from me, it’s fascinating stuff. Never know when it’ll come in handy.”
“Yeah.” All of a sudden, Callie felt funny about filling her friend in on the morning’s events. In fact, the more time that elapsed, the more Callie thought maybe she’d imagined the whole thing as a result of some twelve-year-old rite-of-passage/preteen hysteria. But every time she imagined that it wasn’t real, a little voice inside her told her not to be foolish, that of course it had been real.
She was Princess Calandria of Albion, and her presence was needed immediately to thwart the plans of an evil queen and her army.
Now, why did she have a problem saying that out loud to her best friend?
“Uh, Lew?” Callie began.
“You know, being twelve rocks,” Lewis said, walking ahead of her across the playground. “Just think, soon we’ll have driver’s licenses, and cool jobs, and we’ll be taller, Cal. Taller!”
The buzzer sounded. Callie and Lewis were carried along into the school in a noisy tide of students. They headed toward their classroom.
Callie’s heart raced. She had to tell Lewis about the dream and the message in her cereal… and what it might mean.
“Lewis!” Callie whispered as loud as she dared.
He didn’t hear her.
“Lewis, I had a weird dream last night, and I think I might be a magical princess and I have to go fight an evil queen!”
He turned his head then. By the confused and amused look in his eyes, Callie knew he thought she was joking.
It was too late to explain any more, the other kids were taking their seats. Lewis sat next to her, occasionally glancing across the aisle, shaking his head and chuckling. Chuckling! Someplace called Albion was under threat from an evil queen (whom they needed Callie’s help to thwart), and he was chuckling? She looked down at her desk, pondering the best course of action. Though it was completely forbidden—completely-Callie decided there was only one thing to do.
She was going to pass a note.
Ms. Randall, their teacher, was young and pretty and well-liked, but she was very strict with her sixth-graders. No chewing gum. No texting. No passing notes.
As far as Callie knew, only one other person had ever attempted it-Rosie Schwartz, back on the second day of school this year. After “The Incident” as it was later referred to, no one had ever seen or heard from Rosie again. Rumor was that she now went by the name of Dorothy Swanson and attended school in the next town.
Ms. Randal
l swept into the classroom, looking crisp in an apple-green sweater set and black capris, with her blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail. She was warm to the kids in her class, but she didn’t put up with a whole lot of foolishness, either. Basically, the kids loved her.
The thought of Ms. Randall being disappointed in her made Callie feel almost sick, but the thought of holding in all the strange events of the morning, unable to talk to Lewis until recess made Callie feel even sicker.
“All right, class, settle down,” Ms. Randall said. “Take out your math textbooks, please.”
Several soft groans erupted from the class.
Ms. Randall ignored their objections, as usual. “Page 72. Let’s go over problems three to six….”
As the class dutifully turned to the assignment, Callie ripped a piece of paper from her notebook and glanced around cautiously. She hadn’t even written anything on it yet, and already she felt like a criminal.
Callie bit her lip, trying not to lose her place in the problems they were covering in case Ms. Randall called on her, and at the same time trying to write a short note that would convey the seriousness of the morning’s events to Lewis. She wrote:
Lewis-I’m serious. Something strange happened to me this morning.
I got a message in my cereal that said I was a princess and I had to help this place called Albion in their fight against an evil queen.
You have to help me figure out what to do!
C
P.S. Dad said you could come for pizza tonight.
She quickly folded up the note, her heart beating wildly. This was, without a doubt, the most daring thing Callie had ever done at school. The adrenaline rush had been unexpected, and yet not completely unenjoyable. The next thing she knew, she’d be jumping out of airplanes yelling, “Whoo-hoo.”
“Psst.” She tried to get Lewis’ attention quietly, as she didn’t want to alert Wanda Morris, the class bully and the class snitch.
Wanda would have been pretty if she wasn’t always in a bad mood. As a result of her prickly nature, her friends were few and far between. In fact, rumor had it that her friends (a grand total of two and who had never been seen in person by anyone besides Wanda) lived three states away and only corresponded with her via email.
To compensate for her unpopularity, Wanda took pride in bullying the kids on the playground and tattling on everyone in class. But Wanda was smart, and did her bullying in a sneaky way. To date, she had never been caught by any of the teachers, and even though Ms. Randall went on record as not approving of tattling, it was difficult for the teacher to ignore Wanda when she reported incidents like, “Morton Dengler just set fire to his pants,” or “Toby Taneli put spiders in your desk.”
Wanda sat directly behind Lewis. She was very thin as she took no enjoyment out of eating-not even candy. She had beady eyes that, due to habitual frowning, almost disappeared into her face, and those dark, glittery eyes saw things no normal kid’s did.
Wanda also had a keen sense of smell, and could differentiate between flavors of contraband gum from clear across the room. Wanda often used her super senses in the classroom to blackmail kids at recess. She had a repertoire of meaningful looks, some of which said things like: “I see you chewing gum. Hand over your lunch money or I’ll tell Ms. Randall,” and the ever-popular, “Passing notes? That’ll be five bucks.”
Getting a note past Wanda was going to be harder than getting it past Ms. Randall.
Callie stared at Lewis. Her friend was staring straight at the board, completely engrossed in Math Problem Number Four.
“Lewis,” she whispered.
Nothing.
“Lewis,” she tried again.
This wasn’t working. She had to think of something else.
Then a brilliant idea took hold. She put the folded note inside her notebook and wrote look inside on the cover lightly in pencil. It was a risky plan, but she thought it might work. She pushed the notebook off her desk so it went kerflop into the aisle, right at Lewis’ feet.
A couple of kids turned to look. The commotion got Ms. Randall’s attention, too.
“Oops, sorry,” Callie said innocently. “I dropped my notebook. Lewis, will you get it for me?”
That seemed to do the trick. Ms. Randall went back to the equations on the board.
Lewis picked it up and smiled at Callie.
She gave him a look that said, “Read the hand written message on the scribbler, idiot!”
Lewis nonchalantly slipped the note out, then turned to Callie with his trademark smile and handed the notebook smoothly across the aisle.
Callie breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn’t help glancing at Wanda to make sure they’d gotten past her, too.
Wanda’s beady eyes peered at Callie through her narrow little glasses. She knew they were up to something, but it was obvious she didn’t know what.
Callie felt dizzy. Her blood pressure was going through the roof. She stared at Lewis as he read the note, and was completely unprepared for his reaction.
He laughed.
Out loud.
Then he tried to cover it up by coughing, but he’d gotten the class’s attention, and in particular, Ms. Randall’s.
“Are you all right, Mr. Farnsworth?” she asked flatly.
“Fine,” he croaked, taking out his asthma inhaler. “Just a little coughing fit, preceded by the memory of a humorous moment.”
“I see,” Ms. Randall said, looking like she didn’t.
Callie was stunned. Not only had Lewis laughed at her plea for help-laughed!-he’d botched her brilliant note-passing plan by getting everyone’s attention. She glanced back at Wanda, who was staring straight at her with a look that said, “Try that again, and I’m going to tell, big time.”
Knowing it was risky, Callie unzipped her pencil case and wrote, It’s true on her eraser. “Sure, you can borrow my eraser, Lewis,” she said, handing it to him.
Ms. Randall glanced behind her, watching Lewis take it and immediately use it to erase part of the problem he was working on. Their teacher returned her attention to the board.
Callie gave Lewis the best “dagger eyes” she could muster. Lewis read the note, his light blue gaze meeting hers. Now he understood she was serious. He quickly used his own eraser to get rid of her pencil-written message. He wrote one of his own on it and passed it back to her.
We’ll talk at recess.
“Ms. Randall?” Wanda said sweetly, or as sweetly as a calculating bully can, “I forgot my eraser, too. Could I borrow Callie’s eraser, since she doesn’t seem to mind lending it out?”
Callie’s heart sank. She hadn’t had time to erase the message, and now it was going to end up in Wanda’s hands.
Ms. Randall turned, looking quite cross. “Yes, you may, Wanda, if you’ve forgotten your eraser, too. And if there are any others in the class who need erasers, I would ask that you all borrow one now so that we may get back to work. After this, if there are any more interruptions, the entire class will be staying after school to do a twenty-question math quiz. Is that clear?”
Wanda looked as if the wind had been taken out of her sails. She didn’t even bother to say, “Yes, Ms. Randall.” Instead, she snatched the eraser out of Callie’s hand and looked down at it. Then she sank back into her desk like a snake coiling upon itself and smiled the most evil smile she had probably ever smiled, which for her was pretty evil. She gave Callie a look that said, “You’re so busted.”
Callie’s heart did flip-flops. She didn’t think Wanda would say anything during class because of Ms. Randall’s threat. But Callie knew Wanda would somehow work this to her advantage. Callie and Lewis had been passing notes on her eraser; the evidence was still there. No doubt Wanda would try to blackmail her or something worse. She wondered how much money it was going to take to keep Wanda’s mouth shut.
The rest of the lesson passed in relative quiet. The class was subdued after Ms. Randall’s harsh warning, and the sick feeling in Callie’s stomac
h grew worse. Now she had another problem to deal with: Wanda Morris snitching on her.
This day had gone from weird, to bad, to worse! First the strange dream, then cryptic messages in her cereal, then Wanda catching her passing notes. For a birthday, it wasn’t going well. Callie wondered what else could go wrong today.
They still had one more class before recess-history. Thankfully, it was one of Callie’s favorites. Maybe it would help keep her mind off everything. Ms. Randall instructed them to take out their history textbooks and turn to chapter five on the kings and queens of England.
Someone rapped on the classroom door-“rapped” because that’s exactly what it sounded like, not just an ordinary knock. “Rapping” is much more important-sounding.
Ms. Randall furrowed her brow. No one ever knocked or rapped on their classroom door while school was in session-unless it was something serious, like someone in your family was in the hospital. Callie knew this from experience.
All eyes turned toward the door as the children hoped their name wouldn’t be called.
Ms. Randall stepped back into the classroom, looking very serious indeed. “Callie Richards, come to the door, please.”
Callie’s heart did not only a flip-flop, but a swan dive into cement. Her Dad-what if her Dad was hurt? What if her Dad was dead? She couldn’t lose another parent…
Callie looked to Lewis for strength, and he whispered, “It’ll be okay.”
She took a deep breath and forced herself out of her desk, forced her feet to move, walking slowly up to the front of the room. She could feel her classmates’ eyes upon her, especially two pairs in particular-Lewis’ and Wanda’s.
The closer Callie got to the door, the more scared she got. She hated being scared. She’d spent far too much time being scared in the past two years.
Ms. Randall held the door open for Callie, her expression unreadable. “Come out into the hallway, please. There’s someone who wishes to see you.”
Someone who wishes to see you…
Before she could stop herself, Callie wished it was her mom. That would be the best birthday present ever.
Taken by the Cowboy Page 26
