Ursula Vernon
Page 6
He could hear Wendell whimpering and Christiana muttering furious rhymes behind him, but his mom’s hand never left his.
Another twig-creature loomed up before them. Danny wasn’t sure if he could breathe fire again so soon—his mouth was still sore—but it stumbled past them in the mist.
They broke out of the trees for a moment. Lightning stabbed a hilltop in the distance, and thunder snarled. They plunged back into the trees, and the fox pulled up short.
“Up ahead,” he panted. “But the king thought of everything. There are guards.”
“They’re not allowed to stop us,” said Wendell nervously.
“Do they know that?” asked the fox.
Danny let go of his mother’s hand and crept forward, toward the mushroom ring.
There were guards. They looked nasty. They had pigs. The pigs looked much nastier.
He gulped.
Mrs. Dragonbreath stepped up beside him and gazed resolutely at the guards. She looked down at Danny.
And nodded.
“Right,” said Danny. “We can do this.”
He stepped out of the trees and marched toward the fairy ring. The pigs looked up, grunting. They were as big as Tiddlywinks, and didn’t seem nearly so pleasant.
“Halt!” cried one of the guards, brandishing his spear.
“No!” Danny yelled back. “You halt!”
“Oh, that’s going to stop them. . . .” muttered Wendell.
Danny didn’t care. The fairies might be twice as big as he was, the pigs might be the size of dump trucks, but it didn’t matter. The fairy king had made a promise, and nothing was going to stop Danny from taking his mother through that fairy ring.
The guard slowly lowered his spear. “He swore that?”
“Yes, he did!” called Wendell.
There was a long, long pause, while Danny thought it just might work.
And then the guard grinned a little—just a little—and his pig made a squeal that was almost a nasty little laugh, and the guard said, “Did he say anything about me stopping you?”
What happened next happened quickly.
Danny’s mother lunged at the fairy guard. The fairy plainly hadn’t been paying attention to her at all and went down under a hundred and sixty pounds of very angry female dragon. Christiana pounced on Wendell, shoved a hand into the iguana’s backpack, and flung their very last spoon into the face of the nearest fairy. The fox leaped high in the air, right over the last fairy’s head, and slapped him across the face with his brushy tail.
Suddenly there was no one at all between Danny and the fairy ring except one startled pig.
“Out of the way!” hissed Danny, staring at the pig. “Out of my way, or I swear by oak and ash and rowan that I’ll turn you into bacon!”
Danny was never sure afterward if the magic words had been “ash and rowan” or “bacon,” but the pig paused, and that gave Christiana time to yell, “The fairy king swore no pigs! Not even—um—um—ones wearing wigs!”
The pig looked deeply affronted at the notion that it might wear a wig, but it stepped grudgingly aside.
“Into the ring!” yelled the fox. “Quickly!”
“Go!” yelled Christiana, hauling Wendell forward. “Go, go, and don’t be slow!”
Crested lizard and iguana half staggered, half fell forward into the ring of mushrooms. There was a flash of light, and they vanished before they hit the ground.
“Mom!” yelled Danny. “Mom, come on!”
Mrs. Dragonbreath rolled to her feet. She was carrying the fairy’s spear. The fairy was lying on the ground, curled into a little ball, and did not seem interested in getting up any time soon.
Danny reached out and grabbed her hand.
“Well,” said Danny’s mother. “That was . . . something.”
All four of them lay in the garden. The mushroom ring had mostly been crushed by their passage. Danny sat up and felt fungus squish under his knees.
“I don’t think we’ll be going through that ring again,” he said. And then something else occurred to him. “Mom! You can talk!”
She put a hand on her mouth. “So I can. Thank goodness!”
Wendell let out a bleat of disgust. There was mushroom goop all over his shirt and hands. He tried frantically to scrape it off his fingers, but since both hands were covered, all he did was transfer it from one hand to the other.
Christiana put down the hose and glanced around at the other three. “And you were there, and you were there . . . also there was something about pigs and spoons.”
“Definitely a dream,” said Danny hurriedly. “We, uh, were hanging out in the backyard, and you fell asleep. You’ve been out for hours.”
Wendell gave him a look.
“It’s just easier this way,” muttered Danny. His mom hurriedly shoved the fairy spear in with the rakes against the side of the house.
“Ri-i-ight,” said Christiana, giving them a suspicious look. “Asleep. Really.”
“Do you have a more logical explanation?” asked Wendell, looking innocent.
“You were asleep out in the sun,” said Danny helpfully. “Maybe you got, like, sunstroke or something. I hear that gives you totally weird dreams.”
The look Christiana gave them indicated that she was not particularly convinced, but she only said, “I should get home before Dad starts to worry.” She shouldered her backpack and headed toward the gate in the fence.
“I think your girlfriend’s ticked off,” said Danny, not quite under his breath.
“We’re just lab partners,” said Wendell, with dignity. “And I should get home too. I’m supposed to be doing chores.” His stomach growled. “And I could really use a snack. All that time in Faerie, and nobody offered us fairy food or anything. It’s supposed to be awesome, except for the bit where you can’t ever leave.” He paused at the gate. “Glad you’re back. Mrs. D.”
“Me too, Wendell. Thanks.” She leaned down and kissed the top of the iguana’s head. Wendell flushed and ducked out the gate.
“Well,” said Danny, when they were both gone. “I guess that’s that. Typical morning. Go to Faerie, save world, all in a day’s work.”
Danny couldn’t believe the injustice of it all. He’d rescued his mother from the evil clutches of the fairy king, faced down Cat Sidhe and twig-creatures and giant pigs, and she was grounding him?
“Do you know how dangerous that was?!” his mom yelled, throwing her hands in the air. “You could have been killed! He could have turned you all into worms!”
“He was going to turn you into a tree!”
“All right,” said his mother, finally. “As long as you swear never to do anything like that again—ever—under any circumstances—”
“I’d totally do it again,” said Danny. “You’re my mom!”
“Oh Danny . . .”
She hugged him. Danny glanced around to make sure that Wendell had really gone before hugging back.
“Fine,” she said, sighing. “You’re not grounded.” She stomped into the house. Danny found her drinking cold coffee directly out of the coffeepot. “I’ll get a rototiller in tomorrow and get out the last of those mushrooms. And I’ll call Grandfather and let him know I’m not dead.” She sat down at the kitchen table next to Danny and put her chin on her hand. “I suppose there’s only one thing left to do . . .”
“What’s that?”
“Figure out how we’re going to explain to your father that there are no spoons left in the house . . .”
’s best friend, Wendell, has been having some awful dreams lately . . . full of horrible bran waffles his mom is forcing on him, impossible pop quizzes, and monst
ers. But these are no ordinary nightmares . . . and Wendell might just go permanently insane if Danny and Wendell’s not-girlfriend Suki don’t delve into his dreams and save him.