We saddled up and swiftly sped toward the nearest wormhole. Jason was paired with SJ again. Blue and I shared a Pegasus and flew at the head of the pack. She steered while I guided us to our target with my Hole Tracker’s proximity sensor. Our next stop was the realm actually called Wonderland (better known as Alice’s Wonderland). We would have to portal-hop through five more worlds after that—Toyland, The Giants’ Keep, Neverland, Camelot, and Cloud Nine—before reaching Oz.
We turned into an alley behind a steakhouse, and there, the orange glow of a portal radiated in the side of a dumpster. We dove through it one Pegasus at a time.
Our team emerged in Wonderland. The realm’s skies were filled with the luminescence of the Aurora. There was also a lavender mist in the air that smelled like boysenberries. It seemed to be coming from the forest below, which was black and twisted. Off to the right, the lights of a city sparkled, while on our left spanned a massive canyon filled with thick vines sprouting glowing lilies.
I checked my Hole Tracker and directed our group to the closest clockwise portal; it was opening two miles west in three minutes. I was painfully aware of every second that ticked by as we flew on. The Vicennalia Aurora only lasted an hour, meaning our chance to make a difference in Oz and Book diminished by the minute.
Our steeds soared over the forest. Weird sounds like drunk birds and frogs emanated from within. More alarmingly, periodic vines shot out of the thick canopy like tentacles attempting to grab us. The frequency of the attacks increased as we got closer to the portal. Only the quickness of our Pegasi and our own reflexes maneuvering the steeds allowed us to evade being pulled under.
We plunged into the wormhole to Toyland at full speed. However, that very velocity caused us problems when we crossed over. The instant we changed realms, the Pegasi turned into plastic toys. They clattered to the ground while their momentum launched us forward into the cushioned impact of two giant teddy bears. My friends and I bounced off their squishy backsides and rolled to a stop.
Sitting up, I realized the teddy bears we’d hit weren’t actually giant; we’d shrunk. How did I know this? Well, when the buildings around you seem a hundred feet tall but are made of cereal boxes stacked on top of each other, it’s a pretty good sign. That, and the lollipop planted in the ground next to me was being used as a street sign.
The six of us had crash-landed in the middle of a toy metropolis. Skyscrapers made of books, paper cups, and the aforementioned cereal boxes were everywhere. Strings of multi-colored lanterns weaved between edifices like laundry lines; the lanterns were sugarcoated gumdrops with fireflies stuffed inside to make them glow.
Hundreds, maybe thousands, of dolls, plastic animal figurines, toy soldiers, and stuffed animals (all our size and alive) were crammed together on the multi-colored polygon roads. Most of the crowd was looking at the Vicennalia Aurora overhead—cheering, clapping, and celebrating. The only toys distracted from the festivities were the two teddy bears we’d plowed into and the surrounding witnesses.
“Oh my goodness,” exclaimed the lady bear who had a white wedding veil jauntily attached to her right ear. “Are you all right?”
She and her husband (who was wearing a top hat and tuxedo), a congenial rag doll, and three toy soldiers helped us to our feet.
“Yup. Fine,” I said as I hastily checked my Hole Tracker.
There was a clockwise portal fifty feet away that would be open for another sixty seconds. I glanced at the Pegasi. Every part of them—including their normally holographic wings—was solid plastic, and wind-up gears had sprouted from their bellies. My friends and I tried to get close with the intention of cranking them to see if that would make the creatures fly again, but the Pegasi were too angry to let us try. They whinnied indignantly and bucked their heads at us.
We didn’t have time for this.
“Forget it,” I told the others. “We’ll go on foot.”
“Thanks for the help!” Blue called to the toys as we merged into the crowd. A plastic robot stuck out his hand and she high-fived it as we passed.
It took a good amount of shoving and squishing, but we managed to make it through the ruckus of the streets and to the portal, which was underneath an art sculpture made of sewing needles three times bigger than my spear. The six of us leapt through.
Converse to our last size shock, this time we emerged on top of a hat the size of a two-story hovel. It rested on the ground beside a recliner bigger than the dragon in Century City. We were in The Giants’ Keep, the realm of the giants. Jason’s brother Jack had once climbed a magic beanstalk to this Wonderland. He was one of the few protagonists who’d ever survived the journey.
I conferred with my Hole Tracker. The map warped a bit—I guess it was adjusting to our size changes—but soon enough the proximity sensor started flashing and I understood the direction we needed to go.
“Come on,” I said pointing to the door. “This way.”
I jumped off the hat and slid down the brim. My friends followed. The shag carpet we landed in was like tall prairie grass. Breeze coming in from an open window high above blew dust bunnies across our path like tumbleweeds.
The door to the room was closed, but booming laughter and the sound of utensils and glassware clinking came through the crack between the frame and the floor. We shimmied on our stomachs through it and arrived in a grand ballroom.
The impossibly far-off ceiling was made of glass, allowing the Aurora’s colors to spill onto the party underway. Giants in suits and fancy dresses were laughing, mingling, and eating appetizers served on fancy platters. Compared to the brutish green ogres of the Canyon of Geene (which were much smaller), these giants simply looked like enormous versions of people. Still, their shoes could easily turn us into pancakes, so we had to be careful. We raced across the freshly waxed dark wood floor to a potted plant from which we could more safely survey the room.
The portal we needed to get to was somewhere on the other side of the building. My Hole Tracker indicated it would open in four minutes. When I turned to ask my friends for their opinion on how we should cross the compund, I found myself staring up at a set of enormous black eyes perched over a bright orange bill. The waterfowl I faced was normal in size in proportion to the giants, but monstrously large to us.
“Duck!” Kai said.
“Um, I’m pretty sure it’s a goose,” Blue commented.
“No, duck. As in, hit the deck!” Kai pointed to a waiter who had tripped. The cheese balls on his silver tray were tumbling toward us like boulders. We barely avoided having our heads taken off by servings of cheddar.
The massive goose, whose feathers were white and coated in golden glitter, began eating the balls of cheese on the floor. After he’d consumed three, his entire body convulsed and his plumage stuck up. With a honk, he released something out of his backend. I thought it was going to be a turd, but it turned out to be a golden egg.
“Your brother stole one of these?” Daniel asked Jason in disbelief, gesturing at the goose. “How the heck did he take it with him?”
“He stole a baby goose,” Jason responded. “When they’re born, golden geese are the size of full-grown Bloodhounds, only a lot more clueless. He strapped it to his back and carried it down the stalk.”
“Did your brother happen to mention anything that might help us in this situation?” SJ asked. “Knowledge of golden geese is hardly going to get us through in one piece.”
“Uh, when you make a deal with a giant, make sure you call no take-backs.”
“Great. Real helpful,” Kai huffed. “Anybody else?”
I watched the goose hungrily search for the cheese balls. He was aggressively going after one that had rolled beneath the planter next to us. His neck was bent and his entire head was crammed into the crevice beneath the planter.
“Let’s try this,” I said. “Everybody climb onto the goose. Quickly.”
We clambered aboard. The goose cocked his head as we settled, then continued his hunt for cheese. I gu
ess he didn’t mind the passengers—we were light cargo.
“Hold on tight,” I said.
I clutched the goose’s feathers with one hand then extended the other and concentrated. A split second later, the hefty ball of cheese shot out from under the planter, consumed in my magic golden glow. Without hesitation, the goose pursued the dairy product.
Initially, I kept the ball rolling on the floor so the goose waddled after it at full speed. Then I commanded the cheese to soar upward near the ceiling away from the giants. Our bird spread his wings and flew after it. He startled some lady giants who instinctively reached for their hair as the fowl flew over them. In a matter of moments, we were on the other side of the ballroom. I managed a glance at my Hole Tracker. We were on the right track.
I guided the goose with the flying cheese through two more hallways, leaving the party behind. Then we swooped into a room with a pink gate that blocked only the lower half of the door.
“There!” Jason said, pointing to an open-faced dollhouse across the room. A small orange portal swirling with sparks floated over the roof.
I wondered if all wormholes in this realm were human-sized. It would make sense—the Portalscape wasn’t big enough to host giants, and otherwise the massive humanoids would be running free in other realms. Maybe this place was called The Giants’ Keep because their species was kept here permanently.
I relinquished control of the cheese ball and it fell to the ground in front of a frilly bed with a thick red bedskirt. The goose landed on the carpet and we dismounted. We ran for the dollhouse but didn’t make it ten steps. A hand abruptly reached out from under the bedskirt and grabbed me, Kai, and Jason in one fell swoop and pulled us beneath the bed. We found ourselves looking at up at a young girl giant. She was lying on her stomach and had several flashlights positioned on the floor. Their light illuminated scattered building blocks, a couple of ballerina dolls, and six plastic horses with marker all over them.
The little giant held us close to her face. Her eyes were bright blue, curious, and bigger than our heads. She had freckles on her cheeks the size of softballs and an endearing gap between her two front teeth.
“What are you?” the little giant asked. “Are you new toys that Mommy got for me?”
“Um, no,” Jason said.
“Are you sure? You look like toys.”
“We’re sure,” I said.
The little giant tapped the pudgy fingers of her other hand against her cheek. “I think I’ll keep you anyway. Mommy says I’m too little to go to the party, but I’m lonely back here. My other toys are no fun. Not like you. You can be my new friends.”
The others ducked beneath the bedskirt, looking for us, but Jason waved them away before the little giant could spot them.
“What if we can give you some other new friends instead?” Jason countered. “Friends that never leave you, always want to play, and are way more fun than us?”
Intrigue twinkled in the little giant’s eyes. “Ooh, okay! Like a trade?”
“Exactly like a trade,” he said. “Just put us down and we’ll show you where they are.”
Excitedly, the little giant placed us on the floor in front of her. “Okay, show me,” she said, hovering over us intimidatingly.
“First, let’s make the deal,” Jason said. “We give you new friends; you let us go. No take-backs.”
He reached out his hand and the giant extended her pinky finger for him to shake. “No take-backs,” she repeated.
Jason elbowed me then nodded to the plastic horses and dolls. “Crisa. Can you . . .”
Brilliant idea!
I focused on the toys. Come to life and play with this little girl giant for as long as she wants, I thought. Be good. Never break. And never get lost.
Magic enveloped the toys. The horses sprang to life and began galloping around us. The dolls stretched, then straightened their dresses and twirled like the most skilled dancers. I was quite pleased with the outcome until I realized that the giant’s eyes weren’t on the toys; they were on me. I was glowing. I stopped a moment later, but the little giant remained entranced.
“You’re neat!” she exclaimed. “You light up and everything! I’m keeping you too!”
She reached out to grab me, but a silver shock surged up her arm.
“Ow!” She tried to sit up but banged her head against the bed frame. “Ow!” she said again.
“Come on,” Jason said, pulling me by the arm.
“Wait, come back!” the little giant wailed. She tried to snatch us again, but just like before, a shock zapped her before she got too close.
The three of us dashed around building blocks the size of train cars and met up with the others. We ducked under the bedskirt and raced toward the dollhouse.
“What was that shock?” Kai asked.
“Giants are notorious for going back on deals,” Jason explained. “But they have a curse on them that acts as a failsafe. Get ’em to agree to no take-backs and no matter what happens, they can’t double-cross you.”
“I withdraw my earlier sass,” Kai responded. “That was actually really helpful.”
We reached the dollhouse’s plastic foyer and scrambled up the narrow, twisting staircase. When we reached the third floor, Daniel climbed through the nearest window frame and pulled himself onto the roof. Kai followed. Then the house came under attack.
The little giant had scrambled out from under her bed and launched one of her building blocks at us. We managed to throw ourselves to the ground as another block smashed against the furniture. I was grateful our reflexes were so adept. After everything we’d been through, dying in a dollhouse seemed like a truly unspectacular way to go.
SJ whipped out her slingshot and fired a jade portable potion. It met another building block the little giant had thrown and encased it in a wad of slimy goop that plopped to the floor. The little giant pouted angrily before scooping up another armful of blocks.
“Go!” SJ said, waving at us.
Blue and Jason pulled themselves onto the roof as SJ fired portable potions to counteract the little giant’s projectiles. After three more shots the giant abandoned her blocks and started to plod over. SJ fired an ice potion at the giant’s shoe. It froze the tip of her right sneaker to the floor, causing her to trip. SJ took that opportunity to catch up with us. We dove through the next shrinking wormhole and left the wailing giant behind.
With a clunk and a thud, we landed in a boxy wooden room that smelled like seawater. The portal closed behind us, so at least we were safe from more blocks.
This new setting looked familiar—the metal bars, the squeaky wooden floorboards. The kicker, however, was Blue’s initials carved in the wall. We’d been locked in this cell a few days ago.
“Where are we?” Kai asked.
“Neverland,” Daniel responded. “Specifically, Hook’s Ship, the Jolly Roger.”
Kai held up her hand and curved her pointer finger. “Like, shiver-me-timbers Hook?”
“One and the same,” Blue replied.
I peered out one of the portholes to see only sea and sky. It was mesmerizing; the Aurora’s shades reflected off the water vividly.
“I’d have thought this thing would’ve sunk to the bottom of the ocean,” Jason commented as we walked out of the boat’s unlocked cell. “We burnt half of it to a crisp the last time we were onboard.”
The ship’s wooden panels were intermittingly blackened. Not all of them had been replaced during reconstruction. Fresh beams of wood could be seen throughout the vessel, reinforcing the old with renewed strength.
“I guess they worked fast on rebuilding,” I responded. “And based on how this area looks relatively the same, the lower half of the boat was likely not as damaged as the top.”
Blue gestured with her head to Jason, and the two climbed up the stairs to peer through the hatch. It was unlocked given that there weren’t any prisoners down here.
“What’s the word?” I asked our friends when they finished
snooping.
“It’s not good,” Blue said. “There are dozens of pirates up there. And you saw out that porthole; we’re miles off shore.”
“That is actually good news,” SJ commented. “We need to go farther out.”
We turned and found her standing in an open cell on the starboard side of the boat, staring out its porthole.
“We will not be needing your Hole Tracker, Crisa,” she said, gesturing out the window. “The next wormhole is right there.”
The five of us crowded around the porthole. It looked like the moon had a mutant twin. The orange portal hovered in the air a couple hundred feet away and at least a hundred feet overhead, smack-dab in the glow of the Vicennalia Aurora.
“Cool. I think I can get us there,” I said. “But when we’re close enough, we’re going to have to run up deck, get around the pirates, and jump.”
“Sounds fun,” Jason responded. “You sure you have enough power?”
“You have no idea,” I responded.
And he didn’t. None of them did. Since I woke the dragon, I had felt magic palpitating inside me. It had grown after I brought back Kai, but even more so after I killed the dragon. Now I needed to release it. The bursts I’d used in The Giants’ Keep had been a relief. Holding in this much power was like trying not to scratch the world’s biggest bug bite.
“Light it up, chief,” Blue said.
The magic within me tingled with excitement. I moved to the back of the cell and placed both hands on the bulkhead. The power was ready and waiting. My glow brusquely charged out of me and seeped into every crease in every slab of wood in the ship.
“Come to life. Take us to the wormhole in the sky . . . And if you could buck off a few pirates bronco-style on your way, that would be great.”
All of a sudden the ship lurched. My friends and I toppled sideways and fell against the bars of the cell. The pirates up top must’ve wondered if a wave had hit them. I doubted they thought that for long. I peered out the porthole and discovered the entire vessel was coated in a golden glow and was lifting out of the water. When it floated above the surface, the boat started jerking about wildly.
Crisanta Knight: The Lost King Page 21
