Glory Alley and the Star Riders (The Glory Alley Series) (53 page)

“You’re joking?”

“Why would I joke about a thing like that?”

The mention of food caused the pit in her stomach to gnaw harder
.
Th
e food
looked
worse than a school lunch
.
The bread was dry
and
crumbly
.
Between the slices was something that
looked like hamburger and smelled like cabbage
.
S
he preferred not to know exactly
what she was eating and
chewed the sinewy stuff with
effort.

Despite the cold and bad food
,
optimis
m raised its
dangerous
head
.
An
other
of the
eight
conditions
had been discovered
—
t
he ritual had to be conducted within
a circle.
She could almost taste th
e magic
now
.

However,
the Bamboozle
waited ahead
.
And
it
was sure to be
most
unpleasant
.

A
lush green
island came into view below
.
W
hite
sandy
beach
es
circle
d
the perimeter
, but what caught her attention most
was
the white volcano
-like thingy
. Its
base bulged
out of the jungle like a round gourd.
Its
stem
stood straight and tall
.
No steam or smoke rose from
the stack
.

“Is that the Bamboozle?
”
Glory
wondered.

“Aye,” all the
Wybbil
s replied.

“
Reminds me of a flower vase.
That doesn’t look so bad
.”

The whifferdil made a soft landing on dry sand
.
The sun beat down hard.
Once they were still, the wind
flow stopped, the air became hot and and
op
pressive,
thawing
Glory
to the bone
.
She
leaned over the
whifferdil’s
side of
and let a fistful of gritty warm
sand sift through
her
fingers
.

“Stop that!
”
t
he pilot
barked
.
“You’re getting dirt all over my whifferdil!”

“
Sorry.
”
She
tried to brush away the sand.

“
Just g
et off
.
”
T
he pilot shooed h
er
away, while t
he other
Wybbil
s stretched their limbs and groaned. “Grab an end.”

“Not until we circle thrice, then back again.
”
The
star riders
circled the whifferdil, making
Glory
follow along behind them
.
Finally, with the pilot’s prodding, the
y
lifted the whifferdil
,
shook it clean
, and
helped the pilot roll it into a log
-
shape
like a sleeping bag
.
Baffling how
the
spongy material could be compacted into such a small amount of space
.
Perhaps magic did have
a few advantages over science
, but no chance she’d tell them that
.

The pilot secured the roll with a leather strap then hoisted it on his back.

“Is it heavy?
”
Glory
asked.

“Light as a pillow.”

“What if it gets wet?”

“
It’s p
ractically water proof
, but if it does soak up water it gets very heavy
.
”
The pilot lugged it by a strap over one shoulder and fell in line behind
Glory
as they tramped off of the beach
.
“
A
whifferdil
be
different than a real sponge
.
It
can tolerate some rain,
lots actually,
but
it’s best not to fly in heavy downpours
.
”

Bone was in the lead when they entered the dark jungle
.
He created a sickle from the Thunderbone, using it to cut a
trail
through the jungle.
Screeches, hoots
,
and twitters sounded all around them
.

They walked for
an hour
through the jungle. Steam rose from the forest floor
.
Unseen animals shrieked and howled, while glowing eyes peered out from the dark spaces in between the trunks of trees
.
The
Wybbil
s seemed unconcerned, so
Glory
was too, at least about the jungle
. She’d already seen the
Bamboozle
from afar, but she still had no idea as to its purpose. Something unpleasant is all she knew…egad!
She
considered bolting for cover
.
It’d take the
Wybbil
s hours, if not days, to find h
er
among the thick vegetation
.
But then what
?

Even if
s
he could escape
,
she couldn’t return to Tullah without the Paraplume.
Living out the rest of h
er
life alone on an island in Wybb was not part of
her
plan
.
No,
the
plan involved binding
a star rider
,
not
ditching
them
.
And as much as she tried to shove away the question
—
what if the Wybbils were
telling the truth about their planet dying without
the
Elboni
?
W
hat if
her refusal to give it back killed
a whole planet
?
Maybe even a
galaxy or two?
She
’d be
like
the uberest villain ever
…
the kind that
g
alactic
h
eroes
crush
while
everybody cheers
.

The thought bothered her very much
.

But, darn it, I’m one of the good guys!

She closed her
eyes, trying to clear away any doubt that she was on the side of right.
I’m doing this for my family
.
I’m trying to keep us together
.
That’s
a
noble
thing
—isn’t it?

Again, Wybb looked just fine. The
j
ungle teamed with the sounds of life
.
L
ush greenery s
urrounded her on every side.
Who were the Wybbils kidding?
And even if there is some truth to what they were saying about Wybb dying—why should
she
care? They
had
already told
her
they d
idn’t
care about
her
troubles or
her
family.  Then she remembered how the whifferdils lost control, not just on the way here, but the flights of pilgrim outside the cathedral. That couldn’t have been a ruse for her benefit.  Stop it! She told herself. Don’t even go there!
P
retend this is
a game of
Treasure Quest
.
I’m
a
brave knight
—one who’s
about to
move in
to
the dragon’s lair without the dragon noticing
.

Seek, Find, Persist, Conque
r
…
she
could see the game board in her mind. She
repeated
the words
like a mantra
,
Seek, Find, Persist, Conquer. Seek, Find, Persist, Conquer.