Sky Raiders (34 page)

C
hocolate chip cookies the size of hula hoops floating in a pond of milk gave Cole his first warning that something was out of the ordinary. He squinted out the window in the morning light. Bushes and small trees grew intermittently on the muddy bank beside the pond. Rocks and sticks littered the shore. Everything looked like a normal woodland pond except for the creamy white liquid and the huge, unmistakable chocolate chip cookies doubling as giant lily pads.

Twitch had curled up on the floor of the autocoach between the seats. Jace was wedged in his corner. Mira had her head on Bertram’s lap. They all breathed like they were sleeping. The old semblance stared sedately out the window.

Cole had only dozed intermittently through the night. Despite the smooth ride, he had struggled to get comfortable
sitting up. Mango had visited before sunrise to confirm that the legionnaires were veering north and south of them—not into Brady’s Wilderness. Too anxious to sleep, Cole had stayed awake since the cockatiel’s visit, watching for trouble.

“Guys,” Cole said. “Check this out.”

Mira popped up as if she hadn’t been fully asleep. “What is it?”

Jace leaned forward blearily to look out Cole’s window, then promptly snapped more awake. “Are those cookies?”

“And milk,” Mira said.

Twitch sat up, stretching. Still on the floor, he was too low to see outside. “Everything all right?”

“Yep,” Cole said. “Just a cookies-and-milk pond.”

“I want one,” Jace said. “Stop the coach.”

“We have food,” Mira said.

“Dried meat and biscuits,” Jace said. “No cookies.”

“They’re probably stale,” Cole said. “The milk has to be spoiled.”

“It doesn’t smell spoiled,” Jace said. “This is shaping. The normal rules don’t always apply.”

“Could be a trap,” Mira said.

“I’m just the guy to spring it,” Jace said. “Remember that castle with the candy garden? Best day of my life.”

“We’re being chased,” Mira said.

“We haven’t stopped all night,” Jace replied. “The bird told us we’re ahead of them. It’s time for breakfast.”

“Okay,” Mira said. “Stop.”

The autocoach immediately responded.

“You’ll be careful?” she asked.

“I’ll dive blindfolded from the highest tree I can find.” He opened the door and hopped down, golden rope in hand. “You coming, Cole?”

Cole fumbled for his sword. “Sure.”

Mira placed a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to go.”

“Giant cookies,” Cole said by way of explanation as he jumped out of the carriage. It felt good to stretch. He buckled his sword belt.

“Come on,” Jace said, already marching off. “You keep watch while I lasso a snack.”

Cole hurried after him, one hand on the hilt of his sword.

At the edge of the milky pond, Jace crouched and cupped milk into one hand. “It’s cold.” He brought his hand to his lips. “Mmmm. Rich and creamy.”

Shaking the milk from his fingers, Jace stood and cast his rope out to the nearest cookie. The golden rope wrapped around the target multiple times. With a flick of his wrist, the rope yanked the oversized cookie out of the milk, but it broke apart, soggy remnants splashing down.

“Not very solid,” Jace said.

Cole knelt on a flat rock that slightly overhung the pond. Below, milk lapped against the stone and the muddy bank, yet the milk didn’t seem to have any dirt in it. He dipped a finger and found that Jace was right—it was quite cold.

Jace ensnared another cookie, then hauled it in slowly, bringing it to where Cole knelt. “Help me get it out.”

Cole reached underneath the cookie. Although the top was firm, the underside was mushy. Working together, Jace and Cole lifted it out of the milk, Cole’s hands sinking into the
underside until reaching a more solid portion. Milk dripped down his wrists into his sleeves and onto his shoes. Holding his half of the sodden cookie required all his strength.

With their prize between them, Jace and Cole shuffled back to the autocoach. Cole tried not to breathe too hard. His arms burned with the effort. Mira got out as they drew near.

“You’re not bringing that in here,” she said.

“Why not?” Jace asked.

“It’s a gooey, drippy mess,” Mira said. “We’ll eat some out here.”

“Break off pieces,” Cole suggested.

Using two hands, Mira snapped off part of one of the edges. The chunk was too big to take a normal bite, but she gnawed at it. “Wow, this is good.”

Twitch got out as well and snapped off a piece. His eyes lit up when he tried a bite.

“Get some for us,” Jace said. “We’re too busy holding it.”

Mira set her piece aside and broke off two more.

“Should we chuck it?” Jace asked.

“You want any, Bertram?” Cole invited.

“No time to bother,” the old man replied. “I’m just here on holiday with my grandniece and grandnephews.”

Swinging their arms, Cole and Jace heaved the cookie sideways, and it whumped down, flattening a circle of tall grass. They accepted their hunks from Mira. “We should get moving,” she said.

“They won’t follow us in here,” Jace said. “Nobody wants to do battle with milk and cookies.”

They all climbed back into the coach. Cole found that
the cookie tasted freshly baked, with a hint of warmth as if it had barely cooled. The soggy parts were extra good. He only had one chocolate chip in his piece, but it was bigger than his fist.

Cole chomped on his cookie as the coach rolled along. Eventually, his stomach started to protest. He worried that eating more would make him sick. “Anybody want the rest of mine?”

“I’m done,” Jace said. “They’re too messy to store.” He tossed it out the window.

“Leaving a trail of cookie crumbs?” Twitch asked.

“They won’t know we did it,” Jace said.

The others chucked their pieces as well.

Cole watched out the window, looking for another cookie pond or anything else out of the ordinary. He didn’t have to wait long. The next clearing they passed was full of upright dominoes, each bigger than a mattress, white with black markings. Hundreds of them formed a winding path, ready to fall if the first toppled.

“That is so tempting,” Cole said. “I love knocking over dominoes.”

“We can’t stop for everything,” Mira said. “One of these times it will be a trap.”

“I can’t believe somebody didn’t tip them over a long time ago,” Cole marveled.

“Maybe somebody did,” Mira said. “They might stand back up on their own. Don’t forget, these were shaped. Who knows what they can do?”

“Use the bow,” Jace said. “Target practice.”

“Right,” Cole replied, excited. Jace had returned the bow to the storage compartment last night. Lifting the hatch, he retrieved it and handed it over.

While pulling the string to his cheek, Cole felt the arrow appear. They had passed the first domino, but in a minute, he would have a clear shot at the last one. Once it was in full view, he released the arrow, which hit the target a little higher than where he had aimed it. The domino rocked backward and fell into the next, creating a clattering chain reaction. The dominoes fell fluidly, the motion snaking around the field until the last slapped down flat.

Everything seemed very quiet after the noise of the dominoes had stopped—until they heard some distant roars, long and low and savage. They all looked at one another.

“Maybe not the best idea to announce our presence,” Twitch said.

“The baddies will figure out we’re here either way,” Jace said.

“We wouldn’t want to try to sneak by them or anything,” Mira said.

“Sorry,” Cole said. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“If we have to blame somebody,” Jace said, “the guy who shot the arrow is first in line.”

“I don’t want to place blame,” Mira said. “I just want to live. I vote we stay in the coach from now on.”

“I’ll second that,” Twitch spoke up.

“Thirded,” Cole said.

“I’m going to keep my options open,” Jace said.

“Majority rules,” Mira informed him.

Jace held up his wrist. “Doesn’t rule me. I’m free.”

Mira rolled her eyes. “I’m technically a princess. I could declare this a monarchy.”

“You’re even more technically a fugitive,” Jace pointed out. “No offense.”

“Whoa,” Cole said.

As they curved around the next bend, a cupcake the size of a hill came into view—vanilla cake with chocolate frosting. Everyone crammed to his side of the coach to have a good look.

“Rethinking your policies?” Jace asked.

“I’m still full from the cookie,” Mira said. “Besides, how do you even get started on something that big?”

“We’ll need mining equipment,” Cole said.

“Check out my side,” Twitch said.

Everyone went to the other side of the coach to stare at a lemon meringue pie as big as a circus tent. In front of the epic pie, s’mores the size of card tables were scattered among the wildflowers, oozing marshmallow from all sides.

“Journey over,” Jace said. “We’ve found our new home.”

“Do you see anybody else here?” Mira asked.

“Their loss,” Jace said.

“Free food everywhere,” Twitch said, “and not a person in sight. What does that tell you?”

“More for us?” Cole asked, earning a high-five from Jace.

“Very funny,” Mira said.

“We get it,” Jace said. “It’s too good to be true. There must be a catch. It’s just fun to joke around.”

“It might not even be a deliberate trap,” Mira said. “But
the boy who made this place disappeared. Something went wrong here. People avoid it for a reason.”

They heard a faint banging up ahead. As the coach advanced, the sound grew louder.

“Are we about to learn the reason?” Cole asked.

“We should get ready,” Jace said, suddenly serious.

Cole put on his shawl and held his bow, fingers gently plucking the string. The volume of the pounding increased.

After passing through an orchard of gummy fruit and jelly beans, they found the source of the booming—an enormous red-and-black checkerboard with a rapid game in progress. Each checker was as wide as the street Cole lived on, and either slid or jumped to a new square when moved. The checkers moved on their own, and no side ever paused. Jumped checkers waited in stacks beside the board. As they watched, kings were made on both sides, and black soon won. Immediately the checkers returned to their starting positions, and a new game began.

“Those would squish you flat,” Twitch said.

“Not if you stay away from the board,” Jace said.

Out the window on his side, Cole saw a ten-story Ferris wheel turning briskly, all the cars empty. At one side of it, across a small stream, a herd of vacant bumper cars jostled with one another on a broad black surface. Beyond the two attractions, off in the trees, Cole glimpsed the top of a roller coaster.

“Look over here,” Cole said. “This place is awesome.”

“What are those?” Jace asked.

“A Ferris wheel and bumper cars,” Cole said. “Rides from my world. This kid had to come from Earth.”

The autocoach continued to trot along, the pace never changing. Cole continued to watch out the window. As bizarre as some of the sights were, the surrounding environment made them weirder. A hot-fudge waterfall crept down an otherwise normal rocky slope. Hamburgers the size of cars populated a brushy field beside thornbushes and boulders. A group of plastic action figures the size of real people posed within a grove of birch trees.

In many ways, Brady’s Wilderness felt like a crazy dream come true. So much of it was silly and impossible. If they weren’t being chased by legionnaires, if they weren’t trying to find Mira’s lost powers, and if this place had a safer reputation, they could have so much fun here.

Cole wondered if his lost friends were seeing sights like this. In Junction City, was Dalton encountering the equivalent of giant pies and fudge waterfalls? Was Jenna using something like a Jumping Sword or Jace’s rope? He hoped they were experiencing at least some good things to help make up for their new lives as slaves in a foreign world.

“More cookies and milk,” Mira said, peering out her window. “Whoever Brady was, the kid liked to eat.”

“Look at the different kinds,” Jace said.

Cole saw a creamy pond crowded with what were either oatmeal or maybe peanut butter cookies. Another contained chocolate cookies with white chips. A third featured huge pale cookies with cinnamon on top—probably snickerdoodles.

“Anybody want to go fishing again?” Jace asked. “We might kick ourselves tomorrow when all we have to eat is dried meat and biscuits.”

“I don’t trust this place,” Mira said. “Let’s keep survival the priority.”

“Why just survive when you can feast?” Jace pressed.

“I’m still stuffed,” Cole said. “They look good, but I doubt I could eat much.”

In the distance, they heard the rich call of a horn blowing, long and low, the note rising a little at the end.

“What was that?” Mira asked.

“Legionnaires?” Twitch guessed.

“Mango would have warned us,” Mira said.

“What if they got her?” Twitch suggested.

Another horn answered, closer this time. Two more sounded from different directions. Then a brassier instrument let out a blast.

“Was that a trumpet?” Cole asked.

“Look!” Twitch shouted, pointing.

Cole followed his finger to the milk pool with the snickerdoodles. Something was rising out of the milk near the edge of the pond, as if walking ashore from the depths. A dripping skull emerged, followed by shoulder bones, then the rib cage and the arm bones. The skeleton held a rusty shield in one hand and a corroded sword in the other. The pelvis rose above the surface of the milk, followed by the femurs. Very little tissue clung to the bones—mainly just some rotten tendons and ligaments at the joints. After leaving the pond, the skeleton jogged toward them, bones shiny with milk residue.

“What is that?” Cole said, his voice pitched higher than he had intended.

“That is why we listen to Mira,” Jace said.

“Look the other way,” Mira said.

Several skeletons jostled one another as they exited the woods on the other side of the road. The fastest moved at a trot. A couple walked. One was missing a leg and hopped along using a spear as a crutch. All had weapons—a few swords, a sledgehammer, a crowbar, a rock.