The Wrong Side of Magic (9 page)

They both checked the compass face. It read
FOREST OF POSSIBILITIES, GRAMMARIA, MERMAID LAKE, GIGANTICA.
The needle rested against
FOREST OF POSSIBILITIES
.

“Why did the Sea of Life turn into Mermaid Lake?” he asked.

“It didn't. The compass shows you which lands are closest. We landed in a spot that was nearer to the Mermaid Lake than to the Sea of Life.”

“It's not showing the warnings,” Hudson said. “Does that mean there's nothing dangerous around?”

“No, it just means there's no trolls, giants, tyrants, or drowning hazards around. The compass only warns you about the most troublesome thing in each land.”

Charlotte took the compass from Hudson, tilting it to better see the face. “Show us the way to Princess Nomira.”

Hudson watched the compass. Nothing happened. The needle didn't budge.

“Is it supposed to answer back?” Hudson asked.

Charlotte let out a snort of laughter. “Of course not. Compasses don't talk. The needle isn't moving because it doesn't know the answer.” As though to prove her point, she asked, “Which way is Grammaria?”

The needle swung to point at the pathway in front of them.

Hudson felt a flush of heat creep into his cheeks. “Well, how am I supposed to know how the compass works? Everything is so weird here.”

This made Charlotte snort again. “It's your world that's a weird shadow of mine.”

“A shadow?” Hudson repeated, vaguely affronted.

Charlotte set off down the pathway toward Grammaria, and Hudson kept pace beside her.

“Our worlds have lots of similarities,” she said. “But my world came first, so yours must be the copy—the nonmagical version.”

“How do you know your world came first?” He kept his gaze on the trees, watching for anything out of the ordinary—which was hard to do in a world where everything seemed out of the ordinary.

“You need words to create things, and that's what Logos is based on. Words.”

Hudson wasn't sure he could follow her logic, let alone refute it. How could anything be based on words?

“My dad thinks that your world was populated by people who were banished from mine. Sort of like the prison colony in Australia. It's natural for you people to want to copy Logos.”

“We don't want to copy your world,” Hudson said. “We don't even know about it.”

“Most of you don't,” she agreed. “Can you imagine the people who would pour into Logos if they knew?”

Knew about what?
Hudson wondered.
The trolls? The giants? The tyrant king and his evil wizards? Yeah, there'd be a real rush
. “So how are we going to find the princess?”

“We'll need to ask one of the magical folk to help us, someone who can see through wizard spells.”

“Okay.” Hudson shifted his backpack to make it more comfortable. “Who would know where she is?”

Bluebirds flew across their path and disappeared into a nearby blue tree, blending in with the leaves. “The Dust Might is an expert on hidden things. He probably knows where she is.”

“The dust mite?” Hudson repeated. “Aren't those tiny bugs that get into your mattress and eat dead skin?”

“In your world they're tiny,” she said. “In Gigantica they're really big.”

Great. The last thing he wanted was to go talk with a huge creepy bug that lived on dead skin.

“The problem with the Dust Might,” Charlotte went on, “is you never know whether he'll help you. He might or he might not. He might also decide your skin is dead enough for his tastes and you look really appetizing.”

“I don't think we should go to Gigantica,” Hudson said. “Isn't there someone smaller and less violent who could help us? How about the mermaids?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Guys always want to talk to the mermaids.”

Hudson shrugged. “It's just a suggestion.”

Another eye roll. “Mermaids don't know anything except how to apply lip gloss. They're incurable flirts.”

Incurably flirting mermaids didn't sound like such a bad thing, but Hudson didn't say this. Charlotte obviously didn't like mermaids, and besides, he was here to find the princess and get rid of the mirror, not to socialize with new species.

Charlotte looked off into the distance, thinking. “The castle courtyard in Grammaria has magical statues that can answer questions, but King Vaygran and his wizards live in Grammaria. What if someone recognizes me?”

Hudson gestured to her brown curls. “You're disguised.”

“My voice is still the same. And besides, wizards have revealing powder. It counteracts disguise paste.”

Hudson looped his finger through his silver four-leaf-clover necklace. “I thought these protected us from wizard spells.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Revealing powder isn't a spell. It's a magical substance. Our necklaces prevent wizards from turning us to stone, or into beetles, or levitating us so we can't escape. Things like that.”

“Wizards sound like fun guys.”

A wind blew through the trees, and their leaves shimmered in a rainbow of colors. Pinwheel flowers along the path whirred and spun in the breeze.

Charlotte paid no attention to them. “Sometimes the king's wizards sprinkle revealing powder on people who come into the castle courtyard, checking for enemies or criminals.” Her gaze shot to his. “Hudson, you haven't committed any crimes, have you?”

He tilted his head in disbelief. “Yeah, Charlotte. Every once in a while, when the mood strikes me, I hot-wire a car and hold up a few convenience stores.”

“I asked,” she said pointedly, “because revealing powder not only strips away any disguises you have, it also lists any crimes you've committed on your forehead.”

“How does it know what crimes you've committed?”

“It's magic,” she said in a tone that indicated that the answer was obvious.

He wanted to say,
That wasn't a stupid question where I come from.
Instead he said, “I haven't committed any crimes, so I can go to the castle courtyard alone. No one will recognize me.”

“True,” she said, still hesitant, “but you might mess things up.” She held up a hand to ward off his protest. “Nothing personal. You're from the Land of Banishment, which means you don't think clearly.”

This from Charlotte, the girl who thought you could buy happiness in a soda pop bottle. “I think clearly,” he said.

“How many times did the compass tell you to beware of trolls?”

Fortunately, she didn't actually expect an answer to that question, because he didn't want to give it.

A rumble of footsteps sounded in the forest behind them, and Charlotte turned toward the noise. “Oh, good. Unicorns have come.”

Hudson didn't turn to them right away. He was afraid they would be the same unicorns he'd seen before. He didn't want to face those ones, or find out if they remembered him.

Charlotte waved her hand happily. “Huzzah, noble unicorns!”

Hudson slowly turned. Two unicorns trotted toward them, manes flowing, horns glinting like crystal in the sunlight. A gray one and a tawny one, like before. Hudson shifted so he stood behind Charlotte.

The gray unicorn gave his mane a particularly dramatic swish. “Welcome to the Forest of Possibilities, fair purple-lipped maiden. What is your quest?” Both unicorns came to a halt in front of Charlotte. Up close, the unicorns' coats shone, glimmering silver on the gray unicorn and gold on the tawny one.

Charlotte curtsied. “We wish to find Princess Nomira and free her.”

The gray unicorn gave a whinny that almost sounded like laughter. “A valiant, if not foolishly hazardous quest. I can tell you're pure in heart. We shall gladly carry you through the forest.”

Charlotte curtsied again, making her brown curls bob up and down. “We would be so grateful for a ride to Grammaria. May I have the honor of your names?”

“I am Cecil the Silver,” the gray unicorn said, and motioned his horn toward the tawny unicorn. “This is my brother, Nigel the Gold.”

Definitely the same unicorns. Maybe if Hudson didn't say anything, they wouldn't remember him.

The tawny unicorn addressed him. “And what is your name and quest?”

Hudson bowed so low he nearly tipped his backpack over his shoulders. “I'm Hudson,” he mumbled. “I'm helping Charlotte.”

Both unicorns lowered their heads, examining him. Cecil sniffed near his shirt. “Say, aren't you that bloke we saw earlier—the one who took a swing at me?”

“Um, sorry about that.” Hudson hurriedly added, “I'm a lot purer now.”

The unicorns tilted their heads toward each other, conferring in quiet voices. “A person doesn't change from impure to pure so rapidly,” Cecil said.

“It's possible, but not probable,” Nigel agreed.

Hudson tried to catch their eye. “I've reformed. Really.”

“Mark my word,” Cecil said, ignoring him. “If we take the boy, he'll be nothing but trouble. Human boys are always throwing rocks and setting things on fire.”

“Rude behavior will get you nowhere in life,” Nigel added. “And it especially won't get you anywhere on a unicorn's back.”

Cecil glanced at Hudson out of the corner of his eye. “He's with the girl, though. She must need him for something, or she wouldn't have brought him.”

Hudson cleared his throat. “I won't throw anything. And we didn't even bring matches.” Which, come to think of it, was probably an oversight on their part. Wouldn't they need to make a campfire at some point?

Nigel made one of the snorting noises horses make. “He probably came because he's hoping for a reward from the princess. The impure only go on quests if they've something to gain.”

Hudson opened his mouth to protest, to say he'd never even thought about a reward, but it wasn't quite true. Getting rid of the troll mirror was his reward.

“Charlotte needs my help,” he emphasized, and looked to her for support.

“It's true,” Charlotte put in. “He's, um … carrying some of my things.”

Neither unicorn paid attention to them. “We might as well carry him,” Nigel said. “Otherwise, she'll have to wait at the edge of the forest for him. And besides, if we're attacked by a dragon, I'll buck him off. That way the dragon will be too busy devouring him to come after us.”

“Hey,” Hudson said, then stopped himself from protesting more. He didn't want to walk all the way to the edge of the forest.

The unicorns turned back to them. Nigel swished his tawny tail. “We agree to carry the boy, as well.”

“Thanks,” Hudson said stiffly.

Cecil bent down on one knee so Charlotte could take hold of his silvery mane and pull herself onto his back.

Hudson waited for Nigel to do the same. The unicorn only huffed out a breath. “I don't kneel before the impure. You'll have to take hold of my horn.” Nigel lowered his head so the long horn pointed at Hudson's waist.

“Okay.” Hudson took hold of the horn. It was as smooth as a polished stone and felt as solid. “How is this going to—” He didn't finish. Nigel tossed his head back, flinging Hudson upward through the air. Startled, Hudson let go of the horn. He flipped over the unicorn's neck and landed on his back, stomach down and facing the wrong way.

The breath was knocked from Hudson's lungs. For a moment he couldn't do anything except groan and lie there.

“Hmph,” Nigel said. “And to think you took a swing at me. I daresay we know who would have won that fight.”

Hudson didn't reply. Slowly, he pulled himself upright. Nigel didn't wait for Hudson to get situated before he started down the path, and Hudson slid one way and then the other as he turned around.

“Hold on tightly,” Nigel told him.

Hudson nearly fell and grabbed onto Nigel's mane. “I'm trying.”

“Trying and bothersome, but I suppose I have to put up with you.”

When Hudson was finally able to get his balance, he didn't let go of Nigel's mane. He wouldn't put it past the unicorn to buck him off, even if a dragon wasn't around.

Charlotte and Cecil were trotting in front of them at a fast pace. Charlotte began singing, and the melody drifted back to Hudson, clear and strong. He didn't know the tune, but it was nice. Happy. He'd never realized she had such a pretty voice.

“Well,” Nigel said. “Aren't you going to sing for me?”

“I thought unicorns only liked to hear girls sing.” In fairy tales, a maiden's song could tame a unicorn.

“Girls usually have more pleasing voices,” Nigel said. “However, I was giving you the benefit of the doubt. Do you know any ballads?”

Hudson didn't usually sing in front of other people, but if it would put Nigel in a better mood, he'd give it a try. “I only know rock songs and Christmas carols.”

Nigel neighed disapprovingly. “Rock is so uncivilized. Carols, on the other hand, have a festive ambience to them. Let's have one of those.”

Whatever it took to make the horse happy. Hudson took a deep breath and sang out, “
You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen—
”

“We've met,” Nigel said.

“Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen—”

“They cheat at cards, you know.”

“But do you recall the most famous reindeer of all?”

“According to Donner, he is. And he'll tell you so, too.”

This was not going how Hudson had expected. Nigel's commentary kept making him falter. Louder, Hudson sang, “
Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer had a very shiny nose, and if you ever saw it, you would even say it glowed.
”

“How unfortunate. Did he see a vet? Sounds like a glowworm infection.”

“All of the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names.”