The Magical Flight of Dodie Rue Read online

  Dodie rubbed his chest again. “Let’s just say I know a little magic.”

  “Well, I underestimated you, Rue,” Zinnia said. With that last remark, she sped off in a northeast direction.

  Two other racers followed her as more appeared on the horizon.

  “Idiot!” Dodie yelled at himself for lingering too long. “Let’s fly!”

  Phoenix zoomed away from the tomb, the screams below soon fading in the distance. He noticed Zinnia, Atallah, and Nye up ahead. Atallah was showing off by weaving in between the tall rock columns. Nye kept trying to close the gap between himself and Zinnia. Behind Dodie, the remaining racers struggled to catch up.

  It was almost noon, so Dodie kept his eyes peeled for the pit stop. Already he could see the hazy outline of Quillian’s Pass miles ahead. As he climbed up over a large boulder and surfed down the other side, he saw the pit stop. A yurt was stationed beside a still pool of water, the rocks, clouds, and blue sky reflected in its tranquil waters. Zinnia, Atallah, and Nye skidded to a stop, and Dodie was not far behind.

  “How stupid can you be?” Atallah was saying loudly. “You think some racer from the past is gonna camp out in a tomb all this time? It was obviously a ghoul.” He yanked off his head mask and knelt beside the shallow pool.

  Dodie hopped of Phoenix and joined Zinnia by the pool. She took her sandals off and dipped her small feet into the water. Dodie noticed Nye watching her closely, particularly her feet, and he elbowed her.

  “What?” She looked at him.

  “Your feet might give you away,” he whispered to her.

  Zinnia caught Nye studying her, and hastily tied her sandals back on.

  Dodie pulled off his mask, knelt down, and lapped up water with his hand. The water was cool and sweet, and he drank more.

  “How did we catch up to you, Rat Scat?” Atallah took a drink. “You stopped for the ghoul, didn’t you?” He chuckled.

  “Mind your own business,” said Dodie, straightening up.

  Atallah glared at him. “You still haven’t thrown up. What’s the deal?”

  Dodie ignored him and lapped up more water.

  “Well, whatever’s the deal, you’re only as good as your tricks.” Atallah tied his sandals back on. “And no one can win this race on tricks alone. You don’t belong here. You belong down on the ground in the alleys catching rats. And that’s where you’ll stay after my father owns you and your family. Except for Taj, cuz he’ll be dead.”

  Dodie snapped, and charged at Atallah. He head-butted him in the stomach, and knocked him to the rocky ground. It took Atallah a moment to recover his surprise, which allowed Dodie an opportunity to punch him in the jaw. But then Atallah fought back and Dodie didn’t stand a chance because Atallah was quick and strong. He pinned Dodie down and repeatedly punched him in the face, the chest, and the shoulders.

  “Cut it out!” Zinnia screamed, forgetting to hide her high voice. No one heeded her.

  The other racers encircled the two fighters on the ground, whooping and clapping.

  Dodie curled up in a ball and covered his head with his arms. He was no match for Atallah.

  Finally, Atallah stopped, tired and sweaty. He straightened up and sniffed.

  “Rat Scat,” he muttered, dabbing his bloody lip where Dodie had hit him. He strode off to the yurt in search of food.

  The other racers dispersed to grab food and water.

  Gingerly, Dodie got to his feet and stumbled over to the pool where he checked his reflection in the still water. His jaw was swelling, his nose was bleeding, and his cheek bones already had bruises. He groaned and softly bathed his face. He avoided looking at Zinnia when she came up beside him.

  “So that was stupid,” she muttered.

  Dodie snorted, then winced. “Yeah, really stupid.”

  “He said some pretty low things.”

  Dodie didn’t say anything.

  Zinnia reached into her waist pouch and handed him a tiny jar. “This’ll help.”

  Dodie used his finger to rub the creamy ointment into his wounds. He immediately felt the achiness, stinging, and throbbing begin to lessen. He gave the jar back to her. “That stuff’s amazing. You get it from an alchemist?”

  Zinnia tucked the ointment back in her waist pouch. “It’s an old family potion.”

  Together they quickly grabbed food from the yurt, more bread and bananas, and ate. The other racers were already unrolling their carpets. Dodie took one more drink of water, then mounted Phoenix. He tried not to groan as he pulled on his facemask. His whole body was feeling sore. He hoped the next few miles to Quillian’s Pass would be smooth so he could recover more. His ribs hurt when he tucked his knees under him, so he lay flat on his belly. He made an easy takeoff, not wanting to get jerked around by a sudden one.

  Zinnia was right: fighting Atallah was stupid.

  Chapter 9

  “A little wager, gentlemen?” Atallah was buzzing around the other racers as they ate up the miles across the Dead Lands.

  “What did you have in mind?” Nye called out in a deep voice.

  “A race to Quillian’s Pass,” replied Atallah, gliding alongside Nye. “First one to reach the opening gets a five second head start into it. Everybody in?”

  Several nodded their assent.

  Dodie moaned. He did not feel like racing—wait, they were already doing that! But he wasn’t about to be the only racer not man enough to agree.

  “Everybody line up!” ordered Atallah.

  The racers, still flying through the air, edged into position side by side. Dodie took the end place farthest away from Atallah. He wanted to avoid any unnecessary contact as best he could because he wasn’t feeling too great. The sun was at its peak, blazing high in the hazy blue sky, and there was no breeze to counter the heat. Billowing clouds were moving in like a thick blanket overhead, trapping everything in a humid covering. The rocky landscape gave off a visual temperature, making the heat feel more intense than it might have been. Dodie’s tunic was soaked through, and he wanted to rip off his head mask. His face was throbbing in the places where Atallah’s fist had connected, and he wished he could apply more of Zinnia’s ointment. Removing his head mask was a risky move with sand, bugs, and small pebbles on the loose, so he gritted his teeth and tried to hone in on the canyon a few miles ahead.

  “It’s on!” shouted Atallah.

  Everyone blasted off. Being this was the first time all the racers had all started at the exact same time, Dodie found it interesting to assess them all. Three racers from the eastern village of Bruna immediately fell behind—not due to their lack of skill, but to the poor quality of their racer rugs. Dodie felt some family pride when he noticed that the racer rugs purchased from Rue’s Rug Emporium had shot into the lead.

  He kept his distance from the other racers as many started to employ some dangerous moves. Nye streaked past a racer like a bolt of lightning, his black and red carpet scathing the racer’s head, which sent the racer toppling off his carpet to the earth below. Dodie looked back to watch the racer slam into a towering rock column, bounce off a few feet, then crash to the stony ground. Dodie cringed, doubting the racer had survived.

  Dodie felt more confident as Phoenix effortlessly moved into the lead without him having to do much. The other racers noticed this. Out of the corner of his eye, Dodie saw Atallah speeding closer to him.

  “Curses,” Dodie muttered under his breath.

  Phoenix’s speed alone wouldn’t be enough. He had to apply some skill, but the trouble was he had few tricks in his bag.

  “Let’s see whatcha got!” Atallah crowed as he narrowed the gap between their carpets, then dipped hard to the left.

  Dodie recognized the move—Atallah was going to thread him. Dodie leaned sideways to the right. The undersides of their carpets touched as they tried to thread on each other. Dodie held his
position as they zoomed on together, then he felt a push. Atallah was trying to force him downward. Dodie pushed back.

  He knew if Atallah gained just a few more inches of elevation it would be over. He felt Atallah’s carpet rise, so he rose with him. Atallah started to level out, trying to crush down on him. Dodie felt himself leaning back, and knew he was dangerously close to turning upside-down. He could feel his knees losing contact with his rug.

  He hated retreating from Atallah, but it was better than falling off his carpet. He would have to pull back, and let Atallah take the lead. Dodie growled in frustration.

  He was about to pull his carpet up when he saw another solution ahead. A rock column stood directly in their path. Atallah would have to break free.

  He heard Atallah curse as they rushed toward the rock tower. Feet before hitting it, the two carpets peeled apart, Sky Cleaver veering left and Phoenix careening right.

  The quick split was all Dodie needed. He cleared the rock mast and coaxed a burst of speed from Phoenix. To his surprise, he noticed that he and Atallah were still in the lead.

  Atallah kept glancing at Dodie, his eyes narrowed. Dodie, for his part, wanted to take control and attack Atallah, but he lacked the confidence, so he merely sped ahead and kept a watchful eye on his opponent.

  Quillian’s Pass was fast approaching now, and the opening looked narrower than Dodie had anticipated. It was more like a crack in the mountain side, big enough for only one racer at a time to go through. Dodie was imagining all the racers crowding to get into the canyon when he suddenly noticed how close Atallah had come to him. He was so close Dodie could smell his sweat. He braced himself for Atallah’s next move.

  Atallah suddenly kicked out his leg to the side.

  Phoenix responded before Dodie did, and rolled up her side to deflect the kick. This gave Dodie a chance to swerve away, but in doing so, Atallah took the lead and blasted into the canyon first. Dodie came to a sharp stop just outside the narrow opening.

  Atallah cruised around to face him a few feet inside the canyon. “I win! Remember, it’s a five second head start! No cheating or you’ll be sorry. Nice flying with you, Rat Scat!” He laughed, turned around, and disappeared behind a boulder.

  Dodie counted. One . . . two . . .

  Nye pulled up behind him.

  . . . three . . .

  Next came Zinnia.

  . . . four . . .

  As more racers arrived, they all looked around at each other, thinking the same thing: who would be next to enter Quillian’s Pass?

  “Five!” yelled Dodie.

  Nye spun like a top, causing everyone to back away. Then he streaked through the narrow opening and disappeared.

  Dodie and Zinnia wasted no more time, barreling past the other racers and into the canyon. Dodie stayed ahead one carpet distance from Zinnia. He was impressed with his own aggressiveness.

  For the first few miles, Quillian’s Pass was too narrow for passing, forcing the racers to fly single-file. The canyon walls loomed high enough to block the sun and cast shadows. The ground below was a dry riverbed, and sharp boulders jutted out here and there, creating a precarious obstacle course. Dodie started to feel a little claustrophobic, especially with the thickening cloud cover sealing him in overhead. Atallah was nowhere in sight, and Nye was several yards ahead. At this rate, they both would likely clear the Pass and arrive at the checkpoint first. At least Dodie was next in line with Zinnia riding his tail.

  Randi tried to pass Zinnia a few times by going higher or lower, but each time she matched his move and blocked him from passing her. Dodie wondered if she would try to pass him. A few minutes later she did just that. She rose a few feet above him, trying to pass overhead, but he jetted up and blocked her. He thought he heard her giggle, and he chuckled.

  “Something’s gotta give soon,” Zinnia told him. “I’m getting tired of riding your butt.”

  Dodie grinned. “Get used to it!”

  “I saw you threading with Atallah. Not bad.”

  “Thanks.” Dodie felt a tickle of pleasure—she had been watching him. “You’re not bad yourself.”

  “I know,” she was quick to reply. “No offense, but I’m better than you.”

  “Let’s see,” Dodie barked as he increased his speed.

  Ahead the canyon started to widen just a little. Dodie waited for Zinnia to make her next move as he let her edge up beside him.

  He leaned sideways. By now he was feeling more comfortable with threading, and he gave her no time to respond. With his right hand, he shoved her out of the way, and heard her give a surprised yelp. He glanced back, saw she was okay, and took a large lead as the Pass narrowed again.

  They didn’t speak to each other for the next hour.

  As they flew on and on, Dodie was growing weary with the scenery, and wondered how much longer he had to fly trapped in this canyon. He was not the only one feeling this way, for the other racers looked less tense. Randi was sitting up on his knees with one hand gripping his loop. Behind him, Bae stretched out on his belly, while another racer sat cross-legged and dug in his waist pouch for his compass. Dodie’s legs were stiff and his back ached. He really wanted to stretch, but he couldn’t afford losing his position. Plus he didn’t want to give Zinnia another reason to think less of him.

  Dodie’s eyes wandered around, and he noticed several openings in the canyon walls that he took to be caves. He was surprised to see them marked with rugged Qs carved into the stone, and he remembered the note on his grandfather’s secret map: Refuge Q.

  In the late afternoon, the weather rapidly changed. Dark, fast moving clouds made the sky gray and the sunlight dull, but did not lessen the heat. A gusty wind suddenly picked up from the south and whistled up through Quillian’s Pass. Everyone readjusted his position and braced himself against the wind. Dodie detected a faint rumbling sound behind him in the distance that was gradually growing louder. He had no idea what it was. Thunder perhaps? The wind grew stronger, blowing sand and debris, and Dodie had to squint against the dust. The rumbling sound was getting closer to them.

  “Sand storm!” Randi cried from behind.

  Dodie turned just in time to see the racer at the very end of the line get swallowed by a sandy cloud. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A thick wall of sand was rushing through the canyon straight after them. It was traveling at an incredible speed, and devouring everything in its path. Its force was sucking the racers back into its grasp. Two more racers got whipped backward and disappeared into the cloud.

  “We can’t outrun it!” Zinnia screamed behind him.

  Dodie started to panic until he spotted a Q carved above an opening up ahead on his right. “Follow me!”

  The sand storm took out Bae, and was fast approaching.

  Dodie held on, and struggled to keep his speed. He felt the wind sucking him from behind. Phoenix quivered.

  “Grab hold of Phoenix!” Dodie ordered Zinnia. “Do it!”

  Zinnia grabbed one of Phoenix’s back tassels. Phoenix lurched with the extra weight. Dodie kept his eyes on the Q ahead. Almost there. Zinnia shrieked, the sand storm right behind her.

  “Ahhh!” Dodie dove into the hole marked with the Q.

  Seconds later the sand storm tore by, engulfing the canyon in a dark swirling cloud.

  Chapter 10

  Dodie braked suddenly, causing Zinnia to ram into him from behind. For a moment, they sat on their hovering carpets, panting heavily. Dodie could feel Zinnia’s heart thumping on his back as she leaned on him. He was sorry his back was sweaty, but he liked having her so close. She started laughing, her voice a little shaky, and she slowly sat up.

  Dodie turned around to face her. “What’s so funny?”

  Zinnia pulled off her head mask, her face glistening with sweat. Dodie had almost forgotten what she looked like—he hadn’t seen her without her m
ask since first crashing into her. She was prettier than he remembered, with large brown eyes and thick lashes.

  “How in the world did you know there was a cave here?” She looked shocked.

  Dodie gingerly peeled off his head mask and attempted a grin, but his face was too sore. “None of your business.”

  Zinnia laughed again and scooted off her rug. Amethyst rolled up.

  Dodie did the same and stretched his arms high. “Ouch.” His hands scraped the rocky ceiling of the cave.

  With the foggy light from outside, he could just make out the ceiling, but could not see how deep the cave went. He joined Zinnia at the opening to watch the sand storm rage outside.

  “How long d’ya think the storm will last?” he asked.

  Zinnia shrugged. “Sand storms are unpredictable. Could be minutes or hours.” She sat down and leaned against the wall.

  “How come you know so much?” Dodie asked as he plopped down across from her and leaned against the wall. “About ghouls and sand storms and potions.”

  Zinnia smiled. “I used to live abroad. My father was a traveling alchemist.”

  “Was?” Dodie prodded.

  Zinnia gazed out at the storm. “A few months ago he disappeared. He went on a business trip to the Capital, but never made it there. I went looking for him along the route he had traveled, but I could find no sign of him.”

  “Do you think . . . your father’s . . .”

  “Dead?” Zinnia met his gaze. “I’m choosing to believe he’s still alive. I’ve already lost my mother, I can’t think about losing my father.”

  Dodie nodded. “My mother died, too. It’s always been just me and my dad and grandpapa and brother.”

  Before he could stop himself, he rambled on about how his father was constantly stressed about the business and hardly there; and how his grandfather was crippled and did his best to hide his deep sadness over it; and how his brother always looked out for him and made him feel less bad about being afraid of flying. Here he bit his lip, but Zinnia immediately pried about this. He relented and told her about Binni’s potion—which she found fascinating, being an alchemist’s daughter and all. Dodie quickly turned the conversation back to Zinnia’s father.