Changing the Prophecy Chapter 16

 

Chapter 16 Trackers

When Sonjay floated through the wall of the prison cell, he saw his body below him on the floor. His father sat cross-legged on the rug and cradled Sonjay’s head in his lap. Buttercup slept in the bed and Crumpet had nodded off in the chair, his head thrown back and his mouth wide open. He snored loudly. Beyond exhausted, Sonjay weakly attempted, with no luck, to force his locomotaported self down into his body. He felt pinned to the ceiling. He feebly fought to remain conscious. Bayard flew in through the window and squawked, which caught Reggie’s attention and he gazed upward.

“Are you there, Sonjay?” Reggie asked.

Reggie could make out the vague misty outline of Sonjay’s form as he squinted up at the ceiling. “Come on down. Here you are,” Reggie encouraged. “I’ve got you, son.” Bayard squawked again, this time closer to the locomotaported self, as if trying to herd Sonjay back into his body. His squawk woke Crumpet and Buttercup, who jumped to their feet as quickly as old people can jump, and they waved and called to Sonjay, who mustered every ounce of remaining energy he had, took aim at his body on the rug, and forced his locomotaported self to float back down into his physical self. He returned to his body with a snap only moments before he dropped into unconsciousness.

When Sonjay opened his eyes, many hours later, he found himself tucked comfortably in his father’s bed in the dim cell. He fought the weakness in his body and sat up. His empty stomach growled with hunger. Taking care not to disturb Crumpet and Buttercup, who slept on the rug, he slowly made his way to the desk and lifted a corner of the cloth that covered the glow-lamp. Beside the glow-lamp sat a fat sandwich on a plate and a large glass of juice. “We set that out for you in case you needed a midnight snack.” Reggie’s voice emerged from the darkness at the outer edge of the cell. In the dim light, Sonjay identified his father’s form in the desk chair.

“Sorry I woke you. I tried to be quiet.”

“You were plenty quiet. I wasn’t asleep,” Reggie assured him. “How’d it go?”

“I ended the siege,” Sonjay stated matter-of-factly as he took a bite of the sandwich and chewed.

“I figured,” Reggie responded. “Did you see the others?”

“Just Denzel and Maia. Dosh isn’t with them. She wound up somewhere else,” Sonjay explained. “But they know where she went. They plan to meet up at Grandmomma’s on Whale Island. We need to get out of here and meet them there.”

“I have an idea about that,” Reggie informed him.

Sonjay stopped chewing. “Hit me with it,” he said expectantly.

“You locomotaport out with that parrot…”

“Bayard,” Sonjay interrupted.

“Yes, with Bayard,” Reggie continued, “and you find the key to the cell. You can’t carry the key in your locomotaport form, but Bayard can carry it in his beak. Do you think you could make him understand that he has to retrieve the key for us?”

“Not a problem. He’s no ordinary bird.”

“Bayard brings us the key through the window. Once we leave this cell, Crumpet and Buttercup will be able to use enchantment. They’ll get us past the guards,” Reggie concluded.

“Can they use enchantment inside the Final Fortress?” Sonjay asked.

“I have learned many things about this place while in this cell. Although Sissrath has blocked the use of enchantments inside individual cells, he does not have the strength to block enchantments throughout the entire Final Fortress. If we can just get Crumpet and Buttercup outside the confines of this cell, then their enchantments will likely work,” Reggie asserted.

“Buttercup’s anyway. We can’t depend on Crumpet. Let’s hope he doesn’t turn himself into anything too large for us to pick up and carry with us.”

Reggie laughed softly, and hearing his father’s laugh filled Sonjay with happiness. He smiled, took another bite of the sandwich, and suggested, “We should go at night when they’ll have more trouble following us.”

“That makes sense.”

“In the meantime, I can locomotaport out of here to look for the key.”

“No need. I know where they keep it,” Reggie said. Sonjay finished eating his sandwich. “Get some more rest. You’ll need it,” Reggie told him.

“What about you?” Sonjay asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” Reggie said.

Sonjay went to Reggie and put his arms around him. “G’night Dad.”

“Good night, son,” Reggie responded. He squeezed Sonjay’s upper arms briefly and then released him. “Sweet dreams.”

Sonjay crawled back into Reggie’s bed, contentedly, and fell fast asleep.

In the morning, Crumpet, Buttercup, and Sonjay meditated to gather their energy for the escape. Sonjay had hardly anything in his backpack so he gave it to his father. Reggie packed the few things he would take with him from the cell where he had lived for nearly ten years. Mostly he took books, and he had trouble deciding which ones. Although Sissrath had imprisoned his body, his mind had remained free. The books that surrounded him had served as his companions and he regretted leaving so many of them behind.

Impatient to embark upon their escape, Sonjay locomotaported out of the cell with Bayard the instant the sun went down. Reggie had described for him the guard house at the top of the stairs where the keys to the cells were kept and how to recognize the one for their cell. He had no difficulty finding the key and Bayard silently picked it up off its hook in his powerful beak when Sonjay pointed to it. The guard in the guard house (not one of the aliens, but one of the Mountain People) remained engrossed in a solitaire card game and did not notice the stealthy parrot behind him. 

Before they unlocked the door to the cell, Reggie took a last look around. Crumpet patted Reggie’s shoulder and said, “May the work of the Four continue.” He and his comrades often said that phrase at times of departure. It always gave Sonjay an odd feeling when he heard it because he was one of the Four and he never knew for sure exactly what his work might entail since he made it up as he went along.

The escaped prisoners clung to the cold stone wall as they crept up the stairs. Bayard perched on his favorite spot on Sonjay’s shoulder. Buttercup threw a sleeping enchantment at the guard in the guard house. Then Crumpet led them through a maze of hallways and out into the central courtyard of the Final Fortress. They had barely emerged when a flock of skeeters took to the sky with a racket of wings, cawing loudly to alert the guards and Corportons about the escaped prisoners.

“Those infernal birds. If I could, I’d fry up the lot of them and eat them for dinner. This way! Quickly!” Buttercup ordered as she made a mad dash for the gate and their freedom. The others ran after her.

Sonjay heard a hiss next to his ear and Bayard leapt from his shoulder and took to the air in fright. Sonjay ducked as a flying snake whizzed past his head. “Yuk!” he shouted as he jumped behind Crumpet, who had turned to face the onslaught.

Three flying snakes, more than five feet in length and as thick around as Reggie’s muscular thigh, glowed phosphorescent-green in the dark. They circled back, regrouped, and then flew at the escapees.

“Reptiraptors!” Buttercup screamed, as Crumpet raised his hands to cast an enchantment.

“Why you demonic, pythonic, moronic…” Crumpet began as he drew himself up to his full height and nearly exploded in fury.

“Babycakes, no!” Buttercup shouted at him. “Restraint. Control your temper.”

Sonjay clung to the back of Crumpet’s cloak, using the large enchanter as a shield to protect himself from the attacking serpents, and he reminded his friend, “Chill. Don’t get too bent. You’ll turn into a muffin any second.” Green electric light flashed from Crumpet’s fingertips briefly and then he closed his hands into tight fists. As the reptiraptors swooped in for the kill, Crumpet pulled his arms back and then, wham, wham, wham, he punched each of those flying snakes hard, right in the nose, like Muhammad Ali in the ring. He knocked them right out. Crumpet grinned at Sonjay as the reptiraptors dropped from the air and landed unmoving on the ground at his feet. “Doing it the old-fashioned way,” he said.

Buttercup immediately subdued the guard in the guard house with her handy sleep enchantment and the four of them fled into the hillside, where a thick fog engulfed them. “Stay close,” Buttercup commanded. They followed her up a rocky slope and into the forest. Once they had reached the cover of trees, Buttercup stopped and cocked her head to listen. They could hear dogs barking in the distance.

“They’re already tracking us,” Buttercup warned.

“Dogs?” Reggie asked.

“Sounds like it, yes,” Buttercup replied. “We’ll have to keep moving and find a way to throw them off our trail.” She put her arms around Crumpet and kissed him. “You done good, babycakes. You’re not a doughnut.”

“It’s all in the feet,” Crumpet boasted. “You gotta plant your feet and then pack a wallop.”

“How well do you know this territory surrounding the Final Fortress?” Reggie asked Buttercup and Crumpet.

“Extremely well. We live in the Amber Mountains,” Buttercup replied.

“Can you take us to a stream or river or other body of water? Those dogs will lose our scent in water,” Reggie told them.

“This way,” Buttercup pointed and the others scrambled after her as she retreated further into the forest.

“How’d you know that?” Sonjay asked Reggie.

“Haven’t you ever watched any slavey-in-the-South movies, where the slaves throw the slave-trackers and their dogs off by walking in a stream?” Reggie asked his son.

“You mean like Harriet Tubman and follow-the-drinking-gourd and all that?” Sonjay responded.

“Yeah, like American history.”

“No, not really. I saw Sounder ‘cause Aunt Alice insisted that it was important for my education. Slavery is depressing,” Sonjay declared.

“It’s important to know about history and your origins,” Reggie said.

“My origin is in Faracadar, and here we don’t want to head to the North. We want to head to the South.”

The four escapees moved quickly through the dark forest, watching the ground carefully to maintain their footing. Buttercup led them down a slippery slope into a ravine, at the bottom of which flowed a wide stream.

“So now we wade in the water,” Buttercup gasped, trying to catch her breath from the rush to stay ahead of the dogs, which they could still hear in the distance. She removed her shoes and tied the laces together, strung them around her neck, then hiked her dress up over her knees and tucked it into her waistband. The others followed suit with their shoes and rolled up their pants. In their haste, they splashed water on their clothes anyway. Sonjay feared stepping on something icky in the water in the dark, but he had to move too quickly to watch carefully where he stepped. Small round stones covered the bottom of the stream and he had to concentrate so as not to tumble into the water. Reggie stumbled as his backpack full of books threw him off balance.

They staggered and slithered in the stream for what seemed to Sonjay like hours, following it as it wound between the trees rising up on both sides of them. The sound of the dogs barking and baying faded. Sonjay wondered how much time had passed since they had escaped from their cell and how soon the sun would rise.

Buttercup came to a halt. “We can’t continue in the stream,” she said. “It winds to the North and we need to go to the South. Otherwise, we’ll never get out of the Amber Mountains. We have to go toward Big House City. This stream goes in the opposite direction.”

“Wouldn’t it throw them off in their pursuit if we continue for a while in the opposite direction from what they expect?” Reggie asked.

“We won’t find any help along this stream. To the South we will find sympathetic circles of people who will help us if we can reach them. We risk cutting ourselves off from these people if we go to the North,” Crumpet explained.

“Seriously, can we get out of this water?” Sonjay added.

Reggie sighed. “OK, to the South.”

They climbed up onto the steep embankment rising from the stream.

“Listen,” Buttercup cocked her head to the side as she sat down to put on her shoes.

“What are we listening for?” Sonjay asked.

“Dogs,” Buttercup answered. “I don’t hear them anymore.”

“I’ll take that as a good sign,” Crumpet said hopefully.

After they dried their feet and put their shoes and socks back on, the soggy escapees continued through the forest. Sonjay wished he could lie down and go to sleep. He wished he had a tiger to ride. He stumbled on a root and fell forward, catching himself on his hands as he landed hard on the ground.

“Maybe we should rest,” Reggie suggested anxiously. “We seem to have put the dogs off the scent for now.”

“There are some caves I know about just up ahead,” Crumpet informed Reggie, “and we can hide in there and sleep for a little while.” It didn’t take them long to reach the caves, where Sonjay curled up gratefully on the hard ground and fell asleep instantly. He did not know how long he had slept before Buttercup shook him awake. He saw the milky-blue light of early dawn beckoning from the cave entrance.

“The dogs,” Buttercup told Sonjay urgently. “I hear them again. We need to get moving.” The escapees grabbed their belongings and hurried back into the tree-covered mountains, with Buttercup leading the way.

Sonjay heard the dogs plainly and their baying grew noticeably louder by the minute. The dogs were gaining ground.

Bayard, who flew high up overhead, squawked “trees, trees, trees.”

“Wait, stop,” Sonjay called to Buttercup. He studied Bayard, who had changed his chant from “trees” to “up, up, up.”

Sonjay announced, “Bayard wants us to climb up the trees. We should do what he says.”

“He’s a bird,” Reggie protested, breathlessly. “What does he know? Birds always feel safe in the trees.”

“Trust me,” Sonjay reassured his father, “he’s an extremely smart bird. If he tells me to climb a tree then I will climb a tree.”

“We don’t have many options,” Crumpet pointed out. “I agree with Bayard. Buttercup and I might manage an enchantment or two on the dogs from up a tree. Let’s get off the ground.”

“Up!” Bayard called urgently as he perched on a high branch in an enormous fir tree. Sonjay grabbed onto the bottom branch and began to climb toward the parrot, the sticky sap turning black on his hands as he went. The tree was perfect for climbing. The branches led one to another and Sonjay clambered quickly to the top. Even Reggie, carrying the backpack full of books, had little difficulty climbing up the tree. The four of them spread out on the firm upper branches, which held them like the arms of a friendly giant. From his vantage point, Sonjay could actually see the dogs racing through the woods. Close behind the dogs followed more pursuers than Sonjay could count.

“Look,” Sonjay pointed out to the others, “no aliens, just Sissrath’s Special Forces. I never thought I’d be happy to see them, but I’m glad it’s them and not those Corportons.”

“I hear you,” Buttercup agreed.

“Do you think they’ll see us?” Reggie asked anxiously. “Maybe the tree’s branches will conceal us.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Crumpet said. “The dogs will go crazy when they catch our scent going up the tree. They’ll know.”

“Then what do we do?” Reggie asked.

Approaching rapidly, the dogs would reveal their whereabouts to the pursuing Special Forces in a couple of minutes.

“Skaters,” Bayard squawked. “Skaters, skaters, skaters.”    

“Skeeters?” Buttercup asked Bayard anxiously as she scanned the sky. The last thing they needed was a flock of skeeters.

“No,” Sonjay said, his head cocked as he listened to the bird. “Skaters.”

“Skaters,” Bayard confirmed.

“I thought he said skeeters at first too, but he said skaters,” Sonjay informed Buttercup, and then he laughed out loud.

“What’s so funny about skaters?” Crumpet asked Sonjay.

Sonjay pointed silently.

The others followed the direction of his finger with their eyes and saw something approaching, in fact many somethings. Reggie squinted against the light of the morning sun, struggling to see what Sonjay saw. But before he understood what he was looking at, hoverboarding intuits descended on the trapped escapees and scooped them up out of the tops of the trees. It took a half a dozen of them working together to hoist Buttercup into the air between them. She laughed delightedly. Sonjay jumped onto the back of Jack’s board, which was a long board, and Sonjay set his feet and flew with Jack as he and the others followed Bayard, who flapped furiously as he led the way to the South and Big House City.

The skaters had plucked the escapees out of the treetops and flown them away by the time the trackers arrived sniffing and barking madly at the base of the fir tree. The hounds’ furious snarls and yips faded in the distance.

“How did you know?” Sonjay asked Jack.

“We’re intuits,” Jack shouted over the sound of the rushing wind. “That’s what we do. We know.” Sonjay had never heard Jack utter so many words in a row before.

“You’re not just intuits,” Sonjay answered gleefully, “you’re skaters. Best thing I ever did in this crazy land was teach you little dudes how to skateboard.”