A World Without Heroes by Brandon Mull Page B

infielder. What year are you in school?”
    “I skipped a grade, so I’m in ninth. But I’m homeschooled. I only go to school to run track.”
    “How do you skip grades when you’re homeschooled? Mom just decides to shorten her teaching career?”
    She scowled. “My classes are much harder than anything in public schools.”
    “If you say so. What track events?”
    “Hurdles and pole vault.”
    “Pole vault?” Jason repeated, impressed. “You must have some guts.”
    “I like trying new things,” she said.
    “I’m long past convinced,” the Blind King inserted. “Judging from your inflections, I would say you speak English in a similar manner, and based on your intonations, I feel confident that you’re both telling the truth. But I already knew that. Consider the exercise a lesson in vigilance. Without extreme caution you will not survive. Shall we eat?”
    Jason started transferring meat to his plate. “What’s your name?” he asked the girl.
    “Rachel,” she replied, spooning vegetables onto the Blind King’s plate, then helping herself. “You?”
    “I’m Jason.” Following her example, he shared several cuts of pheasant with the Blind King.
    “Don’t mind me,” the Blind King protested. “My table is set in such a fashion as to enable me to feed myself. Eat your food and get acquainted.”
    “Can you believe we’re actually here?” Rachel asked as Jason made a small pile of mashed vegetables on his plate.
    “I’ve had a hard time getting used to all of this,” Jason admitted, trying a bite of pheasant. “Did you get swallowed by a hippo too?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Jason came into our world through the jaws of a hippopotamus,” the Blind King explained. “The residue of very old magic. There is no rarer or stranger portal connecting our realities.”
    Rachel pursed her lips. “What, the way I came here was typical?”
    The Blind King shook his head. “In these times any visit from a Beyonder is virtually inconceivable.”
    “You came through a different way?” Jason asked.
    “I was hiking with my parents,” Rachel said, her eyes losing focus. “We were in Arches National Park, in southern Utah.”
    “But you’re from Washington,” Jason said. “Let me guess—the vacation schedule for homeschool is flexible.”
    “I actually have less vacation time than most kids,” Rachel corrected. “Homeschool is portable. My parents are big on firsthand experiences. We do lots of field trips. Museums. Foreign countries. National parks. They’re big on nature.”
    “I’ve always wanted to travel more. Do you speak other languages and stuff?”
    Her eyes lit up. “I love languages. I speak pretty fluent French and Spanish. I’m okay at Italian and Portuguese. And I can sort of get by in Russian, Chinese, and a couple others.”
    Jason gave a low whistle. “You’ve been to all those places? Italy and China and everywhere?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Sounds like you guys have some money.”
    “Dad made a lot as a software designer. He’s semiretired. I’m an only child.”
    “You were telling how you came here,” the Blind King prompted.
    “Right,” Rachel said, raking her fingers through her dark brown hair. “Dad had hired a local guide to take us off the beaten path. He drove us around in a jeep through some amazing country. Have you been to Arches?”
    “No. I’ve been to the Grand Canyon.”
    “Me too. The Grand Canyon was just a big hole in the ground. Arches and Bryce Canyon seemed much cooler to me. They’re full of these awesome spires and bridges made with stones in all these crazy colors.”
    “You should write a travel guide,” Jason said dryly.
    “Anyhow, our guide was taking us to some smaller stone arches. The kind you can’t find on maps or drive to on a road. He parked beside an arroyo—that’s what he called a ravine—and we walked from there. The arroyo branched in a couple places, and while we were stopped for a snack at one point, I saw this