Jinx On The Divide by Elizabeth Kay Page A
Authors: Elizabeth Kay
Tags: Fiction, Humorous stories, Children's Books, Fantasy, Juvenile Fiction, Action & Adventure - General, Magic, Fantasy & Magic, Ages 9-12 Fiction, Science Fiction; Fantasy; & Magic, Children: Grades 4-6
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travel anywhere. You should ask yourself why a jinx box wants you to travel by sleigh rather than magic carpet."
"Because it's in your best interests," said the box quickly. "We all know Rhino's in Yergud. You'd be wasting time by backtracking. And what's more, the Yergud sleigh has just arrived."
Felix could just barely see it through the shifting veil of snowflakes. He started to walk toward the door.
"Please," said Betony, dodging in front of Felix in a last-ditch attempt to stop him from boarding the sleigh. "Nimby could be in trouble."
"I'm just trying to do what's best for everyone" said Felix miserably, snapping the box shut and absentmindedly putting it in his pocket.
Betony hesitated. Then her expression softened, and she stepped aside. "I know you are," she said.
They left the store, climbed into the sleigh, and tucked the thick woven blankets around themselves. "When we get back to my world, I promise you as many cities and movies and subways as you can take," said Felix. He glanced at the
115
other passengers. There were six of them: five japegrins and a diggeluck. One of the japegrins had a harpoon. Felix looked at it with interest. The actual weapon was a small spear, which was launched by a crossbow. The spearhead itself was a pale cream, either bone or ivory, through which a couple of holes had been drilled. Through this ran a thin rope, the other end of which was attached to the bow. The rope was very long, and was carried coiled up.
"I hope we have a nice uneventful trip this time," said the diggeluck conversationally. "Not much hope of that, though."
The other passengers ignored him, tucking in their own blankets.
"Being as there's a full moon," the diggeluck continued, undeterred.
A couple of japegrins shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Felix couldn't help himself. "What happens then?" he asked. "There's a lot of howling." No one said anything.
"Let me tell you about something that happened to the daughter of a friend of mine," said the diggeluck. "She was sort of an oddball -- used to wear a red cloak. Went off to deliver a cake to her grandmother ..." and he told them a story. He followed this with another, and then another. To begin with, the japegrins reacted with a hostile silence, but gradually they mellowed and even allowed themselves an occasional laugh. There was nothing else to do -- no view to speak of, because of the snow.
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"He's quite funny really, isn't he?" said one japegrin to another. "Whoever would have thought it?"
The cuddyaks trotted along, impervious to the blizzard, and snorting now and then. The sleigh's runners made a faint whooshing sound, drowned out for a while by the rushing torrent of a river, which ran alongside the road before veering off in another direction. Everyone was huddled beneath the covers -- blankets, then skins and furs. These were nice and warm, but smelled rather rank. The cuddyaks smelled, too. It was the sort of oily smell you get on your fingers when you run them through your hair -- particularly if you haven't washed it for a while -- only stronger, and mixed with the scent of leather harnesses. After a while Felix got used to it, and it ceased to bother him.
[Image: Felix on the sleigh.]
117
The diggeluck finally ran out of stories, and then the snow stopped as suddenly as it had started, and the sky cleared.
The sunset seemed to last forever, streaking the sky with delicate pinks and blues. Eventually, the sun sank below the horizon, and it got noticeably colder. The moonlight was almost as bright as daylight, and the landscape turned to the sort of silver that's almost white and the sort of black that's almost blue. The mountains stretched into the distance, smooth snowy slopes slashed through with dark crags, and the little dwarf trees made strange lumpy shapes, their boughs laden with snow.
[Image: The cuddyaks.]
118
Felix must have dozed off, because he felt himself wake with a jerk. The most eerie sound imaginable was all
"Because it's in your best interests," said the box quickly. "We all know Rhino's in Yergud. You'd be wasting time by backtracking. And what's more, the Yergud sleigh has just arrived."
Felix could just barely see it through the shifting veil of snowflakes. He started to walk toward the door.
"Please," said Betony, dodging in front of Felix in a last-ditch attempt to stop him from boarding the sleigh. "Nimby could be in trouble."
"I'm just trying to do what's best for everyone" said Felix miserably, snapping the box shut and absentmindedly putting it in his pocket.
Betony hesitated. Then her expression softened, and she stepped aside. "I know you are," she said.
They left the store, climbed into the sleigh, and tucked the thick woven blankets around themselves. "When we get back to my world, I promise you as many cities and movies and subways as you can take," said Felix. He glanced at the
115
other passengers. There were six of them: five japegrins and a diggeluck. One of the japegrins had a harpoon. Felix looked at it with interest. The actual weapon was a small spear, which was launched by a crossbow. The spearhead itself was a pale cream, either bone or ivory, through which a couple of holes had been drilled. Through this ran a thin rope, the other end of which was attached to the bow. The rope was very long, and was carried coiled up.
"I hope we have a nice uneventful trip this time," said the diggeluck conversationally. "Not much hope of that, though."
The other passengers ignored him, tucking in their own blankets.
"Being as there's a full moon," the diggeluck continued, undeterred.
A couple of japegrins shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Felix couldn't help himself. "What happens then?" he asked. "There's a lot of howling." No one said anything.
"Let me tell you about something that happened to the daughter of a friend of mine," said the diggeluck. "She was sort of an oddball -- used to wear a red cloak. Went off to deliver a cake to her grandmother ..." and he told them a story. He followed this with another, and then another. To begin with, the japegrins reacted with a hostile silence, but gradually they mellowed and even allowed themselves an occasional laugh. There was nothing else to do -- no view to speak of, because of the snow.
116
"He's quite funny really, isn't he?" said one japegrin to another. "Whoever would have thought it?"
The cuddyaks trotted along, impervious to the blizzard, and snorting now and then. The sleigh's runners made a faint whooshing sound, drowned out for a while by the rushing torrent of a river, which ran alongside the road before veering off in another direction. Everyone was huddled beneath the covers -- blankets, then skins and furs. These were nice and warm, but smelled rather rank. The cuddyaks smelled, too. It was the sort of oily smell you get on your fingers when you run them through your hair -- particularly if you haven't washed it for a while -- only stronger, and mixed with the scent of leather harnesses. After a while Felix got used to it, and it ceased to bother him.
[Image: Felix on the sleigh.]
117
The diggeluck finally ran out of stories, and then the snow stopped as suddenly as it had started, and the sky cleared.
The sunset seemed to last forever, streaking the sky with delicate pinks and blues. Eventually, the sun sank below the horizon, and it got noticeably colder. The moonlight was almost as bright as daylight, and the landscape turned to the sort of silver that's almost white and the sort of black that's almost blue. The mountains stretched into the distance, smooth snowy slopes slashed through with dark crags, and the little dwarf trees made strange lumpy shapes, their boughs laden with snow.
[Image: The cuddyaks.]
118
Felix must have dozed off, because he felt himself wake with a jerk. The most eerie sound imaginable was all
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