Jinx On The Divide (21 page)

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nastiest creature I've ever met, and I've faced sinistroms and vampreys and even a riddle-paw! I was supposed to be having a vacation in
your
world, trying out elevators and escalators and double-decker buses. I was supposed to be eating apples and apricots and hot dogs, and meeting humungallies and river-fatties."

"You what?" said Rhino, laughing.

"Elephants and hippos," said Felix. "And don't you dare laugh at her. She's ten times the person you are."

"And
I've lost my carpet," said Betony, her eyes flashing. "And now Ironclaw and Fuzzy are doing something really dangerous, and ... and ..." She bit her lip.

"Well, there's one good thing, surely," said Rhino. "What was that part about unfreezing your parents?"

This was a more sympathetic remark from Rhino than Felix had been expecting.

"You don't understand, do you?" snapped Betony. "Of course I want them back. But they're going to hate what I've chosen to do with my life. They wanted me to be an herbalist, but instead I'm studying to be a historian. My brother's failed all his exams and is playing in a squawk band. My sister's OK -- but she always was the goody-goody. Mind you, she's got a boyfriend now, and he plays in the same band as my brother. It's all really complicated."

"Actually, I do understand," said Rhino. "Bill was always my mom's favorite, because he was so good at forgery. I couldn't draw a fifty dollar bill to save my life."

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"Oh, I'm sure you could do even
better
than that," said Felix. "Like drawing cash out of an ATM -- with someone else's credit card, naturally."

The brandee now known as Goodbody (or Brad Goodbody, when he needed the minimum two names necessary for a nomad) waited at the fire-breather terminal with Grimspite, who was in his two-legged lickit form. They were going to Yergud, to -- hopefully -- get the lamp from Squill, which was where the brandee-that-was had last seen it. Grimspite knew that in his four-legged form he'd have a real chance of persuading the thane to hand it over. It was amazing what a set of really long fangs could achieve.

There were a lot of japegrins boarding the Yergud fire-breather, and neither Grimspite nor Goodbody felt comfortable with japegrins. Andria was back to being a tangle-town these days, so you could be any species at all (apart from a sinistrom) and still be treated civilly. Once in Yergud, however, it would be a different matter. They asked to be seated at the rear, to enable Grimspite's smell to waft backward. Naturally, he had drenched himself in the peribott cologne he favored, but it would wear off before the flight reached its destination. They were nearly the last to climb aboard. They both wrapped themselves up in their thick woolen cloaks; since Yergud was at a much higher altitude than Andria, it would be a lot colder. Grimspite's cloak was, of course, lickit-white. Goodbody's was black. The final

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passenger almost didn't make it -- he had come in on another flight, which had been delayed. He had also invested in a heavyweight cloak, which was purple, so he must have been another japegrin -- but he had wound a scarf around his face so that only his eyes were visible. When he was finally seated, the pilot was able to order the fire-breather onto the runway.

Initially, the trip was uneventful, and Grimspite and Goodbody passed the time by flicking through the in-flight magazines, drinking spiced milk, and eating the little complimentary packets of nuts. Goodbody couldn't wait to try fermented fertle juice, but the caterers had run out. This was probably just as well, because he hadn't gotten used to all his bodily functions yet, and some of the ones below the belt were taking him by surprise. He hadn't realized that bits of nut could get stuck between his teeth, either.

"Vattan sounds interesting," said Grimspite, passing him a toothpick. "If you like fish, that is, and I do."

They were climbing steeply now, and the ground below was white. Grimspite hadn't traveled to the north before, and he thought the frozen waterfalls were really beautiful. It was so nice being able to appreciate beauty; this had only happened since he'd acquired free will. They flew into something called the Icicle Pass, the only official flight path through the mountains, which enabled them to avoid having to go right over the top. There was a fair amount of traffic, and they passed three other fire-breathers and a triple-head. The pass

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was very narrow, and the fire-breather's wingtips occasionally grazed the branches of the little trees that clung to the rock face, shivering snow down onto the path below.

Grimspite had been ignoring the snatches of conversation that he was catching from the japegrins seated in front of him, until one of them mentioned the name
Snakeweed.
He tried to prick up his ears, forgetting he was in lickit mode, and merely succeeded in waggling them.

"Disappeared, apparently," said the speaker. "This ragamucky went in to clean his room, and -- gone."

"Who'd steal an enchanted body?" asked the second japegrin. "You couldn't exhibit him, because everyone would know he'd been stolen."

"Maybe he isn't unconscious any longer," said the first japegrin.

"Oh, don't talk nonsense. A spinning-wheel hex lasts for a hundred years. How did you hear about it?"

"A carrionwing told me."

"Oh, you can't trust anything
they
say. No better than ragamuckies."

"Or diggelucks."

"My mother used to have a half-and-half chimney sweep," mused the first japegrin. "Half ragamucky, half japegrin."

"Disgraceful," said someone. "I know. Anyway,
she
said ..."

Before he could elaborate, the fire-breather went into a dive, and some of the other passengers screamed. Grimspite

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felt as though he'd left his stomach behind; the icy wind rushed past his face and blew off his hood.

"This is fun!" shouted Goodbody, who had no idea that feeling as though you'd left parts of your body elsewhere was unusual.

Grimspite caught a sudden glimpse of a carrionwing, flapping desperately to get out of the way of the fire-breather -- then the two creatures collided and tumbled to earth.

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***

12

***

"Everyone OK?" shouted the pilot, as the fire-breather's passengers stood up and brushed the snow from their clothes.

Grimspite found himself tangled together with the japegrin in the purple scarf. For a moment their eyes met, and Grimspite wondered if his cologne had already worn off. A good hard sniff persuaded him it hadn't, but he nevertheless disentangled himself as quickly as he could. Someone's wand was lying in the snow, and the japegrin picked it up. For a moment he stood there, looking at Grimspite; then he turned abruptly on his heel, handed the wand back to its owner, and had a coughing fit. He seemed to be in delicate health, and was using his scarf to cover most of his face and warm the icy air before he breathed it in. Grimspite buttoned up his white woolen cloak, and wished he were in his four-legged form so that he could really appreciate the snow. He could just imagine rolling around in it and snapping at the snowflakes that were drifting down. There weren't a lot

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of them, but they awakened the hunter within him the way a swarm of juicy flies would have.

The fire-breather itself was lying on the path at the foot of the pass, winded. The carrionwing touched down a moment later -- she'd had the presence of mind to use her wings as a parachute, so she had made the final descent with a bit more dignity. Then she spoiled the effect by stubbing her toe and swearing loudly, fluently, and imaginatively.

Something metal hit the rock face with a loud clunk, rolled a little way, and rocked back and forth a couple of times before coming to rest.

"I don't
believe
it," cried Brad Goodbody. "It's my lamp, I know it is. I'd recognize it anywhere," and he dashed over to the foot of the escarpment and picked it up.

The pilot was trying to get the carrionwing to consider a compensation claim.

"Don't talk guano," said the carrionwing. "No one's been injured."

"That was dangerous flying, that was, and in a mountain pass as well. You were the one traveling north to south -- you should have dropped down and yielded the right-of-way. I want your name."

"Scoffit," said the carrionwing irritably, glancing down at one of her forelegs. There was a leg pouch strapped to her ankle, but the lid was open and it was empty. She glanced around.

The nomad in the black cloak was trying to hide something

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in his clothing, but he wasn't fast enough. The magic lamp glinted a dull and depressing gold in the weak wintry light.

"I saw you!" screeched the carrionwing. She hopped over and peered into his face. "Well,
rot my offal,"
she said. "You have the look of someone just released from bondage. I know it well -- I free creatures from predator hedges all the time. If they're dead already, I eat them, of course."

"I used to be a brandee," said Goodbody, clutching the lamp to him. "I'm a nomad now."

"And that was your lamp, I gather."

The fire-breather was back on its feet, and everyone else was getting ready to re-embark. "We're leaving!" shouted the pilot. "Are you two getting back on board, or what?"

"We don't need to," said Grimspite. "We got what we came for."

"Hold on," said Scoffit. "My life's at stake here. I'm supposed to be taking that lamp to Kaflabad, to get it fumigated. The Thane of Yergud is using me as a courier. If I don't deliver that lamp to K'Faddle and Offspring, Squill will have me plucked for sure."

"We'll figure something out," said Grimspite. "I'm not quite what I appear to be."

The fire-breather broke into a run and took off.

Scoffit sniffed. Then she sniffed again. After that she started to back away. "You're darned right you're not what you appear to be," she said, her face turning a chalky white. "You're not a lickit at all. You're a sinistrom."

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"My name is Grimspite," said Grimspite, "and these days, I'm a writer." He transformed himself back to his four-legged form, and tried to look sweet. It was something he hadn't quite managed yet, but he was working on it.

There was a very long pause, when no one said anything.

"So what now?" asked Scoffit finally, when it was clear he wasn't going to disembowel her. "Am I supposed to hope that Squill forgets all about the lamp?"

"Join forces with us," said Grimspite. "We're on a very important mission. We have to destroy the jinx box inside that lamp before it runs riot with some powerwords."

"Oh, come on! Powerwords don't really exist."

"It was a powerword that turned that brandee over there into a nomad," said Grimspite, and he told the carrionwing the whole story.

"There's something I don't understand," said Scoffit. "Even if powerwords aren't just a myth -- and I suppose the evidence
is
right here in front of me -- I thought the only beings who could use them were the ones who invented powerwords in the first place.
Human
beings. But you used one. And it worked."

"He spent a year in the other world, didn't he?" said Goodbody. "Maybe some humanity rubbed off on him. He doesn't like disemboweling things anymore. I don't think the speaker
has
to be a human being, though -- just a mythical beast."

"I think I became one," said Grimspite. "A mythical

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being called a bonecrusher. They call them hyenas in the other world, where they really exist. I suspect that if I'd been in lickit form when I spoke the powerword, it wouldn't have worked. But because I was in my four-legged guise -- and I had free will, just like a
real
hyena -- I was as effective as any human being."

"Why don't you just destroy the lamp?" said Scoffit. "Then the jinx box will be destroyed as well."

Goodbody stiffened. "You can't do that!" he said. "There's a whole library in there, some rare plants, and a magic cataloguing pen." A strange expression crossed his face. "I've got a really unpleasant feeling in my stomach."

"You're hungry," said Scoffit.

"But there's nothing to eat," said Goodbody, grimacing as another hunger pang hit him.

"That's how life is, sometimes," said Scoffit. "Pretty often, actually."

"What's that rumbling noise?" asked Goodbody, clearly shaken by the unexpected things his flesh-and-blood body was doing. "Is it my stomach?"

"I don't think so," said Grimspite. "I can sort of feel it through my paws. As though the landscape itself is angry about something."

Much to Felix and Betony's surprise, the two brazzles returned from the crater in no time at all, screeching with mirth.

"My dad is
ultra
smooth," giggled Fuzzy, who was sporting