Eye of the Forest
Page 32
A little later on John said to her, “Just tell me one thing. Is Dybbuk dead?”
“No,” she said. “Yes.”
“Well, which is it?” he demanded.
Philippa thought hard for a moment and felt her eyes fill with tears again. The memory of what she had seen in the lost city of Paititi would, she knew, stay with her forever.
“He chose,” she said. “Unwisely.”
“What does that mean?” said John.
“What I mean is that I think the Buck we knew is dead. There is another Dybbuk now. A different Dybbuk. A bad Dybbuk. Full of evil, like his father.”
“I was afraid of that,” said Nimrod.
“Me, too,” said John, and walked sadly away.
“We should call home,” said Philippa.
“I already did,” said Nimrod. “Your father is rescued. Your mother is with him now, at home.”
“Thank goodness.”
“Thank goodness, indeed,” said Nimrod.
CHAPTER 28
DOING THE RIGHT THING
After Pizarro’s conquistadors and the mummified Inca kings had finished cutting each other to pieces, and peace reigned once more in the rain forest, Sicky was made chief of the Xuanaci in an impressive and lengthy ceremony that was attended by Nimrod, John, Philippa, Groanin, Zadie, Muddy, Hector the dog, and Virgil McCreeby, as well as many members of Sicky’s own tribe, the Prozuanaci. Even poor Mr. Vodyannoy felt sufficiently recovered from his contact with the poison dart frog to come out of his lamp and attend, albeit briefly.
After the ceremony, Zadie decided not to come back to New York with the others but to remain in the rain forest and work with the Xuanaci.
“I know I was hypnotized and all that,” she said. “But I really feel I ought to do something for them. With a little bit of djinn power, I was thinking I might set up a school.”
“Good idea,” agreed Nimrod. “But you’ll need a good teacher to help you.” He looked at Virgil McCreeby.
“No,” said McCreeby. “Nimrod. You can’t be serious.”
“I think it’s a very good idea,” said Nimrod.
“Me, too,” said Zadie.
“Have a heart, Nimrod,” protested McCreeby. “Me a school teacher? Can you imagine it?”
“As a matter of fact, McCreeby,” said Nimrod, “I happen to know that you were once the headmaster of a boys’ school in Switzerland.”
“Yes, but that was a long time ago. And the boys were Swiss. You can teach the Swiss anything, except perhaps how to be late.”
“I’m sure you will do a very good job here,” said Nimrod. “You shall stay here with Zadie and help her set up the school. Consider it your punishment. A punishment that Zadie will strictly enforce.”
“Count yourself lucky that we don’t let the Xuanaci put your head on a necklace,” said Groanin. “Or feed you to them piranha. Or put a giant Peruvian centipede down the back of your shirt collar. Do the right thing for once, man.”
“Just be careful he doesn’t try to hypnotize you again,” Nimrod told Zadie.
“It’s all right. I’m wise to him now. I know all his little tricks.”
When Philippa and John had finished saying good-bye to Zadie, they hugged Sicky and wished him luck in his new job. Sicky choked back the tears of emotion he felt at being parted from all his new friends.
“Come back anytime,” said Sicky. “We’ll give you a real jungle welcome.” His head may have been unusually small, but there was nothing wrong with his heart.
“Muddy,” said Groanin, shaking the boatman’s hand. “It’s been a pleasure. I say, it’s been a pleasure.”
“I heard you the first time,” said Muddy.
“What will you do now?” asked Nimrod.
“Now that Sicky is an important chief, I’m going to give up being a chef.”
Groanin nodded his approval. “Believe me, you’re doing the right thing. In my opinion, you were a terrible cook. What will you do now?”
“Me?” said Muddy. “I’ll take over Sicky’s business as a tour guide.”
And it was Muddy who took them back to Manu, where they awaited a plane to fly them to Lima.
“It will be a while before those lupuna trees we planted have grown and any of us djinn can safely fly by whirlwind again,” said Nimrod. “Of course, I suppose Philippa could take us home just by stamping her feet if she wanted to.”
“No, I couldn’t,” explained Philippa. “The gestalt shoes. I buried them somewhere in the jungle.”
“You did what!” exclaimed John.
“It was too much power,” said Philippa. “It’s hard enough just being a djinn without having to cope with those slippers as well. I just had to think a thing and it happened instantaneously. I simply couldn’t stand the responsibility. I’m sorry, but we’ll have to take a plane home like anyone else.”
Nimrod nodded gravely.
“Did I do the right thing?” she asked, and found herself being hugged tightly by her uncle.
“It takes great wisdom to know when one has too much power,” said Nimrod. “Great wisdom and a great soul. So, yes, Philippa, you did do the right thing.”
“But what about Paititi?” John asked. “What about the radiation levels on the mountain? What about the Eye of the Forest? Suppose someone goes through the Eye? Won’t they be in danger?”
“Yes, they will,” agreed Nimrod. “Which is why Sicky and the Xuanaci have agreed to stand guard over the door. To prevent anyone from accidentally entering the Eye. He’s also going to lock the door. This should do the job until we can figure out something more secure.” Nimrod held up two sturdy-looking brass combination locks.
“Did you make those with djinn power?” asked John.
“No,” said Nimrod. “As a matter of fact these belong to Groanin. They were on his suitcase.”
Groanin pulled a face. “Them baggage handlers at Heathrow Airport,” he said. “You can’t trust them.”
“I’m sure that can’t be true,” objected Philippa.
“It is. I know. I used to be a baggage handler at Heathrow myself.”
Several days later, Uncle Nimrod, Mr. Groanin, Mr. Vodyannoy, and the twins arrived back in New York.
Mr. Vodyannoy went immediately to his apartment in the Dakota building, where Nimrod had arranged for Marion Morrison, a djinn nurse, to come and look after him. (And within three months he was quite well again. Well enough to host another Djinnverso tournament at his house in New Haven.)
The others went straight to the Gaunt family house on East 77th Street, where the twins found both their parents waiting for them. Mr. Gaunt looked none the worse for his experience at the hands of his kidnappers. Mrs. Gaunt just looked fabulous, which is to say, very glamorous and exactly the way the twins remembered her. Even Mr. Groanin said how good she looked.
There was, however, one minor difference. For once it seemed to be their diminutive father who was in charge. Mrs. Gaunt seemed more deferential to her husband than before, although only her brother’s keen eye spotted this and suspected what it denoted.
When the twins had finished hugging their parents and telling them all of their adventures, Nimrod made his excuses and the two Englishmen checked into the Carlyle Hotel around the corner, which was Nimrod’s favorite hotel in the world.
“I don’t know about you, Groanin, but I’m hungry,” said Nimrod.
“I could eat a horse,” admitted Groanin.
“Would a nice juicy steak, smothered in onions, do instead?” asked Nimrod.
“A steak would certainly hit the spot,” said Groanin. “As long as they do it the right way, mind. Knowing how to do the right thing in a kitchen, well, how else is civilization to measure itself?”
But after they had eaten the steaks, which were excellent, Groanin found something else about which to complain.
“I just wish I’d taken a little more time to say good-bye to those kiddies,” he said. “I miss them already. I say, I miss them already. Why did
you hurry us out of there so quickly?”
“Because,” said Nimrod, “I decided that the right thing to do would be to leave the reunited Gaunt family to itself. You see, my dear Groanin, that is all that any happy family — no matter how peculiar — really needs. To be left to itself.”
“Sounds like the start of a novel,” said Groanin. “Or perhaps the end of one.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
P. B. Kerr was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, where he developed a lifelong love of reading. Although the Children of the Lamp books are P. B. Kerr’s first for children, he is well known as the thriller writer Philip Kerr, author of the Berlin Noir series, including most recently, The One from the Other, A Philosophical Investigation, Gridiron, The Shot, and many other acclaimed novels. Mr. Kerr lives in London with his family. You can visit him on his Web site at www.pbkerr.com.
OTHER BOOKS IN P. B. KERR’S CHILDREN OF THE LAMP SERIES
THE AKHENATEN ADVENTURE
THE BLUE DJINN OF BABYLON
THE COBRA KING OF KATHMANDU
THE DAY OF THE DJINN WARRIORS
THE FIVE FAKIRS OF FAIZABAD
THE GRAVE ROBBERS OF GENGHIS KHAN
Copyright
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Copyright © 2009 by Thynker Ltd.
Cover art by Petar Meseldžija
Cover design by Elizabeth B. Parisi
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First paperback printing, January 2010
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e-ISBN 978-0-545-30160-2