by Maya Grace
But that boy was about to blow their cover. And if they didn’t get out of there fast, they’d end up back in the jail cell in the basement of the blacksmith’s shop.
The boy raised his hand to his mouth, about to call for help.
Then Ella heard a yowl and saw a flash of orange fur. The cat pounced, pinning the boy to the ground. She didn’t hurt him, but she wasn’t about to let him up, either.
When the boy let out a cry of surprise, Ella felt a tug on her arm.
“C’mon!” shouted Rowan. “Run!”
As they raced past the well, Ella felt eyes upon her. And when she glanced down, she realized why. Her legs were visible—only her legs. Wait, now her hands were too. The potion was wearing off!
At her feet, she saw a silver tail and Taiga’s paws, racing across the earth. And up ahead, Rowan’s red ponytail sailed through the air behind her invisible head.
“Run!” Rowan called again as she glanced over her shoulder, which had suddenly reappeared.
Ella heard footsteps behind her. The villagers were running now, too, giving chase.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack’s hand digging in his backpack. He pulled out a bottle and unstopped the cork.
“Jack, no!” she cried.
What was in the bottle? What kind of damage would it do? “These are villagers, not mobs!” she cried again. Even if they’re chasing us. Even if they’re angry!
But Jack didn’t listen. He hurtled the bottle through the air. It hit the ground beside the well, releasing a cloud of bubbles, forming a magical curtain. And one by one, the villagers ran through it.
Lingering potion, Ella realized. Jack had used it in the Taiga, too, to fight the zombie pigmen. To harm them.
Was he harming the villagers too?
As they plowed through the curtain of bubbles, the villagers kept running—as if in slow motion. Their arms and legs moved, but ever so slowly. Like Rowan, back in the swamp, when she’d been hit by the witch’s potion.
“Potion of slowness!” Ella cried out.
And Jack, whose face was fully visible now, smiled wide.
The potion wouldn’t harm the villagers, but it would sure slow them down.
When Ella reached Gran, she and her cousins kept running. Gran wouldn’t let them stop. And as Ella looked up, she saw that the flock of parrots was moving with them.
The birds rose from the village like a cloud of dust or a swarm of angry bees. And then they began to fly, following Ella and her family.
Away from the jungle village.
Alongside the stream.
Back toward the swamp.
Toward home, Ella realized. I’m so ready to go home!
CHAPTER 15
“In here!” Gran called from the entrance to the cave.
“Come inside. Hurry!”
They had made it to the water’s edge, and walked for an hour along the steady stream. But the sun was sinking again—already. And mobs would be spawning soon.
Gran lit a torch and began clearing leaves and twigs from the floor of the damp dugout.
As Ella stepped inside, she searched all the shadowy spaces, checking for cobwebs or glowing red eyes. Listening for a hiss or a groan. She didn’t want to be surprised by a mob again, not after everything that had happened on this journey.
Rowan must have felt the same, because she quickly piled stones near the entrance—to keep unwelcome guests out. Then she spread out her cape on the ground like a picnic blanket, and Gran pulled some bread and fish from her backpack.
But when a mew sounded from outside, Ella leaped back up. She quickly rolled a stone away from the entrance, gazing through the crack like a peephole. When she saw what was outside, she pushed more stones away, clearing a path.
Jack’s ocelot stood in the doorway.
“You can come in,” she said soothingly. But the cat wouldn’t move—until Jack squatted and held out his hand. Then slowly, cautiously, she stepped into the cave.
This time, Taiga didn’t growl or even bark. He didn’t so much as whimper.
“Good boy,” Ella whispered, giving his neck a scratch.
“Who’s this now?” asked Gran, holding her torch high above the spotted ocelot. “Would you like to introduce us, Jack?”
“She’s mine,” Jack said proudly. “But she’s hurt.”
He pointed toward the broken arrow. Gran studied it, as if seeing it for the first time. And her face changed. “I think I know this cat,” she whispered.
Jack’s head swung around. “You do?”
Gran nodded slowly. “I recognize her now. She belonged to your mother.”
What? Ella tilted her head. Had she heard Gran right?
“She was hurt during the Uprising,” whispered Gran. “She’s carried that broken arrow for nearly eight years.”
Ella’s stomach clutched. Had this cat been with Jack’s mother when she died? Did the ocelot take an arrow trying to protect her person, the way Taiga nearly took an arrow today for me? she wondered. Her throat tightened, and she reached again for her wolf.
The cat brushed past Gran’s legs, as if to say, Hello again. It’s been a long time. Then it stretched out on the floor next to Jack and began to groom its fur.
Jack looked as if he couldn’t quite catch his breath. “What did my mother call the cat?” he asked. “What’s her name?”
Gran smiled. “Ask her,” she said. “Maybe she’ll tell you.”
As Jack gazed into the ocelot’s green eyes, she gave a slow, contented blink.
“Lucky,” he said, sitting back up. “Her name is Lucky.”
Gran nodded. “Very good, Jack. She was your mother’s good-luck charm. And now, maybe she’ll be yours too. She helped us today, didn’t she?”
Jack nodded and slowly stroked the cat’s head until she purred. “Can we help her too?” he asked, pointing toward the arrow.
Gran stared thoughtfully. “I hope so,” she said. “We’ll try, when we get home. But remember—you’re the healer, you with your powerful potion of Healing. Your mother would be proud, Jack.”
He nodded, and unzipped his backpack. “I collected everything I could,” he said. “Everything her journal told me to find.”
As he dumped the contents of his pack onto the ground, Ella gazed in wonder.
Slimeballs.
A bottle of gunpowder.
Carrots.
Cocoa pods.
Pufferfish.
Sugar cane.
Spider eyes. Gross!
A gold ingot.
At the sight of the ingot, Ella remembered the treasure chest. “Jack found me this book too!” she said, digging it out of her pack. “For enchanting Rowan’s trident.” She held up the book, which lit the cave with its purple glow.
“And my saddle,” said Rowan. “Jack found that too.” She patted the saddle, which she was leaning against like a chair.
“Did he now?” asked Gran. “Maybe soon, that saddle will get some use.” She winked at Rowan.
Would Rowan find her horse, the way Jack had found his ocelot? The way Gran had found her parrots?
Gran’s parrots were gone now. They had settled onto a fallen log at the edge of the jungle, bobbing their heads up and down as if saying goodbye.
“The jungle is their home,” Gran had said. “But they’ll be right here, if we need them again.”
Gran summoned an army of birds, thought Ella. Will my cousins and I lead great armies of animals one day too? Like Gran, and like our parents?
Ella didn’t ask the question out loud. The thought excited her—but also terrified her.
Then she caught sight of Rowan’s trident leaning against the cave wall. I didn’t think I could fight with it, Ella remembered. But when the skeletons came, I did.
Her gaze flickered over to Jack, who was sorting his potion ingredients. I didn’t think he could survive out here all on his own, with nothing but his potions, she remembered. But he did!
So maybe, just maybe, th
ey would both lead great armies one day. And what about Rowan?
Ella looked at her red-headed cousin and grinned. Yes. Rowan too. Especially brave Rowan.
But for now, Ella was content to curl up with Taiga, in a warm cave lit by Gran’s torch, with the family she loved most—all of them, together now.
She buried her face in her wolf’s warm fur and sighed.