Grezz sat in the other chair. He took two cups of hot tea from a small table next to him. He handed one cup to Sandy and brought the other to his mouth. “Sluurrp!”
That’s...embarrassing. Sandy, sipped softly. The tea was tasty, like a mixture of walnut, cocoanut and banana. She took another sip and scanned the pod clockwise.
Steam rose from a huge tub set in the floor near the opposite wall.
“Hot spring,” said Grezz. “Wash things. Bathe.”
A hot bath would be really good. A simple wooden table and chair sat to the right of the hot spring. Further to the right, beyond Grezz, was a passageway. To his pod? To its right was a second passageway. To another pod? Further right, behind Sandy, sat a single bed, a recess in the wall and then the pod entrance. Sandy stared thoughtfully at the warm stove for a moment.
Then she blurted, “Where am I?”
“On first-sun mountains of volcanic rimland we call Lowconzia on sphere we call Snoflia,” he replied, as if he’d expected her question.
“Oh.” Whatever all that means, thought Sandy.
“Not Earth,” said Grezz.
“Oh.”
“We Snoflians come from Snofliana, another rimland far to north.” He pointed over his shoulder. “We come here to watch for Lowconz. Lowconz live on last-sun mountains, other side of this rimland.” He nodded toward the horizon. “Lowconz have revolt. Two sides fight. Some may come this way.”
“Why this way?”
“To get to Snoflian trading point, on sea, other side of these mountains,” he replied.
“You mean they’d be, like, refugees?”
“Not be like refugees. Be refugees.”
“Oh,” said Sandy. “Would you stop them?”
“Neh. But stop Lowconz warriors who might come after them. You hungry?”
Sandy, mesmerized by Grezz’s low voice, and the permeating warmth of the pod, was caught off guard by the change in subject. Startled, she said, “Uh, yes. Thank you. I am...a bit hungry. The tea is nice.”
The female Snoflian came from the passage behind Sandy, her clothes and face no longer white, her one-piece outfit now blue and yellow, her face light pink. She carried a tray of orange, pear shaped fruit, a bowl of green porridge, and a knife and spoon. She smiled, placed the tray on the arms of Sandy’s chair, whispered briefly with Grezz, and sat by the table.
“Thank you,” said Sandy, picking up the spoon. She tasted the warm meal from the bowl. “It’s good,” she said, looking up.
“This Grell,” said Grezz, while refreshing Sandy’s tea. “She want be Gaia watcher. Can learn from you. English, maybe other things.”
“Oh,” said Sandy. English? She looked at Grell.
Grell’s pink skin had changed to match Sandy’s darker complexion.
How does she do that? Sandy looked back at Grezz. “You said you had watched me?”
“You and snake,” responded Grezz. “Wormwhirl come over us. Go up peak.” He motioned toward the mountain. “We see it drop snake. Then you. Did you chase snake into wormwhirl?”
“In a way. I was waiting in the cave for my friends to come back out of that...that swirly thing. But the snake came out instead. It tried to get me. I hit it with my backpack. You call that thing a wormwhirl?”
“Wormwhirl name we use. Also can use wormhole, whorler, wormwhorl...you choose. You said waiting for friends to come back?”
“Yes, Neff, Notch and Sparky. They were grabbed by the, uh, wormwhirl. Did they...are they here?”
“No, not here.”
Sandy’s heart sank.
Grezz looked at her curiously. “Grabbed? How?”
“We—uh, the four of us—we were following these tracks….” Sandy went on to tell Grezz how they had entered the cave and her friends got pulled in. Then she told how “the creature...er person” who made the tracks seems to have gone through after she left. “I think those Snoflian skis I used belong to it.”
“Could be our watcher,” said Grezz frowning. “Maybe wormwhirl drop your friends and watcher in lowlands. If so, they face great danger.”
“Can we help them?”
“No. Lowlands be forbidden to us. We must stay in mountains. Must wait here. If your friends come up, we can help. If not...?” He shrugged.
“Can’t you tell where the wormwhirl dropped them?”
“We track wormwhirls with mirrosensors, but cannot tell when wormwhirl drops things. We know it dropped you. We saw you fall.”
“May I ask what a, um, mirrosensor is?”
He pointed skyward. “Wormwhirl particles bounce off atmosphere. Mirrosensors in Snofliana point at sky, track particles. This wormwhirl was moored in Snofliana, before it go rogue. Mirrosensors tracked it here to Lowconzia. We were asked to watch for it. Saw you drop. Saw it go over mountain.”
“You could see me that far?”
“Mm. We see you. Snake. Snowsquall. Watch snake come after you.”
“After me?” The terror Sandy felt facing the serpent in the cave gripped her again. She shuddered.
“You try so hard to hide from us, you never see snake behind you.” He smiled. “Grell here, Sorzz and Snezz, sent snake back into woods. You not see them, either, until they let you.” He chuckled.
“I didn’t see them,” said Sandy, shaking her head. Oh, that was a stupid thing to say. They just told me I didn’t see them. “Thank you,” she said.
“Welcm.”
Sandy lowered her eyes a moment then looked up and said, “Do you think we, my friends and me, can ever get back home?”
“Cannot say. Wormwhirl may never settle. Even if does, might not take you to Gaia. For now, you must wait for your friends and our watcher, who is...?” He raised his eyebrows and turned to Grell, who looked at a small device on her wrist.
“Smylzz,” she said.
“Smylzz very young,” said Grezz, lost in thought for a moment.
Smylzz? Thought Sandy. The Snowy’s name is Smylzz?
“Long day,” said Grezz. “This pod,” he gestured around the room, “for you. My pod there,” he pointed to the passageway Sandy had guessed was his. “Grell’s pod there,” he pointed behind Sandy. “You bathe hot spring. Wash clothes, dry on line.”
Grell pulled a drying line from the wall and let it snap back.
“Behind there,” he pointed to the recess at the left of the entranceway, “toilet.”
“Comforts of home,” murmured Sandy, with a shy smile.
“We will notify Snoflia,” said Grezz, “about you, your friends and the watcher, Smylzz. You and whoever survives the jungle—if any do—will be taken by ship from the trading point to Snofliana.”
Sandy felt sad. They don’t know where Neff, Notch and Sparky are. They don’t know if the wormwhirl will ever stop. Even if it stops, they don’t know if it’ll take us, or me, home. Mom, Dad and Grandma must be sick with worry.
“You sad. Want be home,” said Grezz, “We help best can. Time to sleep now. Grell wake you at first sun. Much to do then. Rest well. You safe here.” Grezz left through his tunnel.
Grell held up a finger, as if to say, “Wait, just a moment.” She went into her passageway and came back with an armful of folded clothing and a bulky towel. She placed them gently on Sandy’s bed then left smiling.
Sandy stepped to the bed and unfolded a loose-fitting white pullover and baggy white pants. She looked over at the hot spring tub. She opened the towel. It was huge. A minute later, she was in the tub savoring the warm water. After her bath, she put on her guest apparel, rinsed out her clothes, and hung them to dry.
She crawled into bed. Downy cover. Soft pillow. So cozy. She breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to the Snoflians. She seemed to be among friends. She decided to let herself be buoyed a bit by the hope she might soon find her friends and go home.
But
then, maybe not.
She wept, homesick, for her parents, for her grandmother, and for the grandfather she never knew. She fell asleep thinking about them.
Elsewhere, though, things were about to get worse.
CHAPTER 25
Oh No!
JUNG CRAWLED INTO THE HUT at dawn, cradling a bunch of brown nuts and red berries, wrapped in a big black leaf. They dug in.
Notch shoved the fourth handful into his mouth and pulled out his smart phone, “I’m going to get a shot of some unduleels.”
“I don’t believe it!” burst Neff. “Don’t you guys ever learn?”
“It’s okay,” said Notch. “I’ll stay away from the water. Won’t be gone long.” He looked at Sparky. “Want to come?”
“I’m still eating,” said Sparky, grabbing another handful. “Besides, we have to get going. So hurry up, okay? And don’t do anything stupid.”
Notch got to the river, climbed a boulder and stood waiting, phone in hand, for five minutes. No unduleels. Guess they only hang out in pools.
He took one last look, slipped to the ground and paused. A “Thmb... thmb... thmb…” sound was coming from downstream and growing louder.
He crouched. The bow of a boat emerged from the riverbend and swung toward him.
“A boat? Here?” he mouthed in surprise. He ducked, pressed his head against the stone, waited for the craft to pass by, then peeked.
A driver, squat and muscular, face and arms green with gray spots, stood in the bow behind a big steering wheel.
A Trappid!
It glanced quickly at the far side of the river then slowly scanned along the near edge, grimacing.
Looking for us? Notch aimed his smart phone and clicked.
The driver suddenly bellowed and pointed.
Notch froze.
Two more Trappids popped up from behind the gunwale of the boat.
“Oh, no!” winced Notch, ducking, as the boat sped up. Coming back? He looked.
The boat was heading full speed toward the bank on Notch’s side of the river.
He’s going to crash.
But the boat vanished into the foliage. He heard the engine slow and stop.
“I’m out of here!” he breathed. He turned, and ran into Sparky. “Ooff.”
“Was that a motor?” asked Sparky.
“Yeah. A boat!”
“A boat? Here?”
“With three Trappids.”
“Did they see you?”
“Yeah.” Notch held up his smartphone. “I ducked, but too late. Got this, though.”
Sparky took the phone and studied the photo. “I see only one.”
“Two more got up. They went into the trees.”
“Must be an inlet there,” said Sparky, handing back the phone. “Good place to leave a boat. We have to bolt.”
They found Neff and Jung waiting outside the plant.
“Trappids,” said Notch.
Jung nodded.
“Come on,” said Sparky, stepping into the trees.
“Not that way!” croaked Notch, grabbing Sparky’s arm. “That’s where the boat went. Go the other way!”
“Notch, think!” hissed Sparky. “They’ll expect you to go the other way. You want to go where they expect? No? Okay. So we go toward them. Maybe even get their boat.”
“Get their boat? They’ll go ballistic!”
“A boat with a motor,” said Sparky, “can get us out of here a lot faster than walking. We can dump it later. Right now we have to move. And keep quiet!” He headed off.
Neff followed, then Jung.
“Trappids are bad news!” blurted Notch, stepping after Jung and suddenly realizing he had spoken. He looked up.
Sparky had turned to glower at him. “Zip it!” hissed Sparky, drawing his thumb and forefinger across his mouth.
Notch rolled his eyes, then mumbled, “Whatever,” and waved Sparky forward.
Sparky shook his head and moved on. Notch is a baby out here. He’s never had to find his way through the woods. Never had to stalk, or hide. Now he’s gotten himself seen. He’ll get us caught for sure. Maybe even killed! Sparky found a stream flowing to the right toward the river. I knew it. He stepped along the stream, toes first, in stalking mode, until the inlet appeared. He crouched.
The others joined him. The boat was there, tied to the near bank, its bow facing them.
“There’s a Trappid in the boat,” he whispered.
“Where?” whispered Notch.
“On your left, lying by the gunwale.”
“How do you know?”
“The boat is tilted. And it rocked a little. Just watch,” whispered Sparky.
Abruptly, a hand came up and grabbed the gunwale, followed by an elbow and a gray-green head. The Trappid took a gulp from a bottle, looked around and lay back out of sight.
“What’s he drinking?” asked Notch.
“For sure, not river water,” said Sparky.
Jung touched Neff’s arm. She looked at him. He pretended to take a swig, then wobbled his head, eyes half closed.
“Maybe alcohol,” whispered Neff.
“Alcohol?” asked Notch. “Here? Who’d have thought?”
“Good news for us,” said Sparky. “Alcohol will make him stupid.” He looked across at the willows. “I think there’s a way to snag the boat.”
CHAPTER 26
The Boat
SPARKY CROSSED TO THE FAR SIDE of the stream and tiptoed down the bank beneath the willows. When he was opposite the boat, he waved to Notch.
Notch stood, took a deep breath, heaved a stone toward the water and ducked.
“Ker-plunk!”
The Trappid shot up. He saw the ripples. “Hnnn?”
Sparky waved, “Sup dude?”
The Trappid glared at Sparky for a moment, dropped the bottle, “Clunk,” then clambered over the gunwale, “Ker-splash.”
Notch and Neff ran for the boat. Notch released the bow line and let it float away. Neff untied the stern rope and pulled. The bow began to swing toward the river. Jung scanned the woods for the other two Trappids.
Sparky sprinted to a tapper, grabbed hold and glanced back. The Trappid was scuttling hands and feet through the shallows. “Holy...he’s fast! He’s gonna get me!” Sparky yanked on the tapper. It didn’t move. He looked down. It was stuck into the mat. “Not now!” he screamed. He whacked the tapper with a soccer kick.
The Trappid was out of the water.
The tapper whipped out of the mat, circled Sparky’s body and jerked him upward.
The Trappid lunged.
“No!” shouted Sparky, pulling up his legs.
The Trappid grabbed Sparky’s heel for a moment then slipped away.
Sparky rose, hoping the Trappid would grab a coil and come up after him. “Come on,” prodded Sparky. “Grab the tapper....”
But the Trappid just stood there, scratching his head.
“Okay. So, you need some incentive.” Sparky shoved the tip of the tapper into his mouth.
The tapper unwound. He dropped toward the Trappid. The Trappid crouched, ready to pounce. At the last moment, Sparky spit out the tapper. The coil began to rewind. The Trappid leapt and caught the coil with one hand. The coil sagged. Sparky kicked. The Trappid let go and fell. He hit hard, sending a vibration across the mat. Something began to move under the mat from the edge of the willows and headed toward the source of vibration. The Trappid burped, got to his feet and reached for the tapper.
“Finally,” said Sparky.
The Trappid glanced back at the boat...and did a double-take. The boat had turned around, its bow facing downstream.
“Mmmm?”
Shoving the tapper away, he started for the boat. But the tapper whipped after him, wrapped around his w
aist and coiled upward.
Seizing the moment, Sparky jammed the tapper tip into his mouth and dropped past the rising Trappid who grabbed at Sparky and missed. The Trappid cursed and dug frantically in his coil for the tapper tip.
“I hope it’s under your butt,” said Sparky, rolling onto the mat. He saw a mound coming toward him. Just in time. He got up, stomped once, then softly tiptoed away. The mound paused where Sparky had stomped.
“Holy slugasaur,” gasped Notch from across the inlet, as a huge, bulbous head burst up through the mound, followed by a thick, worm-like neck. The head rolled in a circle, its tiny eyes searching the swaying tapper branches above. When it spotted the coiled Trappid, it swung its massive mouth in a wide arc, gathered the tappers surrounding the Trappid, then clamped down and leaned back, stretching the tappers to their limit.
Notch saw it coming. “Willow salad!”
The slugasaur’s mouth flew open.
The tappers shot high into the air. The Trappid bounced like a yoyo. Willow leaves rained everywhere.
“Awesome,” muttered Sparky. He turned toward the boat. If no unduleels got the Trappid, they’re probably not around. I hope. He waded warily into the water, pushed off silently and breaststroked across. He climbed the bank, turning just in time to see the slugasaur’s huge head slip back into the mound, “Shlupp,” until only its bubbling nostrils showed. It was waiting beneath the Trappid who had finally dug his way out of the coiled tapper, but didn’t dare come down.
“Nice work,” said Notch.
“Thanks,” said Sparky, grabbing hold of the bow. “Let’s get out of here.”
Neff, still holding the stern line, said, “You’d better take a look first.”
CHAPTER 27
Cages
SPARKY PEEKED OVER THE gunwale. A collection of cages sat on the rear deck, each with an animal inside.
“We have to let them go,” said Neff.
Sparky nodded. “Hope they can swim.” He climbed in.
Neff handed the line to Notch and followed him aboard. Notch followed her and pulled in the lines. Jung hopped in and squatted in the bow. The boat drifted away from the shore.
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