The Magical Flight of Dodie Rue

by F. C. Shaw

  “We sold them all,” Dodie felt himself deflating. “And I can’t ride Taj’s unless he passes ownership to me. He’s not even conscious right now!”

  Nadar glided over to Dodie. “You need a rug that knows the race, and has enough magic to fly itself when you don’t know how.” He paused, his eyes sparkling. “You need Phoenix.”

  “Really, Grandpapa?” Dodie smiled.

  “Yes!” Gamal thundered out of the room. A minute later he thundered back carrying a rolled up carpet under his arm. He gently set the carpet down, something of reverence in his touch. With a nod at Dodie, he whispered, “Go on.”

  “Wait, I must pass ownership to you.” Nadar glided over to Dodie, grabbed his hand, and pressed it on the rolled up racer rug. “I hereby give Phoenix to you, Dodie Rue.”

  Dodie swallowed. With his hand over the carpet, he whispered, “Phoenix.”

  With lightning speed and a cloud of dust, the magic carpet unrolled, causing everyone to jump back. It was woven with the colors of fire: burning red, vibrant orange, and brilliant blue, creating a flame pattern that was outlined in gold. The carpet stood perfectly still, suspended in the air about a foot off the ground. It stretched flat, as if invisible hands were pulling it taut.

  Nadar smiled, his eyes glistening with tears. “She’s yours, Dodie.”

  Dodie rested one knee on the carpet and found it steady. He pulled his other knee on and leaned low. He gripped the gold braided loops at the top, and fixed his eyes on the window. He had barely finished thinking the command to the carpet when Phoenix shot out the open window.

  Dodie heard his family’s whoops of excitement as he climbed higher in the morning sky. The air was cool and fresh as it whipped through his hair and tunic. He had never ridden anything as fast and smooth as Phoenix.

  He spent the next hour trying everything: turns, loops, takeoffs, landings, riding on his belly, riding up on his knees, riding on his back—he even tried threading. Phoenix skimmed walls and rooftops with no effort, and Dodie found his confidence in the carpet mounting. He had never had so much fun in his life. And best of all:

  He didn’t puke once.

  Chapter 4

  The rest of the day was spent in a frenzy as they got Dodie ready for the Grand Flyer. Nadar cut Dodie’s hair very short, and got to work altering Taj’s racing tunic to fit Dodie’s much shorter and stockier body. Gamal serviced Phoenix with a good cleaning, dusting, and inspection. He also asked Lord Hadi if Dodie could replace Taj in their wager, and Hadi more than happily agreed. Dodie packed Taj’s small waist pouch he would wear in the race: small knife, compass, hourglass, and map scrolls. He got Binni to make more potion for him to take. Then Dodie spent hours getting briefed on race tactics by Nadar.

  “The Grand Flyer covers five hundred miles in three days,” said Nadar as he shuffled through the race maps on his lap. “This year’s race starts just outside of town by the Wishing Well, and finishes just outside the south wall of the Capital. It crosses the Fringe, goes through the Dead Lands, and follows along the Siren Sea. You can expect sand storms, thieves, and ghouls, among other things.”

  Dodie swallowed.

  Nadar continued, “You must reach each check point by sunset of each day, or you will be disqualified. At each check point you will find fresh water, food, and a campsite to sleep. But don’t sleep too soundly, for you can’t trust anyone and you never know who or what might be lurking in the shadows waiting to rob you . . . or worse.”

  Dodie gulped.

  “You are not allowed to leave the check point until sunrise of the next day or you will be disqualified. There are pit stops along the way where you can stop to get water and food. Fly within sight of other racers, for there is strength in numbers, but don’t hesitate passing them to get ahead—use your judgment. Stay high enough to gain some lead, but don’t fly too high or you’ll get blown off course by the Boundary and be disqualified—trust Phoenix and let her set the pace.”

  Dodie held his head in his hands and meant to grip his hair, but found it was too short now.

  “The first racer to reach the Capital before sunset on the third day wins the genie’s wish and the treasure.” Nadar added, “And the racer must be riding the carpet under his ownership.”

  Dodie nodded, trying to remember everything he was being told. “Any other rules?”

  “Well, females aren’t allowed to race, but that doesn’t apply to you,” Nadar chuckled. “Dodie, the most important thing to know about and the most dangerous aspect of this race is that out on the course there are no rules.”

  Dodie looked up at his grandfather. “What?”

  “There are no rules, no regulations. Anything goes. Use this to your advantage, both to win and to prove your character. Decide what kind of racer you will be.”

  “What kind were you?”

  Nadar shook his head. “You’re not me.” He held out a small scroll to Dodie.

  Dodie took it. The parchment was soft and dusty with age. Carefully he unrolled it to find a faintly drawn map. “Is this a map of the Grand Flyer?”

  “Not exactly.” Nadar leaned closer and lowered his voice. “This is my own map of secrets I accumulated through the years during my races. Use it to your advantage, and don’t let anyone else see it.”

  Dodie tucked it inside his waist pouch. “Anything else I should know?”

  Nadar looked down at him, his wrinkles creasing. “Know who you are. You are Dodie Rue astride Phoenix. You are racing for your brother’s life.”

  Dodie couldn’t fall asleep, though it was well past midnight.

  What had he gotten himself into? Why did he ever think that he could race in the Grand Flyer and even hope to win? What was he thinking when he told his family he would do it?

  He looked over at Taj, now asleep on his side and breathing heavily.

  He had only been thinking of saving Taj and his family’s business, and it had given him a courage he had never known. He hoped that courage would stay with him when he took off at dawn.

  Eventually Dodie awoke to Nadar nudging him. He had gotten only four hours of sleep, but it was better than nothing. He was already dressed in his racing clothes to save time. Nadar had done a good job of altering Taj’s white linen tunic, leggings, and head mask, all of which had to be fitted skin-tight. Dodie could still smell his brother’s scent on the clothes, and it comforted him. Before heading downstairs, Dodie stopped by Taj’s bedside.

  “Listen,” Dodie whispered softly as he grasped his brother’s clammy hand. “You’re supposed to be racing today, and you’re supposed to be the next Rue legend—not me. I’m doing this for you. And if I win and make it back alive, I won’t owe you another favor ever, got that?” He gave Taj’s hand one last squeeze, and added, “I told you the Seer is a liar.”

  His eye spotted the little good luck charm Taj had bought him. He grabbed it from the end table between their cots. When he noticed a tiny hold drilled into the top of the clay charm, he searched for a thread. He plucked a loose string from Taj’s tunic and threaded it through the tiny hole. Then he tied the reddish charm around his neck, and slipped it beneath his tunic. It felt cool against his heart.

  He bounded downstairs.

  Gamal and Nadar were waiting for Dodie in the shop. No words were said. Gamal carried the rolled up Phoenix on his shoulder, and led them down the street. As they passed the alchemist’s house, Binni joined them.

  “Here’s your dose for today,” said Binni in a hurried whisper. “It’s good till sunset.”

  Dodie threw back his head and gulped down the pink potion. It stung his throat.

  As they neared the village gate, they joined a quiet crowd heading for the starting line. Dodie spotted Atallah and his father Lord Hadi walking with their heads held unnaturally high. The baker’s son Randi was fidgeting with his waist pouch with trembling hands. Axel showed up sporting
a bruised and puffy face from his fight with Nye at the Magistrate’s Banquet. Bae was already at the starting line over the hill.

  A section for spectators had been roped off behind the starting line, which was marked by a long row of tall torches stuck in the sand. The firelight played an eerie game of shadows and light. Magistrate Oxard, along with the Magistrates from the other four villages, stood under a yurt snacking on grapes and waving to various people as they arrived. As more competitors and spectators joined, the crowd got louder and more excited.

  And Dodie’s heart thumped faster.

  “We better say our farewells here,” said Nadar. “The racers will be lining up any minute now.” He grabbed Dodie in a smothering bear hug. Dodie inhaled his grandfather’s scent, which was the same dusty smell of the carpet shop.

  “You can do this,” Nadar said firmly, fixing Dodie with his eyes. “Keep Taj in your heart, your eyes ahead, and your grip on Phoenix.”

  Dodie managed a half-hearted smile.

  Gamal patted him on the back. “Be safe,” was all he said.

  A loud gong sounded from the yurt where the Magistrates stood.

  “That’s the signal to line up,” Nadar told him. “Our village is on the left. Go!”

  Dodie shouldered Phoenix, took one last look at his family, then turned and did not look back. He followed the other racers to the torch-lit starting line. On the left end he found Atallah and the other racers unrolling their carpets. Dodie unrolled Phoenix, and when he did, he heard an audible gasp from the crowd. This gasp soon rose to an uproar of excitement as the spectators and competitors recognized Dodie’s legendary carpet.

  Atallah noticed Dodie, and grimaced first at the flame-colored carpet and then at Dodie. He quickly masked his surprise. “Why are you bothering to race me? A glutton for punishment, huh?”

  “I have to race,” said Dodie curtly, trying not to squirm from the whole crowd’s attention on him.

  “Your dad might as well sign over the emporium to my father,” Atallah continued with a nasty grin. “Don’t worry—you can always be our servants when you’re destitute.”

  Dodie felt his face heating with anger.

  Atallah chuckled and addressed the other racers. “I’d stay clear of him—he pukes when he flies.”

  Randi inched away from Dodie.

  The sky was lightening in the east, the stars fading like phantoms. The crowd grew restless with anticipation. More racers continued to line up and unroll their carpets behind the row of torches. Each racer rug had its own unique design and color scheme. Many were jewel-toned with elaborate gold or silver embellishments, but some stood out, especially Phoenix and a black and red carpet ridden by Nye.

  Dodie’s heart was now racing, his arms were tingling, and his stomach was churning. If he hadn’t taken Binni’s potion, he knew he would already be vomiting. He suddenly had an urge to run away and forget the whole race.

  But he couldn’t forget Taj. So he turned around, clenched his fists, and set his eyes on the east.

  A second gong sounded, and all the racers mounted their carpets. Atallah adjusted his waist pouch so it rested on his lower back. Randi pulled on his head mask. Axel inhaled and exhaled several cleansing breaths. Bae whispered a prayer. Dodie gripped his carpet’s loops.

  All eyes fixed on the east where Turah lay. The sun was clearly rising, bathing the desert in new sunlight. The crowd was suddenly silent. The yurt flapped in a light breeze, and somewhere from the village a donkey brayed.

  Any moment now the sun would peek above the rooftops.

  Any moment now the magic carpets would shoot off in the blink of an eye.

  Any moment now Dodie would be racing in the Grand Flyer.

  He could feel the charm engraved with a flame pressed against his heart, and for the first time he wanted to believe in its good luck.

  Dodie’s breathing quickened. His palms were sweaty. He was worried about takeoff, about going fast enough, about not falling off. He also wasn’t sure when exactly to take off. At the first sight of the sun, or when the whole sun had risen?

  His eyes darted at the other racers on either side of him. He would just follow their lead for this first takeoff. Then he would—

  Whoa!

  A blast of wind and a cloud of sand engulfed him, blinding him. The crowd screamed and cheered. Dodie coughed and blinked his eyes open. He was the only one behind the torches.

  Takeoff had happened.

  Chapter 5

  The crowd roared at him to go.

  “Go, Phoenix!” he shouted, but the magic carpet had shot up before the words were out of his mouth.

  The force of takeoff pulled Dodie’s legs out from under him. He gripped his carpet as they gained altitude. He remembered what Nadar had told him about going too high, and the higher he climbed, the gustier the air turned. If he hit the Boundary set over the race course, he would be blown away for miles and be disqualified. He needed to take Phoenix down a bit. The magic carpet obeyed his thought and made a smooth dive. Dodie tucked his knees under him and scoured the sky for the other racers. He saw no one ahead of him, and he could no longer hear the crowd behind him. Turah was rapidly disappearing in the past. Ahead and below him lay the Fringe, a vast desert of gentle sand dunes.

  The sun continued to rise to his right, which meant he was heading north, so that was good. He remembered from the race course map that this first day he would cover the Fringe and cross the dune range. On the other side of the range was the first checkpoint he had to reach by sunset. He was not off to a good start. He wasn’t just in last place, he was virtually in no place.

  “What’ll I do?” groaned Dodie to himself.

  He suddenly remembered the secret map his grandfather had given him. Slowing Phoenix down momentarily, he reached behind him into his waist pouch. He found the old scroll of parchment and opened it. His eyes swept over the faint map of the area, and read a few of the nearest locations marked. One caught his eye: Emergency Stash of Stardust. Yes! Stardust gave the racer rugs their incredible speed—could even double their speed for a few hours. Perfect!

  It was hidden in an oasis palm tree a few miles west of his location. Deviating from the course to stop there would waste even more time, but it was a chance he had to take.

  Dodie stuffed the scroll back in his waist pouch, grabbed the braided loops on Phoenix, and leaned to the left. Picking up speed again, he flew across more desert until he spotted a clump of green. He circled over a half dozen palm trees, looking below for any sign of people or animals. Seeing nothing but trees, he sailed down into the oasis and landed beside a small pool. He hopped off his carpet, pulled off his head mask, and looked about him.

  The oasis was cool, deserted, and quiet. Dodie checked his grandfather’s map once again for directions to the tree which hid the stardust stash. There were no details except a red star drawn next to the words Emergency Stash of Stardust. He shouldered his carpet, which had rolled up instantly upon his dismounting, and searched each tree.

  The morning sun rose higher in the sky as he became increasingly more frantic. He was just entertaining the idea of returning home and calling it quits when his eyes caught sight of a red mark on the last and furthest tree trunk. Hurrying over to it, he saw that it was the same star as on the secret map. He gave a laugh of relief and set Phoenix down. Now where was the stash of stardust?

  He walked around the narrow trunk, rapping his knuckles up and down it. The tree did not sound hollow.

  Whoosh!

  Dodie ducked as a palm frond swept past him, and crouched on his hands and knees. There was no breeze, so Dodie assumed this palm tree had been tampered with by an alchemist just like the ones in Turah. That was odd.

  Dodie scuttled on his hands and knees, and searched the base of the trunk. He dug up the sand, thinking perhaps a secret hole could be hidden in the roots. Nothing appear
ed. Where else did that leave?

  Whoosh!

  The palm frond swept over his head.

  Dodie looked up to the top of the palm. Of course! His grandfather would not have wasted time landing, he would have flown up to the branches.

  “Phoenix.” Dodie hopped on his carpet and jetted up. He hovered closer to the top of the palm tree.

  The tree seemed fully aware of Dodie now, and fully bent on keeping him from getting any nearer. All its fronds awakened and batted at him. Dodie dodged them as he craned his neck to get a better look between the fronds.

  There nestled between the two largest fronds was a small burlap sack with a red star painted on it. Dodie leaned over and made a grab for the sack.

  Whack!

  He nearly toppled off his carpet as a frond smacked him upside the head.

  “Stupid alchemists!” he growled.

  He whipped out his dagger from his waist pouch and edged nearer the tree. “Sorry about this.”

  As one frond swung near him, Dodie chopped it off with his dagger. The tree froze, as if stunned by the attack. Dodie dove for the small burlap sack nestled in the center of the fronds.

  His hands tingled as he held the sack. The tree shuddered, so Dodie bolted away. Palm fronds whipped around as Dodie hovered a safe distance from it. Carefully he opened the sack. Silver light glowed inside. Dodie remembered that stardust never decays or loses its potency. He noticed that there wasn’t much left, for the sack was only a third full. He hoped it would be enough to infuse his entire carpet.

  Dodie had helped do maintenance on many racer rugs in the emporium, so he knew to handle the stardust with caution, for it was very potent. He also knew how to properly apply it. He grabbed the tassel on the back left corner of Phoenix, and dipped it into the sack. The tassel, then the corner, then the carpet edges glowed as the rug drank up the stardust. Soon the entire carpet was glowing, its red, orange, and blue colors more vibrant, and its gold edges shining like treasure.