47 - Legend of the Lost Legend (5 page)

Luka uttered another growl. He stopped digging up the dirt and came
staggering over to us, standing up like a human.

If he shaved off all the fur, put on some clothes, and got a haircut, he’d
look like a young man, I thought. As I stared at him, he started to wave and
point.

“What is he doing?” I asked Marissa.

She stepped up beside me and stared at him too.

Luka grunted excitedly. He waved a furry hand at us and jabbed his other hand
toward the trees.

“I think he wants us to follow him,” I said.

“Yes,” Marissa agreed. “Remember—Ivanna said he would be our guide.”

Grunting and waving, Luka headed for the trees.

I held back. “Can we trust him?” I asked.

Marissa shrugged. “Do we have a choice?”

Luka stepped onto a path that led through the forest. The path curved behind
a clump of tall, yellow-leafed bushes. I saw his head bobbing above the bushes.
Then he disappeared.

“Hurry!” I tugged my sister’s arm. “We’d better not let him get out of
sight.”

I glanced down and saw two black backpacks on the grass. I bent down, grabbed
one, and unzipped it. Empty.

I handed the other backpack to Marissa. “Ivanna must have left these for us,”
I told her. “They’re empty. But I guess we should take them.”

We pulled the backpacks onto our backs. Then we jogged to the path and hurried to catch up with the bouncing, hopping
Luka.

He stopped to sniff a weed. Then he continued shuffling along the path.

We followed close behind. Two or three times, he turned back to make sure we
were following.

The path curved between prickly weeds and tall reeds. We passed a small,
round pond that reflected the blue sky. The air became warmer and wet. The back
of my neck felt hot and prickly.

We entered a cluster of trees with smooth, white trunks. The trees grew close
together. The smooth bark of the trunks felt cool against my hot hands.

“Where is he taking us?” Marissa whispered.

I didn’t answer her. I didn’t know. I only knew that Luka was leading us
deeper and deeper into this forest.

We squeezed our way through the white-trunked trees. And came out in a large,
grassy clearing. Small gray rocks poked up from the grass. The slender white
trees formed a circle around the clearing.

My boots crunched over the ground as I followed Luka across the grass. I
looked down to see what made the crunching sound.

And discovered that the ground was covered with large brown nuts.

I picked one up. “Check this out,” I called to Marissa. I turned and saw that
she had picked up two of them. “They must have fallen off the white trees,” I said.

“They look like walnuts. But they’re bigger than eggs!” she declared. “I
never saw walnuts this big!”

“They feel so hot!” I exclaimed. I glanced up at the sky. “I guess it’s from
the sun beating down on them.”

“Hey—! Whoa!”

Marissa’s cry made me look up.

I saw a gray creature scamper across the clearing.

At first I thought it was a dog or a very large cat. Then I realized it was a
squirrel. It carried one of the large nuts in its front paws. And it hopped
quickly toward the trees, its bushy gray tail floating behind it like a pennant.

I turned as Luka let out a hoarse cry.

I saw him stand straight up. I saw his eyes go wide with excitement.

He let out another cry. Leaned forward. Reached out both hands.

And started to chase after the squirrel.

The squirrel saw Luka coming. It dropped the nut and took off at full speed
into the white trees.

Luka dropped to all fours and galloped after it.

“No, Luka—come back!” Marissa shouted.

“Come back! Come back!” we both called. “Luka—come back!”

Marissa and I both let out worried cries. Then we took off after Luka, into
the clump of trees.

“Luka—! Hey, Luka!” I called. My voice bounced off the trees. It echoed all
around me.

“Luka—! Hey, Luka!”

The cry repeated and repeated, echoing loudly.

I could hear his growl up ahead. And I could hear him thrashing his way
through the trees as he chased the fat squirrel.

“Luka—come back!” Marissa’s cry echoed all around the forest, too.

As we called after him, it sounded as if there were
dozens
of us in
the forest, all chasing after him, all frantically calling for him to stop
chasing that squirrel and come back to us.

“Whoa!” I cried out as I tried to slip through the narrow space between two
white tree trunks—and my backpack caught between the trees.

“Ow!”

It snapped me back. I staggered and nearly fell.

Mister Klutz. For a change.

“Luka! Hey—Luka!” I could hear Marissa’s cry up ahead of me now.

I tried to slip through the trees again, and the backpack caught again. I
pulled it free and found another, wider opening.

A few seconds later, I caught up with my sister. She had stopped running. She
leaned against a tree trunk, breathing hard.

“Where is he?” I cried. “Do you see him? Where did he go?”

“I—I lost him,” Marissa replied breathlessly. “I don’t even hear him
anymore.”

I listened hard. The forest was silent now. No footsteps. No growls. The
leaves above us brushed together, making a soft, whispering sound.

“But how could he run away?” I cried. “He’s supposed to be our guide!”

“I think he really wanted to catch that squirrel,” Marissa said quietly.

“But—but—” I sputtered. “He can’t just run away and leave us all by
ourselves here.”

Marissa sighed. “I think he just did.”

“We have to find him!” I cried. “Come on. We have to keep going. We can’t let
him—”

Marissa shook her head. “How can we find him, Justin? Which way should we
go?”

“We’ll follow his footprints,” I replied. I lowered my gaze to the ground. A thick carpet of brown leaves spread over the
dirt.

No footprints.

“I think he was heading that way,” I said, pointing to the trees.

Marissa shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She pushed herself away from the
tree trunk. “He’s gone, Justin.”

I spun around, frantically searching for him. For any sign of him.

“Hey—what’s that?” Marissa called.

“Huh?” I turned back to her.

“In your back pocket,” she said, pointing. “What is it?”

Confused, I reached into the back pocket of my jeans—and pulled out a
folded-up sheet of paper. My hands were sweaty and stuck to the paper. But I
unfolded it quickly.

“It’s some kind of a note,” I told Marissa. “In a tiny handwriting.”

“Well,
read
it!” she cried.

My eyes slid to the bottom of the page. “It-it’s from Ivanna,” I stammered
excitedly.

“What does it say?” Marissa demanded impatiently.

I steadied the page between both my hands and read the note out loud to both
of us:

“DEAR KIDS,

KEEP LUKA WITH YOU, AND YOU WILL PASS THE TEST. DO NOT LET HIM OUT OF YOUR SIGHT. BE CAREFUL NOT TO
LOSE HIM—OR YOU ARE DOOMED.”

Marissa and I made our way slowly back to the clearing. The grass swayed
under a soft breeze. Our boots crunched over the large nuts in the grass.

I still held Ivanna’s note in my hand. I glanced over it one more time,
hoping it didn’t say what it said. Then I angrily balled it up and tossed it
away.

Marissa trudged along beside me. The sun beat down on us. We were both
sweating.

“Maybe if we wait here, Luka will come back,” Marissa said.

“He isn’t coming back,” I groaned. “He is probably miles away, still chasing
after that squirrel.”

“Then what do we do next?” Marissa demanded. “How do we pass the test?”

I let out an unhappy sigh. “We
can’t
pass the test. You heard what the
note said. We’re doomed.”

“Well, we can
try
,” she insisted. She started across the clearing. I
followed her.

We had taken six or seven steps when I heard a startling sound. A loud
snap,
like a pencil being broken in two.

Then a
crack—
soft at first, and then louder.

I stopped and whirled around. I expected to see Luka come bounding out of the
forest.

But I saw only the tall, white trees. No one there.

I heard another sharp
snap.
Then another. And another.

And then I heard cracking all around.

The earth is cracking open!

That was my first thought. I pictured the ground splitting apart. A dark hole
opening up. And Marissa and me falling, falling down into it.

The Pit With No Bottom!

I wished Dad had never told us that story!

Now Marissa grabbed my shoulder and pointed down. “Justin—look!”

I gazed down. The ground hadn’t split open. But the snapping and cracking
echoed all around.

Louder. Louder.

“Ohh!” I let out a frightened moan as I realized to my horror that the grass
was moving.

I could feel it move under my feet.

“What’s
happening
?” Marissa cried, still holding on to me. “That sound—!”

The cracking grew louder, rising up from the ground. Now it sounded as if all the trees were cracking apart.

The grass swayed and bent.

“It’s—the nuts!” I cried to Marissa. “Look! They’re all cracking open!”

I covered my ears against the sound.

And stared at the nuts, bouncing and trembling all around our feet.

Cracking open. Splitting apart.

Hundreds and hundreds of them. The whole clearing. The ground shaking as they
all cracked apart.

Cracked into pieces. Crumbled around us.

We stared in amazement at the cracking nuts. And then, Marissa and I both
screamed in shock when we saw what came climbing out.

Staring down as a nut split open, I saw gnashing teeth. Tiny black eyes. A
twitching black nose.

The creature pushed itself up. I saw spindly front legs.

A slender body of gray fur.

And those teeth. Snapping. Gnashing.

“A mouse!” I choked out.

“Hundreds of them!” Marissa cried.

The nuts were splitting apart. All across the clearing. So many of them, it
made the grass quiver and the ground appear to shake.

I stood frozen in place, watching mice hatch around my feet. They pushed out
slowly, poking their heads out first. Sniffing the air. Trying out their pointy
teeth.

The nuts rocked onto their sides. Cracked apart. Gray bodies slithered out.
Sticklike back legs kicked their way out from the empty shells.

“They’re not nuts—they’re eggs!” Marissa wailed.

“But mice don’t come from eggs!” I protested.

Marissa raised her eyes to me, her face twisted in shock. “I guess no one
told these mice!”

A mouse scampered over my boots. Mice were scurrying through the tall grass,
making the grass whisper.

Another gray body slithered over my boots.

“Let’s get
out
of here!” I cried to Marissa. I grabbed her arm and
started to pull.

But so many mice scampered over the grass, so many gray bodies slithered at
our feet—we couldn’t move.

Shrill squeaks rose up from the grass as the creatures found their voices.
“Eee eee eee eee!”
The sound surrounded us. Grew louder, louder. Until it
drowned out the whisper of the grass. Until it forced Marissa and me to cover
our ears.

“Eee eee eee eee!”

“We have to
run
!” I shouted.

“But the ground is covered!” Marissa shrieked. “If we run—”

“YOWWWWW!” I let out a cry as I felt a mouse drop inside my hiking boot. Its
tiny feet scratched through my wool socks.

I bent down to pull it out—and saw two more mice clinging by their teeth to
my pants cuff.

“Hey—” I tried to bat them away.

Lost my balance.

Fell to my knees.

Justin the Super Klutz strikes again.

Mice scurried over my hands. I felt one climb up my sweatshirt sleeve, onto
my back.

“Hellllp!” Marissa and I both cried out at the same time.

I turned and saw her bent over, hands raised, struggling to pull two mice
from her hair.

Another mouse chewed the bottom of her sweatshirt. Two more mice climbed a
leg of her jeans. Mice clung to her backpack.

“Helllp me! Ohhhh—helllp!”

Still on my knees, I struggled to push myself up. But a mouse slithered under
my sweatshirt. I felt its prickly feet move across my chest. Then I felt a sharp
stab of pain in the middle of my back.

Did it
bite
me?

Mice jumped onto my shoulders. Crawled over the back of my neck. Swarmed over
my backpack.

Swinging both hands wildly, I tried to brush them off me.

But there were too many of them.

Squeaking. Snapping. Clinging to my clothes. My wrists. My hair.

“Helllllp! Hellllp!”

I pulled a mouse from my ear. And tossed it across the grass.

I could feel a bunch of them crawling over my bare skin under my sweatshirt.
Another sharp bite made me cry out—and I dropped facedown onto the grass—onto more mice!

I tried to swat the mice away. Tried to swat them and push them and grab them
and tug them off me.

But there were too many. Way too many.

I turned and saw them swarming over Marissa. She cried out as she spun
around, swinging her arms. Trying to shake the mice off.

I wanted to help her. But I couldn’t get up.

My whole body tingled and itched.

The squeaking, chattering mice swarmed over me, holding me down. Prickling
me, scratching me, biting me—until I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

“Off! Get off!” I managed to cry.

I swiped at my face, slapping two mice off my cheeks. I pulled one, squeaking
and squirming, from my hair. Pulled another one off my forehead.