Glory Alley and the Star Riders (The Glory Alley Series) (72 page)

“Whoo-hoo-hoo!”

Glory
and Clash
screamed as the G-force
s
flattened
t
h
e
m
against the whifferdil
.

“
This
is
worse than
the Rocket Ride at
Maple
Point!
”
he hollered.

  The whifferdil burst into the opened starry sky, where the silver moon greeted
them
.
The craft
rose and rose,
leaving a trail of sparkles behind,
until it peaked in front of the moon, but
Glory
’s
stomach kept going
.
Riplets were dropping off left and right.

“I’m gonna
blow chunks
!”
Clash
warned
.

Everything hovered in place for a few seconds
.
Riplets clung to
the fibers
with their teeth and little claws
.
A campfire flickered in the clearing below
.
Glory saw
the four
Wybbil
s
below s
pread out around
camp lik
e little bugs
in blankets
.

No
Matthew, Olivia or Mandy in sight
.
They
must have been sent home already
.

As
t
he
y were
was about
to crash and burn, the
four Wybbils
peacefully sle
pt around a campfire.
Some nerve
!

The jungle floor looked too far away for comfort.

“This is gonna be
baddd!
”
Glory
warned
just
before the whifferdil dropped
.

Glory
grabbed onto a spongy corner, hanging on for dear life as the craft lost its stiffness
and
sagg
ed
in the middle
.
The s
pongy material
clung to her
hands, but
it
was
a
pparently
no
match for such amateurish flying
.
The whifferdil
plummeted at a steep angle toward the trees.

“Magic of the
Elboni
, straighten this whifferdil and give
us
safe landing!”

The craft continued to fall, but stiffened once again
.
It descended in a spiral toward the jungle with
Glory
and
Clash
dangling from the back of it. The whifferdil crashed through the canopy of leaves.
Glory
fell off of it
at the top
of the
canopy, breaking branches on the way down, until sh
e landed on her back
on a mound of ferns.
Riplets scurried away into the dark underbrush.
Clash
was tangled in some bra
n
ches above, but
worked his way out, and
was already climbing down
.

“You al
l
right down there?”
he asked.

“
I’m so
sorry,” Glory said, feeling stingy bloody scratches all over her body
.

“What are you talking about, Glo? You just saved our lives.” He
looked as bad as she felt, bruises already forming, twigs stuck in h
is
hair
, clothes covered with little tears
.
“
Yep
.
”

“You’re a mess,”
Clash
said, reaching up to pull a few twigs and leaves out of
her
hair.

“
So are you.” She brushed leaves off his jacket. “
And they said a
Tullah
n couldn’t pilot a whifferdil
,”
Glory
said
, feeling shaky, but triumphant.
“P
roves what they know
.
”
While Glory congratulated
herself
,
Clash
doubled over and puked
.

“
Motion sickness
.”
He
explained
.
“Remember what happened on the Tilt-o-wheel?”

“
S
weltering
heat
, spinning rides
,
and chili dogs,” Glory said
.
“A lethal mix.
”

They both looked up at the tree
.
The
whifferdil hung
in
the
uppermost
branches
.
Pieces of red
spongy material
littered the ground, but
the craft
was in one piece, mostly.

The idea of using the whifferdil to escape the island crossed h
er
mind
,
but
s
he’d barely lived through the wild ride out of the Bamboozle. Flying over the ocean was out of the question
.

“Now what?” Clash asked, staring up at the w
h
ifferdil lodged higher in the trees than either one of them could climb.

“I saw the Wybbils’ camp not far from here,” Clash said. “They’re just outside the Bamboozle.”

Wordlessly, they set off through the jungle.
Even at night
,
the Bamboozle’s
stem was hard to miss
.
They
slunk in its
general
direction
and found the campfire
smoldering in the distance not far from the Bamboozle.
A large pot hung above it on a makeshift tripod. The pilot was sleeping soundly a short distance away, but the other three Wybbils were nowhere to be seen. Their e
mpty b
lankets were spread
over the ground where they’d been sleeping during the wild whifferdil ride, so
th
ey couldn’t have gone far.

The smell of stew wafted from the pot.
Clash
opened
the lid
and the two of them peered inside
.
B
rown
broth
with jungle greens
, something like yams, and chunks of meat float
ed
in it.

“
A
t least this
time
they
killed the
ir food before eating it
,” Glory whispered
.
“I wonder what kind of
meat
it
is
.”

“You don’t think it’s one of
our
classmates?
”
Clash
asked.

Glory
suppressed a gag and shook off the thought.

“Maybe it’s Mandy,”
Clash
replied cheerfully.

“
We can only be so lucky
.
” Glory gra
bb
ed
the big spoon hanging on the tripod and
took a test sip
.

Smacking her lips
.
“
Except for a weird
minty
aftertaste, tastes like
beef and
potato
es. Pretty good
.
”

They took turns eating
straight from the pot until
they noticed
muffled
voices
coming from the Bamboozle
.
That’s when
they
realized the red door was open
.

“Stay here,” she ordered
Clash
.

Quietly she approached to peer inside.
The
star riders
s
at
at the center of
t
he Bamboozle looking glum
.

White Feather held Matthew’s slingboard in his lap. “This
Tullah
n contraption must taste bad to riplets.
”
He held it to his nose
.
“Too bad they don’t feel the same way about flesh.”

“I can’t believe we fell
asleep during the
final phase
,” Needle shook his head from side to side
.
“I can’t b
ear
the thought of how they died.”