The Wrong Side of Magic (26 page)

The green-haired mermaid looked Hudson up and down. “You're from the Land of Banishment, aren't you?” She swam a bit closer. “I can tell by your clothes.”

“Yeah.”

“That's so cool.” The purple-haired mermaid came closer, as well. Their voices had a quality to them that reminded him of wind chimes, light and tinkling.

Hudson gestured to the box on the island. “I need to get to a magical exit. That's one over there, right?”

“Mm-hmm,” the green mermaid purred. “What's your name?”

“Hudson. Listen, could you do me a favor and bring that boat over here so I can use it?”

The purple-haired mermaid blinked her eyes, fanning purple lashes at him. “I didn't ask whose son you were. I asked your name.”

The green-haired mermaid flipped her tail fin out of the water playfully. It gleamed in the sunlight with turquoise highlights. “Maybe he wants us to guess it.” She giggled another wind-chime laugh. “I'm Micaiah, and this is my sister Marissa.”

Hudson shifted his legs impatiently. “Great. Nice to meet you. Can you bring me that boat?”

“Lance?” Marissa asked. “Arthur? Or maybe Orlando?”

“Alexander? Mark Antony?” Micaiah put in.

Pokey peeked around Hudson's legs. “My name is Pokey.”

“Ahh,” Marissa drifted closer to the water's edge. “It's so cute! It's some sort of fat, little bird with tiny wings.”

“I'm a penguin,” Pokey said, feathers ruffling a bit. “We live in the Antarctic, and in Chile, and on Hudson's dresser.”

“I don't mean to be rude,” Hudson said, forcing a smile, “but I really need that boat. A friend of mine is in serious trouble, and I have to go back home and get her father.” Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to wade into the water and swim to the island with the mermaids right there. He had the uneasy feeling that if he entered their world, he would be in their power. It would be better, safer, to go by boat.

Marissa pouted, puckering her purple lips. “You don't have to go right away, do you? We just met you.” She put her elbows on the bank and rested her chin in her hand. “Wouldn't you like to stay and talk? People from the Land of Banishment are
so
interesting.”

“We could talk with you for hours.” Micaiah pushed her long green hair off her shoulder and wound a strand around her finger. “Or days.”

Any other time, Hudson would have liked sitting at the water's edge and talking with two beautiful mermaids. Now all he could think about was Charlotte, clutched helplessly in an owl's talons. “I need the boat,” he snapped.

Both mermaids straightened their shoulders, offended.

Hudson cleared his throat and spoke again, this time in a calm, friendly voice. “I'd love to talk to you while I row the boat across the lake.”

Micaiah and Marissa leaned together, conferring, then disappeared back into the water. They'd barely left a splash to show where they'd been.

Hudson waited and watched the water, searching for them. Were they getting the boat, or had they gotten mad and stomped off? Well, stomped off as much as a creature with fins could.

Pokey watched, too. “They liked me,” he said. “I have a way with women. You, on the other hand, sucked mackerels.”

Hudson clenched his hands and paced restlessly back and forth by the water's edge. Bits of pebbles crunched beneath his feet. Should he give up on the boat and start swimming across?

Although Hudson never saw the mermaids surface near the island, the boat slipped away from the shore and made its way across the lake. The oars dangled from the boat's side, bumping against the water's surface.

When the boat was a couple of feet away, Hudson picked up Pokey and his bag and then waded the rest of the way to the boat. He was in too much of a hurry to even care that he was soaking his shoes. “Thanks,” he said, climbing in. “You all are the best.”

“Hey,” Pokey said, flapping his wings and straining to reach the lake. “I want to swim.”

“Nope.” Hudson put the penguin on the bench beside him, then grabbed the oars. “I might need you later.”

Pokey sat on the bench sullenly, his two webbed feet poking out beneath his white belly. He sent a dissatisfied glare in Hudson's direction.

Hudson pulled on the oars, pushing through the water as quickly as he could. Marissa glided alongside the boat, her purple hair floating around her shoulders. “We've got lots of ways to entertain boys.”

Micaiah joined her at the side of the boat, swishing her tail fin back and forth lazily. “You can pretend to do all sorts of things here without ever even leaving the lake. Do you want to be an adventurer or a warrior? You could join a mermen's guild.”

“I don't have time.” Hudson missed the
gratitude
boat and the way it made rowing easier. His hands ached with each stroke. “I have something important to do.”

Marissa giggled, then dove underneath the water. Hudson was half afraid she would think it was funny to tip the boat over, and he yanked the oars extra hard. She popped up at the back of the boat, draped her arms across the stern, then lay her chin on her arms. “Important things are always waiting to be done. I'll bet you never bothered doing them before.”

Hudson hadn't seen Micaiah disappear from the side of the boat, but now she appeared next to her sister, flicking water onto him with her tail. “Boys from the Land of Banishment spend lots of time playing games. They never worry about doing anything important.”

“That's not true,” he said, then thought about the money sitting in his sock drawer. He was saving up for a gaming system. “I mean, we do important stuff, too. Sometimes.”

The island wasn't far away now. The water beneath the boat grew light blue, getting shallower. Just a couple more minutes and he would be to the shore. He could see the trail leading to the exit box.

A jolt at the end of the boat snapped his attention back there. Marissa and Micaiah had moved to one side of the boat and pulled it in that direction, turning the boat around. “If you won't play with us,” Marissa said mischievously, “we'll play with you.”

“Hey, stop it!” He put his oar into the water to turn the right way.

Micaiah dove for the oar, grinning. Hudson quickly pulled both oars inside the boat so the mermaids couldn't take them.

Marissa laughed, then gave the boat a push to spin it. The boat twirled in the water, rocking back and forth.

Hudson was stuck. If he tried to use the oars again, the mermaids would take them. But if he just sat there, the mermaids would drag him wherever they wanted. He couldn't jump in and outswim them, even the short distance to the island.

“Just one game,” Micaiah said, appearing at the side of the boat. “It will only take a day or two.”

A day or two? He didn't want to wait even two more minutes. The daylight was already almost gone.

Pokey snorted. “It looks like they've already won the game. You might as well admit to them that you're a loser.” The penguin put a wing to his chest. “I can vouch for you.”

Hudson might not be able to outswim the mermaids, but a penguin could.

Hudson let out a sigh, as though conceding to the mermaids' demands. “All right. I guess I could play penguin ball for a while.”

“Penguin ball?” Marissa bobbed up and down in the water. “What's that?”

Hudson feigned surprise. “You've never played?”

Pokey folded his wings in front of his stomach and shook his head. “It isn't nice to throw your shabtis.”

Hudson ignored him. “It's a simple game, really. See my penguin here?”

The mermaids nodded and drew closer to the side of the boat.

“I'm going to throw him into the water, and you'll try to catch him. If you can catch him before a minute is up, you win. If you can't, I win.”

Marissa tilted her head so her green hair spilled across her shoulders. “Why would it take us a minute to catch him? How far do you throw?”

“Really far.”

He picked up Pokey, who squawked and pedaled his feet as though running through the air. “Don't throw me! It will hurt!”

“No, it won't,” Hudson said. “Besides, you're a bird. Haven't you always wanted to fly?”

Micaiah lazily swam back away from the boat, positioning herself to catch the penguin. “Does your bird even know
how
to swim?”

“Sure,” Hudson said. “Sort of.”

Pokey humphed indignantly at this.

Hudson lowered his head toward Pokey and whispered, “I know how well you swim. Now show these fish-cheerleader hybrids who's boss. We're doing this for Charlotte.”

Before Pokey could make further comments, Hudson hurled him into the air. The penguin soared across the lake, letting out a screech that indicated that no, he'd never actually wanted to fly. The mermaids dove into the water, zipping in the direction Pokey would land.

Hudson grabbed the oars and dug them into the water. “One,” he called out. “Two.” He pulled with all his might, heading toward the shore. “Remember, if it takes you longer than a minute, I win.”

The penguin landed in the water with an impressive splash. He didn't surface. Penguins were slow and awkward on land, but in water they were as fast and nimble as the fish they caught.

Hudson rowed to the island, reaching it in only a few more strokes. The mermaids didn't appear again. Apparently, Pokey was giving them a good chase. That made Hudson the undisputed champion of penguin ball.

He felt a twinge of guilt for leaving Pokey behind, but the bird would probably prefer to swim around in a lake than be shoved into a bag anyway.

Hudson sprang from the boat and ran up the trail toward the exit box. He had to find Mr. Fantasmo and bring him back to help Charlotte.

*   *   *

For all their oddities, the Fantasmos had as many pots and pans in their cupboards as the Browns had in theirs. Hudson banged through several frying pans, ignoring their clangs of complaint, until he spilled out onto Charlotte's kitchen floor. Before he even pulled himself upright, he called out, “Mr. Fantasmo! Are you here?”

No one answered.

Hudson got up and went into the living room. His shoes were damp and cold, and they squeaked with every step he took.

The living room was empty. The tree's blue leaves were wilting from the branches like falling tears. Limp yellow blossoms lay scattered on the floor. Tiny red flowers had taken their place on the branches. He wondered what the red flowers meant, but he didn't have time to think about it.

“Mr. Fantasmo?” Hudson yelled, then headed down the hallway. He pulled the compass from his pocket. “I need to take you back to Logos. Charlotte is in trouble.”

The only sound that answered Hudson was his own hurried footsteps. He flipped on lights and peered into each room he passed. The first was Charlotte's. A lacy green blanket lay on her bed. A mural of flowered fields covered the walls—Logos flowers in their odd varieties. Two falcons flew near the bed's headboard, suspended in the wall's sky.

The bedroom door had been closed when he and Charlotte left the house. That meant Mr. Fantasmo had been here since then.

Hudson moved down the hallway to the next room. A bathroom. He tried the door at the end of the hall and found the master bedroom. “Mr. Fantasmo!” Hudson called again, even though he knew no one was in the house. Charlotte was right about hope. It's sturdy even against obvious bleakness.

He went back down the hallway to the room with the magical supplies. Things had been pushed aside on some of the shelves. A few boxes and bottles lay on the floor as though hurriedly knocked to the ground. Someone had searched for something. Probably Mr. Fantasmo. And Hudson knew what he'd been looking for. The compass.

What had Charlotte's father done when he found her letter? Where had he gone?

Hudson looked at the shelves, wishing he knew what all these things were. Could any of them help him rescue Charlotte? A couple of silver-coated four-leaf clovers would come in handy. He picked up the jewelry box that had held them. He'd been sure there were three left, but he found only one. He took it and hung it around his neck. The box with candy hearts was empty, too, along with several other containers. What had Mr. Fantasmo done with the things?

Hudson saw an iron bar lying on the floor halfway under the shelves and grabbed it. He was going to need all the strength he could get.

He went outside, holding his jar of hope up for light. He checked first the backyard and then the front for any sign of the wizard. While Hudson called Mr. Fantasmo's name, he looked down the street toward his house. He wanted so badly to go see his mom and Bonnie, to ask for his mom's help. He couldn't. If he went home, his mom wouldn't believe him about Logos, let alone allow him to go back.

He could prove to his mom that Logos was real by having her touch the compass and taking her there.

He immediately dismissed the idea. Bonnie was too young to be left alone for hours or days. And besides, if his mom was hurt—changed into a mouse or something—he would never forgive himself.

Hudson strode back into Charlotte's house and looked around again, hoping to find a note, a phone number, some way to reach Mr. Fantasmo. A lead feeling pressed against Hudson's chest, and every passing moment made it heavier. He had been depending on Mr. Fantasmo's help. Now what would he do?

When he didn't find any way to contact Charlotte's father, he wrote a short note and left it on the tree. That way, if Mr. Fantasmo came back, at least he would know the situation.

Hudson went to the kitchen. It was after seven, long past dinnertime, but he was too worried to be hungry. He took a block of cheese from the fridge and some rolls from the counter to eat later. Then he pulled the knob on the compass. Before he could even let out a sigh of defeat, he stood on a dirt path in the Forest of Possibilities.