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The Wishing Map
Chapter Eleven: …and Found (Continued)
Previously: Stalling for time, Gina began “confessing her sins” to the murderous pixie princess Feyrdú. Meanwhile, her brother Zack assembled a search party.
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The moment his nurse announced that Feyrdú was not in the Palace, Prince Jenblevó guessed where she might be. He ran to the royal stables, saddled his favorite squirrel, and raced off across the low-lying lespin limbs. Two others followed, the prince’s closest friend, a pixie boy with uncontrollable hair, and Aviar. The Sheya scooped Zack up onto his back, and shot nearly vertical, then executed a vomit-inducing twist and soared out over the treetops.
Despite the emberous glow of the Light Forest, Zack couldn’t make out anything smaller than trees, and certainly nothing as small as a pixie on a speeding squirrel. Will I ever be able to go home? Will Gina?
Is she even alive?
“Hrrrrm-er-hrmmm-ermmm…the lad rides well,” Aviar observed. “Where is he now? Ahhhh, yes, through the claven bowl and up the cliff…very smart…saves him having to…aha, there the formations change…but why…could be a mound formation or…hrrrrrm…tasty looking skeffie over there…wait…
There must be caverns under those formations…yes, that’s it!”
Gina was deep into her epic confession, which she was gauging to last exactly as long as it took one princess and two black widows to fall asleep. They have to sleep sometime, and then I’ll make my escape—must make my escape! To fail would be to die an unthinkable death, pierced through the eyeballs, poisoned in the brain! No! I won’t even think about it. Because it’s not going to happen. I’m going to get away—period. But how? How can I… Stop it! This isn’t helping! With all the self control she could muster, she went on:
“Bilbo wasn’t satisfied…” She had been reciting the passages she could remember and paraphrasing the rest. “…because, even though he was a hobbit, and hobbit’s believe in comfort, he wanted something more—”
“I ask the confessor’s forgiveness…but I do not understand how this story about your—”
“Yes, your father—”
“Bilbo Baggins, um, Dore.”
“Yes, your father, Beelvó Bahgeens-Dor. But I do not understand how this tale about your father can be your confession, Lady J’nah.”
“Well…it’s all because of this ring I inherited.”
“Yeah. See, my dad, um, Bilbo, found this ring. Actually I spotted it first. Did I tell you that? I said, ‘Hey, Bil’—um, I mean—‘Hey, dad, look at this cool ring.’ Only it turned out to be radically evil.”
“The ring was evil?”
“Yeah, completely, because of the Ringwraiths, you know?”
“Yeah, and then there was this other guy who wanted it too, um, my cousin Gollum…”
“Ahhhhh! There! He’s approaching that cliff face. Hrrr-errr-hrrmmm.”
Zack struggled to stay alert. He was tired and cold and dishrag limp. The pursuit of Jenblevó, who was in turn pursuing another pixie who might or might not be with Gina, had lasted over an hour. Would they ever find her? And even if they did, how had she become this mighty ‘girl knight’ they spoke of? Will she even want to go home? Maybe I should just leave her here and go back to my cozy little cauliflower cloud with Leelah and Father and Mother Cloud and—
“Harrrr-errrr-hrrrmmm…there…that cave! Just as I thought!” Aviar went into a death spiral.
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Thoughts: Have you ever been involved in a desperate search for someone whose life was in danger? What went through your mind?
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