Across Carina (10 page)

“She wants you to stay!” he shouted.

“I don’t want to stay!”

I reached for him again, stretching even my bones, but now the distance between us was increasing.

Eden shook his head. “I can’t just take you out of here! There’s a price—a choice you have to make!”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I can only go between this planet and mine!” he said. “You’d have to come with me, Jade! Come to my world!”

“I can’t! I need to find a driver! You never told me how!”

“But I did!”

He raised his arms to shield his head from a rock, but then another rock hit him in the ribs. He howled, and instinctively I tried to jump out to him, but I couldn’t move. It was like my feet were glued to the mountain.

“We’re running out of time!” I cried. “You only told me to ask for a driver! What does that mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like, Jade! I can’t tell you any more! I’ve never traveled the universe!”

“Then come with
me!
” I shouted.

“I have a duty to The Blue Planet! I
will
regain my powers someday, but it will take time!”

He paused, and his voice quieted.

“Charlotte and I ruined everything. . . . Rivalry is a foolish game.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, hearing my own voice quiet. My body was shutting down.

But it was a rivalry, indeed. Charlotte and Eden were competing for me. All the rocks, while dodging me, were on the verge of pummeling Eden. Charlotte was giving me one last chance to choose her.

I don’t choose you.

At that moment, a beam of light brighter than the sun burst through the center of the swirling clouds. Eden and I turned away.

“What is that?” I cried.

“I don’t know!” he said.

I was starting to feel like I
was
upside down. All the blood was rushing to my head, and I was becoming blind and dizzy.

I almost yielded to Charlotte, but then I remembered what Eden had said. That I should ask. I still didn’t know exactly who he was, but he seemed to think that I had options. I guessed I had nothing to lose by trying.

“I need a driver,” I whispered breathlessly. “Please, if anyone can hear me, I need a driver. Please come rescue me from The Mango Sun. I’m the girl in green. . . .”

My voice trailed off as the light pierced through my very mind, and I lost all thought. Time surrendered to the white silence that had stolen away the clouds. Eden and his mountain faded, leaving only me.

I thought I might be fading myself, but then I heard horses and a raucous laugh. I looked up to see a golden chariot fly out of the light. It landed on the mountain beside me, and a hideous driver extended his hand.

“You called? This is car eight-two-one-nine.”

“Yes,” I breathed, letting him pull me onto the chariot. “I need to get a message to Earth.”

“We don’t go to Earth,” he said.

“I’m not asking you to take me there,” I said. “I just need to get a message to the creator. Or if there isn’t one, then to whoever is in charge.”

“What will you offer me in return?” the driver asked.

“Offer?”

I bent down to rub my ankle. A greedy driver was the last thing that I needed.

He eyed my ankle. “I hope you won’t be a burden.”

I scowled. “I won't. But don’t you guys do this for free?”

“No,” he said. “Your first ride was free because Charlotte wanted you, and our bargain was with her. If now you wish to leave, then our bargain must be with you.”

“Well what do you want?” I snapped.

The driver wiggled his chubby ears in thought. He looked much like the first driver, except that he didn’t have a beard.

Without the distraction, my eyes went straight to his crooked, yellow teeth. They were crowding in a pool of spit, and I wished that I hadn’t noticed them. I ran my tongue across my own teeth to check that they were still intact. After tripping my way across The Mango Sun, I couldn’t be too sure.

“If you tell me stories about Earth,” the driver said, “I will drive you to the nearest planet in Carina.”

“In Carina?” I repeated. “How about in the Milky Way?”

“I will take you to the next planet and no further,” he growled. “You can relay your own messages. I don’t know your creator, nor do I wish to.”

“Then why do you want to hear stories about Earth?”

As soon as I’d said it, I was sorry. I was being offered an easy bargain, one that would at least take me
somewhere
. I obviously couldn’t stay with Charlotte.

“Perhaps I don’t wish to hear stories,” the driver said.

“No, you do,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’m not thinking clearly. I twisted my ankle, see?” And I pointed at it.

“Then go on,” he ordered, cracking his whip.

We were off.

I looked down just as we were passing Charlotte’s house. Charlotte was standing on the red mushroom where we had talked, looking only inches tall. To my surprise, she didn’t send anything to obstruct us; she just watched us go. I wondered if she had no power over the drivers. I thought about what she’d said—that the drivers were born from the elements—and suddenly I realized that they couldn’t be affected by anyone or anything. Their chariots were shields, and I was now safe.

My ankle healed as soon as we left The Mango Sun’s atmosphere, and I genuinely smiled for the first time in months. Never again would I be stuck in Charlotte’s mind.

“Well?” the driver asked.

“Oh, right,” I said. “What kind of story do you want to hear?”

“Something happy,” he ordered.

I tried not to laugh.

As if you even know what that word means.

My smile faded, though, as I realized that I couldn’t think of anything happy.

“Do you like fire?” I finally asked, for it was the first thing that had come to mind when I’d thought of Earth.

“That depends,” the driver said. “What happens in your story of fire?”

“Someone dies.”

I looked away and watched the stars as we tore through space. The driver probably didn’t think that I saw, but I did—he smirked.

“So your planet isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, is it?”

“No,” I said. “It is not.”

I told the story of Garrett’s death as the driver steered us through Carina. I explained how Garrett hadn’t wanted to play hide-and-seek, but we’d made him; how I’d jumped off the roof; and how red and orange were the only colors that I’d seen for weeks after the fire. I described the soot on Justin’s face, the gleaming axes, the crippling flames . . . and the gawkers. All those bloody gawkers. Never once did the driver comment, nor did his ugly, apathetic face change.

The horses were moving fast. So fast that the stars had blurred into a thick, white mass around us. And neither the horses nor the stars heard me; they did not care. They were just like the driver.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked.

“To the nearest planet in Carina,” the driver said. “As promised.”

“How come none of the scientists on Earth know about all these planets?”

“Because we’re not in the Milky Way. We’re a far way from there.”

I sighed. “Fine. How much longer until we arrive?”

“Minutes. Nothing travels as fast as a golden chariot.”

Still, I was anxious. I leaned over the side of the chariot, feeling the outer wall. The gold had been hardened into a series of ridges. As I slid my hand over each one, I remembered the little ridges on the wave slide that Garrett and I had shared as kids. Our dad had built us a playground with a slide and two swings, and we had always been trying to see who could slide the fastest, who could touch the sky first. And now here I was, living in the sky.

I looked up just as one of the horses’ wings was coming toward me.

Smack!

My head rolled back, and I teetered on the side of my foot. I reached out, thinking that I was reaching for the driver, but I got turned around and ended up grabbing the air outside the chariot. I started to tip overboard, and as I realized what was happening, a meteor zipped by and almost knocked my arm clean off.

“Back in your seat!” the driver barked, pulling me by my hair.

“Ow!” I cried.

I spun around, finally oriented, and I glared at him. I held the glare while I straightened my dress—I was still wearing it from when Charlotte had given it to me. It was now tattered from her lightning, but it was all that I had. The pajamas I had arrived in were probably lying in a bush somewhere on The Mango Sun.

“Listen,” the driver said, “you’re in for a bumpy ride if we’re landing on Getheos.”

“Getheos?” I asked.

“Getheos,” he repeated. “The world of the gods.”

“Gods? As in more than one?”

He didn’t answer. He veered us down and to the left, and I had to hold on to him to keep from flying out of the chariot. I closed my eyes; being so exposed to the space rocks made my heart palpitate.

The driver shook me off, and I fell in the corner. I squatted there, trying to keep steady.

“
You
listen,” I said, looking up at him. “I just spent the last few days with deranged siblings who called themselves gods. I can’t handle a world with more than one. We just need to stick to the plan.”

He laughed. “This
is
the plan, and you’re lucky that I’m even taking you to Getheos—or to any planet, for that matter. You did not fulfill your end of the bargain with your pathetic tale of Garrett.”

“Garrett is not pathetic!” I screamed. “He was everything to me, and I died the day he died!”

“Well you seem very much alive to me. For the time being. Now hold on!”

We raced toward a massive slab in the sky. It was colored orange, blue, and green and iced with a thick and tangible glow. It didn’t look like a planet, but we were aiming right for it.

What in the . . . no . . . there’s no way that we’re landing there.

I looked around, but there was nothing else in sight. No spherical planets. Only the slab. I closed my eyes again, thinking that I never should have opened them. My hands were glued to the front of the chariot, not moving even when the reins slapped them.

We took a straight dive, and the inside of my head floated up in resistance. I could feel myself splitting, and the realization sunk in.

We’re landing there.

I nearly threw up all over the chariot. I would have rather gone back to The Mango Sun than land so roughly. I had mixed feelings about Charlotte, but at least there was only one of her.

“Almost there,” the driver said.

When I opened my eyes, we had reached Getheos. Below us, trees and huts looked like dots on a map, and little specks moved on the ground. I couldn’t tell if the specks were people or animals—or something else. I realized that I hadn’t asked about the inhabitants. They could have been hybrids for all I knew. I’d been too focused on the fact that there were multiple gods.

Closer to the ground, I saw three birds. They were picking at worms in the dirt. They looked like ordinary creatures doing an ordinary thing, but to be certain, I watched them. I watched them pick and chirp and then scatter in the approach of a wirehaired dog.

Okay, maybe this will be like Earth.

In a sudden gust of wind, my dress flew up and smacked me. I realized that it had probably been hovering to some degree during our entire descent. Embarrassed, I pushed it back down, but I felt like I watched myself do it. Mentally I was still ten feet above my own body.

We flew toward a sprawling meadow surrounded by oak and ash trees. The meadow was full of tall grass and yellow flowers, and we landed there in the midst of them. The horses slowed to a trot, then to a walk, and then one of them collapsed. The chariot sloped down, jolting me out of my seat. I hit the ground and sighed.

I’m going to be permanently bruised after all this.

I rolled onto my hands and knees and started to crawl away from the chariot. Just in case the other horse collapsed.

I looked up at the driver. “They need rest. And water,” I said. I might as well have been describing myself.

The driver shrugged. “They’re fine.”

Then he added, “You know, you’re an impudent little girl. I happen to know what I’m doing. I’ll stop when I see fit, and more than likely that’ll be at The Edge and not before.”

“I am
not
impudent!” I protested. “Or little! And what the heck is The Edge?”

“Ha! Did you not notice that this planet is flat?”

“Of course I did, but—”

I stopped myself when it clicked. The Edge could only mean one thing.

“Wait a second, wait a second,” I said.

“I don’t have a second,” the driver said. “At The Edge there is a great waterfall from which my horses can drink, and that’s where I’m going. So I’d best be off. Good day!”

“Good day?” I scrambled to my feet. “Aren’t you going to give me any directions?”

“Do you know where you want to go?” the driver asked.

“Well, no, but—”

“Then directions wouldn’t help, now would they?”

He rolled his eyes, pulling the collapsed horse to its feet.

“Just start walking,” he told me.

I gaped at him. “You could at least tell me who to look for!”

“I don’t know who you should look for,” he said. “You’ll just have to talk to people, whomever you see. Ask them questions. I know you love questions.” He sneered. “Anyway, someone will know your creator. Now I said good day!”

He turned away from me and pulled up the hood of his cloak. Without another glance my way, he whipped the horses, and they began to tow him through the meadow.

I watched them go, until the last of the chariot disappeared behind a weeping willow. It was an enormous willow at the meadow’s edge, the size of several put together. I was intrigued. I wanted to know where the driver had gone, what lay beyond such a tree. Hopefully there were people. I so desperately needed people.

I started for the tree. It was at least half a mile ahead. The grass came up to my waist, and I waded through it, my feet cushioned by the soil. I had not retrieved my shoes after being struck by lightning.