Of course Felix already started that dumb report, Maisie thought.
“The way I see it,” Felix continued, “if we say, you know”—he lowered his voice, as if Phinneas Pickworth himself might hear—“lame demon . . . then we’re just going to go somewhere else here in Africa. But if we use this, we’ll get out of here and be nice and safe in Minnesota.”
Maisie nodded, considering this escape plan.
“Without the Ziff twins,” she said evenly.
“Without the Ziff twins.”
Maisie thought some more.
“I don’t have the map for Dr. Livingstone,” she said finally. “Do you?”
Felix shook his head. “I only have this,” he said, holding up the compass.
“So, technically, we wouldn’t be abandoning the Ziff twins,” Maisie said. “Because one of them must have the map.”
“Yes, but—”
“Amy Pickworth is their great-great-grandmother, right? They should be the ones to find her.”
“I don’t know, Maisie. What if—”
“They’ll find her and give Dr. Livingstone the map and have a great adventure,” Maisie said with a finality that concerned Felix.
“I really don’t think we should leave them here. Snakes and gorillas and tsetse flies and hippos—”
Maisie held up her hand to shush him.
“No, Maisie,” Felix persisted. “We have to think this through—”
“Sssshhh!”
Felix followed her gaze to some distant point.
“Is it them?” he asked eagerly. “Do you see Hadley and Rayne?”
Maisie’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened as if she might speak, but no words came out. Instead, she lifted one quivering finger and pointed.
At first, Felix didn’t see anything. But even so, he’d quickly learned here in the jungle just how good camouflage was. That snake had blended right in with the path he’d been walking on. He knew that if he looked hard enough, something would emerge up ahead.
No sooner did Felix have that thought, then the foliage seemed to move.
He blinked.
Indeed, he could make out a shape now.
Felix gulped.
“Maisie?” he whispered. “Is that a—”
Maisie nodded.
When she spoke, her voice came out hoarse and raspy.
“A lion,” she managed.
Now Felix could clearly see the lion’s tawny fur, its long, hard muscles.
And the lion could see him, too. It stopped and lifted its nose to the air.
Maisie and Felix held their breath.
The lion opened its mouth, revealing large yellow fangs, and let loose the loudest, scariest roar either of them could ever have imagined.
Maisie grabbed Felix’s hand just as the lion lowered its head, set its golden eyes right at them, and pounced.
CHAPTER 6
THE LOUISIANA PURCHASE EXPOSITION
Felix squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for those fangs to rip into his flesh.
Instead, he felt himself being lifted off the ground, up, up, up. The wind blew as he somersaulted and the smells of all those now familiar things, like Christmas trees and cinnamon, surrounded him.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Maisie’s grinning face tumble past him.
Then: nothing.
Until they dropped.
At first, Maisie saw nothing but smoke. She coughed and rubbed her eyes, wrinkling her nose at the smoke and other strange odors that filled the air. Instinctively, her hand went to the thread around her neck.
The shard was gone!
Panicked, Maisie’s fingers fumbled with the thread. In the tumble it had come undone and the shard had slid off. Maisie looked all around. But the shard was nowhere to be found. How would they get back without it?
The smell of meat cooking filled Maisie’s nose, distracting her. She had to squint through smoke to see anything at all. For a moment, she thought they had somehow landed back in Hawaii at the birth of Liliuokalani. She saw thatched huts and people who, with their black hair, bare chests, and loincloths, looked very much like the native Hawaiians she’d met then. They stood around a fire where a small animal was being cooked in a deep pit, talking in the strangest language she’d ever heard. Instead of the lilting syllables of Hawaiian, these people spoke in a series of rhythmic, rapid clicks.
One thing was for certain: This wasn’t Minnesota. Or Hawaii, Maisie decided as she studied the faces of the people around the fire. The language was different, and their faces had a different shape than the native Hawaiians. No one noticed her. They were too eager for their dinner. To Maisie, that dinner looked very much like . . . She waved her hand to clear some of the pungent smoke clouding her vision. Her stomach rolled. That dinner seemed to be a dog, she realized. The smell of that meat and all of the smoke choked her and before she could stop herself, she threw up.
As soon as she did, everyone stopped clicking and turned toward Maisie, who had dropped to her knees and was now clutching her stomach and throwing up again. She gulped for air, trying to settle her stomach. Something caught her eye. Something white with a small blue flower on it.