Into the Wild(30)

Her red eyes sad, Grandma said, “Oh, Julie. I can’t be free. No matter how I believed I’d changed, no matter how many years passed . . . I’m the witch. The Wild knew my role as soon as I entered—it owns me. Even if I were to try to escape in between events, the Wild would simply find another story bit that suited me. There are a dozen different tales that could trap me.”

Julie felt her hopes crumble. “But . . . But . . .” She had an idea, and she grabbed it as if she were drowning: “But what about my reward? This story bit says I get a reward. I want you to . . .” Julie began. The witch waved her hand. “. . . rescue Mom,” Julie finished. A rose and a diamond fell from her mouth. “Ow!” A sapphire popped onto her tongue. She spit it out. “It hurts!” she wailed. “Make it stop!” Her gums bled from the thorns as roses tumbled over her lips.

Gothel waved her other hand.

“That was terrible,” Julie said. No jewels or flowers fell out. She wiped the blood from her mouth on her sleeve. “Why did you do that?”

“It is what I do,” Grandma said sadly. “All the years outside the Wild, all the years of not playing the villain . . . yet here I am again, and this is what I am. Maybe it’s what I’ve always been.” Overhead, the wind blew through the leaves, as if agreeing with Gothel. Maybe it was.

“You’re not a villain. You shouldn’t listen to stupid, evil trees.” She spat bloody saliva at the foot of the nearest tree. “Can I have my mother for my reward?”

“I can’t do that,” Gothel said. “I don’t have that power. Only a wishing ring can take you to her.”

Julie thought of all the items in her backpack. Had one of them been a wishing ring? If only she hadn’t lost it! “Can you give me one?” Julie asked.

Gothel shook her head. “There’s only one. The magician keeps it on a chain around his neck while he’s awake and in his mouth while he’s asleep.”

“Can you take me to the magician?” she asked.

“Only the ogre can take you there.”

Julie rolled her eyes. “Okay. Can you take me to the ogre?”

“You must cross the endless ocean.”

Of course the Wild wouldn’t make it easy for her. Witches, ogres, magicians . . . Julie felt her stomach flip-flop. She wasn’t getting out of a story; she was getting deeper in. “Can you help at all?”

Gothel’s face contorted, as if she were fighting with herself. “I am sorry,” she said. “You must go. It’s not safe for you to be near me. Go while you can. Go before the Wild finds a role that suits you.”

She couldn’t leave her. She couldn’t go on alone. “Grandma, please!”

“Stay clear of stories. Especially endings.” Grandma hugged her quickly, and Julie tried to cling to her. Grandma pushed her to arm’s length.

Julie felt like crying. “Grandma . . .”

“Run. Please.” There was something in her voice. Something strange. Something scary. Julie turned from her grandmother and ran.





Chapter Fourteen

Wild Bikes

Sheer crystal, the glass mountain flashed in the sun. Rainbows danced over the grass and trees. Etched in the slope in front of her, Julie read the former sign: WARD HILL SKI AND RECREATION CENTER. With a sinking heart, she blinked up at the sparkling crystal ski slope. The Wild had grown. She was a full mile beyond where she’d left Gillian.

Unless Mrs. Thomas and Rachel had reached her in time, Julie was certain Gillian was in the Wild. Somewhere. Julie shouldn’t have let her get so close. Never mind that Gillian had wanted to come—Julie had known better. And now the Wild most likely had Gillian and was making her live out a story. Please let it be a safe story. Please let her be okay.

She’ll be okay, Julie thought, just as soon as I find Mom and Mom stops the Wild—which would happen as soon as she found the endless sea and the ogre and the magician . . . “We’re doomed,” Julie said.

As if cued by her words, leaves crackled. Branches snapped. Something fast, furry, and orange darted past her. Julie flattened against a tree as a pack of riderless bicycles raced in pursuit. Near the center of the pack, her own ten-speed bounced over the rocks and roots. Her boots, still tied to the handlebars, flapped against the frame.

Her bike! Her boots! She needed those! “Wait! Bike!”

Up ahead, their prey squealed.

Her bike was hunting. How dare it! “Hey!” Julie yelled. “Bike, get back here!” She chased after it, following the path of flattened bushes and ferns.

In a clearing, the bikes circled. She saw a huddled shape through the blur of bike wheels. Front wheels feinted toward the creature, and the animal shrieked. They were going to hurt it. Maybe kill it. She couldn’t let her own bike do that! Without stopping to think, she bent down, picked up a stick, and threw it at the tires. “Stop it!” she shouted. “Leave it alone!” She threw more sticks and rocks, anything that her hand grabbed.