A World Without Heroes - Brandon Mull [47]
“Do you just love to argue? If somebody wanted to jump off a cliff instead of me, I’d be relieved.”
“I do want to jump instead of you.”
Jason rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to be nice. And fair. I was the one who read the book. This quest is my fault. Besides, I’m bigger than you, which will give me a better chance of surviving the rough surf.”
The explanation silenced Rachel for a moment. She picked at the small weeds in front of her. “It’s really nice of you to offer,” she finally said. “I can tell you don’t love heights.”
“I don’t like edges,” Jason corrected. “I’m fine if you give me a guardrail or put me in a plane or send me on a roller coaster. Let’s not worry about this for now.” He closed his eyes.
“What exactly is a mangler?” Rachel wondered aloud.
He opened his eyes. “We never really had that explained, did we? I guess something nasty that chops people into sushi. I think we’ll know it when we see it.”
She nodded. “Before we do this, maybe you should tell me the syllable you learned. You know, in case I have to continue alone.”
“Are you trying to jinx us? Thanks for the confidence!”
“There’s nothing wrong with being prepared for worst-case scenarios.”
“You should sell insurance.”
She huffed, standing up. “Fine.”
“Wow, don’t be so touchy.”
“You don’t have to make fun of everything.”
“Maybe we should just enjoy the music of the waves,” Jason placated.
She sat back down.
Jason made himself as comfortable as possible against the contorted tree. “The first syllable is ‘a.’ Just in case.”
“Was that so hard?”
Jason grinned, deciding to quit while he was kind of ahead. Rachel certainly wasn’t a pushover. She had strong opinions, and little fear of sharing them. A good argument could help pass the time, but Jason found himself wondering whether traveling with Rachel would become annoying. If he were going to meet up with somebody from his world, why couldn’t it have been Matt or Tim? They could back him up in a fight, and would be more fun to hang out with. Or if it had to be a girl, why not somebody less obnoxious, like April Knudsen?
The rhythmic crashing of the waves below, like a mighty wind rising and falling with unnatural regularity, lulled him into deep relaxation. Breathing the salt-tinged air, he closed his eyes again.
And woke with a start, Rachel jostling his shoulder. Shadows were small. The sun was high. It was nearly midday. The air was still not warm, though the sun shone brightly.
“Maybe you have narcolepsy,” Rachel suggested as he staggered to his feet.
Jason wiped his eyes. “I just love naps.”
“Well, warn me before you operate heavy machinery.”
Scanning the slope, Jason detected no sign of pursuit. Feeling abashed for having dozed off again, he unlaced his boots and yanked them off.
“What are you doing?” Rachel asked.
“I’m the jumper.” Jason proceeded to disrobe until he wore only his boxers—blue with narrow yellow stripes. He reflected that his boxers and boots were now the only clothes in his possession that he had brought from home.
Rachel had turned away. “Not very shy, are you?”
“I’m wearing boxers. They look like swim trunks.”
She turned and looked at him. “I can do this.”
“You can jump off the next cliff. Don’t be stubborn.”
“You’re the stubborn one,” she shot back.
Jason quietly conceded that she had a point. His parents always accused him of being obstinate. At home he often got his way simply by outlasting everyone else.
“We can flip a coin,” Rachel said.
“Our coins are pellets.”
“No, I have one from our world.” She started searching her pockets. “Winner picks who jumps.”
“Fine.” Shivering, Jason stepped carefully to the edge of the cliff. The sea breeze feathered his cheeks, ruffled his hair. Goose pimples rose all over his body. He folded his arms, rubbing his palms against his sides for warmth.
Far below, the water level had receded. Two rocks shaped like arrowheads stood out clearly now, pointing at each other. To land right between them, he would have to jump outward a good distance.
“Found it,” Rachel said behind him. “Heads or tails?