Birdie's Book - Andrea Burden [24]
“All right,” said Kerka. “But you wouldn’t survive if you lived with my sisters. Although you kind of remind me of Biba.”
I leaned on the wall and let myself slide down its cool side. “Ah,” I said. “That feels great. My poor feet!” I took off my sneakers, which had never hurt my feet before in my whole life, and my socks. I wiggled my bare toes.
Kerka put her backpack on the ground and got her Kalis stick out. She started doing the graceful dance with a few leaps thrown in. Where does she get the energy? I wondered.
The smell of lilacs filled the air. Bees buzzed around innocently. I sighed and enjoyed the moment of peace. In the relative silence, I looked closely at Kerka’s backpack for the first time. It was pretty, kind of a thick, lineny cream-colored fabric with blue and yellow embroidery of stags and mountains on it. “I love your bag,” I said.
“My mom made it for me,” said Kerka between leaps and stick swooshes. “I have it in the real world, too. But it didn’t have my usual stuff in it when I got to Aventurine, just my Kalis stick and the map.” She stopped the swooshing.
We looked at each other.
“The map!” we said at the same time.
Kerka and I scrambled for her bag, but I got there first and pulled it open and took out the map.
“Zally will know how to get in,” I said.
“I bet she will,” said Kerka. “Here, let me help you.”
Kerka got the red string off the map, and together we unrolled it. The sun was low, its light filtering through the glass wall. We watched the map take its time to show us Zally herself, and then it filled itself in. We both stepped back while we watched it, just in case a bunch of sparks flew out of the map again.
The pictures that appeared on the map were different from the last time. Now there was a walled area surrounded by rivers and forests and ringed with mountains. The map zoomed in to the place we were now, complete with a little drawing of Kerka and me!
“We already know where we are,” I told the map. “We need to get past the wall.”
A shower of sparks flew up from the map. This time they were brilliant green with copper and purple bits. Slowly they formed the shape of a tree with a very long branch. The image hung there for a moment, then burst into another silent firework, showering down onto the map.
“So there’s got to be a big tree along the wall,” Kerka said.
“Well, it wasn’t an apple tree,” I said, thinking about the image. “The branch was too straight and too long to be a fruit-tree branch.”
“It doesn’t really matter,” said Kerka. “As long as we can find it, climb it, and get over! At least we know it’s along the wall somewhere.” She rolled up the map and stowed it in her backpack along with the Kalis stick. “Did you learn tree stuff from your dad, too? What, was he a farmer in … what did you call it? Califa?”
“Nuh-uh,” I said, putting my socks and sneakers back on. “We just had a big backyard. And I read a lot. You know, books about nature, botany, plants, that sort of thing.”
Kerka shook her head. “Not something I’d ever read!”
“We’re different, all right!” I said.
“Yeah,” Kerka said. She glanced along the glass wall in either direction. “You have climbed trees before, haven’t you?” she asked, looking at me a little doubtfully.
“I’m not, like, super sport girl,” I said. “But I can climb trees!”
“Okay, tree lover, which direction should we look for this big tree that will get us over the wall?” Kerka asked with a grin.
Now it was my turn to glance to the right and the left along the length of the wall. It curved away from us in either direction, and I couldn’t see any sign of a big tree. I closed my eyes and tried to feel a big tree. I turned my head from side to side. The smell of lilacs was stronger in one direction. I didn’t know if that meant anything, but it was better than nothing.
I opened my eyes. “That way,” I said, pointing to the left.
“All right, then,” said Kerka. “We’re off to find a tree!”
As we walked, I told Kerka about all the kinds of trees I thought it might or might not be. I don’t usually talk so much, but Kerka seemed to be listening,