The Call - Michael Grant [36]
The buggy made a very satisfying roar.
They drove peacefully from the airport out into the desert, windows down. After just a few minutes Karri pulled off the highway onto a dirt road. She stopped the car and climbed out.
“I have work to catch up on,” Karri explained. She pulled a rugged laptop from a rucksack and traded places with Jarrah. Jarrah sat behind the steering wheel, which was on the wrong side, the right side, the Australian side.
Mack assumed they would be sitting there for a while. But then Jarrah turned the key, turned to look over her shoulder, and winked at Mack. “Hold on, mate; this gets a bit bumpy.”
“Wait. You’re driving?” Mack asked in a voice he hoped didn’t sound too terrified.
“No worries,” Karri said. “Jarrah’s been driving in the bush for years. Ever since she was nine.”
“Yeah, no worries,” Jarrah said.
Then she shoved the shift knob forward and stomped on the gas. The buggy roared and shot down the dirt road. It took off like some giant had kicked it.
“A bit bumpy” was an understatement. Mack felt like he’d been dumped into a blender set on “vibrate to death.”
The dirt road was edged by occasional bushes that smacked the sides of the buggy as it went past. A cloud of dust billowed behind them.
“H-h-h-o-o-o-w-w-w-w f-f-f-a-a-a-r-r-r i-i-i-s-s-s i-i-t-t?” Mack asked. It was hard to talk without unclenching his teeth, and when he unclenched his teeth they vibrated so hard he thought he might break one.
“Not far,” Jarrah said. For some reason she didn’t seem to vibrate quite as much. “Not far” came out as “Naw faa.”
Jarrah grinned, raised her eyebrows, and sent the buggy flying, absolutely airborne, off a red dune. They landed with a spine-shortening crunch amid scruffy bushes and kept right on going.
“Look!” Stefan shouted. He grabbed Mack’s shoulder and squeezed.
Mack looked. There, off to the left side, two kangaroos were speeding along, bounding on their giant hind legs as if they were racing the buggy.
In spite of the pounding he was taking, Mack smiled. All right: kangaroos. How cool was that?
“Can we pull over?” Stefan asked.
“You want to take a picture?” Jarrah asked.
“No. I want to box them,” Stefan said.
Jarrah looked at Mack in the rearview mirror and smiled broadly. “I like your bully.”
She kept driving at breakneck speed, and the kangaroos fell behind. But suddenly she stopped. She turned off the car engine and popped open the door.
“Why are we stopping?” Mack asked.
“Because you should see this,” Jarrah said. “It’s where we’re going. It’s why you didn’t just drown out in the deep blue sea. It’s Uluru, mates—Uluru.”
* * *
DEAR MACK,
DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU CANNOT EAT CATS? EACH DAY I LEARN A LITTLE MORE. SO I THINK I AM BECOMING A BETTER AND BETTER MACK. BUT IT’S POSSIBLE THAT I HAVE GROWN MORE THAN I SHOULD BECAUSE MOM WAS WHISPERING TO DAD THAT I NEEDED A SHRINK.
YOUR FRIEND,
GOLEM
* * *
Twenty
A REALLY, REALLY LONG TIME AGO…
They surrounded the castle like a sea: the creatures of the Pale Queen. Grimluk had seen some ugly in his life, but this was more ugly in one place, all together, than he could ever have imagined.
The Skirrit were the most numerous. They advanced in well-ordered columns, armed with wickedly curved blades like scythes. They swung these upward since that was how their insect arms worked best. They were quick and accurate and deadly.
“Be ready, brothers and sisters,” Grimluk commanded the other eleven. Although he had been the last to arrive, Grimluk had demonstrated a quick grasp of the basics of Vargran. And he had managed on more than one occasion to combine his power with that of others.
The Magnifica had not yet combined all their powers. Drupe had warned them that such an event might