Flight of the Phoenix (Nathaniel Fludd, Beastologist, Book I) Page 6

  The snowy ash that clung to the shape shifted, fluttering in the morning breeze. Nate blinked. It was no longer ash, but tiny white and gray feathers. The body of the phoenix--for that's what it was--began to glow brightly. Colors spread out from the body to the ash, until all of it was bright orange and red.

  Two small black eyes appeared next. The phoenix turned its head and met Nate's gaze. A wondrous feeling shot through him. A feeling that he could do anything in the world, if only he set his mind to it.

  The phoenix opened its beak and melodious notes floated into the morning air. If hope and joy had a sound, Nate thought, it would be just like that. At his feet, Greasle sat up to listen.

  Without any warning at all, the phoenix raised its wings and rose from the nest. Orange and gold tail feathers unfurled behind it like a glowing shower of sparks.

  Nate watched the phoenix's first flight. As it circled the

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  oasis, it began singing again, the pure, joyous notes filling the air.

  Greasle sighed. "That really is the most lovely sound."

  The phoenix circled the oasis one last time before coming in closer to Nate. As it drew near, it thrust out its clawed feet. Nate flinched, afraid for a moment that the bird was attacking him.

  Instead, it landed on his shoulder, so gentle he barely even felt it. Nate froze, afraid to move and disturb the magnificent creature. It weighed hardly anything, as if it were truly nothing but ash and smoke. It reached out and nibbled gently at Nate's ear with its beak.

  "I think it likes you," Greasle said.

  Nate felt himself blush with pleasure. "Maybe." He risked turning his head so that he could look into the phoenix's eyes. The bird tilted its head and their gazes met. It was as if the phoenix were looking deep inside him, taking his measure. Nate felt naked, his every secret hope and fear painfully laid bare before the phoenix's knowing gaze.

  But as he continued to stare into the phoenix's eyes, Nate noticed something else.

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  [Image: Nate and the phoenix.]

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  His hopes began to grow, filling up and spreading out until there was hardly any room left over for fear. His exhaustion and discouragement were burned away, like clouds before the sun, leaving only his possibilities behind.

  As if satisfied, the phoenix broke eye contact and trilled one final note before launching itself back to the nest. Unable to look away, Nate followed, standing on the saddle to get a closer look.

  The phoenix was doing something with all the leftover ash in its nest. As Nate watched, it gathered it into a tidy little egg-shaped pile. As the ash and embers cooled, the egg hardened. The phoenix grabbed it in its claws, then rose up into the air and held the egg out to Nate.

  "For me?" Nate asked, unable to believe he was being given such a precious gift.

  The phoenix ducked its head, as if nodding, so Nate took the egg. "Thank you," he said, cradling it in his palms. The phoenix let out a burst of song, circled the oasis twice, then disappeared over the eastern horizon.

  The egg in Nate's hand was smooth and glossy and still slightly warm. Small clumps of ash clung to it in places. Colors swirled deep inside it. As he stared at the egg in his

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  hand, a plan began to form. Miss Lumpton had been very pleased to receive a Tidy Sum for taking care of him. Maybe the Bedouin would like to receive a gift for taking care of Aunt Phil? Surely a phoenix egg was better than plain old money?

  He carefully wrapped the egg in his soft leather helmet, then placed it in his rucksack next to The Book of Beasts. With Greasle at his heels, he climbed the eastern ridge. At the top, he shielded his eyes against the rising sun. There. He could see the Bedouin camp in the distance. That was where he had to go.

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  ***

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nate set out down the ridge, where the sun had only just risen. Hopefully he'd reach the camp before the girls set out for their midmorning trip to the oasis. He didn't want to be caught out in the open like this. Mounted on camels, it would take them no time to raise the alarm. He preferred to sneak into the camp to be sure Aunt Phil was okay before announcing his presence.

  The distance was a lot farther than it looked, and for the first time, he found himself missing Shabiib.

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  Greasle grew tired halfway there and he had to carry her on his shoulders.

  When the group of tents finally came into sight, Nate got down and began to belly crawl the rest of the way.

  He reached the camels first. They were all grouped off to the side of the tents. If he used them as cover, it would hide his approach.

  Slowly he crawled forward until he was practically under the camels' hooves. Now what?

  He peered through the camels' legs toward the tents. Most of the people seemed to be tending small cooking fires as they started their day. No one looked like Aunt Phil, which meant she must be inside one of the tents.

  But which one? There were more than a dozen.

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  He couldn't very well search every tent. And he dared not get any closer to the Bedouin.

  "So now what?" Greasle asked, echoing his thoughts.

  "Now we find Aunt Phil, I trade the phoenix egg for her, and then we all go home."

  "Are you sure she's worth it?" Greasle said. "I mean, that fiery bird gave it to you. Seems like he wanted you to have it."

  "I know," Nate said. The feeling that he was betraying the phoenix's gift had haunted him all morning. "But it's the only thing I have of value. Now, the sooner you go over there and see where Aunt Phil is, the sooner we can all go home."

  "Me?" Greasle squealed.

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  "Shh! Yes, you. You're so small, they probably won't even see you. And if they do, they'll just think you're a jinni, like Fadia did. They'll leave you alone."

  "No, sir. I don't think so. Besides, why should I help her?"

  "Well, Aunt Phil let you stay with us." Greasle snorted.

  Nate thought a moment longer. "You want to get back to the plane, don't you? I won't be able to find my way back on my own. We'll need Aunt Phil to help us get there."

  Greasle's ears drooped, and Nate could tell he'd won.

  "Okay, then," she said.

  "And remember," he said. "If they catch you, act like a jinni. It's our best weapon."

  Greasle nodded, then leaped forward and disappeared within seconds. Nate held his breath, terrified he would hear a shout from the men signaling they'd spotted her.

  But nothing happened. He waited so long that his legs began to cramp. Just when he was worried that something had happened to Greasle, Nate felt something damp and prickly against his leg. He whipped around and found himself staring into the face of a camel. The camel worked

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  his lips a couple of times. Oh, no, Nate thought, but before he could roll out of the way, the camel shot a thick wad of stinky spit at him. Shabiib, he thought as he wiped the mess away.

  "Shoo!" Nate whispered, then turned back around to keep a watch out for Greasle and Aunt Phil.

  A group of men emerged from one of the larger tents. They were all talking together importantly. Nate leaned forward, straining to hear their voices.

  There was another nudge on his ankle. He jiggled his foot, shaking Shabiib off. "Not now, you stupid cam--" His words were cut off as an iron grip took ahold of his collar and hauled him to his feet.

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  ***

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nate dangled three feet from the ground. An angry dark gaze met his. "What have we here? A camel thief?"

  "No!" Nate cried out, shocked someone would think such a thing. "I've just come for my aunt."

  The Bedouin looked from Nate to Shabiib, his expression unreadable. "We will see what our sheik has to say about that." He set Nate's feet on the ground but kept a firm grip on his collar as he marched him toward the largest tent. Everyone stopped to stare. One girl raised her hand to her
mouth in surprise. It was Fadia. She quickly looked away.

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  As he was propelled toward the tent, Nate glanced around frantically, trying to locate Greasle. This would be the perfect time for her to appear and do her jinni routine. But she was nowhere in sight.

  The Bedouin threw open the tent flap and shoved Nate inside. He barely managed to keep from stumbling.

  Five men looked up and their conversation came to an abrupt halt. Nate blinked, trying to adjust to the dim light.

  "What have you brought us, Khalid?" asked an older man wearing a fancier robe than the others. The sheik, presumably.

  "Another trespasser. Possibly a camel thief. Possibly a spy. Perhaps our honored guest knows something about it." It was then that Nate saw Aunt Phil seated regally on a floor cushion, watching all of them. "Does he belong to you?" Khalid asked.

  "Yes, he does."

  "Actually," Nate said, speaking for the first time, "I'm here to offer a trade."

  "A trade?"

  "Yes." He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and cleared his throat.

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  [ Image: Nate, Aunt Phil and the five men.]

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  "In, um, appreciation for your hospitality toward my aunt. I've come to offer a gift for her return."

  "I am listening," the sheik said.

  His heart beating fast, Nate slipped his hand into his pack and closed it around the smooth, perfect phoenix egg. He dreaded giving it away, but he had nothing else to offer.

  "Well? What do you have?" the sheik asked, growing impatient.

  Nate pulled the egg out. "I have a rare phoeni--" Aunt Phil gasped. "Nate! No!"

  The sheik stared at it, his face expressionless. "You offer me a rock?"

  "No, no. It isn't a rock. This is a phoenix egg! The phoenix gave it to me after it emerged from the ashes."

  The sheik's face grew stern. "The phoenix is a creature of myth and belongs to the old tales. Your rock is of no value to me. Now, go sit with your aunt while we decide what must be done about you."

  Nate couldn't believe his ears--couldn't they tell this was no ordinary rock? He opened his mouth to argue, but Khalid caught his eye. "Go," he said. "Arguing will do you no good."

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  With the bitter taste of failure in his mouth, Nate went to sit beside Aunt Phil.

  "May I see it?" Aunt Phil asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

  "Sure." Nate pulled the lustrous egg out and handed it to her. At least she understood how special it was.

  "Extraordinary," she murmured, turning it over in her hands. She looked up at Nate, her eyes shining. "Excellent work."

  "Well, thanks. But fat lot of good it does us."

  "Don't worry." She handed the egg back to him. "We'll think of some--"

  There was a mad howl, and then something crashed into Nate's shoulder.

  Greasle! he thought as the gremlin raced past him on all fours. Nate hoped these men were as afraid of jinn as Fadia had been.

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  ***

  Chapter Eighteen

  Greasle barely spared Nate a glance as she ran by him, headed straight for the door.

  "What was that?" the sheik asked.

  "A jinni?" Nate offered hopefully. The men got to their feet and followed the gremlin out of the tent. Nate and Aunt Phil hurried after them.

  "What is your gremlin up to now?" Aunt Phil whispered.

  "Don't worry. It's all part of our plan." But Greasle wasn't acting the least bit jinnilike. In fact, she was acting more

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  like a hound on the scent of a tasty bone. She was still on all fours, sniffing at the ground. After a moment, she began digging furiously.

  Warily, the Bedouin gathered round, pointing and whispering. Nate pushed to the front of the crowd.

  Greasle was rolling in a small trickle of thick, dark liquid. She paused to slurp up a big gulp, then writhed with happiness. At Nate's approach, she looked up and grinned. "Much better than nasty dates," she said gleefully.

  Nate knelt and dipped his fingers into the puddle. He sniffed, then rubbed them together. He looked up at Aunt Phil. "It's just like that stuff you had in the barrel for your airplane," he said.

  [Image: Greasle.]

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  Aunt Phil knelt and tested the puddle herself. "You're right, Nate. It is oil."

  Nate thought a moment. "You said it was valuable. Will they trade it for our freedom?"

  Aunt Phil's eyes widened in surprise. "They just might." She raised her voice and called out to the sheik, "Our gremlin--er, jinni--has given you a gift of great value. She has discovered oil."

  "Oil?" the sheik repeated. "What is this oil? It is not water and we cannot drink it. Of what value can it be?"

  Aunt Phil scooped up a handful of the oozing black liquid and let it dribble from her fingers. "This is what will power the future," she said. "Airplanes, motorcars, trucks, tanks--all need this substance in order to run. Men will pay much for it."

  The sheik narrowed his eyes. "You mean the machines of war. Like the Turks and British used to fight."

  Aunt Phil looked sad for a moment. "Yes. Your first taste of our technology was in war. But there are many other uses for such machines. Oil may not have value for the Bedouin, but others will pay dearly for it. It will bring you much in trade."

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  The sheik studied Greasle, who now lay in an oily stupor, her little belly bulging. Then he looked back at Nate. "Very well. We will take this in trade for your aunt. But come," he said to Aunt Phil. "Tell me more of this oil and fuel and technology. I want to understand your view of the future. Then we will return your camels to you and see you on your way."

  Aunt Phil looked over her shoulder at Nate. "Brilliant!" she said.

  ***

  Hours later, Nate and Aunt Phil were escorted to the oasis. They rode behind two Bedouin, leading their own camels by ropes.

  Once they had bid goodbye to the Bedouin, Aunt Phil looked toward the palm tree, her face forlorn. "I can't believe I missed the phoenix. Was it wonderful?" she asked.

  Nate stared at the tree, remembering. "It was better than wonderful."

  After another moment, Aunt Phil sighed and draped her arm across Nate's shoulders. It felt odd--heavy, but nice,

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  too. "Well, there's no doubt about it. You're an official Fludd now. The only one of us to see a phoenix rebirth since 1428."

  Nate stood up a little taller and tried to look official.

  "You'll have to tell me every detail of what happened so I can record it in The Book of Beasts."

  The Book of Beasts! Nate had almost forgotten. "Aunt Phil, when you were at the Bedouin camp, did you see a man with red hair? Sort of the same color as yours? He was short and round and wore black robes."

  "No," Aunt Phil said, suddenly alert. "Why?"

  Nate told her of the attempt to steal The Book of Beasts. When he was done, she began to pace. "What? What's wrong?" he asked.

  "Describe him to me again," she said.

  Nate did. When he was done, he asked, "Do you have any idea who it might have been?"

  Aunt Phil stopped pacing and sighed. "I have my suspicions. There are very few who even know the book exists. If I am right, it's very bad news indeed." Her face cleared. "But excellent work in keeping it safe, Nate."

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  "Greasle helped," he pointed out.

  Aunt Phil glanced at the sleeping gremlin. "I must say, she's proven far more useful than I ever imagined."

  As Aunt Phil turned away, Greasle opened one eye and winked at Nate. He winked back.

  "Now," Aunt Phil said, "let's get on back to the plane. We've loads to do and little time to do it." She lifted her saddle, grunting with the effort, and headed toward her camel.

  Nate followed behind. "Really?" Nate asked. "What's next?"

  "Well, not only do we need to put out some inquiries about this would-be thief of yours, but I want to locate your Miss Lump
ton. I have a few questions I'd like to ask her."

  That would be interesting, Nate thought. He could hardly imagine the two of them in the same room.

  "And as if that weren't enough," she continued, "we need to make a quick trip to visit the wyverns. It's time for the wyvern hatchlings to begin flying soon, and I don't want the chickens and goats to begin disappearing at an alarming rate. Here." She reached into her pocket and tossed something at Nate.

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  [I mage: A compass.]

  Startled, Nate managed to catch it. He turned it round and round in his hands. It was a compass, just like hers. The engraved dodo on the cover looked so real, Nate half expected him to talk.

  "The Fludd family compass," Aunt Phil explained. "It's high time your formal training began. We've loads of catching up to do."

  Nate slipped the compass into his pocket. He couldn't wait to get back to Aunt Phil's house and show that stuffy old dodo just how wrong he'd been.

  The End

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  NATHANIEL FLUDD'S GUIDE TO

  PEOPLE, PLACES, AND THINGS

  airship Italia: a semirigid airship, or dirigible, designed by Umberto Nobile that crashed in the Arctic Circle on May 23, 1928

  Bedouin : nomadic tribes that live in the deserts of the Middle East

  Budapest : the capital of Hungary, one of the early stops on the airmail routes from England

  cardinal points : the four primary directions on a compass (north, south, east, and west)