Flight of the Phoenix by R. L. Lafevers Page A
Authors: R. L. Lafevers
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Children's Books, Fantasy, People & Places, Action & Adventure, Family, Juvenile Fiction, Action & Adventure - General, Magic, Fantasy & Magic, Ages 9-12 Fiction, Social Issues, Readers, Animals, Girls & Women, Adventure and Adventurers, Mythical, middle east, Myths, Fables, Parents, Self-Esteem & Self-Reliance, Emotions & Feelings, Boys & Men, Animals - Mythical, legends, Chapter Books, Children: Grades 3-4, Orphans & Foster Homes, Birds, Animals - Birds, Phoenix (Mythical bird), Readers - Chapter Books, People & Places - Middle East
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They're like an elemental spirit. One that can be controlled by sorcerers and told to do bad things."
Greasle snorted. "You ain't no sorcerer."
"Well, I know that. And you know that. But Fadia doesn't. It was the only bargaining tool we had. If she's afraid you're a jinni and will hurt her people, she'll do what I say. So if we run into the Bedouin again, you be sure to look as jinnilike as you can."
"Right-o." Greasle put her fingers into her mouth and drew it wide open, then wiggled her ears.
"Perfect," Nate said.
109
***
Chapter Fourteen
A fter the close call with Fadia, Nate was finally able to get some rest. He curled up in his bedroll and fell asleep before his head hit the sand.
Hours later, he woke up feeling disoriented. Unsure what had awakened him, he sat up, listening for voices. He heard nothing.
The angle of the light told him it was late afternoon. He'd slept most of the day. Maybe he just woke up because he wasn't tired anymore.
110
Then he heard it. A faint ripping sound. That was what had awakened him.
He looked toward the noise and saw the tip of a knife cutting through the wall of the tent. The blade slowly worked its way through the material, making as little noise as possible.
Once the knife disappeared, a thick, hairy hand emerged through the tear. It groped silently about, as if looking for something.
The hand felt its way toward Aunt Phil's pack. After another minute of groping, it landed on the corner of The Book of Beasts. Aunt Phil's words echoed in Nate's head: I would protect the book with my life. Before thinking it through, Nate sprang forward and grabbed the book with both hands. The intruder's hand gripped tighter, its knuckles growing white.
"Greasle! Help!" Nate yelled, not knowing what else to do.
The gremlin joined him. She gripped the stranger's hand and sank her sharp little teeth into it.
There was a bellow of pain. The hand let go of the book and flung the gremlin off.
111
[Image: Greasle and the hand.]
112
Greasle did a somersault, came up on her feet, and hurried over to the tent flap. Nate was close on her heels, the book safely in his hands.
They stumbled outside in time to see a man in black robes running to a waiting camel. Once he'd clambered onto the animal's back, it lurched to its feet and broke into a run. The man's turban was knocked from his head. Nate only had time to note that the intruder had bushy ginger-colored hair before he disappeared over the ridge.
"Who was that, I'd like to know!" Greasle spat. "He tasted right awful, he did."
"I don't know. But I think he was after Aunt Phil's Book of Beasts."
"Why would anyone want that stupid ol' thing?"
"I don't know," Nate said. He was tired of that answer. There were so very many things he didn't know. A sick feeling rose up in his stomach. But then Greasle came over and leaned up against him. Her warm presence at his side reminded him that he had done the right thing by her. Even if it had meant disagreeing with Aunt Phil.
A cool breeze stirred. Nate glanced overhead. The sun had set. It was time to tend the nest. Even if he failed at everything else, he could still try to get that right.
113
He shoved the book into his rucksack, then slung the pack over his shoulders and got to work.
***
Greasle quickly grew bored watching the nest. She curled up and fell asleep at Nate's feet.
Perched atop the saddle, he leaned against the palm tree and fed a cinnamon twig into the smoldering ash. Was it just his imagination or had the ash taken on a more solid shape? It seemed lumpier to him. If he squinted his eyes, it was almost bird shaped.
"What am I going to do about Aunt Phil?" he asked the small pile of ash. "How can I rescue her when I have no camels, no weapons, nothing?"
114
"Who are you talking to?" Greasle asked sleepily from her spot near his feet.
"No one," Nate said, embarrassed to have been caught. "Just thinking out loud."
"Well, stop it." Greasle yawned. "Some of us wants to
Greasle snorted. "You ain't no sorcerer."
"Well, I know that. And you know that. But Fadia doesn't. It was the only bargaining tool we had. If she's afraid you're a jinni and will hurt her people, she'll do what I say. So if we run into the Bedouin again, you be sure to look as jinnilike as you can."
"Right-o." Greasle put her fingers into her mouth and drew it wide open, then wiggled her ears.
"Perfect," Nate said.
109
***
Chapter Fourteen
A fter the close call with Fadia, Nate was finally able to get some rest. He curled up in his bedroll and fell asleep before his head hit the sand.
Hours later, he woke up feeling disoriented. Unsure what had awakened him, he sat up, listening for voices. He heard nothing.
The angle of the light told him it was late afternoon. He'd slept most of the day. Maybe he just woke up because he wasn't tired anymore.
110
Then he heard it. A faint ripping sound. That was what had awakened him.
He looked toward the noise and saw the tip of a knife cutting through the wall of the tent. The blade slowly worked its way through the material, making as little noise as possible.
Once the knife disappeared, a thick, hairy hand emerged through the tear. It groped silently about, as if looking for something.
The hand felt its way toward Aunt Phil's pack. After another minute of groping, it landed on the corner of The Book of Beasts. Aunt Phil's words echoed in Nate's head: I would protect the book with my life. Before thinking it through, Nate sprang forward and grabbed the book with both hands. The intruder's hand gripped tighter, its knuckles growing white.
"Greasle! Help!" Nate yelled, not knowing what else to do.
The gremlin joined him. She gripped the stranger's hand and sank her sharp little teeth into it.
There was a bellow of pain. The hand let go of the book and flung the gremlin off.
111
[Image: Greasle and the hand.]
112
Greasle did a somersault, came up on her feet, and hurried over to the tent flap. Nate was close on her heels, the book safely in his hands.
They stumbled outside in time to see a man in black robes running to a waiting camel. Once he'd clambered onto the animal's back, it lurched to its feet and broke into a run. The man's turban was knocked from his head. Nate only had time to note that the intruder had bushy ginger-colored hair before he disappeared over the ridge.
"Who was that, I'd like to know!" Greasle spat. "He tasted right awful, he did."
"I don't know. But I think he was after Aunt Phil's Book of Beasts."
"Why would anyone want that stupid ol' thing?"
"I don't know," Nate said. He was tired of that answer. There were so very many things he didn't know. A sick feeling rose up in his stomach. But then Greasle came over and leaned up against him. Her warm presence at his side reminded him that he had done the right thing by her. Even if it had meant disagreeing with Aunt Phil.
A cool breeze stirred. Nate glanced overhead. The sun had set. It was time to tend the nest. Even if he failed at everything else, he could still try to get that right.
113
He shoved the book into his rucksack, then slung the pack over his shoulders and got to work.
***
Greasle quickly grew bored watching the nest. She curled up and fell asleep at Nate's feet.
Perched atop the saddle, he leaned against the palm tree and fed a cinnamon twig into the smoldering ash. Was it just his imagination or had the ash taken on a more solid shape? It seemed lumpier to him. If he squinted his eyes, it was almost bird shaped.
"What am I going to do about Aunt Phil?" he asked the small pile of ash. "How can I rescue her when I have no camels, no weapons, nothing?"
114
"Who are you talking to?" Greasle asked sleepily from her spot near his feet.
"No one," Nate said, embarrassed to have been caught. "Just thinking out loud."
"Well, stop it." Greasle yawned. "Some of us wants to
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