Horns & Wrinkles Read online

  "But I don't know anything about that," Duke squawked.

  "Oh, come off it," Uncle Floyd said. "Every rhino here heard you tell Bo where to find it. Why, she wouldn't even have known about that feather if you hadn't told her."

  "I was desperate," Duke whined.

  "Not to mention pathetic," Uncle Floyd added.

  Other rhinos shared unflattering opinions of Duke until the old lady interrupted.

  "Do you know where the feather is now?" she asked.

  "I saw her put it in her vest pocket." Duke sniffled.

  "That's it, then," the old lady stated. "Once I get the feather, we'll be getting out of here."

  "And just how are we doing that?" the rhino with the eye patch wanted to know.

  "With a trick or two."

  "They better be good ones," Uncle Floyd said. "The last rhino who got caught making a break for it got tucked into popovers."

  "I don't trust her," Duke whimpered.

  "You'd rather trust Bodacious Deepthink?" I asked.

  "Let him," called a rhino from in back.

  "Not me," said another.

  "His neck."

  "Quiet!" the old lady whispered. "My helpers and I have work to do, and we need to do it while Bo's asleep. When we get back, I want you all ready to charge across the bridge."

  "Bo's there!" There were several gasps.

  "She won't be when the time comes," vowed the old lady.

  Forty-nine

  Getting the Stone Feather

  We left the rhinos without answering any more questions, though there were plenty of them flying around. Once out of earshot of the herd, the old lady held up a hand for everyone to halt.

  "Which tunnel takes us up top?" she asked, speaking to Reliable St. John.

  "That one," the cave cricket answered from Stump's shoulder. He dipped an antennae toward a tiny tunnel far across the cavern. "Try that one."

  "Way over there?" The old lady lifted an amused eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

  "That's the one."

  "I was hoping it would be," the old lady said. Turning her back on the tiny tunnel, she pointed at a large one directly opposite it. "How about that one? Would that get us home too?"

  "Better skip that one." Reliable St. John sounded hopeful that she wouldn't. "It's a dead end."

  We now faced a tunnel big around as a school bus but without a hint of yellow anywhere. The only color to that tunnel was black. Its mouth was barred with stalagmites and stalactites that looked like sharp teeth in bad need of a dentist, worse need of floss. But the two front teeth had been punched out, leaving a hole big enough to scrape through, though Bodacious Deepthink probably had to turn sideways and hold her breath to make it. A bigger giveaway was the path leading up to the tunnel. Shiny and worn, it led all the way from the stone bridge where Bodacious Deepthink slept.

  "That's the one," the old lady said, satisfied that she'd sifted the truth out of the cricket's lies. "Now I want you three to collect a lantern and go stand by that tunnel. Leave the lantern covered until I get the rhinos headed your way, then whip off the cover and give the glass a good rap to get the star glowing. These bullies will need something bright to aim for."

  "But"—Stump faltered—"where are you going to be?"

  "Why, getting the feather," she joshed, trying to make it sound like a walk in the park. "And if I can't get back to you, just go on without me. You'll have the cricket to guide you, and I'll meet you up top."

  The old lady sounded way too cheery to be reassuring. To make matters darker, nobody could think of anything else to say, so with nods and gulps all around, we parted. When the old lady could no longer hear us, Reliable St. John whispered to Stump, "Wrong way, wrong way, wrong way." At least that much was encouraging.

  To reach the tunnel, we had to bound across the stream, sidestep crevices filled with snoring rock trolls, and steer clear of other trolls who'd fallen asleep out in the open, next to their pickaxes. At one point we passed Jim Dandy's father, Double-knot, curled up against a wheelbarrow. Stump held up a quarter-step, maybe thinking of waking him, but Reliable St. John kept him moving by commenting, "He'd come quietly, I'm sure."

  Not far past Double-knot we reached the path leading to our tunnel.

  "Not that way," Reliable St. John said.

  By then the old lady was balancing herself on the bridge's stone rail, right in front of Bodacious Deepthink's chest, which was rising and lowering in time to her snores. Pulling on the stone glove, the old lady reached for the stone feather in Bo's vest pocket.

  No go.

  The rock troll's folded hands blocked the way.

  To fix that, she sprinkled fairy dust over Bo's hands, both of which began to rise as if leading a sleepwalker. That gave the old lady the opening she needed. Easing the feather out, she held it up for us to see. Stump waved frantically for her to join us, but she wasn't done on the bridge. With her free hand, she grabbed handful after handful of fairy dust and tossed it over the sleeping Bo.

  The Great Rock Troll squirmed as though tickled by the fairy dust spattering across her rocky shoulders and hips. The dust melted and glowed as it sank through her tough old hide.

  "Let's watch. Let's watch. Let's watch."

  Hearing Reliable St. John say that got us moving.

  Stump lifted a covered lantern off a nearby wagon and handed it to me. Through a metal loop on its top, I felt the star waking, though at first its glow barely passed through the burlap cover.

  By the time I peeked back at the old lady, she had left the bridge and was following us, unwinding white rope from around her waist as she went. About halfway to us, she stopped between two boulders, one of which looked like a giant bunny standing on its ears, the other like an oversize gumball machine. She knotted one end of the rope around the bunny's ears, laid the middle of it across the path, and looped the other end loosely around the gumball machine.

  "What's she doing there?" Stump asked.

  "It's for tripping," I said.

  "Trolls don't fall," Reliable stated.

  I was relieved to hear that lie, though the old lady's handiwork did leave me with one question. What good would the rope do while flat on the ground?

  That's where the old lady left it, though. Wheeling around, she headed back toward Bodacious Deepthink. Stump tried pssting at her, but with all the snoring trolls around us, it was wasted breath. This time she avoided the bridge, where Bo was still slightly aglow, and bounded over the black stream, headed for the corral. Once there, she swung the wooden gate wide open.

  No rhinos rushed to join her.

  The bigger rhinos tried bumping and shoving the smaller ones forward, but the ones being pushed dug their hooves in and held back. Farthest from the gate stood Duke, defiantly munching on Farmer Bailey's hay.

  All at once the pushing and shoving ceased.

  Back on the bridge, Bodacious Deepthink was beginning to swell and rise like a hot-air balloon. Her shoulders and arms were following her hands upward. Lagging behind were her legs and hips. The old lady dashed back to throw handfuls of dust over the rock troll's lower half.

  And still the Great Rock Troll slept. As she lifted up, she mumbled and smacked her flinty lips as though sampling something in a lovely dream. The way her body creaked as it expanded and rose, it was a wonder she didn't wake herself.

  For every inch she lifted, the rhinos crowded an inch closer to the gate.

  At about ten feet above the bridge, Bodacious Deepthink leveled off, bigger than ever. The rhino herd had edged up to the open gate, though not a horn farther. To show them that everything was safe, the old lady trotted right under the floating rock troll.

  Still, no one followed, not even Uncle Floyd. Stopping beneath Bodacious, the old lady waved to them like a tourist. By then the fairy dust had sifted all the way through Bo, making her underside glow faintly as sparkling gold and green specks began to flake off her. Ever so slightly, Bodacious Deepthink began to slowly settle back down.

 
; It was Uncle Floyd who summoned his courage first. Butting his way to the front of the herd, he shuffled across the bridge, passing directly beneath Bodacious Deepthink without a scratch. Weak from hunger, he had to pull up several times to catch his breath, and once he even tripped, crashing to his knees. No matter. Bodacious Deepthink snoozed on.

  As soon as Uncle Floyd cleared the bridge, Stump whipped the burlap feed sack off the lantern I was holding and knocked the glass with a knuckle. The shooting star inside came to life, shining like a beacon, and the old lady shoved Uncle Floyd down the path toward it. He didn't have any fast in him—barely any slow—but it was a start.

  Seeing that, all the bullies but Duke broke for the bridge at once, shoving and pushing and tripping to get across first. A huge rhino jam followed, right beneath Bodacious Deepthink. Thank goodness she was snoring loud as ever and never heard the commotion.

  Maybe the rhinos would have sorted everything out sooner or later. Bodacious Deepthink wasn't sinking that fast, and one or two of the rhinos, with some help from the old lady, did spurt free of the herd and gallop after Uncle Floyd. But then Duke looked up from his bale of hay, saw that he was being left behind, and bellowed out with all his might, "Hey! What about me?"

  He wasn't satisfied with yelling either. Lowering his horn, he barreled out of the corral to plow into the back of the herd with all his might. The collision caused the middle of the herd to buckle upward, pushing a rhino wearing a baseball cap onto the backs of the others.

  By then Bodacious Deepthink had sunk to a height of seven or eight feet above the bridge. The horn of the lifted rhino stabbed her bottom, and that poke did what all the bickering and shouting had failed to. The Great Rock Troll woke.

  Fifty

  Blue-Wings

  Rubbing her eyes, Bodacious Deepthink tried sitting up. That was a bust. Her middle went down, her two ends up.

  "WHAT THE..."

  Feeling a poke to her underside, she patted beneath herself and found her prize herd of rhinos about to escape. She cut loose with a roar that shook rocks from the cavern's walls.

  The rhino with the baseball cap lurched across the backs of the others and jumped for it. A couple of rhinos at the front of the pileup broke free to pound after him. At the back of the herd, Duke kept right on ramming away, which cleared some space too.

  All at once, the logjam broke loose and the herd stampeded for freedom, forcing the old lady to jump off the path. Uncle Floyd was nearly trampled.

  Bodacious Deepthink twisted, grabbing for them, but the squirming shook up the fairy dust still inside her, making her swell and rise. Plus, she kept filling her lungs to bellow. The extra air made her go up even faster.

  "STOP THEM! STOP THEM!! STOP THEM!!!"

  Maybe Bodacious Deepthink only screamed it once and the rest were echoes. Either way, all the shouts had trolls staggering out of holes, rubbing sleep from their eyes, and shouting back:

  "Who's them?"

  "What's them?"

  "Where's them?"

  Every corner of the cavern had trolls whipping burlap covers off lanterns. With the growing light, there was plenty to see and nowhere to hide.

  The two fastest rhinos had already reached the tunnel entrance and were fighting over who would squeeze through the gap first.

  "Me!"

  "No, me!"

  They wouldn't listen to a thing that Stump or I said, not even when Stump broke rocks over their heads. Behind them, the rest of the herd was gaining fast. Duke had used his weight to bull his way to the middle of the pack, but Uncle Floyd was falling behind with every step. Handing the lantern to Stump, I dashed to help my uncle, though reaching him wasn't easy. A herd of stampeding bullies doesn't make room for anyone, and Duke, seeing his chance, head-butted me off the path.

  Up above, Bodacious Deepthink rolled from side to side, squirming to see everything. The rocking back and forth shook up the fairy dust inside her even more, sending her all the higher. With a better view, she had more to shout about.

  "GET THOSE RHINOS! GET THAT GIRL! THAT OLD LADY! GET HER! AND GET ME DOWN!"

  Every rock troll in the place gawked upward, with a mouth like an open rain barrel. Thudding against a ledge, Bo grabbed ahold of it and cracked off chunks to hurl at the trolls below, which sent them screaming after us.

  By then I'd reached Uncle Floyd, who'd made it to the rope the old lady had laid across the path.

  "You can do it," I said, waving him on.

  "Better leave me," he croaked.

  "To them?" The trolls were closing in on us.

  Rock trolls aren't built for speed any more than a boulder is, but just like a boulder headed downhill, once they start rolling, they stay rolling, gaining speed as they go.

  Uncle Floyd took one look and started shuffling again, though first he had to step over the old lady's rope. His hooves had so little oomph in them that I had to help lift his two rear ones over the rope. Once past the rope, he found enough breath to say, "The rope. Stretch it."

  Now I understood why the old lady hadn't pulled it tight earlier. The rhinos had to clear it before it would do us any good. Giving Uncle Floyd one last push, I scrambled back to the rope, reaching it barely a dozen steps ahead of the lead rock trolls. They would have had me if the old lady hadn't come to the rescue.

  Climbing up on the bridge railing, she whipped out her slingshot and started shooting out lanterns. With each pop and crash of glass, a new shooting star escaped.

  "SAVE THE LANTERNS!" Bodacious Deepthink thundered.

  That order went against her first orders about stopping the herd and getting me and pulling her down. Trolls skidded to a halt everywhere, confused.

  Forgetting about the rope, I yanked out my slingshot and went after the glass lanterns too. My every third or fourth shot nailed a lantern and set a star loose. Freed-up stars whizzed and spun all over the place, sparking off walls and forcing rock trolls to dive for cover. Before long, some began finding their way up the hole leading to Farmer Bailey's pasture. The cave slowly dimmed.

  The old lady kept on firing her slingshot, even as rock trolls advanced on her from everywhere. At the last instant, when about to be grabbed, she flung her slingshot at the nearest troll, beaning him on the snout. "Shoo!"

  Reaching into a pocket, she tossed a handful of fairy dust over the stream and leaped into it just as three rock trolls jumped for her.

  The old lady floated in the fairy dust, soaking all the colors up. From her finger, she pulled off her silver ring, which instantly grew to the size of a crown, and placed it on her head. As soon as the crown touched her white hair, she glowed like sunrise over a snowy field. At the same time, she started to shrink.

  Rubbing my eyes didn't change anything.

  The smaller she got, the stronger the old lady glowed. In seconds, she was no bigger than my hand, with a pair of blue wings beating on her back.

  "A BLUE-WING?" Bodacious Deepthink screamed, outraged. "IN MY HOUSE? GET HER!"

  Troll hands grabbed for the old lady, getting air. From lantern to lantern she looped, opening their doors with both hands and standing back as the stars burst out. I laughed to see it, then got busy with my slingshot, helping out as best I could.

  "GET THE STONE BIRDS!" Bodacious screamed as the cavern dimmed more.

  A small mob of rock trolls began tugging on an iron grate in the cavern floor, waking up something below that screeched worse than busted violins.

  When the grate popped up, out burst three dark creatures that were chicken-size and made of stone—gritty stuff with jagged edges. Steering wasn't their strong suit, not with all the stone feathers plucked from their wings, but once airborne, they zoomed after the old lady, zeroing in on her from behind.

  "Look out!" I yelled.

  All the cheering and jeering of the rock trolls, along with the stone birds screeching, drowned me out. I held my breath, expecting the worst until the old lady dipped at the last instant and the fastest bird went barreling past her.


  The chase was on.

  Again and again, stone beaks snapped where the old lady had been. Two rock trolls got turned to stone when the birds overshot the old lady and bounced off them instead. One touch from those birds petrified the trolls as solid as my grandpa.

  I turned my slingshot on them without luck. One time I connected, but the gravel bounced harmlessly off the bird's back.

  Then, with only three lanterns left, the old lady began to tire, causing her glow to flicker. She wobbled before one of the remaining lanterns as the stone birds closed. Her glow winked out. I gasped. The stone birds screeched.

  At the last possible second the old lady's glow flashed on and she lifted away. Two of the birds crashed into the lantern with their beaks. The third bird plowed into their stone tail feathers. Shattered glass exploded everywhere, followed by the freed shooting star.

  Aside from the lantern Stump held back at the tunnel, only one other lantern was still blazing. An angry knot of rock trolls protected it with pickaxes.

  "Shoot it," the old lady called out, whizzing as close to me as she dared without getting caught.

  Ducking, I caught a glimpse of her face, which looked centuries younger and as beautiful as someone who's famous for being beautiful. By then I'd emptied my sack of gravel and had to hunt for stones on the cavern floor, but a large troll protected their last lantern with a shovel, knocking down my every shot.

  The old lady's glow began flickering again, leaving her no time or strength to offer more advice. The stone birds were closing fast.

  When she rose up the hole to Farmer Bailey's pasture, the stone birds screeched right after her, pecking at her tiny heels.

  The cave fell silent like an old church. That didn't last long.

  "GET ME DOWN!" bellowed Bodacious Deepthink.

  Fifty-one

  Tasty

  Not a one of the rhinos stranded outside the tunnel knew what taking turns meant. They all tried to cram through the tunnel mouth at once, no matter how loud or often Stump shouted, "Back off!" Duke thrashed about in the thick of the frenzy, kicking up the biggest fuss of all, and even Uncle Floyd, weak as he was, panicked and tried butting his way ahead.