TIM PANTED HARD, trying to breathe through Oliver’s suffocating clutches.
Well, one side benefit of fear, Tim thought. It finally shut Oliver up.
A roar, and the tiger was joined by a leopard. And then a lion.
They each sniffed, coming so close that Tim could feel their whiskers, could smell their pungent animal scent.
Okay, if there ever was a time for magic, Tim told himself, that time is now. But what do I do? Make ourselves disappear? Make them disappear? Fear made Tim’s brain go a mile a minute; first one idea would occur to him, then another and another—all in the space of seconds.
“Uh, tiger, lion go away,” Tim began, trying to figure out some kind of chant or spell. “That is what I have to say.”
He shook his head. How lame can you get? he admonished himself. He could feel his own heart and Oliver’s thudding hard.
The lion and tiger seemed to be having a roaring competition. The leopard sat on its haunches and watched them for a moment. Then its intense focus shifted to Tim. It began to creep closer.
“Stop!” The girl who had been riding the elephant stood behind the animals. “Stop, I said. We must bring these three to the high council. We must not delay any longer.”
The tiger, the lion, and the leopard each gave Tim and Oliver a long hungry look, then turned. The tiger’s tail flicked Tim’s nose.
“Hey!” Tim yelped. He rubbed his nose. That tiger’s tail had a powerful swing.
“Is the game over now?” Oliver asked.
“Yes,” Tim said, dragging Oliver to his feet. “The game is over now.”
He spotted a familiar shadow on the ground. When he turned around, he saw Suzy floating above them. A long vine was tied around her wrists. Tim realized Maxine held the other end of the vine. She’d captured her.
“Come,” Maxine said. “They’re expecting us.”
Tim filed past her, defeated, Oliver clutching his hand.
“I’m sorry, Suzy,” Tim said.
“That’s okay, Timmy-wimmy. You tried your best. That’s all a girlfriend can expect of her boyfriend.”
He didn’t bother to correct her again about that boyfriend stuff. Not after he had blundered so badly and put her at such risk.
At length, they arrived at a clearing where an elaborate clubhouse sat in the enormous branches of a massive tree. The kids Tim had seen squabbling about his arrival stood there, waiting expectantly.
They must have heard us coming, Tim thought. His nose wrinkled at the powerful animal scent surrounding him. Or maybe they smelled us.
Maxine rode her elephant right up to Wat.
“Well done, Maxine,” one-handed Wat said. “Truly nobly done.”
“They weren’t that hard to find,” Maxine replied. “My friends got them pretty easy. So here they are. All yours.”
Tim could feel hot animal breath on the back of his neck again. He edged slowly and carefully away from the leopard behind him. If this was a cartoon, Tim thought, I’d look like a great big burger reflected in that cat’s eyes.
“Tim, Suzy. I’m Wat.”
“We already sort of met,” Tim said. “Where was it? Oh yes…you were trying to think of a nice way to welcome me. You hadn’t quite decided to have me hunted by wild animals back then.”
“We do what we must,” Wat replied.
“Timmy, are you going to turn them into toads now?” Suzy asked.
“Not yet, Suzy.”
“Pity.”
Tim thought it was a pity, too. But he guessed that the only chance they’d have of getting home would involve learning more from the inhabitants of Free Country. And they wouldn’t be able to help him at all if they were toads. Assuming he could even figure out how to transform them.
“Maxine.” Wat addressed the girl on her elephant. “Will you come with us to the high council meeting?”
“I don’t think so. I’m kind of tired. I’m going back with my friends for a while.”
Maxine handed Wat the vine that served as Suzy’s leash. The boy in the overcoat—Daniel, Tim remembered—wrapped a jump rope around Tim’s wrists. Daniel must have noticed Tim’s surprised expression. The boy shrugged.
“We only have toys in Free Country. No proper weapons.” He gave the jump rope a sharp tug, causing Tim to wince. “But we can improvise, can’t we?”
Daniel leaned in close. “What’ve you done with Marya?” he whispered.
“Nothing!” Tim exclaimed. “She got me to come here and I never saw her again. She’s got a lot of explaining to do, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t,” Daniel snapped.
“But you just did,” Tim argued. “You said”—Tim mimicked Daniel’s cockney accent—“‘What’ve you done with Marya?’”
Daniel shoved a bright blue handkerchief into Tim’s mouth.
Okay, Tim thought. I guess this conversation is over.
Maxine rode her elephant into the grove she had claimed as home. Here she lived with the bears, monkeys, giraffes, tigers, horses, birds, and cats she had as her chosen companions. If it flew, crawled, galloped, or climbed, it was welcome. As long as it wasn’t human.
Maxine slid down from the elephant and addressed her menagerie of friends.
“I thought I ought to wait until we got away from the others to scold you,” she declared. “I wasn’t about to do it in front of those kids. But Mr. Leopard, I know you were going to eat that Tim boy when he ran away.”
The leopard lowered its eyes, its spotted tail flicking.
“You would have,” Maxine insisted, “if I hadn’t made you stop. But you know how terrible it is to be hunted.”
“Like to run and chase,” said the leopard. “Like to sniff and follow.”
“What we do,” said the tiger.
“Rabbit thing tell us if we catch, we eat it,” added the lion.
Maxine stared at the animals. “He was lying to you,” she fumed. “I don’t think I trust Jack Rabbit anymore. He’s not a real rabbit, you know.”
“We know,” said the leopard. “Wrong smell.”
“Well, don’t trust people,” Maxine warned. “And Jack Rabbit is people. Don’t trust any human but me!”
“We eat Jack Rabbit?” the tiger asked hopefully.
“No,” Maxine said firmly. “I don’t like him—or trust him—but it’s not good to eat other animals. And a person is just a clothed animal, only less interesting.”
The tiger’s tail flicked back and forth. “All eat each other. Sometime alive. Sometime dead.”
“Eat deer when we catch,” explained the lion. “We die, buzzards eat us.”
“Would you eat me?” Maxine asked.
“No,” said the leopard.
“Yes,” said the tiger.
“Maybe,” said the lion.
Maxine knew she could not ask them to go against their true natures. Their essence was meat eating. She had been wrong in thinking she might change them. It was unfair that she kept them with her—so close to temptation. It was asking for trouble. She knew it, even if the animals did not.
“I think all you lions, tigers, leopards, and wolves and cheetahs better go away,” she said.
“We like to be near you,” the tiger protested.
“We want to stay,” said the lion.
Maxine shook her head. “Well, I’m sorry, but you can’t.” She stared down at the ground. She knew if she looked into their beautiful, deep eyes, she’d give in. And she couldn’t. She had the other animals to think of. In nature they wouldn’t all be living together, prey among their predators. It was only her power that allowed it. But she had to let the carnivores leave.
“I like you all, too,” she admitted, “but how can I live with someone who might want to eat me?” She looked up again. “You can still visit sometimes, if you want to.”
“Yes,” said the tiger.
“We come,” agreed the lion.
“Sometime,” added the leopard.
“Good-bye,” Maxine said, having trouble getting out the simple word. She cleared her throat. “And stay away from the other people,” she warned. “They’ll mix up your minds and try to make you work for them. Or maybe kill you and use your skins for rugs.”
The elephant wrapped its leathery trunk around her, lifted her up, and set her on its shoulders.
“We’ll go away, too,” she told the remaining animals. “Somewhere no one will find us.”
They moved forward as a herd—the gazelles and giraffes, the small cats and birds. The elephant’s ambling gait soothed her. “Maybe we can find a nice place,” she said dreamily, “with sweet grass and nuts and berries. Good stuff to eat. Better than eating animals or people. With a pool and a waterfall and trees to climb.”
As Maxine described her ideal home, Free Country provided it. The berries burst from bushes, the air sweetened with the fresh grasses, and nuts—already shelled—fell from the trees into the waiting mouths of squirrels and chipmunks.
“And no other people anymore,” she declared, “all arguing and scheming and telling stupid lies. These Free Country people are just as bad as grown-ups. Come on, let’s find a good place to sleep.”
The elephant came to a stop in front of a cave. Maxine slid down the elephant’s trunk and peered inside. “It’s cozy in here,” she declared. She went in, followed by many of her animal friends. A large black grizzly bear lay down and curled up on the floor of the cave.
Maxine crept over to the bear and snuggled into its soft fur. He was her favorite, all warm and cuddly. He reminded her of her daddy.
“You won’t eat me, will you?” she asked the bear.
The bear didn’t answer in words—he never spoke—but he made gentle, comforting, snuffly sounds.
“I know you eat meat sometimes,” Maxine said, “but you don’t have to. You’re clever—you can choose. I have to choose, too, you know. I have to choose whether to stay here or to go back home.
“I love Free Country. It’s the only place where I truly feel like I’m home,” she mused. “But sometimes I wish it was even more perfect than it is.”
She sighed. “When Jack Rabbit told me how bad I was needed here, I thought all the other kids would come and we’d learn how to save the world. But nobody knows what’s happening, and I’m confused again.”
One thing she did know, though. She did not trust Jack Rabbit. Not one bit.