It was the strangest feeling to get lost the moment I stepped out the front door. By the time we reached the sidewalk, I couldn’t remember where the Lindons’ house was at all. Ridge pointed, and told me to turn around, but I guess I kept looking in the wrong direction.
I gave up after a few moments and decided to focus on getting to Thackary Anderthon’s house, which I did know how to find.
“How long will it take us to get to Thackary’s house?” Ridge asked, tugging at the straps on his backpack. We both wore packs so full of peanut butter sandwiches that we could barely zip them shut. I couldn’t bring all of them—not by a long shot. But between the two of us, we must have had at least a hundred.
Does that seem excessive to you? I didn’t know if I’d ever find my way back. And the last thing I wanted was to get hungry while I was trying to save the world.
“Thackary lives in Omaha,” I said.
“How far away is that?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “People always talk about driving there.”
“Then we’ll need a car,” replied Ridge.
“I’ve got something better.” I pointed at him and raised the lidless peanut butter jar. “I wish I could fly to Thackary Anderthon’s house.”
I glanced down as the hourglass emerged from my watch.
“If you want to be able to fly,” said Ridge, “then every bird you see along the way will poop on you.”
Well, that wasn’t going to be very pleasant. But maybe I could dodge. “Sure,” I said. “Bazang.”
My hourglass collapsed, and I didn’t feel any different. Was I just supposed to jump into the air and see what happened? I bent my knees. Ridge shouted something, reaching out for me, but I was too excited to be stopped.
I launched upward, flying straight into the blue July sky. Laughing, I watched the ground fall away beneath me—ten feet, twenty feet, thirty . . .
Something slammed into me with so much force that the air was instantly knocked from my lungs. The peanut butter genie jar flew from my grasp, tumbling out of sight. At the same moment, I was pulled downward by a tremendous unseen force. Halfway to the sidewalk, I collided with Ridge. I didn’t understand how he had managed to get twenty feet off the ground, but we smashed into each other, our bodies pressing together painfully.
For half a second, I thought we might hover there, in midair. Then we began plummeting toward the ground once more, this time with Ridge shrieking in my ear.
I had no idea what was happening, but I managed to get ahold of the situation just before we struck the sidewalk. I gave an upward burst of flight, but Ridge was too heavy and it was barely enough to break our fall. The two of us tumbled onto the concrete.
“What was that?” I groaned, rolling away from Ridge.
“We snapped the tether.” He crawled over and picked up his fallen baseball cap. “I was going to explain, but you just took off.”
“I was excited to fly!” Though I’ll admit, I was much more reluctant now.
“When you opened my genie jar,” Ridge said, “we got tied together for the week.”
“Tied together?” I swiped my hand through the air between us. Wouldn’t you notice a string if you got tied to another person?
“It’s called a tether,” Ridge explained. “It’s invisible. As long as we stay together, it won’t give us any trouble. But if you try to fly off like that . . .” He stood up slowly.
“How far apart can we get?” I asked as he helped me up.
“Forty-two feet,” Ridge answered. “If we ever get more than forty-two feet apart, the tether will remind us to stick together.”
“That was more than a reminder!” I felt my chest to make sure none of my ribs were broken. That invisible force had hit me like a freight train!
“If the tether snaps, it brings us both back together.”
That explained why Ridge had seemed to fly upward, meeting in the middle of our invisible rope.
“What about my wish?” My ability to fly would be totally wasted if I had to stay right by Ridge’s side. He was too heavy to carry.
“There is a way,” Ridge said, looking both ways and then running out into the street. He stooped and picked up the peanut butter jar I had dropped when the tether snapped.
“Is it broken?” I asked as he carried it back to the sidewalk.
“You can’t break a genie jar,” Ridge said.
“Isn’t it made of plastic?” Peanut butter jars were tough, but they didn’t seem indestructible. Surprisingly, though, the thing didn’t even have a scratch from the fall.
Ridge shook his head, black hair bouncing. “It’s protected by the Universe. Nothing can shatter a genie jar.” He handed it to me. “You can order me into the jar. It’ll be a lot easier to carry me around that way.”
“Another wish?” I asked, glancing down at the empty container.
“No,” he said. “You just have to say ‘Ridge, get into the jar,’ and I’ll be forced to obey. But you have to be holding the jar when you give the command.”
“What about the tether?” I put a hand to my chest. “Does it still tie us together when you’re in the jar?”
“Yeah,” Ridge answered. “You’ll have to stay within forty-two feet of the jar at all times.” He gestured at the container. “Let’s give it a try.”
I shrugged. It seemed like the best way to fly with him. “Ridge,” I said, “get into the jar.”
Before my eyes, Ridge instantly turned into a puff of dark smoke and got sucked into the open jar in my hand. Suddenly alone, I peered inside but still couldn’t see anything.
“You in there?” I spoke into the opening.
“YEEEOOOOW!” came Ridge’s shrieking reply. “Get me out of here, Ace!”
I startled, nearly dropping the jar. What was happening to the genie in there? “How?” I shouted. “How do I get you out?”
His voice echoed out the opening. “Same way you got me in here,” he answered, his voice uneasy. “Just say ‘Ridge, get out of the jar.’ Say it!”
“Uhh,” I stammered. “Ridge, get out of the jar!”
Another puff of black smoke, and Ridge appeared. He danced across the lawn, scratching himself all over, as though his clothes were infested with ants.
“What happened to you in there?” I asked.
He finally settled, looking over at me. “It was dark,” he replied. “And a very tight fit. It made me itch all over, but there was no way to scratch it.”
“I thought you lived in there,” I said, holding up the plastic container.
He shook his head. “The jar is usually a doorway to a peaceful place where genies are in a deep sleep and time passes quickly.”
“It didn’t sound too peaceful a second ago,” I pointed out.
“I couldn’t get there,” Ridge explained. “During a quest . . .”
“I see. The Universe doesn’t want you hiding away when you’re supposed to be out here with me.”
“It’s okay for a bit,” he said, shuddering. “Just don’t leave me in there for a long time.”
Well, that was going to put a damper on my flight to Thackary Anderthon’s house. Still, flying in short bursts was better than walking.
“Ridge,” I said. He gave me a pained look, and I said the next part apologetically. “Get into the jar.”