Olivia Brophie and the Sky Island Read online

  Olivia Brophie

  and the

  Sky Island

  Olivia Brophie

  and the

  Sky Island

  BOOK TWO OF THE OLIVIA BROPHIE SERIES

  Christopher Tozier

  Copyright © 2013 Christopher Tozier

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Inquiries should be addressed to:

  Pineapple Press, Inc.

  P.O. Box 3889

  Sarasota, Florida 34230

  www.pineapplepress.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Tozier, Christopher.

  Olivia Brophie and the Sky Island / by Christopher Tozier.

  pages cm. — (Olivia Brophie series ; book 2)

  Summary: “Olivia has accidentally frozen all of the world’s water. Worse, her aunt and uncle have been kidnapped by the nefarious Wardenclyffe thugs. With the help of Doug and Gnat, Olivia must fight the forces of evil to save the entire world” — Provided by publisher.

  ISBN 978-1-56164-680-7 (pbk.)

  [1. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. 2. Animals—Fiction. 3. Magic—Fiction. 4. Kidnapping—Fiction. 5. Florida—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.T673Ols 2014

  [Fic]—dc23

  2013039115

  First Edition

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Design by Shé Hicks

  Illustrations by Steve Weaver

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  Contents

  One

  The Cheeto Thief

  Two

  The Study Room

  Three

  Aji el Diablo

  Four

  Vampire Hunters

  Five

  Origami

  Six

  Grub

  Seven

  The Stabilimentum

  Eight

  The Crystal Farmers

  Nine

  The Tetracomb

  Ten

  Sisters and Monsters

  Eleven

  The Enfoldment Box

  Twelve

  The Music of the Tardigrades

  Thirteen

  A Trap

  Fourteen

  Never-ending Pancakes

  Fifteen

  Hovenweep

  Sixteen

  Baby Teeth

  Seventeen

  Tafoni of Sonora

  Eighteen

  Virosa

  Nineteen

  Sun Gazing

  Twenty

  Oolitic

  Twenty-one

  Marimo

  Twenty-two

  The King of Junonia

  Twenty-three

  The Provosts of Wardenclyffe

  Twenty-four

  Acrophobia

  Twenty-five

  A New Horizon

  To Melissa for never-ending love.

  To Buttercup, Cheeto’s favorite girl.

  To my mother for always believing in me.

  To all the children on adventures

  with bears of their own.

  1

  The Cheeto Thief

  Chuck Abernathy of Five Corners, Texas, had been playing Garage Door Smash all morning. In fact, he was on the verge of setting the all-time world record: thirty-eight in a row.

  There are only three rules for Garage Door Smash. First, you need a driveway that slopes down toward the garage, the steeper the better. You have to make sure the garage door is open and the safety switch is disabled. Second, lie down on a skateboard at the top of the driveway, push the garage door remote button, then launch yourself headlong toward the closing door. Third, you pray.

  The trick is to time your descent just right so the heavy door slams shut just as your feet whisk through the crack. Most Garage Door Smashers ride their skateboards feet-first because going head-first is just too scary. But feet-first leaves your head in the most vulnerable position to be smashed by the door. Feet-firsters almost always chicken out at the last second and veer off onto the lawn. In fact, no feet-firster has ever topped seven. Chuck was clearly the best Smasher in the neighborhood, probably the world. He is a head-firster.

  Once, several months ago, Chuck had his left leg trapped beneath the garage door. He had to go to the hospital for X-rays (they were negative.) He felt justified in continuing his reign as the champion Smasher because his mother never explicitly told him not to play it anymore. She had said, “That should teach you a lesson” and “One day, you’ll really be sorry.” But she never actually said, “No.”

  Chuck was on the brink of greatness, the world record thirty-eight successful trips. His only regret was that Willy and John weren’t there to see it. But that was all right. He would know even if no one else believed him. He hitched up his shorts and tossed the skateboard between his hands until he found the proper balance. He ran one hand through his big shrubby hair. Unlike the other boys, Chuck didn’t lie down on the skateboard before pushing the remote. He always waited until the garage door started dropping before launching his whole body into the air and landing on the board already going full speed. The kids who push off are never sure how quickly they can get to full speed. Chuck was consistent. And crazy. That was the secret to his success.

  Number Thirty Eight’s launch was perfect. He could feel it. The air rushed past his face–slight adjustment for a rock, then flatten out—here it comes! The door opening had narrowed to the thinnest of cracks, barely enough to slip under. Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something large and dark emerge from the woods next to the driveway. He turned his head. Clawed feet? Is that a bear? Is that a girl? Bear! Chuck hurtled beneath the closing door, headlong into the lawn mower and a giant mesh sack of soccer balls and orange cones. The garage door slammed shut, plunging him into darkness.

  He could hear the girl talking outside. “Hurry. Hurry!”

  Chuck leaped to his feet searching frantically for the garage remote. It had flown out of his hands on impact. There—by the toolbox. It fumbled in his hands. The door started slowly opening. When the door closes, it seems to slam down with frightening speed. But just try to get it to open quickly. It was excruciating. He lay down on the ground and peeked out the slowly opening crack. Four enormous furry feet took off running toward the woods followed by two worn-out blue sneakers. Chuck shimmied out as soon as the door opened enough. The girl and the bear were gone along with a full bag of Cheetos, two peanut butter sandwiches, a grape soda that he’d only drunk one-third of, and his favorite hooded sweatshirt. He stared at the dark wall of vegetation. He glanced down at the empty lunch plate on the ground and back to the woods. It looked the same as it ever did. Just a bunch of boring plants. But now, it seemed so much more.

  Chuck Abernathy forgot all about the Garage Door Smash record.

  Two hours later, Chuck settled himself onto his bed with a homemade strawberry shake and the game control for his video games. His tongue constantly slid along the newly jagged edge of his front-left incisor. He could hear his mother arguing with the insurance company over emergency dental coverage.

  “Porcelain or gold, Sweetie?” she yelled to him from the other room.

  “Huh?” He did not have the slightest idea what she was yammering about.

  “We would prefer porcelain,” she said back into the phone. “Yes. Uh huh. I see. How much do you say? Well, it was an accident. Yes sir. He . . . uh . . . he slipped on the driveway. I suppose his tooth is still out there. Yes, well you know
how boys are. Oh, excellent. That is great to hear. Yes, we will. Thank you very much.”

  Chuck tuned her out but he did hear enough to catch his own mother in a lie. He hadn’t slipped on the driveway. Actually, he skateboarded full-speed and headlong into the lawn mower. It was epic. Now, his skateboard was locked up inside the car trunk. Chuck couldn’t imagine how he was ever going to play Garage Door Smash again.

  What his mother didn’t know, however, was that story was also a lie. The truth was that Chuck ran so fast to get inside after seeing the bear that he slipped and cracked his tooth on the flowerpot by the front door. When he ran inside yelling “Bear! Bear! Bear!” his mother only saw the blood streaming down his chin. She assumed he had finally injured himself by doing stupid things on his skateboard. At that point, she figured Chuck was delusional with pain, and Chuck figured his Mom was oblivious to anything having to do with reality on this planet. She was too dumb to understand it anyway. So he stopped talking about the whole thing.

  Besides, he was beginning to wonder if he imagined it. The bear was probably a big Labrador retriever. It could have been Barney again. He loved to dig out underneath the fence in his yard down the street and go sniffing out squirrels around the neighborhood. Chuck had only seen a quick glimpse of the intruders before the garage door closed. Who’s to say what happened? All he really knew is somebody stole his lunch and sweatshirt. Geez, it was probably Willy’s older brother Drew. He was always stealing things.

  Nothing exciting ever happened in Five Corners either, except that one time the president visited to give a speech on cattle subsidies and Mayor Danforth demanded everyone wear red T-shirts with “God Bless the President” written across the front. By the end of the speech, half of the angry crowd had taken their shirts off and thrown them on the ground. That was how Five Corners made the evening news. Three hundred angry, shirtless Texans, one embarrassed mayor, and one shocked president.

  All thoughts about dogs and T-shirts erased from Chuck’s brain when he looked out the window. He could see the dark, jagged line of trees outlined against the evening sky. There, at the top of a sycamore tree, fireflies were arranging themselves in the branches. More and more fireflies gathered in the sycamore. Chuck sat up. Unlike most fireflies, they didn’t flash. Instead, they held their light constant. Slowly, their light started to form familiar shapes until their message was unmistakable. Thousands of fireflies spelled the words “HELP ME” with thick, bright letters. A breeze blew, sending the glowing insects tumbling through the air. One by one, they returned to the sycamore and built the message again.

  Chuck jumped out of bed and ran to the window. There, at the very back of the yard between the old rabbit pen and the woods, stood a brown-haired girl wearing worn-out blue sneakers and his favorite hooded sweatshirt.

  Exactly fifteen seconds later, Chuck stood in the backyard facing the woods with his back to the rabbit pen and house.

  “Hello? Who’s there?” he shouted as he glanced over his shoulder at the house. He could see the bluish flicker of a television casting a glow onto the ground. Mom and her game shows. He turned around.

  “Hi. I need your help.” The girl stood right in front of him. A small stick hung from her tangled hair.

  “Who . . . who are you?” he stammered, a little shocked that she just appeared out of thin air.

  “Listen, do you have a phone?” Her eyes darted back and forth along the wooded edge.

  “Why don’tcha use your own phone?” Chuck answered.

  “Because,” she sighed, “I don’t have a phone.” She lifted her arms up to indicate that she really didn’t have much of anything.

  “Why should I, on account of you chipping my tooth, and that is my sweatshirt you are wearing. Why shouldn’t I call the cops right now?”

  Just then, his Mom swung open the back screen door and peered out into the yard. Olivia slipped back into the shadows. “Chuckie? You aren’t peeing out there again are you?” Mom called out.

  “Shut up, Ma. No!”

  “Well, it’s past your bedtime, Sweetie.” She closed the door and walked back to her game show.

  Olivia smirked and stepped back onto the lawn.

  “What are you laughing at?” Chuck’s face turned bright red.

  “Listen, bring me a phone and I’ll let you touch Hoolie.”

  “Hoolie?”

  “The bear. You know, the one that made you cry and go running into your house and busting your tooth.”

  Chuck’s eyes narrowed. He thought about it for what seemed like an eternity. “All right,” he responded. “Meet me right here at eight in the morning. My Mom goes to Pilates at eight and she won’t be back for a couple of hours.”

  “OK. Thank you. My name is Olivia,” she said, relieved.

  “And don’t forget the bear,” Chuck demanded.

  “Deal.”

  “Oh, and how did you . . . with the fireflies? . . .” But it was too late. Olivia was gone.

  Chuck wandered back toward the house, his mind racing. He was positive that his bag of Cheetos was long gone, but Olivia still had his sweatshirt. He would never be allowed to play Garage Door Smash again. And his chipped tooth was still her fault. But that was all right.

  Chuck Abernathy had a plan.

  2

  The Study Room

  Over the last several weeks, Hoolie had taught Olivia how to stand perfectly still, just beyond the edge of plain sight, and by doing so, remain unnoticed by humans. It struck Olivia as odd that she could hide so completely but not actually be completely hidden. “It must be that humans just don’t pay much attention,” she thought. Olivia shook her head when she thought like that though. It sounded too much like the Bobwhite Witch hissing her hatred for the Dark Eyes through her teeth. But in the end it was true. If you hide too far back in the woods, you are probably overreacting to the situation and more likely to shift your weight and accidentally snap a twig. By hiding half in sight and half out of sight, a balance is achieved, a calmness that cannot be sensed by others. Bears have always known this to be true.

  Usually, Olivia used the hiding trick when a car surprised her on a remote road or a local dog caught a faint sniff of something unusual in its yard. But sometimes she used it to sneak up on people. She did it yesterday when she stole Chuck’s lunch. And she was doing it now as Chuck’s mother opened the front door of their house on her way to Pilates. She calmly watched as Chuck ran out after her, looking around nervously.

  “Um . . . are you going anywhere after your class?” she could hear Chuck asking.

  “Oh dear, you are going to miss me! I’ll come home right after, don’t you worry.” She consoled him roughing up his hair.

  “I love you, Mommy,” Chuck’s words dripped with syrup. But inside, he was rolling his eyes. He wished she would stay out all day but he really needed to know his mother’s schedule for his plan to work.

  “I love you too, Sugarcheeks,” she said kissing him on his forehead and ducking into her small gray car. A quick snort rang out from the bushes. Chuck and his mother looked toward the woods for a few seconds. “Now go ahead and make yourself a snack. I’ll be home before you know it!”

  Olivia had all she could do to not burst out laughing. Who did he think he was fooling? As the car pulled out into the road she started to giggle. Chuck glanced over toward the woods. He couldn’t see her, but he could certainly hear her. He didn’t stop waving at his mom until the car was out of sight.

  “All right, do you want my help or not?” he called out.

  Olivia stepped out of the woods, disturbingly closer than he had anticipated. “Of course I want your help or I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Well come on then. You only have a couple of hours.”

  Olivia started walking toward the front door.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Chuck asked.

  “No, I don’t think so,” she replied.

  “Hoopie? You said I could pet him.” He was more than a little irri
tated.

  “Hoolie, you mean. I wouldn’t be calling a bear by something other than his name if I were you,” Olivia warned. “All right then. Hoolie!” she called to him with more of a whisper than a holler. She said his name so quietly that Chuck could barely hear.

  “How is he going to hear that?” he sneered. But as soon as he finished his question, the large bear stepped out onto the edge of the lawn. Hoolie wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of letting a human child touch him. He was no dog. But he had learned to trust Olivia. He knew the sincerity of her heart. The only thing that really mattered to him was Olivia’s approval. Besides, he was a legend among bears now. The personal companion of the Guardian! How could he fret about a little inconvenience?

  “Well, go on then, Sugarcheeks,” Olivia mocked.

  “What? I just . . . just walk up to him?” Chuck was more than a little surprised at how large Hoolie was. He could feel the hot breath blowing out his enormous nostrils. His feet pressed into the lawn like heavy barbells.

  “Of course. He isn’t going to roll over at your feet.”

  Chuck took a few steps forward. He held out his hand. “Here you go. . . . Don’t be afraid. . . . I . . . I won’t hurt you,” he said slowly.

  “I don’t think Hoolie is worried about you hurting him,” Olivia laughed. “But you are smart to move slowly.”

  His hand shaking uncontrollably, Chuck reached out and touched Hoolie’s shoulder. His thick fur felt like a whisk brush. Hoolie stared directly into Chuck’s eyes. “Extreme,” he said under his breath. Willy and Drew would never believe this. “How many people has he killed?” he asked.

  “Kill? Bears are animals of peace, not war.” Olivia spoke with such authority and confidence that it startled Chuck.

  “P . . p . . peace?”

  “Of course. You think because they are big and have sharp claws that they are only interested in violence?” Olivia never gave it a second’s thought that bears were anything but peaceful—despite the battle with the mammoth skeletons and the Wardenclyffe thugs. “What you call violence is really just them protecting themselves.”