as though it could no longer contain the relief of being alive mixed with the worry for the others, she cried.
Petula was worried too, but in another way she had never felt happier. For when she’d been spinning down through the sky in the storm, she had realized she wasn’t ready to die yet. She wanted to live. Life was wonderful —full of
A mongrel with wolflike features and scruffy, tufty brown hair. This was the closest he’d come to her. It was as if he wanted to introduce himself, for he looked straight at her and sniffed at the air. Then he approached.
“Good evening,” he said, sitting down beside her. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to introduce myself. My name is Canis. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your breed before.” Petula was impressed. Most dogs couldn’t help having a close sniff before they introduced themselves. This dog had manners.
“I’m a pug,” she explained. “I come from a long way away. My name is Petula. It’s great to meet you—I haven’t spoken to another dog for days.”
“That makes two of us!” Canis replied.
He was one of the messiest-faced dogs Petula had ever met, but his eyes were wise and gentle.
“In fact,” he went on, “the last dog I spoke to was in the village down the mountain, and that was weeks ago. I met a couple of wild dogs a few months back, but usually they’re on a different mountainside. Occasionally I hear them howl at night.”
Molly heard the sound of a generator burrowing mechanical noise into the evening air. It was coming from a hut nearby. She knocked on the door.
“Come in!”
The door creaked as it swung open. The main room was small and very full. Its walls were lined with books, and the tables were laden with microscopes of varying sizes and pads with writing on them and white sheets of paper with drawings. Bas was working on a drawing now, under a bright light. The wind-powered generator provided the electricity for this light, and Bas obviously only turned it on when he really needed it.
“You’re very good at drawing,” Molly observed. “I would never dare to do it in ink straightaway like that. I’d smudge it or make a mistake. Anyway, I can’t draw anywhere near as well as that.”
“Oh, well, you have other talents,” Bas said. “This bobbly plant with its dangling fronds is from a tree called dragon’s blood. This variety grows in the cloud forest. Under its bark is a resin that is bloodred. It is good for healing wounds. I used it on your head wound. You’d be amazed how many amazing plant medicines there are up here. It’s like nature’s pharmacy. That’s one good reason why we should stop chopping the forest down, just in case there is a cure for some disease in the forest.” He shook his head. “There are amazing orchids up here, too. So pretty. I like the insects, too, and sometimes draw them just for fun.” He pointed to one wall covered with drawings of insects. “My favorite one is that insect that looks like a leaf.” There were photographs of monkeys and birds and spiders.
“Did you take these?” asked Molly.
“Yes,” Bas said, concentrating on the stem of his dragon’s blood plant. “That little monkey is a capuchin monkey. Call him Cappuccino. See the way his black hair looks like a skullcap on the top of his head? And the way he’s all fluffy with that white part there? Well, he looks a bit like a nice frothy cup of coffee, doesn’t he? Cappucinno suits him.” Molly looked at the small brown monkey with the furry white chest and face. “He’s eating a tomato I gave him. Sweet, isn’t he? He’s around here a lot. Mind you, he’s not always sweet. He’s a very good judge of people. Anyway, I’ve been thinking. I reckon you’re strong enough to make the journey to the Logan Stones. On the way, we can look for your friends. Chances are, if they’ve got the coordinates, they’ll be heading in that direction, too. Now, want to draw a picture? It might relax you. Take your mind off your troubles.”
Molly sat down. Bas passed her a pencil and an eraser. “Fancy drawing a twig? Twigs are good. I love twigs. Don’t hurry it. You’ve got the whole evening. The more you practice, the better you will get, for sure.” A scratching noise outside attracted his attention. “Or look,” he said, pointing to a tree outside. “There’s Cappuccino. You could try to draw him. He will move a bit, but it might be fun to try.”
Molly looked at the monkey, and then she had an idea. “I know you don’t believe me about hypnotizing and morphing, Bas,” she said. “Want to see me hypnotize Cappuccino and then morph into him?”
Bas’s eyebrows lifted as though he’d just seen an apple talk. “Well.” He smiled uncertainly. “If you like…”
“Hmm.” Molly nodded. “I can tell you still don’t believe me, so come on.”
They went outside. There was Cappuccino the monkey, sitting in a tall bush eating a flower. Bas sat down on a wooden bench to watch while Molly walked slowly toward the wild creature.
“Hello,” she said, trying to catch his eye. The monkey stared into the distance to the left, as though looking at Molly was not a good idea. For a moment he glanced at her, but then he turned away again. “Come on,” Molly coaxed. “All you have to do is say hello.”
Monkeys are very inquisitive creatures. Cappuccino was no exception. And so he couldn’t keep up his shy act for long. He lifted his head and peered at Molly.
Molly already had her green eyes switched on. So when his small black pupils met hers, a current of hypnotism, like invisible glue, stuck the monkey to Molly. At once Cappuccino was under her power. He had lost his own will. And suddenly, as far as he could see, this girl was as wonderful as any monkey he’d ever known. He was ready to follow her to the ends of the forest. The girl clicked her fingers at him, and dropping the flower, he sprang from the branches to be by her side.
She leaned this way and that—Cappuccino copied her. She turned around and wiggled her bottom. Cappuccino imitated her strange dance as well as he could.
“Extraordinary!” the man in the flowery shirt was saying.
“And now,” the queen-of-the-monkeys girl was saying, “watch closely. I am going to morph into Cappuccino. Give me a complicated task, and when I am Cappuccino, he will do it.”
“Um, um, okay,” the man said. “When you are him, go inside, fetch the teapot and put a tea bag in it, and bring it back.”
“Got it,” the girl was saying. Then Cappuccino felt her staring at him again. And the next thing he knew, it was
