He looked at Abby, then past her to the open link.
He blinked. He frowned. He turned his head.
“Hey, Matt!” he yelled. “Get in here!”
“No!” said Abby, but it was too late. There was a pounding of footsteps and Matt appeared, squeezing his way in next to Mark. He blinked and frowned just like his brother, then settled on an identical openmouthed stare. They looked adorable.
Abby went on the offensive.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” she demanded, unhooking Samson from her shirt. “How dare you come in my fort without permission?”
“You yelled,” said Mark. “But what’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” said Abby firmly. I didn’t move a muscle. Maybe Abby could talk her way out of this. Maybe they would forget what they’d seen.
Matt, peering over Abby’s shoulder, crinkled his eyebrows at me through the link. “Really?” he said. “’Cause this sure looks like something to me.” He tilted his head at me and waved. I couldn’t help it—I waved back.
“Ugh!” Abby heaved a dramatic sigh. “Come on, then,” she said, and she backed up into Fort McForterson to sit beside me. Matt and Mark squeezed through Fort Comfy and piled together in the link, Mark on his stomach with Matt leaning on his shoulders. They were so close I could have reached out and ruffled Matt’s hair. It was hard not to.
“So why are you two checking on me?” asked Abby, glaring at her brothers. “Where’s Dad?”
“First tell us what’s going on here,” said Mark.
Abby gave an actual tsk-sigh. “You guys, it’s fine. It’s just this thing. Magic pillow forts or whatever. Get over it. So, where’s Dad?”
Matt grinned at her. “Thanks. Dad’s out on a date with Tamal. He won’t be home until late. He left us in charge since you’re grounded.”
“And I heard you yelling,” said Mark. “So I came to make sure you were okay.”
“So here we are,” said Matt.
“Yes,” said Abby. “And it’s nice to see you, but Maggie and I are in a hurry. We’re on a rescue mission, and unless one of you knows how to heal broken bones—”
“Broken bones?” said Mark.
“Who’s got broken bones?” asked Matt.
“No one you know.”
“Oh, okay,” said Mark. “So, what’s our plan?”
“Are you asking if you can help?” said Abby. “Because you’re not exactly in charge here.”
“They can help,” I said.
“They can?” said Abby.
“Yeah.” With the news that Alex wasn’t around, an idea was coming together in my mind. There really was only one obvious solution. It was time to be decisive.
“Okay, everyone!” I said, clapping my hands. “Here’s what we’re doing. Matt and Mark—”
But my explanation got cut off as a pillow popped out of the wall beside me and a young kid I’d never seen in my life appeared, silhouetted in the light and bustle of the NAFAFA Hub.
“Maggie Hetzger?” said the kid, reading from a clipboard.
“Pheasant!” I snapped, raising my hand. Abby snorted.
The kid looked up. “Ben from the Council would like to know if this is actually a true, legitimate emergency.”
I could have screamed in frustration. I might have.
“YES,” I said, snatching up the loose pillow and strangling it. “What is wrong with you people? This is a real, actual, life-and-death emergency, and we are dealing with it whether anyone on that darn Council likes it or not!” The boy looked shocked. He almost dropped his clipboard.
“And you tell Ben from me,” I barreled on, closing the distance between us, “that if he shuts down one single link in this network before Uncle Joe is safe, I will catch the next bus to the Midwest and search under every pillow on every sofa until I find him. And he will not be pleased to see me!” And I slammed the link shut in his face.
“Ugh,” I said, turning back to the others.
Abby was goggling at me. Mark whistled. Even Samson looked impressed.
“Guess we know who’s in charge around here, then,” said Matt, grinning.
I felt my face turn scarlet. “So, like I was saying,” I said. “Matt and Mark, you two go up to Alaska and stand guard over Uncle Joe. We’ll tell you how to get there.”
“Got it,” said Matt.
“When you say Alaska . . . ,” began Mark, but Abby put her hand in the air.
“What about me?” she asked.
I looked at her. Things had been really weird between us, but this next stage was going to be tricky, and I needed her brains and bravery and friendship more than ever.
“We,” I said, “are going through to Kelly’s fort, Abs. We’re going to get my mom.”
Twenty
Kelly had made some changes to her fort since the makeover. The little table had been moved to the center, and it was covered with crayons, pens, and half-finished drawings instead of our random knickknacks, which were dumped in the old basket. Abby pointed to one of the drawings-in-progress and grinned: a group of cats in a pillow fort on the moon, roasting marshmallows over a candle.
We waited, listening for movement on the other side of the blanket, but everything seemed quiet. Abby crept out of the fort.
“Hi!” said a cheery voice. “Are you my magical pen pal?”
I jumped, nearly knocking over the table, and peeked out. Kelly was sitting up in bed. It looked like she’d been waiting for us.
Abby kept her cool.
“Yes to the second part, no to the first,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’m not magical, although the forts might be; no one’s really sure. My name’s Abby.”
“I’m Kelly.” They shook hands. “I finished your picture.” Kelly held up a drawing of a black-and-white cat floating happily through space. It looked almost exactly nothing like Samson.
Abby smiled. “Aww! I love it, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Are the other people here?”
“Yup,” said Abby, waving for me to come out. “This is Maggie. She’s the other people.”
“Hello,” I said.
“Hi!” Kelly didn’t seem even the tiniest bit nervous to be meeting two
