What if Narnia's wardrobe was in a psych unit?
Agatha Stone is not the chosen one--she's the last one. She's thirteen, mentally ill, and whiny, but she's all that's left.
She's not what they were expecting, but she's all they have. Maybe with the...
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The exact moment we leave Manahata the trees turn dense and dark. No more fiery magentas and dazzling teals; these trees are deep hues of green, blue and burgundy. The towering pines don't sing, either; they resonate a soft hum, like an electrical appliance you only hear once it's off. Everything is steadily growing darker and quieter with every step of this excruciatingly long hike.
"Shouldn't we have hit the river by now?" I ask after we've walked for several hours.
"What river?" Jonah asks.
"The Hudson River," I answer with an edge to my voice. My legs hurt and I'm winded. Jonah has been guiding us in circles. We should've seen water by now.
"Agatha, you're not on Earth," he explains. "You'll see similarities between our worlds but they're not the same."
His tone annoys me further. I'm not a child and I'm not stupid. I'm tired and my feet hurt. "Why are we walking? Don't you guys have cars or trains, or even a carriage?
"Yes," Jonah answers.
"Then why don't we have one!" I stop moving. We've been walking for hours with no end in sight. "New Yorkers don't hike, especially in nature. This is crazy. We should get a car."
"We'll go a little further, then we'll stop to eat and you can rest," Jonah says patiently.
I've never yelled at anyone in my life, but his demeanor is making my blood boil. "Why do you always ignore my questions? Or answer my questions with questions? Or tell me to stop asking questions? You asked me to come here. Why don't we have a car!"
"Well, that was impressive," Dathid snorts.
I glare at him. I hate him and I want a car.
Jonah points Dathid to a small clearing in the trees. "Let's stop over there." Then he turns to me. "Sit, and eat, and rest, and then I'll answer your questions. But first, call Lenox," he orders over his shoulder when he leaves to join Dathid.
Lenox is staying close by, but he prefers flying. I search the treetops for him, but he's nowhere in sight. I don't have a clue how to get an animal to come to me. I look to Jonah for help, but he's whispering with Dathid. When Auntie would call the cats, she'd say "Here, Kitty-Kitties" really loud. I open my mouth to try it, but the words get stuck in my throat.
I don't want to call that big animal to me, but I don't want to disobey Jonah either. I always do what I'm told, but I can't make the words come out. I clasp my hands together and feel the sweat on my palms. Just call him like a cat. Just make the attempt. Just do something! my brain screams. Desperate to make any kind of noise, I put my fingers in my mouth and give a loud whistle; both Jonah and Dathid turn to me in surprise.
I'm proud of myself for shocking them. I shrug with a smirk. "All New Yorkers can do that."
My victory is short because Lenox actually comes when called. I need to be brave, keep breathing, and keep my eyes open. But the beating of his wings is so loud my heartbeat matches its rhythm. I lose the battle to keep my eyes open. This animal just needs to stay away from me. When everything is quiet, and just as I'm about to open my eyes, something wet and slimy slides up my cheek.
