Free A Little Rhine Must Fall by Erin Evans Page A

ABC’s.”
    “Don’t give them any ideas,” Cecily groaned. “The chanting is bad enough.”
    “Is any of this stuff really necessary for the ‘magic’ to work?” I asked.
    One of the Fae shrugged. “Who knows? It works. Let’s get back to Earth and try to figure out our next step.”
    I was between Cecily and Jonathan again. No one else wanted to hold hands with me. I refused to chant stupid faux Latin phrases and instead closed my eyes, clicked my heels and chanted, “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.”
    When I opened my eyes we were back on the top of the pyramid. Drat. I was hoping that if I pictured home in my head while I chanted, that I would arrive there and not have to climb back down the stupid pyramid. Did I say I thought Egypt was cool? I was so over that.
    “Well?” It took me a moment to realize that Bastet was speaking aloud. Her whole body was quivering with curiosity. The WAND members were also waiting impatiently to hear our news.
    “You weren’t gone long enough to negotiate,” one said, a look of horror crossing his face. “Does that mean that they are going to attack?”
    Deerhurst shook his head. “They weren’t there.”
    “What!?”
    “The Synod will discuss the next step.”
    Bastet appeared at my feet. :You didn’t see any aliens?:
    “Nope,” I crouched down to be at a closer eye level with her. “So what does that mean for your little prophecy?”
    She closed her eyes. :It doesn’t make sense. You were supposed to go to the moon and fix everything:
    “Yeah, no pressure or anything. And when I say ‘anything,’ I mean like a plan, or a clue, or …” my sarcasm failed me.
    She looked so crestfallen that I had to reassure her. “Don’t worry. It looks like there’s going to be a second trip. They picked up some new coordinates and a new date.”
    Bastet stood up and ruffled her fur. :You’ll have to go with them again, then:
    I grimaced. “Anything you say, fluffy. Can we go home now?”
    A gust of wind about knocked me off my feet. Deerhurst was gone and a giant winged shape was blotting out the stars as it flapped away. “Hmph,” I complained. “I notice that he’s not climbing down the pyramid.”
    Cecily finished her conversation with Jonathan and joined us. “Are you ready to climb down?”
    “Why can’t we just use the Zipline here to go home?” I asked. I wasn’t whining. Really.
    “It’s not calibrated for that,” was the answer.
    “Oh. Duh. Of course,” I said sarcastically. “Why didn’t I know that?”
    Cecily gave me a blank look. “There is no reason for you to have known that.” I wasn’t sure if she was being dense on purpose to aggravate me, or if she had really missed my sarcasm.
    She met my glare without blinking so I gave up and sighed. “Fine. Are you ready, your royal highness?” Bastet answered by leaping up on my shoulders. So help me, if she jabbed me one more time with those claws, I would drop her down the side of the pyramid.
    I’m not going to talk about the climb down. It is not a pleasant memory. Climbing up was bad, but I could see where I was putting my hands and feet. Climbing down was like hanging over an abyss, feet dangling, and letting go with the hope that there is another block inches, or feet, below that will stop your bone-crushing fall. I might have said some things that were not appropriate for children’s ears. I usually try to watch my language and never say words that I wouldn’t want to hear my toddlers saying. In this instance, I was secure in the knowledge that they were half a world away, so I let it rip.
    When I finally reached the ground I got that weird feeling when you think there’s another step but you’re actually on the landing, and I fell flat on my face. Bastet hopped off hissing.
    :Make a little more noise, why don’t you. We think there are one or two guards who are not heading this way to see what all the commotion is about:
    I struggled to my feet,