feet. They were like Ozzie and Harriet on a Harley.
“What’s going on?” I asked the fairy.
Dimitri had headed out back to double check our bikes. I could hear the witches in the back store room, loading up everything they’d unpacked yesterday afternoon.
“Do you mind?” Sid scowled at me as if I’d eaten the last Oreo. “I’m getting us out of here.”
“Good.” I scooted in to get a better look.
Highways and smaller connected roads zigzagged across Sid’s map. They ran between major cities and smaller towns and seemed perfectly normal - until you added a network of winding green fairy trails, with names like Hobblers Knob and Limey Crook’s Shaft.
Maybe I hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night. “Nether Wallup Way? You’ve got to be kidding.” I pointed at a particularly nonsensical route that wound in corkscrews between Trenton and Philadelphia.
“Cut it, Lady Gaga.”
He didn’t have to bring my hair into it.
Sid glared at me. “Nether Wallup Way happens to be the fastest path out of here.”
“Path,” I repeated, taking a second look at the map while at the same time resisting the urge to touch my head. “Oh no. We’re not taking any paths. We need the interstate.” I had to get to my dad as quickly as possible.
His bushy brows shot up, deepening the cascade of wrinkles etched into his forehead. “Last I heard you weren’t in charge of trip planning, demon slayer.”
I snorted. “I am if you’re going to lead us down Willy Wallup Way.”
“Nether Wallup Way,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Whatever.” It was ridiculous no matter how you said it.
Ant Eater cracked an egg into a glass of tomato juice and handed it to Sid.
“Your boyfriend is trying to lead us down the primrose path,” I protested. “And what’s with the eggs?”
“Protein,” she answered. “And what’s the deal? You think Sid doesn’t know his stuff?”
The short, stocky fairy gulped at his power drink and slapped Ant Eater on the rear. She tittered and wiggled her hips at him, which I really didn’t need to see.
I ran a finger down the corkscrews and round-abouts that made up the fairy path in question. “What I’m saying,” I said, assuming my teacher voice, “is Nether Wallup Way would mosey us about two hundred miles south instead of west,” and mostly in circles.
If we were going to get to Pasadena any time soon, we needed to take the most direct route, which meant interstate highways. “Look,” I said, bending over the map, “we take I-80 all the way to Sacramento. Hang a left at either 99 or 5, preferably 5…”
Sid shook his head, sprinkling silver glitter onto the map like a bad case of dandruff. “That’s all fine and dandy, but the fairy paths run through Philly and then down south.” He pointed to a series of winding trails through Virginia and Kentucky. “We’ll take a short detour down Filligan’s Rut into Nashville, and then head west from there,” he said, as if it were obvious to anyone with a touch of otherworldly intelligence.
Not happening.
“The interstate works just fine.” I was all for magical hoo-ha. It had saved my rear plenty of times, but, “we have banshees on our tail and time issues to consider.” Magic for the sake of magic was just plain foolish.
He looked at me as if I had a screw loose. “About those banshees, I had to clean up the mess you left outside. Poison skin, poison fangs, poison spit. I’ll bet those suckers even have poison poop and you just want to rocket down the highway and see if they can catch up to us. Not me. I’m going with fairy magic. If you want to be stupid about it, then you can go by yourself.”
“Oh sure, let’s break up the group,” I said, realizing just how serious he was. What was with this guy? We needed speed as well as safety in numbers. “We’re in a race to save my dad’s soul. We don’t have time