Even and Odd Read online

  Even and Odd both gawked at him.

  “Wait,” Even said. “If you’ve always done it, why is it an emergency?”

  “It’s not,” Jeremy said. “But it smells delicious.”

  “That’s . . .” Even couldn’t think of what word she wanted to use. Disgusting? Amazing? “Irrelevant.” There was an actual emergency going on. Did he not get that? Pooping cupcakes didn’t have anything to do with a malfunctioning gateway.

  “Sorry.” Jeremy’s head drooped. “That wasn’t really appropriate, was it? It’s just . . . when I’m stressed, I’m not very good at talking. And I’m very stressed. I’m not supposed to be here.”

  “Then why are you here?” Even asked.

  “I came to this glorious world clandestinely.” He said it as if he’d just learned the word, and he swung his head fast to the right and left for emphasis, knocking a kitchen towel off its perch with his horn. “Oops. Sorry,” he said again. “I came to explore. And also to purchase soda and a new pack of cards for Farmcats, my favorite game.”

  “You play Farmcats?” Odd said at the same time as Even said, “You bought soda?”

  “I love soda, and love Farmcats,” Jeremy said. “Earlier, I bought six cans of Sprite and a brand-new Farmcats deck from the border store. Got them in my pack.” Shaking his mane, he showed off his pink sparkly satchel. It was specially shaped to fit over his horned head and drape across his neck—in essence, a unicorn backpack.

  “But why soda?” Even wondered if he knew that soda was the key to negating magic in magical artifacts. It wasn’t a secret, but her parents didn’t advertise the truth, either. Dad said it drew more business to the shop if everyone thought un-cursings were complex. Could the unicorn have a cursed amulet, necklace, sword, stone . . . or backpack?

  “I like the bubbles.”

  “And the cards?” Odd pressed. “How do you play a card game with hooves? And how have you even heard of it? I thought it was a mundane-world game.”

  “A cousin of mine who travels bought me my first pack of cards at a border store last year. I can flip the cards with my teeth.” He showed them his horselike teeth. “And I move them with my hoof. Why do you care what I bought? You aren’t my parents. It’s not your business.”

  “Technically, it is our business,” Odd said. “Our family owns the border store.”

  “Ah, then if it’s your store, you can help me!” Jeremy said. “Border stores are supposed to help any magical creature visiting the mundane world. Everyone knows that. It’s in your advertisements.”

  Even hadn’t seen any of their ads for herself, but she was sure he was right. Mom’s business trips were designed to spread exactly that message as widely as she could. I guess it makes sense that he’s here, even if it doesn’t make sense that he likes soda and poops cupcakes. “Do you actually have an emergency?”

  “Yes! Weren’t you paying attention? I have to get home! My parents don’t know I’m here, and they’re going to be so mad at me!”

  Even tilted her head back to stare at him. He was much larger than her skunk self, but he still didn’t seem full-grown. He fit in the laundry room, though it was a tight squeeze. He can’t be . . . But yes, he was. Unicorn or not, he was just a kid afraid of getting in trouble with his parents. “You really play Farmcats?”

  “It’s an excellent game.”

  “It is,” Odd agreed. She played it with her friends from school all the time. Even had never seen the appeal. And she certainly couldn’t imagine why a unicorn who lived in a world with magic all around him would be interested in a card game about cats, roosters, and malfunctioning farm equipment—so interested that he’d defy his parents and sneak across the border into another world.

  Even shook her head. “This is all so very wrong. Out of curiosity, how old are you?”

  “In unicorn years or human years?”

  “Unicorn, I guess.”

  “Nine,” he said.

  “And human years?”

  “Well, it doesn’t directly translate . . .”

  Even asked bluntly, “Are you a kid?”

  “I’m old enough! My parents trust me on errands to New City all the time!”

  He was just a kid. He sounded far too defensive about the question to be anything but. And he’s stuck on the wrong side of the border, she thought. Scared, and trying not to be.

  She wasn’t at all surprised that Odd patted his neck and said in the same tone she used for nervous puppies at the shelter, “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”

  “I don’t need taking care of.” He drew himself up taller, as if that would make him appear older. Instead it made him look like he was going to tip over. “I just . . . don’t know what to do.” The last bit was said in such a small voice that Even felt sorry for him.

  “How about we ask Dad if we can use the magic mirror, and you can call the Academy of Magic?” Even suggested. “Tell them you’re having trouble getting home, and ask them what to do.” The Academy was designed to solve all magical problems. Surely, they’d be able to help.

  “What? No! Terrible idea!” Jeremy said. “I can’t talk to them! They’re the Academy! They’re important! I’ll end up putting my hoof in my mouth and look like a silly kid who can’t be trusted to do anything! And anyway, they’d tell my parents immediately. Besides, I know I’d say it all wrong. I told you: I’m not good at talking to people. Especially grownups.”

  “You were just talking to our dad,” Odd said.

  “I was panicking at your dad,” Jeremy said. “There’s a difference. Isn’t there something else we could do to get me back across the border? Clandestinely?”

  Even could understand not wanting to get in trouble. She glanced at her furry paws and thought about her decision to hide her transformation problem from Dad.

  “Well, if the border is closed,” Even said, thinking out loud, “that would explain all of this: why I’m still a skunk, why our magic isn’t working, and why Jeremy can’t get home. So I guess the first thing is to find out if that’s what’s going on. Is there a problem with the gateway, or is there a problem with us?”

  Odd nodded. “Yeah, someone needs to check out the gateway.”

  “Great! Much better idea! I can do that. Is this the way out?” Jeremy trotted to the front door.

  “Wait, you can’t!” Odd yelped. “Someone will see you!”

  “Can’t wait! The longer I wait, the more likely my parents will find out. Or someone ‘helpful’ will tell them.” He bit the doorknob, twisted it to open, and pushed himself through. His hindquarters got stuck. Wiggling, he freed himself and popped out onto the front steps.

  Even and Odd exchanged glances and then hurried out. “You can’t just wander around outside,” Odd said behind him. “There are people who don’t know about the magical world. A lot of people. And we’re supposed to keep it that way.”

  “It’s better if you stay inside,” Even called. “Let a grownup handle it.”

  Crossing the lawn, he trampled the flower beds. “My grownups aren’t here! And I have to get back to them as soon as I can!”

  Even and Odd chased after him.

  From the driveway, Dad called, “Unicorn, where are you going? Odd, what’s—Even, is that you? Are you still a skunk?”

  Even chose not to answer that last question, since it was both obvious and obviously embarrassing. “He’s going to check the gateway!”

  “Excellent idea!” Dad said. “Someone should do that!” He started toward them, but he was stopped by the elf priestess. Stepping in front of him, she put his hand on his chest.

  “You will assist me,” the elf said, “before you go hurrying off without a plan. Let the pony run your errand while you attend to my needs.”

  Joining Frank, several other centaurs clustered around Dad. They clamored for his attention. “Our magic isn’t functioning—” “We tried to send a message—” “Our colleague was supposed to come through—”

  “One at a time,” Dad
pleaded with them.

  Even hesitated for a second. She’d expected Dad to jump in and take control of the situation with Jeremy and the gateway, but he couldn’t. Not with the elf and the centaurs demanding his help. They’re not interested in me, though, she thought. I could do it. “Odd and I can go, Dad!” She glanced at Odd to make sure she didn’t mind being volunteered. She didn’t seem to. “We can get the unicorn there and report back on what we find!”

  “Yes, please. Thank you, Even! Thank you, Odd!” He ran his hands through his rainbow hair. “Consider it your first quest! Make sure he isn’t seen. And be careful!”

  Even felt her fur fluff proudly around her. Of course she knew it wasn’t a real quest—it was just a trip to the bagel store—but she still liked the sound of it. And she liked that Dad was trusting them to help.

  “Cool. First quest,” Odd said, decidedly unexcited. “Yay. So what do we do, O Great Skunky Hero? How do we make sure no one sees him?”

  The unicorn hadn’t slowed. He was already clopping down the middle of the street.

  Even considered it briefly. “Get your bike. We can stay off the roads if we stick to the bike path. If anyone comes, we hide Jeremy behind a tree.” It wasn’t the perfect plan, but given that the unicorn was already halfway across the cul-de-sac, it had to do.

  Odd hurried to retrieve her bike from beside the house. When she came back, she lifted Even into the basket. “You can’t be seen either,” she said. “Duck down if anyone comes.” Odd began pedaling to catch up with Jeremy. “If the animal shelter finds out I’m transporting a wild animal—that’s you right now, sorry—in a bike basket, they’re not going to trust me around their rescues. I can’t even imagine what they’d say about the unicorn. Irresponsible horse care, at best. They’ll think I glued a horn on his head. It’s not like I can tell them I now have magical-animal sidekicks.”

  “We won’t let anyone from this world see us,” Even promised. “And I am not your sidekick—though, yes, I get that I look like one.” She wished there were a less embarrassing way to travel than hidden in a bike basket. If she had her magic, she could have flown there. Or transformed into a bird. Or changed back into a human and ridden her own bike. She squeezed herself into the basket, curling up with her tail around her.

  Peering out through the weave of the basket, Even checked the street. Their house was on a heavily wooded cul-de-sac with two other houses, both owned by emigrants from Firoth, so it was relatively safe to be out in the open here. Once on the path, though, they’d have to keep an eye out for joggers or anyone walking their dog, baby, or whatever.

  “Wait for us!” Odd called to the unicorn.

  Miraculously, he waited.

  The closest house belonged to a centaur, Mr. Nessus, who was a member of Frank’s research group. Outside his house, he used an illusion spell to make his horse half look like really muscular human legs, but if he couldn’t maintain the glamour, he’d be stuck inside. Not a pleasant fate for someone who was half horse.

  Strangely, the second house was dark. The fairies who lived there never shut off the lights—bright bulbs hid their magic-fueled glow. But she didn’t see any sign of either artificial or fairy light, even though she knew the fairies had to be there—they never left. They were, alarmingly, lightless.

  She felt a shiver run through her fur. No one’s magic was working.

  Catching up with Jeremy, Odd called, “This way!” She led him toward the bike path.

  In the basket, Even kept worrying. She’d never heard of this happening before. How serious was this? How concerned should she be? How long was it going to last? How long was she going to be stuck as a skunk? How was Mom going to get home?

  Peering out again, Even glimpsed a flash of pink up ahead. She poked her nose over the lip of the basket to see better: it was a runner in pink leggings. “Jogger coming,” she whisper-shouted. “Jeremy, hide!”

  Slowing, Odd shooed Jeremy into the bushes. He crashed into the shrubbery with less grace than a rhinoceros as the jogger came into view: a young woman with a ponytail and earbuds. She nodded, barely glancing at them, as she ran by.

  They waited a few seconds.

  “You can come out,” Odd called softly to Jeremy.

  He trotted out of the bushes and onto the path. Shaking his head, he tossed off stray leaves and branches that had stuck to his mane. An oak leaf was impaled on his horn. “That was close! Maybe we should go back.”

  “We already told Dad we’d check the gateway,” Even said.

  Odd plucked the leaf off his horn. “You just need to hide whenever we see someone.”

  “This is more stressful than I thought it would be.”

  “It was your idea,” Odd told him.

  “Maybe it was a bad one. You were right—someone could see me. Someone who doesn’t know about Firoth. Or unicorns. Someone who—”

  “Just stick with us,” Even said. “It’s not far.”

  They continued on, and Jeremy had to plunge into the bushes three more times: for a man jogging with a stroller of twin babies, for a high schooler on a skateboard, and for three elderly women power walking down the bike path. Even squished herself into the basket as deeply as she could each time, while the unicorn concealed himself in the thick weeds and underbrush.

  Miraculously, they made it to the end of the bike path without incident.

  Odd quit pedaling. Pressing her eyes close to the gaps in the basket weave, Even looked out at the intersection. Cars passed by steadily. Across the street, beyond the traffic light, was a strip mall with a CVS, a bank, and Fratelli’s Express Bagel. Behind the bagel store, hidden from view, was the gateway.

  “How are we going to cross?” Odd asked. Even could hear the nervousness in Odd’s voice and knew her sister was imagining a hundred terrible scenarios.

  Even wanted to tell her not to worry, it would all be okay, but she thought she might lack credibility, given that she was a skunk.

  “Ooh, what is that?” Jeremy poked his head past Odd’s.

  She shooed him back. “A traffic light.”

  “It looks like a 2019 Ford Mustang GT. Cherry red with a V8 engine. Vroom-vroom!”

  “Okay, sure, but—”

  Even interrupted. “Jeremy has to stay here and keep himself hidden.”

  “What? But you just said to stick with you! You can’t leave me here by myself! I’m supposed to go with you to the gateway—and home!”

  “Sorry, buddy,” Odd said. “She’s right. You’ll be seen.”

  He snorted at her. “Not if I use my invisibility cloak.”

  Rising up onto her hind legs to glare at him better, Even considered spraying him for being this unbelievably irritating when, as a unicorn, he was supposed to be wise and magical and delightful. “You had an invisibility cloak this whole time?”

  “Um, yes?” he said, as if he wasn’t sure why she sounded upset. “In my pack. I used it to cushion the soda.”

  Even wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed. She decided on both.

  6

  Even peered across the street at the bagel store, while Jeremy used his teeth to yank his cloak out of his satchel. So far no one had come in or out of the store, which was unusual. It should have had a line out the door, until they ran out of bagels around noon. It was the most popular bagel spot in Stony Haven. There were two others, but only Fratelli’s had the French toast bagels with powdered sugar.

  It was also the only one owned by a wizard, which Even did not think was a coincidence. French toast bagels tasted magically delicious.

  A car pulled into the parking lot, and Even watched a woman get out, try the door, fail to open it, and then return to her car and drive away. “I think Fratelli’s is closed,” Even said.

  “Do you think it’s because of the gateway?” Odd asked.

  “He uses magic to bake his bagels. So, yeah, if he doesn’t have anything to sell, it makes sense he’d close the store.” He must be really upset, she thought. It was clea
r how much he loved his store. He always wore a huge smile while he chatted with the customers and baked his magically delicious bagels. Whenever Even had gone in with Mom, he’d greeted them with the jolliest smile. Like a carb-and-cream-cheese-bearing Santa Claus.

  She glanced back to see if Jeremy was ready. He poked his head under the cloak, tossed it over his body, and vanished beneath it. “Ta-da!” he said. “How do I look? Or not look?”

  “Perfect,” Even said.

  “Not quite.” Odd pointed down.

  Peeking over the edge of the basket, Even looked where her sister was pointing: four clearly visible hooves. The invisibility cloak only covered the unicorn’s body. It didn’t reach all the way down to his hooves. “It doesn’t fit you.”

  Jeremy’s voice floated from what looked like empty air. “Well, it’s not technically mine, but I didn’t steal it!”

  “I know you can’t lie,” Odd said. “Otherwise, that sounded super suspicious.”

  “Stealing implies you have no intention of giving it back,” Jeremy said. “I borrowed without permission.” He sounded very pleased with himself for thinking of this distinction.

  “Stick close to the bike,” Even said. “People will think it just has strange wheels. No one’s going to see his hooves and think, ‘Oh, that must be a mostly invisible unicorn.’” Or at least she hoped that was true. In her experience, people were very eager to explain away the unexplainable. But she knew Odd worried about people’s reactions a lot.

  “They’ll think I’m doing something strange again.” Odd sighed. “You’d think no magic would mean I’d get to have a normal day. But of course not.” She got back on the bike.

  “At least you aren’t a skunk.”

  “One thing I’m grateful for. I need another four.”

  “You’re helping a young unicorn,” Even said.

  Odd perked up. “You’re right. That’s nearly as good as helping kittens.”

  Even hid herself in the basket again. Peering through the weave, she watched as they emerged from the bike path and waited for the traffic light. When it changed, Odd pedaled across, while Jeremy kept pace beside them. They passed the CVS and the bank and then the bagel store.