“Come With Me”
Tomorrow, I infect him.- unnatural and unusual
- I suggested putting on 15 pounds
- interspersed with the flashing colors of magnificent silks and furs and feathers
- “Don’t juice my fruit.”
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“Come with me,” I told Fleur. She stood and put the blue panda head on.
We ascended the winding stairs up from the prison’s basement, the monk contingent trailing along with the brood. I muttered my dark intentions toward my brother on the way up. “Today, I catch him. Tomorrow, I infect him.” Jim had a well-documented susceptibility to the wet-willy virus, an unnatural and unusual delusion that rendered him willing to obey any command if told it would cure him. He never did forgive me for the time I suggested putting on 15 pounds.
Of course, the zeppelin was gone. Jim had stolen it.
“Is there any other way off this island?” I asked. The blue panda nodded.
“Well?” I prompted.
Fleur’s muffled voice said, “Now is the annual migration of the megaswans, whose passage through the water creates mists and ripples interspersed with the flashing colors of magnificent silks and furs and feathers.”
“Swans have fur?”
“Megaswans. But, not really. It’s faux.”
“Okay. How do we ride them?”
The panda shook its head. “Oh, we can’t.”
“Don’t juice my fruit.” I doubted she got the reference, it being Academy slang. But it seemed she understood the intent.
“When the megaswans migrate, the fishing fleet sends its catamarans into the shoals around the prison. We can hitch a ride if we can get down to the shore.”
bonus points for using them in order