Ella and the Panther's Quest

by Lisa Anne Nisula

  After three more cautious steps, I walked into a bush. Prickly branches grabbed onto my sleeves and skirt, digging in as I struggled against them. I took a deep breath and forced myself stop fighting and think. The bush was just a plant, not the knight or the troll. It meant me no harm. I tried to comfort myself by saying, “I’ve left the path, that’s all.” It didn’t help since I had no way of knowing if I had drifted off to the side, or if the path had curved, or if I was turned around and would be walking the wrong way. I took a couple more breaths, then started extracting myself from the needles and branches that were clinging to my cloak and dress. I heard the cloth of my skirt rip, but I was out of the bush and in one piece. I tapped my foot on the ground, looking for the path.

  Eventually I did step on a sharp edge of a broken stone. I felt around and found another bit of stone, this one flatter, not too far away, and assumed I’d found the path, but I still had no idea which way to go. I thought I had come out of the bush facing the way Nathaniel had gone, but since I still couldn’t see anything, there was no way to tell. I considered turning to see if I could see any light from the entrance to the trees, but if I did that, how would I know how far to turn away?

  “If only there was a sound,” I thought, “some sign of life.”

  Of course if there was a sound, it would matter who was making it. Crawa had met us in a forest once; there was no guarantee he wouldn’t do it again. I wouldn’t know if I was following Nathaniel, Crawa’s minions, or some forest creature living deep in the trees that had nothing to do with us at all.

  And with nothing to follow, even if I went the right way by chance, what if I came to a fork or even a turn? Would I know where to go?

  “I can’t stand here forever,” I told myself. I took a careful step forward on the uneven stones, then another. On the third step I missed my footing and lost my balance. Without a spot to focus on, it was hard to stay upright. I felt my right foot twist to the side. Pain shot through my ankle. I bit my lip and concentrated on my foot. I rested my weight on my left leg. After a few breaths, I had my balance back.

  I gave my right foot a little wiggle. It did move, so I tried pointing and flexing it. That hurt, but the excruciating pain seemed to be over. Gingerly I put my weight on it. Pain again, but still bearable; I could still walk on it if I was careful. Any sound of Nathaniel walking was long gone.

  Three careful steps later, I was tempted to talk to myself, to break the silence that pressed in around me. Only the fear of what else might hear me in the shadows and follow my voice stopped me.

  I shouldn’t have thought of that. Now my mind kept seeing eyes in the trees or movement where I knew I could see only darkness. Standing still would just give them a clear shot at me, and even though I knew they weren’t there to begin with, that thought was enough to make my feet keep moving, one after the other.

  And then I heard it, the brush of a leaf, the crack of a twig. Something was coming. I would have turned and run away, only I couldn’t tell in the darkness which way was away. Even though I couldn’t tell which direction it was coming from, I could tell the sound was getting closer. I strained to hear, trying to detect the sound of rattling metal that had preceded Crawa as a knight. I remembered Nathaniel once telling me he would rather face the unknown danger head on than let it sneak up on us. Here there was no way to face it, no way to see it coming. And it was closer. Then it stopped.

  “Ella, rest your hand on my back and I’ll guide you.”

  I felt the top of Nathaniel’s head press against my hand. I was so relieved to know the sound had been him, I almost lost my still precarious balance. Nathaniel moved so his side was against me, giving me something to lean on while I got my feet back under me. I could feel his soft fur brushing against my leg through the tear in my skirt. Once I was steady, I felt for Nathaniel’s back as he’d told me to. My hand brushed his ear, then followed along the top of his head, down his neck, and was finally buried in the fur between his shoulders.

  When he felt my hand in place, Nathaniel moved forward slowly. I walked beside him. I tried to hide the pain in my ankle, but every so often I had to rest my weight on Nathaniel. Nathaniel gave no sign that he’d noticed, just kept the same slow, steady pace beside me. The only sound was the soft crunch of our feet on the path, the occasional clatter of Feste on the stones, and Nathaniel’s warning of bends in the road or roots in the path.

  With Nathaniel beside me, time returned to its normal pace, and the rest of the trip through the forest seemed to take a perfectly reasonable half hour. As the trees thinned, which I had learned to recognize as an end, the light began to filter through. At first I thought it was moonlight, but I quickly realized it was too blue to be moonlight, too blue to be anything natural. It was bright enough that I did not need Nathaniel to guide me. I was all set to let go of him and tuck my hand into the pocket of my cloak, but I didn’t. There was something comforting about Nathaniel’s presence. Just a few more yards, I told myself, in case the light disappeared, and hoped that Nathaniel didn’t notice.

  The light did not disappear, and Nathaniel did not seem to find my hand on his shoulder a burden. The path opened up into a courtyard. The forest curved around the outside, again very regular and most likely formed by magic, with several feet of crushed gravel covering the open space between the trees and a high stone wall. I felt Nathaniel’s back tense. Feste ran forward. I leaned back and could see the tops of the castle towers, just as I had seen them from the window.

  “We’re there?” I whispered.

  “We are.” Nathaniel stepped forward.

  Chapter 26

  There was an iron gate in the stone wall. Nathaniel walked to it, me still beside him, my hand still on his back.

  The wall was solid and the door fit tightly into it; the only opening was the large keyhole. The door had no decoration. The rusted hinges, the rivets holding it together, and the jagged bits of metal along the top made the door look like it had been ripped out of a large piece of metal. I did not want to consider who could have torn metal that thick.

  Nathaniel touched the gate. “It’s locked.” He stepped back and regarded the stone walls. “If your good fairy theory is right, Sagessa must have left us a way to unlock it.” Nathaniel stared at the frame of the gate.

  My eyes fell to the spot where a doormat would be, if there’d been one.

  “Did you see something?”

  I felt foolish. “No, just, where I come from, people sometimes hide keys under the welcome mat.”

  “Oh. Here we hang them by the gate. It seems it won’t be that easy. We’ll just have to look harder.” Nathaniel started walking.

  I was surprised by Nathaniel’s optimism. Feste had one corner cocked to the side, like he was watching Nathaniel too. “It must be being so close to the castle. He knows he’s almost done it,” I murmured.

  Feste turned toward me and I had the definite feeling he thought I’d missed something, but I had no idea what he wanted me to see.

  Nathaniel had already started walking around the area, scanning the trees and the stone walls. My foot still felt tender, but I was able to walk on it and even managed to catch up with Nathaniel.

  “I’m not sure what we’re looking for,” Nathaniel murmured. “When I was here, the gate was wrought iron. I’m assuming the key to this will be crudely made from black metal, like this new gate. Not the easiest thing to spot in the dark.” He paused and looked at me for a moment. “How is the light here for you?”

  So he had known there was enough light for me to see. “Not bad. I can help search.”

  “Good. I’ll keep looking in the trees; you can try the ground around here. Call me if you see anything. Don’t go too far; I don’t want to get separated. We can both move to a new area if it’s not here.”

  I watched Nathaniel move farther down the path, then turned to the area around me. The grass had been left to grow as it wanted, and it was now deep enough to cover my feet in places, brown and bare in others,
especially under the trees. I scanned the ground, pushing aside the leaves and the branches with my feet. Even though I could see in the dim light, I still thought I had a better chance of feeling the key than seeing it.

  I found many rocks scattered around, some bits of metal that could have come from shattered armor, a piece of ribbon, an old shoe, but nothing that could have been a key. Then I heard Nathaniel laugh. “Ella, I think I’ve found something!”

  I dropped a broken half of an arrow and ran over to him. It was immediately obvious he had found something. There was a tree, by itself, in a clearing, a little ways away from the woods, and it was on fire. Not burning — the wood was perfectly sound — but flames were surrounding it and licking up the trunk.

  “That is definitely something.”

  “It’s Crawa’s work.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “All of the heat from the forest has to go somewhere. It’s possible to channel it over a large enough area so it seems to disappear, but that would take a lot of power. It’s much easier to focus it and send it somewhere closer, preferably related.”

  “Like a tree from the same forest.”

  “Exactly. After fighting Sagessa, Crawa wouldn’t have enough strength to do anything too elaborate. Unfortunately neither would she, so if she’s left the key, she would probably try to use something already here. Something we would notice.”

  “And this is definitely noticeable.”

  “Exactly. Come on.” Nathaniel started walking around the tree. I followed, squinting against the flames as I looked around the roots, but I wasn’t surprised that it was Nathaniel who saw it first.

  “Up there, on the biggest limb.”

  I followed Nathaniel’s gaze. On a thick branch, balanced on its end, was a large iron key. The jagged shape of the black metal echoed that of the gate.

  Nathaniel paced back and forth in front of the tree, his eyes glued to the key. “There has to be a way up.” He made a small sound, almost a growl, and ran at the tree.

  I kept my eyes on the flickering flames, watching the shadows they made as they flared up then settled down again. Surely Nathaniel knew what needed to be done. But I didn’t see how he could manage to clear the flames. Unless he didn’t intend to clear them completely, and the running start was just to get him far enough up the tree so he could survive to climb up. I kept telling myself he knew what he was doing. And then I began to make out shapes in the flickering firelight, behind the smoke. The tree was covered in thorns, some as thick as my wrist, all with stiletto sharp points, all pointing out at anyone foolish enough to touch the tree. “Nathaniel! Thorns!”

  Nathaniel was already running at the tree, was tensed to jump, but he stopped when he heard me call out, tripping sideways to avoid the edge of the fire, and sat down hard. He stared at the fire. I could tell the moment Nathaniel made out the shape of the thorn bushes behind the flames.

  I saw his head slump, so I didn’t say anything. He batted at the grass in front of him for a few moments. Then he held still, staring at the patch of ground.

  Nathaniel looked up again, studying the key. “Ella, can you see the key clearly?”

  I looked at the key. “Yes.”

  “Are you still sentimental about that rock?”

  “What?” Then I remembered the troll’s gift. “I told you I’m not … “

  Nathaniel ignored my protest. “Do you think you could hit the key and knock it down?”

  It was a serious question, and I knew it deserved a truthful answer. I took out the rock and weighed it in my hand. It fit well, not too heavy; a very good throwing rock, at least it seemed to be. I almost wished I’d been the sort of person who threw rocks regularly. “I think I could.”

  Nathaniel nodded. “Then all we’re left with is getting the key out of the thorns. I don’t mind a few burns.”

  I couldn’t help but look at the patch of singed fur and reddened skin that still hadn’t healed on his back.

  “But those are dragontooth thorns. They’re extremely sharp and extremely poisonous. They could kill in seconds, and my death will not break the curse.” Nathaniel went back to pacing around the tree. After the first lap, he turned to me and said, “Thank you for noticing them. It was clever of you.” He turned away and kept walking before I could answer.

  If he wouldn’t let me say anything, I’d have to do something useful. I sat on the ground and dug in my bag. “How about this?” I held up the gauntlet I’d taken from the knight.

  Nathaniel examined the gauntlet, rubbing his nose against it, batting it with his paw, then running his tongue along the surface, letting the pink tip curl around the edges and poke into the gaps between the joints. “It seems thick enough and I don’t think the thorns can find a way in.” Nathaniel looked up. “Are you willing to try it?”

  Nathaniel’s face was grim; he looked like a general asking a spy to take a risk. I knew I could say no and he’d accept it and not think less of me. For an instant I wondered how dangerous this task was to make him so serious, but I knew my answer. “Of course I will.”

  “Very good. Try to knock the key hard enough to send it over and away from the flames. If you can, then we won’t have to worry about retrieving it before it melts enough to be distorted. If you can’t clear the thorns, we’ll use the gauntlet to retrieve it and hope it lands somewhere near the edges so you won’t have to reach too far into those thorns.”

  I walked around the tree until I had a clear view of the key. I held the rock loosely in my hand and stared at the key, trying to remember everything I’d ever heard about aiming. It wasn’t much.

  I felt Nathaniel’s cold nose against my fingers. I looked down and saw Nathaniel sniffing the rock.

  “I think I was wrong about this. It’s a very strange rock; it’s the wrong weight for its size.”

  I wondered if Nathaniel was trying to boost my confidence by making me think the rock had some kind of magical properties, but I didn’t think he would have admitted being wrong if he wasn’t. It did make me feel better, even if it was a lie.

  I kept my eye on the key and threw the rock.

  The rock hit the key. I held my breath as I watched the key totter back and forth, waiting for it to decide which way to fall; then it fell forward into the bushes and away from the trunk.

  “Excellent,” Nathaniel murmured. “Now be very careful of the thorns. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said the smallest scratch could be fatal.”

  I took the gauntlet and went to the edge of the thorns. Nathaniel was hovering and obviously trying not to, which told me more than his words had about the danger from the thorns. I slipped on the gauntlet. It was large and it reached all the way to my elbow. The metal was cold, from being out in the cursed forest I was sure, even though it felt like there was some inner coldness, some inner curse on the metal itself. I was reminded briefly of where it came from, but didn’t let myself dwell on it. I flexed my fingers. The gauntlet was built for longer, thicker fingers than mine. I couldn’t just close my hand. I had to concentrate on bending each finger individually. It took a bit of strength to do it, but I managed, and managed to unbend them again.

  The key had hooked itself over a thick thorn, its end hanging in a licking tongue of flame. I reached through and wrapped my hand around the key. I could feel the heat of the flames through the metal as they twined around my hand, looking for something to singe, but I kept my mind on forcing each finger to close around the small piece of iron without knocking it down into the fire.

  By the time I thought I had a secure grip on the key, it was glowing from the heat of the flames. I held it as gently as I could while keeping a firm grip, hoping I wouldn’t distort the soft metal as I carefully lifted it up and off the thorn and pulled it toward me. As soon as my arm had cleared the thorns, I felt the heat from the key burning through the hot metal of the gauntlet.

  Nathaniel stuck his head into my bag, pulled out the cloak and dragged it across the grass. “Drop it here.”
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br />   I slid my hand out of the gauntlet and let the hot metal fall on the cloak.

  “Won’t the cloth burn?”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “I remember this cloak; it has a charm woven into it, although not an entirely successful one. It won’t burn, but it won’t offer much protection from the heat either. How’s your hand?”

  I flexed my fingers. “Fine.”

  “Did you burn yourself?”

  I examined my hand. It was a bit red, and it felt hot, but it didn’t feel burned and the redness seemed to be a blush from the heat, not damaged skin. There were no scratches, but Nathaniel hadn’t asked about that. “No, it wasn’t in the fire long enough.” I realized he hadn’t been exaggerating about the thorns. Nathaniel hadn’t asked about them because, if I’d been scratched, I’d probably have dropped dead by now.

  Nathaniel leaned over my hand, close enough that I could feel the small streams of warm air as he exhaled. I held my hand out and let him look as much as he wanted, until he was convinced I was all right. When he stepped back, I asked, “What should we do with the gauntlet?”

  “Throw it back into the fire. We won’t need it, and then we won’t have to worry about anything else catching fire.”

  I used the cloak to protect my hands as I untangled the still warm key from the burning gauntlet, then held the key through the cloak with my left hand and used my right hand, protected by several extra layers of the cloak, to throw the gauntlet into the flames.

  Using the cloak, I was able to carry the key to the gate and unlock it. We left the key in the gate and I draped the cloak over my shoulders, hoping it would help me blend into the shadows of the courtyard as we crossed to the main doors.

  Chapter 27

  Nathaniel’s castle was a proper defensive castle, with thick stone walls, round towers at regular intervals with slits for archers to shoot at attackers, and a balcony above the entry where I could easily imagine guards watching anyone who had gotten this far. Buried in the middle of the towers was the entrance to the keep. The main doors were plain, thick wood, reinforced with iron. They had been left open, letting us in without any trouble. A nice change, I thought. Nathaniel bounded up the steps and paused at the threshold, just looking. Taking it all in I wondered, or afraid of what he’d find inside? I picked up Feste and climbed the six stone steps leading inside. As Nathaniel crossed the threshold, I put Feste down and hung back, letting them enter their home for the first time in I didn’t know how long, in privacy.