“How long will it take to reach our land?” Little Fur asked Danger after a time.
“Through most of the night, if there are no storms,” he said calmly. After a pause, he said, with some of his old curiosity, “Tell me what happened at the bottom of the maelstrom.”
Little Fur told him only that she had found the earth spirit and would be able to rejoin the flow of earth magic as soon as she reached the mainland. The rest was too painful and tangled with sorrows to speak of yet. She wore both stones about her neck now, for there was no risk of the earth spirit drawing her into itself when she was not touching earth.
As the long, serene day wore on, Little Fur thought of many things, and especially of all that the earth spirit had told her. Mostly, she thought of trollkind and wondered how she could convince the trolls to open themselves to earth magic. Perhaps she could use the troll Sly and Danger had captured, though it would be better by far if she could convince the Troll King. If he opened himself to the flow of earth magic, the rest would follow. And once earth magic flowed through them, they would begin to grow and Become whatever it was they ought to have Become in the last age, if the elves had not prevented them from making stone magic.
Unfortunately, she could think of no way to convince the Troll King. Even if she used the magic that remained in the stone to take herself directly to him, he would probably kill her. She turned the riddle over and over in her mind, but could find no answer as the hours of day gave way to dusk, and then to the star-dappled night.
At last, in the silver-gray light before dawn, Little Fur saw a black speck flying like an arrow toward her.
“Little Fur! Little Fur!” screeched Crow, circling overhead. “What are you doing on this big fishiness?”
Little Fur laughed for sheer joy at hearing his dear loud voice, and she shouted for him to land. He refused, exclaiming that Crows were the favorite food of such vast unnatural creatures as she was riding.
“It is Danger!” Little Fur cried. “He has learned to change his shape again! Come down!”
After some fluttering and flapping and several cries of “Nevermore!” Crow landed on Danger and hopped hastily onto her lap. Little Fur stroked his lustrous black feathers and kissed his head. She told him what a brave, marvelous, clever bird he was, until he was so full of pride that, for the first time in his life, he was silent. Only then did the link they shared with Ginger tell her that the gray cat was also near.
“Ginger?” Little Fur said.
“Ginger riding in the belly of the road serpent,” Crow said. “He and some others. They wait on the shorefulness. We came because Gem saw that the mouth of the sea would swallowing you, but that you would returning, with the knowing of how to rejoining the flow of earth magic.”
“I do know,” said Little Fur, wondering whom he meant when he said “some others.” Before she could ask, the sun opened its eye and the sea shone and glimmered. In the distance, Little Fur saw land.
It was not long before they were close enough for her to see the sandy white shore and the black rocks that Ofred and Danger had sat on, waiting for the mysterious gift from the sea. Little Fur could see the shaggy wander sitting on the shore with a little cluster of lemmings around him. As she waved, a net of gulls rose into the sky to weave a pattern of welcome and curiosity. Crow gave a loud caw and flapped up to join them. She looked eagerly for Ginger’s gray form, but could not see him.
“Now you must swim, for the land is calling to the sea. If I go nearer, I will be drawn up on the beach, which would be dangerous for this shape,” said Danger.
Little Fur was not afraid. To return to land was far easier than sailing away from it. Besides, the land was calling the sea and the sea was surrendering, flowing in and in. She slid off Danger’s back into the salten water. “Goodbye, Danger. And thank you!” Little Fur called to the huge beast.
“Tell Sly that I will visit her when I take a shape that can walk on the land again,” he sang.
Little Fur promised she would. Then she ceased resisting the waves and let them carry her to land, until she felt the sand under her feet. She staggered a little as the water fell back; then Ginger and Sorrow were on either side of her, urging her to lean on them. When they were on dry sand, she hugged one and then the other and then the first again, laughing and crying in her joy at seeing them.
“What happened to Nobody?” Little Fur asked Sorrow.
“The human is caring for her,” said the fox, a flicker of gold in his green eyes as he added proudly, “but she is wild and will nowt be tamed.”
“Who found her?” Little Fur asked.
“Crow did!” Crow squawked, swooping down. “Crow the Clever was seeing whiteness of vixen in high house in cage. Crow watching and seeing that she was bettering and bettering.” He landed and preened himself, adding, “Crow having great cleverness, and best eyes of any bird.”
“How is Nobody?” Little Fur asked.
“She cannot walking, and so human laying her in softed woven basket in sunlight. But Crow can’t landing there. Can’t talking to vixen.”
“I spoke to her,” Ginger said quietly. “I told her that we would help her be free as soon as she was healed. But she said she needed no help, for the human had accepted her wildness and meant to free her outside the city when her bones were healed. She said that she would go back to the ice mountains.”
Little Fur could not help looking at Sorrow, who said, “I let my pride send Nobody away, but I will nowt be such a fool again. When I heard that she had been hurt and taken by a human, all my cold and canny doubts were swallowed by my fear for her. I saw suddenly that love comes like sunlight at the end of a long winter, and only a great fool would turn from it, claiming to be unworthy. Love is a gift, and once Nobody is free, if she will have me still I will run with her to the ice mountains, or wherever she would run.”
“I am so glad,” Little Fur said with all her heart.
“Greetings, Healer,” said Wander, coming to join them. “You have very interesting friends. It comes to me that merely being your friend is to journey far. If you would permit me, I will visit you in your wilderness.”
“I would like that very much,” Little Fur said.
Crow interrupted them. “Crow must flying. Must announcing important news of Little Fur’s return from the mouth of great sea on the back of a giantful fishiness. Must telling Tillet, and Gem, who is now Sett Owl! Must telling Sly!” As he flapped into the air, his eyes shone with delight at the thought of being the bearer of such important and extraordinary tidings. Little Fur thought that for once, even if he told no more than the exact truth, everyone would believe he exaggerated.
But his words had reminded her of Danger’s message. “Where is Sly? Did she go to Underth to spy on the Troll King?”
“She did,” said Ginger. “She went and she came back. It was he who sent out the troll Tillet watches over, and a hundred others besides. They were to steal your green stone. Sly said the Troll King desires nothing more than to possess it.”
Little Fur’s eyes opened wide and she drew a long breath as the answer she had striven for since leaving the deepest green came to her. “I think that he must have what he desires, then.”
She looked down at the two stones hanging from her neck and touched her mother’s stone with a soft finger. This one she would keep, for it had saved her life through her mother’s will. The other, warm to her touch and full of potent and irreplaceable magic, she would give to the small troll. Or perhaps it would be better to allow it to steal the stone and escape, for it would be suspicious of any kindness. Once it got away, it would race triumphantly down to Underth to give the precious stone to the Troll King, who would evoke its power.
The simple perfection of it made her want to laugh.
“Why would you let the Troll King have what he wants?” asked the wander curiously.
“Because, more than anything in the world, I want to give him what he wants,” said Little Fur, and she burst out l
aughing. She ran up the sand toward the waving sea grass. She wove through the tufts until she came to brown earth where green grass grew thickly, flecked with purple and yellow flowers. She stopped and at last allowed her yearning to reach down into the earth.
The magic-filled stone hanging from her neck pulsed hot. Earth magic flowed to her feet and up through her body, right to the tips of each furled ear, with such force that she nearly fell over. Little Fur felt herself embraced and filled, all at the same time.
Then the flow of earth magic surged with joy so that the others all stiffened with surprise at the feel of it.
Oh, clever! You have solved the riddle! The moment the Troll King evokes the stone magic, he will draw me to him in all my strength. To reach him, I must flow through all of his city. The stone pulsed in Little Fur’s fingers, and she heard the earth spirit’s voice continue. You know that once you let this stone be taken away, I will never be able to speak to you quite so clearly again?
Little Fur nodded. “Sometimes a sacrifice is the only way.”
Oh, my dearest one, whispered the earth spirit. I am so proud of you.
Little Fur smiled and looked around at Sorrow and Ginger. “Let’s go home,” she said.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks first to my Australian editor, Nan, who understands that editing is not merely correcting but a vital part of the creative process. Thanks also to the wonderful editorial team of Mallory, Chelsea, and Nicholas at Random House in the States, who prove to me that if you are good enough, you can gild the lily. I am lucky to have all of you, because your editing makes me a better writer. Thanks also to Katrina for her burnishing and for telling me about Guerrilla Gardening. Long live all Guerrilla Gardeners!
Heartfelt thanks also to Marina for her wonderful, innovative design skills.
Thanks to the Francouzska Crêperie on Janovského Street in Prague, where I wrote most of this book, and to David and Bernadette, who endured my writing the last of it in their apartment in irresistible Hong Kong. Last but not least, thanks to Gilbert, who let me send the last edited chapter at the last minute from the warm, friendly YHA hostel in Apollo Bay.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Isobelle Carmody began the first of her highly acclaimed Obernewtyn Chronicles while she was still in high school, and worked on it while completing a bachelor of arts and then a journalism cadetship. The series and her short stories have established her at the forefront of fantasy writing in Australia.
She has written many award-winning short stories and books for young people. The Gathering was a joint winner of the 1993 CBC Book of the Year Award and the 1994 Children’s Peace Literature Award. Billy Thunder and the Night Gate (published as Night Gate in the United States) was short-listed for the Patricia Wrightson Prize for Children’s Literature in the 2001 NSW Premier’s Literary Awards.
Isobelle divides her time between her homes in Australia and the Czech Republic.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2009 by Isobelle Carmody
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Yearling, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York. Originally published in hardcover in Australia as The Legend of Little Fur, Book 4, A Riddle of Green by Viking, an imprint of Penguin Books Australia, Camberwell, in 2008.
Yearling and the jumping horse design are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Carmody, Isobelle.
Riddle of green / Isobelle Carmody. — 1st American ed.
p. cm. — (Little Fur; bk. 4)
Originally published: The legend of Little Fur, book 4, a riddle of green. Australia. Viking, 2008. Summary: When the healer Little Fur loses her connection to earth magic and sets out on a quest across the sea with a mad lemur and a shapeshifting panther, she unravels some of the mystery surrounding her own half-elf, half-troll origins.
eISBN: 978-0-375-89300-1
[1. Elves—Fiction. 2. Trolls—Fiction. 3. Adventure and adventurers—Fiction. 4. Animals—Fiction. 5. Ecology—Fiction. 6. Fantasy.] 1. Title.
PZ7.C2176Rid 2009
[Fic]—dc22
2008032524
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