"What the heck is that?" Char asked.
"The Spice Folk," Mrs. Snodgrass replied. "They're very sad to see you go, Char. They're going to miss you."
The sniffs turned into a chorus of wails.
"What is she talkin' about?" Char demanded of Clemency. "They won't miss me. The Spice Folk hate me."
"They do not," Clemency insisted. "They love to torture you. That's a sign that they like you. They only pick on you if they do."
"Good thing they don' love me, then," Char muttered. "I'd never survive."
Mrs. Snodgrass waved at the ravens again. "Shoo!" she shouted. The birds ignored her, continuing their dark circle. "Keep your heads covered, loves," the innkeeper said. She blew them all a kiss, then made her way back into the Inn and closed the griffin door.
"Let's get out of here," Ven said to Tuck. The forester nodded and clicked to the horses. The wagon lurched, then began rolling smoothly and quickly eastward toward the Great River.
The ravens above widened their circle and flew after them.
"Bloody spies," Char muttered. "I think we're sunk already, Ven. They're just gonna go right back to Felonia and tell her where we've gone."
So much for making her believe we've left the island on a ship, Ven thought. "I don't know what else we can do," he said.
"Get down," ordered Tuck.
Ven turned to see the forester rise from the seat board and swing a crossbow to a shoulder.
"Duck!" Ven shouted to his friends. He looked up into the sky and watched in shock as the flock of ravens began diving for the wagon, shrieking.
Two thuds and two whistling noises came from the front of the wagon. The closest birds fell from the air. A second later, another clicking sound, two more thuds, and two more birds fell.
With a whistling scream, four black birds strafed the wagon. Tuck dodged out of the way as they sailed through, low, from front to back, sending the children scrambling for the wagon corners.
Right behind them came four more. These birds did not fly past, but rather aimed for the back left corner, where Saeli had taken cover. They dove at her, their claws extended.
Three flew on as she ducked, swiping at her.
The fourth one snagged her hair.
A high-pitched squeak blurted forth from within Saeli's braid. A tiny face emerged, its wide, glassy eyes darting nervously. Just as the ravens struck at the little Gwadd girl, it dove from her hair, skittering in the opposite direction and into a pile of sacks on the other side of the wagon.
"They're after the bloody keekee," Char said, his arm over his head to shield his hair from the white droppings that were raining down from above. "They must be hungry. Ugh. Bloody skyvermin."
"Here, Saeli, grab my hand!" Clem seized hold of Saeli as the raven dragged the little girl around in a circle by her braid.
Another cry rent the air above, and a large shadow passed over the wagon from the west.
"The albatross!" Amariel shouted in wonder. "What's it doing here, so far from the shore?"
"Looking out for us," Ven shouted back as the giant bird swooped amid the pack of remaining ravens. It flew sideways against their paths, keeping them from flying away as Tuck reloaded and fired again and again. His last shot took down the bird that had hold of Saeli's braid. The little girl let go of Clem and dropped into Ven's arms, knocking him onto the wagon floor. The keekee's head popped out of the pile of bags at the corner of the wagon, its eyes crossed. Then it scrambled quickly onto Saeli's head and disappeared into her hair again.
"Cover your heads," Clemency called to Ida and Char as three remaining ravens circled around, heading low for the wagon. The black birds cawed harshly as they approached, their claws at the ready.
Tuck fired.
Amariel spat.
It was a great, thick wad of sputum that soared like a dart and expertly caught one of the birds square in the eye, causing it to falter.
"Yuck!" shrieked Ida.
One of the birds dropped from flight, impaled on a crossbow bolt. The one the merrow spat at veered off, but the third continued on and dove, slashing Char across the head before Tuck shot it from the sky. It landed in the middle of the road, dead.
"Char!" Ven gasped as bright blood sprayed everywhere. He scrambled over to his friend, whose dark hair was now striped red.
Char put his hand out woozily. "I'm all right, mate," he said, waving Ven away. "Stay down, now."
"No, you're not," Clemency said. She rummaged in her pack and pulled out a clean handkerchief, then tossed it to Ven. "Here, put pressure on his head." Ven pressed a handkerchief into Char's bloody hair, his hand shaking.
The last raven made a quick circle over the wagon, turned west and flew away as fast as it could.
"Blow me down," Char said, wincing as Ven applied pressure to his bleeding head. "The blighter's getting away! It's headin' straight for Felonia."
"Can't you shoot him, too?" Clemency said desperately to Tuck.
The forester shook his head. "Out of range."
"It'll get back to the Gated City," Ven said. "We're done for."
"Maybe not," Amariel said. She pointed into the sky.
The giant shadow passed over the wagon again, raising a current of air that ruffled the children's clothes as it flew by. The great bird beat its wings several times, gaining speed with each beat, until a moment later it had caught up to the raven. It sailed in front of the black bird, crossing its path in the air. The raven faltered, and flew north, trying to dodge, but the albatross was faster. It crossed the raven's path again, pushing it closer to the ground. The raven beat its wings and flew skyward, but the giant bird crossed it again. The black bird stuttered in flight.
And, cawing harshly, fell from the sky and slammed into the wagon right in the middle of where they were sitting.
"Ow," whispered Char.
"Thank you," Ven called to the albatross.
"That was horrible," said Clemency, grimacing as she moved away from the dead bird. "Eeeuuuwww." She glanced at Amariel, her lips pressed tightly together. "Come here, Saeli." She put out her arms to the Gwadd, but Saeli shook her head.
"What are you talkin' about?" demanded Ida. "That was great. Well, at least until Ven's strange friend hocked sludge all over the wagon."
"That was a bit odd," Char admitted.
"Did it work?" Amariel asked. "Then don't complain."
The wagon had never stopped rolling through the attack of the birds. Tuck looked up into the sky and, seeing nothing following them, sat back down on the wagon board, picked up the reins, and continued on as if nothing had happened.
From behind some sacks of grain near Amariel, a polite cough was heard.
"If we're voting, Leo and I think that any time evil birds die it's a good thing," said a feline voice. "And spitting is a cousin to hissing, so I don't have a problem with it."
"Murphy! You're here?"
"Obviously," said the voice, full of disdain.
"Why?" Ven asked.
"Do you have a problem with me being here?"
"No," Ven admitted. "It will be good to have you aboard. But won't Mrs. Snodgrass miss you?"
The orange tabby finally stuck his head out from behind the sacks.
"The Spice Folk will keep the rats under control while I'm gone," he said. "Besides, Trudy wants me to look out for her." He nodded in the direction of the merrow, and sighed happily. "And I'm glad to."
"Why?" Ven asked.
"I don't know," Murphy admitted. "There's just something about her that appeals to me, like catnip, or even better, a nice fish head. She smells good."
Ah, Ven thought. That explains it. Cats think she's a giant fish.
"I think I'm in love. Leo likes her, too."
"Who's Leo?" Clemency asked.
Murphy's head disappeared for a moment, then reappeared. A second cat's head popped out behind him. It was the brown tabby that had leapt onto Ven's back.
"Meet Leo," Murphy said.
"Great." Ven
sighed. "Murphy, you tell Leo if he's going to stay he needs to stop clawing at my back and keep away from me."
"Ven," said Murphy, sounding bored, "you should know better by now than to tell a cat what to do. Just mind your own business and there shouldn't be any trouble."
He and Leo sauntered over to the corner where Amariel was cowering. "I have to admit I've sniffed at the keekee myself," Murphy said. "But there's so little meat under all that fluff that the hairballs I'd be coughing up for weeks afterward wouldn't be worth eating it." The orange tabby stretched out his own claws and smiled at the merrow. "Don't worry—if those birds come back, and they come near you, I'll scratch them out of the sky."
The merrow sneezed loudly in reply.
Both cats disappeared back behind the grain sacks.
"You all right, Char?" Ven asked as his best friend sat down, trembling. "You look pale."
"Are you going to throw up ambergris?" Amariel inquired.
Char's bloody forehead wrinkled. "Ambergris?" he demanded. "What do I look like ta you, a whale?"
Amariel shrugged. "Just asking."
Char was plumping several sacks of dried peas into a cushion to sit on. "Well, maybe you should keep your weird questions ta yourself. You're making my head hurt."
"I thought the ravens made his head hurt," Amariel whispered in confusion to Ven. "And why would I keep my questions to myself? If I knew the answer, I wouldn't have a question."
"Don't worry about it," Ven whispered back. "Humans."
The merrow nodded.
The children settled down into the wagon and got as comfortable as they could. Clemency helped Ven clean and bandage Char's head, while Ida snagged the dead raven with her pocket knife and tossed it over the side of the wagon. She gathered the feathers that remained.
"These'll make great fletchings for arrows," she said.
"Good thought," said Tuck from the front of the wagon.
This time all the children jumped.
"It's really pretty creepy how he does that," Char whispered to Ven. Ven turned and saw Tuck smile and push his hat back down over his eyes as he clicked to the horses.
The wagon rumbled eastward, toward the Great River. The straight road was largely empty, so Tuck said they could sit up for a while unless he warned them that a cart or other travelers were coming.
At first the children tried to make pleasant conversation, but there was an awkwardness that made words difficult to come up with. Finally they all lapsed into silence, or dozed or looked for pictures in the clouds overhead.
All except for Amariel. The merrow hung over the side of the wagon, watching every squirrel, every patch of meadow flowers, every thicket of berry bushes that they passed. Ven sat beside her, smiling at her excitement, and quietly telling her the names of everything she pointed to when she grabbed his elbow.
Her only source of distress was the attention of the cats, who took every opportunity to sit in her lap, purring happily.
"Why won't you leave Amariel alone?" Ven demanded during a rest stop after she had stood up to get out of the wagon, sneezing and brushing what seemed like several pounds of cat hair from her clothes.
Murphy shrugged as Leo nuzzled the merrow's ankles.
"She smells so nice," he said. "Like a lovely rotten fishhead that's been baking in the sun."
"And everyone's always tellin' me I have bad hygiene," Ida muttered. "Sheesh."
The merrow glared at her with a look so acid that it made the hairs on Ven's neck stand on end. He could see that she was swishing spit around in her mouth, so he quickly opened the wagon gate for her and pointed to some bushes growing along the roadside. The merrow sulked for a moment, then followed Clem and Saeli. When she returned, she continued to glare at Ida, who met her gaze in return, smirking, a crooked smile on her pale face. Finally the merrow rolled her eyes and went back to watching the scenery.
After a long while, she sat up straight.
"I hear water," she said. "But it doesn't smell right. No salt."
"It's not the sea," Ven said quietly. "That's the sound of the Great River. We're getting almost close enough to see the bridge."
As they rumbled along in the wagon the sound of the river grew louder.
"It sings a totally different song than the sea does," Amariel said to Ven. "It's like another language I can almost understand, but not quite. They are both songs of moving water, but very, very different."
Just as she finished her sentence, the wagon began to slow. Ven sat up straighter and looked over the side as it came to a halt.
"Ven," came Tuck's voice, "come here."
Ven stood up shakily and stretched. He stepped carefully around his friends and the provisions and climbed onto the seat board next to Tuck.
The forester was staring into the east toward the sound of the rushing river. In the distance, Ven could almost make out what he thought was the bridge.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Tuck shook his head. "There's something not right about the way it looks from here," he said, straining to see. "It's darker than it should be, and the shape looks odd."
Ven stood up and looked as hard as he could, but he could barely see the bridge at all. Then a thought occurred to him.
He unbuttoned the shirt pocket where the merrow's cap lay, carefully folded, and took out his great-grandfather's jack-rule. He extended the telescope lens meant for seeing far away, then looked through it.
At first he couldn't be sure what he was seeing. Then, as he kept looking, all his breath left his body.
"No," he said. "Oh, no."
Char climbed through the wagon and stood behind him. "What's the matter?"
Ven handed him the jack-rule, and the cook's mate had a look for himself. He shook his head, and handed it to the Lirin forester. Tuck looked through it, then gave it back to Ven, who put it to his eye one more time.
From a great distance, he could see that the enormous bridge spanning the Great River was covered, on every stanchion, trestle and beam, with ravens.
Thousands of them.
A low, rumbling cough emerged from the depths of the wagon behind a sack of oats.
"Oh, that's not good."
Everyone turned to see an orange feline head emerge, followed by a brown one.
"This is probably not the best time to be comin' out of hidin'," Char noted.
"Actually, I'm glad you did, Murphy," Ven said. "I need you to do something for me."
"Such as?"
Ven looked over his shoulder at the road they had just traveled down. "I know you'd like to come along with us, but we really have to warn Mrs. Snodgrass about these ravens. She's got guests coming to the Inn who travel this road—and workers and deliverymen."
He thought about the gray stone marker that stood in her family burying ground marking the grave of her only son, Gregory, who, like Cadwalder's parents, had been killed at the Crossroads by brigands fifteen years before. He also thought about Mr. Whiting's dogs, and how they had almost put the Inn out of business attacking travelers on the road not long before.
"Mrs. Snodgrass needs to know how dangerous it's become around here—but we can't go back to tell her. If she knows about the ravens, maybe she'll want to bring the kids from Hare Warren and Mouse Lodge into the Inn for a while, or get Otis to stay overnight—he travels this road and crosses the bridge every day. Would you and Leo be willing to take the message back to her?"
The old orange tabby stretched lazily, then rubbed up against Amariel, sending her into a fit of sneezing.
"Oh, I suppose," he said. "Besides, I can smell those birds from here. I'm about to start sneezing myself. Let's go, Leo."
"You can smell the birds?" Char asked.
Murphy sauntered down the wagon bed to the gate, followed by Leo.
"Not as easily as I can smell the rats along the riverbed, but it's clear that there are far more than there should be in any one place. Birds are supposed to be prey to us, not predators. If there are that many, Ve
n's right, and Trudy should know. Besides, if Leo or I die being pecked to death by birds, we'll never live it down."
"Thank you," said Ven. "You should probably keep low in the grass on the way back, so they don't notice and go after you, like they did with the keekee."
"Ven," said Murphy as Leo jumped out of the wagon and onto the road, "don't tell us how to do our job. I think you have enough to worry about. Good luck to you all." He rubbed up against Amariel's legs on the way out of the gate. "Especially you."
"Nice," murmured Clem in disgust as Murphy jumped from the wagon. "I've fed you every morning for the last two years. And you're wishing her luck. Thanks a lot."
"You can have that luck if you want it," Amariel said.
"Now what are we gonna do?" Char asked as the cats slunk into the highgrass heading west and disappeared.
"It would be suicide to try and cross that bridge now," said the forester. "I don't even want to go a step nearer to it. Right now they don't see us, but ravens have better eyesight than humans do. Fortunately, I'm not human, and Ven owns that tool." He nodded at the jack-rule. "Had either of those things not been the case, we would be covered by them by now. That many ravens can kill a small army."
"So what do we do?" Ven asked. "Can we go upriver, to the mill towns? We've been there once before—remember, Char? That's where we saw the windmill."
"Right—it's where we came out of the tunnel after we escaped from the Gated City," said Clemency pointedly. "If Felonia is mad enough, and looking hard enough, she might have found that exit—and maybe has someone waiting for us there, too."
"There is another mill town," Tuck said, rubbing his chin. "But it's south on the river, not north. And it's a strange place—a very strange place. I'm not sure which way is safer. If we go north, we may fall into the hands of the Thief Queen. But if we go south, we may end up in the clutches of the King of the River."
"The King of the River?" asked both boys at once.
Tuck nodded. "His name is Regis, and in his own way, he is every bit as much a thief as Felonia. At least the Lirin of the Enchanted Forest think so. It is said that he is no friend to Felonia. But we must decide what we are going to do quickly. The birds are perched there for now, but they won't roost long before sending out a scout."
The Dragon's Lair Page 8