The chattering and squirming and pulling out of cushions from underneath each other stopped instantly. Amazing, how he did that. Ben made a note to himself to figure out how it was done.
“So, Ben, let’s hear about this Death Swamp Duel.”
“It’s a way for two riders to settle a dispute without their whole divisions—or now, their entire lands—going to war.”
Mr. Murley raised an eyebrow. “So duels save lives.”
“Tell him about the Death Swamp,” Casey hissed. “Just the smell of the Death Swamp makes the bravest riders shake in their boots. The water’s so stinkified—so foul—it breathes fire.”
“Fire-breathing water?”
Mrs. Murley’s eyes begged Ben to deny it, but he couldn’t. It was true. “The duel used to be fought down in the mud. In the swamp itself. But so many duelers died without even settling their disputes, that a boardwalk was built through the swamp. There are some narrower boardwalks that you can enter from the north and south sides of the swamp to get to the main boardwalk, but those aren’t used for duels.”
“So the fire-breathing water is avoided completely,” Twig said.
“But if you falled, the gators would eat you.”
“Casey!”
“She’s right. Animals can smell blood, you know,” Regina said.
“There are alligators?” Mr. Murley asked.
“Swamp lizards,” all the girls said together.
“They’re like alligators,” Casey explained.
Ben sat back and crossed his arms. “I won’t fall.”
“But one of you has to fall. Isn’t that how it works?” Mr. Murley pressed him.
“The flag of each rider is planted on one end of the swamp. Each rider starts on the end of the swamp where his flag is. A rider has to go through the swamp, take his opponent’s flag, and come out of the swamp with it in order to win.”
“But one of them usually dies,” Regina said.
Casey nodded, giving Ben a defiant look.
“What about Stone Heart?” Mandy said in a hushed voice.
Casey nodded. “The Boy King’s unicorn. He’s never met his match.”
Ben squared his shoulders and looked into each girl’s eyes. “Stone Heart never met Indigo Independence!”
A gathering of herdsmen would’ve raised fists and voices in a cheer at that. The girls hugged each other tighter. Mr. and Mrs. Murley exchanged silent looks.
Ben was still trying to make out what Twig thought, whose side she was going to take, when she spoke up. “I’m going to figure something out. There’s going to be a duel to save Westland and Eastland from going to war. Ben’s going to win for Westland, but he’s going to do it without getting killed—and without killing the Boy King, Reynald.”
The girls murmured. Casey looked at Twig doubtfully.
Twig’s shoulders sagged. She too had hoped for cheers. A crazy thing to hope for, since what she’d just proposed was even more unlikely than Ben’s claim that he could win.
“Twig,” Mr. Murley said, “Ben, girls, I think Mrs. Murley and I are going to discuss this on our own now.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Murley said. “Back to work, all of you.”
Back to work is right. Whatever the Murleys said, he had a duel to win in six weeks. He had to prepare—for the fight and for the fact that these might be his last days with Indy. The end of his dreams, of his father’s dreams for him. Would his father really want him to do this? He’d entrusted him with the island and its herd. That’s what he’d want him to focus on, not Terracornus and all its problems. Problems he’d warned Ben could destroy him. He didn’t care what Merrill said; Ben was certain his father would’ve never wanted Ben to go back there and get involved. But the unicorn thief had given him no choice.
That’s not true. I made a choice at the banquet. A decision all my own.
Chapter 26
Ben whispered one last apology to Indy, gave Wonder a pat, and closed the door to their stall. Twig stood in the aisle waiting for him. Five more faces peered eagerly around her. The girls of Island Ranch had called a secret meeting to discuss the duel during evening chore time.
Normally, one or both of the Murleys would be out in the stable helping to get the animals ready for the night, but tonight they were in the house, huddled over cups of coffee, having a meeting of their own. About how to keep Ben from the duel, no doubt. Maybe even about how to keep either of them from going back to Terracornus. Ben had warned Twig this gathering with the girls had better not turn into the same kind of meeting.
“Did you bring it?” Casey’s big brown eyes brimmed with hope and anticipation.
Ben pulled out the rolled-up map. He’d told Twig that sharing the map with the girls was a bad idea, but she’d insisted they needed as much information as they could get in order to come up with a plan.
Twig was stubborn. There was no point in trying to argue with her. But she was smart too. She’d see soon enough that he was right. There was no easy way—no safe way—to win a Death Swamp Duel.
The cluster of girls spread out around the edges of the stable aisle. Ponies nickered curiously from their stalls. Twig brushed stray wood shavings from the dirt floor, and Ben knelt and rolled out the map. Twilight glowed through the skylights overhead, a springlike, jewel blue, while mist drifted past the stable windows, making its brightness, its hope, feel even farther away, even more out of reach.
The map of the Death Swamp spoke of a much grimmer reality. Ben’s reality. Everything that stood between him and his hopes. His very future. Maybe his dying for the unicorns of Westland would remind his mother and Griffin what was really important.
The girls got down on knees and bellies. They held down the curling paper with elbows and palms.
“Ooh!” Janessa said.
“Cree-py,” Mandy said under breath.
Heavy black letters labeled the map: Death Swamp, Duels and Disasters. The unfortunate words were too big to try to hide them from the girls.
Ben said, “The man who made this map was very…interested in the swamp and its stories.”
“You mean obsessed!” Regina said. “Look at all those drawings!”
Along the border of the map, swamp lizards snapped their powerful jaws, full of crooked, blackened teeth. Serpents slithered around the swords and toxic gasses swirled among the bows of fallen travelers and duelers, reminding the viewer that weapons couldn’t save anyone unwise enough to wander into the wrong part of the swamp from their deadly poison.
“It’s beautifully drawn.” Twig’s eyes moved hungrily over the ink renderings accented with watercolor. Her finger hovered over lines, and he could see her contemplating how they were made, how she might do the same. Finally, she looked up at Ben. “Is it old?”
Ben smoothed out a wrinkle over the signature: Elijah Murley. “A family heirloom.”
Casey mouthed Murley, making little whispering sounds, as she couldn’t help doing whenever she read to herself. She looked up at Ben. “We’ll be careful,” she promised solemnly.
“Move your feet,” Mandy muttered to Regina. “They’re dirty.”
Regina gave Mandy a little slap on the arm, but she pulled her feet back.
Taylor scrunched up her forehead in thought. “Is it still current, though?”
Ben smiled. “Nothing much changes in the Death Swamp. Here you can see the entrance to the boardwalk on the Eastland side. And here it is on the Westland side.”
“Look at that!” Taylor braced herself against Janessa’s knee and leaned forward, trying not to touch the map.
In the south end of the swamp, a blue flame burst from the water. Thankfully, Elijah had enough of the Earth Land’s sense of propriety not to include the body of the swamp fire’s victim. Instead, there was a simple cross labeled John of Redbud, along with the date of his unfortunate death. Here a
nd there, a pure white horn protruded from swamp grass or mud, and the name of a brave and beloved mount was penned.
Casey touched her fingertip to the image of swamp fire, then pulled back, cringing as though it had singed her. “It’s like a great big story,” she whispered. “A great big, scary story.”
Beside him, Ben felt Twig tense. Then she straightened up. “Yes, it looks scary. And that’s why we’re here, to try to find a way to help Ben through it.”
Casey said, “I know. We could train Emmie to grab the Boy King’s flag. Ben wouldn’t even have to go into the swamp. She could just fly to the other side, high enough the fire can’t get her and—”
“That would be cheating,” Mandy said.
Casey looked to Ben.
“The contestant has to take the flag,” he said. “No one else can do it for him.”
Her face fell. “Not even a bird?”
Twig shook her head and gave Casey a squeeze. “It was a good idea, though.”
Taylor cupped her chin in her palm, leaning on her elbows. “What exactly are the rules?”
“We have to go through the swamp and—”
“Through the swamp!” Twig cried. “So, you don’t have to use the boardwalk! Look. The boardwalk weaves through the swamp.” She traced her finger over the snakelike line. “It’s not the fastest route.”
Ben crossed his arms. “It’s the only route.”
“But what if it isn’t?”
“Twig, they didn’t build that boardwalk for nothing. You cannot get through the swamp without it.”
“How did they build it, then?”
“They had men keeping watch all around them, shooting the swamp lizards whenever they came close.”
“Couldn’t you shoot the swamp lizards?”
“Could be I could shoot a swamp lizard, but every swamp lizard, before it has a chance to attack? I don’t have a crew to keep watch. Besides, the boardwalk is built like this,” he said, making the snaking motion with his arm, “because it follows the easiest route through the swamp. If we tried to brave the mud, it would have to be right alongside the boardwalk. Otherwise Indy and I would be waist deep—or worse—in water. Water full of swamp lizards.”
Regina pushed her thick, dark hair back. “There wouldn’t be much point in avoiding the boardwalk if you had to travel right next to it. You’d still end up fighting, only you’d be fighting in the mud.”
“Twig, you brought the computer, right?”
Twig nodded at Taylor, unzipped her shell, and turned the mini-backpack she always wore under her jacket toward Taylor. Taylor took out the slim little tablet computer the Murleys had recently gotten for the girls to share. That contraption had Ben second-guessing whether there was such a thing as magic. Pictures broken into tiny, invisible bits and floating through the air, reassembled on the glowing screen—a screen that changed every time he touched it.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Research,” Twig answered for Taylor. “Search for ways to get through a swamp.”
“Swamp safety!” Janessa chimed in.
“Swamp monsters!” said Casey.
“But this is the Death Swamp!” Ben said. “Unless you have death swamps in the Earth Land—”
“We have swamps,” Mandy said.
“And swamp men,” Casey added.
“Those aren’t real.”
“How do you know?”
Twig gave Casey a look, and she and Mandy shut their mouths and sat back. “I know it’s not the same,” Twig told Ben, “but we have to figure this out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out. If you want to help me, then help me practice.” Ben reached for the map, to roll it back up. If Twig wasn’t going to help him get ready, then maybe he should get out of this place before the Murleys did anything to try to stop him.
“Got it!” Taylor grinned over the tablet. “A pirogue!”
Ben let go of the map and looked at the glowing screen Taylor held up. “A what?”
“It’s a boat made specially for using in swamps. Look. It has a flat bottom. Wonder and Indy could stand in it. And they’re light and easy to carry.”
Regina scrolled down the screen. “Yeah, but they’re found mostly in the South. Louisiana, Florida…where are we going to get a pirogue in Washington state?”
Taylor frowned, then tapped and scrolled with renewed determination. “There!” She turned the computer around so they all could see.
“‘Pirogue kits. Easy to build pirogues for beginners. Two-day delivery available.’ We could have it shipped to Cedar Harbor and take Blue Molly to pick it up.”
“Blue Molly?”
“The Murleys’ boat,” Twig explained.
Janessa looked over Taylor’s shoulder. “They list all the supplies you need, and they send the hard parts, like the ribs, already made!”
Ben took the tablet and read the list. He turned to Twig. “What’s plywood?”
“It’s like fake wood.” Mandy made a face.
“It’s not fake. It’s pressed together,” Twig corrected.
“The point,” Taylor said, “is that it’s light and inexpensive.”
Twig studied the series of pictures on the website, showing the steps involved in building the pirogue. “We just might be able to do this.”
“Mr. M could help us build it,” Janessa said. “If we explain that you’ll be safe in the boat—”
“Wait a minute,” Ben said. “I won’t be safe in a boat in the Death Swamp. This pirogue, it’s not a bad idea, but…” He glanced nervously at Twig. “No one’s tried to boat through that water in hundreds of years—if ever. And if I do make it through, I’ve left Westland’s flag completely unprotected during the trip. If Reynald gets there first, I won’t be there to stop him. I won’t even know. He’ll just ride right down the boardwalk and take my flag without even a fight.”
“That’s what we’re trying to do. Not fight, right?” Casey said.
“If I’m just going to let him take Westland’s flag, I might as well not even show up!”
“You won’t have to worry about the flag, because he won’t get there first.” Twig put her hands on the map, one on each side of the Death Swamp. “Look how narrow the swamp is, compared to the length of the boardwalk.”
“But a pirogue just floats along,” Regina said. “It’s slow. If the Boy King is galloping along—”
Ben straightened up. He set the computer aside. “He cannot gallop.”
“What?”
“The boardwalk is rickety. It’s old. It cannot take pounding hooves. Parts of it are even sagging into the swamp and have to be jumped. A rider has to go slowly, cautiously.”
“So it could work!” Twig said.
Janessa’s mouth sagged in a rare frown. “Isn’t it kinda cheating though?”
Twig shrugged. “It’s not against the rules. Ben, you could do this.”
“If I didn’t have to worry about the dangers of the swamp, yes, a boat could get to the other side faster, I think. But—”
“You have a map. A good one. You know where the swamp fire is and where the swamp lizards nest. And if you can shoot from the back of a unicorn, you can do it standing in a boat.”
“Twig—”
“It’s the only way, Ben. You’ll have us all behind you. Otherwise…”
“I’ll think about it.” Ben waved the girls off the map and rolled it up. He had no intention of doing any such thing.
“He’s mad,” Casey whispered.
Of course he was mad. Twig was supposed to be his partner. Hadn’t she said so when he’d tried to go looking for Indy by himself? And now she was siding with all of them, against him.
They are her family. The thought cut him. Hadn’t he told her that? But where did that leave him? Alone, that’s where. N
o one in his family would side with him. Probably Merrill wouldn’t either. Especially if Twig convinced him not to.
Twig whispered something to Taylor and Casey, and they grabbed the other girls by the hand and left the stable.
Good riddance.
“You can do this, Ben.” Twig’s eyes gleamed with determination.
“You want to build a pirogue,” Ben said as he tucked the map away. “Here, at the ranch?”
“Well, we’d need Mr. Murley’s help with the supplies and the tools.”
Ben strode to the tack room and began to gather Indy’s things. “It’s not going to happen. Mr. Murley won’t do it.”
“Ben! What are you doing?”
“Going back to Terracornus.”
“You can’t!”
“I cannot let this war happen either—not when I know there’s a thing I can do about it. The unicorns’ numbers are dwindling. If Eastland and Westland break their truce, others will be drawn into the war with them. It’s not just that so many unicorns will die—this could lead to them dying out altogether.”
“You can’t go. What if they take Indy? Besides, you can’t do this all by yourself.”
“I would’ve been able to do it if I’d kept it to myself. Now they all know, and what am I supposed to do?”
Twig opened her mouth to argue, then sank deeper into her shell. Into her old self.
Much as it pained Ben to see it, he couldn’t resist going on. “You took that message. That message that was supposed to be for me, and now they all know, and the Murleys are going to try to stop me!”
Teary blue eyes regarded him above the quivering collar of Twig’s shell. She turned to leave. But then she poked her chin out and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ben. I messed up.”
Ben looked away so he wouldn’t have to watch her tears. She made a little choking sound.
Then her voice steadied and she said, “But you’re about to mess things up even worse if you leave. You’re going to get killed—if you don’t get captured again. You’re so worried about the Murleys, but what do you think your mother will do?”
“She isn’t going to know. Not until it’s over.”
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