“Brendan! Fight back!” Occipus yelled, but there was no fight in Brendan. Gaius was stronger, bigger, and faster.
Brendan fell to his knees and dropped his sword. He closed his eyes, about to pass out. Gaius stepped over him—
And pressed his sword against Brendan’s neck.
Back in the monastery of Batan Chekrat, Eleanor arose from her straw bed in the middle of the night. She had told her sister, Will, and Felix, who had all gone to sleep nearby, that she didn’t really intend for them to walk out on the monks the next day. But if they were going to fight the frost beasts, she needed to confirm something that she suspected. And she was going to do that now. She started to tiptoe out of the room when she heard “Psst! What are you doing?”
Cordelia was also awake, sitting up, with a book on her lap.
“I’m . . . well . . . ,” Eleanor started. “What is that?”
Cordelia hesitated—but then showed Eleanor the diary of Eliza May Kristoff. “I’m trying to get it open.”
Eleanor took a closer look. “It’s by the Wind Witch’s mom? You have to get it open!”
“I know, but the key must be back in Kristoff House—”
“Why didn’t you tell us about this? Deal! This is like a huge clue!”
“I know, but it may be a fake. I didn’t want to say anything until I actually get it open and read it. I’m trying to use this.” Cordelia held up a crooked bobby pin. “But apparently I’m not a safecracker. But more importantly . . . what are you doing? What’s your big, secret plan?”
“The library,” said Eleanor. “I’m going to see if I can get some information about this Door of Ways.”
“You’re going to sneak around in the middle of the night to check out a book?” Cordelia said. “You are my sister!”
Eleanor smiled. But Cordelia’s expression turned serious. “I’m going with you.”
“No, Deal,” said Eleanor.
“But what if you get caught?”
“There’s more of a chance that two of us will get caught than one. Besides, I’m smaller. I’m better at hiding.”
“Okay,” sighed Cordelia. “Just, please . . . be careful.”
Eleanor gave her a fist bump. “I will.”
Once she was out of the room, Eleanor snuck through the winding corridors and large, open spaces of the monastery. She thought about how mice move, always staying close to the wall, and tried to imitate that. She thought if she were out in the open, it would be easy to get caught by one of the monks—and to be tossed to the frost beasts prematurely.
She nearly shrieked as a monk with a huge forehead approached—then realized it was the shadow of a statue in the moonlight. She arrived at a hallway that split in two directions and tried to remember which way the library was located. After a few moments of deliberation, she decided to make a left turn. She passed two giant doors behind which she assumed there was some kind of indoor yak pen, because she smelled an earthy odor—but then she heard, “Aaarf! Rrraf! Rraaf!”
It was dogs. Louder and more vicious than Eleanor had ever heard. And she heard a thump as something big threw itself against the doors.
Eleanor ran away. That was larger than any dog! Maybe it was a yak. Maybe yaks can bark. But no, I could almost hear the spit in the jaws, just like you see on a pit bull. It was dogs! Giant attack dogs! Oh, stop being a baby and stop worrying!! Just keep moving!
Finally Eleanor came to the monks’ atrium and entered. She looked for the shelf that Wangchuk had pointed out—the one that featured books about the Door of Ways—but she couldn’t find it in the dark. So she just began examining all the books, checking out the titles: Martial Arts for Monks, Monk Folk Dancing, 30-Minute Meals for Monks . . . nothing about the Door of Ways. Then she froze.
There was someone else there, standing by one of the shelves.
“Eleanor?”
Wangchuk. Eleanor was terrified—but she couldn’t show it. She had come too far to back down now.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, it’s me.” She stepped forward.
“What are you doing here?” asked Wangchuk. “You know it is forbidden for anyone to be here after hours.”
“I came to learn about the Door of Ways,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” said Wangchuk. “But that is a sacred subject. The words are not meant for your ears.”
“Oh really?” asked Eleanor. “Just like the words I heard today?”
“What words?”
“What your ‘brother’ said. The one with the bamboo stick. I know this traveling-warriors thing is a made-up story. You’ve been lying.”
“That isn’t true,” said Wangchuk. “There is truly a prophecy that someday, someone who arrives here will be able to defeat the beasts—”
“And they always end up dead,” said Eleanor.
“Well, yes. That has been somewhat of an issue. But it only proves one thing . . . that those who came were not strong enough. But I believe you may be.”
“You are so full of it. . . .”
Suddenly Wangchuk held up his hand and shut his fingers and thumb tightly.
Eleanor’s voice died in her throat.
She suddenly couldn’t talk!
What are you doing to me? she tried to say.
“The brothers of Batan Chekrat possess more than insight,” Wangchuk said. “I did not want to use my magic on you, but I also do not appreciate being insulted. Now wait here.”
Wangchuk turned and walked to a far corner of the library. He climbed a ladder and removed a book from the top shelf: a large, yak-fur-bound book. He opened it, holding it out in front of him.
“Our sacred text of ancient prophecies,” he said. “In it are the words that predict the coming of the traveling warriors.”
And as he spoke, letters began to magically lift off the pages. They formed sentences in midair in front of Eleanor.
“Go on, Eleanor,” said Wangchuk. “Read. Maybe this will make you believe that I am telling the truth.”
All this time, Wangchuk had been holding his fingers and thumb together, and now he opened them.
Eleanor could speak again.
Amazed, she placed her finger on the floating letters in front of her face.
“‘There will be traveling warriors,’” read Eleanor aloud, slowly, making sure she didn’t mix up the words. “‘And they shall display remarkable courage.’”
As Eleanor read each word, the letters floated back down and returned to the pages of the book, soon replaced by more sentences. Eleanor looked at Wangchuk, her expression curious.
“Continue,” said Wangchuk.
“‘These warriors,’” read Eleanor, “‘will be greatly rewarded.’”
“That is correct,” said Wangchuk. “And the greatest reward is the Door of Ways. I admit I have withheld information from you. The Door is not only where aspiring monks arrive. Entering it is the highest achievement for any warrior. And if you defeat the frost beasts, you and your friends will be able to do so.”
“But how will the Door help us?”
“It will take you home.”
“Are you sure?” Eleanor asked.
“It is very dangerous to be sure of anything,” Wangchuk said. “The Door of Ways does not grant its secrets lightly. There will be a final challenge for each of you. A test.”
“What kind of test?”
“Unfortunately, I know nothing about that,” said Wangchuk, closing the book. “Now go back to your room and get sleep. You’ll need much energy for battle. Unless, of course, you are still planning to leave?”
“No,” said Eleanor. “We’re going to stay, and we’re going to fight. I was wrong about you, Wangchuk. I think you’re a good person, even if you’re harsh, and kinda weird.”
“What do you expect?” Wangchuk said. “I’m a monk!”
“There is one more thing: If we beat the frost beasts, after we go, all of you monks need to become vegetarians. I feel so bad for the poor yaks. I thought monks were veget
arians anyway!”
“We’ll consider it,” Wangchuk said.
“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” said Eleanor. “We’re not fighting the frost beasts alone. You’re going to help us beat them.”
“Me? That is not possible,” said Wangchuk. “I don’t fight. You are the traveling warriors.”
“Enough of that!” said Eleanor. “And we’re not only going to need you. Your brothers need to help as well.”
“But—”
“Don’t argue,” said Eleanor, her voice surprisingly strong and commanding. “You have powerful magic. First, you did that cinnamony thing on the mountain, where you revived us when we were practically dead. Then you just made me shut my mouth and not be able to speak—which nobody can do. We aren’t going to be able to beat the frost beasts without your magic.”
“But ancient legend says that the traveling warriors will—”
“I don’t care what ancient legend says!” Eleanor said. “We’re making our own legends now. And one of the things that warriors do is lead people. So we’re going to help you, but only if you help us. Is that clear?”
Wangchuk hesitated, but then a big smile came over his face. “Very well.”
“What’s so funny? Why are you smiling?”
“The traveling-warrior legend says that there will be one who is greatest of all,” said Wangchuk. “One who shall display remarkable courage. And now I know which one that is.”
Eleanor beamed with pride.
“Hey, one more thing!” she said. “Do you have magic that can open a lock?”
Cordelia was awake when Eleanor came into the room with Wangchuk. She had been up worried about her sister and was overjoyed when Eleanor filled her in on what had happened. With the monks’ magic on their side, Cordelia felt the same way as Eleanor: They might actually beat the beasts.
Cordelia gave Eliza May Kristoff’s diary to Wangchuk. He examined the book’s metal lock and spread his fingers across it. He muttered a few words, in a language that Cordelia and Eleanor could not understand, and the book’s lock exploded in several pieces. The cover popped open.
“I think you’re tele . . . telkin . . . ,” Eleanor started.
“Telekinetic,” said Cordelia.
Wangchuk bowed and departed.
“I’m going to check out the diary, just a little, and then we’re going to get some sleep,” Cordelia said. “I can’t believe Will and Felix are still out.”
“They’re like animals,” Eleanor said, nudging a snoring Felix.
Cordelia began paging through the diary.
Her eyes widened as she read. A look of shock and surprise covered her face. Eleanor was watching.
“What?” she asked. “Something important?”
“Nothing,” said Cordelia. “Boring stuff. So far it’s a real slog to get through.” She squirmed inside. She hated lying to her sister, but she didn’t know what else to do.
Eleanor knew Cordelia. If Eliza May Kristoff’s diary were really boring, Cordelia wouldn’t be reading it. Nor would she be staring at the pages in horror.
Eleanor was hurt. But if she had been able to peer into Cordelia’s thoughts, she would know the real reason Cordelia wasn’t talking.
It was because she was thinking: No, no! This can’t be true!
As the oldest, Cordelia promised herself she would never tell anyone the horrible secret she was discovering. Her family had already been through enough. This . . . this was something they didn’t need to know.
The next morning at breakfast (yak bacon), Will was having a hard time agreeing with Eleanor’s decision to fight the frost beasts.
“It’s madness,” he said. “We’ll be eaten before you can say ‘Yorkshire pudding.’”
“If we survive, we’ll get to the Door of Ways,” said Eleanor, “which will get us home—so long as we pass its test.”
“No,” said Will. “There’s no such thing as this door. It’s a fairy story, a whole lot of rubbish. These people will say anything to get us to do their heavy lifting. I don’t know why you trust them. There’s something very strange about a group of men who live alone on top of a mountain—”
“They’re characters in a book,” Eleanor said, “just like you. Give them a break!”
That stung Will. He spent a good part of each day forgetting that he wasn’t a true flesh-and-blood person. Eleanor saw his face fall.
“I’m sorry—that was mean,” she said. “You’re much more than a character in a book to us. You’re a real person. And we love you. But you should have some sympathy for these monks. They’re trapped here. All they want is to be free.”
“I understand,” said Will.
“Me too,” said Felix. “All I ever wanted was to be free.”
“You’re right,” said Will. “I think one of the things we share . . . those of us who are from these books . . . is this sense that we’re trapped. Whether we’re fighting a war that never seems to end, or fighting in an arena for days and days . . . it always seems to go on and on, with no end in sight. It’s a bit like a curse . . . we all long for something more than Kristoff wrote for us.”
“Look, Will,” said Eleanor. “You and Deal won’t even have to fight the frost beasts.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Cordelia.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” said Eleanor. “I can fight the frost beasts. With Felix.”
“What?” Felix asked. “Just us?”
“Someone has to go back to Rome to get Brendan,” said Eleanor, “so we split up. Two and two. Felix will stay with me because he’s used to fighting a lot of creatures at once—”
“Nell, you’re out of your mind!” Cordelia said. “You and Felix can’t fight these things on your own—”
“I’d like to point out,” said Felix, “that I’ve never fought fifty large animals at once. I mean, I can do it. But it is going to be a challenge.”
“No kidding,” said Cordelia.
“It’ll be fine. I’m fast,” said Eleanor. “Superfast. And we’ll have the monks to help us.”
“Are you feeling all right, Nell?” asked Will. “All of a sudden you’ve become a mini Winston Churchill.”
“For the first time in forever, I actually can see a way home!” Eleanor said. “I know we can do this!”
“But can you get your sister to agree?” asked Will.
“It’s fine,” said Cordelia, giving up. It was hard for her to focus. Her mind wouldn’t stop reeling from what she had read in the diary the night before. Every time she thought she wasn’t thinking about it—there it was.
After breakfast, on hearing Eleanor’s plan, Wangchuk led the kids to the giant double doors that Eleanor had passed the night before. Eleanor got more and more scared as they approached and she heard the vicious barking.
“Don’t be scared, brave warrior,” said Wangchuk. “I’m about to help your sister get back to Rome.”
Wangchuk lifted a wooden bar to open the doors. They all entered—and gasped. In front of them were eight incredibly large sled dogs, rising up from beds of hay. The dogs resembled Siberian huskies, but twice as big. Gigantic bowls filled with yak bones sat at their feet. Their mouths were big enough to consume each of the kids’ faces with one quick chomp. The dogs snarled and bit as Wangchuk walked deeper into the barn. They were kept at bay by harnesses, attached to metal posts driven deep into the ground.
“Meet the Batan sled dogs,” Wangchuk said.
“What’s a sled dog?” Felix asked. “Actually . . . what’s a sled?”
“It’s kind of like a chariot that’s got rails instead of wheels,” Cordelia explained. “But a sled isn’t as big as a chariot—”
“This one is,” said Wangchuk, pulling a tarp off a giant machine.
The sled was almost as tall as the barn, constructed of polished red wood, covered with ancient symbols. Two large chairs, upholstered with dark leather cushions, were attached to the top of it. It resembled the vehicle that Cinderel
la rode in to the ball before it turned into a pumpkin, only without the pumpkin parts.
“The Great Sled of the Buddha,” Wangchuk said. “It will take you where you need to go.”
Eleanor hugged her sister while Felix held back. He was afraid to say good-bye to Cordelia and Will, unsure of how permanent this parting would be.
“Good luck, Deal,” Eleanor said, holding her sister tight, squeezing her with not only her arms, but with each finger. “Bring Brendan back to us.”
“I will,” said Cordelia. “Love you.”
“Love you more,” said Eleanor.
Felix moved forward to hug Cordelia himself. To his surprise—and heart-stopping pleasure—Cordelia kissed him on the cheek.
“I thought you didn’t like me that way,” he said.
“Just because I don’t want to be your wife, Felix, doesn’t mean I can’t give you a kiss good-bye.”
Will rolled his eyes, but he gave Felix a hearty hug himself before he got into one of the sled’s massive chairs. Cordelia sat next to him, and they fastened a thick rope (an ancient version of a seat belt) around their waists.
Wangchuk, who held his hands closed to keep the dogs from barking, attached them to the sled’s chain with a rope as thick as his arm. Then all eight of the dogs rose to stand in two rows, widely spaced. Ahead, the monks had opened two huge doors that led out of the monastery. There was a straight path leading out of the dogs’ giant kennel and into the mountains.
“Remember!” Wangchuk said. “If the terrain gets too treacherous, these dogs have special powers.”
“What kind of powers?” Cordelia asked.
Wangchuk didn’t answer. Instead, he tossed two multicolored fur coats to Cordelia and Will. Cordelia caught hers and held it over the edge of the sled with two fingers.
“I don’t wear fur,” she said.
“It’s from dead frost beasts!”
Battle of the Beasts Page 21