The Monster in the Hollows

by Andrew Peterson

  As the crew took in sail and Podo steered the ship toward the wharf, Janner watched a sailor from the first Hollish ship leap to the dock and confer with an assembly of men and women gathered to greet him. More people appeared and lashed theEnramere to the dock. The ship thudded into place and stilled.

  Their voyage across the Dark Sea of Darkness had ended at last. The Kimeran crew cheered, and their joy spread to the crowd gathered ashore. People clapped and whooped and chattered.

  Everywhere Janner looked he saw Hollowsfolk. Men with rugged faces and bushy beards, women with long hair enflamed by the bright sunset, children peeking out from between the adults, all of them dressed in browns, deep greens, and blues, all of them smiling, all of them eager to see with their own eyes the return of their lost daughter. Podo watched Nia, and Nia looked out over her people with eyes that shone with tears.

  The crowd parted, and the biggest man Janner had ever seen moved to the front. He was dressed like the others, but his shoulders and huge arms were bare. Around his neck hung a golden chain with a glimmering red pendant. At the edges of his rusty beard were seven little braids, each beaded with a jewel of a different color. His nose was crooked in a way that made him more handsome, and his eyes were big and kind. He wasn’t old, but he wasn’t young, either—there was wisdom in the ruggedness of his face. Janner liked him immediately.

  When the man’s gaze settled on Nia, he froze. The two of them looked at each other without a word, and the crowd hushed.

  The man spoke quietly, but the wind carried his voice. “Nia.”

  Janner felt his mother stiffen, and after a pause she said, “Rudric. Rudric ban Yorna.” Her face softened. “You’re the Keeper?”

  “I am. And you,” he said as he bowed his head, “are the Queen of the Shining Isle. Long have I asked the Maker to protect you, wherever you were. Long have we kept our hillfires burning with the hope that this day would come.”

  The man’s face glowed in the last blush of dusk. He dropped to his knees, and like a great wave emanating outward, all the Hollowsfolk did likewise. Janner’s arms prickled at the sight of a thousand men and women bowing to his mother.

  Rudric stood and raised his voice. “Welcome, daughter of the Hollows!”

  The Hollowsfolk cheered and the men beat their chests with fists like sledgehammers.

  Rudric held up a hand to silence them as he looked past Nia at the ship’s crew. “Podo Helmer, is that you?”

  “Aye,” said Podo. He nodded at Rudric and stepped forward. “You’re even bigger than you used to be, lad.”

  “And you’re as terrifying as ever.”

  “Is yer father well?”

  “As well as can be for an old fighter.” Rudric smiled and raised an eyebrow. “He still swears he can’t smell properly out of his left nose hole because of you.”

  “Served him right,” said Podo with a chuckle.

  Rudric’s eyes fell on Janner. “I don’t have to ask if this is Esben’s son.”

  Janner blushed and looked at his feet. None of his wounds hurt now.

  “It is,” Nia said. “My eldest. Janner Wingfeather.”

  “A Throne Warden, then?” Rudric said with an approving nod. “And this young beauty is the Song Maiden?”

  “Yes, sir,” Leeli said with a curtsy. “My name is Leeli Wingfeather and I’m nine.”

  Rudric laughed. “An honor to meet you, Leeli. The Green Hollows is a land of music. May your songs fill the vineyards and valleys in the days to come.” Rudric looked the ship over again and asked, “What about the third?”

  “Janner, where’s Kalmar?” Nia asked.

  “He’s belowdecks with Uncle Artham—“

  “Artham? Artham Wingfeather is here?” asked Rudric, shocked.

  “Yes, I’m here.” Artham emerged from the hold and stepped to the rail. He had draped a canvas over his shoulders and wings, and clutched it at his chest in a way that also concealed his talons. The crowd gasped and many whispers filled the air as word spread along the boardwalk and into the streets that Artham Wingfeather was present.

  Rudric bowed his head again, and though he was taller and broader than Artham, his eyes twinkled like a boy’s in the Throne Warden’s presence. “Welcome, sir. And the young king is here, too?” Nia nodded, and Rudric shook his head in wonder. “All these years we feared that the last of Anniera had died. Yet here on a single ship its light shines.”

  The Keeper and his people stood reverently before theEnramereand its passengers for a moment, then Rudric spoke again. “What am I thinking? You must be sick of that ship. Come and put your feet on steady ground again. All of you. As Keeper of the Hollows I welcome you to Ban Rona, where no evil dwells, no ridgerunner thieves, and no Fang treads. My home—” he looked at Nia “—andyour home.”

  “Thank you, Rudric.” Nia gave him a smile, but it vanished as quickly as it had come. “Keeper, the youngest son of Esben has seen terrible things. I beg you to treat him with kindness. Janner, go fetch your brother. Let’s get this over with.”

  Janner limped down the stairs into the dark hold to find Kalmar. “Kal?” he called.

  “I don’t want to go,” Kalmar said in a small voice from somewhere in the corner.

  “It’s beautiful. You should see it. They can hardly believe we’re here. I can hardly believe it myself. There’s not a Fang in sight.”

  Kalmar was silent.

  The silence filled the hold until Janner realized what he had said. “You’ll be fine, Kal. Mama’s like a queen to them. And you’re—you’re the High King of Anniera. It doesn’t matter how furry you are.”

  “They’re going to stare at me. And they’ll know.”

  “They’ll know what?”

  “They’ll know how weak I was.”

  Janner made his way through the darkness and stood before his little brother, trying to ignore the return of the throbbing in his legs and back. All Janner could see of Kalmar was the glint of his eyes. “But you’re the king. And I’m your warden. You can’t stay in the dark down here forever.”

  Janner took Kalmar’s clammy, furry hand in his and pulled him toward the door. Kalmar took a deep breath when they reached the foot of the stairs, ashamed, Janner knew, of his gray fur and pointed ears and black nose, ashamed of the wolfish badge of failure he bore.

  When the boys emerged from the hold, Rudric was nodding his greetings to Oskar, then to Errol the first mate, so the two brothers stood at the top of the steps for a moment unnoticed by anyone on the pier.

  Then the air was split by a Hollish woman’s shriek. Rudric broke off the conversation and looked around for the source of the commotion. When he spotted Kalmar with his arm around Janner, his confusion turned to shock. Someone screamed, “FANG!”

  Men and women surged onto the ship, shoved the Kimeran crew aside, and lunged at Kalmar, who snarled and bared his teeth. Artham, Nia, Podo, and the Kimerans were stunned. Kalmar crouched like a dog about to pounce.

  “Kalmar, no!” Janner screamed, and Kalmar’s face quivered and his growl turned into a howl of anguish. He looked at Janner with unbearable sadness and curled into a ball at Janner’s feet.

  Janner had time to fall over his little brother to shield him as the Hollowsfolk seized them both. He wrapped his arms around Kalmar and gritted his teeth against the pain in his legs and back, clinging to his brother amidst screams of “Fang!” and “monster!” until Kalmar was torn from his embrace.

  7

  A Fang in Ban Rona

  As they dragged Kalmar away, Janner saw the Hollowsfolk kicking him and pummeling him with their fists. Leeli screamed and Artham screeched his name as the little wolf stretched out his hand toward Nia and Podo. They struggled against the onrush of Hollowsfolk, shocked by the violence of the crowd’s reaction. Nia beat at a Hollish man who held her back as she screamed for order, but no one listened. Janner fought to push through the crowd, but it was too thick and too angry. One of the men grabbed Janner by the arm and held him fast. Cut
ting through all the noise was the heartbreaking sound of Kalmar, yelping like a hurt puppy.

  Janner could hardly believe that these same people had been cheering their arrival only moments before. Their faces, once so bright with welcome, were now dark with anger.

  Another sound thundered out and cut through the chaos at last. Janner saw movement from the corner of his eye and looked in time to see Rudric leap onto theEnramere’s deck. He swung a warhammer with all his might and struck the mainmast so hard that the whole ship shook.

  “I said STOP!” Rudric bellowed.

  And they did.

  Rudric’s face was red and his eyes burned. He held the hammer in one hand and clenched the other into a fist. His chest was thrust out, and the front of his tunic looked ready to rip open. “If you would contend with Rudric ban Yorna, then so be it! Riot away.” He glared at the crowd and bared his teeth, daring anyone to challenge him.

  The mainmast creaked and groaned, then splintered where Rudric’s hammer had struck it. It groaned again and toppled over the starboard side, pulling timber, sail, and line into the sea, leaving only a stump where Rudric stood.

  “Unhand the beast and let the Queen of Anniera speak!” Rudric bellowed. “Olliver, release her!”

  Nia jerked her arms away from the man and rushed to Kalmar’s side.

  One by one the Hollowsfolk backed away until only one man remained. He stood with his foot on Kalmar’s back and held a sword over his head. “It’s a Fang, Rudric,” the man spat. “Would you have it loose in the Hollows?”

  “If the Queen of Anniera has something to say in the matter, I think you’d best hear it before she tears you to pieces, Bunge.”

  The man glanced at the crowd, then down at Kalmar, then finally at Nia. She rose and stood nose-to-nose with the man, fierce and defiant. Bunge lowered his sword and stepped aside.

  “Queen or not, it is no small thing to bring a Grey Fang to our shores.” Rudric lowered his warhammer and looked intently at Nia. “Do you understand?”

  “I do.”

  “Then I ask you, not as your old friend, but as the Keeper of the Hollows, why have you done it?”

  “Because—” Nia’s voice caught in her throat. She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. “Because he’s my son.”

  The crowd gasped. Even Rudric was shaken. He looked at Kalmar, who hunkered at Nia’s feet, whimpering.

  “This is the son of Esben Wingfeather?”

  Nia wiped a tear from her cheek, as if irritated it was there. She looked as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t.

  Rudric approached her and lowered his voice. “I’m sorry, Nia. But I’m the Keeper now. We have to deal with this in the council.” He clenched his jaw and turned to the man called Bunge. “Don’t hurt it. Take it to the dungeon.”

  When Bunge moved toward Kalmar, Artham stepped forward and stood between them.

  Nia put a hand on his shoulder. “Artham, don’t. My people have their ways. If we’re going to make a home here, we have to do this by their rules. We can’t keep running. We have nowhere else to go.”

  Artham hesitated, then knelt and whispered something in Kalmar’s ear and moved away. Artham could have flung off the canvas, spread his wings, and sent the Hollowsfolk scampering if he wanted. He could have gathered Kalmar up and flown to safety. Janner wanted to act, but if Artham was unwilling to stop Kalmar’s arrest, then he must have a good reason.

  Nia knelt and looked Kalmar in the eye. “Everything’s going to be all right. One way or another, we’ll come for you tomorrow. Understand?”

  Kalmar nodded. Nia kissed his head, then Rudric gave a signal and Bunge jerked Kalmar to his feet.

  “Bunge!” Rudric snapped. “Don’t hurt it.”

  Bunge scowled but bowed his head stiffly to Rudric. A Hollish sailor tied Kalmar’s arms behind him, then they led him away.

  Rudric slid his warhammer back into the loop on his belt. “Nia, I know you’re angry and you don’t want to trust me right now. I’ll make sure he’s fed and well treated. The Hollows is still a place of welcome—”

  “Spare us your talk,” Podo said, stepping forward. “If ye have a place for me family and me crew, we’ll take it with gratitude. But now’s not the time for words. The only thing we have to talk about is when we’re going to get young Kalmar back.”

  Rudric looked from Podo to Nia and back again, then nodded. “Danniby here will show you and your men to your lodgings. I’ll send someone to fetch you in the morning once I’ve gathered the seven chiefs. Then we’ll discuss the Fang.” Rudric turned to Podo and the Kimerans. “Sorry about the mainmast.”

  He strode away.

  ***

  When the crowd dispersed, a slight, bearded Hollish fellow (Janner soon learned they all had beards) in a black cape stepped forward and cleared his throat.

  “Greetings. They call me Danniby. If you’ll follow me you’ll find some beds, berries, and bibes.”

  “Bibes?” Leeli asked.

  “Aye, bibes. Short for imbibes, I suppose. Stuff good for drinking, that is, like ciders, juices, milk of goat, that sort of thing. Anyone like a hot meal and a bibe?”

  After some confusion, everyone on the ship raised a hand. Janner saw the worry on Nia’s face, but Rudric’s assurance eased the tension they all felt. Even with Kalmar in the dungeon it was hard not to look forward to a regular bed and a good meal.

  “Bibes it is, then,” Danniby said. “Come with me.”

  The Kimerans debarked in single file, many of them pausing when they reached the dock to kiss the planks and thank the Maker for a safe voyage.

  “We’ve got berry bibes, grape bibes, apple bibes, and cherry bibes. You name the fruit, we’ve likely got a bibe for it,” Danniby said as he led the Kimerans away.

  “Good men, those Kimerans,” Podo said. “Left their homes in Skree just to get us here safe and strong. I hope they sleep well.”

  “Aye,” said Oskar, trying to sound like a sailor again. “In the words of Boyg McKrowlin, ‘Good gravy! They’ve earned it.’ And so have I, if I say so myself. Standing around on this old broken ship isn’t going to free Kalmar any sooner. Highness?”

  Nia tried to smile. “You’re right. It’s time you children ate something other than glipperfish and old oats.”

  “I like that man,” Leeli said.

  “Rudric?” Janner asked.

  “Yes, the big one. I don’t think he wants anything bad to happen to Kalmar.”

  “I’ve known Rudric since we were children,” said Nia, “and I think I know his heart. This will be sorted out soon.”

  “I’d bet my bibes on it,” Podo said. “Now you all run along.”

  “You aren’t coming?” Artham asked as he adjusted the canvas over his wings.

  “I’d like to stay here for a spell,” Podo said, gazing out at the dark horizon beyond the mouth of the harbor. “It’s my last chance to feel a boat rocking beneath me feet. I half wish I’d been knocked overboard by one of them stones, to tell the truth. Not only would I have deserved it, my last breath would have been seawater. That’s how a sailor ought to go.”

  Janner watched Podo’s back, wondering what was going on in his stormy old heart. All those years in Glipwood, Podo avoided the cliffs, avoided ever looking out over the Dark Sea, especially on Dragon Day. Ban Rona was a seaside town, where Podo would be reminded with every lift of the breeze that he was banned from the waters he so loved. Now that Janner had seen him sail, it was hard to imagine him happy on land.

  “Papa, you’re not just a sailor.” Nia put her hand on his back. “You’re a father and a grandfather, and there’s plenty of life yet to live. Say your goodbyes and come with your family. We need you.”

  “Please, Grandpa,” said Leeli.

  Podo pulled his eyes from the waters, his bushy eyebrows trembling with emotion. Finally, he stepped away from the broken mast, picked up his legbone from where it lay on the deck, and let Leeli lead him down the plank to the dock.


  At the last step, he paused and looked down into the black waters lapping at the hull. “There you have it, dragons,” he said. “Scale Raker will trouble yer waters no more. I thank thee for safe passage.”

  When Podo stepped from the plank to the pier, the center of the harbor bubbled, and out of the sea rose a dark mass of serpentine shapes. They swayed and rumbled and roiled the waters, till Yurgen, the oldest one, flung open his jaws and roared. The torches on the pier sputtered in the wind of the dragon’s bellow, and Podo froze with his back to the sea, eyes closed and head low.

  Leeli was frantic. She took his hand in both of hers and pulled, dropping her crutch and hopping on one foot. Podo finally took another step, then another, each one bringing him closer to solid ground and farther from the Dark Sea.

  When at last Podo stepped from the pier to the cobbled street of Ban Rona, the dragons disappeared as quickly as they had come.

  Podo took a deep breath, smiled down at Leeli, and said, “Now, then. Let’s have some bibes. Me drinker is dry and me eater is empty. Which way did that Danniby fella go?”

  8

  The Orchard Inn and Cookery

  It took Janner a while to realize what was so strange about Ban Rona.

  As they walked the clean streets of the city, they passed wagons and clusters of people walking in conversation. Many of the houses boasted gardens in the front so that one had to pass between bright flowers and totatoes on the vine to reach the front steps. Men and women sat outside on benches, puffing pipes or munching on grapes, laughing in the cool of the night.

  And every house, Janner noticed, had a dog. Not just a dog, but abig dog. He could see their tails waving like flags in the windows. He saw them curled up on the landings and chasing sticks, dogs of different colors and breeds, but all of them at least twice as big as Nugget had been—before the water from the First Well, anyway. More than once, one of the dogs padded out to greet Leeli as she passed, as if they sensed in her a great store of affection with nowhere else to go.