Chapter Eighteen
The villagers crowded them, circling, pressing, menacing—not even the sight of a Korahku halted them. They had armed themselves with knives and forks, broken pipes, pickaxes, anything close at hand.
Bo backed up, a whimper caught in his throat.
“Stop!” Tam pushed to the front, brandishing Ironclaw—a thick, black mallet. “Let the children go. If you want someone to fight, fight me.”
The Innkeeper faltered, his eyes narrowing at the Korahku’s weapon. “You can’t fight all of us,” he said, but his voice trembled with uncertainty.
“I will be happy to teach just you a lesson,” said Tam before swinging Ironclaw in a wide arc. The end of the weapon burst open and out shot a mass of metal whips, which snaked around the Innkeeper’s arms and legs and belly and neck.
The Innkeeper fell to the floor, writhing. “Get it off me!” But the metal whips squeezed tighter the more he struggled. “Help me!”
The crowd backed away with gasps and wild eyes.
“Truly the weapon of a Devil!”
“Such evil!”
“Let them go before they kill us all!”
But as the terrified crowd parted, something unexpected filled the gap.
Out of the shadows emerged a creature. It was all claws and teeth and spikes and Darkness, like a deadly shadow come to life. It prowled into the Light, gnashing its teeth, growling and dragging its claws along the flagstones of the hall.
Bo had never seen anything like it. But he had heard those scratching, scraping sounds before.
“A Shadow Creature,” he gasped. All the blood rushed from his face. He felt as if Ironclaw’s metallic tendrils had wrapped around his throat, squeezing tightly.
Screams filled the air as the crowd fled, pushing and trampling one another, fighting to escape. But the creature only had eyes for Bo and his friends.
“Stay behind me,” said Tam. She pushed Bo, Selene, and Nix back.
As the Shadow Creature reached the Innkeeper, writhing on the floor, tangled in the metallic whips, it opened a cavernous mouth and swallowed the screaming Irin whole, yanking Ironclaw out of Tam’s hand and swallowing the weapon, too.
Bo turned away, sick to his stomach. How was this even possible? A Shadow Creature moving through the Light?
With a bone-shattering roar, the creature pounced, its mouth gaping, its claws slashing. Tam ducked and kicked out her talons. A forked tail slashed at Selene and Bo. Selene screamed, flinging out both hands in defense.
Light exploded from her palms, lightning bolts that sizzled against the Shadow Creature’s skin. The creature howled as it fell back—thump!—onto the stone floor.
Selene looked to Bo. “I didn’t . . . I don’t . . .”
The creature pounced again, this time breathing fire—only it wasn’t like any fire Bo had ever seen. It was pitch-black and noxious, and it sucked up all the surrounding Light. Selene screamed and threw her hands up; a shower of icy shards rained from her palms, shooting through the air. They cut the black flames into pieces, into small sparks that smoked and fizzled and floated to the floor as ash.
The creature breathed more noxious black fire, but—boom!—Selene pushed out her hands and a wall of ice shot forward, knocking the creature backwards. Before it could stand again, Selene thrust out her hands, one after the other, and knives of ice hurtled across the room, piercing the creature again and again and again until it collapsed on the floor, shrinking until all that was left was a wisp of smoke and a dusting of ashes.
Bo rushed to her side. “Are you okay?”
“I can’t believe I did that,” said Selene, eyes wide, breathing hard.
“You’re going to make a brilliant Queen’s guard,” said Bo.
Selene frowned at her hands, biting her lip in worry.
“Certainly she will,” said Tam, a hand on each of their shoulders. “But perhaps it is best we do not linger while more Shadow Creatures arrive.”
They sprinted through the Great Hall and onto the landing outside the temple. Bo gasped—he could see for miles and . . . his stomach lurched.
The tree sickness had spread, like a giant black claw stretching from west to east. The forests were crumbling to ash and dying. It had reached below the Temple City: the trees surrounding the mountain and the vast inland sea were blackened and decaying.
“Quickly,” urged Tam. “Galvin is at the water’s edge, readying a boat. See?”
Tam pointed and Bo saw a tiny speck pushing a boat out to sea.
Bo let himself be dragged down the zigzagging stairs, his head tangled up with worry.
He understood what was killing the trees now.
It was magic—wild, malignant, unbalanced magic—spreading through the land. If he didn’t find the Stars soon, it wouldn’t matter. There would be no Ulv for him to save. They had to reach Galvin; they had to get those keys back.
At the base of the mountain, Selene led them along a rocky path and into the forest of inky, clawlike trees. Ash was so thick in the air, Bo could not stop coughing. Nix sneezed, too.
When they emerged on the other side of the forest, there was an endless gray-green sea before them. A scattering of stone huts littered the sea’s edge, all abandoned, weather-worn and crumbling. They hurried through the empty village, Selene leading them to a small beach where a rickety old boat was tethered.
“We’ll take this,” she said, grabbing the rope to untie the boat.
In the distance, Bo could see Galvin heading south. Bo shrank back as the water lapped at his toes; it felt strangely thick and syrupy.
“There is a Nev’en village on the other side,” said Selene. “It is abandoned but it will be a place to stay for the Dark. It will take us most of the day to cross the sea.”
A low mist curled atop the rippling water like tendrils. Behind Bo, an owl hooted mournfully. It made Bo shudder.
“This place,” he said, “is creepy.”
Nix whined, scratching the sand nervously with his paws.
Selene’s gaze flicked toward the decaying trees. “It never used to be,” she said.
She untied the rope. Bo picked up Nix and they climbed in, Selene behind them. Tam sloshed into the water and pushed the boat out a short way, then jumped in too. She tried to take the oars but Selene snapped them out of reach. “What does a Korahku know about water?”
“Ah,” said Tam, with a wry click of her beak. “Right you are.”
Bo glanced back at the shore and saw a tawny owl on the roof of a crumbling hut. The owl blinked at him, tilted its head, and took flight, swooping into the air toward the mountain. Bo turned away, tugging his cloak tightly around him.
Soon they were surrounded by the sea. In the mist it felt as though there was nothing behind them and nothing in front; Bo couldn’t see Galvin anymore. The only sound was the gentle slip-slosh of the oars gliding through the water.
Bo looked down at his hands clasped in his lap, fingers so tightly laced his knuckles were white. Galvin had stolen the keys, and the Shadow Creatures were so powerful they could attack at any moment. Even during the Light.
“It’s not fair,” Bo snapped. The small spark of anger in his heart had grown into wild flames that lashed the back of his throat. “I lost both keys and—”
“It’s not your fault Galvin is a no-good, dishonest gillywacker,” said Selene.
Bo shook his head. “No, but it is my fault that magic is returning and the Shadow Creatures are growing so powerful.”
Tam clicked her beak. “Nonsense.”
“It’s true,” Bo insisted. “It was just like the Scribe said. Magic was locked in a tree—great ugly ancient thing—and I was supposed to tend to it only I didn’t because I was too busy wishing I could play with the village children and the lock broke and magic returned and . . .” He unclasped his hands and banged his fist on the side of the boat. “Mads never told me it was a spell. He should have told me! I know what I did was wrong but I never would have done it if
I’d known. Why didn’t he trust me? Why did he lie to me?” His chest was heaving. He didn’t think it possible that he would ever stop feeling guilty, but the anger was all-consuming. “He needed me for his spell but he never wanted me. He never . . .”
Why does no one ever want me?
Nix crawled into his lap, as if reading Bo’s mind and wanting to prove him wrong. Bo hugged him.
“Do you know why I was locked in the Fuglebur in your village?” said Tam suddenly.
Confused by her change of subject, Bo met her eyes and shook his head.
Tam hesitated, caught halfway between turning to face Bo and looking out across the sea. She gripped the side of the boat tightly.
“I was second in line to the Korak throne, behind my sister, Runa. Runa was fierce, loyal, smart, and commanded great respect. But that did not prevent me from resenting her, from wishing it was me who was heir, me who our father, King Saros, loved most.” She bowed her head, shoulders curled forward. “My sister adored me; she looked up to me and would do anything I said. But I was her personal bodyguard, too. ‘Protect the future queen,’ my father would tell me. ‘Her life is worth more than yours.’ I would perch awake at night with those words haunting me. Why was Runa’s life worth more than mine? Why was I not enough? But I still took a blood oath to protect her; I promised to always protect her life above my own.”
For a long moment the Korahku did not speak—the only sound was the hitch of her breath. The mist swirled, rising up to run cold tendrils along Bo’s forearm. Were these ghosts too? Bo hugged Nix even tighter.
“There had been talk of Irin soldiers gathering on our western border. I wanted to fight them but my father told me to stay away; he did not say why. ‘You do not need to know these things, Tamira,’ he told me, ‘for you are merely a soldier.’ I was so angry at his words. I was always looking for ways to prove myself, to prove how strong I was and what a better queen I would make. So I disobeyed my father and convinced my sister to come with me—I did not tell her it was against our father’s wishes.
“When we reached the western border, I learned why my father had wished us to stay away. When we first attacked, there was a handful of soldiers but we were quickly ambushed by hundreds more—it had been a trap. My father had seen this coming, but I had not.”
Bo wondered if Tam had finished—the Korahku stayed silent for so long, head bent and breath rasping. Finally, Tam drew herself together and sat up straight; she did not meet anyone’s eye.
“They killed my sister, but I escaped,” she said. “I could never return to my flock for the shame, so I roamed the land looking for revenge. I thought: If I am angry at others, then I will not be angry at myself. But I was reckless and was captured near your village and strung up in the Fuglebur.
“And then you came along and I realized I did not need revenge for my sister—I needed to make amends for myself. I could save you. Perhaps I could forgive myself if I could save one life.”
Tam finally looked at Bo. “I understand guilt and I understand wanting to make amends for your actions. So, I will protect you, little Irin, and I will help you fix this. That will be my amends. Finding the Stars, that will be yours.”
Bo didn’t realize he had been crying until Nix sniffed at his damp cheeks, his pink tongue darting out to lick the tears. Bo pushed him away gently. “That’s disgusting, Nix,” he mumbled, and then wiped his face clear with the sleeves of his shirt. He wanted more than anything to hug the Korahku and tell her everything would be all right, that it wasn’t her fault—her father should have told her, should have trusted her. But Bo knew words would never be enough, not when it came to this.
“And I’ll help,” said Selene, breathless and eager. “I’ll help you get the keys back and find the Stars and then I’m going to find my mother and father in the capital and I’ll join the Queen’s Guard. My parents will be so happy to see me—they’ll wish they never left me with the Sisters. You could come too, Bo. You’ll join the Guard and together we’ll be the Queen’s favorites.”
“Don’t think I’d make much of a guard,” said Bo. In truth, he didn’t know what he would do after they found the Stars—if they found them. Now that he knew Mads had lied to him, he wasn’t sure if he’d fit into his old life anymore. Or maybe it didn’t fit him—did he even have an old life to return to? The forest was destroyed, the village empty and . . . Just thinking about it made his skin prickle.
He took a deep breath. “So how do we find Galvin and get the keys back?” he said. “We’ve lost sight of him.”
“The easiest way,” said Selene, “is to work out the answer to the riddle and make for the third key—that’s where he’ll be headed, won’t he? What was it again? ‘I run but do not walk. I have a mouth but do not talk. I have a head but never weep. I have a bed but never sleep.’ What does that mean?”
As Tam and Selene struggled to untangle the riddle, Bo frowned to himself, staring into the gray-green depths of the sea. If only he hadn’t lost the keys to Galvin, if only he had been smarter, braver, quicker.
“A hurdigkat is the fastest animal in Ulv,” said Selene. “They’re always dashing about, so you could say they run but never walk. And I don’t think they talk much.”
Tam shook her head. “It is unlikely to be an animal. It will be a place like the first two keys: the Un-King’s palace and the Temple of the Silent Sisters.”
“But what kind of place has a mouth? And can run?”
Bo swallowed the lump in his throat and hugged Nix tightly to his chest. He tried to listen to the conversation around him but his mind was swirling with too many warring thoughts.
What if I can’t do it? he asked himself. What if I can’t release the Stars?
The thought was like tree sap. Tacky, syrupy, sticky, stuck to the roof of his mouth, where no tongue prodding and picking was ever going to set it free. He shook his head and looked up, scowling at the Dark cloud that had gathered on the horizon.
I have to find the Stars. I have to prove everyone wrong about me.The villagers, Mads, even my mother.
All of them had treated him like a mud-myg in their pompapple juice. And he was tired of it. Tired of being tossed aside, blamed, ignored, teased, lied to.
He let the angry flames warm him, let them chase back his fears, his worries, his lingering guilt. In a strange way, the anger was a comfort. It made his resolve to find the Stars stronger. So he let it grow.
And grow and grow and grow.
Chapter Nineteen
As they neared the shore, Tam jumped out, the water lapping up to her knees. She pulled the boat through the shallows and onto a beach with large gray pebbles.
A tangle of trees grew close to the water’s edge—knobby olive-green trees with bulbous trunks and thick crowns. Bo heaved a sigh of relief at how alive they looked; thankfully, the sickness hadn’t reached them yet. But they were completely still—not a leaf fluttered. Perhaps they were holding their breath, waiting for the sickness to come.
Bo scooped up Nix and plonked him on the shore, where the little fox ran in circles, barking loudly.
“It was my first time in a boat too, but you don’t hear me complaining,” said Bo. He did feel sick but he was certain it had little to do with the choppy water.
While Tam and Selene were bickering about which way Galvin might have gone, Bo wandered toward one of the trees and pressed his palm against the bark. It was cool and rough and thrumming with life. Late-afternoon Light flickered through the canopy and cast mottled shadows against the back of his hand. The Light, the air, the trees, all of it reminded him so much of home.
He traced patterns against the bark and closed his eyes, trying to picture himself back in the Forest of Long Shadows. The image sat uncomfortably in his mind, like a troll trying to balance on the head of a needle.
“You’re not listening to me!” Selene poked Bo in the arm.
He opened his eyes to Selene scowling at him. “Sorry, I was . . . What did you say?”
&
nbsp; She rolled her eyes. “Come on, the village where we’ll stay is this way,” she said, turning to where Tam was waiting for them. “Honestly, what sort of manners do they teach in Irin?” she muttered. “Didn’t your mother tell you it was rude to ignore people? I was calling you for ages.”
Her words were a punch to his gut. She didn’t mean it that way but it didn’t stop the pain. “My mother abandoned me in the forest when I was a baby,” said Bo with nonchalance he didn’t feel. “So, she didn’t teach me any manners.”
Selene’s eyes grew wide, her footsteps stuttering to a halt. “Abandoned you?”
Bo looked away and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. She left a note. She didn’t . . . she didn’t want me and . . . it’s fine. I don’t even care.” The lie tasted bitter. He did care. He cared more than he’d ever realized. He didn’t know why his mother had abandoned him—was she as fickle as the Moon or was it something else?—but it hurt nonetheless. It was the kind of hurt that blanketed him like the Myling Mist, until it was impossible to see anything else, to feel anything else.
Perhaps that was why he was so angry with Mads. It wasn’t just the lie about the spell; it was the realization that the old man had never wanted him, which had forced Bo to acknowledge that his mother hadn’t wanted him either. She wasn’t waiting for him to run into her arms like Mads had shown him in the vision. That felt like a silly dream now. It felt like another lie.
And even if he wished for a mother who wanted him, it would always feel like a lie.
Selene brushed her hand against his forearm. “That’s horrible. That’s really mean.”
Bo cleared his throat, picking at a nearby leaf, relishing how supple it felt between his fingertips. “When your mother—”
“My mother is the captain of the Queen’s Guard,” snapped Selene with her chin lifted. “She is too busy and important to leave her post. The Queen simply cannot live without her. That’s the only reason she left me with the Sisters. But when I help you release the Stars, she’ll see that I can be a guard too and then we’ll never have to be apart again.”
The Boy, the Wolf, and the Stars Page 16