“Eek!” Oki cried. “Who said that?”
“Why, it was me,” came the voice again, and now they found themselves staring up into a face of stone that had appeared in the wall.
“Who are you?” Kendra asked.
“Why, I am the gate to Ireshook,” the face replied, his features rippling in the rock. “It says so right here above my brow. Can’t you read?”
Kendra looked way up and indeed could now see some lettering chipped into stone above the gate’s face.
“Well, I can’t read very well,” Jinx snapped, retrieving her poker, which was now slightly bent. “The professor has been trying to teach me, but he’s a hard person to spend any amount of time with. I prefer to polish my weapons.”
“Indeed— I imagine they would need a lot of polish if you go throwing them at hapless doorways so often,” the gate remarked with a slight sniff.
“I had no idea you would actually feel anything,” Jinx offered in apology.
“You are no better than one of those Ungers and such,” the gateway admonished. “Those monsters always think they can just hammer their way through me. Fools! I’m an enchanted gate, of course, built to protect Ireshook from thugs and ruffians. All the violence in the world will do you no good here.”
“Then how may we pass?” Kendra asked, fiddling with one of her braids.
“Why, you must use your intellect,” the gate replied cheerfully. “Which means you must answer my riddles. There are three of you, so that means three riddles.”
“This is just like the door in the castle of Krodos,” Oki said. “Except he asked just one riddle.”
“Did you say Krodos?” the gateway asked with curiosity. “Why, the riddle door there is my cousin.”
“Your cousin!” Kendra exclaimed. “How can a door have a cousin?”
“We were built in the same workshop,” the gateway replied. “Old Yanu the Dwarf built us. That was hundreds of years ago, but I remember it as clearly as yesterday. My cousin complained without end as Yanu chipped and chiseled him into existence.”
“That door did seem to have a rather nasty demeanor,” Oki recalled.
“Yes, my mother said it was because he had a vein of gold streaking through him,” the gateway said.
“So he was rather vain then?” Oki asked.
“Vain? Oh, I see your pun!” the door said. “He was vain because of the vein! Quite clever! Hee hee . . . ho ho . . . ha ha!” The gateway laughed so hard that grains of sand trickled from his granite eyes.
“Ratchet would be very proud of me,” Oki beamed.
“Yes, you’re a real wit,” Jinx muttered. “Well, come on, gate, give us your riddles.”
“Very well,” the gateway said, after recovering from his bout of laughter. He cleared his rocky throat and declared:
I can ban the brightest light,
Protect you from the cold of night.
Your only mission is to draw me,
But not with lead, or ink, or artistry.
What am I?
“Oh dear,” Oki murmured with a twitch of his little nose. “That’s a tricky one.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but I wish Bumblebean was here,” Jinx declared. “He’s the one who solved our last riddle.”
“We’ll just have to do it without him,” Kendra said. “Let’s think it through. What can you draw with, if not ink or lead?”
“How about chalk?” asked Oki.
“No, the riddle says no ‘artistry,’” Kendra replied. “So how can you draw without art?”
Jinx sighed and sat alongside Oki. “This is going to take a while,” she muttered.
They sat there for several minutes, pitching out ideas, but nothing seemed to catch root. As for the riddle gate, it waited on patiently, offering no further advice or clues.
After several minutes, Jinx threw up her many arms in frustration. “Don’t ask me anymore!” the grasshopper uttered. “I’m no artist! The only thing I’ve ever drawn is a curtain!”
“That’s it, Jinx!” Oki cried, hopping to his feet. “Why, you’re brilliant! The answer, Mr. Riddle Gate, is curtain. You draw a curtain to close it, and it blocks out the light and cold.”
“Well done,” the gate commended. “Now, here’s your second riddle.” Once again he cleared his throat and proclaimed:
I’m a creature that will lick and feed,
Devouring all with ferocious speed.
The air about me grants me life,
Yet water harms me, brings me strife.
What am I?
This riddle caused the three friends even greater difficulty. They set about discussing different mythical beasts they had heard about in old Een legends, but no ideas came to them. As the sun started to wane in the late autumn afternoon, so did their spirits. It soon grew so cold on the little path that Jinx decided to build a small campfire.
“After all,” she said, “we might be here into the night.”
“Oh no—you’ll have to solve all three riddles by sundown,” the riddle gate warned them. “There’s a time limit to these things. If you don’t finish in time, you’ll just have to start all over again in the morning.”
“That information would have been a little bit more helpful from the start,” Jinx retorted.
“Sorry, I was a little flustered from being attacked by your poker,” the riddle gate sniffled.
“Come on,” Kendra said, anxiously tugging a braid. “Let’s just get to thinking!”
Jinx soon coaxed the campfire to life, and Kendra and Oki eagerly gathered round the orange flames to relish the heat.
“Not too close,” Kendra warned Oki. “Those flames will have your whiskers for dinner!”
Oki whirled around and gasped. “Kendra! You’ve solved the second riddle!”
“I have?”
“Don’t you see?” Oki asked. “The answer is fire.”
“Very good,” the riddle gate praised. “Now you have but one riddle left to solve.” The gate thought for a moment and then announced:
I am cooked from grains of earth,
Yet to eat me will bring no mirth.
Break me, you can, but bend me not;
Leave me in the sun, but I will never rot.
What am I?
“They’re getting harder and harder,” Jinx groaned.
She plopped down by the fire and rested her chin on one of her hands. For a third time, the three friends began tossing out possible answers to the riddle.
“If you can cook it, you should be able to eat it,” Jinx said.
“But it says to eat it will bring no mirth,” Oki said. “So maybe whatever it is just tastes bad.”
“Like what?” Kendra asked.
“Turnips,” Oki suggested. “I hate turnips!”
“Turnips will rot in the sun,” Kendra replied. “All vegetables will. Ugh! We’re getting nowhere!”
An hour or so passed, and the sun began to set, but still no answers came to them. Kendra tugged on her braids, but even tugging didn’t seem to help. Her mind just would not quiet down. To make matters worse, she could feel the shard beating restlessly within her pouch. She tried to ignore it, but then a voice inside her mind said, Come on, sorceress, you can just use the shard to cut a hole right through that wretched gate. Don’t worry about riddles and such nonsense!
Kendra shook her head, trying to chase away the voice. As desperate as she was to reach Ireshook, the last thing she wanted to do was destroy the gate. After all, they were only one answer away from reaching the other side.
“How much time do you think there is until sundown?” Kendra asked her friends.
“Half hour at best,” Jinx replied.
“Eek—we’re running out of time,” Oki fretted.
Just use the shard! the voice inside Kendra’s mind said.
Again Kendra shook her head. At last, she removed her pouch from her belt and tossed it to the side; at once, the voice faded.
“That’s better,” she mur
mured.
“What’s that?” Jinx asked pointedly.
“Oh . . . er, nothing,” Kendra replied. She leaned back, stared up into the darkening sky, and tried to concentrate. Her mind was still aflutter, but then her hand happened to brush against her wand, which was still tucked in her belt, and she felt a tiny tingle of tranquility. “Hmmm,” Kendra murmured. She pulled out the tiny wand and gripped it in both hands. She closed her eyes, exhaled, and suddenly felt a sense of calm wash over her. Can my wand really help me solve this riddle? she wondered.
Kendra wasn’t sure, but the Eenwood had definitely helped clear her mind. So she breathed deeply and let her mind unravel. Clutching her wand, she soon fell into a dreamlike vision. She was standing at the shore of the sea. The water was washing up against her bare legs. She could hear the gentle wash of the surf, smell the salt of the sea, and . . . she could feel the sand squish between her toes.
Kendra suddenly opened her eyes. “It’s glass,” she declared. “The answer is glass.”
“Glass?” Jinx asked. “Are you sure?”
“She’s right,” Oki piped. “You make glass by melting sand. You can’t eat it, of course! You can shatter it, but it won’t bend. And it won’t rot.”
Jinx turned and looked at the riddle gate. “Well?” the grasshopper asked.
“You have answered all three riddles correctly,” the gate confirmed. “Congratulations, now you may pass.”
At once there was a shifting of rock, and amidst a cloud of soft dust, the gateway rumbled open. Quickly, Kendra and her friends stamped out their fire, gathered up their belongings, and hurried through the gate. They could now see the path twisting and turning down the rocky ridge towards the flickering lights of Ireshook.
“Thank goodness,” Oki declared. “You know, all this time I still haven’t been able to shake the feeling that someone is following us.”
“Well, the door will close behind us, so they won’t any longer,” Jinx said.
“Nothing’s going to stop us now,” Kendra declared. She patted her wand, tucked safely back in her belt, and smiled in the darkness. For the first time in weeks she felt triumphant. Maybe, just maybe, she thought, there’s some magic for me in this stick of Eenwood after all.
ENTERING A STRANGE NEW PLACE can be frightening and disorienting for any of us, but it was especially so for Kendra and her two friends. They were a tiny trio, after all, and none of them had ever visited a proper town outside of the land of Een. Therefore, as they took their first steps down the cold cobblestone streets of Ireshook, the three adventurers found themselves somewhat overwhelmed. From their point of view, the streets seemed wide and vast, with lampposts and buildings looming over their heads. Their noses were assaulted by pungent odors of fish, seawater, and rubbish heaps, and the whole town seemed to be a clatter of noise—the clicking of wooden wheels, the stamping of feet, and the chatter of countless tongues. Some of the town’s denizens cast sideways glances at the wide-eyed Eens.
“Oh, don’t think of pickles,” little Oki murmured.
Kendra had never seen a Gnome before, but she had met many a Dwarf in her travels, and she soon came to the conclusion that the two races were identical save for one striking difference: whereas Dwarves had bushy beards and hairy heads, the Gnomes had no hair at all, not even eyebrows. Otherwise, both were fat and plump, with long noses, giant ears, and—as far as Kendra could tell—vulgar personalities.
“The sooner we find a ship the better,” Kendra remarked.
“Except we have one problem,” Jinx said. “We don’t have any money to hire one.”
“Maybe we could find something to sell,” Oki suggested.
“Hmm,” Kendra murmured, giving one of her braids a tug. “Do we have anything of value?”
“Well, I have my puns,” Oki proposed.
“Oh sure—that will fetch a hefty purse,” Jinx sneered.
“Well, at least I’m trying,” the mouse retorted. “It’s better than just shooting down every idea.”
“Oki’s right,” Kendra said. “Maybe we could—hey, where are we?”
The three companions had been so busy arguing over their predicament that they hadn’t paid attention to where they were going and now found themselves down a narrow alley that had suddenly become very quiet and dark.
“Something nasty is sure to live here,” Oki murmured, and he quickly ducked behind Kendra’s long cape.
“Easy,” Kendra said. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
She had no sooner spoken, however, when a sinister voice cackled from the deep shadows of the alley.
“Heh heh hee. Who dares to enter me domain?”
Jinx immediately raised her poker, and Kendra declared, “We didn’t mean to trespass! We just took a wrong turn.”
“Most unfortunate,” came the voice. “For you, anyway. Heh heh hee.”
There now stepped into view a bent and crooked old woman—surely a Gnome, Kendra thought, for she was not very large. Still, she was a wretched figure to gaze upon, with a nose like an arrow and a single steely eye that seemed as if it would dart right out of its socket. She was dressed all in rags, and she emitted a terrible stench, like rotten fish and sour milk.
“I be the witch of Wastrel’s Alley,” the old woman chortled. “And I be thinking; I know what ye are, girl. An Een! And yer braids will make good magic in me cauldron.”
“Just you try touching a single hair on her head,” Jinx said, brandishing her poker.
“Who said that?” the hag hooted. Then she looked down with her one crooked eye and spied the tiny grasshopper. “Ah! A little bug it be, eh? Didn’t see ye at first! Me eye is not what it used to be. Not much I can do with ye, but I be dreadful lonely since me Tom run off—so maybe I just put ye in a cage for me pleasure. Or maybe your legs will make good seasoning in me soup pot.”
All this time little Oki had been keeping quiet, snuggling tight to Kendra’s legs beneath her cape, but the mention of the soup pot was more than he could bear. He could not help but to discharge a loud and alarming “EEK!”
This had an unexpected effect, for at once the witch jumped high in the air and screamed in an ear-piercing voice: “Aieeeeee! Is that a mouse?”
Jinx turned and looked sharply at Oki. “Quick! Do that again!”
“What?” Oki asked, poking his whiskery face out from behind Kendra’s cape.
“I think she’s afraid of mice!” Kendra declared. “Squeal again, Oki!”
“Er . . . you mean say ‘eek’?” the mouse asked timidly.
“Aieeeeee!” the witch screeched, jumping into the air again. “Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me!”
“Again, Oki!” Kendra cried.
“Er . . . ahem . . . okay,” Oki murmured, clearing his throat.
“JUST DO IT!” Jinx yelled.
“EEEEEEEEEEEK!” Oki cried, scampering out from his hiding place.
“Aieeeeeeeeeeeee!” the old hag shrieked. “Don’t hurt me!” She reached deep into her tattered robe and began hurling the contents of her pockets at the Eens. They soon found themselves bombarded by an assortment of strange items, including beads, bones, feathers, an old cork pipe, and even a bent and battered horseshoe.
“Ow!” Jinx cried as a large button bounced off her head. “Oki, eek some more!”
Oki squeezed his eyes shut, curled his fists, and with all his might yelled, “EEEEEEEEEEEK!”
With another shriek, the witch turned on her pair of skinny, birdlike legs and scrambled up a heap of battered crates that were stacked against the alley wall. It was a clumsy ascent, but once she had made it to the top of her makeshift castle, the witch turned to glare down at the Eens. Now that she was safely above Oki, the old woman seemed to regain her composure.
“Naughty creature!” she hissed, wagging a finger at the mouse. “Frightening me so! But no matter! I have me own ways of dealing with ye!”
“Y-you do?” Oki squealed, skittering back to the safety of Kendra’s robe.
“Because he took one look at you?” Jinx suggested.
“Nay!” the witch sneered. “Because I have the magic to transform into that which frightens ye most!”
Kendra could feel Oki clutch even more tightly to her leg. He gulped loudly.
“So tell me, little mousie,” the witch croaked, “what be the beastie that frightens ye? Heh heh hee. I bet it has scales and teeth and claws . . .”
Even as she was speaking, she began to change in shape and size. For a moment her teeth seemed to grow into long, sharp fangs, and then just as quickly they disappeared. Then her hands gnarled into a pair of wicked claws—but they, too, quickly returned to their normal form.
“Can’t make up yer mind, heh?” the witch heckled. “How ‘bout something with a long lizard’s tongue, or—,”
Then the hag seemed to lose her voice. She clutched at her neck, as if her throat was constricting, and her skin began to turn a terrible green color. Her limbs started to shrink, retracting into her body, which now began to swell and expand as if she was being inflated with air.
“Oki,” Kendra murmured, not daring to take her eyes from this spectacle, “just what are you imagining?”
But Oki was too terrified to reply. Then, with a clatter, the witch tumbled down the stack of crates and landed with a thud at their feet—except, she was a witch no longer. She was a giant green . . . thing. She (if you could still call her a she) just sat there wobbling and reeking strangely of vinegar.
Jinx prodded it with her poker. “What happened?”
Kendra blinked and rubbed her eyes, not quite believing what she was seeing. “I think she turned into an enormous. . . pickle.”
Jinx looked over at Oki. “The thing you’re most afraid of is a pickle?”
“No, of course not,” Oki replied meekly. “I started imagining all sorts of terrible things . . . but then I did what I always do when I’m afraid.”
Kendra Kandlestar and the Shard From Greeve Page 9