Zaria Fierce and the Dragon Keeper's Golden Shoes

by Keira Gillett

  “I didn’t mean your parents. They’re not magical. I meant Queen Helena. Zaria have you thought about using the mirror to contact her?”

  Zaria’s violet eyes widened as her mouth dropped into a small ‘O.’ “It didn’t occur to me. I didn’t think of her at all. I was only worried about my parents and what they might be thinking.”

  “We should see if she’s okay, though, right?” asked Christoffer.

  Hector shook his head, stuffing one last heaping bite of food into his mouth. “It’s good that you didn’t. Something’s not quite right in Jerndor, and King Flein is unwilling to acknowledge it. I would not be surprised, if the walls had both eyes and ears.”

  “Do you mean that literally?” Geirr questioned, looking a bit queasy. He put down his fork. “I thought the walls were all stone and dirt.”

  Hector laughed. “No, boy. I meant that whoever is in cahoots with Olaf and Koll might have spies. What did you think I meant? Living walls, all fleshy and bloody?”

  Geirr shrugged. “Maybe. I’m not entirely positive we’ve seen the end of strangeness around here.”

  “No,” Hector agreed. “Neither am I. If you’re all done eating, let’s get topside. When we’re camped for the night, we should be far enough from Jerndor to try calling Helena.”

  Zaria stuffed her face with the last few morsels from her plate and shoved away from the table. She was eager to get going, so she could try calling her birth mother. She wanted to ask her so many questions. They had so much to catch up on, like what was her father like, or why she gave her up, or magic, and how to fight dragons.

  Filip walked past her plate, looping an arm around her neck, before reaching back and stealing the last bread roll. She shot him a mock glare, but he simply smiled and popped it whole into his mouth.

  “Pig,” she said, causing him to laugh. She grabbed the Drakeland Sword and held it at her side. Hector frowned at her and the weapon.

  “Where is Hart?” Filip asked, distracting the Stag Lord. “Do you know?”

  Hector touched the lumpy rock at his throat. The misshapen pendant resembled something between an arrow and a heart. Zaria knew from Hector that when it was held before a light source it would turn clear as crystal and cast a beam of light. If they followed this light, it would lead them straight to Hart.

  “If Olaf hasn’t moved him, Hart is south of us, but north of the cliffs of Malmdor.”

  “Great,” Geirr sighed. “We’re heading toward the evil dwarf kingdom, are we? What horrors should we expect now?”

  Hector gave a wan smile. “Oh, I expect the usual sort of thing – misery, mayhem, and murder.”

  Geirr gulped. “I don’t suppose I could take a rain check on that could I?”

  “I’ll at least let you all sleep before we go,” Hector said, eyeing the weapons shop. “I realize I’ve forgotten something at the Mighty Hollows. We should keep to our quarters for the rest of the day. It’s going to be quite a journey ahead of us.”

  They left the city-state of Jerndor the following morning with guard escorts following at their heels. They weren’t the only visitors leaving. Pekka the Overwhelming, the young giant they had met a few days before in the waiting chambers, was also leaving. The giant had a fondness for raising rabbits and was the official messenger between Rjupa the Bountiful and the rest of magical Norway.

  As Zaria watched, he took awkward mincing steps and bent low to avoid hitting his head on the support beams in the ceiling. He was about half as tall as the other giants they had met. Most of Jerndor was built on a grand scale, but this room wasn’t meant for larger visitors, since it couldn’t accommodate a teenage giant.

  “Want to bet it’s the shoe?” Christoffer said, pointing to the giant’s feet and mismatched shoes.

  “That’s the seven-league boot,” Zaria said, recognizing it from her first visit to the Hidden Gem.

  “Hey Pekka, my man,” Christoffer called out. “What’s wrong with the shoe?”

  The young giant turned around, waved a friendly hello, and budged his way over, nearly knocking down the guards beside them in the process. His nose and eyes looked bruised, which is to say they were a different shade of stone than the rest of his face, as if he’d gotten wet only in those spots.

  “Is the shoe too small?” Zaria asked.

  Pekka shook his head, bashfully running a hand along his nose. “Oh no, it fits great. I learned the hard way that if I take a normal step down here I run into the walls at a breakneck speed.”

  “Ouch,” Christoffer said sympathetically.

  Pekka winced recalling it, touching his nose lightly again. “The dwarves were not happy either with the giant-sized hole I created. Their structural engineers are looking at the damage now.”

  “Pekka,” Hector interrupted, drawing closer, displacing two nearby guards. “I’m happy to see you. I have a message I need you to deliver to Rjupa, Petronella, and Oskar.”

  “To all Norway giant rulers?” Pekka asked in surprise.

  “Yes, and the others in Finland and Sweden,” Hector said. “I’ll tell you, as soon as we’ve gotten out of here. It’s a delicate matter.”

  “Of course, Stag Lord,” Pekka said, his friendly demeanor shifting under the seriousness of Hector’s tone. “I should be leaving next. That’s right, isn’t it?” He directed the last to a female dwarf by a trio of mirrors with a fancy feathered pen and a metal clipboard.

  She nodded without looking at them. “Yes, you’ll be departing left in about two minutes.”

  “Is this like a train station for mirror travel?” Geirr asked.

  Hector nodded. “These mirrors are like the mirror we came through from Niffleheim. One is for Malmdor, that’s the right one – if you watch the departing traffic carefully you can see the forges in the background.”

  “The left takes you north, just outside of Vadsø,” Pekka offered. “It’s how I usually come and go.”

  “And the middle?” asked Hector. “Where does that one go?”

  “Somewhere near Trolgar,” Pekka answered. He rubbed his nose again, wincing a little. “I’ve never been that far south. I heard that mountain-trolls are a pretty nasty lot.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Geirr said under his breath.

  “They’re probably sending us through that one,” Hector said. “It’ll be interesting to see where we exit. I didn’t realize there was a faster way to get to Jerndor. That would have saved us a lot of time. Ask the lady if she’ll send you with us. Otherwise, we’ll follow you through the left mirror.”

  Pekka nodded and shuffled-stepped over to the dwarf. She looked up with an irritated expression. A few minutes later he was back and gave Hector a thumbs up.

  “I’ll be with you,” he said. “She didn’t care which way any of us went just so long as we cleared her lobby.”

  “I vote for the left mirror,” Filip said. “I don’t exactly relish a repeat of the Wild Hunt, if we can avoid it.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” said Hector. “Remember, King Kafirr is on our side.”

  “For now,” Aleks said quietly. “How long will that last? He and his father flip-flopped all the time during the Dragomir Wars. Oskar said so.”

  “As long as it suits him,” Hector said, hiking his bag up over his shoulder as the dwarf woman waved them forward. “Now, what do you all say? The middle mirror?”

  Zaria and the others reluctantly agreed, following Hector through the mirror portal. Only Pekka seemed eager to go, but that was because he’d never met Kafirr, or his hooligan hordes led by Jorkden and Morvin.

  Passing through a mirror is like traveling through a cool and squishy, slightly sticky substance, such as pudding or treacle. It’s uncomfortable, like water dripping into the backs of your shoes, but it’s harmless. When Zaria came out the other side she was unchanged, her freshly done French braid hung dry and frizz-free down her back.

  They were definitely south again, because the trees soared high all around them, not at all stunted li
ke the northerly trees in Jötunheim. The group emerged from a large base of a tree. When they had cleared the ancient roots, Hector looked around getting his bearings.

  “It disappeared,” Christoffer exclaimed, pointing at the mirror. “One minute it was there; the next it shimmered and blinked out of existence.”

  Hector turned back around and walked toward the mirror. It shimmered back into view. Christoffer gaped at it in shock.

  “How is it doing that?” he demanded.

  “Mirrors and illusions,” Hector said, putting a hand over his eyes as he searched the trees nearby. “Look up there.”

  They all looked, following his finger to where he pointed around the tree. A complicated set of mirrors was angled this way and that, casting and redirecting light. When Hector moved backward again, the mirror winked out of sight. He moved forward, and it came back.

  “When you disrupt the light’s path, the mirror returns. When you are out of the way, the reflections hide the mirror’s location. Ingenious. No wonder I never knew it was here.”

  “The trolls do something similar in Trolgar,” Zaria noted. “I saw it on their ceilings. It’s how they get so much light into their caves.”

  “It appears elves aren’t the only masters of illusions around here,” Hector said quietly. “I’m going to let Madam Brown out now that we’re safely away from the dwarves. Then we should get going, we haven’t any time to lose.”

  Chapter Three: A Journey Measured in Half-Leagues

  “I can get us there quickly,” Pekka offered. “I have part of a pair of seven-league boots.”

  “That’s a good idea,” said Hector. “We have to go northwest from here. Can you carry all of us?”

  Pekka looked around and counted everyone slowly. “I can’t take seven. Too many. Perhaps two at a time, maybe two and one-half. I’m not full grown yet.”

  “I go with Hector,” Madam Brown squeaked. “And I tis not a half, I tis a full-size thank you.”

  Pekka rubbed his nose abashedly. “Yes, clearly. My apologies, Madam Brown. Maybe I can take three at a time,” he amended.

  “I’ll show you where to go,” said Hector. “We’ll take Zaria and Aleks with us. Then you can come back for the others.”

  Pekka held out a hand to Zaria. She took it and scrambled up his arm to his shoulder. Aleks swung up and landed near her. Madam Brown clung to Hector, perching on his shoulders, as he settled on the other side of Pekka, holding the giant’s ear for balance.

  “No fair,” Christoffer grumped good-naturedly. “I wanted to go first.”

  “We’ll be next soon enough, mate,” Filip said, settling down on the ground. “Besides, I’m not sure I want to be on that first ride anyway.”

  “Yeah, Pekka might run into trees like he did with the walls,” agreed Geirr.

  “We’ll be back momentarily,” Hector explained. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Don’t worry,” Christoffer said, waving. “I want to ride on a giant. I’m the only one who hasn’t, you know. We’ll be here.”

  Pekka took a step with his normal boot, and then he took a step forward in the seven-league boot. Zaria saw a dizzying whirl of color streak past her like the lights of a whirligig in a carnival. She had to close her eyes and block it out. They came to a jerky stop. Cautiously, she opened first her left, then her right eye.

  “Hold up a second, Pekka,” Hector called out.

  He took off his necklace and held it up to the sky. Zaria watched as sunlight hit it and turned the ebony stone white. After a minute the stone focused the light and cast a beam to the left. Hector pointed, and Pekka took another dizzying, space-defying step.

  The process continued for several steps. Pekka would move his right foot, and they would shoot forward in space. Then Hector would hold the necklace to the light, and they would follow the beam. Eventually the beam got shorter, which Hector said meant they were closer.

  After one particularly lurching step, they nearly hit a tree, but Pekka managed to avoid it by hopping to the right and crashing to his knees. Zaria just barely avoided falling off of the giant’s shoulder with help from Aleks. They wobbled unsteadily for a moment, before regaining their footing.

  “Are we there yet?” Zaria asked, only half-jokingly.

  Aleks gave a short bark of laughter. “We’ve got to be. How many steps have we taken?”

  “Hundreds?” Zaria guessed.

  Hector laughed and clapped her on the back. “That’s an exaggeration,” he said. “Hop off. You two and Madam Brown set up camp and start on lunch. Try calling Queen Helena with the mirror. I’ll be back with Pekka in a few minutes.”

  Aleks and Zaria leapt from the back of Pekka to the forest floor. Zaria was grateful the giant had been on his knees, so the jump wasn’t far from the ground. Aleks caught Hector’s bag and Madam Brown and set them both down. The little group waved at Hector and Pekka.

  They watched as the giant regained his feet and then the pair disappeared in a shuffle step. It was like watching a giant move at faster-than-light speed, the air around them wavered and the nearby trees leaned away. They probably had to, if they didn’t want the giant to crash into them and topple them over.

  Aleks swung his backpack around and started to rummage through it. “Here’s the mirror. Try calling Queen Helena first, and I’ll do a quick check-in with Grams after you’re done.”

  Zaria took the mirror and pressed the tapered edges. It clicked and she said, “Show me Queen Helena.”

  The mirror’s surface spun and swirled. It stayed that way like a mobile phone unable to get connection. She showed it to Aleks. He took it and repeated the words. Nothing happened.

  He tried calling Ava and the mirror whizzed over scenery with ease and focused in on her. They were seeing her from the backside of a shovel. After checking in with her, he hung up and handed the mirror back to Zaria.

  She tried again, but it swirled in confusion, its gray scene unmoving. She hung up, fighting her disappointment, giving the mirror back to Aleks. He put it away.

  “Do you think it’s because the Under Realm is too far, or do you think something’s happened?” asked Zaria.

  Aleks shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope it’s the former, but who knows what Koll’s up to down there. Let’s not worry about it, until Hector’s back. Let’s see what we have for food.”

  Zaria nodded and set her backpack on the ground, going through it. “I have a couple more snack packs,” she said.

  “I have a pot,” Madam Brown said, pulling it from Hector’s bag and unshrinking it. “I also have a few snares.”

  She piled those next to the pot. Aleks picked them up and looked around. “I’ll set these up in a few locations. Maybe we’ll be lucky and catch something.”

  “If not, doesn’t Hector have reindeer jerky, too?” Zaria asked.

  Madam Brown nodded, pulling out a wax-wrapped package tied with string. “He does. He also has some turnips, carrots, mushrooms, and fingerling potatoes. I could make a vegetable soup.”

  “How can I help?” Zaria asked. “I don’t know anything about snares, but I can help prep vegetables.”

  Aleks went off into the woods, as Zaria and Madam Brown got to work preparing the ingredients for the soup. Zaria had just finished chopping up the turnips and carrots, when Pekka reappeared in the clearing. He staggered under the weight of Hector and the three boys. His brow was slick with sweat.

  “You’ve done a great job; why don’t you rest,” Hector said. “We’ll prepare lunch. What would you like?”

  Pekka huffed and puffed and slumped to the ground like a pile of rubble. “I could use some water. I feel like I’ve traversed the whole of Norway a dozen times.”

  “It’s the boot,” Christoffer said, patting the giant’s arm. “Maybe you should take it off.”

  “Maybe I should,” Pekka agreed. He heaved himself up and tugged off his boots.

  Christoffer’s face contorted as the smell hit him. “Errgh,” he exclaimed, clapping a ha
nd over his nose and mouth. “Do you ever wash your feet?”

  Everyone laughed. Hector took a special cup from Pekka, while the giant pulled out a second, larger cup. The first was human-size, the second giant-size.

  “A present from Rjupa,” Pekka explained. “She got it from the witch in the woods. It’s enchanted. As you fill the small cup the bigger cup will also fill.

  Hector nodded and turned to go.

  “Wait a minute,” Filip called out. He ran over to Aleks’ backpack and pulled two collapsible fishing rods. “Geirr and I will go with you. Maybe catch some fish.”

  Later, when everyone had gathered again, Madam Brown had a large pot of vegetable soup going. Aleks brought back a trio of skinned squirrels, and Geirr a pair of small fish. Madam Brown added them to the soup.

  Christoffer scarfed down his food, as if it had been days since he had eaten instead of hours. Filip and Geirr were not much better. Zaria, too, inhaled her food, but she tried to be ladylike about it and not slurp. Even Pekka ate some, after checking that the meat wasn’t rabbit. Using the magical cup, he polished off the remnants in the pot.

  “What was the message you needed me to deliver?” Pekka asked, wiping his mouth and looking more refreshed.

  “I need you to tell them that Olaf has a partner in Jerndor. I’m not certain it’s the king – it could be anyone at court – but someone is definitely aiding Olaf. There was a mirror that led into the Under Realm.”

  “No!” exclaimed Pekka, sitting straight up, eyes wild. “That’s forbidden. They should have all been removed when the fairies finished building the void.”

  “Yes,” Hector agreed. “Nevertheless, a mirror existed, and it linked Jerndor to the Under Realm. Zaria was tricked into going through it and releasing Koll from his chains with the Drakeland Sword.”

  Zaria blushed as hot shame poured over her. Christoffer budged her shoulder. “Not your fault.”

  Hector nodded. “No, it’s not her fault. Koll convinced her he was my son.”

  “I should have known better,” Zaria protested.