Professor Bumblebean adjusted his spectacles and leaned over to examine the cracked ring. “With such an egregious fracture, I doubt this tenebrous stone has any enchantment at all.”
“Pompous windbag,” Agent Lurk growled. “The crack is its power. I’m the one who discovered that! The crack in Kazah has allowed me a greater journey than you can ever imagine.”
“My word!” Professor Bumblebean declared. “Whatever do you mean?”
But Agent Lurk ignored him. He turned back to Kendra and said, “Tell me, where is the shard from Greeve? It must not be joined with the other fragments of the cauldron. Take the shard—take it now—and throw it overboard.”
“We can’t,” Ratchet said. “We don’t even ha—”
“Quiet your tongue, Ringtail!” Uncle Griffinskitch bellowed.
But it was too late. “Ah, I see,” agent Lurk said. “You don’t have it—which means it’s with the Unger. We must stop him from repairing the cauldron. Otherwise, I promise you this: the land of Een, the one you so know and love, will perish.”
“Humph,” Uncle Griffinskitch muttered. “Should we love what the land of Een has become under Burdock Brown? Should we love watching the homes of innocent Eens burn? Should we love the comforts of a dungeon cell?”
“If it’s for the greater good,” Lurk replied.
“Then there is your folly,” Uncle Griffinskitch retorted. “The greater is not always good.”
With these final words, the wizard turned and shuffled out of the chamber.
“You just stay put,” Jinx snarled at Lurk. Then she led Kendra and the rest of the crew from the compartment and shut the door behind them. They climbed the stairs to the deck, where Uncle Griffinskitch was ruminating over the ring.
“What now?” Kendra asked the old wizard.
“We continue forth,” Uncle Griffinskitch said after a moment. “We shall find Kiro and unravel this mystery. Captain Ringtail, how much damage do you think the ship sustained during the skarm attack?”
“There’s a few holes to patch up,” Ratchet replied. “We need to find a place to berth so we can look her over.”
“Very well,” Uncle Griffinskitch said. “We’ll make repairs—then onwards we go, to seek the City on the Storm.”
Everyone set about to help prepare for the landing, yet Uncle Griffinskitch kept Kendra behind for a moment.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Kazah,” the old wizard replied. “This ring . . . I think it is meant for your keeping.”
“Why?” Kendra asked, giving her braids a startled tug.
Uncle Griffinskitch looked at her intently, as if carefully planning his words. “I have seen you wear it before,” he said at last.
“What do you mean?” Kendra asked. “In a dream? When you were meditating?”
Uncle Griffinskitch shook his head, a mysterious look in his eyes. He placed the ring in her hand; it felt cold and heavy, but Kendra could feel no spark of magic.
“I don’t know what I’m meant to do with this,” she said.
“Humph,” Uncle Griffinskitch muttered. It was a soft, quiet humph, one that Kendra couldn’t even begin to decipher.
IT CAN BE A STRANGE WONDER to inherit a family heirloom. Sometimes these things look so ancient and storied that there’s just no way to fit them into our everyday lives. How can we wear our grandfather’s antique pocket watch to school? Or our grandmother’s silver pendant?
For Kendra, the Kazah stone was extra troubling. Part of her was excited and proud that Uncle Griffinskitch had entrusted the ring to her; yet just to look at it left a queasy feeling in her stomach. After all, it was Agent Lurk’s ring. What if the ring had maimed him? What if it was the thing that had turned him so wicked? Kendra had already tried to wrestle with the terrible power of the Shard from Greeve; as far as she was concerned, she had had her fill of dark magic.
Such thoughts were turning in her mind when Ratchet suddenly cried, “I’ve found it! The perfect port.”
Kendra tucked the ring into her pocket and hurried over to the railing with the rest of the crew. Ratchet was maneuvering the Big Bang alongside a steep cliff face.
“There’s no place to land here,” Kendra murmured, but then she saw a small ledge of rock tucked behind an outcropping of trees.
“We’ll be safe from prying eyes here,” Ratchet surmised.
Oki pulled a cord to shrink the ship’s balloon, and as the Big Bang began to descend, Ratchet released the landing gear, which consisted of two long spindly legs. In a moment the giant, bird-like ship came to a perch on the snowy rocks.
“You know, I think we’re near the land of Een,” said Ratchet as he began casting lines to secure the ship.
“Aye,” Uncle Griffinskitch murmured. “Unfortunately, it’s not Een we’re trying to find.”
“I do say,” Professor Bumblebean chimed in, “if we are near Een, then we are also in the vicinity of the Crags of Dredge, the nesting place of the skarm.”
“If that’s the case, then we must make haste in our repairs,” Uncle Griffinskitch said.
The ship, however, was more severely damaged than Ratchet had first estimated. The balloon needed patching and the hull had been gashed open in two places, which meant it took the crew well into the evening to complete the repairs. Even so, Uncle Griffinskitch was against spending the night on the ledge, and so they set forth again across the winter skies.
“She sails like a charm,” Ratchet cried from the helm. “Foogiewunda!”
“What does that mean?” Kendra asked.
“It means ‘hooray,’” the raccoon explained.
“Then why not just say hooray?” Jinx asked irritably.
“Because it’s not half as much fun as saying foogiewunda!” Ratchet replied.
The raccoon and grasshopper were soon embroiled in a furious debate. Kendra, too weary to listen, trudged below-decks to the cabin she shared with Oki.
The little mouse was already fast asleep in his hammock, but Kendra left the candle lit for a little longer. She sat on the edge of her bunk, feeling too tired to even take off her boots. Then she remembered Kazah. She took out the mysterious ring and turned it over in her hands. She stared deep into its terrible fracture. She couldn’t help thinking of Agent Lurk’s words: “I would rather live in Burdock’s kingdom than by the foolishness of any council of yours.”
Why had he said that? It was like he knew something she did not. Her mind was dizzy with thoughts.
Still holding the Kazah ring, Kendra closed her eyes for a moment, and breathed deeply. There was a game she used to play when she was little, when she felt panicked or overwhelmed. She would imagine her family, what they would have looked like, what it would have felt like to know them. Especially, she would think about her mother, the infamous Kayla Kandlestar. Trying to imagine her always helped Kendra forget her worries.
Everyone had always said that Kayla Kandlestar was a skilled sorceress. She was legendary for her wild and impetuous behavior. Burdock Brown had especially hated her—but that was no big surprise. That hunched and horrid old wizard hated pretty much everyone. But most Eens would just look away uncomfortably when the subject of Kendra’s mother came up. That was Eens for you; they even had a saying: “If you can’t say something nice, pretend your tongue is ice.”
Just what had her mother done to upset everyone so much? Back at home, there was a painting or two of Kayla hanging on the walls. Kendra tried to imagine them now. It had been so long since she had been home. She missed those walls! She missed those pictures. She tried to remember one particular portrait of her mother that was in the kitchen hanging next to the narfoo, that complicated musical instrument. Kendra tried to use Uncle Griffinskitch’s model of meditation, concocting in her mind every detail of her mother. She imagined the color of her hair and eyes, the blush of her cheek. She tried to imagine her mother’s voice, and what it might have felt like to hold her hand. She even tried to imagine her smell . . . .
&nb
sp; “Kendra! What’s happening?”
It was Oki. The little mouse was squeaking frantically and tugging at her sleeve. Kendra opened her eyes, only to find the room a complete blur. Everything seemed to be spinning around her—were they under attack again?
“The ring—it’s glowing!” Oki exclaimed.
Kendra still couldn’t see—but she could feel. Kazah, clutched tight in her hands, was throbbing with warmth.
“Oki!” Kendra cried.
“I’m here—I won’t let go of you! EEK!”
Suddenly it was bright. And cold. To her horror, Kendra realized she and Oki were outside, hurtling through the sky, towards the ground.
“What’s happening?!” Kendra shrieked.
“I don’t know,” Oki squealed, “but we better do something!”
Kendra’s wand was tucked in her belt. Desperately, she reached for it with her free hand, still clutching the ring in her other.
Concentrate, she told herself. Even though she was terrified and falling, she found a pocket of calm and clarity in one corner of her mind. She seized onto this and chanted:
Wand of might
Ease our flight
Like a sprite
Let us alight.
It was hardly the best spell in the world, but she kept repeating it and soon enough they began to slow down. Kendra could see the landscape rise up around them: mountains, crags, and hills. Soon Kendra could see the trees; they were now approaching them at what felt like an alarming speed.
“We’re still falling too fast!” Oki squealed. “Try to slow—”
Crack! They struck the top of a tree—heavily—and tumbled through its network of branches, snapping twigs and sending down a shower of leaves as they fell. Kendra wasn’t about to let her wand slip from her grasp for a second time in one day; she gripped it tightly—but the Kazah ring rolled from her hand and fell through the branches towards the ground.
Kendra felt a branch rake across her face and another jab into her ribs. Then she finally came to a stop, landing on her back against a thin bough that bent, but did not break. Oki ended up right on top of her. For a minute they just lay there, trying to collect their wits.
“Are you okay?” Oki asked eventually.
Kendra nodded, carefully sliding her wand into her belt. “You?”
Oki managed a weak smile. “What happened?”
Kendra shook her head, confused. “I’m not sure. Where are we? Why is everything so green? There shouldn’t be leaves on this tree; it’s the middle of winter!”
But it wasn’t winter. Even though she didn’t dare sit up (she was worried the branch would break), Kendra could see that the sky had changed from dismal gray to blazing blue. She could feel the heat in the air, smell the fragrance of moss and ferns. She could hear the hoot and caw of forest birds.
She could also hear a voice. It came from below, with a threat: “What’s going on up there? You want to attack me? Just bring it on, slurpburgers! I’ll zap you into next week!”
“Eek!” Oki squealed, at the same time giving a little jump—and this was all it took for their branch to snap. Down they went again, crashing through the bottom-most boughs of the tree. They never really hit the ground; instead they landed right on top of whoever had spoken, ending up in a tangle of arms and legs at the base of the trunk. Finally, after a few seconds of grunting and groaning, everyone was able to stand and look at each other.
“Holy hooglegum!” Oki cried.
Standing before them was a Teenling—an Een girl no more than fifteen years old. And she looked remarkably like Kendra.
FOR A MOMENT, Kendra was so stunned that she couldn’t speak. Staring at the girl’s face was like looking into a mirror. She had the same eyes, the same nose, even the same mouth.
But the similarities ended there. Not only was the girl older (and taller) than Kendra, she had a wild look about her, as if at any moment she might lift her chin and howl like an Unger. Her hair was a mess, tousled and tangled with beaded braids that jutted out in a mishmash of directions like snakes trying to wriggle free of an unkempt nest. She was adorned head to foot with bangles and baubles, and her robe, sky blue in color, hung off one shoulder in a way that Kendra thought was just a little too carefree—at least for a sorceress. And a sorceress the girl certainly was (or at least an apprentice), for now she raised a slender wand of Eenwood and brandished it before Kendra and Oki like it was a weapon.
“I thought you were Goojuns,” the girl said in a sharp, accusatory tone. “What are you doing messing around out here? You trying to trick me? How did you get up that tree?”
“Eek!” Oki whimpered. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“Then let’s just start with one, Eeks,” the Teenling snapped, pointing her wand at Oki. “You got a name?”
“Er . . . his name is Oki,” Kendra said, stepping forward with as much boldness as she could muster. “And I’m Kendra.”
“Hmph,” the girl grunted, looking Kendra up and down. “Nice braids,” she said in a sarcastic tone. “Someone zap you with his wand?”
“No!” Kendra said indignantly.
“Hmph,” the Teenling muttered, circling them and tapping one long finger against her Eenwood. “You look familiar, Braids,” she said after a moment. “You got a last name?”
“Kandlestar?” Kendra said uncertainly. She suddenly found her confidence melting as she spoke. This Teenling was strong and bold and—in a wild sort of way—beautiful too. For a reason she couldn’t quite explain, Kendra wanted to impress her.
But she clearly wasn’t off to a good start. “Kandlestar?” the Teenling muttered, wrinkling her nose as if Kendra’s name somehow came with a rotten smell. “You’re not related to that Krimson fellow, are you? What a snorehog! Always tinkering in his garden or quoting some monotonous Een legend. BOR-ing!”
Kendra and Oki looked at each other in surprise. Krimson Kandlestar was the name of Kendra’s father, but he had disappeared along with Kendra’s mother and brother, eleven years ago. How could this Teenling remember my father? Kendra wondered. She must have been just a toddler when he disappeared. Kendra gave her braids a fretful tug and began to ask, “Did you know—”
“How did you get way up that tree?” the girl interrupted, repeating her earlier question. “You can’t just fall from the sky.”
“Well . . . ,” Kendra murmured. The truth was they had fallen from the sky—but Kendra wasn’t even sure how. One minute she had been looking at the ring and the next—“Oh!” Kendra exclaimed, suddenly remembering that she had dropped Kazah. It must have landed somewhere around here, Kendra thought, frantically dropping to her knees to search for the ring amidst the canopy of ferns and flowers.
“What are you looking for?” the girl demanded.
“Kazah!” Kendra answered, crawling through the undergrowth. “My ring!”
“You dropped it?” Oki cried, joining Kendra on the ground. “Oh dear!”
“Ring? What ring?” the Teenling asked, looming over them. “What’s so special about it?”
“My master gave it to me,” Kendra said over her shoulder. “It’s . . . er, important.” She didn’t want to tell the girl too much. After all, Kendra herself wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the Kazah stone.
“Well, I didn’t see anything,” the Teenling said, shuffling after Kendra and Oki as they crawled across the forest floor. “If you dropped it from that tree, it could have bounced away anywhere. Even down some hole.”
“But we have to find it!” Kendra said.
“Not now we don’t, Braids,” the girl said, reaching down and pulling Kendra to her feet. “With all the racket you two Eeklings made crashing through that tree, it’s a wonder the flysuckers aren’t already here.”
“Eek! Flysuckers?” Oki asked, looking about nervously.
“Yeah, you know—Goojuns,” the girl replied. “We are in the Forests of Wretch, after all.”
“EEK!” Oki squealed. “The Forests of Wretch!? Don’t
think of eggs! Don’t think of eggs!”
“Eggs?” the Teenling echoed. “You know what, Eeks? You’re a strange little ball of whiskers.”
“But the Forests of Wretch!” Oki exclaimed, his eyes going wide. “That’s close to Goojun City!”
“Yeah, we’re practically in their backyard,” the girl proclaimed proudly. “That’s why we have to get going.”
Kendra fussed with her longest braid, shaking her head. “But the ring—”
“Look, Braids,” the Teenling said, turning to Kendra. “We can always come back for it if we need to. Don’t worry. I’m sure it will turn up.”
Before Kendra could argue the matter any further, the girl turned and began marching briskly through the forest. Kendra cast a weary glance at Oki. The Teenling was nearly out of sight already. She hadn’t even bothered to turn and check if they were following.
“That’s one jinxly Teenling,” Oki observed.
Kendra raised an eyebrow at the little mouse. “Jinx isn’t going to appreciate you making up new words based on her,” Kendra told Oki. “But you’re right . . . this girl is . . . er, jinxly. But what do we do? It’s either her or the Goojuns.”
“Her,” Oki said quickly. “And, if you ask me, I think she took the Kazah stone.”
“Why would she do that?” Kendra exclaimed.
“I don’t know,” Oki said. “But if I’m right, it’s all the more reason to stick with her.”
“Come on then,” Kendra said, clutching Oki’s paw. “Er . . . miss?” she panted as they hastened to catch up with the Teenling. “Wait up!”
“Miss?” the girl snarled, still not turning around.
“Well . . . we don’t know your name,” Kendra said.
“Gayla.”
Gayla. The name fluttered across Kendra’s mind like a bird seeking a place to land. Why was that name so familiar? She looked down at Oki, but he only shrugged.
She turned back to Gayla. “Where are we going?” Kendra asked.
Kendra Kandlestar and the Crack in Kazah Page 3