Kendra Kandlestar and the Crack in Kazah

by Lee Edward Födi

  “Yes,” the sorceress said. “Leerlin will use his foolish and unpracticed knowledge of dark magic to try and master the ring—but it will crack in a terrible explosion, ripping him to shreds as it sucks him into its fissure. He will be hurtled into the past, and will awaken in the land of Een, in the time of my childhood—your time—his body as bent and disfigured as his heart. He will still have the ring, of course, but he will have no magic left to use it again. And so he will carry it as a mere token of his journey—until Uncle Griffinskitch takes it from him.”

  Kendra fidgeted with her braids; it normally helped her think, but right now her mind was in such a buzz that she knew all the braids in the world wouldn’t be enough to clear her head. “Why?” she asked finally. “Why did Lurk want to travel back in time?”

  “His heart throbs like a nest of skarm,” the sorceress replied. “He is furious that the council denies him the study of magic. So Leerlin will try to change the past. Once he finds himself in your time, he will ingratiate himself with Burdock Brown. They are like two thorns in the same paw; Burdock will make Leerlin his agent, and then that poor, misguided boy will do everything in his power to take away our greatest triumph. He is on a mission of revenge.”

  “This is all so confusing,” Kendra fretted. “What is the greatest triumph that everyone keeps talking about?”

  “It is not a triumph yet—not for you anyway,” the sorceress said. “That depends on the decisions you make, how you decide to use Kazah.”

  “Do you know what?” Kendra announced, abruptly rising to her feet. “I can go back in time myself. I can stop Lurk. I can stop Burdock from cheating in the Magicians’ Match. I can find a way to make sure I don’t lose my family. I can change everything.”

  For a moment the sorceress said nothing. Kendra stared at her and the ancient woman just returned the gaze with her wide and vacant eyes, as if she actually could see. It made Kendra shiver.

  “Everything?” the sorceress said eventually. “Be very careful, child. Start pulling at the tapestry of time, and everything you know may unravel. Remove a single thread—no matter how seemingly insignificant—from the timeline and everything you know—friends, family, even yourself—may change or cease to exist. But in your timeline everything has turned out well, so far.”

  “How can you say that!?” Kendra demanded. “Kiro’s an Unger! I don’t have a family! I want to find them! I want to find my mother!”

  “It looks like you already have,” the old sorceress said, nodding towards the door where, beyond, Gayla and Oki were waiting.

  “You know what I mean,” Kendra growled in frustration. “My proper mother. Who she should be in my time. I want to save her.”

  “Oh, Kendra,” the old sorceress murmured. “What you might worry about is saving yourself. You are so determined to control things. To make sure everything turns out a certain way. But how do you know all this isn’t happening as it should? Sometimes we have to learn to surrender.”

  “No,” Kendra said. “We have to make decisions.”

  “Indeed,” the sorceress said. “But you are too attached to the outcome of those decisions. Take action, ask for what you need, send your intention into the universe—but be not so bold as to demand how that call should be answered.”

  “You don’t make any sense.”

  The elder Kendra sighed. “I know it’s hard for you. But I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to prevent you a mountain of pain. Why do you think I wanted to speak to you?”

  “To make me crazy.”

  “No,” the sorceress said with a gentle smile. “To help you. To talk about the Rumble Pit.”

  “The Rumble Pit!?” Kendra exclaimed. “What does that have to do with anything? It’s in the past.”

  “What happened in that terrible gladiator arena is not yet solidified in the timeline,” the sorceress explained cryptically. “Listen to me carefully, Kendra. There are choices ahead of you. If you don’t make the right ones, then everything you know about your own time will be changed.”

  “And what does that mean?” Kendra asked, taking her seat again.

  “It means,” the old woman warned, “that those you know and love in your own time—the peryton, Trooogul, even Uncle Griffinskitch—will die.”

  WE’VE ALL RECEIVED warnings in our lives. Normally they are about things that could happen if we don’t behave in a certain way. Kendra instantly knew this warning was different. Just by contemplating the old woman’s face, Kendra could tell that she spoke with a knowing wisdom, as if she had seen something in the past that was heart-wrenching and bleak. It showed in every fissure of her ancient face. It gleamed in her eyes, those giant windows that seemed to see nothing—and at the same time everything.

  “D-die?” Kendra sputtered. “How? What’s going to happen?”

  The elder Kendra flashed a sad smile. “Tell me, child,” she said after a moment, “what do you remember about the Rumble Pit?”

  “You should know,” Kendra grumbled impatiently. “If you’re me, then it means you were there.”

  “Tell me anyway; I must know how it happened in your memory.”

  Kendra sighed. “I went there to save Trooogul—and I found him. But then we both ended up in the rumble.” Here Kendra quivered, remembering the terrible clash of all the creatures that had been forced to fight in that pit of doom. Their screeches and roars still echoed in her memory.

  “Please continue,” the old sorceress urged.

  Kendra nodded. “Well, Trooogul fought his way out of the pit, carrying me along with him. Then there was Queen Krake, that terrible lizard giantess. She had Greeve’s shard at that point—but Trooogul fought her and took it. Then he fled.”

  “You didn’t go after him?”

  “You know I didn’t!” Kendra cried in exasperation. “Somehow—I don’t know how—the queen was gone suddenly. And then I heard my friend—our friend—the peryton, the winged deer. He was still in the pit, and he was horribly injured. So I let Trooogul go and went back into the pit to help the peryton. Then Uncle Griffinskitch came; he healed the peryton and we escaped in Ratchet’s cloud ship.”

  “Hmmm,” the sorceress murmured. “But Uncle Griffinskitch and Ratchet were in Burdock’s dungeon, all the way back in the land of Een. How did they escape? How did they find out you were in the Rumble Pit?”

  “I don’t know,” Kendra said. “I asked Uncle Griffinskitch—but he said I wouldn’t believe him, even if he told me.”

  “And what does that mean to you?” the sorceress asked.

  “I assumed he just used magic to escape,” Kendra replied.

  “Indeed,” the sorceress said. “Your magic. Don’t you see, child? You do need to go to the past. But not to the time you are thinking of. The one who rescues Uncle Griffinskitch from Burdock’s dungeon is you.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense!” Kendra exclaimed. “One minute you’re telling me not to mess with the timeline; the next you say I have to.”

  “Am I?” the sorceress asked. “From my perspective, that event is in the past. It’s exactly how I remember it happening. But if you don’t rescue Uncle Griffinskitch, he won’t go and rescue us from the Rumble Pit. There’s more . . . much more. But that’s all I can tell you. Rescuing Uncle Griffinskitch is the first step.”

  Kendra leaned back on her stool, feeling deflated. “You know all the answers already,” Kendra told the old woman. “You know how it turns out. So just tell me! Tell me about our mother.”

  “You’ll have to take her with you,” the sorceress said. “She has a part to play in all of this. There are things she must see.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant,” Kendra said. “I mean, do we ever find her again? In our time? What happened to her after she left the land of Een and disappeared? You know, when I was a baby?”

  “And if I answer those questions, what will that mean to you?” the sorceress asked.

  “It will make me happy,” Kendra said.

  “
Humph,” the sorceress grunted. “That depends on the answers.”

  “It’s unfair,” Kendra said. “How do you know if you tell me that it won’t all turn out the way it should?”

  “Are you presuming that I know the way it should turn out?” elder Kendra asked. “How do I know that even by meeting with you now, telling you to go rescue Uncle Griffinskitch, that it will turn out the way I remember it?”

  Kendra rubbed her forehead and groaned. “Now, I’m the one with the headache,” she complained. “You’re talking in circles.”

  “I know,” the sorceress said. “All of this talk of time travel; it makes the mind dance, wild and crazy, like a moth searching for the light. Listen, child. Do not think too hard. Just feel. That’s the secret to the Kazah stone.”

  “I know,” Kendra said. “The stone takes you to where you’re thinking.”

  “Thinking is not enough,” the sorceress emphasized. “You must connect your thought with feeling. It’s the emotions that resonate with Kazah. A thought without feeling is like a bird without wings; it simply won’t fly.”

  Kendra nodded and pestered a braid.

  “The Kazah stone is very powerful, of course—but its magic is not bottomless,” the sorceress said. “You must be mindful of the crack. With each jump, it widens.”

  “What do you mean?” Kendra asked.

  “Why, the Kazah Stone is like a cosmic key, taking you through all the doorways of time,” the blind woman explained carefully. “But each jump strains the ring. I’m not sure how many jumps may be left in that ruptured stone before it crumbles apart, its power forever exhausted.”

  “And then what will happen?” Kendra asked.

  “You will be stuck forever in whatever time you are visiting,” the elder Kendra said thoughtfully.

  “How many jumps can we make then?” Kendra asked. “What should I do after I rescue Uncle Griffinskitch? Should I come back here? Should I stay in that time? What about Gayla? Don’t I need to get her back to her time?”

  “As I told you, there’s something our mother must see,” the sorceress said.

  “What thing?” Kendra demanded. “What does it look like? What is she supposed to do?”

  “Supposed to do?” the elder Kendra mused. “She will do what she must, I suppose! Kendra, relinquish control! I warn you as solemnly as I can: if you attempt to control the events of the past, to sculpt them to your own desire, it will lead to disaster.”

  Kendra’s mind was spinning again, like a whirlpool. “Listen,” she said. “I need to know if—”

  “I’m afraid our time is at an end,” the elder Kendra interrupted. “There are no more answers I can give you.”

  “But—”

  “Shh,” the old woman admonished, rising now from her seat and shuffling to the door. “Go now,” she said. “Fetch your companions, and slip through the crack in Kazah. Our future, Kendra, is in your hands.”

  AS KENDRA REJOINED HER FRIENDS in the antechamber, she couldn’t help feeling like she had just finished a long and difficult day of school. You’ve probably had those types of days, filled with complicated math formulas and scientific equations. Even though you do your best to understand everything, all you end up with is a headache.

  “What’s going on, Braids?” Gayla asked, hand on one hip. “You look like you’ve been trampled by a pack of Orrids.”

  “This is no time for chitchat,” Captain Ibb stated seriously. “I have been instructed to take you to the depths of the Elder Stone.”

  “EEK!” Oki squealed. “To the dungeons?”

  “There are no dungeons in the Elder Stone,” the serious ladybug replied. “Not anymore, at least. I have no idea why my mistress wishes you to go there, but those were her instructions and I do not question them.”

  With this said, Captain Ibb turned and marched out of the chamber.

  Kendra moved to follow, but Gayla grabbed her by the wrist and jerked her back. “Just hold it, Braids,” Gayla said. “I don’t know about Eeks here, but I’m not going anywhere until you tell us what’s going on.”

  Kendra grimaced. In her possession was a ring that could take her to any place, to any time, and yet here she was, stuck. What exactly was she supposed to tell Gayla? Look, my hundred-and-twelve-year-old self just told me I have to go back in time and rescue my master—which happens to be your brother. And oh, by the way, you’re my mother. And apparently there’s something you have to see too, but who knows what?

  “Well?” Gayla asked, crossing her arms.

  Kendra took a deep breath. “The sorceress, er . . . she just said I have to rescue my master from the old dungeons of the Elder Stone,” Kendra said. “And we have to use Kazah to do it.”

  “We?” Gayla snorted. “Hmph. You want me to go back in time? I just escaped Burdock. I’m not going back home. Not now. Not ever.”

  “It’s not your time we have to go to,” Kendra said. “It’s mine.”

  “But Kendra,” Oki murmured, tugging on her sleeve. “How are we . . . I mean, what if . . . .”

  Kendra knew what he wanted to ask: What’s going to happen when Uncle Griffinskitch and Gayla come face to face with each other? It wasn’t a question Kendra could answer. But there was no use thinking about it anymore; it was time to do what the older sorceress said, and just trust.

  “Please,” she told Gayla. “I need your help.”

  “Fine,” Gayla sneered after a moment. “But I’m only coming because you and Eeks are bound to make a colossal mess of things without me.”

  Just then, Captain Ibb reappeared in the chamber. “I thought I had made it clear that you were to follow me,” he growled.

  “We’re coming,” Kendra said, quickly falling in line behind the ladybug.

  They were soon back in the complicated network of passageways that snaked through the Elder Stone. Captain Ibb led them ever downwards through a series of spiraling staircases and across stone bridges that spanned wide chasms. They were soon so deep that there were no longer any windows; Captain Ibb lit a torch to guide their way.

  “I never knew the Elder Stone went so deep,” Oki murmured. “This is way further down than I’ve ever been!”

  When they finally came to a halt, Kendra could tell they were in a part of the Elder Stone that no one had been in for a long, long time—maybe years. The air had a heavy, musty stench and a thick layer of dust covered the floor. Then Kendra noticed a row of dark, gaping holes on one side of the passageway: the abandoned dungeon cells. They looked like giant mouths, for the top and bottom of each opening was ridged with jagged stumps of wood—all that was left of the prison bars.

  “I shall now take my leave,” Captain Ibb announced abruptly. With a farewell nod, he turned and marched away with his torch, leaving them in complete darkness.

  “Charming fellow,” Gayla muttered. She took out her wand and with a quick flick of her fingers caused the top to glow, producing a faint illumination. “So here we are,” she said. “What’s your plan, Braids? What do we do once we reach the new time?”

  “Er . . . I’m not really sure,” Kendra said.

  “Just going to make it up as we go along?” Gayla asked. “For once, I admire your style.”

  “Oh dear,” Oki murmured. “Maybe we should just come back tomorrow, once we’ve made a proper plan. And a nice cup of tea. And—”

  “What else?” Gayla snarled. “A scrambled egg with toast? Just give it a rest, Eeks. Braids said we have to do this now—so let’s hop to it.”

  Kendra nodded, fished the Kazah stone from her robe, and placed it on her finger. “Here we go,” she murmured.

  She closed her eyes, and began to think of Uncle Griffinskitch, locked away in the dungeon cells. The dungeon part wasn’t hard to imagine—she could already feel the cold stones beneath her feet, taste the dust in the air. She just had to think of her uncle in this very spot, and get the timing right. It took her several minutes to quiet her thoughts and tune her mind, but eventually she could feel Ka
zah flare with warmth, its magic coming to life.

  As the stone warmed her palm, a picture of her uncle emerged in Kendra’s mind. She could see him sitting in a cell, his hands outstretched and his eyes closed in meditation. She could see each white whisker on his beard, even hear his breathing.

  Then Kendra felt the world around her begin to spin.

  “She’s going!” Oki cried.

  “Grab her sleeve!” That was Gayla.

  Kendra felt them clutch her arm and then—in a blinding flash of light—the spinning came to a stop. Kendra opened her eyes and blinked. They were still in the Elder Stone, in the exact same passage, but everything looked different. Now the dungeon cells were in pristine condition, set with rows of strong and sturdy bars, and the passageway was lit with flickering torches.

  Kendra gazed down at Kazah. The crack seemed none the wider; but she wasn’t sure. Tugging a braid, she returned the ring to her robe.

  Gayla’s wand was still glowing; she waved her hand to extinguish its light. “Are we in the right place?” she asked. “The cells are all here, but I don’t see any prisoners.”

  “Maybe they’re in a different row of cells,” Kendra suggested.

  “Hmph,” Gayla grunted. “Or maybe you buggered the whole thing up and dropped us in the wrong place.”

  “I think we’re in the right place,” Oki said timidly.

  “Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Gayla demanded.

  “Because I have a really bad feeling,” Oki answered.

  “You always have a bad feeling,” Gayla retorted.

  “Just leave him alone,” Kendra said. “Come on, let’s take a look around.”

  She led the way down the passage and almost immediately came to a dead end.

  “Good job,” Gayla said. “How are we supposed to rescue someone we can’t find?”

  “I don’t get it,” Kendra said. “Captain Ibb—and Kazah—brought us to this spot.”

  “Hmph,” Gayla snorted. “I guess it’s up to m—”

  But she didn’t finish her sentence, for just then someone appeared at the end of the passageway. It was at that moment that Kendra knew she had succeeded in bringing them to the exact right time, for the Een now blocking their way was none other than her old enemy, Raggart Rinkle, Captain of the Een guard. His nose and cheekbones flared red, sharp as spears, and as he snarled one jagged yellow tooth jutted from his mouth like an Unger’s tusk. But most threatening was the long sword that he carried in one bony hand.