Kendra Kandlestar and the Crack in Kazah

by Lee Edward Födi

  “You’re telling me they’re brothers?” Gayla asked. “They all look completely different.”

  “Oh, they’re not actually related,” Oki explained. “There’s one legend that tells how the first seven elders took an oath that bound them as one. ‘Brother’ is just a title—you know, like ‘Elder.’”

  “How about the title of ‘I-don’t-actually-give-an-eek’?” Gayla muttered.

  Kendra would have had a retort for her, but Leemus escorted them onto the Elder Stone and directly into the circle of brothers. All eyes were upon them; Oki began murmuring about eggs and Kendra had to nudge him to be quiet.

  “What now, Brother Longshanks?” asked Izzen Icebone, some amusement in his voice as he stared at Kendra’s hair. “Is it not enough that you always insist on bringing your bushy-tailed sidekick to our council meetings? Tell us, who are these strangers?”

  “My Brothers, a most splendulous event has occurred,” Leemus declared, his arms wheeling in the air as he spoke. “The Eengels we have been awaiting have arrived.”

  “We?” asked Drake Dragonclaw, his quizzical expression punctuated by a crop of spiky hair. “You, Brother Longshanks, are the only one who has foretold these so-called Eengels.”

  Kendra fussed nervously with a braid. It didn’t sound like Leemus was exactly the most popular member of the council.

  “I shall prove they are from beyond,” the long-haired wizard declared. “Listen: the mouse can speak.”

  He pushed Oki forward and, after much prodding, convinced him to talk.

  “Spells and witchcraft for all we know,” Nooja Nightstorm grunted after Oki had forced out a few words. “What—if anything—is so special about these two sisters?”

  “We’re not sisters,” Gayla interjected, crossing her arms.

  Kendra, embarrassed by her rudeness, reached up to tug another braid; her palm must have shown in the moonlight, for at once Thunger Thunderfist cried, “Wait, child. Show your hand again.”

  Kendra slowly raised her palm. The brothers gasped.

  “Look!” Leemus declared. “She has the mark.”

  Kendra gazed down at her own hand—there was nothing she could see, but she knew the mark was there. In her time, it was something only the Ungers and other monster tribes could see. For them it was part of a prophecy, that she would destroy the Door to Unger. And, of course, she had.

  Now, in the ancient past, the mark seemed important again. When she looked away from her palm, she saw that all six Brothers had raised their hands. She could see nothing on their palms—but it was clear that they could.

  “When we took our oath as brothers, the mark appeared,” Orin Oldhorn declared. “It is a sign of unity and purity. But the question is, why do you have it, child?”

  Kendra gulped. What was she supposed to say? She had just been born with it. She couldn’t explain why. And she couldn’t tell them about the future either, not anything specific anyway. But the brothers were staring at her expectantly, so she just blurted out, “It is as you say. It is a sign of . . . purity. It means that I am the destroyer of the door to . . . the door to darkness and doom.”

  “The door to darkness and doom?” Nooja scoffed. “What door? I know of no such thing.”

  “You will,” Kendra assured him.

  “You!” Thunger Thunderfist growled in an accusatory tone. “You predict our future, do you?”

  Kendra fidgeted.

  “Bah!” Thunger growled with a dismissive wave of an enormous hand. “How can we trust these strangers? Perhaps they have been sent here by Brother Greeve himself. They could be part of an elaborate plot to betray us.”

  “No!” Kendra cried. “We’re on your side . . . I assure you.”

  For a moment no one said anything; Kendra thought she might melt underneath the weight of their stares.

  At last Izzen Icebone spoke. “There is no doubt that the arrival of these three strangers presents some mystery, and we know not if they be friend or foe. I suggest we decide their fate once we have turned our minds to the matter at hand: the invitation from Grendel Greeve.”

  There was a murmur of consensus from the brothers. Kendra, Gayla, and Oki were asked to leave the stone, and Clovin escorted them to a nearby tree, where a low-hanging branch served as a type of bench.

  “You know,” Oki whispered, “there’s no Captain of the guard here . . . no reason why we just can’t use Kazah and escape while we can.”

  “Escape?” Gayla asked. “From what? These mouldy-oldies? They’re not out to hurt us, Eeks. Let’s just listen in on what they have to say.”

  “I thought you didn’t care about all of this legend stuff,” Kendra said.

  Gayla’s only response was a disgruntled “hmph,” so with a sigh, Kendra leaned forward, strained her ears, and listened to the words of the first elders of Een.

  DRAKE DRAGONCLAW now raised his staff in the moonlight and with some formality announced, “Tonight we hold council to decide our response to the plea of our fallen brother. We shall begin by hearing once again his letter so that his words are fresh in our minds. Brother Nightstorm, the letter is in your possession. Please read it for us now.”

  Nooja Nightstorm nodded and reached into his tunic to produce a small roll of parchment. After fiddling with his spectacles, he read:

  Brothers,

  I write with the humblest of hearts to entreat your forgiveness. I tell you all in earnest, I am an Een transformed. Wandering in exile, lo these many years, has washed away the treachery of my heart. Hear me, brothers! It is with ardent joy that I tell you I am like a garden which flourishes without weeds. Listen: I have built a sanctuary in the wilderness, a palace of peace amidst beauty and bounty. I call it Greeve’s Green, and I beseech you to visit me, to be my noble guests. The stars shall direct you; come to me, my brothers. Let the brotherhood be whole again.

  With all humility,

  Your Brother Greeve

  Kendra listened to all of this in wonder. Greeve’s Green? she thought. She had been there—it was anything but green. In her time, it was called the Greeven Wastes, a desolate place of rock and ruin. It was here that the dark temple stood, guarded by the Door to Unger, the very one she had destroyed—well, in the future, at least. She shuddered to think of it in this time, standing newly erected.

  The council of brothers was now silent. Kendra looked over at Gayla, and noticed her staring intently at the circle of wizards. She wondered what was going through her mind.

  Finally, Thunger Thunderfist cleared his throat. “This message fills me with terrible unease,” he declared. “I do not trust the words of our fallen brother. I have spent many sleepless nights considering our path forward, and this is what I propose. Let us, indeed, journey to Greeve’s Green, to meet our brother. But let us take Eens armed with spear and sword, so that we might be prepared against his further betrayal.”

  “An army?!” Leemus cried (he was now sitting, having taken a place between Thunger and Izzen). “What ticklewickle is this?” he demanded. “My brothers, I implore you. War is not the way of Eens.”

  “Nor is treachery and darkness,” Drake said. “Yet these are the traits demonstrated by our fallen brother. I, for one, agree with Brother Thunderfist’s plan. We go not to make war, but to guard ourselves against danger.”

  The other brothers now broke out in heated debate, but at last Izzen was able to quiet them. “Enough!” he boomed, banging his staff against the Elder Stone. “Each of us has contemplated this for seven moons: long enough. Let us put it to the vote. Who supports the plan put forth by Brother Thunderfist?”

  Three hands immediately went to the air. After a moment, two more joined them. Only Leemus did not agree with the decision.

  “The council has spoken,” Izzen proclaimed. “Let us make arms and in three moons set forth to meet with our fallen brother. It will take us several weeks to reach the palace of the Wizard Greeve. It will be an onerous journey, but hopefully a fruitful one.”

  “And w
hat of the Eengels?” Leemus asked. “Should we not consult them? They have come from the beyond to give us counsel in these most gindly times.”

  “I do not know what to make of these strange Eens,” Izzen said. “Perhaps they are for us; perhaps not. So let them accompany us to Greeve’s Green. This way they shall never leave our watchful eye. We shall know their purpose yet.”

  “What shall we do with them in the meantime?” Nooja asked.

  “Split them up,” Thunger declared. “That way, they shall have no chance to confer or plot. I shall take the younger sister. Nooja can take the other. As for the mouse . . . why, Leemus, you so relish the company of critters. The mouse stays with you.”

  “They are not our prisoners!” Leemus exclaimed, rising to his feet.

  “Sit, Brother,” Izzen hissed. “Indeed, they are not prisoners, and we shall not treat them as such. But they shall not meet or speak to one another during these next three days, nor during the journey itself. These are troubled times, and we must take caution.”

  “We’re in a wongle now,” Oki moaned from their tree branch. “See!? We should have left when we had the chance. Now we have to go back to the Door to Unger! Oh, don’t think of eggs, don’t think of eggs.”

  “What do you mean back?” Gayla snapped. “What is this door anyway? And this mark on your hand, Braids? There’s a whole lot you little sneaky snirtles haven’t told me and I want answers.”

  Kendra yanked hard on her braid. Luckily, she didn’t have to come up with an answer, for just then Thunger Thunderfist lumbered over to her and with one mighty hand scooped her from the tree branch and led her away. She cast a frantic look over her shoulder and managed a wave to her companions. She was thankful Oki was staying with Leemus and Clovin. She could only imagine how panicked he would be to be put under the watchful eye of the giant Thunger Thunderfist.

  Like her.

  We’re in trouble, she told herself as she walked in the enormous shadow that Thunger cast in the moonlight. I can’t jump while we’re split up. That would mean abandoning Gayla and Oki. And now we have to go back to the Door to Unger. The Wizard Greeve is going to curse the elders—and us too.

  There have probably been times when your friends or family have become embroiled in a fight, causing you to endure some long and uncomfortable silence over dinner or on the ride home. For Kendra, the next three days were exactly like this. She could tell both the temper and anxiety of Thunger Thunderfist were high, and the giant wizard spoke only to give her the simplest of commands.

  Kendra caught him looking at her palm from time to time, trying to glimpse the mark, but he never directly asked her about it again. She supposed he simply did not trust her. And so she was confined to his house (a humble abode, in a hollowed-out ledge of rock) and spent her hours meditating by a small crack that served as a window. She could not see the preparation of the Een army, but she could often hear it. The sounds of weapon-making filled her ears: the smash of hammers against metal and the sharpening of stone.

  After three days, early in the morning, Thunger roused her from the hammock he had strung for her in one corner of the cave-like dwelling. After a simple breakfast Kendra followed the wizard to the edge of a vast field, where she estimated over one hundred and fifty Eens had assembled. They were divided into regiments, each marked by different colored uniforms and flags to represent the brother that commanded them (Thunger’s men wore gray and brown). There were also many women attached to each regiment; Kendra could tell by their garb and supplies that they were the cooks and messengers of the army. But for the most part the field was full of men, each of them burdened with heavy weapons: swords, axes, and spears.

  An entire army of Eens, Kendra thought in wonder. The history books never said anything about this.

  Try as she might, Kendra could catch no glimpse of Oki or Gayla, though she did at one point see Leemus. His regiment was clothed in uniforms of forest green, and even Clovin was wearing a long cape that fluttered in the morning breeze.

  I guess he’s coming too, Kendra thought, but he was the only animal in the entire assemblage (other than Oki, whom she hoped was somewhere).

  Then, with a wave of his staff, Izzen Icebone gave the order for the massive army to march. And march they did.

  “You,” Thunger said to Kendra, putting a sturdy hand on her shoulder. “You will not leave my sight.”

  Kendra nodded. She still had no idea what part she was meant to play in all of this. Was she meant to stop the curse? Was she meant to save Leemus from it? Then she heard once again the voice of the blind old sorceress, her elder self. It reverberated in her mind, clearly as if she was standing right next to her: Surrender, Kendra, the voice said. Trust.

  Kendra trudged forward and pulled on a braid. Easily enough said, she told herself. Much harder to do.

  THE NEXT FEW WEEKS were lonely ones for Kendra. Thunger Thunderfist was ever present, but he continued to be a wall of stony silence. She tried engaging some of the cooks and messengers in conversation, but a rumor had gone through the army that she was either Eengel or spy, and most were too spooked to offer the Een girl much more than a hasty nod.

  She saw very little of Oki and Gayla during this time. If she was lucky, she would catch a glimpse of them, but she was never allowed to speak to them, or even get close enough to exchange a hand signal. On the luckiest of days, Clovin would scamper up and chatter something in her ear. She always hoped it was a message from Oki, but she could never understand the squirrel.

  And so time wandered slowly, each day the same as the last: wake up, eat, break camp, march, eat, make camp, eat, sleep, and start all over again. The only thing that ever changed was the landscape. In her own time, of course, Kendra had known the lands of the Wizard Greeve to be desolate and decaying—and that’s how she expected to find them here. And yet, with each step the army took towards Greeve’s domain, the forests only seemed more lush and green, the rivers swelling their very banks.

  And it wasn’t right.

  This Kendra knew as sure as the braids on her head. It’s part of Greeve’s trickery, she told herself.

  Six weeks after they had set off from the lands of Een, the army arrived at Greeve’s Green. Before them lay a carpet of emerald-green grass sprinkled with white and yellow flowers, sloping gently up towards a magnificent white palace. Each towering spire looked as if it had been built from a single sparkling stone, shimmering against the azure sky. Bedazzled, the Eens rubbed their eyes and gasped.

  It was truly a place of wonder and beauty—but Kendra’s stomach reeled with a terrible, sick feeling. “Now what do we do?” she asked Thunger.

  “We make camp,” he replied. “And wait for Greeve.”

  There was an extra buzz of activity among the army that afternoon. No one complained about thin rations or sore feet; all anyone could talk about was the white palace. “Can we live here?” Kendra heard more than one Een ask.

  She could only shake her head in dismay. Other than herself, it seemed everyone—even the brothers—was under a spell.

  Then, just as the sun was beginning to set, a tall figure robed in white appeared at the top of the slope, in front of the gates of the palace. In one hand he clenched a long, crystal-white staff; the other hand was raised open-palm to the sky.

  “Brother Greeve,” Thunger murmured in awe.

  He gestured for Kendra to follow him to the head of the army, where the other brothers had assembled. There at last were Oki and Gayla, chaperoned by their guardian wizards. Kendra would have charged forward to embrace them, but Thunger put his heavy hand on her shoulder; she didn’t dare budge. Now all eyes turned to the white wizard standing at the palace gates. Everyone watched. Then, just as the sinking sun enveloped the Wizard Greeve in a blaze of light, a giant moth fluttered from his hand and crossed the plain. It delivered a scroll at Drake Dragonclaw’s feet and buzzed back to its master.

  “It’s an invitation to dinner,” the brother with the tousled hair said after rea
ding the parchment. “Every Een must come. Even the soldiers and the helpers. All are to feast at the table of our brother.”

  “No!” Kendra cried. “Don’t do it.”

  Every brother turned to gaze at her.

  “Kendra!” Oki squealed. “B-be careful. The timel—”

  “It’s a trap,” Kendra declared. She knew Oki was worried about the fabric of time, about disrupting the future. But how could she think of such things? This wasn’t a story in a book anymore. Standing behind her were a hundred and fifty Eens—real, living Eens—and they were about to go to their doom.

  Thunger lowered himself to one knee and looked solemnly at Kendra. “These past weeks I have watched you, child. Not once have you stepped out of line, nor betrayed my confidence.”

  “Then you believe me?” Kendra asked.

  “I believe that you think this is a trap,” Thunger answered. “But I do not see this trap. I see a world of wonder, a palace of peace.”

  “It’s a trick,” Kendra urged.

  “Listen, child,” Izzen said. “We shall go and dine with our brother. And if it is a trap, we are six wizards to one, with an entire army at our command. He cannot harm us, even if he wished.”

  “You don’t understand,” Kendra persisted. “His magic is strong—”

  Izzen raised his hand and Kendra’s words caught in her throat. The matter had been settled.

  If the outside of the palace had seemed magnificent, then the inside was even more so. If you had seen it, then you might have been reminded of a Romanesque castle, for the palace had high, arched ceilings, recessed galleries, and tall, austere doorways. Yet unlike most castles, this place was not built of ordinary gray stone, but of pure white marble.