Kendra Kandlestar and the Crack in Kazah
Page 13
It took them some time to follow the Wizard Greeve through the corridors. It’s like a maze, Kendra thought with a shudder. By the time everyone was assembled in the opulent banquet hall the sky had reached full dark, with a round moon glowering down from a round window above.
In the very center of the hall was a crystal-white cauldron on a pedestal. Around it, arranged in radiating circles, were curved, white tables to seat the large assemblage. And now, amidst this lavish splendor, there came swirling from the cauldron the most intoxicating and tantalizing aromas. Even Kendra, despite her apprehension, felt her nose twitch at the redolent smells.
Everyone was seated, with the six wizard brothers guided to the innermost circle of tables, closest to the cauldron. Kendra, Oki, Gayla, and Clovin sat at the next ring, right behind Leemus.
It was the first time Kendra had been able to talk to her companions in weeks. Frantically, she whispered, “We have to get out of here.”
“Yeah, I missed you too,” Gayla retorted. “How about a hello or ‘How have you been for the last six weeks?’”
“How about we’re all going to die if we stay here?” Kendra snapped.
“Oh, don’t think of eggs,” Oki mumbled, and Clovin added a chatter for good measure.
“Are you sure you’re not wrong about everything?” Gayla asked Kendra. “I mean, look at this place. It’s amazing. Maybe the history books got it wrong.”
Grendel Greeve took to the pedestal and, in his hooded white robe, almost seemed to glow. Standing tall and magnificent, he raised his staff and proclaimed, “Welcome, Brothers, welcome all, to my domain. For many moons you have journeyed the wilds of the world, far from your homes and loved ones. But now your travails shall receive just reward. Now you shall know what is coming to you.”
With these words said, he lowered his staff into the great cauldron and began to stir—vigorously—and as he did, what had been a pleasant, delicious aroma began to turn sharp and bitter. It was as if the room started to spin (Kendra clutched the table to steady herself) and the white all around them began to evaporate, like sheets of paint peeling from the walls, revealing rough gray stones. The cauldron had changed too, from dazzling white to rock as black as death, and now the Wizard Greeve—his own robe having shimmered to the color of midnight—stirred his pot like a creature possessed, his eyes glowing fierce red and a chortle cackling in his throat.
There was a louder sound, though. It came from the cauldron itself, a high-pitched wail that grew in intensity, like the sound of a teakettle coming to a boil.
“Y-you’re right, Braids!” Gayla cried over the shriek. “We have to get out of here!”
Kendra looked desperately at the Een army and then at the rest of the elders. They were all frozen, as if captivated in some sort of trance. Quickly, Kendra scurried under the table, which was beginning to show its true form: a crude block of stone supported by two pillars.
“I said we have to leave, not hide!” Gayla yelled.
“We’ve got to get Leemus!” Kendra called over her shoulder.
She came out the other side of the table and with a wave of her wand yanked Leemus’s chair so that he tumbled backwards with a crash. Another motion of her wand pulled him across the floor and under the table to where Oki, Gayla, and Clovin were anxiously staring at the cauldron.
Kendra looked at it too. The sinister stone urn was beginning to splinter and crack, and through these fissures she could see its contents glowing angry and hot. The whole cauldron was swelling, like a balloon. The shriek grew to a painful, unbearable whine. At any moment Kendra knew the black kettle would burst and cast its dreadful curse.
“Quickly—flip the table!” Kendra shouted at Gayla.
Together they raised their wands and turned the table on its side with a heavy thud. They ducked and took cover—just as the cauldron shattered in an explosion of burning light. The curse, like a vicious and frenzied creature escaping from its cage, screeched across the banquet hall. Kendra felt claws of light smash against the table; even though it was made of stone, it trembled from the impact. Panic-stricken, Kendra squeezed her eyes shut.
Only seconds later, the hall had fallen into complete silence. Kendra opened her eyes, rose to her feet, and—even though she had known all along what would happen—gasped.
They were completely surrounded by monsters.
UNGERS, GOOJUNS, ORRIDS, IZZARDS, KRAKES—it was like being in the middle of a nightmarish sea of claws and fangs, fists and tails. With a quiver, Kendra realized that each brother who had been struck by the curse had been transformed into a separate creature, and his regiment along with him. Now she watched, frozen in horrific shock, as these monsters of Een began to stretch and groan, finding life in their new and disfigured forms.
The Wizard Greeve was still on his pedestal, straddling the now-shattered remains of his urn. He seemed more savage and wild than the creatures he had just created.
“Go forth, Brothers!” he screeched, his eyes still burning red. “Seek the lands of Een! Hunt its pathetic people and bring them before me. We shall cast them through my door of doom, and they will be Eens no more! Together we shall bring the Days of Een to an end!”
A jubilant chorus of grunts and groans came from the throng of monsters. If they remembered that they had been Eens, they seemed not to care.
Greeve tilted back his head and cackled so loudly that the whole dark hall echoed with the sound. Then he pointed a long and crooked finger at Kendra and proclaimed, “Let the hunting begin.”
Every beady eye in that wretched room now turned towards her. At her feet, Oki was trembling uncontrollably and Gayla was sitting against the overturned table with a look in her eyes that Kendra couldn’t decipher. It was like she was in another world. Then Clovin chattered, and Leemus sprang to alertness, his own trance broken. He rose to his feet, tall and mighty, staff clenched determinedly in one hand.
Kendra saw Greeve’s eyes flash with momentary fear. Leemus murmured a spell, at the same time bringing his staff against the floor with such a tremendous thump that the whole chamber rattled. And then—for just a moment—every creature around them seemed to freeze.
“RUN!” Leemus boomed.
With a chatter, Clovin led the way, bounding across the chamber and scurrying through the swarm of crooked limbs. At first, Gayla didn’t budge. Kendra clutched her by the hand and pulled her after Clovin. Oki came next, and Leemus took up the rear. They had just reached the entrance to the banquet hall when the freeze spell snapped and the monsters sprang to life. Leemus slammed the two mighty doors behind them with a wave of his wand and cast a locking spell.
“It won’t hold them long,” he announced.
They raced through the palace—which, of course, was a palace no more, but the dark and dismal temple maze of the Wizard Greeve. Between them and escape was a jumble of twisting passages, dead-end corridors, and false leads, but with quickness of foot and sureness of direction, Clovin led them through each and every turn. Not once did he make a mistake—as Oki explained afterwards, the squirrel was in many ways still wild, and he followed every instinct to lead them towards safety.
Behind them, Kendra could hear the doors of the banquet hall burst open and the sounds of the monsters as they surged through the maze, roaring, growling, squawking.
Then Kendra saw the front gate of the temple, though now it looked very different from the one they had entered earlier that night. She could tell, even from the inside, that it was the Door to Unger. Its mouth—a set of wooden planks that looked like a row of teeth—now began to shut, just as the haunting sound of the Wizard Greeve’s cackle emanated from the heart of his wretched temple.
Clovin dashed through the closing door, Kendra stumbling behind, desperately yanking Gayla along with her. She felt a whoosh past one ear, and out of the corner of her eye saw a long spear rattle off the stones in front of her. The very weapons that had been fashioned to protect Eens were now being used against them.
Once
past the door, Kendra turned and saw Leemus flick his long staff at the onslaught of spears, rocks, and other weapons—instantly, the deadly projectiles were transformed into a harmless shower of cherry blossoms that fluttered lightly to the ground. Then, urging Oki through the door with one hand, the old wizard bustled through himself, just as the great teeth slammed shut with the sound of grinding stone and splintering wood.
Kendra looked up at the monstrous stone face that was the door to the maze.
No one will ever walk out that way again, Kendra thought. How many Eens will be tossed through this terrible door over the next two thousand years? How many will know Greeve’s curse?
She was still holding Gayla’s hand, and now she looked up at the bewildered Teenling, the girl who would one day be her mother. My brother’s going to go through there, Kendra thought. And maybe my father, and you . . . .
She couldn’t bear the thought of it.
“Come,” Leemus urged. “We must make haste.”
It was still night, but in the moonlight Kendra could see that the plain before them was no longer one of grass and flowers, but rather a stretch of desolate rock. Across this they raced, desperate to put as much distance as they could between them and the temple.
At last, Leemus brought them to a stop. They were all panting, even the wizard. He sat cross-legged on the rocks and closed his eyes.
“This is no time to meditate!” Kendra cried. “They’re coming after us. And if they take us back through that door, we’ll all be—”
“Hush now,” Leemus said in a stern but calm voice. “If I am to save us—and all of Een—I need you to be silent.”
Kendra clutched Gayla’s hand and watched the wizard. He placed his staff on the rocks in front of him, raised his hands to the air, and began to hoot. It would have sounded comical if the situation had not been so grave.
Moments later, Kendra heard another hoot, this one coming from the skies. She looked up to see five dark shapes fluttering against the light of the glowering moon. Owls! With a rustle of feathers, the large and feathery birds landed alongside them. Without even opening his eyes, Leemus rose to his feet and placed his hand upon the soft, white head of the largest bird.
The owl cooed; something seemed to pass between the wizard and the majestic bird. Kendra plucked anxiously at a braid; she could hear the rumble of Greeve’s creatures, and knew that the Door to Unger had opened once again to let them pass through and continue the chase. At any moment they would be swarmed by the ferocious army.
At last, Leemus opened his eyes and turned to Kendra and the others. “This is Prospero, King of Owls. Do not fear him, my friends; for while his beak is fierce, his heart is as gentle as a feather. He will deliver us from this wretched domain.”
No one argued with the wizard’s proposition; indeed, the owls did not seem half so savage as the creatures they could all hear in the distance. Quickly, they each scrambled onto the back of an owl, and the regal birds took to the indigo skies. As they ascended, the roar of the monsters grew dim. Kendra looked down at the Greeven Wastes and, with a sigh of relief, watched its dark expanse melt into the night.
Straight as arrows, the owls flew. How many hours passed, Kendra could not be sure.
Was that what we were meant to do? Kendra wondered, her mind reeling. To save Leemus from the curse?
Then there was Gayla. Kendra just couldn’t shake that look she had seen in her mother’s eyes. Something had seized hold of her the moment she had witnessed the curse of Greeve—and it gave Kendra a chill.
Kendra awoke with a start and realized that her owl had come to a landing. She climbed down and rubbed her eyes; she must have nodded off sometime during the night. The sun was just beginning to break over the horizon, and standing in front of them was the twisted tree that served as the home of Leemus Longshanks. The old wizard scratched each owl on its feathery head, thanked them with a hoot, and sent them off to find their rest.
Kendra stared at the wizard. If Gayla had changed, then so had he. His face was sunken and stained with tears. And there was something else as well: over the course of their flight, Leemus had plaited his long shanks of hair into four braids.
“I wear them in your honor,” the old wizard told Kendra. “You acted as my Eengels, just as the stars foretold.” The old wizard then turned and gazed intently upon Clovin. Leemus bowed before the squirrel, then pronounced, “As for you, my fine furry friend, you too have proven your worth in the dark temple. As such, I hereby declare you Captain of Een, protector of all within this land. May you serve it well, with all the grace and dignity of our people.” After a pause, Leemus smiled and said, “And now, my cosmic travelers, sleep awaits you in the house. Go find your dreams—you have deserved them.”
“Won’t you rest, Elder Longshanks?” Kendra asked.
“That name is now a stranger to me,” Leemus said. “I shall go evermore by Leemus Longbraids. And I cannot rest, kind Eengel—for even though I might, the enemies of Een will not. Hunt us they will, until every last Een has been cast into that dark maze and perverted into a creature of claw and fang.”
“It’s the end of Een,” Gayla mumbled, looking dazed and overwhelmed.
“Fret not the future,” Leemus told her. “Nor pine for the past. Een will be saved yet.”
“What are you going to do?” Oki asked.
“I shall build a wall,” Leemus declared. “One that will protect Een from the outside world, one that cannot be battered or broken.”
“One that can’t even be seen,” Kendra murmured.
“Why, yes,” Leemus said. “An invisible curtain of magic.”
NOW YOU KNOW, dear reader, how the land of Een came to be. You know why the Eens wear braids, why they built the curtain, even why they turned into such a fretful and frightened people. If you find it a lot to ponder, then you can only imagine the thoughts whirling through Kendra’s mind.
Eventually our young heroine slept, but not long and not well. Perhaps you have had those nights; no matter how exhausted you might be, your slumber offers you no rest. For Kendra, it was a sleep plagued by a nightmare, the same one, over and over again. In it, she was standing at the edge of Een, watching her mother walk away into the distance, only to be suddenly devoured by a ferocious Unger. It was a dream Kendra had had many times. But this time it was different. This time her mother was the fifteen-year-old Gayla. This time her mother was someone she actually knew.
At last she awoke and sat up. They were all sharing one large bed, and—to Kendra’s surprise—Gayla was also awake. The feisty Teenling was staring at the wall, that strange fire in her eyes.
“They’re . . . they’re Goojuns and Ungers and . . . everything,” Gayla said. “It changes everything. All this time, it’s been us against them. But they are us. Krimson always said he thought there was a connection. I used to tell him to shut up and stop playing fairy tale. But he was right. He was right.” She gave her head a shake and looked directly at Kendra. “I’ve got to get back, I’ve got to tell him. I’ve got to set everyone right.”
“What if they don’t believe you?” Kendra asked. “And what about your brother? And about marrying Burdock?”
“That . . . that doesn’t matter any more,” Gayla said. “It seems such a small problem now. Don’t you get it? The world is so much bigger than us, Braids. And there’s got to be a way to make it right.”
Kendra suddenly realized what that look was in Gayla’s eyes. It was obsession. Gayla had witnessed firsthand the curse of Greeve and it had galvanized her, transformed her into the very person Kendra had always heard about: the loud, outspoken sorceress with the “strange” ideas about the history of Een.
And she will fight with the elders of Een, Kendra thought. She will try to convince them of the truth. But no one will believe her—not even Uncle Griffinskitch. And then one day she’ll leave Een and . . . .
Kendra felt a sob welling in her throat.
I’ll be alone.
“I . . . I
have to get some air,” Kendra told Gayla.
She scrambled out of bed and wandered down into the kitchen. She was grateful to find the house empty and quiet, and she sat at the table and rested her head against the rough wooden surface.
How can I let her go? Kendra asked herself.
Then she noticed at her elbow a bottle of Eenberry ink, a feather pen, and a roll of parchment. It was as if they had been set there purposely for her. Before she knew it, the pen was in her hand and she was scrawling out a letter. For an hour she wrote, thoughts and feelings pouring onto the parchment until at last, exhausted, she fell asleep, cheek against the drying ink.
When she awoke, it was to a rough jostle from Gayla. “Come on, Braids.”
Kendra’s eyes flickered open. She slowly lifted her head to see Gayla and Oki staring at her.
“You have ink on your face,” Gayla told her. “What’s that you’ve been writing?”
Kendra looked down at the parchment. “Oh, nothing,” she said, quickly folding the note and sticking it in a pocket.
“It’s time to go home,” Gayla announced. “Back to where we belong. Me to my time, you to yours.”
“Shouldn’t we wait to say good-bye to Elder Longbraids?” Oki asked.
“He’ll expect us to be gone,” Gayla said with a sort of smile. “We are Eengels after all. It’s in our nature to mysteriously disappear.”
“Oki and I need to get back to the Forests of Wretch before we jump,” Kendra said, thinking of her friends on the cloud ship. “That’s where we started from. That’s where my master will be looking for us.”
“I’ll make sure you get there safely,” Gayla assured her.
It was a quiet walk through the forest. So much had happened that no one really knew what to say—especially Kendra. All she could think about was that she was about to be separated from her mother, and she had no idea if she would ever see her again.