by Joel Ross
Once we dig chambers, we’ll be snugger than a mugger.
“We don’t have time for—” Ji grunted, unable to lift the pack. “Stupid dirt.”
With one three-fingered hand, Roz swept the pack onto her back. “You can’t blame dirt for being heavy.”
That’s a cleverwise saying! Nin announced. “You can’t blame dirt for being heavy!” You are wise as a troll, Missroz.
“She is a troll,” Sally said.
A half troll, Nin told her. Nobody is a truetroll until they Begin.
“Begin what?”
Being truetrolls, Sallynx! The Beginning is a thunderclap passagerite that turns ogres into trolls. A grand ceremony of—
“The knights will come back soon,” Ji interrupted. “We need to move. Is everyone ready?”
We were hatched ready, Nin said.
“Where are we going?” Sally asked Ji.
“The Ogrelands,” he said.
“Wait!” Chibo pointed toward the horizon. “Is that what I think it is?”
Sally gasped and Roz groaned, but Ji didn’t see anything scary, just a moon peeking over the hills. Then he realized: it was the fourth moon rising tonight.
The kumiho moon.
“I—I can’t hear them,” Sally said, lifting her head to the night sky.
“Not yet,” Roz said, her voice shaking.
Sally’s ears flattened. “If we reach the moon shadow of the hill behind us, they can’t follow.”
“Forget the hill.” Ji grabbed Chibo’s hand. “Run for the manor.”
Roz grunted softly. “Are you sure?”
“We can’t reach the manor before they catch us,” Sally snarled. “It’s too far.”
“Come on!” Ji said, trotting toward Turtlewillow Manor with Chibo. “Move!”
“What are you thinking?” Roz asked.
“You heard Ti-Lin-Su. We need to get to the Ogrelands without being seen!”
“Oh, good plan!” Roz said, lumbering closer. “Everyone stick with Ji!”
“What plan?” Chibo asked her.
“Plan on dying,” Sally growled, scanning the night for fox-demons.
“The Ice Witch is in the Ogrelands,” Roz explained, trotting along the dirt path toward the cornfield. “And there’s only one way to get there.”
We can think of ten ways! Nin announced. Fastmarch, bustleclimb, slithercrawl, amblestroll—
“Without being seen,” Roz added. “Or being caught by kumiho.”
A prickle of fear sounded in Nin’s mind-speak. What about the Gravewoods?
Sally frowned as she loped downhill beside Roz. “What’s that?”
Humans call it the Shield Wall.
“Oh!” Roz said. “Is that actually real?”
Deadlyreal, Nin said. Killingreal.
“I’ve read legends about a Shield Wall.” Roz steadied the jouncing backpack as she jogged. “They say that the first Summer Queen built a barrier around the Ogrelands, to protect the humans after the war.”
The fearful prickle of Nin’s mind-speak turned to sadness.
“Who cares?” Sally barked. “That doesn’t explain why we’re heading to the manor.”
“We’re heading for the goblins,” Ji told her. “For the goblin pen at Turtlewillow. We’ll use their tunnels to travel underground.”
“And go straight to the Ogrelands without being seen!” Sally finished. “The kumiho can’t follow us and the knights won’t even think of the tunnels. That’s actually a great idea.”
“If we get there in time,” Ji said.
Sally followed the path between cornfields, loping on all fours for a few steps before straightening. “And if the goblins help us,” she said.
“They’ll help us,” Chibo fluted. “Goblins are polite that way.”
When a hair-raising yowling sounded in the distant darkness, Sally veered from the dirt path. “This way!”
Cornstalks whipped Ji’s face as he followed. He tightened his grip on Chibo’s hand, staying close to the shadow of Roz’s bulky form.
What’s chasing us? Nin asked, from the backpack. We can’t smell them!
“Kumiho,” Sally said.
Kumiwho?
“Kumiho!” Roz rumbled.
Oh! Nin said. Ho. Kumiwhat are kumiho?
“Would you shut your mandibles?” Ji panted, stumbling on the uneven soil.
“Fox-demons,” Roz explained. “Summoned by the queen to hunt us.”
The queen is too weak to demoncall, Nin said. After the Diadem Rite, it would take longmonths for her to summon again.
“She seems to have recovered quickly,” Roz said, flattening the cornstalks.
The shamoon said months and months.
“What’s a shamoon?” Chibo asked.
“An ogre shaman,” Roz said.
Not a shaman, Missroz! Not a shawoman, either! A shamoon.
“Well, either your shamoon’s wrong,” Ji said, “or Brace summoned them.”
Sally raised her paw. “Shh! Horses.”
Ji held his breath but only heard the crackle of cornstalks in the breeze. The lumps on his forehead itched. He peered toward the distant manor and saw the peaked tops of two clock towers.
“They’re heading the other way,” Sally said.
“At least we get to meet more ogres,” Chibo fluted. “That’s some aws.”
“Some aws” was how Nin used to say “awesome.” Ji snorted and told Chibo, “Just what we need. More numbskulls.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not excited,” Roz rumbled. “We all know how much you missed Nin. You sang lullabies to the urn every night.”
“I did not,” he said, tugging Chibo toward the manor.
“They weren’t always lullabies,” Chibo said.
“They weren’t even singing,” Sally added.
Chibo giggled.
Sally stepped from the cornstalks onto a fallow field. The light of the lowest moon—the fourth moon—glinted off farm buildings. She sniffed the air, then slunk across the field into a terraced rock garden. The sound of wind chimes reminded Ji of the jangle of warhorses’ harnesses. The kumiho didn’t yowl again, though. Maybe they’d lost the scent, or maybe they were crouching in the shadows, ready to pounce.
“I smell goblins,” Sally said, stalking into a dahlia garden. “The pen isn’t far now.”
“It will be a relief to be safe with goblins,” Roz said.
Ji plucked corn silk from his hair. “That’s the first time any human ever said that.”
“They’re lovely,” Roz said. “And polite.”
“That just means they say ‘please’ before eating you,” he said, which wasn’t really fair.
Goblins looked weird, with their four arms and beaver teeth and bobbly knees, but they’d always treated Ji kindly. The ones at Primstone Manor wore collars, dug trenches for the nobles, and loved good manners. And the ones in Summer City had helped Ji and the others escape after the Diadem Rite.
“There,” Sally said, pointing across the garden with her snout.
A stone building squatted in a hollow past the garden. A heavy iron gate stood open in the nearest wall. Back at Primstone Manor, the goblins lived in a dirt-floored pen inside a “folly”—a small building constructed to look like a fake ruin—but this looked worse.
This looked like a prison.
Bamboo poles and coconut husks were piled in the yard. Ji didn’t see any goblins. He didn’t hear any, either. Nor birds, nor crickets, nor frogs. A strange silence strangled the night. Like the whole world was holding its breath. . . .
“Run,” he whispered.
“Pardon?” Roz asked.
Sally’s big eyes widened. “RUN!”
Roz lumbered across the garden, her heavy tread crunching on the pebbled path. Ji dragged Chibo behind him, terrified of every patch of shadow.
Ow, ow, ow! Nin said, as the backpack slammed up and down. Rozquake!
“Stop talking!” Ji snapped, stumbling onto a circular lawn in t
he center of the garden.
A fountain rose where six pebbled paths came together. Marble sundials bordered the lawn. The whole place shone with tranquillity—until Roz stopped short and seemed to growl and whimper at the same time.
Ji didn’t growl. He didn’t whimper. He didn’t make a sound. He simply stared in frozen horror as a kumiho prowled from behind the fountain.
12
FISH-BELLY-WHITE FUR GLISTENED in the moons-light. Milky eyes gleamed above a mouth that drooled black goo. Muscular shoulders bunched like a jaguar’s, and snake heads stared at Ji over the demon’s sinewy body.
“Get back!” Roz roared, spreading her arms. “Back, back!”
Ji stumbled away, tugging a petrified Chibo with him. “We need to reach the goblins!”
“Stop!” Sally yelped. “There’s another one behind us! There’s barely any scent, but—”
The hissing of nine snakes silenced her. The sound shivered Ji’s soul and he sent his dragonsenses into his chest, groping for the slightest ember of heat. Anything to spark a fire. He felt nothing but chill and dread—and Chibo’s hand trembling in his.
“The—the goblin p-pen is up ahead,” Ji stammered. “We can make it.”
“We can’t,” Sally snarled. “We’re not fast enough!”
“You are,” Ji said.
Her tail lashed. “I won’t—”
“Fly!” Ji grabbed Chibo around the waist and flung him upward. “Go!”
An emerald glow bathed the world and the snake-hissing stopped. The kumiho froze, white eyes staring.
“Sally, get to the goblins!” Ji snapped. “Nin, start buttstinging!”
We are, Sneakyji! Overagain and overagain! We can’t hurt it!
Shadows shifted when Chibo darted away through the air. The first kumiho licked its teeth with a thick tongue and pounced.
Sally leaped sideways, silent and shadowy.
Ji crashed frantically through the dahlias.
And Roz hurled a marble sundial at the demon.
The kumiho danced aside, dodging easily . . . but the sundial shattered on the paving stones. Chunks of marble flew. One sharp piece spun at the fox-demon and opened a wide gash in the creature’s flank. The wound oozed black blood, and an anguished howl split the night.
Sprinting toward the pen, Ji caught sight of the second kumiho. “RUN!” he bellowed. “Runrunrun!”
Roz thundered toward the goblin pen. Ji scrambled behind her, his mind strobing with panic. He saw flashes of flowers—of Roz—of the path—of green wings against a moons-lit sky.
When the howling stopped, Ji glanced at the wounded kumiho and his heart froze. The fox-demon wasn’t wounded anymore. The slash had already closed—completely healed—and the second kumiho stalked along beside the first.
Roz flung another sundial against the fountain. The two kumiho scattered to dodge the chunks of marble, and Ji fled.
Through the palm trees.
Down the slope.
Into the hollow.
Across the yard and toward the stone goblin pen.
His lungs burned, his clawed feet scraped the dirt. Fear flickered like lightning in his mind—but the gate was only thirty feet away. A green glow shone on the stone wall, which meant Chibo was nearby, while Sally crouched in the corner at a pile of bamboo poles.
And Roz faced the two kumiho, her tattered pink dress flapping around her, gripping a bulky tree limb like a cudgel.
Roz, who sipped hibiscus tea. Roz, who lost herself in books. Roz, who’d been raised to be a governess. Gentle Roz, clever Roz. The only measure of goodness that Ji ever needed. Protecting Sally and Chibo from two demonic horrors. Protecting Nin, who’d finally returned to them. Protecting Ji.
He didn’t flinch when Sally touched his elbow and gave him the bamboo pole. He just nodded. She was right. Whatever happened, they’d stay together.
A moment later, he and Sally flanked Roz—Ji held the bamboo pole while Sally bared her hobgoblin claws. A half dozen kumiho tails hissed and Ji’s knees turned to water. Fear gripped his throat, but he didn’t flinch, not this time.
Sneakyji! One bite from their tails will deathslay any of you. How do we—
“Everyone move slowly toward the goblin pen,” Ji murmured. “Once we’re inside, we’ll slam the gate—”
One kumiho sprang at Roz while the other charged Sally. Ji jabbed at the kumiho that was attacking Sally and missed by two feet. The kumiho tore the bamboo pole from his hands with jagged teeth and leaped for his throat.
“Yii!” he yelped, stumbling backward.
Too slow. A swiping claw slashed his leg. Pain flared and he fell to the ground, screaming in terror.
The kumiho opened its jaws, black spittle spraying. Ji couldn’t see anything except teeth and a thick, ropy tongue. Then Sally landed on the kumiho’s snout with both rear paws.
She drove its muzzle into the dirt and yelled at Ji: “RUN, YOU LAZY LIZARD!”
He scooted backward as she dodged the snapping jaws and swiping claws—and Roz smashed the second kumiho with her cudgel. Bone crunched and the demon skidded across the yard, scrambling for purchase.
Then it shook its head, its bones reknitting.
The first kumiho drove Sally toward Ji—toward the gate. Three bloody lines soaked Sally’s torn sleeve where a claw had sliced through skin. She moved fast, though. Inhumanly fast, blocking slashes and bites, while Nin mind-shouted warnings. Ant lions swarmed the kumiho’s eyes to block its vision, so the demon spun sideways to see with its tails. Snake heads hissed and snapped at Sally.
“Inside,” Sally gasped, dodging wildly. “Chibo, inside! Shut the gate, Ji!”
The snake heads blurred at her. Nothing was as fast as a striking demon-snake, not even a hobgoblin. She couldn’t beat those snakes much longer—
The kumiho thumped Sally’s head with a powerful paw. She crumpled to the ground and moaned. The beast gave a victorious yowl and stood over her, mottled-white fur shining in the light of the four moons.
Sallynx! Nin blurted in mind-speak shrill with fear. Scamperfast, scamperfast!
A snake head lashed downward for the killing blow, and two things happened at once.
First, Ji lunged at Sally, trying to shove her away from the snake’s deadly fangs.
And second, Chibo screamed, “Bad demons!” and, wings glowing fiercely, dive-bombed the kumiho.
Ji lost his balance and sprawled on top of Sally, while Chibo crash-landed five feet away and lay there moaning, his wings glowing steadily. Sally’s furry body felt warm and muscular beneath Ji, but his skin crawled with a chill: the kumiho stood above him, snake tails hissing.
He imagined a burning puncture in his shoulder. He imagined venom flowing through him. Then the hissing quieted. And when Ji peeked at the kumiho, it was crouching away from him, teeth bared and tails lashing. It had retreated ten feet. Too far to reach him.
The other kumiho had done the same; it was pacing and snapping at Roz—from five feet away. Not attacking. Just stalking back and forth in the green glow of Chibo’s wings. What the heck? Why had they stopped when they’d won the fight?
“Who cares?” he muttered to himself, rolling off Sally. “Roz, get Chibo!”
Roz grabbed Chibo, while Ji hefted Sally into his arms. Her furry little form was dense with muscle, and it almost yanked his arms from their sockets. Still, he managed to drag her toward the gate while the kumiho prowled in agitation, like they were trying to gather the courage to attack. . . .
The pain in Ji’s shoulder radiated into his chest. He stumbled through the gateway into the goblin pen and collapsed, spilling Sally onto the dirt floor.
She grunted at the impact, and her eyes sprang open. “What—”
“The gate!” Ji gasped to Roz. “Close the . . .”
Chibo fainted in Roz’s arms and his wings disappeared into his hunchback. As the night darkened, the kumiho howled and bounded forward in a sudden attack—
Roz slammed the gate down, and ven
omous snake tails slashed and snapped through the bars. They missed Roz by inches as she stumbled backward. The demons couldn’t break through the gate, but that wasn’t what had stopped them earlier. Ji didn’t know what had stopped them. He tried to think about it, but the inside of the goblin pen kept swaying and shifting around him.
Are you stonesafe, Missroz? Nin asked urgently. Is everyone oh and kay?
“I’m fine,” Roz rumbled, her voice shaking. “Chibo fainted. Is—is everyone else unhurt?”
“Yeah,” Ji whispered, as the world dimmed.
“No,” Sally growled.
“What’s wrong?” Roz asked.
“It’s Ji.” Sally stared at his shoulder. “He’s been bitten.”
“Silly fuzzface,” he told her. “If they bit me, I’d be dead.”
Then he proceeded to die.
13
DIRT PACKED THE stillness of Ji’s grave. A fierce itch irritated his skin as scales erupted from his flesh. His knees cracked and his spine unfurled into terrible new shapes. His skull lengthened, his torso stretched, his legs fused. Poison swirled in his veins and his heart hungered for treasure, for gems.
Even their names thrummed with power:
Amethyst.
Lapis lazuli.
Beryl.
Citrine.
Malachite.
Turquoise, topaz, emerald.
Ji felt them in the tunnels beyond his grave, in the damp subterranean dark. He hungered to snatch flames from the gemstones, to warm his belly as if drinking spiced wine from a bejeweled goblet. He sensed animals scurrying in the tunnels. Warm-blooded creatures with souls that shone like opals and burned like rubies. Souls that flowed and shifted like fire. His crimson eyes weighed the souls and wanted to drink them, too. Golden antlers branched from the bony ridges on his brow and ten thousand scales shimmered on his body.
A dragon, a pearl, a diamond. Garnet and gold—
Death was surprisingly uncomfortable. First a chill seeped into Ji’s bones; then he burned or boiled. Maybe baked. There was a lot of jostling, and the sound of a hundred sheep coughing, ka-ka-ka. Finally, a sharp pain prodded Ji’s shoulder and water splashed his face and dripped in his throat.
Also, his nose itched.
Darkness swelled. Darkness tinged with torchlight. Darkness etched with spiraling patterns, strange designs carved into a stone wall. And some buttonhead kept groaning: Ooooaah, ooooaaah. Then Roz’s face appeared, except with a squarer jaw and sharper cheekbones, granite-flecked skin and a curved horn. But her eyes shone with a Rozziness that warmed Ji like a bonfire on a winter’s night. She looked anxious, though. Ji wanted to squeeze her hand and tell her not to worry, but he couldn’t move or speak.