by M Norton
“Look,” Navashay pointed to the ground at their feet.
Krys looked down to find the quill. He picked it up. “It must have fallen out of the journal.” He turned the feather over. As he did, he felt it quiver and realign itself the way it had been laying on the ground. He tried to turn it again, and once more, it returned to its former position. “What?”
“Do you think it’s telling us which way to go? To follow the journal?” Tension edged Navashay’s voice.
Krys turned to Peter, who shrugged.
“Could be,” Krys said.
Peter grabbed his food sack and pack and slung them over his shoulder. “Let’s go!”
Krys and Navashay picked up their own bags and stood next to Peter.
With the quill lying in his open hand, Krys allowed it to orient itself. The nib pointed in the direction they had just come. Krys looked to the sky and the position of the sun, then back at the feather. “Almost due west,” he said. “I say we follow the feather then.”
“Doesn’t look like we have much of choice,” said Peter.
“I agree,” Navashay said.
They backtracked through the forest as they followed the quill’s movements in Krys’ hand.
Fighting their way through the thick brush, they soon found themselves at the hollow where Krys had discovered the key.
“Get down!” Krys dropped to his belly behind thick brush, Peter and Navashay following his lead.
The lizardmen were on their knees, hands buried deep in the hollow. The fairy globes were smashed on the ground. The lifeless fairies lay contorted amongst the fragments of their once protective globes.
“Poor little fairies,” Navashay whispered.
Krys’ gaze stayed on the lizardmen. “What are they doing?” He turned to Peter.
“They must have followed the clues in the journal like we did,” Peter said.
Peering through the brush, Krys watched the creatures’ movements. He then noticed the journal lying on the ground next to one of them, the key, perched on top.
“There hasss to be ssssomething elsssse in here,” one of the lizardmen hissed in the distance.
“What a wasssste of a good hiding placccce.” The other creature continued to dig in the hollow.
Krys studied the area. “I’ve got an idea,” he mouthed the words in near-silence.
Peter rubbed his hands together. “What do I need to do?” he whispered back.
Navashay turned to Krys. “Why is Peter always doing everything?” She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know much magic at all, do you?”
Krys blew out a breath and hung his head. “You have no idea!”
Navashay looked at Peter. “And you let him get away with it?”
“Do we have to talk about this right now?” Krys pleaded.
“How will he ever learn if you always do everything for him?” Her voice rose a bit too much.
“Shh.” Krys waved his hands. “We don’t want them to hear us,” he whispered through clenched teeth.
Peter gave her a sheepish grin. “It’s worked pretty good so far.”
Navashay lifted an eyebrow.
“Believe me, Navashay,” Krys said. “It’s better if Peter does this. If I mess it up, we’ll never get the journal and key back.”
Navashay exhaled and looked from Peter to Krys. “What do you have in mind?”
Krys outlined his plan to his friends. When he had finished, Peter crawled from behind their bush and moved slowly across the spongy ground toward the hollow.
“I hope this works!” Krys whispered as he held his breath and watched as his friend inched closer to the creatures, still distracted by the hollow.
Krys nudged Navashay. “Peter’s in position.”
“There’ssss nothing elssse here,” the first lizardman said, turning around to find itself face to face with Peter.
“Clastaliad borimizod gindis.” Peter pointed a finger into the lizardman’s face.
Even from a distance, Krys could see the creature’s hideous gaze clouding over. Then, its body ceased all movement as the immobilization spell took affect. The other retile whipped around. Before it could react to its comrade’s plight, Peter cast the spell again.
“That should take care of those slimy snakes for a while.” He smiled over his shoulder and waved Krys and Navashay forward.
While Krys grabbed the journal and key and shoved them into his belt pouch, Navashay gathered the fragments of two globes and laid them on the ground in front of her. She pointed to the creatures. “Go ahead and shrink them, Peter.” She gave Krys a sour look.
Peter pointed a solitary finger at one. He opened his mouth, then turned to Krys. “Why don’t you do one?”
Krys waved his hands. “Oh, no, no, no,” he said. “This is too important. If I mess this up, we could be in real trouble.”
“Just repeat the spell after me,” Peter said. “As long as you concentrate, you’ll be fine.”
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” Krys frowned.
“Well, okay. But, I’m only going to shrink one of them. Maybe the immobilization charm will hold the other one until we get into the castle.” Peter looked at Krys, his eyebrows lifted.
“Will you two quit messing around and get this over with?” Navashay yelled.
“Okay,” Krys said. But he knew things could get real bad, real fast. He sighed.
“Ready?” Peter asked Krys.
“Not really.” Krys tried to swallow, but his mouth was bone-dry.
“The spell is Cala rolatis,” Peter said. “Make sure you concentrate on what you’re doing.”
Cala rolatis, cala rolatis, cala rolatis. Krys ran the spell through his mind. He concentrated on the correct pronunciation of each syllable. He turned and nodded to Peter. In unison, they lifted their hands and spoke the spell.
The lizard bodies distorted and began to shrink. In moments, they were as small as the tiny fairies sprawled on the ground.
Krys felt pride surging through him. He’d done it.
Each of the boys scooped up a lizardman and took them over to where Navashay waited. Krys put his thumb and forefinger around the creature’s tiny neck but fought the desire to wring it after what the creature had done to the old woman and his cottage. He drew them away; he was no killer.
Navashay gathered the fragments of one of the shattered globes. With great care, she placed each piece in place around one of the creatures. Before she positioned the last scrap, Peter touched her hand.
“Wait a minute.” He waved his hand over the small figure. “Oosa-rasto.”
Krys smiled when he realized what spell Peter had cast. “You made him forget. Brilliant!”
“This way, he won’t remember what he was doing.” Peter frowned. “That is, if it works on lizards.”
When Navashay fitted the last piece of the globe, Peter cast the spell to encapsulate it. “Gatsom.” He nodded as the fragments solidified into a single piece.
Navashay looked up at Peter. “If the freeze spell can wear off, won’t the shrink spell do the same?”
“No. Eventually, the temperature of the air will allow them to wake up again. But, once a shrinking spell has been cast, it can only be undone by a counter spell. It’s a completely different kind of spell.” He flicked the globe with his index finger. “Unless they know the counter, they’ll be in there for a long time.”
After three tries to successfully complete the spells, Krys inspected his work, relieved. He crawled to the tree to try to figure out what the lizardmen had been doing. He found no clues and decided they hadn’t discovered a significance for the key. But then, neither had he. When both globes were deposited in the hollow, Peter placed a large rock against the opening and they started toward the large tree at the moat again.
“Wait.” Navashay ran back to the hollow.
“What is it?” Krys asked when he and Peter arrived a moment later.
Navashay bent over the tiny, lifeless fairies and scooped the
m up one at a time. She placed each one in her satchel with care. “We don’t know if they’re really dead. They just look that way,” she said, “—just like everything else here.” Her large green eyes looked into Krys’. “I can’t leave them here, maybe injured, for something to gobble up when the curse is broken.”
Krys looked sidelong at Peter. Both raised their eyebrows and shrugged.
When Navashay had finished, they resumed their journey.
Krys, brought up the rear. He stopped and turned around at a sudden whining noise behind him. He saw nothing, even though he was sure he’d heard the sound.
“What’s wrong, Krys?” Peter jogged back to his friend.
“I don’t know. I thought I heard something.” He stared into the shadows. “I must have imagined it.”
Peter slapped Krys on the back. “Come on, we’re all a little nervous.” Peter glanced around. “The quicker we get into the castle, the better.”
“Yeah,” Krys said. But when he turned in the direction of the castle once more, he couldn’t help feeling something was wrong.
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Chapter 11 - The Crossing
Krys trudged through the brambles. The sounds of rustling leaves and snapping twigs pursued them. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, but he pressed down his fear and continued, ever-vigilant, and as quickly as he could get through the thick flora, toward the castle.
They approached the large tree by the moat again. Peter dropped his bags and pulled out a large coil of rope. “Are you still okay with this?” Peter asked Krys.
“Not really. But let’s do it anyway.” Krys felt his gut tighten as he glanced at the limb so far above his head.
Peter draped the rope over his chest like a sash, and walked to the immense tree trunk. He grasped two protrusions and ascended the tree quicker than Krys thought possible.
The large branch bobbed as Peter crawled outward. He stopped when he reached the center of the moat below and uncoiled the rope. He secured it to the branch and let the free end drop into the moat. It snaked through the air as Peter swung it back and forth. Finally, it caught in the briars on the edge near Krys.
Peter peered into the moat.
Krys squinted at his friend. “What’re you looking at?”
“I don’t know if you can see it from where you are, but there’s something really big down there,” Peter said.
Krys and Navashay rushed to the edge of the moat. Krys pushed away the thick brush and strained to see what Peter pointed to. The sight of the thorny protrusions on the vines trailing over the edge made him dizzy. He glanced at his healed hands.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then peered into the depths once more, seeing nothing but the vicious plants. He moved to another vantage point. “I don’t see anything but the thorns and vines.”
Navashay shook her head at Peter. “What is it?”
“Come up here.” Peter hung off the branch, close to falling. “You need to see this for yourself.”
Krys looked down into the moat and then at Peter, way up in the tree. “I don’t think so!”
“Get up here,” Peter yelled again.
“You’re crazy!”
“Don’t make me come down there and make you!” Peter said with a mischievous grin.
“Yeah, like you could!” Krys said, trying not to smile.
Krys jumped back as Peter started to move back across the limb toward the large trunk.
“I’ll do it. You know I will!” Peter said.
Navashay turned to Krys. “Why don’t you want to go up there?”
“Because I can’t,” Krys said through clenched teeth.
“You’re afraid of heights, aren’t you?”
Krys gave her a sick grimace. Heat crept into his cheeks. He turned his gaze upward again to prevent her seeing his embarrassment. “Why can’t you tell me what you see?”
“Because—I don’t know what it is. It’s huge, and dark, and it looks like some kind of animal. I don’t know if it’s something that could hurt us when we try to cross the moat.”
“How can anything hurt us? It’s all asleep.” But Krys knew plenty could hurt them—as it already has.
“I think it moved,” yelled Peter. “What if it wasn’t affected by the curse?”
“He’s going to make me do this, whether I want to or not,” Krys muttered as he approached the wide trunk and glanced up at the tree—the very tall tree. His stomach gurgled.
He dropped his pack and placed his palms flat on the rough bark, letting the thought of the climb ricochet around in his head. New fear coursed through him. Expelling a sigh, he wiped his sweaty palms on his breeches. He drew in a deep breath, grabbed hold of knobby protrusions in the bark and began inching up the tree.
“I’ll follow behind you,” Navashay said.
Krys heard the thump of her satchel as it hit the ground and imagined his own body splatting in the dirt beside it.
Fear kept Krys from looking down, but he tried to look into the moat as he went. Maybe he could see whatever Peter thought was so interesting without him having to climb all the way out to him. But as much as he wanted himself to, Krys saw nothing. He climbed to the large branch and inched forward. The bark crumbled under his grip and fell; a wave of queasiness flooded over him. He clamped his legs around the branch and dug his fingers into the bark.
Krys gasped in air and his heart pounded. He peeked at the ground. What a mistake. His stomach twisted and his head swam with dizziness.
“Get out here, you’ve come that far already,” Peter beckoned him forward, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
“I can do this!” Krys whispered, trying to gain confidence from his own words. He blew out his breath and closed his eyes, steeling himself against his dread.
Lifting his head to stare at Peter, Krys dared not move. He felt Navashay’s presence behind him, causing him to move even farther away from the sturdy trunk. Bile rose into his mouth and he swallowed hard, but he couldn’t force his fear down.
Guessing Peter recognized his distress, Krys watched his friend crawl along the branch toward him, stopping part of the way back to the tree.
“You’re doin’ great, but you’ve got to come out this far or you won’t see it,” Peter said.
A gentle nudge in the center of Krys’ back came from behind him.
He took a few deep breaths. Perspiration ran down his forehead and stung his eyes. I can do this—I know I can. He reassured himself again. He wiped his sweaty brow as best he could on the shoulder of his tunic.
His hands gripping the bark, he inched forward a little more. Don’t look down, don’t look down. Just keep looking at Peter. He advanced at a slow pace, breathing hard.
The branch creaked and swayed; Krys dropped forward, clutched it with arms and legs, and pressed his body against the bark. “Quit moving the branch!”
“I’m doing my best not to,” Navashay said.
Peter grinned as Krys and Navashay joined him above the moat. “I knew you could do it,” he said to Krys.
Krys gave Peter a wary nod.
“Look at that!” Peter pointed down.
Krys clung so tightly to the branch, his knuckles turned white. He peeked down through half-closed eyes and saw a large animal lying motionless in the bottom of the dried-up moat. “What’s that?”
“I don’t know,” Peter said.
Navashay leaned closer to Krys and peered over his shoulder. “That’s the moat serpent!” She pointed at the beast. “Most fortresses have them. They’re very efficient guards. You fall in a full moat, you’re not getting away from one of those.” She leaned a little further past Krys and toward the moat. “Hmm. No wonder we didn’t see him. It’s at least twenty feet from the ground to the bottom of the moat, and he’s nestled up against the side. There’s no way we could have seen him from the ground unless we’d have leaned way over the rim.”
“Ha! Not me,” Krys said. He stared at the sheer enormity of the beast—almost fi
fteen feet long. Its black hide was dappled with patches of charcoal and brown.
“He’s not going to be happy when he wakes up,” Peter said. “I read somewhere that the water helps pacify them a little. When they dry out, they are more than just vicious.”
“Hey, I thought you said you saw him move.” Krys eyed Peter with skepticism.
Peter stared hard at the creature far below them. “Well, I thought I did.” He shrugged.
“It’s possible you saw him breathing. He is alive, after all.” Navashay craned her neck. “I wonder if there’s more than one in there?”
Peter shrugged.
“Okay, can we go back down now?” Krys indicated the ground.
“Why don’t we just cross from here? We’re already halfway.”
“The branch doesn’t reach all the way across the moat.” The volume of Krys’ voice rose.
“Oh, it’ll be easy. We’ll just drop down the rope and swing the rest of the way,” Peter said.
“Pass. Besides, I left my pack down there.”
“I did too,” Navashay said.
“Well, okay, but I’m going to.” Peter threw his leg over the branch and turned around.
Krys looked over his shoulder at Navashay. “I’m ready to get down now.”
She scooted backward toward the trunk. Krys followed, wanting to move faster than she, but was unable to.
He reached the sturdy trunk and started down, keeping his eyes on the rough bark. He didn’t dare peek at the ground.
The branch above strained as Peter moved to the rope suspended over the moat.
Krys knew his friend wouldn’t have been able to resist the excitement of crossing the moat in that manner.
Navashay reached the ground. When she was out of the way, he quickly descended the rest of the way. When he placed his feet on solid land, he released a huge sigh of relief. He felt the urge to kiss the ground, but decided against such a move in front of Navashay. He’d already been a total coward in the tree.
“Hey, can you bring my stuff too?” Peter yelled from high above.
“Sure.” Krys returned to the abandoned packs and handed Peter’s equipment bag to Navashay. He hefted his friend’s food sack to his shoulder. The weight of it startled him; it was much heavier than his own. “How did you carry this?”