He jumped back. I’m not gonna be able to help anyone if I get caught as well. He scanned the ground for some kind of weapon and spotted a large, jagged rock. He scooped it up and circled the tree. Taking his chance, he smashed the rock down on one of the waving tendrils and cleaved it right off.
The vine juddered from the impact, and then the thick green plant rippled with a surge of energy before healing the jagged mess Buzz had made.
Buzz raised the rock even higher and smashed it down on another part of the vine. He pounded it again and again. The plant healed itself even faster in response and whipped out another tendril to try to catch Buzz.
“They’re getting tighter.” Mary yelped. “Do something!”
“I’m trying.” Buzz panted. His limbs felt tired and heavy, and sweat made the rock slippery in his palm. He raised it again, ready to bring it down on the vine, but a beeping sound stopped him.
The vines around Mary’s left hand and wrist were suddenly parting. She wiggled her fingers as the vines released more of her arm.
“Wait, how did you do that?” Buzz asked.
Mary frowned. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You definitely did,” Ayiyi said. “I saw it with all twelve of my eyes.”
The watch on Mary’s wrist began to beep again, and then a tiny comb and brush on the end of a long metal arm popped out of the device and attacked the vines, swiftly untangling them until Mary’s whole lower arm was released.
The comb and brush swiveled on its axis and the metal arm extended even farther and began to work on the vines that bound Mary’s upper arm.
“What is that thing?” Buzz asked.
Mary was looking rather pleased with herself. “You know I said I upgraded my watch? Well, this is one of the adjustments.”
“You added a comb?”
“It is more than just a comb. It’s a mechanical unbraider,” Mary explained. “It’s genius, actually. I really should patent it.”
“Right,” Buzz said.
“You’re not convinced, but ask your mom or sister,” Mary said. “It takes ages to undo your hair when you have lots of braids. My unbraider could be a hair revolution.”
“Okay, fine,” Buzz said. “I’ll tell them all about it once we’ve found the Keeper of Myths, saved Sam, got rid of those gods in Crowmarsh, and dealt with El Tunchi.” He edged closer to the vines to see what they would do. They lay perfectly still; they seemed to be pulsing a lot less. The unbraider swiveled on its axis again and the vines shrank even farther back, as if scared of the comb and its sharp teeth.
“The vines must have activated the watch when they caught my wrists,” Mary mused. “Then the unbraider did its job and began unbraiding.” She was now completely free and stepped away from the vines, shaking the last of them off her leg.
Ayiyi was also wriggling free, and with a few more jerks and tugs managed to extricate himself entirely. He wagged a skinny leg at the vines as he scuttled away from the tendrils. “Heh, you didn’t like that, did you? You twisty turny menaces.” He cackled loudly. “A bit of technology and you got scared.” He turned to Mary. “Girly, I’d shake your hand and say thanks, but I don’t know what else that watch does.” He eyed it suspiciously. “Does it squish spiders?”
Mary laughed. “No, but it does play music and have a flashlight.”
Buzz coughed. “You can thank me if you like, Ayiyi. I mean, I’ve only been leaping all over the place with a heavy rock for the past few minutes.”
The spider took a bow. “Brother, I am forever in your debt.” He peered quizzically at him. “Buzz, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“Let me help you. Both of you. I may be an old forgotten god, but the Forsaken Territories are not a safe place for a couple of young mortals. I know that much.” He looked out over the horizon. “I heard you say earlier that you’re looking to find the Keeper of Myths.”
Buzz nodded. “We need the Keeper’s help to find our friend Sam. We’re looking for the wisdom path.”
Ayiyi stroked his chin (at least Buzz thought it was his chin) with one of his hairy legs.
“The Keeper won’t help you for free,” the spider pointed out. “She’ll want payment.”
“Ha, I told you the Keeper was female,” Mary crowed.
Buzz ignored her. “Payment?”
The spider nodded. “But all I see are your two long hands.”
“Long hands?” Mary examined her own palms in confusion. “They’re average-sized, to be fair.”
“He means empty-handed,” Buzz explained. “My mum says that sometimes. It’s an old Jamaican saying.” His chest suddenly felt tight as he thought about his mother. It was like his rib cage were suddenly too big for his body. He’d left Mum and Tia alone in Crowmarsh. What if El Tunchi had been back to the house?
“Eh, no matter,” the spider said. “You’ll just have to hope that you collect some good stories along the way. The Keeper of Myths loves stories. Whoever tells the story holds the power—remember that. Come, I will show you the way.”
They walked farther along the mountain path, the air gradually becoming cooler as the sun began to drop in the sky. The spider was fast, his eight legs making easy work of the path ahead of them, and Buzz and Mary had to trot to keep up with him. Buzz winced as a stone in his shoe continued to cut into his foot, but he refused to say anything. I’m not going to be the one to slow us down.
Rolling slopes stretched out before them. He could see patterns of deep grooves cut into the ground, filled in with white chalk. To Buzz, the land looked like an army of sleeping giants covered in grass and small alpine flowers. It was beautiful, but there was no sign of anything other than more grass and more flowers.
“Ouch!” Buzz swore under his breath as the stone in his shoe jabbed him again.
Ayiyi stopped. “The hunter in pursuit of an elephant does not stop to throw stones at birds.”
“What?” Buzz asked.
“Don’t get distracted,” Mary translated. “Get rid of the stone in your shoe and keep up.”
Hopping on one foot, Buzz removed his sneaker and tipped the stone out. “How long will it take to get to the Keeper of Myths anyway?”
Ayiyi looked him up and down. “Even with both of your feet on the ground, a long time.”
“We don’t have time.” Mary kicked at a pebble on the path. “Why didn’t the World Tree get us closer to the Keeper’s temple?”
Buzz laced up his shoe. “Ratatosk said the tree was suffering because Berchta stripped it of so many branches. Maybe this was the best it could do?”
Ayiyi had wandered away from them and was watching, with increasing concentration, a strange-colored bug that had landed on one of the purple flowers. He pounced on it and stuffed the insect into his mouth.
“I thought we weren’t supposed to get distracted,” Buzz reminded him.
“Who says I’m distracted?” Ayiyi was still chewing. “What I do know is that we don’t need no World Tree to help us.” The spider swallowed the last of his meal. “However, we do need to move faster, or you’ll never find the temple.” He wagged a leg at them. “The long way round can sometimes be the shortest route to success.”
“That makes no sense.” Mary was looking a bit queasy as she watched Ayiyi pick an iridescent wing from his teeth.
“You’ll see,” the spider replied. “Come now, we go this way.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Forge
I-ya-a ya-o sa, nom-be, ya-o, ya ya-o sa-a nom-be,
a nom-be, sa-ka be-ne sa-bi-na, nom-be ya ya-o sa, a, nom-be
Ayiyi’s voice rang out in song as the green of the rolling slopes gave way to a narrow causeway of rough stones and scarps. To Buzz it almost looked like someone had taken a mallet and smashed a hole through the mountain. The path was so narrow that he, Mary, and Ayiyi had to walk in single file.
They escaped the causeway and found themselves on a hilltop. A cool breeze gusted there, and it chased away the
humidity. At the base of the hill, Buzz could see what appeared to be an abandoned settlement. The huts looked tired and unloved, their thatched roofs threadbare. Looking to his left, he could see more ancient hills crisscrossed with silvery strands of water and a few horses standing on the bank of one of the streams.
Buzz sniffed. Woodsmoke and the smell of hot metal traveled on the wind. It filled the air. Following his nose, Buzz turned around and saw one small hut standing all by itself. Smoke pumped out from the hole in the top of the thatched roof, and the pounding rhythm of metal on metal filled the valley with its strange music.
“Good, good.” Ayiyi rubbed two of his spidery legs together. “He’s still going. Stubborn as they come, that one.”
“Who?” Mary asked.
“Gu,” Ayiyi answered. “God of iron to some, but alas not many.” The spider licked two of his legs and began smoothing down the bristles on his head. “That’s why he makes his home here in the Forsaken Territories.”
Ayiyi focused his twelve eyes on Buzz and Mary. “Now listen up,” he warned. “It’s no coincidence that a god of iron is very often a god of war as well. They are two sides of the same coin.”
“Okay,” Buzz said. “But what are we doing—”
“So we go carefully. He might be spiky.” Ayiyi paused and then began to chuckle. “Yes, spiky like the weapons he makes.”
Buzz pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ayiyi, why are you bringing us to meet a god of war, a god of iron? A god of anything? We don’t have time for this.”
Mary put a hand on his arm. “I think I know,” she said. “Look around. What do you see apart from that hut with the smoke?”
“Nothing,” Buzz said. “The settlement is abandoned except for a few horses.”
“Exactly,” Mary replied. She turned to face Ayiyi. “That’s why you’ve bought us here. For the horses.”
“Like I said, the long way round can sometimes be the shortest route to success. But we have to convince Gu to lend them to us first.”
The sound of pounding metal suddenly stopped, and looking down the hill, Buzz saw a towering figure emerge from the hut. The man wore an iron breastplate, and in his hand he held a heavy hammer. His face was entirely covered in metal. The skin was overlaid by a fine mesh, and through the metal grids Buzz could see two red eyes.
“Ayiyi, you sly old rascal, what do you want?” Gu’s voice was deep and slow and not friendly.
“Sly old rascal.” Ayiyi sounded indignant as he scuttled down the hill. Buzz and Mary raced to keep up. “Old friend, you mean.”
Gu’s grip tightened on his hammer. “If you say so.”
“I need your help, Gu.” Ayiyi beckoned for Buzz and Mary to come and stand next to him.
The god’s steady gaze traveled over to Buzz and Mary. “What are a pair of mortals doing in this place?”
“They are on a quest,” Ayiyi explained. “The details aren’t important, but the—”
“We’re looking for the Keeper of Myths,” Buzz interrupted.
Gu shook his head and muttered something under his breath about time-wasters and silly games.
The hairs on Ayiyi’s body bristled, and he raised his front two legs as if to attack, his pedipalps fully extended in the air and his thorax lifted. “I didn’t completely catch what you said, God of Iron,” Ayiyi growled. “Maybe that’s for the best. We share a story, you and I. I would hate for that story to be at an end.”
Gu met the spider’s gaze but broke eye contact first. “You are right. That was rude. I haven’t had company for a while. A quest is a quest.”
Buzz frowned. He didn’t understand how the gerbil-size spider had managed to put Gu in his place, but he had.
The god of iron turned to face Buzz as Ayiyi lowered his legs. He seemed a whole lot less scary now. If anything, Buzz thought he looked weary, but it was hard to tell under the metal mask the god wore.
“Welcome. If you are friends of Ayiyi, then you are friends of mine.” Gu flung his hammer over his shoulder and Buzz ducked just in time. “I’m guessing you want me to endow you with some magical gifts, a dance scepter, perhaps, or snake iron.” Gu’s dull red eyes lit up. “It has been a while since I have been asked for help by mortals, but the god of iron is as skillful as ever.”
“Um . . .” Buzz began.
“Actually,” Mary said, “we just want to borrow some of your—”
“Your knowledge and expertise,” Ayiyi interrupted. “We would never presume to ask for anything else.” The spider opened all twelve of his eyes very wide. “Although, brother, if you were to forge a mighty sword or ax for my friends, we would surely be humbled by such an auspicious gift.” Ayiyi bowed low, his hairy head touching the ground.
“Wait a second,” Mary said.
Buzz trod on her foot. “We’re on a quest. We need stuff,” he hissed.
Mary closed her mouth.
Gu nodded and beckoned with a battle-scarred hand for them to follow him into his hut. His forge was dark and smoky, and Buzz could see rusting iron hoops, dangling metal rods, swords, daggers, and axes hanging from the thatched roof. As he looked for longer, Buzz could spot horseshoes with carefully painted patterns and beautiful pieces of jewelry dotted between the sharp blades and rods of metal. In the center of the room there was a heavy block of iron with a smooth flat top. An anvil. The sides of it were covered with symbols that were etched into the metal.
“I try to keep busy,” Gu said, and in the dark of the hut it felt like a confession. “The number of those that worship me has dwindled, but still I smelt and cast and hammer. If I stop doing this, I might disappear entirely.”
“Why didn’t you go to the Pantheon?” Buzz asked.
Ayiyi shot him a warning look, but it was too late. The question had been asked.
“Stupid games,” Gu spat. “That’s what Berchta likes—has always liked. But guess what? I’m not playing.” He carefully placed his hammer next to the anvil, his fingers tracing the symbols he found there. “I’ll stay here with the honesty of my iron and anvil, not the two-facedness of that rabble.”
Gu reached out and plucked a simple belt made of interlocking metal links from the wall. He ran a hand over it, and the dull metal began to shine like black gold.
“It’s beautiful,” Buzz murmured. “What does it do?”
Gu laughed. “Well, that depends somewhat on the person who wears it. But each link is connected to the intrinsic magic of iron ore.”
Mary frowned at it. “The intrinsic magic of iron ore. What does that even mean?”
“Take it and you’ll find out.” The belt dangled from Gu’s callused hand.
Mary looked unsure, but took the belt from the god’s outstretched palm and looped it around her waist. “Thanks.”
Gu turned in a slow circle, looking at the other strange objects that lined the walls of his hut or hung from the thatched roof. Buzz followed his gaze, taking in a three-bladed sword, an iron rod shaped like a snake, and an ax with a broad flat edge that shone sharply.
Gu suddenly nodded and took two thick metal cuffs from a shelf. They were rough-looking, and the iron was green and mottled with age. “Oh, man,” Buzz muttered.
Gu’s red gaze rested on him. “Disappointed, mortal?”
“Well, they’re bracelets.” Buzz couldn’t even be bothered to pretend.
“Eh, these children,” Ayiyi said from behind them. The spider shook his head. “So ungrateful. And they’re armlets, not bracelets, boy.”
“I’m not ungrateful. It’s just that there’s a three-bladed sword up there and—”
“Stop.” Gu pointed to his anvil in the center of the room. “Think you can pick that up?”
Buzz stared at the hunk of metal and its strange carvings. “No.”
“Try.”
“Can I have the sword if I lift it?” Buzz asked.
“If you still want it,” Gu promised.
Buzz stepped forward and squatted down like he’d seen weightlifters do on TV
. Gripping either side of the anvil, he yanked upward and . . . completely failed to budge it even a centimeter.
“Hee, hee, ho,” Ayiyi chortled. “You should see your face.”
“It’s not funny.” Mary came and tried to lift the anvil with Buzz. It made no difference.
“The metal’s getting warm.” She released the anvil. “Can’t you feel it?”
“No, not really.” Buzz tried again. The anvil still refused to move, but beneath his palms Buzz could feel a sudden flare of heat. The symbols on the anvil glowed red, and the metal became scorching hot.
“Ow!” He let go of the anvil with a yelp and blew on his hands.
“Are you okay?” Mary examined Buzz’s palm and then glared at Gu. “What’s your problem? That’s gonna blister.”
Gu held out the armlets to Buzz. “Now try picking up the anvil with my . . . what did you call them? Bracelets.”
Buzz shook his head. “No, thanks.” He continued to blow on his hand.
“Things will be different this time,” Gu said. “Trust me. Take the armlets and pick up the anvil.”
“Go on, Buzz.” Ayiyi twelve eyes were piercing. “Think of the stories you will tell if you can lift that hunk of metal.” The spider’s voice pounded in Buzz’s head like Gu’s hammer, and he found himself taking the cool armlets from the god. They were heavy in his palm but weighed nothing once he slipped them on his wrists.
“Buzz, you’ll hurt yourself,” Mary hissed, low enough that only he could hear. “We still don’t know if we can trust these guys. Whatever they say, they’re players of the game, just like Berchta.”
“I know,” Buzz whispered. “But if we’re going to get Sam back, we’ve got to learn the game and beat them at it.”
He took hold of the anvil. It was warming up again, but this time the heat did not scorch his hands—it seemed to pass straight into the armlets. The metal cuffs began to tingle with the anvil’s heat, and then the warmth passed up his arms and through his whole body. The tingling around his wrists became more intense as the symbols on the anvil glowed brightly, but still Buzz felt no pain in his hands. He felt nothing.
No weight at all as he lifted the anvil clear off the ground.
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