Captives of the Fern Queen

by Sarah G. Byrd

  Cook went down on her knees.

  “Not again,” she said hoarsely. “Not again.”

  The Brute tore himself loose and made a lunge of his own. The hunting dog managed to evade him, but the power of the huge dog’s lunge knocked it off its feet, big as it was. In seconds, the Brute’s jaws locked onto its neck, and the fight was over.

  They waited. The Brute lay motionless on top of his enemy.

  “Not him too,” Cook moaned.

  “He’s alive—I can see him breathing,” Luff said quickly.

  “Call him, Cook,” Janna urged.

  “Caramel,” Cook said, then gathered her strength. “Caramel,” she called louder.

  “He’s getting to his feet. He’s coming,” Janna announced gleefully, as if the others couldn’t see for themselves.

  The big dog limped his way up the mountain to Cook. He moved slowly and in evident pain, but he came. The fernwoman sat on the ground and petted him gently, talking to him under her breath. She ignored the others and so did Brute, who licked her hand and whined like a puppy, a boulder-sized puppy.

  “We’ve got to go,” Petten said, breaking into the happy reunion.

  Immediately, Brute’s lips curled back in a savage snarl. Alissa and Janna gasped, but Cook only laughed and put her hand on the Brute’s shoulder.

  “It’s okay. He’ll be good.”

  The glowering dog looked anything but good.

  “How did you get to know the Brute?” Luff asked, cautiously eyeing the animal.

  “He’s not the Brute,” said Cook, getting to her feet with a grunt. “He’s Caramel. He used to come by the kitchen at night and growl for food when he was a puppy. He was as much a loner as I was, so I started saving him scraps. He and I had what you might call a secret friendship. It got to where he’d come late at night and sleep with me in my room off the kitchen. I always let him out early without anyone knowing about it. He was the only creature I liked until—”

  Cook stopped in embarrassment, glancing at Janna.

  Janna smiled at her, but Petten interrupted another happy moment.

  “We have to go. The castle woodsmen always trail their hunting dogs, and if they catch up to us, we’re in trouble. They’re as mean as their dogs.”

  He was telling them things they already knew again. Janna gave him one of her best scowls, and the ends of his mouth twitched upward. Baffled, she started climbing with the others.

  “You know,” she said soon, desperately trying to hang onto the more positive feelings they had experienced a few minutes ago, “The Brute, I mean, Caramel—”

  She paused and then said, “Cook, a caramel is a little brown candy that is sweet and gooey. This dog is not sweet and gooey. I can’t call him Caramel!”

  “What if we combine the two names? Brutish Caramel or Caramel Brute?” suggested her father.

  Cook didn’t object, so Janna continued. “Well then, Caramel Brute could have turned out to be an enemy, but instead he saved us from those dogs. I’m thinking he’ll protect us from those horrible woodsmen too if—”

  She stopped when Alissa wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. Cook glanced fearfully over her shoulder, while Luff muttered something incomprehensible and kicked a rock out of his way. Oops.

  “I’m also thinking that Caramel Brute might find us something to eat. He’s a hunter, you know, and we’re going to need food.”

  “We can’t quit climbing to hunt food,” Petten disagreed. “The woodsmen could be right behind us.”

  Janna didn’t waste energy on a mere scowl this time. Her mistake had been bad enough. Petten didn’t need to add to it. She glared at him, and when the young man grinned openly in response, she clenched her fists.

  Her father intervened. “When we do hunt for food, I’m sure that Caramel Brute will be a great help to us.”

  Janna unclenched her fists, somewhat mollified.

  However, they had slowed down as they talked, which was unacceptable to their scout.

  “Let’s quit talking and keep moving.”

  Janna took several deep breaths in order to control her temper, but it must have been clear what she was doing. She heard Petten laugh out loud.

  It wasn’t fair. She was the one trying to be positive, instead of negative, but she was the one who was angry while Petten was laughing.

  Chapter 16

  Cook’s Collapse

  They climbed another hour and a half. The lack of trees made it possible to see farther ahead, though Janna didn’t find the view particularly encouraging. Large rocks dotted the top of the mountain like broken teeth. When the wind blew through them, there was a wailing sound, as if the mountain hurt when cold air touched its teeth.

  If it’s this bad in the middle of the day, I hate to think what it’s like at night.

  King Luff finally called a halt.

  “We must rest,” he said, puffing wearily as he spoke.

  They sank in a group heap right where they were. Luff and Janna were tired, but Alissa and Cook looked as if they might faint. Neither of them was accustomed to this much exercise. Alissa lay down and closed her eyes, but youth and general good health were in her favor. After a brief rest, she sat up and felt better.

  Cook didn’t move from where she had dropped onto the ground. For years, she had lived and worked in the Fern Queen’s kitchen, rarely leaving it. Everything she needed had been delivered to the kitchen door. Caramel Brute whined and shoved his nose against her, but she didn’t respond.

  “I’ll find something to eat. It will give us energy,” Petten said as he got to his feet.

  Janna couldn’t resist pointing out, “I told you so.”

  Petten laughed as if she’d said something hilarious, and Janna unexpectedly wanted to cry. She didn’t understand it. This was Petten, for high home’s sake. The two of them always teased each other. He liked to joke and laugh, and so did she. Get over it, she scolded herself, but that didn’t prevent her from sticking her tongue out at the scout, though she waited until he’d turned away. No sense giving fresh fuel to his newly warped sense of humor.

  He called back as he left, “I’ll be quick.”

  Nobody responded. They were too tired to care how long he took, Janna supposed. She was tired too, but she couldn’t quit inspecting the mountain below them. No woodsmen came in sight, but her stomach had twisted into another tight ball before Petten got back.

  He was holding the ugliest, most unappetizing roots she’d ever seen.

  “They’re clean,” he said as he passed the roots around. “I washed them in the stream.”

  Janna held her root with the tips of her fingers. It was murky orange and was an irregular C-shape. It was dirty, no matter what Petten said, but she was too hungry to be picky. She took a bite, finding to her relief that the orange root tasted better than it looked. Gratefully, she ate the whole thing, feeling stronger as the food nourished her. The others were faring the same.

  Even Cook ate her root and sat up, which pleased Caramel Brute. He grabbed one of her hands in his mouth though his teeth didn’t leave the slightest impression on her skin. Cook rubbed behind his ears affectionately, but her face was serious.

  “Go on without me,” she ordered in her old abrupt manner, and everyone looked at her in dismay.

  “We most certainly will not!” sputtered Janna.

  Cook’s face softened, but she didn’t lose her determination. “I’m given out and it’s too cold…for me.” Her voice faltered with those last two words, but she made herself finish. “I’m not like you. My body’s marked. I am fern.”

  Her hands lifted with shame and weariness to cover her face.

  There was dead silence. Big green veins traveled over Cook’s arms and face. Her eyes had not lost their dull green hue. She had risked everything for them, but she was still a fernperson, and none of them knew exactly what that meant.

  Alissa lifted her head. “Please heal Cook,” she asked simply.

  It was the right thi
ng to ask. Janna felt strongly that it was the right thing to ask. She took her turn as, one by one, they spoke on Cook’s behalf. Even Cook tried. She said, “Please,” and then stopped, but the silence that followed was full of unspoken words.

  “Let’s move on,” Luff suggested.

  “She isn’t healed yet,” said Janna, who had wanted instant results, but she stood with the others and started off once again.

  By silent agreement, they moved very slowly to conserve their strength, helping Cook along as much as possible. Petten and Luff practically carried her over the steeper places, with Caramel Brute following at their heels, assuring them with a steady rumble that if they hurt his friend, he’d hurt them.

  They kept going at a slow but steady pace for another hour. Then they had to stop. They had reached the high rocks and the wind had picked up, buffeting them as if they were blocks it wanted to knock down. They had to hold on to the larger of the rocks just to keep their footing.

  “Over here,” Petten called. “I found a place to rest.”

  He had gone exploring off to one side and found a cave that narrowed as it dug into the mountain. They didn’t care to go very far into the inky darkness. Sunlight glanced in at the opening, and they huddled in it, out of the worst of the wind.

  No one spoke. Their strength was gone again and their spirits were low. If the trackers were close, they’d catch them. There was nothing they could do about it. Even Caramel Brute was tired. He limped into the cave, plopping down in front of Cook, and was more startled than anyone else when the voice came.

  “If you seek help, you may find it here.”

  Everyone scrambled to their feet. The voice was so totally without emotion that the meaning of the words wasn’t clear. Cook grabbed and held her dog, who was growling a low, disgruntled sort of growl. It had been years since anyone had snuck up on him, and he resented it. The dark figure at the back of the cave waited silently.

  Finally, Luff gathered his wits enough to answer.

  “Who are you?” he asked cautiously.

  “I am Madow, a servant of the Maker,” came the reply, which should have been reassuring but wasn’t.

  They didn’t know what to think. The voice wasn’t emotionless in the sense of calm and controlled. It was emotionless in the sense of a void, as if feelings had never been a part of it.

  Compared to this person, Cook’s a drama queen, Janna thought and wiggled excitedly. She had been as startled as the others when the voice first spoke, but at the same time, every old story she’d ever read had raced through her mind. She wouldn’t have left the cave then for anything.

  “Will you let us see you?” she asked.

  Obligingly, the figure moved out of the darkness into the light, and Janna wasn’t the only one who cried out in awe. The figure that had spoken to them was a horse, a small cream-colored stallion.

  Caramel Brute was not awestruck. The big dog’s growls deepened as the stallion came closer, and he pulled at Cook’s hold on him. She wouldn’t be able to restrain him much longer.

  The horse walked slowly forward, coming to a stop in front of the dog, who was almost as big as he was. Gently, he lowered his muzzle, letting Caramel Brute sniff his breath as animals liked to do. Then he rubbed the side of his head against the dog’s head in trusting friendship.

  Caramel Brute quit growling. He was almost comical in his complete capitulation to the enemy. Wagging his tail, he glanced around the cave, then made a great show of sniffing a rock.

  The stallion lifted his head and said, “The Fern Queen is dead. You need not fear her any longer.”

  “Dead!” they said in unison.

  “She was in the kitchen mixing a potion. A small fire started next to her, and she threw onto it the liquid she was holding. The potion exploded when it hit the flames, turning into poisonous fumes that spread quickly, killing everyone in the castle.”

  The horse explained readily enough, but it was difficult for them to grasp what it was saying. Their tired minds groped after the meaning in the emotionless words. They stood stupidly silent for a few minutes. The horse waited patiently.

  Then Janna said, “It was Cook’s grease fire that made the potion explode, and we heard it. Remember that boom? But I don’t understand who set the dogs after us if everyone in the castle was killed.”

  “The dogs broke free when they weren’t fed. They were vicious by nature and trained to track and kill.”

  Understanding sank in and with understanding came a tremendous sense of relief. They might be exhausted, hungry, and cold, but at least the Fern Queen was gone. She could no longer threaten them with her potion. They smiled at each other.

  “What do we do now?” asked Alissa, breaking the happy spell.

  No one had a ready answer except the stallion, who responded in his monotonous voice.

  “You may follow me through the tunnel in back of this cave to a valley where you will find rest and food. Everyone who serves the Maker may follow me, but no marks of evil are allowed to enter the valley. It is a holy place. I will return to guide those who wish to come.”

  With those words, the cream-colored horse disappeared into the darkness behind him.

  Chapter 17

  Healing

  Smiles disappeared as they realized what the horse had said, and everyone avoided looking at Cook. She couldn’t enter the valley, not with the green veins and eyes that marked her as a servant of the evil Fern Queen. What should they do? What on Montaland should they do?

  Lines of concentration crossed Petten’s forehead. Luff’s face creased with anxiety. Alissa’s eyes closed as she lifted her face, and Cook slumped miserably.

  Janna was scowling again. How could you! It’s mean; it’s just plain—

  As she fussed, she shoved clenched fists deep into her pockets . One of her hands touched something, something that had been her secret for a long time. Janna thought hard and, as she thought, her face cleared. She had a plan and it was a good plan, well worth trying in her opinion, though it would be embarrassing.

  “I know something we can try.”

  The others turned to her, puzzled, and Janna rushed through her explanation, hoping everyone would believe her and not ask questions. She didn’t want to answer questions. The horse might come back any minute.

  “After I crawled out of the Fern Queen’s tunnel, a high lizard guided me to her nest and gave me one of her jewel eggs, which I certainly didn’t want to break, but she made a hole in it, and after I drank the jewel juice, I wasn’t hungry anymore.”

  Janna could tell her jumbled words had been confusing, but she hurried on.

  “When I got my new dress, I transferred everything from my old pockets to the new ones.”

  Her father opened his mouth, and Petten actually got a word out, “What—” but Janna didn’t give him a chance to say anything else.

  “I’m guessing, Cook, that the Maker isn’t rejecting you. I’m guessing he wants to heal you. Let’s see what these will do.”

  With that, she drew out of her pocket the fragments of eggshell that she had saved. In the dim light of the cave, the bits of yellow shell shone like tiny suns, and the questions on everyone’s lips fumbled to a stop as they stared at them.

  “What do I do?” Cook asked doubtfully.

  Janna could tell it was hard for Cook to believe anything would succeed in taking the ugly green marks off her body. Help her, she begged but tried to sound confident when she spoke out loud.

  “We’ll crush them, and you can drink them down. How far away was that place where the stream came out of the ground?”

  “Not far,” answered Petten as he sprang out of the cave.

  “How will he carry water?” wondered Luff.

  “He’s a scout. They’re clever. He’ll figure something out,” Janna said.

  If there was one thing they had plenty of, it was rocks. She spread the eggshell on a flat rock, then took a round one and carefully ground the pieces into dust, bright yellow dust
that shimmered as the sunlight touched it. Petten returned, carrying water in a rock that was deeply indented in the middle. They mixed the shell dust carefully into the water. Trembling, Cook held the makeshift cup in her green-veined hands. She said one word, but it was not directed toward any of them.

  “Please,” she said, then drank.

  Cook could never tell them what the eggshell water tasted like. “It was fresh, real fresh,” was the best she could do.

  Beyond doubt, for everyone to see, it worked healing in her poor marked body. A brightness came over her face and arms as if the sun were shining from inside of her. It didn’t last long, but when it left, the ugly green marks of slavery to the Fern Queen were completely gone. She turned to them and smiled. Without those green welts, her face was broad and good-natured. Brown eyes beamed at them.

  There were tears in most of the eyes that smiled back. Janna and Alissa ran to hug her. Petten paused awkwardly at first, then gave in to take his turn, while King Luff unhesitatingly gave her a warm hug and a kiss on one cheek. They didn’t notice at first that the horse had returned.

  “Oh,” said Janna when she saw him. She nudged her father, and the group gazed joyfully at the cream-colored animal.

  He nodded solemnly, then said, “Come,” and led the way into the back of the cave, where there was a door-like opening. The opening led into a tunnel, and Janna had to force one foot to follow another as she entered it. I don’t like tunnels.

  The underground floor was level and smooth, and it was a good thing it was, because they couldn’t see a thing. The situation was all too familiar to Janna, but at least she wasn’t alone this time. She held on to her father, Alissa held on to her, Cook held on to Alissa, Petten held on to Cook, and they shuffled along in a slow line.