Beast & Crown

by Joel Ross

  “Old flowerface is coming after us,” Sally snarled. “A clayfighter from the pond.”

  “Why?” Chibo fluted.

  “I guess he decided that we’re nonhuman enough to kill.”

  “Either that or he wants to give us a bouquet,” Ji said. “Piggyback time, Chibo.”

  Roz hefted the urn and Ji carried Chibo, scrambling after Sally as she prowled from the field into a stand of eucalyptus trees. A flock of parrots took flight, and Chibo raised his head and peered nearsightedly toward the sound of beating wings.

  “How far is the outer wall?” Ji asked.

  Sally leaped onto a branch. “Not far. And there’s only a few soldiers.”

  “The rest are in the city,” Ji told her. “Looking for us. Find a way out before flowerface catches us.”

  Sally peered into the night, her eyes big and her ears twitching. Ji stared toward the stony field, dreading the sudden appearance of the terra-cotta warrior. Listening for the clump of clay boots but hearing shouts of alarm from higher on the mountain, as people spotted the marching warriors and the spreading fires.

  “There’s a round door in the wall, covered by a grate.” Sally jumped to another branch. “Flowerface is fifty yards away, but he’s not moving anymore. He’s just standing there.”

  “Perhaps he’s wavering between hunting us or the goblins,” Roz said.

  “At least he’s the only one,” Sally said. “The rest of the warriors are smashing around the palace, trying to find the goblins.”

  “Can we do less talking,” Ji said, slightly desperate, “and more escaping?”

  There is no escape, Nin said. The clayfighters will kill all the goblins.

  “We must help them,” Roz said.

  “We can’t,” Ji said.

  “Jiyong, there are children.”

  “Goblin children,” he said. “Who cares?”

  An indrawn breath sounded from the shadows of Roz’s hood. She didn’t say a word, but Ji’s face pricked with shame. And he wanted to help the goblins, he really did. But what if the queen caught them before they reached Ti-Lin-Su? Then Chibo would die and Sally would die and Roz would die—and for what?

  For nothing. That wouldn’t save the goblins.

  How come Sneakyji decides what we do? Nin asked. He says Missroz is smarter.

  “She is,” Sally growled, still peering toward the stony field. “But Ji is a bigger jerk.”

  He is your stonefriend? Nin asked, and in his mind-speak the word thrummed with meaning: a friend as solid as a mountain.

  “He saved me from the tapestry weavers,” Chibo said.

  “He brought me books,” Roz said, “when they were my only hope.”

  Sally’s tail lashed. “He’s stone.”

  An ant lion marched onto Ji’s wrist. We trust you.

  “I hate you all,” Ji muttered.

  “Goblins are people,” Roz told him.

  “But they’re not human!”

  She touched his arm. “They’re still people—like Nin. Or like us, now. They deserve better than this.”

  “Like your brother Tomás deserved better,” Sally told Ji. “And my folks.”

  “And me,” Chibo said.

  “And all the weaver kids,” Ji said. “The ones I left behind.”

  He thought about stealing boot beads at Primstone Manor. He thought about his mother’s dream of him becoming a butler. He thought about what he’d felt when he’d touched the diadem—the urge to slaughter or enslave every nonhuman—and he thought about dozens of bald kids, living and dying beneath the looms.

  “Fine,” he said.

  “We’ll save the goblins?” Sally asked from her branch.

  “They still freak me out,” Ji told her. “They’ve got way too many knees. But you’re right. You’re all right. I left those weaver kids behind, and I’m not doing that again. I can’t do that again. This isn’t about goblins—this is about freedom.”

  Sally purred. “So how do we help them?”

  “We ring the black bells twice,” Ji said, “and put the warriors to sleep.”

  “Better do it fast,” she said, jumping down from the tree. “Because flowerface is on the way!”

  38

  JI BURST FROM the eucalyptus trees, with Chibo’s skinny arms wrapped around his neck. He ran behind Sally and Roz to a round door in the outer wall of the Forbidden Palace. A handful of sentries lurked in a nearby watchtower, but they were looking toward the fire higher on the mountain.

  Roz eyed the bars crisscrossing the door, then gritted her teeth and opened them like a beaded curtain—without even asking for privacy.

  On the other side of the wall, a lawn sloped to a boulevard dotted with lamplit town houses. Two horses pulled a carriage past cherry trees and fences. The clattering wheels and clip-clopping hooves covered the sound of Roz straightening the bars to slow flowerface down.

  “There.” Ji pointed to an alley between two houses. “Sal, check that out.”

  Sally loped across the boulevard, peered into the alley, then waved for them to join her. With Chibo on his back, Ji jogged down the lawn. Roz clomped beside him, hugging Nin’s urn, then thundered across the boulevard.

  “There they are!” a soldier shouted from the wall. “The monsters! Sound the trumpets!”

  Chibo groaned. “Oh, bad. Very bad.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ji told him, sprinting into the alley. “Things are about to get much worse.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because we’re ringing a loud bell in a city where every soldier is hunting for us.”

  “When you put it that way,” Chibo fluted, “it doesn’t sound so smart.”

  “We’re actually ringing it twice,” Ji said, trotting between adobe walls. “To stop the terra-cotta warriors.”

  “And attract every other kind of warrior?”

  “We’ll be okay as long as nobody sees us sneak into Ti-Lin-Su’s place.”

  “There’s more alleys over here!” Sally darted around a corner; then her fuzzy head reappeared. “And, um, isn’t the queen the only one who can ring the bells?”

  “We’re about to find out,” Ji told her as trumpets blared from the outer wall. “Now, does anyone know where to find a bell tower?”

  Sally landed on a wooden sign outside a pastry shop. “Duck through there! There’s guards ahead.”

  Ji dragged Chibo toward an archway, with Roz shambling behind them. Her footsteps thudded as heavily as clay. Which made him wonder if they were running out of time.

  “How much longer till the terra-cotta warriors reach the goblins?” he called to Sally.

  She peered into the night. “They’re pretty slow, but they’re pretty close. And there’s more soldiers coming from the palace.”

  “Here we are!” Roz rumbled from the other side of the archway. “Ti-Lin-Su’s estate isn’t far!”

  “You’re sure there’s a bell tower near her place?”

  “Of course I’m sure!” She shifted her bulk. “I’m almost entirely certain. I’m very nearly completely positive.”

  She lumbered onto a wide avenue that followed a tree-lined canal. Despite the flames and chaos higher on the mountain, this neighborhood was calm and peaceful. After a few blocks, Roz crossed toward a tile wall that rose two stories overhead. Iron spikes lined the top, above elaborate mosaics depicting coral reefs, colorful fish, and flowering seaweed.

  “Ti-Li-Su lives on the other side,” Roz said. “The entrance is down the street.”

  “Pretty walls for a fortress,” Sally said. “But where’s the bell?”

  “I’m certain I saw one nearby.”

  “You want me to fly around?” Chibo asked. “Because it’s no problem if you do.”

  “There!” Ji pointed to a white tower peeking over a roof. “But, um . . . ”

  “What’s wrong?” Sally growled.

  “Once we ring this bell,” he told her, jogging closer, “they’ll know exactly where we are.”

 
“If we ring the bell,” Sally said, loping beside him. “I still say only the queen can do it.”

  “Roz is better than any queen,” Ji said.

  “That’s your plan?” Sally said. “That Roz is better, so she can ring a bell?”

  “I’m not stupid,” Ji said, even though Sally was pretty much right. If anyone could match the queen, it was Roz. “She’s strong, that’s why.”

  “And Roz only needs to ring one bell,” Chibo said. “Not all of them.”

  Ji took a breath. “Whatever happens after the bell sounds, we scamper like bunny rabbits into Ti-Lin-Su’s estate immediately. Agreed?”

  Roz nodded. “Agreed.”

  “I won’t scamper,” Sally said, looking up at the bell tower. “But I’ll honorably retreat.”

  Bunnyscamper! Nin babbled. Ring the bell! You are stonefriend, Sneakyji!

  Chibo spread his emerald-glowing wings. “I won’t scamper either, but I’ll fly like a bunny rabbit!”

  “Chibo!” Ji barked at him, crossing to the tower’s front doors. “Wings!”

  The glow dimmed. “Oops.”

  “Now fly to the top. Unlock any doors from the inside. Sally, keep your eyes peeled. Nin, you stay—”

  “Soldiers!” Sally growled.

  “How close?”

  Sally pointed, and sword-wielding soldiers raced into sight from a side street. “That close. There’s only four, though. I can hold them off.”

  “You sure?” Ji asked, scratching his arm nervously.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay.” He took a calming breath. “You’re a hobgoblin—do some hobbing.”

  We stayfight too. A trail of ant lions jumped off the urn in Roz’s arms. Keep them from catching you.

  “You’re tiny! What can you do?”

  Buttsting! Nin’s voices sang out.

  “Just be careful. And if you see flowerface, run.” Ji looked at the bell tower doors. “C’mon, Roz—break these down.”

  “I would rather not damage city property,” Roz murmured primly as she demolished the doors with a single strike from her shoulder.

  “Nice,” Ji said.

  “According to the rules of honorable combat,” Sally called to the soldiers on the avenue, “we should— Hey! You cheater!”

  Ji glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of Sally leaping over a swinging sword. Then he followed Roz into the tower and up a flight of spiral stairs. He ran higher until his lungs burned and his knees felt weak—then Roz gathered him into her arms and kept thundering upward.

  “If you tell Sally that you carried me,” he warned her, wrapping his arms around her neck, “I’ll paint your horn white and call you a unicorn.”

  She sniffed. “My dress is entirely unsuitable for this sort of activity.”

  At the top of the stairs, Ji slid from Roz’s arms and pushed through an unlocked hatch into an open chamber with a massive black-glazed bell. Fresh air swirled around him, and moons-light shimmered on the shiny blackness. When Roz followed, an emerald glow reflected in crazy patterns on the bell and Chibo landed beside them.

  “Ring it, ring it!” Chibo said. “Flowerface is here! He’s here!”

  Roz punched the bell. It made a soft, disappointing thunnn.

  “Harder!” Ji said.

  She punched it harder. It made a slightly louder, equally disappointing thonnn.

  “Roz! Flowerface is going to—” Ji gave a frightened cry and looked toward the palace. “No!”

  “What?” Roz asked, in a worried rumble. “What’s wrong?”

  “Keep hitting that bell!” he snapped, his voice trembling. “And I’ll tell you what’s wrong.”

  Thunnn, the bell said. Chunnn.

  “The fire’s spreading in the palace. There’s flames everywhere. Do you see that, Chibo?”

  “Of course I don’t see it!” Chibo said, peering into the darkness.

  Ji drew in his breath in horror. “It’s a library. Those flames are books. There’s a hundred books on fire, Roz. All those pages are turning into ash and—”

  With an earsplitting roar, Roz lashed her head forward and smashed the black-glazed bell with her horn. Once, twice, and—

  39

  THERE ARE SOUNDS that you don’t just hear, there are sounds that you feel. There are sounds that shake you until your teeth rattle, then hurl you to the ground and stomp on your brain with black-glazed boots.

  Ji curled into a ball, his hands clapped over his ears, weeping from the deafening boom of the bell. He writhed on the floor until the shattering clamor quieted to an agonizing hum. Then Roz’s half-troll face appeared in front of him, and she opened and closed her mouth like a trout.

  “Stop playing around!” he said, rubbing his stinging eyes. “Where’s Chibo? Is he okay?”

  She pointed past him, and Ji saw Chibo swooping wildly through the evening air outside the bell chamber. Strange streaks appeared in the glow of his wings, and Ji gasped when he realized what they were.

  “Darts!” he said, though he couldn’t hear himself. “They’re shooting darts at him with atlatls! That’s why he’s flying like that!”

  When Roz rumbled at him, he only heard a faint whisper: “. . . wall . . . run!”

  “What? Louder!”

  She leaned closer and shouted. “The palace soldiers are at the outer wall! We have to run!”

  “So carry me!” he said into the deafening hum. “Let’s go!”

  “I can’t, Ji! I’m not sure I can stand.”

  He blinked his stinging, watery eyes at Roz. Blood trickled from her mouth and she looked even more stunned than he felt. Which made sense: she was the one who’d rung the bell with her face, while he had just flopped around like a broken shoelace.

  He pushed to his knees, waited until a wave of dizziness passed, then touched one of Roz’s four-fingered hands. “Lean on me.”

  “I’ll crush you!” she said, through the finally fading hum.

  “I’m stronger than I look,” he said.

  Which might’ve been true, but he still wasn’t strong enough to carry a half troll down a spiral staircase. Still, they managed to stumble downstairs together, with Roz leaning against the wall, her shoulder scraping the stone.

  By the time they reached the ground floor, Ji’s legs felt better and his hearing worked again. Maybe merfolk had sore eyes, but they sure healed fast.

  “Those poor books,” Roz moaned, staggering toward the splintered front doors of the bell tower. “That poor library.”

  “Oh, uh . . .” Ji squinted at her. “There wasn’t any library.”

  “What?”

  “I needed to make you mad enough to ring the bell,” he explained.

  She muttered a word that Ji was surprised she knew—then a groan from outside caught his attention. Oh, no. Sally. With his heart in his throat, Ji ran from the tower and scanned the avenue.

  One swordsman lay limply on the cobblestones, and Sally cowered near him, paws raised to block a clay hatchet eight inches over her head. But the hatchet wasn’t moving. Flowerface the terra-cotta warrior stood motionless over her, frozen in midblow—another two seconds, and his hatchet would’ve split Sally in half.

  A dizzy weakness rose from Ji’s legs and into his head. Another two seconds and Sally would’ve died. The thought sickened him and the evening dimmed. . . .

  “Ji!” she yelped. “You did it!”

  “Roz did.” He took a deep breath. “Are . . . you okay?”

  Her muzzle lifted into a fierce grin. “Who cares about flying? I can fight.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said faintly. “Where’s Chibo?”

  “Here!” Chibo called from above, then slammed into the ground. “Ow! My landings need work.”

  Sally rolled out from under Flowerface. “And Nin can sting. He chased the other soldiers away. And look!—” She kicked Flowerface in the shin. “We stopped the terra-cotta warriors.”

  “Yeah,” Ji said. “And now we have to—” />
  Bunnyrun! Nin’s voices piped up. You saved the goblins.

  “Roz saved them,” Ji said. “Using her love of books.”

  “Serves me right for trusting a liar,” Roz groaned, sitting on the tower steps with her head in her hands.

  A louder blare of trumpets sounded, and Ji said, “Quick! Run to Ti-Lin-Su’s house!”

  “I can’t run,” Roz grunted. “I’m not entirely sure I can crawl.”

  “You need to,” Ji said, trotting closer to her.

  “Let me catch my breath!” she said with a half sob.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you.”

  “Except that we’re in a rush.”

  “Yeah, except that.” He took her stony hand. “C’mon, before anyone sees us.”

  She groaned and rose shakily to her feet. The sound of soldiers marching came from higher on the mountain, and Ji looked toward the wall with the seaweed-and-coral-reef mosaics. The bronze-banded entrance to Ti-Lin-Su’s property was only a block away.

  “They’re almost here,” Sally growled. “Stay close, Chibo.”

  Roz made a rocky noise in her throat, then grabbed the top of the urn. When Ji took her free hand and pulled her down the block, the urn rattled and clinked across the cobblestones.

  “You can do this, Roz,” Ji said. “You can do anything.”

  “She can’t fly!” Chibo fluted.

  “They’re here,” Sally said.

  A dozen black-clad soldiers jogged onto the avenue fifty feet away, drawing scimitars and clubs. Too close. Too fast. A lump of failure curdled in Ji’s stomach, and his eyes stung with unshed tears.

  “What should we do?” Chibo asked. “They saw us.”

  “Stick to the plan,” Ji said, pulling harder on Roz’s hand. “Get behind Ti-Lin-Su’s walls and—”

  “We’re not going to make it,” Sally growled.

  You run, Nin’s voices chimed, loud and insistent. We’ll hold them off.

  “They’re too many of them,” Sally said.

  Ant lions poured from the urn, dropping onto the avenue like a rose bush shedding petals. You saved goblins. Now ogre saves you.

  “No way,” Ji said. “We stay together. Whatever happens, we stay together.”

  Missroz, Sallynx . . . take care of Sneakyji.