Beast & Crown

by Joel Ross

  “You’re an ogre of honor, Nin,” Sally said, and jumped on Ji’s face.

  Blinded by the sudden furball, Ji reeled backward, away from the soldiers, shouting muffled swears at Sally. He staggered a few steps. Then Roz’s hand grabbed his shoulder and Sally leaped away.

  “—doolally fuzz-faced hobgoblin!” he screamed.

  Roz tugged him toward the bronze-banded door with one hand and dragged Nin’s urn with the other. The clay rattled and dirt spilled onto the ground. Only a few ant lions still clung to the papaya seedlings: hundreds more fanned across the avenue.

  “Let me go!” Ji snarled, struggling in Roz’s grip.

  “Sincere . . . apologies,” she rumbled, trudging closer to the bronze-banded door.

  Ji punched her arm, and pain burst in his knuckles. “Ow! Sally! Help me!”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” Sally asked, backpedaling between him and the soldiers. “Hey!” she called to them. “I challenge you to a duel!”

  “The monsters!” one of them said. “They speak.”

  “Let’s see if they scream,” another said.

  “A duel of honor,” Sally growled.

  “Nobody duels an animal,” the first soldier snarled.

  Ji squirmed and kicked, but Roz didn’t loosen her grip. She just pulled him closer to Ti-Lin-Su’s bronze-banded door, panting with effort.

  “How about jousting?” Sally asked the soldiers. “We could joust.”

  “We could skin you and use the fur for— Aaaaaaah!” The soldier screamed and pounded his calf with the hilt of his scimitar. “Scorpions! There’s scorpions in my armor!”

  Eat buttsting, human! Nin’s voices crowed. I’m inside your legholes, peeking your knees!

  The other soldiers started screaming and whacking at the ant lions inside their armor. Pain and panic scattered them . . . for a moment. Then one soldier grunted an order, and they started stomping on the cobblestones. Squashing ant lions.

  Nin didn’t say anything in mind-speak, but Ji felt bursts of pain each time another ant lion died.

  “How many ant lions can Nin lose,” he asked Roz, limp in her grip, “before the whole colony dies?”

  Sneakyji? Nin sounded weak and faint. Take care of everyone, stonefriend. . . .

  The ant lion voices faded into silence, and Roz dropped Ji beside the big bronze-banded door, then slumped against the wall.

  “Nin?” Ji said, staring into the empty urn. “Nin!”

  Roz struck the door with the side of her fist. “I’m too . . . weak, Ji. I can’t break through the door.”

  Six black-clad soldiers stalked toward them, driving Sally backward with flashing blades—and Ji couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t do anything except watch with his stupid stinging eyes and his useless merman scales.

  40

  SCALDING TEARS FILLED Ji’s eyes. His fists clenched in fear and frustration . . . and with a creeeeak the bronze-banded doors swung open. Green light spilled out like an emerald fog.

  “Hurry!” Chibo fluted from inside. “There’s more coming!”

  Roz shouldered into Ti-Lin-Su’s estate, the urn scraping the floor. Ji stumbled after her, into a cool breeze that smelled of marsh and rainfall.

  “I flew over the wall!” Chibo announced, wings shimmering in pleasure.

  “How’s Nin?” Sally growled, bounding beside them. “Is he—they—still here?”

  “The doors!” Ji shouted. “Bolt the doors!”

  With a pained grunt, Roz shoved the doors closed a moment before the first black-clad soldiers arrived. The slam reverberated inside the high walls. Pounding sounded from outside as Ji and Sally slid three heavy metal bars across the doors. Then Roz hefted an even bigger bar into place.

  “Nin?” Ji knelt beside the urn. “Nin! Say something!”

  Silence. No mind-speak came from Nin. No red-and-gold ant lions boiling from the mound in the urn. Nothing but fluttering papaya leaves and four ant lions scratching in the dirt.

  “Roz, you’re bleeding,” Sally said. “Are you okay?”

  “A trifle tired,” Roz said, wiping her split lip. “But not hurt.”

  “C’mon, you headbutton!” Ji begged the urn. “Tell me how to pickle beets! Say some aws or—”

  A blare of trumpets shrilled through the night, and a tromp of boots echoed along the street outside.

  “We’re cornered.” Sally put her paw on Ji’s shoulder. “We’re trapped and—”

  Crack! Soldiers slammed the other side of the doors. The wood shuddered and the bars creaked.

  “And that,” she finished.

  “Okay” Ji said, wiping his eyes. “We need another way out of here.”

  “The water garden,” Roz said in an awed rumble.

  Her hood had fallen, revealing her curved horn—and her broad, granite-flecked face was alight with wonder.

  When Ji turned away from the door, he saw why. Palm trees rose above walkways that twisted through an enormous water garden. Streams linked dozens of pools, some glittering with golden fish, some thick with seaweed, some steaming like hot springs. Gauzy canopies draped lush islands scattered with cherry trees and seashells and driftwood. Canals flowed through archways into the triple-domed main house.

  “That’s not a water garden,” Sally said. “That’s a water forest.”

  When Chibo spread his wings, emerald light shone on pillars rising from one pool and illuminated the bookshelves between them.

  “This is where Ti-Lin-Su writes,” Roz said, her voice soft. “All her greatest works of poetry and zozology and—”

  “Who cares about her?” Ji snapped, above the pounding on the door. “What about Nin?”

  “If there is a single ant-lion queen left alive,” a woman’s voice said from the water garden, “the colony might survive.”

  Chibo’s wings flared brighter, and Ji’s heart thumped. “You ready for another fight?” he muttered to Sally.

  “I’m not going to hob some damp old lady,” she said. “Not even for you.”

  Ji followed her big-eyed gaze toward a woman with long white hair, standing waist-deep in the water beside a walkway. The woman fixed a veil around her face, then waded closer, wearing a flowing blue dress that shed water.

  “M-my lady Ti-Lin-Su,” Roz sputtered. “We—we do apologize for bursting inside so rudely, and—and for how we look but, but—”

  A slam-slam-SLAM sounded from the boulevard, and Ti-Li-Su said, “But there is another queen who worries you?”

  “Yes, milady,” Roz said. “Her Majesty’s army is hunting us.”

  “So if you’ve got a back door,” Ji said, “we’ll get out of your hair.”

  “After you break the spell on us,” Sally growled.

  “The spell?” Ti-Lin-Su asked. “Oh, of course! You survived the Diadem Rite? But not before it transferred some of your essence into the heir.”

  “The rite made us less than human,” Roz said, her voice thick, “to make Brace more than human.”

  “I cannot break this spell,” Ti-Lin Su said. “Its power runs too deep.”

  Roz’s shoulders’ slumped. Chibo’s wings sagged and Sally growled, “Then who can break it?”

  “That doesn’t matter right now!” Ji said, looking toward the shuddering front doors. “If we don’t get out of here fast, we’re dead.”

  Ti-Lin-Su eyed him through her veil. “Ah! I presume that you are the one who rang the black-glazed bell?”

  “I barely made it up the stairs,” he told her. “Roz rang the bell.”

  The white-haired lady turned toward Roz. “The same Miss Roz who called on me the other day? I’ve lived alone for many years, my dear, in quiet meditation. And now you’ve shattered my peace.”

  “I apologize.” Roz lifted her head. “However, we hadn’t a choice.”

  “I turn away all callers,” Ti-Lin-Su said, wading to the edge of the walkway. “And yet, meeting the four of you is—”

  “Five of us,” Ji said, putting a hand on
Nin’s urn and trying not to scream in frustration. Why were they just standing around talking? But he couldn’t push this lady too hard—they needed her help.

  “Meeting the five of you,” Ti-Lin-Su said, accepting the correction, “is the consummation of my most dearly held ambition.”

  “Huh?” Sally growled.

  “She’s happy to meet us,” Roz explained.

  Ji eyed the shuddering doors. “I’ll be happier when we’re gone.”

  “You are part . . . sprite?” Ti-Lin-Su’s veiled face turned toward Chibo. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything so breathtaking. May I feel one of your wings?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Chibo said, and shifted a sheet of green light toward her.

  Ti-Lin-Su brushed the wavering rays with her fingers. “They truly are made of light,” she said with childlike wonder. “How do they hold you aloft?”

  “I don’t know, ma’am,” Chibo said, oddly shy. “All I know is I can fly.”

  “That’s a tremendous gift.”

  “I know! That’s what I keep telling them! It’s the best thing ever!”

  “We’re kind of in a rush,” Ji said, as the pounding grew louder and the front doors shook. “So if you could tell us how to get out of—”

  “Jiyong!” Roz rumbled. “Hush!”

  “Indulge me for another moment, young man,” Ti-Lin-Su told Ji, “and I will show you how to leave undetected.”

  “There’s a way out?”

  “There is indeed.”

  “Thank summer,” Ji said, faint with relief. “And, uh, do you know who can break this spell?”

  “Whyever would you want to?” Ti-Lin-Su asked, still waist-deep in the water.

  “Just look at us!”

  “Very well.” She turned her head, and her breath caught when her veiled gaze fell on Sally. “A hobgoblin!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Sally said.

  “Strong, fast, acrobatic. Not to mention sleek and stunning. And, I must say, hobgoblins are entirely f—”

  “Fuzzy?” Ji guessed.

  “Formidable.” Ti-Lin-Su rested her elbows on the walkway. “One must never underestimate a hobgoblin. And you,” she said, looking to Roz. “A troll. So rare and beautiful, and rooted so deeply in the earth.”

  “Th-thank you, milady,” Roz said, and managed to blush.

  “And not even in my most fanciful imaginings,” Ti-Lin-Su said, looking back to Ji, “did I dream of you.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Ji muttered, with a glance at the shuddering front doors. “I’m a merman who can’t swim.”

  “A merman?” Ti-Lin-Su’s laughter sounded like wind chimes. “You’re no merman. If anyone can assure you of that fact, it is I.”

  Roz pressed her hand to her throat. “You!” she gasped to Ti-Lin-Su. “You!”

  “Indeed, you clever young lady.”

  “What in the moons are you nattering about?” Ji asked. “And can we please, please run away now?”

  “She’s a mermaid!” Roz said, her voice thrumming with excitement.

  Ti-Lin-Su laughed again and glided through the water. Her tail broke the surface behind her, then splashed back down with a slap.

  Sally’s tufted ears pricked up and Chibo’s wings fluttered and Ji’s breath caught. Whoa. Ti-Lin-Su was an actual mermaid! Swimming through the water garden, completely full of both mer and maid. He gave a low whistle. Maybe she really would know who could to turn them human again.

  “Perhaps this is a sign that I’ve hidden for too long,” Ti-Lin-Su said, removing her veil to reveal a wrinkled mermaidy face. “Perhaps it’s past time for me to return home.”

  “Wait a minute,” Sally said. “If Ji’s not a merman, what is he?”

  “The answer to my outstanding question, I very much hope.”

  Ji frowned. “The only question I care about is how do we get out of here?”

  “Your outstanding question . . . ,” Roz whispered, her eyes widening.

  “You are the rarest of beasts,” Ti-Lin-Su told Ji. “The proud echo of an ancient song that has quieted almost to silence.”

  “So now I’m a song?” Ji scoffed.

  “What she means,” Roz said, “is that you’re a dragon.”

  41

  ANOTHER CRASH SOUNDED at the bronze-banded door, and Ji calmly said, “Well, I guess that explains the scales.” Then he uncalmly shouted: “Can we go now?”

  “If only you knew how special—” Ti-Lin-Su stopped at a louder BANG-crash-smash-bang. “Well, perhaps you should follow me.”

  Roz looked a little shaky, so Ji stayed beside her, holding her elbow when she stumbled. They trotted along walkways between springs and grottos to the largest pool in the garden. When they reached a display of driftwood statues, Ti-Lin-Su dived underwater, her tail driving her deeper with powerful strokes.

  “Are we supposed to swim after her?” Sally asked, crouching on a boulder beside the pool.

  “Of course not,” Roz rumbled. “Lady Ti-Lin-Su knows we can’t breathe underwater.”

  “Plus if you went underwater,” Ji told Sally, “you’d smell like wet dog for a week.”

  “Go shed your skin, lizardboy,” she said, flashing a few fangs.

  “Is something happening?” Chibo frowned toward the pool where Ti-Lin-Su had disappeared. “Sounds like something’s happening.”

  Ripples appeared in the water, and then a whirlpool formed in the center. A sudden current lapped against rocks, then splashed the banks. As shouts sounded from the boulevard, the entire pool started slowly draining away. Very slowly.

  Ti-Lin-Su broke the surface near Sally. Water sheeted down her white hair, and her eyes were golden, with oval pupils. Her tail splashed beside a hummock of sea grass that seemed to grow larger as water emptied from the pool.

  “This pool drains through an underground river to the coast,” she said. “When you jump in, the current will carry you to freedom. You won’t be comfortable, but you’ll survive.”

  Across the water garden, the bronze-banded doors shook and the metal bars creaked. “Survive” sounded pretty good to Ji.

  “Thank you so much,” Roz rumbled. “And when we reach the coast, you’ll tell us about breaking the spell?”

  “Only the Summer Queen can reverse the effects of the Diadem Rite—and the Ice Witch, if she is not merely a myth.”

  “But you think she is a myth,” Roz said. “I read your article about her.”

  “Apparently the world is even stranger and more wonderful than I imagined,” Ti-Lin-Su said, her golden eyes glinting. “And while magic is not always—”

  “We’d love to hear more,” Ji interrupted, “after we escape.”

  Ti-Lin-Su laughed again. “Dragons!”

  “Yeah,” Sally said. “Reptiles have no manners.”

  A louder bang sounded at the doors. Then two more: bang-bang.

  “I’ll swim first to clear the way.” Ti-Lin-Su pointed to a pale, submerged boulder on the bank of the pond. “Follow me when the water reaches the bottom of that rock, and you’ll have enough room to breathe.”

  “Breathing is good,” Ji said. “We like brea—”

  With a slap of her tail, Ti-Lin-Su vanished into the swirling current. The whirlpool circled more quickly, revealing the muddy banks . . . and a strong fishy smell.

  Roz sighed. “She even swims elegantly.”

  A sudden crash shook the doors, and one of the metal bars snapped with a sound like a bone breaking. Chibo whimpered and Sally’s ruff rose into a spiky mane.

  “She’s a mermaid,” Ji told Roz, staring impatiently at the water level in the pool. “Of course she swims well.”

  “I can’t believe I actually met Ti-Lin-Su,” Roz said, her voice soft with awe.

  “Just don’t let go of Nin’s urn. Maybe there’s a queen in there.”

  Soldiers shouted outside, voices hoarse and determined. Another slam rang out across the water garden, mixed with the squeal of bending metal. For a moment, none of them spoke. Then Chi
bo wrinkled his nose at the pool and said, “Smells like rotting seaweed. Why don’t I just fly to the coast and meet you there?”

  “You couldn’t see the coast.” Ji watched the water level drop—slowly—along the pale rock. “Just follow the plan.”

  “Why does a scholar need an escape route?”

  “Because they would’ve cooked her into chowder if they’d realized she wasn’t huma—”

  The bronze-banded doors burst open with a blast of debris.

  Dust billowed into the water garden. Chibo squeaked and Sally spun into a fighting stance. A splinter stabbed Ji’s shoulder, but he barely felt the sting of pain, too busy feeling a stab of panic: the water level wasn’t low enough yet. They couldn’t hold their breath all the way to the coast—and they were out of time.

  The clang of weapons rang from the avenue, and hoarse shouts sounded inside the water garden.

  “Oh, badness!” Chibo piped. “Here they come!”

  Ji stepped toward the mucky bank of pool. “I’ll go first in case the water’s too high to bre—” He paused, remembering that he wasn’t a merman. Still, someone had to go first. “Then Roz, then Chibo. Sally, you come last, so you can watch our backs.”

  “You got it,” she growled, her ears flattening.

  “The lady said wait!” Chibo fluted at Ji. “The water’s not low enough!”

  Ji crossed toward the draining whirlpool, slimy muck oozing inside his sandals. “Dragons don’t need to breathe.”

  “I’m pretty sure they do.”

  “See you at the coast,” Ji said, and bent to jump into the water.

  “Wait!” Brace called from the dust cloud at the shattered doors. “Ji, wait!”

  His voice rang across the water garden, firm and commanding. So commanding that Ji actually obeyed. He straightened, ankle-deep in the mud, and peered toward the entrance.

  Brace strode into view on a walkway between the big pool and the front doors. He looked different, and not just because of the silvery diadem on his forehead. He also looked . . . more. More powerful, more confident, more honest and good and true. The twins flanked him, while Mr. Ioso and Proctor followed a few paces behind. The dim shapes of soldiers moved through the dust cloud at the doors.