The Land of Elyon #4: Stargazer

by Patrick Carman

  “The old champion of the ropes is making his slider extra slick,” said Matilda. “I hope he doesn’t regret it.”

  “I’ll wait for you on the other side,” said Jonezy, putting his pack on with a look of great determination. “In case Alexa comes in too fast and can’t slow down.”

  If I was nervous before, now I was terrified. The idea of losing control and slamming into the other side was starting to set in. It didn’t help any when Jonezy tossed his slider over the rope and, with a great howl of excitement, jumped into the air. I watched as he zoomed down the line, faster and faster, his feet held like an arrow in front of him.

  It was only me and Matilda now. She could tell how afraid I was.

  “Would it help if I told you there was a really good surprise at the bottom?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “What sort of surprise?”

  “Trust me,” she said. “This is one surprise you’re really going to like.”

  She had already removed her pack and was holding a slider out to me.

  “It’s not so different than the bridge of vines,” she said. “Actually, there’s less to remember. You only have to remember to do one thing.”

  I took the slider from her, rolling it carefully in the yellow wax.

  “What’s that?”

  “Hold on!”

  That seemed easy enough as I held the two knots. They were just the right size, and grooved as if hands had held them a million times over.

  “That slider used to be mine when I was your age,” said Matilda. “My hands haven’t actually grown that much. Not much more than me! But it’s a good slider. A very good slider.”

  I heard the barely audible sound of Ranger barking from far below. He was already at the bottom, probably wondering why it was taking us so long. I wrapped the slider over the rope and held on.

  “If you want to slow down, just twist it, like this,” said Matilda. She took my hands in hers and crossed them, tightening the rope on the vine.

  I took one last look at Matilda, gripping the knots in my hands firmly.

  “Here goes!” I said, stepping off the edge of the stone platform. And when I did, something very strange happened. I was flying! I mean really flying! But there was something important and unexpected about the flying. I wasn’t the least bit afraid. In fact, I was laughing out loud as I swooshed over the village. It was a new feeling of freedom I hadn’t felt before.

  Look to the sky, Alexa Daley! It is there your future lies! Roland’s final words rang in my ears and I realized something profound and wonderful: I was made for flying! Just as Thomas Warvold was meant to travel by land and Roland by sea, I was meant to fly. I truly wished at that moment that the sky could be my home, that I could always be flying, free like a bird.

  All my feelings of purpose and excitement came to a quick end when I stopped laughing and realized I was moving way too fast for a good landing.

  “Slow down! Slow down!” cried Jonezy. He braced himself for my arrival, scrunching his eyes and holding out his arms to catch me. I crossed my hands, tightening the slider on the rope, my legs flipping up in front of me and then swinging back. When my legs came forward again, I caught Jonezy in the stomach and he tumbled over backward. I hung from the vine for a moment, suspended in air by the slider. Then I let go and thanked Jonezy for breaking my fall.

  “Very good!” he yelled. “Though I think we’ll need to work on that landing when time allows.”

  He got up, brushing himself off. “You must begin the crossover a little sooner next time. Other than that, you were brilliant. Just brilliant!”

  Matilda landed behind me, smiling as I was, happy to see that everything had come out all right.

  “Alexa Daley,” she said. “You’re a natural.”

  “Where’s the next one?” I asked, “I want to go again!”

  Jonezy led the way down a worn set of cobbled steps where another rope was secured somewhere deep inside the green moss. All of the vines came out of the moss, out of the very pillar itself, as if they were growing.

  “How do they stay put without breaking, and how did you make such long vines across?”

  “This was all here when we arrived, Alexa,” said Matilda. “We asked Sir Alistair over and over, but he would never tell us where any of this came from. It’s like a playground, don’t you think?”

  The vines disappeared into the green moss, to someplace I couldn’t see. It was like a perfectly smooth root that belonged in the ground.

  “Has one ever broken?” I asked, running my fingers along the slick surface.

  “Never,” said Jonezy. “If anything, they’ve all gotten a little thicker and harder over the years. It’s like they thrive on being ridden. Some of the best routes—the ones that are traveled dozens of times a day—seem to get stronger and faster every time they’re ridden. It’s a marvelous thing, knowing these are here for us.”

  I had a final thought before launching again, and it bothered me a little bit.

  “It seems so … dangerous. I’m surprised Sir Alistair thought it would be safe enough for children.”

  Jonezy gazed up through the web of vines. I was coming to see them more that way the longer I looked at them. How else could they keep growing? How else could they be so securely fastened to the otherwise fragile mossy walls? They must run deep inside the pillar.

  “This was designed by the hand of someone who thought of such things as safety. The higher you go, the thicker the web of vines becomes. I’ve fallen many times, but there are always many vines to grab hold of as I fall. Every five feet or so, there’s a chance to catch another, and they give a little bounce that wonderfully breaks your fall. It’s as if whoever made this place expected us to let go, and to let go often. To be honest, sometimes falling is the most fun! Wait until you see a competition—then you’ll see some real falling.”

  I was so curious to see a night skim competition I could hardly stand it. But I was also wondering about the surprise Matilda had promised me. I hoped and prayed it was what I thought it would be.

  “Let me go first again,” said Jonezy. “You have to stop short of the ground or the landing is pretty rough. Watch and learn.”

  He swung his slider over the rope and remembered something he’d forgotten to say.

  “Don’t come down until you see a waving hand, all right?”

  I heard the sound of Ranger barking from below.

  “I’ll wait until I see your signal,” I said.

  Jonezy was gone in a flash, standing on the ground below in no time at all. He’d made an expert landing I hoped to replicate when my turn came.

  I could hardly wait to get airborne again and I wrapped the slider over the top, waiting impatiently for Jonezy to give the sign. He was waving, but not at me. It was as if he were calling someone from inside one of the houses to come out. And then I saw why he had asked me to wait and what my surprise was. It was the kind of surprise that makes you whoop and holler, and I did just that as I raced down the rope toward the very bottom.

  Yipes had come into view, waving both his arms, calling me to come down.

  CHAPTER 8

  A FEAST AMONG MOSSY HOUSES

  In my view, there are many different kinds of hugs. There are the one’s you give to huggers, people who hug all the time. These, to me, are by far the least special of all hugs. I see the outstretched arms for the third time in as many days—the expectation of an embrace—and I am drawn in by a feeling of good manners rather than sincere closeness. It’s like shaking hands.

  There are also those I hug only once in a great while because I hardly ever see them, but who I don’t necessarily feel all that close to. Those kinds of hugs are probably the most awkward. I’m expected to hug so I do it, even if I’m not sure I want to. Hugs like these are brief, and I am always left wondering what sort of look the other person had on their face where I couldn’t see.

  And then there are hugs. Like the hugs my parents give me when I’m having a bad day, any
sort of hug from Armon the giant, or a hug like the one with Yipes right now.

  Yipes and I are not apt to embrace each other unless there’s a good reason to do it, but when there is a good reason, it’s a hug that feels like it ought to. I know the expression on his face—I can see it behind my own shut eyes. He is beaming from ear to ear, his mouth completely evaporated beneath a bushy mustache that hasn’t been trimmed since we left The Land of Elyon. His eyes are closed, too. I’ve knelt down to hug him and he’s trying to pick me up and drag me around. When we let each other go, we both know something special has occurred. The hug has made us truly closer. We both feel better for having done it.

  “He’s gone,” I said, thinking of our lost captain. I had saved my tears over Roland, waiting for someone who could understand the strange emptiness of the world the same way I did.

  “I know,” said Yipes, pools of water filling his little eyes. We sat down together on the soft green moss and allowed ourselves a good cry. And I knew—just like I knew my own name—that we cried for the same reasons. We did it because we were sad at the loss of our close friend, but we also did it because we were happy. Happy that Roland was in the Tenth City with Thomas, Armon, John Christopher, so many others. And overjoyed that we had each other and a good bit of adventure awaiting us in an unexplored corner of the world. Defeating Abaddon seemed half as hard now that there were two of us.

  “You need to trim that thing,” I said. Yipes brushed a thumb across his mustache wet with tears.

  “Now why would I want to do that?” he said. “This is a mustache made for exploring—nice and thick with the grime of the world. Besides, I’ve got no one to impress.”

  “Are you sure?” I said. Matilda had waited at the top for a long pause, but now she was on the rope skimming down toward us. She was small, as I’ve said. Not as small as Yipes, but close, and so very pretty. The thought had crossed my mind….

  “Matilda,” I said as she landed and I stood with Yipes. “This is Yipes, my closest friend.”

  It was the first time since I’d known Yipes that I had ever seen him instantly infatuated. But you don’t miss a thing like that.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” said Yipes, taking off his leathery hat and holding it to his chest. He reached out his hand as if to shake, then pulled it back awkwardly, laughing like an idiot. He ran his fingers through his mustache, wishing it were trimmed and clean.

  “How on earth were you able to keep that old hat on in the storm?” asked Matilda. She was trying to downplay her interest, but a girl can tell. Matilda saw someone very interesting before her.

  Yipes held the hat out before him, examining it for wear and tear.

  “To tell you the truth, I have no idea.” There was another bout of silly laughter, and then, thankfully, Jonezy walked up beside us.

  “I don’t mean to rush you,” he said. He was looking directly at me, as if no one else mattered. It made my face feel warm with embarrassment and I worried Jonezy might blurt out something ridiculous like, Could you come this way, Princess Alexa?

  “You’re not rushing us at all.” I glanced at my two companions, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands. Yipes seemed relieved at the distraction. I think he wanted to get me alone and ask me all about Matilda.

  “The people in the village have prepared a welcome for you,” said Jonezy. “A modest affair, but one I think you’ll enjoy. Oh, and we should be getting word any moment now of the enemy’s advance. I know you want to be kept aware.”

  “I’m sure we’d all like to know what the enemy is doing,” I said. “When will you have word?”

  Jonezy began walking toward a cluster of close-by houses and we all fell into step behind him.

  “Here comes our scout now,” said Jonezy, glancing up into the web of ropes. “Don’t mind his manners. He’s the best skimmer we’ve got, and I’m afraid he knows it.”

  Someone was flying over the village as we walked toward it. Whoever it was appeared to be on a collision course with the thatched roof of the house directly in front of us. And he was going way too fast.

  “He’s going to crash!” I shouted. “What’s wrong with him?”

  Matilda placed a hand on my shoulder.

  “It’ll be all right,” she said. “Marco can be a little bit of a show-off.”

  Just when I thought the skimmer on the rope would crash right into the side of the house, he pulled up with his arms, bounced on his slider, and flipped all the way around the vine with a wonderful, spinning motion. His entire body was swinging slow and high over the top side of the rope as he swooshed over the house. By the time he’d cleared the house, he’d swung back down. Then he twisted the slider hard and slowed to a stop, dropping free onto the ground right in front of me with a sly smile on his face.

  “Trained him myself,” said Jonezy, glowing with pride.

  “You’ll wear out a slider a week with stops like that,” said Matilda. “You should save those moves for competition, not to impress newcomers.”

  This took the smirk right off Marco’s face.

  “We’ll see whose training pays off tonight,” he said, latching his slider onto a belt at his waist as he glared at Matilda.

  “Marco,” said Jonezy, trying to defuse the rivalry between the two. “This is Alexa Daley.”

  “Happy to meet you,” I said. Marco was young. He couldn’t have been more than a year or two older than me. He was wiry and strong, sun-baked from head to toe. His sandy hair looked freshly cut, powdered with blond where the long days of sun and wind had blown the color clean out. He nodded at me without speaking; it was clear he thought an awful lot of himself.

  “And this is …” started Jonezy, but Yipes jumped in to finish.

  “We’re already acquainted.”

  Marco took an immediate interest in Yipes.

  “Well, what do we have here?”

  Marco acted as if he’d never seen Yipes before, though it was clear the two had already met and developed a dislike for each other. Marco was taller than anyone else in the group—much taller than Yipes—and he acted as if he were measuring my little friend. Yipes only smiled and glanced back and forth between Marco and Matilda.

  “Congratulations, Matilda,” Marco said. “You’re not the smallest one anymore.”

  Marco thought this was hilarious until Yipes kicked him. Kicking people is something Yipes is very good at, and this was one of his better efforts, in which the toe of his sandal met with the bone of Marco’s shin. Marco hopped around on one foot, howling. I think he may have used a curse word, but I couldn’t be sure what the word meant because I’d never heard it before. Maybe the Five Stone Pillars had their own curse words. It sure sounded like one.

  Ranger came over and stood next to Yipes, licking his hand. It almost looked like Ranger was aware that Marco might try to fight with Yipes and the dog wanted to protect him.

  “Let’s all calm down,” said Jonezy. “The day of a competition is always an emotional time. You can take it out on each other at the night skim.”

  This seemed to ring true for Marco and he taunted Yipes once more.

  “Be careful tonight,” he said, shaking his leg in the air to ward off the pain. “It’s easy to fall from a slider in the heat of competition. Things have a way of happening.”

  “I have no doubt,” said Yipes.

  Could Yipes have already become skilled at skimming? He was a climber—so agile and quick—so skimming would probably come quite naturally to him. I was unexpectedly jealous, wishing they’d taken me to the third pillar so that I could have had time to practice.

  We had come right alongside the first of many houses. The green moss rose right up off the ground onto the stone blocks, making up the walls of the home, as if it were a home made of nothing but moss with rounded corners and arched windows. The roof and door were both of dark wood, made darker still by the blanket of bright color.

  “Tell us about the sea monster,” Jonezy said to Marco, breaking my train o
f thought. “What did you see?”

  Marco strode over next to us, overemphasizing his limp.

  “Whatever that thing is down there, it’s angry. But I don’t think it’s trying to knock down the pillar. I don’t see how that’s even possible.”

  “What do you think it’s trying to do?” asked Jonezy. It was true that even the narrowest pillar was vast around the bottom. It would take a long time to break it apart, even for Abaddon.

  “I didn’t get as close as I wanted to. That thing is unpredictable, and I didn’t want it snatching me out of the air.”

  “What does he mean about getting close to the water? Is that even possible?” I asked Matilda.

  Marco relished the attention he was getting.

  “The same way we rescued you from the Warwick Beacon. I swung down.”

  Marco had been the one to save me! I thought I’d been rescued by one of the adults, but I’d really been rescued by a boy!

  For once, Marco did not gloat. Instead, he continued, “It came clean out of the water twice while I watched, pulling itself up, like it was trying to climb the pillar.”

  All at once, it dawned on me that Abaddon might not be trying to knock down the pillar. Maybe he was smashing holes in it, places where he could hold on with those scaly metal arms and climb.

  “How far up did he rise?” I asked.

  “Not far. But I got a good look at its head. That thing is gruesome even from a distance!”

  “You have no idea,” I said, remembering the rusted metal head as it rolled open, the teeth of the monster chomping at the air. Time to go down with the ship, Alexa. You’ve served your purpose!

  I shook the words out of my head as Marco went on about what he’d seen.

  “It looked like the monster was rising just far enough to punch more holes in the pillar, like it couldn’t breathe when it was out of the water and had to go back under.”

  “Maybe it can’t get free!” Yipes exclaimed. “It might want to, but it’s a sea creature. This could be good news for us. It may never be able to topple the pillar no matter how hard it tries. And if it can’t get out of the water, then we’re safe up here. This is good!”