The Land of Elyon #4: Stargazer

by Patrick Carman

  “Faster, Marco!” I cried. We were still on a collision course with the fifth pillar, a hundred feet from crashing into it. The first thing to go would be the wing, crumpled against a wall of rock. Yipes grabbed hold of a long pole with a round head of wood on either end and leaped for one of the ropes leading up to the balloon.

  “What’s that for?” I questioned, but Yipes was climbing so fast I couldn’t be sure he’d heard me.

  “It’s for pushing against obstacles,” meowed Nimbus. “Like a stone pillar.”

  “So the balloon won’t touch,” I said.

  “We’re going too fast for it to be of any use,” said Marco. “He’s going to get hurt up there!”

  “Just keep pedaling and pull a little more to the right.”

  I was trying to get Stargazer on a diagonal course away from the fifth pillar, so that we were moving out of its way while we were pushing against the wind at the same time. It was like paddling a boat upstream, but if we could hold steady long enough, we might drift to the side of the pillar and just miss it.

  “I’m getting tired,” wheezed Marco. “Not sure I can keep this pace much longer.”

  “We’re almost past. A little more!” I cried.

  In the dim light of stars and flying green rocks, the fifth tower was a black mass that threatened to make Stargazer’s first flight its last. I couldn’t see Yipes from where I sat—he’d gone up the side of the balloon and I had no way of knowing how far.

  “That’s it, Marco—you’re doing it!” I yelled. “Pull hard to the right now and I think we can shoot past.”

  Marco’s chest was heaving but he kept at it, yanking down on the control stick. We stopped paddling upstream with the fans and drove straight across the face of the fifth stone pillar. The balloon and the wings extended beyond the box by a good twenty feet on both sides, and it appeared that we weren’t going to make it. The balloon was going to touch first—only barely—but enough that it would be sliced through by the sharp rocks of the rising cliffs.

  “Pull in the wings! Now!” I commanded.

  Marco let go of the rudder controls and placed his hands below the sides of the seat, pulling up on wooden handles with all his might. The wings crept in tighter to the box, leaving only the balloon in harm’s way.

  I waited, sure that I’d failed everyone with my timing, but the sound of ripping didn’t come. In fact, we drifted right around the edge and kept on going, along the far side of the fifth stone pillar. For the moment, we were out of danger.

  Out of sheer excitement I grabbed Marco by the shoulders and shook him, laughing and congratulating him on his success.

  Yipes came sliding down one of the ropes with the pole tucked under one arm.

  “That was close,” he said. “But this thing really works. Sir Alistair thought of everything. The pole, you see—it pushes the balloon in on itself and away from danger at the same time. Simple but brilliant.”

  “Well done, Yipes,” said Marco, though he was catching his breath and it was hard to understand what he was saying.

  “And you as well!” said Yipes. He walked right up to Marco and stuck his tiny hand out. “I’ve misjudged you. Forgive me for accusing you without any true evidence.”

  “Apology accepted,” said Marco. He looked at me then, expecting the same, and I had to admit he’d redeemed himself. We’d judged him pretty harshly, and all along something very different had been going on. Abaddon had managed to turn us against Marco—and Matilda against us. It was Abaddon I should have been trying to figure out all along.

  “I’m sorry for being rash—for not giving you a chance,” I said. “Now let’s figure out a way to turn Stargazer around and land her. We need to go back for Sir Alistair and Grump and Matilda.”

  “Are you sure you want to go back for her?” asked Marco.

  “It’s not Matilda who’s doing these terrible things. It’s that monster down there. I can fix this.”

  Yipes came near me with eyes that were both sad and hopeful.

  “I think I may want to …” Yipes stopped short, not sure if he should go on. He obviously liked Matilda very much. “We need to get her back.”

  I nodded. “Do we all feel we can handle Stargazer?” I asked.

  Everyone—even the cats—replied without hesitation that they could indeed manage the flight of a gigantic flying machine.

  “Let’s take Stargazer around the back side of the fifth stone pillar. The wind is dying down and we can come around the other side.”

  We charted a course back to the fourth pillar and hoped that we could land Stargazer without incident, retrieve Matilda from the clutches of Abaddon, and make our way back into the sky before dawn.

  But we were running out of time….

  CHAPTER 20

  MONSTER SCALE

  It took longer than I would have hoped to maneuver around the fifth pillar and carefully manage the movements of Stargazer. She really did buck and pitch like a wild stallion that needed taming, like she knew where she wanted to go and wouldn’t be told otherwise. But Marco and Yipes were becoming a skilled team. They knew how to bring Stargazer into line—to harness her power and will—and to move us in the direction we had to go.

  Beneath the wooden rail, there was a line of small lamps, and I was studying the maps and the expected winds that would come as the days turned to weeks and the long summer dragged on. I was already thinking about how I would manage a journey across the Lonely Sea, Stargazer filled with children on their way home. What if I crashed or ran out of powder fuel? What then? The thought of being responsible for so many made me wonder if I could handle a long voyage. I wasn’t even sure I could land Stargazer, let alone run her for weeks on end across open water.

  “What time do you suppose it is?” Marco asked. He’d been steadily pedaling the fans for more than an hour on our loop around the fifth pillar. We’d left the chamber late, at around half past ten, because days lasted a long time in midsummer on the Lonely Sea. The sun would begin rising in the east shortly after four in the morning.

  “It could be midnight, but I don’t think it’s quite that late yet,” I said.

  “If it’s nearing midnight, we only have four hours to get everyone off the fourth pillar,” said Yipes.

  We were approaching the gigantic opening to the chamber and its gathering of brightly burning lights. There had been no sound from Abaddon for a while. Maybe he was dreaming of our demise, resting before a final assault on the Five Stone Pillars at the rising of the sun.

  “We’ll need to be hasty about things after we land,” I said. I handed out a collection of responsibilities for everyone, including the cats (they were to get Grump into the box beneath the balloon).

  “Slow her down, Marco,” I instructed. Marco stopped pedaling—but only for a second—and then he was pedaling slowly in reverse, which made Stargazer sway heavily over our heads.

  “A tiny bit of air, if you please,” I said to Yipes. This was an important moment. The opening to the chamber was huge, but so was Stargazer. We were coming in straight and slow thanks to Marco’s excellent command of the rudders, wings, and pedals, but we were a small bit lower than we needed to be. We would need to rise slightly in order to land.

  “Bring in the wings.”

  Marco moved his hands skillfully at my command while Yipes tweaked one of the wooden handles at the tube gently open and shut again. Stargazer floated up ever so slightly. The wings tucked in. Then Yipes took hold of one of the tie-down ropes and jumped out of the box, into the open air. I wanted to yell for him, but knew I must be quiet as we entered. The last thing we wanted to do was wake the sleeping giant below and we weren’t sure what sort of situation we were about to encounter with Matilda.

  Yipes swung below the rim of the chamber, then up again. He had to lift his legs to avoid crashing into the pillar, but he was safely inside, pulling the rope toward the pulley that had once held it.

  Looking all through the chamber, I saw that Sir Alistair
was no longer lying on the ground. Neither he nor Matilda were anywhere to be seen, though Grump appeared to be sleeping near the pulley.

  Yipes tied the rope back in place and began cranking the handle, bringing us in gently.

  “Be careful down there,” I said, releasing the cats into the chamber. Marco slid down a rope and began to tie us down as the cats slinked around looking for signs of Sir Alistair and Matilda.

  “Where have they gone?” asked Midnight.

  “I don’t know,” answered Nimbus. The two of them went directly to Grump and asked him as I jumped out of Stargazer and looked around carefully.

  “Well done, Yipes,” said Marco. He sat down, exhausted from his effort at the pedals and the rudders.

  “And you as well,” said Yipes. My crew was getting along nicely, but there was no time for pleasantries.

  “We have a lot to figure out,” I said. “But first, we have to find them.”

  Marco was up again without hesitation. He and Yipes were to load food, water, powdered fuel, and saltwater into the box. After that, they would need to check over the rudders, gears, wings, and lines. We’d managed to bring Stargazer under our control, but there was a much longer journey in our future. We had to find Matilda and Sir Alistair and move things along, for dawn was but a few hours away.

  “Over there,” purred Midnight in her quietest voice. She was wrapped around my leg, looking off toward the vast model of the Wakefield House. “Grump told us where to look.”

  At the foot of the Wakefield House amid a glimmering of candlelight sat Sir Alistair Wakefield and Matilda. Sir Alistair was tied to a chair, his head slumped forward. Matilda sat next to him and watched our approach with eyes more asleep than awake.

  “Don’t get too close,” said Nimbus. “She’s of two minds.”

  Nimbus had a different sense of danger than I did, and I was aware that I had come to trust both her and Midnight without realizing it. When we came within a few paces of the table where she sat, Matilda spoke.

  “He’s not going to let us go.”

  I stopped short at the sound of her voice. She was so tired and sad.

  “You don’t know that,” I said.

  Matilda had a knife in her hand, watching it unthinkingly. Sir Alistair remained silent and unmoving.

  “Something happened that I couldn’t tell you before,” said Matilda. “On the morning of your arrival.”

  She shivered softly. She was small, but I knew how incredibly strong and skilled she was. If she wanted to end Sir Alistair’s life she could do it before we could do anything about it.

  “Keep talking,” I whispered. “Stay with us while Abaddon sleeps.”

  The sound of my voice seemed to calm her, and the idea of whispers made her, for whatever reason, take on a childlike tone of her own soft whispering.

  “I saw you—there against the water, standing at the top of the highest mast.”

  Yipes and I glanced at each other and I secretly mouthed the words, She’s talking about you.

  “And I saw what you didn’t see. From behind … a dreadful, rising arm of metal and fire. There was no avoiding it.”

  Matilda looked up at Yipes then—the first time she’d taken her eyes off the knife.

  “I caught the water at the bottom and skimmed slower. And on the upswing we touched, you and I. Do you remember?”

  “I do,” said Yipes. “And you picked me up. I was surprised by your strength.”

  “You don’t weigh very much,” whispered Matilda. It was a good sign that she was making light of her heroics. It must have meant that Abaddon really was sleeping below, or at least not paying close attention to her circumstance. Maybe he’d already tossed her aside, thinking that she was doomed at the coming of dawn anyway and was of no more use to him.

  “Then what happened?” asked Yipes. He was ever so slowly moving toward her.

  “He touched me,” Matilda gasped. “He wanted to let us go for his own purpose. He could have batted us out of the air. But he only touched me. And then we were dragged up the side of the pillar out of his reach.”

  “Show me where he touched you,” said Yipes. He walked within range of her to attack him with the knife. Then he held out his hand.

  Matilda wavered, a momentary wild look in her eyes, and then she began to cry softly.

  “I can’t …” she began whispering. “I can’t show you.”

  Tears streamed down Matilda’s face as she looked upon someone who she clearly loved. She had found in Yipes a companion—they’d both known it from the moment they’d set eyes on each other—and yet she could not overcome the dark force that controlled her.

  Yipes reached for the knife and Matilda lurched out of the chair and slashed, cutting deeply into the back of his hand. She cried out that she was sorry, and for a moment she seemed herself again. Yipes seemed not to care that his hand was bleeding. He wouldn’t take his eyes off her. The space around the table was dark but for the scattered light thrown from the one lamp on the table.

  “It’s because of me this happened to you,” Yipes said. “I should be at the bottom of the Lonely Sea, but you risked your life to save me.”

  “Be careful, Yipes,” I whispered. “It’s not just Matilda you’re talking to.”

  “Show me, Matilda,” said Yipes, undeterred. “Show me where he touched you.”

  Yipes was more focused on where Abaddon and Matilda had touched than he was about whether or not she would slash and mortally wound him. He was standing close enough to touch her.

  “You don’t need to say, just nod,” he said. “Did he touch your back? Your legs? Your neck?”

  She didn’t respond until he said “your neck.” At that, she jumped back and put the knife next to Sir Alistair’s chest.

  “Get away from me!” she yelled. Yipes kept moving forward, though—he would not let her go—and Matilda cried out, “Please, Yipes! Please get back! Don’t come any closer!”

  She was struggling between the power of love inside her and the dark presence that had invaded her mind and heart. There was nothing I could say as she held the knife close to Sir Alistair and Yipes continued to move forward, his hand steady and purposeful.

  “Show me,” whispered Yipes.

  “I can’t,” said Matilda through sobs of grief and confusion. She lowered her head with the weight of all that she carried, and when she did, Yipes put his arm out quickly and touched the long hair that covered the back of her neck.

  “Don’t make me do this, Yipes,” said Matilda, raising her head and pointing the knife toward his stomach.

  “It’s over now—you can stop worrying so much,” Yipes replied. And with that he jerked his arm away from Matilda’s neck fast and hard. Matilda threw her head back and screamed in pain, raising the knife as if to strike. But then she went unexpectedly limp, falling backward into Yipes’s arms. She appeared to have fainted dead away.

  “What did you do?” Marco and I both asked as we came forward and helped lay her down on the smooth stone floor of the chamber.

  Yipes carefully took his hand from behind her head.

  “Yipes, you’ve killed her!” I cried. His hand was quite literally covered in blood.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I didn’t kill her.”

  He wiped the blood away and I realized how stupid I’d been—it was his injured hand, dripping blood all over everything.

  “Here’s the problem,” said Yipes. He smeared the blood free from his fingertips and there, held in his little hand, was a rusted metal shard.

  “Is that —?” I began to ask.

  “A scale from Abaddon’s arm? I believe it is. It was hidden all the while behind all that beautiful hair of hers. But it’s out now. She’s going to be fine.”

  “Nicely done,” said Sir Alistair. We all looked at once to see that he was very much awake and in good spirits. “I was getting tired of being all tied up.”

  I turned back and saw that Matilda had come awake as well.


  “Yipes,” I said.

  “What?”

  I nodded toward Matilda and he saw her.

  “What’s happened?” she asked. She didn’t look to me or Marco or Sir Alistair—only Yipes.

  “Nothing much,” said Yipes, carefully placing Abaddon’s scale in his vest pocket. “We flew Stargazer around and tied up Sir Alistair for fun. You’ve been sleeping.”

  “Sleeping? No, I remember—he made me …”

  “It’s all right, Matilda. You’re not going to be bothered anymore,” I said.

  She sat up and turned toward Sir Alistair. “I’m terrible!” she cried. “I hit poor old Alistair over the head with the biggest rock I could find. And you”—she turned back toward me—“I almost killed you more than once and let Marco take the blame.”

  Marco had been completely vindicated—and yet he didn’t gloat or make a fuss. He was genuinely pleased to have found his place within a band of friends he could trust.

  “You four will make a very good team,” said Sir Alistair, wriggling uncomfortably against the ropes that held him to the chair. “Could someone release me?”

  We were all embarrassed for having left him tied up.

  “Of course,” said Yipes, holding the knife out to Matilda. “Why not do the honor?”

  “But I can’t be trusted. I can’t even begin to say how sorry —”

  Yipes put his other hand up—the one that really needed a bandage—and stopped Matilda from trying to do any more explaining.

  “There’s nothing to forgive. It wasn’t you doing those things. Now please, cut the ropes, and let’s get back to work. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Matilda looked at each and every one of us and knew that we not only didn’t feel a need to judge her, we also trusted her. As she began cutting the ropes that held Sir Alistair, there was a crashing sound from below and the fourth stone pillar wobbled ever so slightly.

  “Someone’s awake,” I said. “We’d better hurry.”

  CHAPTER 21

  DAWN BREAKS ON THE FIVE STONE PILLARS