“Me Oood.” The troll thumped his great chest and peered down at Kalmar. Its eyes were twinkling with intelligence. “You brudder.”
“Oood,” Kalmar said, pointing at the troll. Then he pointed to his own chest. “Kalmar.”
“Kahmmer,” the troll replied with another grin so hideous it was beautiful. Then it sat down with a crash and began cleaning between its toes.
Kal’s knees gave way and he plopped to the ground. “I don’t even know what to ask,” he said, smiling weakly at Janner.
Janner smiled back. “How did you find me?”
“I got lucky, I think. I ran into a band of ridgerunners, and after that it was a matter of sniffing you out. What happened?”
After Janner explained how he had rescued the troll, he said, “When I woke up, the troll was sitting beside me eating a goat haunch. It offered me a hunk, which I forced myself to eat, and then I guess we were friends.” The troll looked up from its toes with a smile and waved at the brothers. Janner waved back, then grew serious. “But we can’t stay here. Listen, Kal. I ran into another band of ridgerunners, and they said Gnag had already ordered an invasion. I was trying to get home to warn everyone when I bumped into Oood. The attack might come any day now.”
Kal stared at the muddy ground. Janner had no idea how bad things really were, and he hated to be the one to tell him. “The Fangs attacked yesterday.”
“What?” Janner jumped to his feet. “We have to go!”
“Listen,” Kal said. “It’s too late. They’ve invaded. We won the battle, but not by much. They have these Bat Fangs. They fly.”
Janner glanced at the sky. “How bad was it?”
“Pretty bad. They caught us by surprise in the Great Hall. Mama’s all right, and so is Leeli. Podo and Oskar made it, too.”
“Rudric?” Janner asked.
“He’s alive. They’re getting ready for the next wave of bats, and I’m sure there will be Grey and Green Fangs to follow. If the clans hadn’t been at the Fields of Finley, Ban Rona would have been lost.”
“They sent you to find me?” Janner asked.
“Well, not exactly.” Kalmar took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how much to tell Janner. Should he admit that he was afraid of becoming a Fang—or worse, a mad Fang? Or should he tell him the other part of his plan, about trying to sneak into Throg to defeat Gnag alone? Either way, he was sure Janner would make him feel like a fool. And why shouldn’t he? Hewas a fool. That’s what got him Fanged in the first place. “I came on my own.”
“You didwhat?” Janner said with the irritated tone that Kalmar knew all too well.
“I’m going to Throg. To find Gnag.” Janner said nothing, and Kalmar willed himself to look him in the eye. “I’ve thought about this, believe it or not. I’m useless in Ban Rona. We know Uncle Artham found a way out of the Deeps through the Blackwood, which means there’s a way in. But an army could never do it.”
“What about the Durgans? They can sneak better than us.”
“Think about it. Rudric needs them all to defend the city. So I decided to do it myself. And I want you to help me.” Kal lowered his eyes again. Janner’s gaze was unreadable, and it was too heavy besides. He waited for the rebuke. Janner meant well, he knew that; he had been hammered with all that “take care of your brother” business since they were toddlers, so he couldn’t help treating Kal like he was a baby.
After a pause, Janner nodded. “I’m with you.”
Kal couldn’t believe his ears. “Really?”
“You’re the king. I’m with you. Besides, it’s not a bad idea.” Janner smiled. “We’re already this far into the Hollows, and the Fangs are focused on Ban Rona. If someone wanted to sneak into Fang territory, you have the best disguise anyone could ask for. I’m with you. Brudder.”
“Brudder!” Oood said.
Kalmar was so relieved he couldn’t speak. He was about to tell Janner his other reason for running, but Janner whispered, “The question is, what do we do with our giant friend here?”
The troll had abandoned the cleaning of his toes and was now scraping at his upper tooth with a rock. When he noticed the boys looking his way he smiled again and said, “Go to Throg. Oood squash Gnag.” Oood smashed a fist into the ground and growled while the boys laughed nervously.
“I guess that settles it, Your Highness,” Janner said. “To the Blackwood we go.”
Then Janner and Kal heard a melody that seemed to seep up through the earth and into their bones. Kal’s head swam with misty images, and he and Janner looked at one another knowingly. Somewhere, Leeli was playing, calling to them with the Maker’s magic. The ravine, the troll, the haythorn brush all faded away until they were lost in a stream of music and words and vision that stretched across Aerwiar like a braid connecting the Jewels of Anniera.
They sensed each others’ presences. Kalmar thought he saw Artham too, but he was far away and faint. Leeli was at the harbor of Ban Rona, surrounded by Nia, Podo, and Oskar. Then, in a way that he couldn’t explain later, Kalmar aimed his attention at another presence, another consciousness that lurked at the edge of the magic. It was swathed in shadow, hunched over like a broken thing. The song, which in Kalmar’s mind usually shaped itself into vivid images, shied away from the figure, as if a dark wind was blowing out the melody’s flame.
It was no dragon. It wasn’t a cloven or a Fang. It was Gnag the Nameless—and Gnagwanted them to know it. Kal could see the enemy smiling.
20
What Leeli Felt
Podo reined up the horse at the west end of Priminy Avenue, just before the cobblestone road descended to the harbor. The city was coated with a fog that made the sun reluctant to break through, as if it too dreaded the coming battle. The grownups kept glancing at the sky, and Leeli wished they would stop pretending like they weren’t worried. Whenever they looked at her they gave her a smile that said,Everything’s all right, little girl. But she knew it wasn’t. And she could handle it. It was the same with her limp—she didn’t mind help now and then, but she didn’t want to be treated like she was helpless or naïve.
“Seems like this might be close enough, don’t ye think?” Podo reined up the horse and looked down at Leeli.
Leeli grabbed the reins from Podo and shook them. “A little closer.”
“No need to get feisty,” he said, glancing at the foggy sky again.
“I think there’s plenty of need to get feisty,” Leeli answered. The way her eyebrows worked when she spoke removed any doubt that she was Podo Helmer’s granddaughter. “The bats up there could attack at any moment, and we can’t sit here all day doing nothing.” She noticed with some pleasure the way Podo and Nia exchanged surprised glances. Oskar began to whistle nervously.
As the sled horse clopped toward the water, Durgans in cowls and Hollowsfolk in armor emerged from the fog, nodding at them as they passed. Leeli’s stomach fluttered at the thought of dragons swirling and swimming just below the surface of the water—dragons who had nearly killed them, and who wanted to swallow Podo whole. She was asking a lot, and she knew it. Leeli took Podo’s gnarled, trembling hand in hers and felt terrible for forcing him into this.
“Don’t be scared,” Leeli said.
“Ah, Leeli. How young you are. It ain’t the fear, lass.” Podo’s voice trembled. “It’s memories that give an old man pause.”
Leeli held tight to Podo’s hand. By the time they reached the waterfront, the fog was so thick that their clothes were beaded with dew. The dock disappeared into the mist a few yards out from the shoreline, and Leeli could hear the slap of water on hulls and the creaking timbers of boats moored along the quay.
“Leeli, girl, I hope this is close enough,” Podo whispered.
“Yes, sir.” She asked Oskar to choose a song. “An old one. The oldest you can find. But nothing about a dragon. And something sad if you can find it.”
“Of course, Highness,” Oskar said, and Leeli heard the rustle of pages. “Ah!” Oskar clapped. “How ab
out ‘Gladys and the North Wind’? It tells of her sorrow when Omer died.” Oskar passed the book to Podo, who held it open for Leeli while staring at the water with dread.
Leeli studied the notes, fingered them on her whistleharp, then raised it to her lips and began to play. At first there was nothing, then a tingling started in her toes and ran up to her ears. The sensation warmed her like sunlight emerging from behind a passing cloud. She heard a music that was deeper than the song she was playing and realized dimly that her eyes were closed. She was playing “Gladys and the North Wind” without looking at the page.
Images passed through her mind like waves, and soon she was aware of a woman with long, dark hair, dressed in a simple yet beautiful dress—the kind of thing a girl could play in and still feel pretty, Leeli thought. The woman was strolling the stony shore of a green island. It was Gladys, the first woman. The music was painting pictures of the events that inspired it.
The woman was weeping, then kneeling at the body of a young man, then playing a whistleharp (which looked a lot like Leeli’s) beside a gravestone. Leeli felt the woman’s sadness, and it seemed that if she played long enough she might tumble bodily into the song and speak to Gladys face-to-face—the magic was working.
But she was looking for her brothers, not playing for pleasure. Leeli shook her head and had the eerie sensation that Gladys bade her farewell before vanishing into a mist like the one hanging over the harbor.
Where are you? Janner! Can you hear me?
Still playing, still faintly aware of Podo’s presence beside her, she willed the mist to part so she could see her brothers. They were together, standing in the snow as something huge and rock-like lurked at the periphery of her vision. Then they both looked directly at her.
Where are you?she asked.
Somewhere in the Hollows, Janner answered. His lips didn’t move, but she heard his voice as if he were standing right in front of her.Are you all right?
We’re all worried about you. Baxter came back, but he’s hurt pretty bad.
Now it was Kalmar who spoke.We have to go, Leeli. His eyes looked troubled.
What do you mean?
We’re going to Throg, Kal said.
Leeli’s fingers slipped from the whistleharp holes for a moment. The vision flickered until she found the melody again. So Kal wasn’t going to find Janner after all. It didn’t come as a surprise, not when she thought about it. He had never wanted to be a proper king anyway. But that wasn’t what troubled her. The vision showed her his heart, and she saw a dark cloud there. She felt his fear, and she could tell it was more than fear of Gnag or fear of the journey. He was hiding something.
Is something wrong? she asked.
Kalmar didn’t answer. Then Leeli became aware of a fourth presence in the vision, a shadow like the one in Kal’s heart, only a thousand times bigger and blacker, smoldering at the edges. She felt in that other heart a roiling anger, murderous and mean. It made her flesh go cold as death.
Leeli could tell the boys sensed it too, and she was about to ask them about it when suddenly Kal’s eyes widened and a look of terror came over his face. Janner gasped, and she heard him screaming in her mind. At first she thought the boys were in trouble, but then she made out Janner’s words:Leeli, run! They’re coming! RUN!
She slowly became aware that there were other voices mingling with Janner’s. They weren’t coming from the vision or the music, but from right beside her. It was Podo’s voice, then Nia’s. Someone jerked the whistleharp from her hands and the vision vanished like a door slamming shut.
Leeli blinked, confused about where she was. The harbor. The sled. Then the world crashed into her senses.
“Bats!” Podo was bellowing as he waved his legbone in the air. “Bats! Oskar, Nia, draw your swords!”
Leeli looked up at the featureless gray above them and saw shapes wheeling about in the mist. Wings, legs dangling from the belly of the clouds, and Grey Fangs dropping from the sky like debris in a storm. There were thousands of them.
Then a final remnant of magic pulsed through her mind, another voice like the crashing of mighty waves.
Scale Raker will die if he sets foot in the sea, girl. It was Yurgen.
“Grandpa, get away from the water!” Leeli cried, praying that the churning sea wouldn’t erupt with dragons as it had near the Ice Prairies.
“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Podo fumbled with the reins as he waved his sword in the air.
None of the Bat Fangs had come close enough to attack, but more swooped down with every passing second. Leeli knew her family wouldn’t last long in the open. The foggy harbor was at their backs, the lower city was before them, and Fangs were above. If they didn’t get to the heart of the city they would be driven onto the docks, where the dragons lurked.
Nia and Oskar stood at the back of the wagon with their swords drawn. The horse whinnied as Podo tugged at the reins, trying to turn the wagon enough that they could charge back up the lane. At last he managed it and whipped the horse into a gallop.
Bat Fangs and Grey Fangs choked the streets. Hollowsfolk poured from every doorway to meet them. Leeli clutched the seat as Podo drove the horse into the fray. Swords clashed, wolves growled, and bats shrieked as they flew past. Leeli leaned against Podo, glad above all that they were far enough from the harbor to no longer worry about Yurgen. She never wanted his old, dark voice in her head again.
“Takethat!” cried Oskar, “and that!” He bulged over the side of the wagon, whacking his sword at everything they passed. Nia, meanwhile, did the same on the opposite side with less bulging and more accuracy. Even Podo got in a swipe or two as he drove.
He piloted the wagon madly through the streets until they burst through a line of Hollish warriors, where Rudric dashed to and fro, shouting orders. The line had formed on the street outside the Great Library, and though the trees crawled with Bat Fangs, the archers stationed beneath the branches thinned them out in moments.
“Get inside, quick!” Podo yelled as he leaped from the seat.
Leeli would have loved to obey Podo’s orders. She would have loved to have followed her mother and grandfather into the relative safety of the old building. But instead she was being lifted above the rooftops, above the morning haze, and into the bright, cold sky. Two long, misshapen hands had wrapped their bony fingers around her arms, and when she looked up she saw the heaving chest of a Bat Fang as its wings flapped her skyward. Below, the buildings of Ban Rona looked like tombstones rising out of the fog.
“And away to Gnag we go,” said the Bat Fang with a wicked laugh.
21
What Janner Heard
Janner stood in the snow with Oood and Kalmar, heart pulsing with Leeli’s song. The words were as clear as if spoken into his ear. He heard Yurgen the Dragon King, muttering about Podo’s many sins. He even heard, as if from a great distance, Artham screaming something, though he couldn’t make out the words. Maybe he was in a battle, or maybe he was too far away or too crazy to notice Leeli’s song. Either way, hearing that voice made Janner ache to see his uncle again, to help him if he could.
But Janner heard something else, too. Something close and creepy, as if it was standing behind him and speaking into his ear.
Gnag the Nameless.
His dripping, dark voice crawled in Janner’s brain like a maggot.I’ll find you, Wingfeathers. Then the voice laughed a terrible laugh that made Janner feel nauseated. Now that he had heard the real Gnag speak, he felt silly for having ever confused him with sea dragons or a cloven. Gnag’s voice was more menacing, more inhuman by far.
Andthis was the thing Kalmar wanted to fight? Suddenly their quest seemed like a terrible idea. Not only that, their family needed all the help they could get.
“We need to go back,” Janner said breathlessly when the connection broke. “Those Bat Fangs are everywhere. Grey Fangs, too.”
Oood looked around fearfully. “What you mean?” Oood said. His little eyes blinked in confusio
n. “Oood see nothing.”
“It’s hard to explain,” Kalmar said. “It’s a kind of magic, I guess. It just happens sometimes.”
“Magic?” Oood asked. “What is . . . magic?”
“We don’t have time for this.” Janner was already climbing out of the ravine in the direction they had come. “Leeli and the others are in trouble.”
“Janner, wait! You said you were with me. We’re halfway to the Blackwood already.”
“We have to help them,” Janner said over his shoulder.
“The best way to help them is to get to Throg.”
“Bat Fangs will overrun the city! Our whole family is there, and that vision was a sign that this quest of yours is a mistake. Now come on. Please.”
“No.” Kalmar’s snout twitched and he let out a growl, his sharp teeth gleaming. “I’m not going back.”
“Why not? What are you trying to avoid? A few ceremonies? Is it that you’ll have to be in a council, or give a few speeches? Or is it that you’re scared?”
“You don’t understand.” Kal’s lips curled back. His eyes were flecked with yellow. The same yellow as when he had first been Fanged.
“Kal,” Janner said, his voice breaking. He was suddenly afraid, as if he were no longer standing in front of his brother or even a Gray Fang, but a feral wolf about to pounce. Oood’s chest rumbled.
From the corner of his eye, Janner saw movement near a stand of fatberry trees. Kalmar noticed too, because he suddenly sped off on all fours, growling like a wolf, in the direction of the movement. Oood and Janner looked at one another in surprise. Before they could follow, Kalmar emerged from the trees with a snowfox in his mouth. The little creature was lifeless.
The Warden and the Wolf King Page 10