On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness Page 5

  Tink moaned, but already Janner was helping Leeli toward the trail.1

  An old walking path led through the trees behind the Igiby cottage and wound precariously near the edge of the cliffs. In the deepening shadows the children made their way through the trees.

  When they emerged, the view was terrible and vast. Shale and tough grass littered the rocky verge of the land. The horizon was silent and wide, and a salty wind sighed upward, around their ankles and through their hair. The children stood without speaking, dizzy with the smallness they felt looking out over the Dark Sea of Darkness.

  Janner looked to his right and could make out a precarious trail winding over stone and brush, leading away to where the people would be watching the dragons. The Glipper Trail stayed mostly level on a narrow shelf while the ground nearer the tree line rose steeply above them. Wiry shrubs and roots clutched the rock wall as if they too were afraid of falling.

  “Janner, I can’t do this,” Tink said. He was standing with his back against the gray rock, eyes clenched shut.

  “You have to,” Janner said. “The Fangs that might find us on the road are more dangerous than this trail right now. You have to try, Tink.”

  Using the nearby boulders for support, Leeli hopped back to him and took his hand. “Come on,” she said.

  Tink jerked his hand away and forced a smile.

  “I’m not really worried about me, you know,” he said with sudden bravado. “I just meant that, uh, I don’t think Leeli should be out here.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Leeli said wryly.

  Tink sighed and peeled his fingers from the rock. He inched along behind Leeli and Janner, careful to stay as far as possible from the edge. As the light faded, the trail rose and narrowed. Leeli picked her way across, but Janner had to stop now and again for Tink to gather the courage to follow. Janner kept looking back to be sure that Leeli was able to navigate the trail without her crutch. With Nugget at her side and all manner of roots and rocks to hold, she seemed more like she was taking a stroll through a park than edging along a perch above the Dark Sea.

  Finally, they topped the rise in the trail and it widened out to a grassy slope. Janner and Leeli tried not to laugh when Tink burst ahead of them and paced the safe ground. His shirt was drenched in sweat, and he was strutting like he had just won a race. Ahead and below them Janner saw the glow of torches where the people were gathered to watch the dragons.

  “We made it,” Janner said. “Tink, help me with Leeli.”

  As they scrambled down the slope toward the throng, the moon began its soft ascent. Then they heard the most achingly beautiful sound in all of Aerwiar.

  10

  Leeli and the Dragon Song

  A long, warm note like the sound of a yawning mountain rose in the air and bounced off the belly of the sky. The deep echo was absorbed by the tall trees of Glipwood Forest and was answered a moment later by a higher sound that felt like a soft rain. Even Janner forgot to worry over the Fangs for a moment. His chest tightened and his eyes stung with tears.

  “Quick!” Tink said. “It’s starting!” Tink ran ahead, dangerously close to the cliff. His fear of heights was all but gone.

  “Tink!” Janner called. But there was no stopping Tink—the sound of the dragons had changed him somehow. Janner even thought for a moment that he looked different, boldly making his way along the precipice.

  Janner and Leeli moved as quickly as they dared till they could make out the dark cluster of people watching the ocean below them. The verge of the cliffs was cluttered with boulders between patches of tall grass, places where one could sit and comfortably watch the sea. The Dark Sea was so far below that it seemed if someone were to tumble over the cliff they would have time to stop screaming and take a final, breezy nap before crashing into it. Tiny, silent streaks of white on the surface were actually chaotic waves smashing into the jagged rocks below, and the mightiest spray was only faintly visible, like a poof of dust from a pebble dropped in the sand.

  Janner and Leeli found Tink sitting on a flat outcropping of rock that depressed in the center. They were still an arrow’s shot away from the crowd, enough to satisfy Janner that they were well hidden.

  By the light of the big moon, Tink leaned out over the edge, straining to see something in the dark water below. How could this be, Janner thought, when just that morning Tink had nearly wet himself on the roof of the house?

  From where they sat they could see the mighty Fingap Falls far to the north, roaring over the cliffs and pounding into the sea. To the south, the cliffs marched away into the distance, where they eventually curled backward and sloped downward to embrace Shard Harbor, home to Fort Lamendron, the largest Fang outpost in all of Skree. It was there the Black Carriage bore the children taken in the night.

  Janner shuddered and tried not to think about Fort Lamendron or the Carriage. It wasn’t hard, because the dragon song was rising in pitch and volume. Hidden in their cleft of rock, Janner forgot about the Fangs. He forgot about their desperate need to find their grandfather and mother. And, like Tink, he forgot the precariousness of the edges of the high cliffs as he leaned out over the empty air and felt his heart ache.

  Tink was the first to see them. His breath caught in his throat and he found that he couldn’t speak. He tapped Leeli on the knee with the back of his hand and pointed. She and Janner saw it as well.

  In the churning white waters at the base of Fingap Falls, a long, graceful shape burst from the surface. Its skin caught and magnified the light of the moon. The sea dragon was easily twice the height of the tallest tree in Glipwood Forest. Its reddish body glimmered like a living fire. The head was crowned with two curved horns and its fins spread out behind it like wings. Indeed, it looked as if it might actually fly, but the dragon wheeled in the air and crashed into the sea with what must have been a sound like thunder but was inaudible over the constant roar of the waterfall.

  At that moment, the dragon song rose into the air on a bright wind and filled the people gathered on the cliffs with a thousand feelings—some peaceful, some exhilarating, all more alive than usual.

  A middle-aged man named Robesbus Nicefellow, who had spent his life balancing records for the famed button merchant Osbeck Osbeckson of Torrboro, decided he wouldn’t spend one more day working behind a desk; he had always wanted to sail. Mr. Alep Brume, who was sitting beside Ferinia Swapleton (proprietor of Ferinia’s Flower Shop), turned to her and whispered that he’d secretly loved her for years. Mayor Blaggus silently swore he’d never again pick his nose.1 All of the passion and sadness and joy of those who listened wound into one common strand of feeling that was to Janner like homesickness, though he couldn’t think why; he was just a short walk from the only home he’d ever known.

  The few Fangs unlucky enough to stand watch at the cliffs, however, heard only screeching, a miserable wail that set their teeth on edge. Their green skin shivered and they snarled and hissed at the people closest to them.

  Tink was leaning so far over the edge that it looked like he might fall to the sea. Eyes wide open, his jaw was clenched and his knuckles were white where they gripped the rock at his sides. Janner had the strange thought that he looked like a statue of a king, perched there so rigid and serene in the warm dusk.

  The song continued, and more dragons exploded out of the water. They spun in the air and hung there for a moment before slamming back into the sea. Scores of horned bull dragons, amber and shimmering gold, swam circles around the thinner and more sleek mares that burst out of the water and over them in an intricate pattern. Now even the roar of Fingap Falls was not as loud as the crash of the many dragons into the Dark Sea. The strains of the song entwined and followed one another until a haunting melody emerged. Janner thought, as he thought every summer the dragons came, that there could be nothing more beautiful in all the world.

  Leeli was still as a statue, her hands clasped at her chest. Janner heard a whisper of sound mingling with the dragon song as her lips moved like
she was trying to remember the words to a song, or like she was praying. Her gaze was far away, resting somewhere beyond the dragons. A slight, sweet melody, the beauty of which Janner had never heard before, drifted from Leeli’s mouth. Janner looked at her with wonder. He was so enthralled with her song he scarcely noticed that after a moment it was all he heard.

  The dragons had fallen silent.

  They had halted their dance and were gazing up at the cliffs. Though they were leagues away and the dusk made it difficult to see, Janner knew with a shudder that the sea dragons were watching them.

  They were listening.

  O holoré lay thee low

  Holoél dark in the Deep

  Down beneath the earth you go

  Go holoré fast to sleep

  Fast to sleep

  Fast to sleep

  Dark holoré in the Deep

  Rise again holoré now

  Spring abundant holoé1

  Render green the dying bough

  Raise the rock where Yurgen fell

  Raise the rock

  Raise the rock

  Spring abundant holoél2

  A breezy sound of gasps and whispers rose from the crowd. In all the years the dragons had come, this was something new. Tink and Janner looked in awe at Leeli, who seemed unaware of the quiet commotion she was causing. The wind carried Leeli’s voice along the cliffs so it seemed to the crowd that the song was coming from the air itself.

  Finally her song ended. Leeli came to herself and focused on the shimmering beasts below her, silent and watching. For a moment the only sound was the wind and the sea and the distant waterfall. Then the dragons arched their great necks, spread wide their fins, and bellowed an answer that rattled Janner’s teeth. It echoed Leeli’s tune in a sad, hopeful reprise.

  Then it stopped.

  The dragons were gone as fast as they had come. The last fin disappeared in a swirl of water. Only the dull, even rush of Fingap Falls and the occasional cry of a gull interrupted the awed silence.

  Mr. Alep Brume blew his nose. Whispers turned to hushed voices, which finally became the chattering of the multitude standing and stretching, then turning to walk back to town.

  The moment was over. The dragons would make their way, so people said, back south to the Sunken Mountains to live out the winter.

  Tink was still staring at the sea, at the place where the last dragon had sunk away. He blinked several times and came out of a trance of his own. He looked down, his face turned pale and he squealed like a flabbit. He skittered back and lay panting on the ground five feet away, clutching the grass as if the world might lurch to its side and try to shake him over the edge.

  Leeli giggled, her head full of music.

  “What was that, Leeli?” Janner asked. “Who is Yurgen?”

  She shrugged, blushing. “I don’t know. I think it’s a song mama used to sing me when I was little, or something like it anyway.” She scrunched her face up, thinking hard. “It’s odd,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I can’t remember it now,” said Leeli, looking out at the Dark Sea.

  “Well, it was…really pretty.” Janner didn’t know what else to say.

  He was about to suggest that they find Podo and their mother when two cold hands grabbed him from behind. Janner was spun violently around to find himself face to face with Slarb the Fang, who had a swollen, bleeding wound on the side of his scaly face.

  11

  A Crow for the Carriage

  The Igiby children stood frozen. Four more Fangs surrounded them with swords drawn. “Try to run if you like,” Slarb said with a smile that exposed his long, sharp teeth. “It’s a long way down to the sssea. I’m sure those ghasstly dragons would love a few plump vittles after their silly show, don’t you think?” Two of the Fangs seized Tink and Leeli.

  In a deep, gravelly voice, one of them said, “What d’you want we should do wif ’em, Slarb? Tosss ’em over or put ’em in the pen?”

  Slarb considered the first option for a moment. His purplish forked tongue flicked over his fangs as his cold eyes went from the children to the cliffs a few feet away.

  Janner looked over Slarb’s shoulder at the dissipating crowd, praying that Podo and his mother would spot them, wherever they were. But not one of the people in the crowd was looking their way, and as far as he could tell, none of them was Podo or Nia. Janner was furious that he had allowed himself to be distracted from finding them. They probably would have been better hidden in the crowd anyway.

  “Commander Gnorm told me to bring ’em in, but this cliff is ssso close and these humans are so very sssmelly, eh, Brak?” His tongue flitted a few inches from Janner’s face.

  There was no way out. One Fang would be hard to escape from. Five would be impossible. It was best to stay calm and hope Slarb followed orders. Being thrown in jail and sent to Dang in the Black Carriage was horrifying, but it was better than being tossed into the sea right there and then. Janner noticed that Nugget was long gone.

  So much for the loyal dog, he thought, just as Slarb’s fist slammed into the side of his head, knocking him to the ground. It was the first time he’d ever been hit so hard. He’d had his share of fights with Tink, but they were nothing to the explosion of pain he felt while he moaned and struggled to his feet.

  Slarb snorted. “Let that be a lesson, boy. Touch me again and I’ll eat you alive.”

  He stepped over to Leeli, grabbed a fistful of her wavy blond hair and jerked her head back. “And the same goes for you, ssstenchy little girl,” he said, and he pushed her to the ground beside Janner.

  Tink wrenched free from the Fang who was holding him and swung a fist at Slarb, but Slarb brushed the punch aside and rammed his knee into Tink’s stomach. Tink doubled over and collapsed, gasping for air. Slarb bent over him and drew his knife. With one greenish-scaled hand, he held Tink’s head flat against the ground while he ran the point of the blade softly down Tink’s cheek. “And you, you ssscrawny little thing,” he growled. “Remember Slarb with thisss.” He flipped the dagger in the air, caught it by the blade, and cracked Tink in the head with the pommel. Janner and Leeli cringed at the sound it made as Tink cried out, then clenched his teeth and fought back the tears as a little patch of blood emerged from his hairline. At the sight of the blood, the Fangs became agitated, hissing and snorting like dinner had just been served.

  “Bring them with me,” Slarb said, turning away.

  The brothers were yanked to their feet and shoved forward. Leeli tried to stand, but her poor twisted leg buckled beneath her, and she crumpled to the ground. Janner bent to help her up, but the Fang named Brak stepped between them with a growl.

  “I’d let the little ssstinker alone if I was you,” he said.

  “She can’t walk without help!” Janner said hotly, and Brak bared his fangs at him.

  “Let the boy help his little crippled sister, you fool. Unless you want to carry the sssmelly thing all the way back to the jail,” Slarb hissed.

  Brak’s nose twitched and his scaly lips curled with disgust while he regarded Leeli. He relented, and Janner helped her up again.

  The side of Janner’s face was pounding from the blow, and above Tink’s ear an egg-sized knot was growing. Leeli cried as she limped along, looking around for Nugget.

  By now most of the tourists had made their way to either The Only Inn for dinner or to their camp at the opposite edge of town to cook something they’d bought at the market that day. A few people were milling around the lamp-lit streets, but when they saw the procession of five armored Fangs carrying torches and prodding the three frightened children along, they averted their eyes and shuffled out of the way.

  Commander Gnorm was a fat, scaly thing with sagging eyes and yellow crooked fangs. He lazed on the front porch of the jail almost all the time, sharpening a dagger and eating whatever happened to be on hand.

  Janner’s mind was racing. They had gotten themselves into a hayload of a mess. Commander Gnorm’s de
cisions were as swift as they were ruthless, and for all he knew they would find themselves in the Black Carriage on their way to Fort Lamendron before the sun rose.1 They were shoved up the few steps onto the jailhouse stoop where Commander Gnorm was leaning back in a chair, sharpening his dagger in the shadows.

  “Well, get ’em inside,” he said without looking up.

  They were marched into a lamp-lit room and past a desk littered with fish bones. On the wall facing the desk, a crude circular target had been painted and a score of daggers were jutting out of the wall. Whoever had thrown them was disturbingly accurate. Slarb pushed the children into another room that was as dark as a grave. The light of Slarb’s torch revealed three barred cells, the floors strewn with hay and filth. He lifted a ring of keys from the wall, opened the barred door, and shoved the children into a cell. With a look of great satisfaction he locked the door, replaced the keys, and left.

  Tink and Leeli curled up next to Janner on the floor as if it were cold, though it was quite stuffy.

  “Let me see, Tink,” Janner said, taking his brother’s head in his hands. He parted Tink’s hair and squinted in the darkness at the lump, though he had no idea what he was looking for. “It doesn’t seem too bad,” he said, trying to sound much older than he was.

  “How’s that face of yours?” Tink said.

  “It’ll be fine,” Janner said, wincing as he touched the bruise forming on his cheek.

  The brothers turned to Leeli.

  “You going to be okay?” Janner asked.

  “This was all my fault,” she said, wiping her nose with her forearm. “I’m so sorry I got us into this mess.”

  “What happened back there, anyway?” Janner asked.

  “While you were watching the handyball game, I was throwing a stick to Nugget near the lawn, behind the crowd. A thwap plopped out of a tree, right in front of him, and Nugget ran after it. I followed them and before I knew it I was all the way back here on Main Street. I saw Nugget chase the thwap into the alley, and when he turned the corner, he tripped that Fang.”