The Monster in the Hollows Page 9

  The boys’ room boasted two desks, two wardrobes, and a bunkbed as wide as a wagon. The boys darted inside and clambered around on it like thwaps. In minutes they were wrestling, tumbling about on the floor and howling with laughter and pain and more laughter. Janner didn’t care about his wounds, and he didn’t care that his brother had fur and claws. He was so happy about having a room again that he could think of nothing else.

  “Now,” Nia said over the racket, “I’m going to take a long, hot bath. You may fetch me only when the table is set and dinner is served.” She left them to their wrestling match.

  A few seconds later, while Kalmar jabbed him in the ribs and twisted his foot, Janner noticed that Bonifer Squoon was watching Kalmar from the doorway. He thought he saw a strange look on the old man’s face—a look of fear.

  Darkness crept into Janner’s joy as he realized that he was only beginning to glimpse the troubled road that lay before his little brother. If Bonifer Squoon was afraid of him—Bonifer, who had told Kalmar only an hour ago that his fur didn’t matter—then the Hollowsfolk would be an even greater problem.

  As if to confirm this thought, Nia poked her head back through the doorway. “After dinner I intend to give all three of you a thorough scrubbing. I want you presentable when I take you to school in the morning.”

  16

  Podo Helmer Falls in Love

  Janner didn’t realize how tired he was until his head hit the pillow. He and Kalmar had wrestled before dinner, after dinner, and after their baths, so by the time Nia finally ordered them to bed, they were both sweaty and out of breath. Janner opened one of the windows to let the cool air in, then blew out the lamp.

  “Kal, come look at this!” he whispered.

  Kalmar knelt beside Janner at the window. The stars seemed close enough to touch, and their beauty was a song in the dark silence of the sky. A night owl hooted from its perch in the tree outside the window. Somewhere in a distant pasture a donkey brayed. The window faced the field behind Chimney Hill, and beyond the fence, Janner could see a road rising and falling and twisting across the countryside, with lanes branching off and winding toward other homesteads and barns. Golden light glowed in the windows where people were still awake, reading or visiting or eating fruity desserts. The brothers knelt for a while in the quiet and looked out on the beauty of the Hollows.

  “It smells good here,” Kalmar said. “I can smell everything—the owl in the tree over there, the goats in the next pasture—they don’t smell so good, I guess. I can smell apple butter on the hot bread in that house across the way. I don’t know how I’m going to get to sleep.”

  Janner had a thousand questions for Kalmar, but he hesitated to ask most of them. He didn’t want his brother to feel any odder than he already did. “Are there any other . . . changes? I mean, like being able to smell everything.”

  Kalmar thought for a moment. “I can see better. I feel stronger. Hungrier.”

  “I didn’t think that was possible. You’re always hungry.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “Then what do you mean?”

  Kal’s ears twitched and he shook his head. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  Janner heard frustration in his voice and decided to leave it alone. The silence was broken a moment later by the clop of hooves on the road and the squeak of tack and wagon.

  Although Janner knew there was no Black Carriage in Ban Rona, the memory of it woke an old fear in his bones, and he sensed a shortness in Kalmar’s breathing. For most of his life he had lived in terror of the Black Carriage; it was impossible not to think about it.

  Two horses rounded the bend, pulling a wagon. A lantern swung from a hook jutting into the air above the driver and cast a weak yellow light. The driver was a skinny fellow in a riding cap, whistling a Hollish tune.

  “It’s hard to believe we’re not in danger anymore.” Kalmar sighed and climbed into the top bunk. “Will you close the window? Too many smells out there.”

  “Yeah,” Janner said.

  He didn’t remind Kalmar of the truth, that they weren’t out of danger. He had seen enough of the Hollowsfolk and heard enough of Podo’s stories to know that school in Ban Rona was going to be tough. Janner tried to sleep, reminding himself that none of the Hollish schoolchildren had braved the Fork Factory, fought a Fang, or sailed the Dark Sea of Darkness. How tough could they be?

  ***

  Janner woke to the smell of bacon and the sound of Kalmar bounding out of bed and down the stairs. He lay still for a few minutes, enjoying the murmur of morning chatter downstairs, the clank of dishes, birdsong outside the window. Light fell on the hill outside and melted the frost.

  He got up and removed his bandages to apply the gadbalm ointment Nia had left on his desk. There was no blood and no scabbing. The scratches were clean and pink with scar tissue. In just two days, the cuts had closed and only ached a little when he touched them.

  When he came downstairs with the wad of bandages in his hand, he found Leeli already up and wearing a new dress, one of Freva’s that she had hemmed and adjusted for Leeli just that morning. Leeli’s hair was braided, and her face glowed from a good night’s sleep. She smiled at Janner with jam on her cheeks. Podo sat at the other end of the table and palavered with Oskar and Bonifer. The presence of three old men in one house guaranteed that breakfast would be hearty every morning. Nia greeted Janner and sat him down in front of a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast with ermentine jam.

  “I planned to prepare a plate of fruit and leafy greens,” Nia said, “but your grandfather would hear none of it.”

  “Meat!” Podo said.

  “It looks like the gadbalm did quick work. How are your legs?” Nia took the wad of bandages and inspected Janner’s scars.

  “Better,” Janner said with a mouth full of toast.

  Freva shuffled out of the kitchen and offered Janner a cup of juice. “Bibes, sir?”

  “Huh?” Janner swallowed his food.

  “Bibes? It’s tanjerade. Very sweet.”

  “Oh. Yes, bibes would be fine. Thank you.” He watched Freva as she hurried back into the kitchen, wondering why she was so bashful and wishing she wouldn’t call him “sir.” He also wondered where her daughter was—and her husband too, for that matter.

  “When you’re finished, try these on.” Nia placed a stack of new clothes on the table, along with a pair of clean, unworn boots. Janner could already tell they were finer clothes than he had ever owned.

  Kalmar emerged from behind the fireplace in his new outfit. He wore a white shirt with a stiff collar and a pair of black leggings.

  “What about the boots?” Nia asked, appraising him with her hands on her hips.

  “They didn’t fit. My feet aren’t . . . normal.” Kalmar’s ears lay flat, which Janner had figured out was the equivalent of his cheeks turning red. “I’d rather go barefoot, if that’s all right.”

  “It is,” Nia said. “Off with you, Janner. I want to see if yours fit, too.”

  Janner’s boots were too big, but not by much. Podo said that at the rate his feet were growing he’d soon need to wear boats instead of boots. He couldn’t remember ever getting new clothes; in Glipwood, clothes had always been handed down from the Blaggus boys or made by Nia out of old scraps of fabric or tattered blankets. These were sturdy and clean, and with the new boots he even felt taller.

  “Now come here by the fire and let yer Podo tell you a few things about school in the Green Hollows. You need an idea of what’s likely to happen today. I expect at least one of you will come home with a fat lip or a black eye.” Podo lit his pipe and waited for the children to gather around him on the thick rug. “When I came to the Hollows many years ago, I sailed through the Watercraw on me pirate ship, as rascally a sailor as you could imagine. I had already lost me leg by then, had sailed the sea Maker knows how many times, had run with Growlfist and the Stranders, and had a bit of a reputation for rowdiness. I was Podo Helmer, Scale Raker, and weren’t afr
aid of nobody. So even though I’d heard that the Hollish ways were rough and tumble, I thought nothing of it.”

  Podo puffed on his pipe and stared at the fire.

  “When I stepped off the ship and onto the pier, the first thing I saw wasn’t the piles of fruit or the crowds of traders or the horses or the dogs. The first thing I saw was a woman. A woman with long hair the color of walnut and a face to stop yer heart. She was carrying a basket of apples and was turning to greet someone. When she did, her red dress spun a bit, the sun leapt off the water and lit her face, and I felt me heart kick like a mule. I’d never felt that way before. You children remember Nurgabog.”

  Janner thought of the wretched old woman from the Strand, crawling across the floor of the Strander burrow without a tooth in her head, wounded by her own son. She had loved Podo when she was young, and that love was all that had saved the Wingfeathers from Claxton Weaver and his band of thieves.

  “Well, Nurgabog was a good woman in her way. But when I laid eyes on this woman at the market I knew me whole life had come to a strong crosswind, and I had to decide whether to sail through it or let it carry me off. I decided that instant to marry her.”

  “And you fell in love,” Leeli sighed. She lay on her stomach with her chin in her hands, looking wistfully at Podo, which was what girls were supposed to do when they heard love stories, Janner thought.

  “Nope,” Podo said. “I walked right up to her, bowed so low me nose scraped the cobbles, and asked her name.”

  “Wendolyn,” Leeli sighed.

  “I’m gettin’ there, lass,” Podo said. “She smiled back at me, and I was certain I would never be happy till I married her. We talked for hours, but I never paid much attention to what she was saying. I just kept lookin’ at her face, the way she walked, wondering how I’d ever been happy without her. It was magic, I tell ye. She brought me home to meet her father that very day—”

  “To this house,” Leeli sighed.

  “Nope. To a house in town. Her father was a trader of fabric and wicker. Sailed up and down the coast of Dang for weeks at a time, but he happened to be home this particular day. He was a fine feller, even if he couldn’t spit right, and I settled in fer the interview. I figured he’d want to get to know the man who wanted to court his daughter. As we talked, a servant girl came in and offered us tea. I declined, but the man took some. He spilled a little on the floor and got all upset at the servant. Started sayin’ mean things to her, and I got right uncomfortable fast. The girl with the walnut hair came in and took up her dad’s abuse. She shooed the poor servant girl out of the room and kicked her in the rump for good measure. Right before Zola May slammed the door—”

  “Zola May?” Leeli scrunched her face in confusion.

  “Aye. Right before Zola May slammed the door I caught a glimpse of the servant girl’s eyes. They were wild with strength—like lookin’ at a wall of dark clouds screaming across the sea to flatten yer ship. Her face weren’t pretty, but fair enough and flushed red with the pain of her treatment. Her hair was cut short and hung sad-like around her eyes. Then the door slammed shut and she was gone. It was an uncomfortable moment. I said, ‘Let’s get back to talk of courtin’.’ Well, Zola May turned on the prettiest smile you ever seen and sidled up to her father to cool his temper. He agreed to let me court his daughter right quick, and before ye knew it I bade farewell to me crewmates and to me life on the sea. I was tired of outrunnin’ the sea dragons anyway.

  “Thus began my courtship with Zola May Rubleshaw. I found lodging at a waterfront inn, got a job choppin’ glipper fish, and did me best to clean up me appearance. Combed me hair. Even bathed once a week. I don’t know what Zola May saw in me, but she loved me so. After a while, though, me heart stopped kickin’ like a mule, and I started listenin’ to her words. She talked on and on about her fine dresses, about her disdain for the Green Hollows (which I was comin’ to love) and her ache to get out of town and see Aerwiar. I was sick of travelin’ by now, and anyway I couldn’t set foot on a boat without fear of the sea dragons swallowing me up.

  “All the time I spent at the Rubleshaw place, I kept bumping into their servant girl. As I said, she weren’t pretty—not like Zola May—but she had a way about her. I found that I enjoyed talkin’ to her more than Zola May, and after two weeks started visiting Zola May just so I could see how the servant girl was doin’. She worked hard. Suffered the anger of Zola’s dad in silence, and bore up when Zola May treated her worse than the family dog.

  “Then everything changed.” Podo leaned forward with a big smile. “One day I was sittin’ on the garden bench out in front of Zola’s house in the cool of the evening. We were talkin’ about whatever, and I told her outright that I didn’t want to travel anymore. I didn’t want to leave the Hollows. I wanted to follow the Maker’s wind, and it was blowing me straight and true away from the wild of the waters and to solid ground. Zola rolled her eyes. ‘That’s a giant waste of time,’ she said. ‘Don’t you find me pretty, Podo?’ She stood up and twirled her dress and flung her pretty hair about because she knew I was weakened by that kind of beauty, like every man.

  “But right at that moment the servant girl walked by, leading a donkey loaded with vegetables for sale at the market. Her dog was at her side, and I saw how the servant girl’s hand lay on its head while they walked. She scratched it behind the ears and smiled at those who passed her. I knew in that instant that I’d be happier as the servant’s dog than Zola May’s husband.

  “In the weeks I’d visited with Zola May, I never saw her lift a finger to work. Never saw her speak a kind word to anyone but me or her father. She never listened much to me or what I cared about. When the servant girl passed, Zola May was still standin’ in front of me, tryin’ to get me to stop usin’ me brain and gaggle at her prettiness. And right then, right under a sweep of Zola May’s walnut hair, that servant girl—I didn’t even know her name yet, because all they called her was ‘servant’—she looked at me and threw one of her simple smiles my way. It shot through that walnut hair and Zola’s ridiculous twirlin’ like a bolt of lightning. I stood up and excused myself. Told Zola May she could twirl all she wanted, but I wouldn’t be around to see it.”

  Podo laughed and smacked his knee. “You should’ve seen her! She looked as shocked as if I’d just belched in her face. I limped down the road to catch up with the servant. Hers was a beauty of a better kind.”

  “The servant girl was Wendolyn?” Janner asked. “But this house is huge! Why was she a servant?”

  “Our family always believed that good work was better than wealth or status,” Nia said. “So even though they had enough money to enjoy a life of leisure, my grandfather and his grandfather before him made sure their children knew the value of good work and good rest. When I was a girl I worked at the market for years. That’s why you three have always had your share of chores.”

  “In Anniera,” said Bonifer, “it was not unusual to see your father Esben pulling totatoes out of the earth beside the farmers in the field. And he was the king! Not everyone agrees with this tradition, but it is hard to argue with thekindness that has always marked the Shining Isle. It started with the Maker, then the kings, and it flowed down to the subjects of the kingdom like water from a river, irrigating the furrows. Everything grows better that way.”

  “So did you marry her right away?” Kalmar asked.

  “I wish I could have,” Podo said with a chuckle. “No, it wasn’t as easy as I thought. I fell harder for Wendolyn than I ever did for Zola May. In fact, from the moment I left Zola on her porch and chased after the servant girl with the donkey, something strange happened to me brain and me heart. I found that all the things I believed beautiful about Zola had turned ugly. And all the things that were plain about Wendolyn shone like rubies. Whenever I saw Zola in the market I wondered what I had seen in her. And when I looked at Wendolyn I saw her grace and her gentleness and deep waters and strength. She was the prettiest woman I’d ever seen. And that was in
her work clothes!”

  “Grandpa, what does this have to do with school?” Kalmar asked.

  “I’m getting to it, lad. Coming here to Chimney Hill to meet Wendolyn’s parents was the start of the hardest thing I ever did. Now, I fancied meself handsome. I was proud of me whiskers, me long hair, me tattoos, and even of me stump!” Podo stamped his pegleg on the floor. “I wasn’t afraid of anything. But then I met Kargan Igiby. He was as big around as a tree, and his arms were thick as sweetermelons. It was like meeting a kinder, less stinky version of Growlfist the Strander King, only this time I had to prove meself to his daughter. As soon as I walked up the lane and knocked on that front door over there, he flung it open, asked me name, and punched me in the nose so hard I didn’t wake up until dinner.”

  “That’s awful!” Leeli said. “What did you do to him?”

  “Nothin’. I was an outsider. He said if I even looked in his daughter’s direction he’d sock me again. I wasn’t afraid, though. I just went to her window and sang me sailor songs until old Kargan woke up and chased me over the hills. Half the time he caught me, and when he did, he whopped me good. I’d wake up in the middle of a field with a bloody nose and a smile on me face. I had me affection set on Wendolyn Igiby, and nothing could change that.

  “But I was mighty perplexed. I asked around at the wharf and finally learnt that it didn’t do any good to mention the name of Wendolyn Igiby. They’d got word from Kargan Igiby that I wasn’t to speak to her. It didn’t matter so much with Zola May because she was always flirtin’ with the sailors—but with Wendolyn I was an outsider askin’ to court a true daughter of the Hollows. That ain’t something that happens in these parts. I didn’t have a chance with her. Drop it, they said. But I’d see Wendolyn and her dog in town and I’d go mad wanting to talk to her. As soon as I did, I was set upon by whole herds of Hollish men. They’d stop whatever they was doin’ and jump on me. I lost seven teeth.” Podo proudly showed them his gums.