Chapter Two: The Attack on the Queen
Fone Bone
Phoney and Smiley, coming up with more cons again. The only time they didn't was when they had bigger things to think about. If new trouble showed up, they'd realize what mattered for a while.
Hot, tangible air brushed against my side and made it tingle. Something wasn't right. Something strange and unseen was out there. Then, I sensed, almost saw an enormous mass of energy beside the Queen. The sudden, large force shoved at the side of the aerofoil, lurching it to the right.
Bartleby and Smiley fell backwards from the wheel, while Phoney and I gripped the railing.
"Sorry," Bartleby winced as his bulk pressed into Smiley's ribs.
"What was that?" I pulled myself straight.
"Something big," Smiley panted and rubbed the side of his head. "Could it have been an invisible dragon?"
"Nah, that's impossible," Phoney pulled himself upright. "Isn't it, dragon master Fone Bone?" He turned to me.
"I don't know," I shivered. Could that have been some sort of…ghost dragon? That creature, whatever it had been, had to have something to do with the Dreaming. The Dreaming was a force of spiritual magic that encompassed the Valley. All were influenced by it, but only a few beings such as the dragons and people known as Veni-Yan-Cari, or awakened ones, could interact with it.
No matter what that creature was, there was always something new in the Valley. I gazed down again to find the desert had changed into the cliffs and plateaus around Flint Ridge. I'd missed the forest where Thorn and Gran'ma Ben used to live? At least we were back in the Valley, and would soon be at the palace where they lived now.
Then, another force surged forward from the sky, and wrapped around the Queen. The aerofoil's wood groaned under the unseen pressure.
"Uh-oh," I readied myself. I had a bad feeling about what this could lead to.
The aerofoil flew on, but crooked, lopsided.
"Get off the aerofoil!" Phoney screamed down.
"How could this possibly get any worse?" I gritted my teeth.
Then, more large forces, their auras almost visible, came down on the aerofoil. Long tails coiled around the ship, great wings dragged us through the sky.
Cracks came from either side of the ship. Was the hull breaking?
The balloons seemed to be squeezed tight by enormous coils. They couldn't pop. If they did, we'd fall miles.
"One of you!" Phoney yelled up. "Do something!"
"In here!" Smiley threw the trapdoor open, and we all leapt below.
"We can't push them off," my wide eyes darted about. "They're too big, there are too many of them—"
"What do you mean?" Phoney gripped his head. "Fone Bone!" He jerked his head to me. "Did your insane love for Moby Dick inspire you to bring a harpoon?"
"No," I gulped.
"Oh, great!" He slapped his face. "We're screwed!"
Then, there came a bang. Then a second. And a third. A horrible feeling rose in my throat. Those bangs sounded horribly like exploding latex balloons.
The forces uncoiled from the aerofoil.
"All right!" Smiley pumped his fist.
And just as I feared, the ship dropped through the sky.
A very tense pause hung in the hull.
The balloons were gone.
We were hundreds of feet in the air.
This meant only one thing.
"YEEEEAAAAAAAAA!" We screamed as the ship plunged down.
"Where are we gonna crash?" Phoney flailed his arms.
I climbed out to see a tall cliff of a mountain rise below us. "Flint Ridge!" I darted back below.
"Thank God we're not too far from Atheia!" He shook my shoulders.
We dropped faster. When would we hit the cliffs?
CHUNK. A wide point of rock impaled the aerofoil, jabbing right between my trio of cousins and Bartleby.
"Is everybody okay?" I called.
"We must be right on the peak!"Bartleby gasped.
We were stable. Then, the hull groaned again. There was a slow, horrid, slicing sound behind us. And the Queen of the Valley tipped forward, the rock sawed through the back, and we slid straight down the mountain.
"Ya-Hoo-Hoo!" Smiley hollered.
Bump! Whack! The remains of the Queen bounced and bonked off of mounds of rock.
Then the Queen smashed nose-first into the Great Basin with a CRUNCH.
Everyone slid down to the bow and collided into a heap.
"Uhh…" I crawled my way out from under us, pain jabbing through me. "At least we all seem to be in one piece."
"What are we gonna do now?" Phoney pushed himself up and climbed out of the gaping, broken hole in the back. "Our flying machine's totaled, and Atheia's miles away!"
"But you did say we're not too far," I rubbed my throbbing head. "We crashed in the Great Basin. If we find Pawa Road, we should find Atheia." Maybe we could even meet someone on the road who could take us there.
"At least getting the aerofoil wrecked isn't so bad," he grumbled. "We don't want to return to Boneville for a while, and it's September. We'll worry about the Queen once the giant snow has melted."
"Hey, look!" Smiley waved us over to him. "Our luggage rolled down with us!"
We clambered down in his direction.
Sure enough, our duffel bags and suitcases lay scattered around the wreck of the Queen.
Phoney dashed to his suitcase and flung it open. "Yes! It's all here!" He yanked out his shoulder bag of money.
Smiley put on his backpack, then attached Bartleby's saddle bags.
Phoney, Smiley, and I grabbed our suitcases, and we all limped off.
After some walking, I turned to Bartleby. "Do you know where we are?"
His mouth furrowed. "We crashed on the east side of Flint Ridge, Pawa Road is to the south," he turned us in a downward right angle. "We should keep going this way."
"I can't believe it," Phoney griped down as we headed onward. "I just can't believe it."
"That we're out of town again?" I let him draw up to me.
"How could those ghost dragons just show up, drag us here, and wreck our ship?" He flung up his arms. "Where did they come from? What do they have against us? I've never conned a dragon! Well, maybe the whole dragon slayer thing…" His eyes trailed off.
"Flint Ridge is close to Tanen Gard, where the dragons live," I pointed out.
"That could be where the ghost dragons came from."
"But we never saw ghost dragons the last time we were in the Valley," he threw down his hand. "Did we?"
"You're right," I rubbed my lip. "I didn't see any of them when we first showed up."
"Could this be some new spooky phenomenon?" Smiley wiggled his fingers.
I laid my finger between my closed eyes, the method I remembered Thorn doing to feel the Dreaming.
The air around me felt denser, more humid, more electric.
Large shapes stalked around us. Were they the same as the ones who had crashed our aerofoil?
"Things are…here," I lowered my finger, and when I opened my eyes, the shapes became invisible again. "They don't seem to want to bother us, though."
"Great," Phoney sighed. "The less mumbo-jumbo creatures in our way, the better. Let's just get onto Pawa Road and get to the palace."
The ground was dotted by sharp stones of various sizes, from pebbles to distant ledges. As we drew forward, we came to a wide path cut between the rocks.
"Hello, Pawa Road!" Smiley strummed his banjo.
"Now we just have to head south," Phoney punched his palm. "If only we had a lift to really get us there."
We loped down the road, a breeze brushing the tops of our heads.
A few small birds hopped and chirped along, poking at insects that crawled up from the rocks.
A strange sort of rumbling touched the backs of our ears.
"What's that?" Phoney jerked around. "Another ghost dragon?"
I tried to discern the rumbling. Was it thunder? It seemed composed of multiple, smaller, rhythmic sounds. Clop-clop, clop-clop, clop-clop, clop-clop. As we stood still, the sound drew closer. It all clicked in me. "Everyone get out of the way!" I charged across the paths to the tall rocks on the other side. "A whole lot of hoofed animals are coming!"
"Thorn and Gran'ma Ben set up a cow race here, didn't they?" Phoney dived after me with Smiley and Bartleby behind.
I peered out as the hoofbeats grew louder.
Then, sights emerged with the sounds.
It wasn't cows; it was horses. Roughly twelve in all, six draft horses laden with precious-looking cargo, six slender horses topped with riders.
Most of the riders were men in helmets and breastplates, swords and daggers at their belts. But their armor was different than what I had seen on the Atheian guards or Pawan soldiers. Did they come from somewhere outside of the Valley?
The rider in the middle was the only one without armor. Or facial hair. He was distinctly younger than the men around him, looking about Thorn's age. The early afternoon sun glinted off the silver brocade on his blue tunic. A rich red cape billowed from his shoulders. And something told me he'd be trouble.
The three riders in front came to a halt where we had been.
"What is it?" The middle rider stopped his horse.
"Someone seems to have left their luggage on the road, Sire," the guard front and center dismounted. "Perhaps another dignitary coming to the ancestral ceremony?"
Someone left their luggage? My insides froze. As soon as my eyes jumped around me, I knew exactly who had lost their suitcase. I'd panicked so much, I'd dropped my bag. My mind jumped to its contents, a quarter to half of which composed of love poems for Thorn. That guard had better not—
He bent down and flicked open the latch with a click.
"What do you see in there?" The middle rider leaned forward.
"Well, there certainly is a fellow interested in wooing the queen's hand," the guard lifted a piece of paper from the suitcase. "He has quite the collection of odes here."
My whole body went stiff as heat flared into my face.
"Would you like to take a look at what he might perform at the court, Sire?" He held up the love poem to the middle rider.
No, no, no, no.
"Read it aloud, Captain!" Another guard in front called. "We all ought to hear potential skill at pleasing the queen."
"I suppose we could hear it," the middle rider smiled. "If he has been practicing, he must have some talent."
They couldn't laugh. I prayed they couldn't.
The captain cleared his throat and flipped the poem back to his face. "I may be short, with a large nose, and skin that's just like ivory," his recitation burned red into me. "But I know that no other guy will be dearer to you than I'll be!"
The men burst into guffaws.
"It must be one of his earlier works," the middle rider chuckled.
"Do any of you want to hear another?" A guard called around. "Let's see what else this fellow's written!"
Oh no. I'd written that poem yesterday. If that poem made them all laugh, the others would, too! "We have to do something!" I clutched my scarlet face.
"I might have an idea," Smiley's eyes focused.
"Go for it!" I threw out my arms.
"Hey!" He burst forward, flailing his arms. "Caravan of bigwigs! We need your help!"
I slapped myself across the face.
"Who are you?" The captain stepped back, eyes narrow above his long black mustache.
"We," Smiley ushered us forward, "Are the Bones, the heroes of the Valley! I'm Smiley Bone, this is my rat creature, Bartleby, this is Phoney Bone," he pointed them all out, "And this is Fone Bone!" He held out his hand as I edged forward, face tight and burgundy.
"Fone Bone?" The middle rider pushed forward on his cream-colored horse. "The one the Atheian stories say helped the queen defeat the Lord of Nightmares?"
And he was more handsome up close. If he met Thorn and she showed any interest, I was doomed. "Yes," I gave a quick nod. "And I'm—very good friends with the poet who wrote all that," I pulled my poem from the captain's hand, stuffed it back in the suitcase, and slammed the lid shut.
"We flew here in an aerofoil, but it ran into some ghost dragons and crashed into Flint Ridge," Phoney spoke up. "We were wondering," he turned to Smiley, "Could we ride with you to the palace of Atheia?"
"Yes," the middle rider held up his hand after a pause. "Behind myself and the guards, not on the luggage."
"Thank you, Sire!" Phoney gave a showy bow and climbed upon the captain's horse with his suitcase.
I hoisted myself behind the middle rider; I had to keep an eye on him.
With everyone else on their horses, the captain mounted himself in front of Phoney, and we rode off.
"I heard you have an interest in the queen, Mr. Fone Bone," the middle rider looked back at me.
"Interest?" I tried to blink with wide eyes. "What would make you think that, um, Sire?"
"You seemed very concerned about those poems," his gray eyes narrowed. "And, well…" He traced over my short body, large nose, and tusk-white skin. "I'm sorry we mocked you."
"Thanks," I sighed down. "Who are you? I've never seen guards like yours in the Valley."
"I'm Prince Fiore," he lifted his eyes. "I'm from Eria, the land north of Atheia."
Dang it. Why did he have to be a prince?
If Eria was north of Atheia, it had to be where that waterfall came from.
"We come from outside the Valley, too," Smiley half-leaned to him from his horse. "We're from Boneville, a big town past the desert in the upper west territory. Why are you going to Atheia again?"
"The kingdom will have its ancestral ceremony tonight," he lifted a hand on the reins. "All sorts of dignitaries like myself are coming to visit Queen Thorn and participate in her land's customs."
"Have you met her? Do you like her?" He edged forward in his saddle.
No, Fiore couldn't have. And even if he did meet her, she wasn't into him.
"I tried to greet her the past two years, but some king or sultan got in the way," he lowered his arms.
Thank goodness for them. Hopefully this year would be the same. At least I knew Thorn was partial to blondes; Fiore's dark hair wouldn't stand a chance.
As my eyes trailed off, they caught a large white figure upon a ledge. It was shaped like a—rat creature? But it couldn't be. They only came in black, brown, and gray. Were there albino rat creatures? Whatever it was bounded off as we moved forward.
"So, what's this ancestral ceremony about?" Phoney waved his hand behind Fiore. "Any big crowds? Souvenirs and food from everywhere?"
"In Atheia, everyone lights candles at the shrines, and tries to reach out to those who have gone to the spirit realm," the smile dropped from Fiore's face. "At the palace shrine, Queen Thorn leads a prayer ritual in honor of the rulers before her. The candle-lighting starts at sundown, and after the prayers, everyone shares a banquet that brings the lands together."
"Great, it's Dia de los Muertos," he grumbled.
"At least there's a party with food!" Smiley gave him a big grin to try to cheer him up.
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