All the other Stranders stared at Elisheva. The flickering fire cast eerie shadows on their faces, reflecting both excitement and trepidation. The Igiby family and Oskar all looked to her anxiously, whatever she was planning, she better do it now.

Elisheva took a deep breath to calm down. It was time to try out Scherezade's route. Hopefully the Stranders enjoyed horror stories.

And she knew one from an old anthology show Are you Afraid of the Dark?. Her favorite program that she used watch back home (albeit the reruns), and she knew just the story that's befitting this occasion.

"This is a story of a rebellious boy who finds himself in over his head…. Stranders of the East Bend, submitted for your ears, this scary tale from my homeland is called…"

Elisheva's voice carried a mysterious tone, captivating her audience as she began weaving the chilling narrative of, "The Tale of the Water Demons."

"Shawn Mckenzie was a teenage boy with a chip on his shoulder, getting into all sorts of trouble at home. So his mother sent him to his strict uncle and responsible cousin Dean Wilson in the country, to spend the summer, hoping to straighten him out." She emphasized Shawn's disobedience and rotten behavior, including his habit of stealing gum and candy from his Uncle's store.

"Then one day, Shawn became intrigued when he learns about Captain Abraham Westchester, who amassed wealth through pillaging and looting sunken ships. Shawn convinced a nervous Dean to make a coffee delivery to the Westchester Mansion, hoping for a big tip. Upon entering the mansion, they are captivated by the valuable items displayed in glass cases."

Both the group and the Strander clan listened with interest.

"The Captain's Mansion was right next by the edge of the ocean, when they arrive, there was a note on the door instructing the delivery people how to get inside and what pantry to put the coffee in.

When they entered the inside of the mansion, Shawn was just amazed and astounded by the glass display cases full of priceless and valuable items that the Captain had found in shipwrecks."

"What kind of items?" one of the Stranders questioned.

Elisheva smirked, "Think of old antiques worth a whole lot nowadays. Spyglasses, jewelry such as solid gold and gold encrusted rings, necklaces, bracelets, a string of pearls and pocket watches. Shawn opened one display case to look at a gold watch and Dean insisted he puts it back, because he doesn't want the 'crazy' sea captain angry at him. Yet Shawn gazed a long time at the solid gold pocket watch."

The Stranders all chuckled deviously, guessing where this was going.

Elisheva narrated the turning point of the story when Shawn and Dean have a brief scuffle. "During their argument, the two cousins hit a bookcase which turned out to be a false revolving wall. On the other side was a hidden room within the mansion—a Sea Captain's study. The two cousins were confused for a moment, then they saw the owner of the house, old Captain Westchester. The man was initially terrified, backing away saying "Please don't hurt me!, Please I'm sorry". However he calmed when Dean explained they were just delivery boys.

The Captain was a little edgy and doesn't get much sleep. Dean said the Captain looked like he could use more sleep, yet the Captain mentioned he's barely had more than a catnap of sleep in the past three years."

Her listeners exchanged confused glances.

"Curious, Shawn asked the Captain about his life's work. He tells them he did pillage and loot sunken ships, but he doesn't anymore. He would find and collect anything in the sunken ship that looked valuable.

Shawn thought it cool, meaning he found it excellent. But the Captain at once became stern. He snaps at him asking him if he really thinks that it's cool to slide a ring of a bony finger? Or to pull a necklace off a rotting skull?"

When Shawn responded yes, The Captain snaps at him saying it isn't. Because the reason he can't sleep now is because he's been cursed by the sea, for what he has done. Whenever he fell asleep he is visited by Water Demons. They were the angry, entitled ghosts of the victims who died at sea, who come back looking for what was taken from them.

The Captain added that they wanted to drag him back to their watery grave, as payback for stealing their valuables; They're not at rest, so they won't let him rest. For when the Captain sleeps is when they come...

Yet, the boys were skeptical but didn't say so, and they left. But there was one important detail Dean and the Captain did not yet notice, the solid gold pocket watch that Shawn was admiring earlier was no longer in the display case, it's not difficult to figure out that Shawn had taken it."

The listening Stranders chuckled deviously. This time Elisheva smirked slyly, more than ready to get to the spookier parts of the story.

"On their way out, the Captain sat in his chair desperately trying to stay awake. He drifts off and suddenly the ocean outside his house became quite foggy. Then ominous figures began shambling up to the mansion, their shadows falling upon the green lawn. The suddenly just as they're almost there, The Captain awakened in shock and alarm, in so doing, the figures and the fog vanished..."

Some of the Stranders, particularly those fond of thrilling stories, stared at Elisheva with rapt attention. They leaned forward, their eyes filled with curiosity and excitement, fully engrossed in the chilling details of the tale.

Podo, Tink and Maraly shared their intrigued expressions, wishing to know what happened next. Janner was getting goosebumps, yet he and Oskar listened to the scary tale wishing to commit this story to memory, in the event they survive their encounter with the Stranders.

Although mildly unnerved by the tale, Leeli acutely listened in with Nia wrapping an arm around her.

Elisheva continued her tale, moving on to the frightening parts. She smirked, noticing Claxton holding on to the edge of the stump a little too hard.

The story ended with Shawn's transformation, as he becomes more responsible and began working at the general convenience store, taking responsibility for the chocolate bars and gum he consumed and mailing Dean the money to cover the expenses.

"The End." Elisheva finished.

The clan snarled and voiced their acclaim, they hadn't enjoyed a new scary tale for quite some time. This outsider girl's story made a fine change of pace. The Igibys, Podo, and Oskar sat patiently, hopeful that perhaps they might make it out of this situation alive after all.

Claxton got up, and locked eyes with Elisheva. "Finished?"

"That was the end of that scary story." Elisheva replied.

"Your tale was thrillin' without a doubt," He admitted, then his face hardened. "But not enough to sway me. Take the children to the cages, same with this one!"

The Stranders pounced. Podo fought, but they were too many, and he disappeared beneath a pile of swinging fists and kicking legs. They bound his arms with rope and stood him up again. Strings of white hair clung to his sweaty, angry, trembling face.

Next, Nia and Oskar were bound, both speechless, and Claxton nodded at Maraly. She marched away with a shout, and the Stranders pushed the adults out of the firelight and toward the river. Janner, Tink, and Leeli watched in stunned silence as they were taken away.

"Wait!" Janner pleaded. "No! We just want to pass through! This isn't fair!" He felt a blinding pain on the side of his face and found himself on the ground, blinking away tears.

"Quiet, boy, or I'll hit you again," Claxton muttered.

The vicious stance of the Stranders gave Elisheva little hope of fighting back, but she wasn't going to go without a fight.

Elisheva reared her hand back, ready to fight with her fists, "Or maybe you could learn to quit pushing people around!"

With a scoff, Claxton pushed Elisheva to the ground. The twenty year old young woman fell on her left side, and when she moved her hair away from her face, she was glaring fiercely.

Lying on the ground, Janner saw the hem of Leeli's dress, orange in the glow of the fire. He saw the leather slipper on her good foot and the way her bad foot curled in on itself, the toe of the slipper rubbed bare where it dragged along the ground.

Beyond Leeli's feet, he saw Tink's feet, and his heart skipped a beat. Tink's toes wiggled inside his boots, and his right foot occasionally twisted back and forth in a way that made a circle in the dirt. He then noticed Tink was about to run, and he thinks his brother is going to attempt to escape without them.

Tink was fast, of course-probably faster than any of the Stranders-but even if he managed to get away, he had nowhere to go. North was the Barrier. South was the river. East was the Dark Sea. He might run west, toward Dugtown, but he wouldn't last long without Podo-or Janner, for that matter. What did he plan to do, alone in the wilderness?

Janner had to stop him. They stood a better chance together, and Podo and Nia had always urged the children to stay together at all costs.

Elisheva pulled Janner to his feet. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he whispered, shaking his head clear of the pain from Claxton's blow. "Be brave, Kal," Janner muttered to his little brother, "We just gotta-No!"

Janner tried to grab him, but it was too late-Tink broke away, bumped into Claxton, and leapt past the fire.

"Are you crazy?!" Elisheva had shrieked at Tink in shock.

"Coward!" Janner screamed, aiming all the anger in his heart at his brother's back. It felt good to say it, and he hoped it echoed in Tink's ears with every step he took away from them.

A pair of Stranders blocked Tink's path with spears, the boy spun around.

Tink spun around as Claxton grunted and marched over to pick him up by the front of Tink's vest. Podo attempted to intervene but he was prevented from doing so.

"You can't..." His eyes were wild with panic, shooting from Claxton to the Stranders to Nia and the others in the darkness beyond the firelight. For a moment his eyes rested on Janner with a look of sadness and confusion.

"Can't what?"

"You can't kill them!" Tink said in a quavering voice,

"Is that so?" Claxton snapped, "And why not?! I'm sick of all the talk and the stories and the threats. This is my clan, my bend in the river, and I'll draw my blade on whoever I want."

"Because you don't have...this!" Tink said with a smile that worked its way through all the terror on his face. He gripped it with a steady hand and looked calmly into the big man's eyes.

The Stranders gasped. Janner's jaw went slack. He had just called his brother a coward, and yet there he stood, face to face with a murderer.

"He took Claxton's own blade," one of the Stranders said.

Tink revealed several other items he'd swiped before he was tossed to the ground. As he sat up he looked at a tarnished leafy shaped medallion on a chain in his left hand. It dangled from his fist and sparkled in the firelight.

More gasps and murmurs issued from the Stranders. "The pone! He took Claxton's pone!"

"You gotta be kidding me." Elisheva groused from her spot.

"The kid swiped Claxton's pone!"

"He's the new clan Chief!"

Tink grinned proudly at all the comments. The Stranders pulled their weapons away from the others.

Claxton patted down his own coat and pockets to be certain then glared. "Doesn't count!"

"He swiped the pone, that's the rule." A Strander woman said.

"No, he's an outsider!" Claxton sneered. "And no one steals from me!" He struck Tink in the face so hard that the boy flew over the bench and landed in the shadows beyond it.

"Tink!" Leeli screamed.

Claxton laughed darkly. "Never try to game with Claxton Weaver, boy."

Then something happened that would be talked about on the Strand for a hundred years.

Something struck Claxton on the back of the head. With a look of great confusion and a knot sprouting on the back of his head, crumpled to the dirt, unconscious.

A bent old woman in a filthy dress with a twisted wooden cane stood there. Her face was warty and caked with mud, and she wore her hair in a grimy bun on top of her head. The Stranders fell silent.

"We Stranders got one rule." She said sternly, "And if my son can't follow it, then he's no clan chief."

Elisheva jumped when the old woman addressed her.

"And you, girl! You spin a fine tale. If there's anything we in the Strand have always liked, it's a good tale and a quick hand. And that be one scary tale worth telling twice, aye clan?"

"Aye!" the Stranders cheered.

Stunned, Elisheva observed Claxton's elderly mother, who seemed to hold some authority among the Stranders. Sensing a silent admiration in the woman's eyes, Elisheva decided to take a bold step and approached her with confidence.

The two spoke calmly. Then Elisheva asked evenly. "May I have your word on that, Ma'am?"

Recognizing the girl's fierce devotion and protective nature, the old woman nodded. "Whatever you can carry, girlie," she agreed, silently admiring Elisheva's gumption.

It was worth a try.

With a determined expression, Elisheva made her way past her discarded belongings, including her cherished gold Messianic necklace given to her by her deceased mother. Her footsteps were purposeful as she approached the rest of the Igibys, surprising Nia and Oskar a little. First, Elisheva coaxed Leeli into grabbing onto her shoulders, providing support for the little girl. Then, she turned to Janner and a reluctant Tink, determined to carry them both.

"This is crazy, I can walk, you know!" Tink mumbled, slightly taken aback by Elisheva's audacious plan.

With some effort, Elisheva adjusted their weight under her arms, ensuring their comfort and stability. Not for nothing had she carried heavy bags of books and groceries every day for years since the fourth grade.

She exchanged a brief nod with Claxton's mother, conveying a silent understanding. With the three children securely perched close, Elisheva began walking towards the safety of the woods. Sure it may take a while but if it can get them safely to Dugtown…

The Stranders watched in shocked surprise, and then burst out laughing. Maraly smacked her knee, doubling over with mirth, while the elderly woman laughed so hard she had to lean on her cane for support.

"Wait!" she called to Elisheva, her voice almost muffled by the howls of laughter from the other Stranders. "Come on back! Sit by the fire, you're spending the night all of you!"

Elisheva, looked to the three children, a mixture of relief, amusement, and shock evident on their faces. Leeli grinned, grateful for Elisheva's courage. Janner and Tink's faces were mixture of amusement and shock.

Nia, Oskar, and Podo were freed and ran back into the circle. They hugged the children and Elisheva then fussed over Tink.

"What's yer name?" The old woman then asked Tink.

"Kalmar." Tink straightened.

"Kalmar," the old woman said, and she spat. "By the one rule of the East Bend, you're the Strander Chief now! You and yours'll have no shelter, but the fire is yours if you like. And your sturdy wildcat there?"

"Elisheva Bennet, Ma'am." Elisheva shrugged, holding up her hands.

"Argh. You got pluck, but a little cunning goes a long way." Then she hobbled over to Podo, batting her eyes at him. "Podo Helmer," she said, jabbing him with the cane. "You're not as handsome as ye used to be, old man. But me heart is still yours if ye'll have it."

"Nurgabog?" Podo asked, flabbergasted.

"Aye. It's me." The old woman smiled, and her leathery, wrinkled face creaked in protest.

The Stranders whispered and pointed like they were seeing some rare animal for the first time.

"I never thought I'd see ye again, but here ye stand, as ugly as a digtoad and naught but one full leg-and still I want to kiss you a thousand times."

"Nurgabog, dear, it's fine to see ye," Podo said, backing up a little. "Why didn't you say somethin' when we first showed up? If you didn't plan to toss us in the river at all, it might've saved us a fat lot of worry."

"I let 'em tie ye up because half of me heart would be happy to see you thrashing in the Blapp while ye sank! You left me fifty-five years ago without a word—and that was when I still had me teeth!" She sighed. "But the half of me heart that still wants to smooch won out, I reckon. I wouldn't have let 'em kill my sweet Podo."

"Thank ye, Nurgabog. You're as pretty as ever ye were."

She answered with a whack of her cane. "Don't you lie to me, old man! I know I'm ugly as a riverweed! Now listen. We Stranders of the East Bend will offer you a few days' rest on account of Kalmar's quick hand, the devoted wildcat there and your fine looks fifty- five years ago on one condition."

Podo winced.

"I want one deep, satisfyin' kiss from yer grizzled lips, Podo Helmer. Been waitin' for it long enough."

Nurgabog hobbled forward, closed her eyes, puckered her lips, and waited.

Podo took a deep breath, leaned closer, and gulped. It was like watching someone about to eat a rat.

Both Stranders and Igibys alike stood rapt and silent. Elisheva looked as though she were trying very hard not to laugh. Janner clamped his eyes shut and heard a long, wet kiss, then Nurgabog's girlish sigh.

The Stranders burst into applause as Nurgabog tottered away. Podo wiped his mouth with his forearm and watched her go with a look of fondness, sadness, and nausea.

Then the Stranders cheered and rushed to where Tink lay. They stood him up and brushed him off, chattering about his quick feet and quicker hands.

Maraly offered him a wad of damp cloth for his bloody lip and sat him on the bench. "Me dad's had that comin' for a long time," she said, and she kissed Tink on the cheek.

His ears turned red as sugarberries, and he grinned so wide that his cheeks stuck that way for an hour. The clan dispersed, nodding at Tink as they passed. They paid no more mind to the Igibys than to the dirt in their teeth.

Tink swaggered over with a hand to the wound on the side of his head.

"Amazing!" Janner said. "That was amazing."

Tink shrugged.

"Listen." Janner apologized. "I'm sorry. Sorry I called you a coward. Sorry I doubted you."

Tink toed at the dirt, took a deep breath, and nodded. "It's okay."

Janner hugged Tink as tight as he could, and he didn't care that Tink was too shocked to hug him back.

"So how did you do it?" Leeli asked. "How did you steal the pone?"

"I noticed Grandpa slipping the coins and knives from the Stranders as soon as we got here," Tink said. "You can tell from the way their clothes hang whether there's anything tucked in there and if it's simple to snatch. It's easy, really."

"Ha!" Podo said as he approached. "Easy as pickin' a totato from the vine, ain't it, lad? I tried to get somethin' from Claxton but couldn't get close enough to 'im. Do ye realize what you did back there, Tink?"

"Picked the clan leader's pocket?" he said.

"Aye, but ye didn't just snag any old thing. You got his pone! Do ye know what that means?"

"I guess not."

"Don't let it go to yer head, but it means that for now, you're the clan leader. The boss of this bend in the river." Podo beamed with pride. "My grandson."

Tink's face went pale. "Oh no. Do I have to do anything? What am I supposed to do?"

"Not a thing," Podo chuckled. "We'll be leavin' soon enough, and they'll choose another leader. Besides, a clan leader ain't in charge of anything. He does what he pleases, and the rest of the clan has to do what he pleases too. Bein' a clan leader ain't about havin' responsibility-it's about havin' none at all."

"Whatever I want," Tink smirked. He liked the sound of that.

Two Stranders appeared and dropped the family's packs to the ground.

"Old Nurgabog told us to put everything back," one of them said.

"Our thanks," Podo answered.

The Stranders left the Igibys free to sit around the fire and inspect their packs. Janner found his old book, his tinderbox and matches, his folding knife and his bow, his dried meat and mirror. As far as he could tell, his belongings were all accounted for.

"It's all here," Nia said. She turned to her father. "You never told me you ran with the Stranders."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Tink asked.

"Because it's not somethin' I'm proud of," Podo said. "Just because it makes for a good story doesn't mean I wouldn't go back and change it if I could." He looked at Nia. "There's much I ain't told ye, daughter, and much I don't mean to ever tell."

When Elisheva awoke, the next morning was foggy. It draped the ground, creeping up from the river and collecting in eerie pools around tree trunks and depressions in the land, coursing between the rickety buildings that made up the settlement of the clan of the East Bend. The structures were made of planks and shutter boards, leftovers from the ravaging of Skree at the end of the Great War. Shabby and unkempt, constructed without imagination or care. Stranders slept in or near the shacks, nothing for their beds but dirt, no pillows but their dingy hair and dirty arms. Beyond the shacks, deeper in the fog, squatted the cages.

There was nothing inside them, and the iron gates hung open. Try as she might, Elisheva couldn't shake the suspicion they weren't meant for animals.

Nope, there's something fishy going on here.

Janner had awakened to find Tink playing tackleball with Maraly, and he joined in while Elisheva hung back. She still didn't trust Maraly.

Twenty minutes later the others woke up, Podo prepared a breakfast of oatmeal and diggle strips. Janner plopped on the stump beside him, winded, wounded, and filthy from tackleball.

"Good morning!" Oskar said, Janner's old book was open in the old man's lap, and beside him on a stump were a few pieces of parchment and an ink bottle. "I've been working on this since I woke. The language isn't so different from Old Hollish after all. Look." He held out a piece of parchment on which he had scribbled several lines.

"What does it say?" Janner asked.

"A fine question, lad. A fine question." Oskar's face fell. "I'll have to ask your mother. I can't remember much of Old Hollish other than the look of the letters. All I'm doing is sorting out the new letters from the ancient ones. Once I have a page finished, your mother and I will set to work translating it."

"Made a friend, have ye?" Podo asked as Tink sprinted past the fire with Maraly at his heels.

"I guess so," Janner said. "Tink has, at least."

"Well eat some breakfast and then we tread on. Every day we're out here, the Fangs have more time to widen the search. It's taken us longer to get to Dugtown than I thought it would, and the Ice Prairies aren't gettin' any closer."

Leeli and Nia returned from the river, their hair and faces dripping wet.

"The shoal was safe, then?" asked Podo.

"No daggerfish, and it was right where your old sweetheart told us it was," Nia said.

Podo rolled his eyes. "Nurgabog gave me this." He held up Claxton's pone medallion. "Said if we ran into any more trouble from Stranders between here and Dugtown, the pone would give us safe passage. Claxton's a feared man, she says."

"Feared by everyone but Tink," Leeli said.

"Aye, lass. He did good last night, didn't he?"

Tink lurched past, hugging the ball to his chest while Maraly clung to his back and pounded on his ribs.

"If we don't run into any trouble," Podo said, "we'll reach Dugtown by dark. Nurgabog told me where to find a river burrow."

"A what?" Elisheva asked.

"A Strander hideout. We can stay there while we make arrangements in Dugtown to get past the Barrier and up to the Ice Prairies. The Stony Mountains'll be too cold for Fangs and too rugged for travelers. All we'll have to fend from will be the snickbuzzards."

"And the bomnubbles," Oskar said.

"Aye, and the bomnubbles."

At Elisheva's questioning look Oskar explained. "They're a terrible breed," Oskar said. "Nigh impossible to kill. I remember reading in Pembrick's Creaturepedia that —" He broke off at a glance from Podo. "Er, I'm sure we won't see any."

When the smell of oatmeal and diggle strips reached Tink's nose, he dropped the tackleball without a word, plopped down at the fire, and smacked his lips.

"Boys, wash your hands, Elisheva you too." Nia said, and she told them how to find the safe shoal. The brothers and the older girl squatted at the sandy shore and dipped their hands in the water. Before them the Mighty Blapp slipped past on its way to Fingap Falls; the opposite shore was lined with the trees of Glipwood Forest.

"I like Maraly a lot," Tink said.

"She's, uh, nice, I guess. A little rough, don't you think?" Janner asked.

"Not that rough."

"Well I don't." Elisheva grumbled. "Save for maybe the old lady, I don't have to like ANY of those crooks."

Tink pouted. Janner didn't say anything. They washed in silence for a moment.

"She told me I'd make a good Strander," Tink said.

Elisheva scoffed. "Yeah, right and I'm next the prophetess following right in Miriam's footsteps."

Janner laughed. "Yeah. You'd make a terrible Strander. You're too smart for them. Besides, you're no thief. You're no killer, either. And You're the High King of Anniera, remember?"

They walked back to the camp in silence.

Right after they ate, they heard a strange sound. Like people were banging on wooden objects with sticks but not to make music.

"It's a Strander call to be sure." Podo grimly confirmed.

Everyone became unnerved.

"Aye." Nurgabog emerged, she looked concerned. She stood before Podo, her freckled hands folded over the handle of the cane. She pursed and unpursed her lips so that her whiskery chin bobbed up and down like a cork in the water.

"What Claxton's awake, and he brought a posse?" Elisheva got to her feet. "That's what that clicking-clacking's about?"

"No, girlie. Claxton's curled up in his shack like a sick kitten. It means the Black Carriage is on it's way. It comes more often these days."

Elisheva gasped sharply.

Tink stared in utter disbelief. "Just like home."

Podo dropped his bowl and leapt to his foot. "Where? When?"

"From the North Road. The Barrier's not far from here, and one of our scouts said he seen a gang of 'em comin' this way. They weren't due for several days yet, and now we've got to scramble to get ready for 'em. You need to scat. Take the River Road. Ye'll see Stranders aplenty but no Fangs. Things are gonna happen in the East Bend that neither you nor your family should see." Nurgabog smiled a crooked smile. "That kiss last night was the closest me withered heart will find to goodness before I meet the Maker and all his wrath, I fear."

With a tap of her cane, Nurgabog declared the conversation over and hobbled away.

The Stranders were busy strapping on their sheaths and sharpening daggers. They cast nervous glances at a road that stretched north toward the wooded hills. The Strander children, including Maraly, were nowhere to be seen.

"Something bad is going to happen," Leeli said.

Podo sensed it too and dumped the grease from the skillet and thrust it into his pack without wiping it down. "Janner, Tink, get ready. Elisheva, you too. Hurry!"

Oskar passed the old book to Janner and gathered his ink bottle and parchment, careful not to smudge the fresh ink. Janner's and Tink's packs needed only to be strapped shut and swung over their shoulders.

"But we can't go, I'm the Strander Chief!" Tink protested.

Nurgabog smiled fondly, "Oh, I'm sure you'll be back to rule us again someday, lad."

As soon as Nia finished gathering the bowls and cups from breakfast, Podo took a last look around the fire and nodded. "Keep up, lads and lasses. You too, Oskar. We're gonna be off at a trot for a while, and it won't be fun."

"Wait!" Tink said. "I need to say good-bye to Maraly."

"No time for that, lad," Podo said.

"But-"

"No time!"

Podo struck off in the direction of the river, and the others did their best to follow. "Maraly!" Tink cried over his shoulder. "Good-bye, Maraly!"

But neither Maraly nor any of the Strander children were anywhere to be seen- just filthy men and women who poured out of the camp with daggers drawn and nefarious smiles stretched across every face.

As they descended the slope to the river and the camp of the East Bend disappeared, there was a final, chilling cry ring out from Nurgabog Weaver: "READY THE CAGES!"

Conversation was a waste of precious breath, so they moved in silence. The rise and fall of the land gradually settled into a flat, grassy bottomland, a wild green in contrast to the muddy road and the gray-brown course of the river.

They had been running with little rest for half the day, and finally Podo led them at a walk. They veered off the road and crossed the green bottomland to the trees so there would be no question that they intended to enter the Strander camp. When Podo approached, three men rushed forward, hissing and swinging daggers. Podo stood his ground and held Claxton's pendant in the air.

The Stranders stopped in their tracks a few steps away. "That's Claxton Weaver's pone, but you ain't Claxton Weaver," one of them said suspiciously.

"No, I ain't," Podo said. "But I got his pone all the same, so if you're wise, yell let us tread on without trouble."

The three men considered this in silence. "Tell us how you swiped Claxton's pone. If we believe ye, we'll let you traipse the Middle Bend. Aye?" Podo glanced at Tink.

But would these Stranders believe that an eleven-year-old boy had thieved Claxton Weaver's pone?

"Truth is," Podo said, stepping aside and putting his hand on Tink's shoulder, "this young feller swiped it. Pulled it clean out of Claxton's tunic just last night in the East Bend. Left Claxton so befuddled that he didn't notice the boy swiped his dagger too."

The Stranders raised their dirty eyebrows at Tink. "This boy swiped the pone?"

"Aye," Podo said. "Ask him if ye like."

One of the men narrowed his eyes and stepped forward. Tink stood still as a fence post. "You expect us to believe that you're the one that lifted the pone, boy?"

Tink gulped and nodded. Podo reached for his dagger. But the Strander grinned and slapped Tink on the back. "Then I reckon you're none other than Kalmar," he said. "You can come near anytime, lad. Got word from one of the East Benders that Claxton Weaver was finally knocked from his heap. Well done, young feller. Claxton had it comin' for a long time. Tread on, then."

The Stranders slipped into the trees and were gone.

"Tink, you're famous!" Janner said, and Tink smiled from ear to muddy ear.

'This is gonna bite us in the butt, I just know it.' Elisheva worried.

The group moves onwards, going to the Strander river burrow Nurgabog had told them about to rest and agree it to be a meeting place in the event they're separated. Two dashes and a right scurry will take them to a crux. Stay right after that.

Podo had to show Claxton's pone to three more Strander clans that day, each less threatening than the one before. Only the first clan showed any sign of having heard the rumor of Kalmar Wingfeather's quick hands, but Podo assured Tink the tale would ride the tongues of storytellers for a few years at least and the details would double and triple in size. Tink laughed, but Janner could tell something was on his mind.

The closer they drew to Dugtown, the worse the road got. Everywhere one looked there were potholes and broken wagon wheels, abandoned shanties, stray dogs with missing legs or eyes or fur. Mud caked everything and sucked the color from the world.

After a few more encounters with Stranders, the Strand changed. What had been grassy bottomlands became worn-down farmsteads, sagging fences, and hogpigs snorting in muddy fields. Before, they traveled alone but for the occasional Stranders, but now scrawny chickens squawked across the road, and poor, sad-faced men and women stood in silence and watched the group pass with dull interest.

The Wester Strand, was a listless place, a string of shacks as bent and bony as the people who dwelt there. The water crept downstream so flat and slow that it seemed less like a river than a long, narrow lake. Podo nodded to himself and announced they were clear of the Stranders.

"Then this is Dugtown?" Leeli asked.

"No, lass. We're close, though." He lowered his voice. "These poor folk live along the Strand but aren't so mean yet that they're willing to make their beds with the clans farther east. They're content to try to make their way by plantin' seeds and raisin' beasts. Too poor to live in Torrboro, too honest to scrape by in Dugtown, not yet vile enough to throw in with the Stranders. They live their lives with a mighty sorrow."

As the company moved on, most of the mud farmers—as Podo called them, though not without pity— ignored them, but some stood up from the fields where they were unearthing stones in the way of the plow, or stopped hammering a rotten plank to a rotten structure with a rusty nail, or peered out their windows to watch the group as they passed.

"Has it always been like this?" Elisheva asked, her eyes wandering about.

"No, lass, not always," Podo said over his shoulder.

"But for far too long," Oskar said, "that's certain. For many years the Stranders have made trouble along the river. These poor, tired folk have suffered between the indifference of the elite in Torrboro and the hostility of the ruthless in Dugtown and the Strand."

"Someone should do something," Leeli said quietly.

"What would they do?" Janner asked. "It seems like the whole world is as awful as it is here."

"Things weren't this bad in Glipwood," Tink said.

"No, but it didn't take much to tip the scales," Janner said. "In just a few days, the town was deserted and the Fangs moved in. Everything in Skree is as bad as it is for these mud farmers. It's just that here we can see it for what it is."

"Someone should do something," Leeli said again, this time in a feisty tone.

Everyone knew better than to challenge her. She was right. Podo stopped at the top of a gradual incline. To the right stood another cluster of tired buildings. Chickens chattered and pecked at the din, and a fat rooster perched on the roof of one building. An old man snored on the porch, a wad of rags his pillow. Behind the house stretched a fallow field bordered at the rear by a stand of scrub trees. To the left and down the slope coursed the Mighty Blapp, which was now any-thing but mighty.

"What is it?" Tink asked as he approached. "Oh."

"Aye, that's Dugtown," Podo said. "I've not seen it for a great many years."

Elisheva walked over to look at the view.

The city lay in the distance like a bruise on the green land. The shacks on either side of the River Road grew in number and were absorbed into the sprawl of Dugtown. There were so many streets and angles in such disarray. Buildings stood three and four stories tall, constructed at odd angles, as if each level were an afterthought. At some unknown signal, a ringing of bells erupted from the city—first one, then a few more, then what seemed to be thousands of bells clanged like a swarm of invisible, metallic bats rushing into the night. Above the buildings were hundreds of wooden towers, rickety and thin, scattered across the city like ugly weeds sprouted from ugly grass. At the sound of the bells, a fire was lit on the platform at the top of each tower. The flames rose as high as a man, and on each of the towers nearest them, there was a figure standing watch.

A city lit by a hundred giant torches should have been beautiful, but the place looked like something right out of a dystopian novel.

"Is that Torrboro?" Leeli asked, pointing at the other side of the river.

Elisheva turned to see the fine, soaring walls of Torrboro in the distance. The Palace Torr crouched near the river like a giant animal. The tallest tower was the tail, and the palace walls bulged and curved to give the impression of the animal's legs and bulk—

"A cat?" Janner asked.

Oskar chuckled. "A kitten, to be precise. You'll see the same theme repeated often in Torrboro's architecture. A most unfortunate obsession of the Torr Dynasty, I'm afraid. In the words of Verbichude Yay, the famed art critic, 'Ugh. Might they have thought of something else?"

Torrboro shone in happy contrast to Dugtown. Its wide, paved streets wound in graceful curves, and the majority of its buildings were of pale, creamy stone. At the river front were many boats moored to docks, and Janner detected the movement of what must have been thousands of people bustling to and fro. The mass of people and activity was somewhat more reassuring. It didn't give off that same claustrophobic, sinking feeling from Dugtown.

Elisheva then remembered her initial four step plan before the Glipwood Fangs discovered her secret. However Janner asked the question on her mind.

"Why can't we go to Torrboro instead?" Janner asked.

"Because the Fangs are thicker there," Podo said. "See that palace? That's where General Khrak resides. The meanest Fang of them all."

"He commanded the invading armies," Oskar said. "He's shrewd—not your ordinary brute Fang. He's probably sitting in the palace right now, trying to figure out how to get his claws on the lot of us."

"Oh." Elisheva winced.

"Aye, which is why we're not headed that way," Podo said. "It's easy to get lost in Dugtown, and that means it's easy to hide. The Fangs are in Dugtown plenty, but they're not there so much to patrol as to carouse. They like the taverns and the filth and the shadows. They're there for fun, and so they're not as like to interfere with a traveler on the street unless they have to."

Janner saw movement on the road ahead. "Grandpa, look."

"Eh?"

Janner pointed. Podo sucked in a breath. "Fangs!" he said. "Follow me!" He bolted into the house where the old man slept on the porch. Chickens scattered. Elisheva, Oskar, Nia, and the children hurried after Podo into the shadowy old building. The old man stirred and muttered a few garbled words but kept sleeping.

Once inside, it was dark. Podo's familiar tap-clunk and his raspy gripe: "Been so long I can scarce remember how to find the..."

Then came the rattle and clomp outside of armored Fangs on the march. It didn't sound like a large unit, but it was enough to make any of them tremble.

The harsh sound of a Fang's voice came from outside, and the old man on the stoop woke with a grunt.

Podo had them go down the cellar steps carefully. The wooden steps creaked as the family and Oskar moved down into darkness, but not loud enough to alert the Fangs, who questioned the old man on the porch. Podo pulled the trapdoor shut above them. He removed his pack in the darkness, fished about inside for a match, then lit it. They stood at the foot of a stair in a damp cellar.

The Fangs aren't the smartest creatures in Aerwiar, but even the dullest of them would know to search the cellar. For some reason, though, Podo didn't look worried. Instead, he ran his fingers along the seams in the stone wall, still mumbling to himself. Footsteps thumped somewhere in the house above them. The group stood silent and terrified. Podo crept to another wall, still feeling the stones for something.

There was a click, and in a corner of the cellar floor, another trapdoor swung down, spilling the dirt that had covered it and revealing the first few rungs of a wooden ladder. Podo used the last seconds of the match light to point down. As quiet as mice, they all crept down the ladder into the Strander burrow. At the top of the ladder, after Podo clicked the trapdoor back into place, he tugged a string that dangled from the top rung. As Podo later explained, the string wound through a hole in the stone floor, behind a beam in the cellar wall, and up to the ceiling of the cellar, where it was attached to a mechanism that released a pan of dirt through a grid of holes. With a muted pool, the dirt landed atop the conspicuous square of the trapdoor and concealed it. The Fangs who leapt into the cellar a moment later were certain they caught the sharp scent of a match recently struck, but it was a mystery they couldn't solve, as the old man on the porch swore again and again that he had seen no one enter the house.

They stayed still until the sounds were gone, then Podo lit a match revealing they were some sort of man-made tunnel.

Following the instructions they were given, they walked on until they reached their destination.

They stood in a chamber the size of a small living room, bare of everything but a lantern on the floor beside the ladder. The walls were a yellow, crumbling rock, the same color as the sand on the floor. Podo lit the lantern and made a quick search of the area before he was satisfied that, for the time being at least, they were safe.

"More tunnels." Janner shrugged.

"This is a burrow lad." Podo gently corrected, "Stranders hunker down in these for days."

And he began climbing up a thick wooden ladder after examining a rag cloth on one of the steps. Most likely, another Strander code.

"When do we go to Dugtown?" asked Leeli.

"We're already here." Podo said grimly.

They climbed out of a trapdoor and into an old dusty house. Judging by the state of the furniture, whoever lived there had left in a hurry.

"Stranders marked this house as abandoned." Podo explained.

"Looks like it." said Nia.

Oskar was the last one up.

"Wingfeathers, Miss Bennet. Welcome to Dugtown."

Elisheva glanced out the window and felt her heart sink. "Oh. Zev, Daddy, where are you?" her voice had a fearful, somber tone.

Outside was the vast expanse of (one side of) Dugtown. It looked like the the french town of Conques meshed altogether with the slums of Victorian era London.

To be continued…

Author's note: They've reached Dugtown. But their troubles are far from over. Please remember to read and review, it helps my morale.