Elisheva was bewildered by how fast everything became chaotic.
Men and women surged onto the ship, shoved the Kimeran crew aside, and lunged at Kalmar, who snarled and bared his teeth. Artham, Nia, Podo, and the Kimerans were stunned. Kalmar crouched like a dog about to pounce.
"Kalmar, no!" Janner screamed, and Kalmar's face quivered and his growl turned into a howl of anguish. He looked at Janner with unbearable sadness and curled into a ball at Janner's feet.
Janner had time to fall over his little brother to shield him as the Hollowsfolk seized them both. He wrapped his arms around Kalmar and gritted his teeth against the pain in his legs and back, clinging to his brother among screams of "Fang!" and "monster!" until Kalmar was torn from his embrace.
Zev was accidentally knocked backwards onto the ship deck. "Wait, stop!"
When Kalmar was dragged away, the Hollowsfolk kicked him and pummeled him with their fists.
Leeli screamed and Artham screeched Kalmar's name as the little wolf stretched out his hand toward Nia and Podo. They struggled against the onrush of Hollowsfolk, shocked by the violence of the crowd's reaction.
Nia beat at a Hollish man who held her back as she screamed for order, but no one listened. Janner and Elisheva alike fought to push through the crowd, but it was too thick and too angry. One of the men grabbed Janner by the arm and held him fast. Cutting through all the noise was the heartbreaking sound of Kalmar, yelping like a hurt puppy.
Elisheva could hardly believe that these same people had been cheering their arrival only moments before. Their faces, once so bright with welcome, were now dark with fear and anger. Mob mentality strikes.
Another sound thundered out and cut through the chaos at last. Rudric leaped onto the Enramere's deck. He swung a war hammer with all his might and struck the main mast so hard that the whole ship shook.
"I said, 'STOP!'" Rudric bellowed.
And they did.
Rudric's face was red and his eyes burned. He held the hammer in one hand and clenched the other into a fist. His chest was thrust out, and the front of his tunic looked ready to rip open. "If you would contend with Rudric ban Yorna, then so be it! Riot away." He glared at the crowd and bared his teeth, daring anyone to challenge him.
The main mast creaked and groaned, then splintered where Rudric's hammer had struck it. It groaned again and toppled over the starboard side, pulling timber, sail, and line into the sea, leaving only a stump where Rudric stood.
"Unhand the beast and let the Queen of Anniera speak!" Rudric bellowed. "Olliver, release her!"
Nia jerked her arms away from the man and rushed to Kalmar's side.
One by one the Hollowsfolk backed away until only one man remained. He stood with his foot on Kalmar's back and held a sword over his head. "It's a Fang, Rudric," the man spat. "Would you have it loose in the Hollows?"
"If the Queen of Anniera has something to say in the matter, I think you'd best hear it before she tears you to pieces, Bunge."
The man glanced at the crowd, then down at Kalmar, then finally at Nia. She rose, fierce and defiant, and stood nose to nose with the man. Bunge lowered his sword and stepped aside.
"Queen or not, it is no small thing to bring a Grey Fang to our shores." Rudric lowered his war hammer and looked intently at Nia. "Do you understand?"
"I do."
"Then I ask you, not as your old friend but as the Keeper of the Hollows, why have you done it?"
"Because," Nia's voice caught in her throat. She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. "Because he's my son."
The crowd gasped.
Even Rudric was shaken. He looked at Kalmar, who hunkered at Nia's feet, whimpering. "This is the son of Esben Wingfeather?"
Nia wiped a tear from her cheek, as if irritated it was there. She looked as if she wanted to speak but couldn't.
Rudric approached her and lowered his voice. "I'm sorry, Nia. But I'm the Keeper now. We have to deal with this in the council." He clenched his jaw and turned to the man called Bunge. "Don't hurt it. Take it to the dungeon."
When Bunge moved toward Kalmar, Artham stepped forward and stood between them.
Nia put a hand on his shoulder. "Artham, don't. My people have their ways. If we're going to make a home here, we have to do this by their rules. We can't keep running. We have nowhere else to go."
Artham hesitated, then knelt and whispered something in Kalmar's ear and moved away. Artham could have flung off the canvas, spread his wings, and sent the Hollowsfolk scampering if he wanted. He could have gathered Kalmar up and flown to safety. Janner wanted to act, but if Artham was unwilling to stop Kalmar's arrest, then he must have a good reason.
Nia knelt and looked Kalmar in the eye. "Everything's going to be all right. One way or another, we'll come for you tomorrow. Understand?"
Kalmar nodded. Nia kissed his head, and then Rudric gave a signal and Bunge jerked Kalmar to his feet.
"Bunge!" Rudric snapped. "Don't hurt it."
Bunge scowled but bowed his head stiffly to Rudric. A Hollish sailor tied Kalmar's arms behind him, and then they led him away.
Elisheva and Zev exchanged grim glances. They'd hoped to somehow convince the Hollowsfolk to aid them in rescuing their father, but it looks as though things have gotten far complicated.
Rudric slid his war hammer back into the loop on his belt. "Nia, I know you're angry and you don't want to trust me right now. I'll make sure he's fed and well-treated. The Hollows is still a place of welcome-"
"Spare us your talk," Podo said, stepping forward. "If ye have a place for me family and me crew, we'll take it with gratitude. But now's not the time for words. The only thing we have to talk about is when we're going to get young Kalmar back."
Rudric looked from Podo to Nia and back again, then nodded. "Danniby here will show you and your men to your lodgings. I'll send someone to fetch you in the morning once I've gathered the seven chiefs. Then we'll discuss the Fang." Rudric turned to Podo and the Kimerans. "Sorry about the mainmast." He strode away.
When the crowd dispersed, a slight, bearded Hollish fellow (the youngsters soon learned they all had beards) in a black cape stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Greetings. They call me Danniby. If you'll follow me, you'll find some beds, berries, and bibes."
"Bibes?" Leeli asked.
"Aye, bibes. Short for imbibes, I suppose. Stuff good for drinking, that is, like ciders, juices, milk of goat, that sort of thing. Anyone like a hot meal and a bibe?"
After some confusion, everyone on the ship raised a hand even the Bennet siblings. Janner saw the worry on Nia's face, but Rudric's assurance eased the tension they all felt. Even with Kalmar in the dungeon it was hard not to look forward to a regular bed and a good meal.
"Bibes it is, then," Danniby said. "Come with me."
The Kimerans debarked in single file, many of them pausing when they reached the dock to kiss the planks and thank the Maker for a safe voyage. "We've got berry bibes, grape bibes, apple bibes, and cherry bibes. You name the fruit-we've likely got a bibe for it," Danniby said as he led the Kimerans away.
"Good men, those Kimerans," Podo said. "Left their homes in Skree just to get us here safe and strong. I hope they sleep well."
"Aye," said Oskar, trying to sound like a sailor again. "In the words of Boyg McKrowlin, 'Good gravy! They've earned it.' And so have I, if I say so myself. Standing around on this old broken ship isn't going to free Kalmar any sooner. Highness?"
Nia tried to smile. "You're right. It's time you children ate something other than glipper fish and old oats."
"I like that man," Leeli said.
"Rudric?" Janner asked.
"Yeah, the big one. I don't think he wants anything bad to happen to Kalmar. Hopefully." Elisheva said.
"I've known Rudric since we were children," said Nia, "And I think I know his heart. This will be sorted out soon."
"I'd bet my bibes on it," Podo said. "Now you all run along."
"You aren't coming?" Artham asked as he adjusted the canvas over his wings.
"I'd like to stay here for a spell," Podo said, gazing out at the dark horizon beyond the mouth of the harbor. "It's my last chance to feel a boat rocking beneath me feet. I half wish I'd been knocked overboard by one of them stones, to tell the truth. Not only would I have deserved it, but my last breath would have been seawater. That's how a sailor ought to go."
Elisheva sighed, sticking her hands in her pockets. This was a bittersweet thing to swallow for Podo.
Janner watched Podo's back, wondering what was going on in his stormy old heart. All those years in Glipwood, Podo had avoided the cliffs, avoided ever looking out over the Dark Sea, especially on Dragon Day. Ban Rona was a seaside town, where Podo would be reminded with every lift of the breeze that he was banned from the waters he so loved. Now that Janner had seen him sail, it was hard to imagine him happy on land.
"Papa, you're not just a sailor." Nia put her hand on his back. "You're a father and a grandfather, and there's plenty of life yet to live. Say your goodbyes and come with your family. We need you."
"Please, Grandpa," said Leeli.
Podo pulled his eyes from the waters, his bushy eyebrows trembling with emotion. Finally, he stepped away from the broken mast, picked up his legbone from where it lay on the deck, and let Leeli lead him down the plank to the dock. At the last step, he paused and looked down into the black waters lapping at the hull.
"There you have it, dragons," he said. "Scale Raker will trouble yer waters no more. I thank thee for safe passage."
When Podo stepped from the plank to the pier, the center of the harbor bubbled, and out of the sea rose a dark mass of serpentine shapes. They swayed and rumbled and roiled the waters, till Yurgen, the oldest one, flung open his jaws and roared. The torches on the pier sputtered in the wind of the dragon's bellow, and Podo froze with his back to the sea, eyes closed and head low.
Elisheva and Zev, their hearts pounding with trepidation, involuntarily flinched, their bodies instinctively recoiling in a disquieted manner. They hadn't forgotten how the dragons had attacked the ship back in Kimera, it was quite a frightening memory.
"Er, Let's get you to solid ground, shall we?" Elisheva said anxiously.
Leeli was frantic. She took Podo's hand in both of hers and pulled, dropping her crutch and hopping on one foot. Podo finally took another step, then another, each one bringing him closer to solid ground and farther from the Dark Sea.
When at last Podo stepped from the pier to the cobbled street of Ban Rona, the dragons disappeared as quickly as they had come.
Podo took a deep breath, smiled down at Leeli, and said, "Now, then. Let's have some bibes. Me drinker is dry and me eater is empty. Which way did that Danniby fella go?"
It took while to notice what just was so strange about Ban Rona. As they walked the clean streets of the city, they passed wagons and clusters of people walking in conversation. Many of the houses boasted gardens in the front so that one had to pass between bright flowers and totatoes on the vine to reach the front steps. Men and women sat outside on benches, puffing pipes or munching on grapes, laughing in the cool of the night.
And to Zev's delight, every house, had a dog. Not just a dog, but a big dog. Their tails waving like flags in the windows. Plenty curled up on the landings and chasing sticks, dogs of different colors and breeds, but all of them at least twice as big as Nugget had been-before the water from the First Well, anyway. More than once, one of the dogs padded out to greet Leeli and Zev as they passed, as if they sensed in the younger ones a great store of affection with nowhere else to go.
"The people aren't afraid," Janner said, finally realizing what was so different. "It's after dark, the streets are full, and there are no Fangs slithering about. Everyone's happy. I've never seen that before."
"Yeah, it's not NYC but it's pretty cool." Elisheva comments, "It's kinda nice to walk into a place that's a little more cheerful. "
"It's the way it was and the way it should be," Artham said. "All the work has been done, dinner is on the table, and the children are alight with a final burst of energy before bed. That's when stories get told. Look."
They passed a lawn where a fire crackled in a stone ring. A grandmother sat on a bench with a book in her lap, reading to a circle of children gathered at her feet. Whistleharp music drifted to their ears, and with it the sound of singing. There was the scent of something delicious as they passed a window where a family sat around a table. It reminded Elisheva of the Dragon Day Festival in Glipwood, where she'd seen Armulyn the Bard singing.
But here, no one was afraid. There were no Fangs to be afraid of.
Janner spotted the Kimerans a few streets ahead as they rounded a corner after Danniby. The climb up the hill from the waterfront was gradual, but after their sea voyage, Janner and the others were unused to long walks, so by the time they turned the corner after the crew, they were all breathing a little harder.
Oskar, however, was spry as a thwap, grinning as he marched in front, wide eyed and looking everywhere at once. "Walking the streets of Ban Rona!" he said to himself between grunts. "Never thought in an epoch that I'd sail across the Dark Sea! Firepits! Flower beds! Oh, Maker, let there be books too."
Danniby waited beneath a shingle that read THE ORCHARD INN AND COOKERY. He smiled and swung open the door as they approached, and the smell of pumpkin and cinnamon and butter wafted over. The Kimerans had already found seats around wooden tables or near the fire blazing in the stone hearth. Hollowsfolk turned and studied the sailors, but there was only curiosity, no malice or suspicion. After a moment, the locals returned to their conversations and their food, leaving the weary crew to themselves.
Oskar squeezed through the room to an open table and waved the others over. As soon as Nia was seated, he plopped into his chair and tucked a napkin into the collar of his tunic.
A fair woman with her hair in a bun approached the table and stood with her hands on her hips. "Welcome, travelers. Danniby likes my pumpkin bread or else you'd be at a different inn right now." Her eyes passed over each of them till they landed on Nia. "So is it true?"
"Is what true?" Nia asked.
"Are you really Nia Wingfeather?"
"I am."
"And you brought a Fang to Ban Rona?"
Janner steeled himself for his mother's anger, but it didn't come.
"No. I brought my son," Nia said. "He's no Fang, however much he may look it."
The woman seemed satisfied with Nia's answer and took their orders without further interrogation.
Podo stood and raised his mug of rootberry ale. "Crew of the Enramere!" The Kimerans roared in answer and raised their own mugs. "Maker bless Gammon of Skree, who routed the Grey Fangs at the Battle of Kimera and saw to our escape! May he and his cold soldiers fight till the land is free again. Maker bless each of ye for sailing the Dark Sea with dragons beneath and Fangs behind!" The men cheered as the Hollowsfolk watched with amusement. "Maker bless the Green Hollows, where Gnag the Nameless fears to tread!"
Now the Hollowsfolk cheered. "And Maker bless Anniera." There was a respectful silence. Men and women stared at their mugs. "May that great kingdom rise from the ashes." Podo looked at Nia and Artham, the Bennet siblings, then at Janner and Leeli.
"And Maker be with Kalmar tonight," said Janner, quietly enough that only his family heard.
"So be it," said Artham.
The room erupted in cheers as the kitchen doors swung open and servers carried out trays and trays of steaming food. Janner tried to eat with a glad heart, but his gladness was tinged with worry for Kalmar. He prayed that Rudric was true to his word to make sure his brother was well fed and unharmed until they could secure his freedom.
When they had finished eating, the innkeeper, a skinny, bald fellow named Norn, showed them to their rooms. He had a spring in his step because Danniby had filled his inn and promised him a vat of elderberry brew at the next harvest. Each room had two beds, so Nia and Leeli took one, Elisheva and Zev took the next, Oskar and Podo another, and Janner ended up with Artham. The rooms were simple but comfortable, with soft beds, a wardrobe, and a writing desk.
Nia told her children and the Bennets that she would wake them for breakfast. For now it was time for rest.
Janner had stumbled downstairs to find everyone eating oats and milk in a heavy silence. Before they had finished eating, Danniby arrived to summon them to the Keep.
A mist lay on the harbor in the early light, obscuring everything but the tops of the cliff walls in the distance, where the tiny flicker of watch fires glowed. As the Wingfeathers and the Bennets walked the short distance to the Keep, the city woke.
Birds sang in the boughs of trees that lined the cobbled streets. Garden gates swung open as sleepy-eyed men and women of all ages stepped out to greet the day. Dogs bounded down the front steps of the houses for their morning walks, and wagons clattered by.
Clusters of children with leather satchels were waiting at street corners. Few of them looked happy, and some looked as if they might fall asleep standing up. Some sat cross-legged on the sidewalk, mindlessly poking sticks between cobblestones, while others found benches on which to sprawl. Some of the girls stood in groups of two or three, giggling or playing clapping games.
"Mama," Janner asked, "what are all the kids doing standing around? Don't they have chores to do?"
"School," Nia answered absently, as if Janner had interrupted a deep thought.
Elisheva and Zev's perked up curiously.
A long wagon topped with several benches and drawn by four donkeys rounded the nearest corner and halted. The driver said, "Mornin'," to the children at the corner, and with a chorus of grumbles and yawns they boarded.
"Somehow I don't think it's same as the US public schools." Elisheva remarked.
"They don't look too happy about it," Janner said, watching over his shoulder as the wagon halted a few blocks down the street to load another group.
"Why would they be?" Podo said. "Wastin' a whole morning learning when they could be out doin'. I'd be grumpy too."
"They are doing something, Papa," Nia said. "I loved school, and so did Mama. You would have loved it too if you hadn't grown up in Skree, running with those rotten Stranders."
"Well," was all Podo could say to that.
"Will we go to school?" Janner asked. He had never been to an official school. In Skree, schooling had been abandoned when the Fangs took over, so it was left to the parents. He had read plenty about schools and libraries and apprenticeships, but all he had in Glipwood was a mother determined to teach him T.H.A.G.S. (the Three Honored and Great Subjects all Annieran children studied: Word, Form, and Song). He loved reading and writing so much it was hard to imagine not enjoying a whole day of it with other students.
"All I know right now is that Kalmar is in a dungeon, and we have to get him out. We'll worry about school later," Nia said as they approached what appeared to be a main thoroughfare. Big trees grew out of a median that lined the center of a wide street running straight up the grassy hill to the Keep. The houses here were bigger and boasted fancy cornices and even fountains in their front gardens.
"Well, here's hoping." Zev said.
Danniby led them up the hill to the main gate, where guards stood on either side of a portcullis. It brought to mind the entrance to the Fork Factory, and a shiver ran down his back. For the first time that morning, he felt a hint of dread. What if that man-what was his name? Bunge. What if Bunge had hurt Kalmar-really hurt him? What if all the Hollowsfolk on the council were more like him than Rudric?
The guards at the gate stared at Artham as they passed. He still wore the canvas draped over his wings, but it was obvious he was hiding something.
Just through the gate was a grassy courtyard, and beyond it lay the Keep. It was a sturdy but beautiful structure, built of log and stone with living vines creeping up its walls and winding around its pillars. The sight was astonishing.
Some of the vines were heavy with colorful fruit, and people with long poles gathered it into baskets, pausing now and then to pop a grape or redberry into their mouths. There were four stories, each with windows flung wide open to balconies where people looked out over Ban Rona to the sea. Leafy branches peeked over the edge of the roof.
The two main doors of the Keep stood open, and Danniby led them through and into the great hall. It took a moment to adjust to the dim light filtering through windows in the ceiling, but he knew immediately that the hall was full of people. They sat around an enormous tree that rose out of a mound in the center of the room. Its trunk was bigger than the biggest glipwood oak, and its lower branches were as fat as trees themselves. The limbs rose like strong arms, up, up into the reaches of the ceiling and out to every wall, they grew into the walls and ceiling of the Keep itself-which meant the branches he saw sticking out of the roof were a part of the tree too. He couldn't tell where the tree ended and the Keep began.
In a nook shaped by the enormous roots was a wooden throne where Rudric ban Yorna sat in the glory of his strength. He wore a black tunic and cape. His beard with the seven jeweled braids cascaded over the expanse of his chest, where the red pendant glimmered. He should have been diminished by the size of the tree, but it served instead to magnify his station. Rudric wasn't a proper king, but the title of Keeper seemed in this moment the greater one.
At least by Elisheva's speculation the closest thing to tribal chief.
Around Rudric gathered hundreds of Hollowsfolk, all sitting on the grassy floor. Young and old, male and female, fair and rugged, they stared at Nia Wingfeather and her companions. Janner felt that any discomfort or fear his mother carried must have been transformed into some marrow- deep power in her, for under the heavy gaze of the council, she seemed equal in bearing and strength to the Keeper across the room. They were as formidable as the towering cliffs on either side of the harbor, with some invisible chain slung between them.
"Queen Nia," Rudric said. He stood, and his voice boomed through the hall like a rolling boulder. "It is time to discuss the Fang."
Elisheva and Zev became grim.
"Come. We have a place for you." Rudric gestured toward a waist-high twist of root to the left of his throne. Nia led Leeli, Janner, Oskar, Artham, the Bennets, and Podo through the multitude to the tree.
Elisheva was inevitably glancing around the entire place in wonder, Zev was mostly curious but wary.
They could feel every eye in the room watching, and Janner was self-conscious of the way he walked, the way he held his mouth, and how filthy his clothes were. He wanted to exude the same quiet strength as his mother, but he was pretty sure he exuded nothing but awkwardness.
They approached the root, and Rudric motioned for them to sit. Beside him were the chiefs: four men and three women seated in smaller chairs. Each of the chiefs had a dog, either curled at the foot of the chair or leaning against it. Rudric's dog sat at attention beside his throne and looked big enough to swallow the others. Each woman's hair and each man's beard was adorned with a single jeweled braid that matched one of Rudric's seven braids. They frowned as the Wingfeathers and the Bennets sat on the root bench.
"I've been the Keeper of the Hollows for five years," Rudric began, addressing Nia. "You fled Anniera nine years ago. It was years before that since you had set foot in our land."
"Yes, Keeper," Nia said. "It's been a long time."
"I've gathered the council today in order to hear your case but also to help you understand why things happened on your ship the way they did. I've no wish to offend the Queen of the Shining Isle."
He waited for Nia to answer, but she only lifted her chin and listened. "When Gnag the Nameless and his Fangs overran your kingdom, we heard rumors, but we didn't believe them for days. We smelled the smoke a full day before we saw it. I was in the company that sailed to Anniera to give aid where we could, but-" Rudric cleared his throat. "But the whole city was burning. Flames scorched the sky. We brought back as many survivors as we could, but they didn't number enough to fill a single ship. It was terrible. I saw Fangs dancing in the fire and trolls everywhere. I saw other creatures too." He lowered his voice. "Long-legged things, skittering things. Things that lumbered and wailed and leapt over burning houses."
Zev gulped at the description. Elisheva's eyes had widened and she looked at her little brother with concern.
Leeli leaned her head on Podo's arm and squeezed her eyes shut. Janner looked out over the council and saw men and women with ashen faces remembering the terrors of days past.
"We fled," Rudric continued. "Anniera was a ruin, and we feared the Green Hollows would be next. So we boarded ship and sailed ahead of the smoke with Fang ships in our wake. The watchers at the Watercraw weren't prepared for a fleet of Fang ships and couldn't get the gate raised in time. The Fangs followed us right into the harbor. Thousands of them. Men, women, and children armed themselves and fought from the piers. We put out fire after fire, launched stone after stone, and when the Fangs leapt overboard and slithered through the sea, when they crawled out of the water like a plague, we fought them with swords, hammers, bows, and spears. We fought with our hands.
"Many men died, Nia. More than you would believe. Your family in Ban Rugan: Malik and the rest of the Igiby clan, the Boormyn clan, Yarley Craigh and his five daughters, your aunts and uncles, your cousins, Nia. All dead."
Nia's eyes were closed. She sat straight and still, but Janner could tell Rudric's words stung her.
"It was a terrible time. For nine years Fangs have plagued our waters. Six times they've attacked in force. A whole fleet of ships tried to break through the Watercraw and failed. Again and again we drove them back. They dared not come through the Blackwood, though over the years even the cloven have grown bolder. Lands that were once safe for sheepherders and grazers are now in danger of twisted things that rove the forest and its edges."
Rudric paused again to see if Nia had anything to say. She didn't.
"All these years, our northern borders were untroubled. The Fangs were vulnerable to the cold. We saw the way they dragged and cowered when an icy wind blew, and how they never sent skirmishers from the north hills. We were safe for a long time. But last year, something changed. A new thing came to the Hollows."
Rudric motioned to someone on the far side of the hall and two massive doors swung open. Two men entered, rolling a cage on a wooden cart. In the cage was a ragged, broken thing.
Its snout was longer than the Grey Fangs they had seen at the Battle of Kimera. Those Grey Fangs had seemed intelligent, more so than the snakelike ones. But this creature snarled and rattled the bars of the cage with beastly strength. Even from the other side of the hall, the Bennets could see that its eyes were blank with madness, devoid of anything human; it swung its head about, throwing a hungry, unthinking gaze at everything it saw. Its snout was curled in a permanent snarl, revealing long, needle-like teeth, and a dry, black tongue lolled out of the side of its mouth like a dead fish. Its fur had been torn out in patches, revealing sickly pink skin.
When it saw the array of Hollowsfolk, its thrashing intensified. It arched its back and loosed a papery shriek that was the closest thing to a howl the wretch could manage. Its black eyes roved the room, and Janner was terrified that its eyes would linger on him, as if they were empty wells into which he might fall forever.
"Augh, nasty!" Elisheva winced.
Janner would have grabbed Leeli and run had Rudric not been so calm.
"It looks like it's sick," Zev blurted. "Did it get scabies or something?"
Elisheva lightly elbowed him. The last they needed was to give these already wary village folk fear of unprecedented disease or pestilence.
"This," the Keeper said, "is only a shadow of the thing we captured. Its name was Nuzzard and it spoke quite well when our scouts at the Cullagh Orchard caught it. It was part of a company of Grey Fangs sent to test our borders for weaknesses. The others died. You know what happens when they die?"
Nia nodded. "They turn to dust. We're no strangers to Fangs, Rudric."
"Good. Then do you know what happens to them over time?"
Nia hesitated.
"Hey, you remember the Grey Fangs in the Enramere's brig?" Zev recalled.
"Yeah." Elisheva nodded uncomfortably.
The wolfen creatures had grown more violent by the day, but what happened to them after they were set adrift no one knew. They had probably died, but as Podo said, that was in the hands of the Maker.
Nia looked at the sniveling monster in the cage and shuddered. "This, I suppose."
"You mean they get cabin fever in less than twenty four hours?" Zev questioned.
"The Grey Fangs are dangerous enough in their ordinary form—if it can be called that-but what they become is even worse." Rudric crossed the room and stood before the cage. The creature shook the bars and howled its papery howl. "They become the stuff of scarytales. I hate to imagine what would happen if this thing were loose in the Hollows." Rudric nodded at the guards, and they rolled the wagon away. "So you see, your highness,
we cannot let a Fang loose in the land."
Nia stood and clenched her fists at her sides.
"You may speak," Rudric said for a split second, it looked like he gulped.
Nia spoke through her teeth. "I come to you not only as the Queen of Anniera, but as a daughter of the Hollows. I grew up here in Ban Rona. My grandfather Kargan Igiby was himself the Keeper for two seasons. I see gathered here ambassadors from Ban Hynh, Ban Rugan, Ban Yorna, and all the villages between-men and women who knew me when I was young, who have known the Igiby family for an epoch. I love this land as you do and would not put it in danger."
Janner noticed Rudric steal a glance at the assembly, and like a flicker of light a smile flashed in the brush of his beard. Janner couldn't make sense of it at first, but when he saw the faces of the Hollowsfolk gathered in the hall, he understood. They were as attentive now as they had been angry the night before. Rudric had readied them to listen.
Nia took a deep breath, turned to the assembly, who sat under the tree like children at storytime, and spoke.
"The Fangs attacked Castle Rysen more swiftly than we could have imagined." Nia spoke quietly, but her voice carried through the leafy hall. "Esben, the children, and I were together in the dining hall one moment, and the next it seemed the whole world had grown scales and fangs. They poured into the castle. We ran. Esben never made it out of the castle. Mother was killed."
Podo sucked in a breath and stared at the floor. Several sniffles were heard in the room and wondered how many of the assembly had known Wendolyn Helmer.
"By the Maker's hand we crossed the Dark Sea of Darkness, where we've hidden these many years in a little town called Glipwood, where my father grew up. The Fangs had no idea who we were until this summer. One of them recognized the Annieran crest on one of my necklaces, and they would have shipped us to Gnag himself if we hadn't had help."
She looked at Artham, and all eyes in the room followed her gaze. He sat under the drape of canvas with his head bowed. Janner saw his cheek twitch, and one of the hidden wings stirred.
"Artham P. Wingfeather, Throne Warden of Anniera, found us. He'd kept watch over the jewels for years, so when the Fangs captured us, he came to our rescue." Nia smiled at him, but he looked away. "The Throne Warden was true to his vow to protect the High King. Not even the Dark Sea could keep him from us."
Artham's cheeks splotched with either embarrassment or nervousness. Then he made a tiny whimpering sound, quiet enough that Janner wasn't sure the assembly heard it. It was odd to see flickers of Peet the Sock Man after so many days of Artham behaving as he must have before the Great War. Before something had happened to him. Something that had left him with a shock of white hair and hideous claws that he hid under a pair of knitted socks.
In the Phoob Islands, something more had happened, and it was something Janner still didn't understand. Even as Kalmar had transformed into a Grey Fang, Artham had changed from a crazy man with claws to an elegant, winged warrior. His unwieldy talons had refined into rust-colored hands with slender, graceful claws. He had become not less but more, and the gibberish was replaced by a strong voice and eloquent speech (Artham was a poet, after all). But just as there had been glimpses of the real Artham hidden in Peet the Sock Man, now Janner caught a glimpse of Peet the Sock Man in the real Artham. It was troubling.
"We escaped," Nia said, releasing Artham from her gaze. "On the way to the Ice Prairies, where we thought we might find refuge, Janner and Kalmar with Elisheva were separated from us. Then they were separated from each other. Janner and Elisheva braved much evil to escape Dugtown, in so doing Elisheva's younger brother Zev was found, and eventually they made their way to Kimera, a secret city in the snow. But Kalmar-" Nia's voice cracked. "Kalmar lost his way."
The statement deepened the silence of the room. Even the great tree seemed to listen. "He was captured by Stranders-men and women with black hearts-sold to the Fangs, and in the dungeon... in the dungeon he-"
Janner knew the story, but he could hardly bear to hear it told. He tried to imagine what it would be like to tell a room full of strangers about his darkest moments. He was glad Kalmar wasn't there to hear it.
"He became a Fang," Nia said. Many in the crowd murmured to one another and shook their heads. "Gnag has learned to change people. He's learned to take the essence of a snake and meld it with a man or woman to create something horrible. That's why there are Fangs. Grey Fangs. Kalmar was captured by the Fang makers."
The assembly hissed with hatred. The man called Bunge stepped out of the crowd and shouted, "I knew it! It's a beast, and there's no undoing it! Kill the Fang like we have all the others! If it's not human, it's not welcome!"
Artham flung off his canvas and unfurled his wings. "Hollowsfolk," he cried, "behold the Maker's good pleasure!"
The assembly gasped.
"I was broken, I tell you, hardly a man at all! Unmade and foundering was I! But in the pit of the Phoobs I too sang the song of the stones! I became no Fang, but sprouted these." He flexed his wings and swooped them forward, blowing back the hair of those nearest him. "I cannot tell you why. All I know is that in my heart was a burning love for young Kalmar. Gnag bends things for breaking, and the Maker makes a flourish! Evil digs a pit, and the Maker makes a well! That is his way."
"Warden Wingfeather, we hear your words," Rudric said, stroking his beard. "We see your wings, and indeed we are as suspicious of you as of the young Fang in the dungeon. If I believed it were possible to bind you, I would."
The Hollowsfolk murmured their agreement. "You are neither animal nor man, unnaturally transformed. How does this come to be if not by some black power?"
Janner saw on his mother's face that even she wanted to know the answer to this question. Podo's and Oskar's bushy gray eyebrows were raised thoughtfully as they watched Artham for his reaction. The birdman's wings ruffled and folded.
In spite of the obvious tension, Elisheva and Zev alike were intrigued, they wanted to know.
Artham pursed his lips and nodded his head.
"The mystery runs deeper than my understanding, but I'll tell you what I believe." Artham locked his fingers behind his back, looked over the faces of the assembly, and cleared his throat. "When the Fangs took Castle Rysen, my brother-Esben-" Artham swallowed. He took a deep breath and began again. "When the Fangs took the castle, my brother Esben-" Janner saw beads of sweat form on his uncle's brow. "-Esben naid he seeded something-said he needed something. Said he needed something- thing-thing from inside. Said he would bum cack. Cack!"
Artham closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. He twitched his head. Whispers fluttered like moths among the Hollowsfolk.
"Uh-oh…" Elisheva mumbled.
Arthram was losing himself and acting more like Peet the Sock Man rose.
Artham opened his eyes long enough to look on Janner with a childlike panic that stabbed the boy's heart.
"I'm sorry," Artham whispered. Janner couldn't tell if he was speaking to him or to everyone. "I'm so, so, so sorry," he repeated, and the old Peet's shrill voice played at the edges of the words.
He closed his eyes again, crouched, and sprang into the air. He flapped his great wings and circled the tree a few times before lighting on a high branch. Janner saw in his uncle's wheeling eyes not just the madness of Peet the Sock Man but the frustration and grief of Artham P. Wingfeather, the Throne Warden who couldn't stop what was happening. As beautiful and strong as Artham had become, something still haunted him, something that lurked like a sea dragon in his deep waters and had lain silent for weeks, choosing this of all moments to rise to the surface.
Rudric seized his war hammer from beside the throne. The Hollowsfolk were a tumult of angry shouts, cries of alarm, and shaking fists. Nia and Podo shouted for them to lower their weapons.
Oskar waved at the people and said, "In the words of Goverly Swimp, There's no need to panic!'"
"We have to stop them," Leeli said. "They'll kill him." She pointed across the room at a group of men stringing bows and fishing arrows from a barrel.
"No, don't shoot him!" Zev yelled, getting up and waving her hands. "He's our friend!"
Elisheva hurried over, she cried out, "I know he looks different, but he's actually a kind and brave man."
Before he realized what he was doing, Janner ducked behind Rudric, climbed up the back of his throne, and jumped for the lowest branch of the tree. As soon as he caught the branch, all the hours he'd spent climbing glipwood oaks, swinging from mossy limb to mossy limb, scooting after Kalmar either to catch him or to keep him from hurting himself, suddenly felt like practice for this single moment. He climbed the tree as lithe as a thwap, swinging under limbs, scooting along others, closer every moment to the upper corner of the chamber where Peet trembled and twitched like a trapped bird, his talons flexing, his wings flapping madly.
Artham was terrified, and he was terrifying.
Janner edged along a branch of the tree as thick as his waist, calling Artham's name again and again, but if Artham heard, he showed no sign. The men with bows had nocked arrows and trained them on Artham, waiting for either a signal from Rudric or a movement from the birdman.
Elisheva was fighting tooth and nail through the crowd to reach Arthram somehow.
Janner was sure Artham could defeat every warrior in the room if he wanted, but these were old allies, kinsmen, people acting not out of evil but out of fear; there must have been enough of Artham's sanity left to restrain his fury-but why didn't he flee? The main doors to the hall were flung wide open, and it would be an easy thing for him to fly through and away to safety.
Janner had started climbing the tree with an idea in his head, but now that the floor was so far below he wondered what he'd been thinking. "Uncle Artham!" he cried again, but Artham only shook his head and goggled his eyes everywhere except at Janner, whimpering to himself in nonsensical words.
If Janner was going to act, he had to do it now. The archers were hungry for a reason to shoot, Rudric was shouting, Oskar was waving his hands, and Nia's head was buried in Podo's shoulder. Only Leeli saw Janner in the tree.
Their eyes met, she smiled at him, and Janner said, "Uncle Artham, HELP!"
Then he jumped.
To be continued…
Author's note: Will be correcting upcoming chapters and taking some R and R days to focus on my other fics I need to update and such. So updates for this will be slow.