Kendra Kandlestar and the Shard From Greeve (19 page)

AT FIRST, Kendra was too startled to reply. Lurk shifted, and now she realized that each of his limbs was shackled to the wall. His cloak was tattered and torn, and Kendra knew at once he had endured some terrible trial. His face was still hidden within the folds of his hood, but Kendra knew he was glaring at her.

“What are you talking about?” Kendra asked. “Who is ‘she’?”

But instead of answering, Lurk asked his own question. “Do you have it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do not toy with me, girl. You know what.”

Kendra felt the shard thrum beneath her robe, but she held her tongue.

“I thought that fool of a Dwarf had thrown it overboard—like the mouse said,” Lurk continued, as if he did not require her reply. “Oh yes, I was there, the whole time, watching the scenes upon that wretched ship unfold from the safety of my invisible cloak. After you were captured by the Dwarf, I waited ever so patiently to reach the shore so that I might sneak off the ship in safety. And all the while, I delighted in the notion that the shard was lost to the sea, where no one would ever find it again. Then the scoptacus came and you unsheathed the power of that stone. Imagine my surprise! If I had known you still had it all along . . . well, let’s just say you should be thankful that I did not.”

“Maybe you’re not as powerful as you think,” Kendra said, staring through the dungeon bars at the cloaked Een. “After all, the Krakes captured you.”

“Only because I was so gravely injured in the battle with the scoptacus,” Lurk retorted.

Kendra remembered the last time she had seen the vile Een; he had been trapped in the deadly coils of the scoptacus, just moments before she had used the shard’s dark magic to destroy the sea beast. “I saved you,” Kendra announced.

“Is that what you call it, girl?” Lurk asked. “I think I would have taken my chances with that creature of the deep.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kendra asked, taken aback.

Lurk ignored her question. “I will not have that cauldron reassembled,” he snarled.

“If . . . if that’s the case, then we’re on the same side,” Kendra told him, fiddling nervously with her braids.

“No,” Lurk said, suffering a sudden fit of coughing. It took him several moments to recover, but when he did, he continued, “I would rather anyone have the shard—even Queen Krake. Anyone but you or the Unger.”

“What do you know about the Unger?” Kendra demanded.

“I know you will join him,” Agent Lurk rasped. “I know you will try to rebuild Greeve’s cauldron.”

“Th-that’s a lie,” Kendra sputtered. “I would never do that.”

“Fool!” Lurk gasped. “I know what you will do better than you do yourself! But I promise you, girl, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth to stop you.”

“You’re hardly in the position to be making threats,” Kendra told him, speaking with a confidence that was bolstered by the shard.

Then, before her very eyes, she watched the mysterious Een fade into invisibility. Kendra stared at the empty chains—then a moment later Lurk reappeared. “You know the power of this cloak,” he chortled. “These chains are but a momentary inconvenience. As soon as I’m free of them, I shall escape from this dungeon like a wisp of smoke in the wind.”

“Or you just may end up in the pit.”

“Perhaps so,” Lurk sneered. “But the cloak will give me advantage.”

“Not over me,” Kendra retorted. “I’m not afraid of you.” And with these words (and with the shard thrashing), she turned and marched down to the next level of the dungeons. Behind her, she could hear Agent Lurk laughing loudly and maniacally. She had half a mind to unleash the fury of the shard upon him—but she knew she must not be distracted from her mission.

She was now in another long circular passageway. Here she saw even more creatures caged within the dungeon’s iron teeth, including the hapless lot of pirates from the
Golden Loot
. Here was Squaggle and even old Pugglemud. The Dwarf had been stripped of his eye patch and captain’s hat, and now he looked more filthy and despicable then ever. As Kendra slipped past, the scurrilous fellow dragged his heavy chains to the front of his cell and cried out for her.

“Lemme out! Lemme out!” he begged. “That Queeny done betrayed me, don’t ya know! Lemme free and ya can have all me riches!”

But Kendra ignored him. She didn’t have time to listen to Pugglemud’s wails or false promises.

Deeper into the dungeons she delved, her path marked by ancient bones, rusted chains, and spider webs draping to the ground in thick white curtains. Many a soul had met a dreary end here, Kendra knew. And still there was no sign of Kiro.

Where could he be?
she wondered.

Then she found him. Just like that, she turned the bend and found an archway opening into a cavernous antechamber. She crept inside and there, sitting in a dingy, isolated cell that was far too small for him, was her brother. He looked like a giant chiseled boulder, hewn and hard, gray as rock. He was an Unger, after all. But she did not care; call him Kiro or call him Trooogul, he was still her brother—though the moment he looked at her, she could hardly recognize him for the Unger he had once been. As she cautiously approached his cage, she realized that his right eye was swollen shut, while one of his great tusks had been broken off and was now just a jagged stump. His entire body was covered with scars and bruises, and Kendra could see where a trickle of blood had hardened over the knots and bumps of his cavernous face. He was wearing a battered helmet on his head, a plate of metal on one shoulder, and a spiked gauntlet on the opposite forearm: the armor of a gladiator. Trooogul had been made to fight in the Rumble Pit, just as Effryn had said he would, and it showed in every fiber of his being. He looked starved and beaten, and it made Kendra’s heart ache so badly that tears began spilling down her cheeks.

But Trooogul did not seem to share her affection. “Whatzum do herezum!” he bellowed, clutching the bars of his cage with his two massive fists. Even as he spoke his nostrils flared in fury. His one eye was angry and sharp, piercing Kendra like a dagger.

“I’ve come to get you!” Kendra cried, reaching through the bars to touch his coarse skin. “Like I always do.”

“Trooogul nozum matter!” he growled, yanking his muscular arm away from her touch.

“But Kiro—,”

“No callzum Trooogul thatzum!” he barked.

Kendra stepped back, aghast. “But don’t you remember? Don’t you know—,”

“Shutzum!” He leaned forward, his one open eye burning with intensity. “Little Star hazum shard?” he asked in a whisper—or what was the closest thing to a whisper for an Unger.

“Y-yes,” Kendra stammered. Did he know who she was, after all? Did Trooogul remember he was actually Kiro? Didn’t he even want to know about
her?
“What’s happened to you?” she asked him. “Effryn says you’re obsessed with the shard, that you wish to repair the cauldron—,”

“Therezum no timezum,” Trooogul interrupted. “Shard mustzum no fallzum into Krakee’s claws.”

“Why? So your Ungers can win the war?” Kendra asked angrily.

“Nozum!” Trooogul scowled. “Youzum no understandum. Now quickzum! Gozum! Takezum shard.”

“To where?”

“No safezum here. Earzum everywherezum. Youzum find City on Stormzum. Then knowzum.”

“City on the Storm?” Kendra asked. “Where is that? And why would I go there?”

“Eeneez in terrible dangerzum!” the great Unger insisted. “Must gozum!”

“I will—with you,” Kendra said determinedly.

She reached for the shard, but before her hand could grasp the cord, there was a series of loud
whooshes
; Kendra felt a rush of air, and the next thing she knew, three arrows had pinned her by her cloak and sleeves to a block of wood that had been set against the nearest wall.

“NOZUM!” Trooogul thundered. He stretched a long crooked arm out between the bars of his cage, clawing at air; Kendra was out of his reach. Then, because he could do nothing else, he clenched the bars of his cage and shook them until they rattled.

“Wh-what’s happening?” Kendra murmured in panic. She strained to reach the shard, but her sleeves were stapled fast by the arrows. She struggled and squirmed like a fish on a hook, but it was no use. She was trapped.

OUT OF THE DARKNESS came a soft cackle, so malicious, so bone-chilling that at once it caused both Kendra and Trooogul to freeze. Out of habit, Kendra tried to tug her braids—but she could not reach them of course. All she could do was stand there, pinned to the wall, and listen. The laugh came again.

“Erk erk erk!”

Kendra knew that sound. With a grimace, she looked upwards to see the monstrous Queen Krake lumber out of the dark recesses of the cavern. She was so large that she filled the chamber with her great flabs of flesh. Scuttling up behind her was Sergeant Yeeek and three Krake archers.

“Ooh-cha!” Queen Krake chortled as she glowered down at Kendra. “Little Een-cha fallzee for Queeny’s trick-cha! Erk erk erk!”

“What?” Kendra demanded.

The great queen lowered her head, jabbing her beak so close to Kendra’s face that she could smell her rank breath and feel the splatter of her drool. “You-cha!” she squawked. “Queeny know-cha little Een-cha try savezee Unger! Erk erk erk! Little Een-cha so predicty!”

Kendra could feel the shard thrash against her heart, hot and furious. “Just let me loose!” Kendra growled. “Then you’ll see how predictable I am!”

“Ooh-cha!” Queen Krake exclaimed. “Afraidy not-cha!” Then with one of her massive claws, the Queen reached out and, with surprising nimbleness, removed the shard from around Kendra’s neck. To the Een girl, having the shard leave her touch felt as if someone was ripping off one of her braids.

“Give it back! I need it!” Kendra screamed, straining in futility against the arrows that still held her pinned fast.

“No-cha!” the queen hissed as she gazed upon the black stone in her crooked claw. “Queeny must have-cha shard! Erk erk erk! Queeny make-cha Krakes supremeeoso of all-cha monster clans. Ungers, Goojuns—all-cha monsters—will bowzee to Krakeez!”

“You’re mad!” Kendra blurted. “You can’t do anything with one piece! You won’t get them all!”

But Queen Krake only laughed. “Little Een-cha will never knowzee!” she crowed. “Becauzee little Een-cha will go-cha Rumba Pit! Erk erk erk!”

“NOZUM!” Trooogul bellowed. He shook the bars of his cage again—but it was all in vain.

“But Queeny!” said Sergeant Yeeek. “Dungeons full-cha with all-cha Gnomzee now-cha!”

“Just locky up with-cha cripple!” Queen Krake retorted, her full attention now locked upon the shard. “Erk erk erk!”

For a moment Kendra wondered who the queen meant by the “cripple,” but it was just a fleeting thought. She felt so light-headed, so sick she just wanted to retch. How could she go on? What could she do without the shard? She felt empty and lost, with only a single thought echoing through her mind:
the shard, the shard, the shard.

Sergeant Yeeek and the other soldiers showed no sympathy for Kendra’s anguish. They unfastened the arrows and began dragging her away across the frigid dungeon floor. She couldn’t help looking back at Trooogul. He stared at her from his cell, his face contorted with absolute fury. But he wasn’t angry at the Krakes, Kendra knew. He was angry at her.

They brought her to a cold and dreary cell, deep within the catacombs of the dungeon. They chained her to a heavy stone and threw her roughly inside the cage, where she landed with a thud on the hard floor. Then she heard the prison door clang shut, and she was left to stare into nothingness, for it was pitch black inside. Even so, she knew she was not alone. Something else was there; she could hear the rustle of its body, the clink of its chains, the sound of it breathing. It was a huge thing, Kendra could tell, and with a rush of panic, she scooted backwards, painfully dragging the stone that was shackled to her ankle. At last, her back found the corner of the cell and she wriggled into it, curling herself into a small ball. Then the thing spoke.

“Ah, Arinotta, is it really so? Are we two lost souls, forever doomed to be prison mates?”

Kendra felt her braids prickle. “Prince?” she murmured, leaning forward in the darkness. “Is that you? How can you see me?”

“I cannot,” came the peryton’s graceful reply. “But I can smell you. I knew your scent at once.”

“But . . . but I freed you,” Kendra said. “I-I-I saw you soar into the sky.”

“Alas, freedom was not to be mine on that day,” Prince said, his sadness betrayed by his voice.

Kendra was crying again. Even though she could not see the noble peryton, she could imagine him: his glorious wings, his mighty hooves, his majestic antlers. “You should be free,” she murmured.

“As should we all in this desolate dungeon,” Prince declared. Then, after a moment, he said, “There is something different about you, Arinotta. I can hear it in your voice.”

“I . . . I . . .” But Kendra couldn’t put her swirling feelings into words.

“You have lost your stone,” Prince declared suddenly.

“It was a trap,” Kendra uttered simply, burying her head into her knees.

“Ah, then the rumors were true.”

“What do you mean?” Kendra asked.

“Stories of the queen’s poisonous plot have gusted like a mountain wind through these deep dungeons,” Prince told her. “I have heard the plan in all its wicked detail. It was a carefully assembled scheme, one that began months ago when the queen’s soldiers chanced to capture a Faun and an Unger.”

“Effryn and Trooogul,” Kendra murmured.

“Indeed,” Prince said. “They were brought to this very dungeon, and here the queen herself overheard their whispers. She discovered that you possessed that fabled stone, the shard from Greeve. And she heard, too, how you longed to find the Unger, your brother. And so it was the queen herself who allowed the Faun to escape, for she knew he would contact you with news of your imprisoned brother. The Faun was the unknowing messenger, the lure if you will; the Unger, the bait. And so she waited, that wicked lizard queen, waiting for you to seek your brother and bring that dark stone. Your resourcefulness and bravery are legendary among the monsters, Arinotta. She knew you would find a way to reach the castle. She knew you would come. And then the
Golden Loot
crashed upon her rocky shores. She captured the pirates, she captured me—and one other. The dark Een.”

“Agent Lurk,” Kendra murmured.

“The same,” Prince said. “He was unconscious when they found him—but they carted him to the dungeons. Once revived, he told her that you had been aboard the ship—that you had the shard at your command. And the queen knew the moment had arrived to enact the last part of her dreadful ruse. She dispatched her soldiers to await you in the dark shadows near the Unger’s cage, for she desired the power of the shard for herself.”

Kendra’s mind was swirling. It had been a perfect snare, so elaborately and perfectly constructed by the giant Krake queen. And Kendra had walked right into it.
How could I have been so stupid?
Kendra asked herself. And now she thought of Winter Woodsong’s warning from all those weeks ago. The old woman had suspected a trap all along, the moment she had heard of Effryn’s message—and Kendra had just ignored her.

“The shard represents magic of the oldest kind,” Prince remarked. “Difficult it is, to command such power.”

“I could use it,” Kendra sobbed.

“Or did it use you?” Prince wondered. “It is a dark thing, Arinotta. You are better without it.”

“Are you mad?” she screamed. “If I had it now we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. I would have freed us both.”

“I would not have let you,” he said sternly.

“How could you say that?” she asked.

“There is a tiny sliver of a window in the wall opposite our cell,” Prince said, as if this somehow served to answer her question. “While the dungeons may be deep beneath the castle, they are high upon the rocky crags that overlook the Seas of Ire.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kendra asked.

“Because in a few hours the sun will peer through that window and cast some light upon our dismal den.”

“Then I suppose we are lucky—we won’t be trapped in complete darkness.”

“Some would say that,” Prince said sadly. “I would not.”

These were cryptic words, ones Kendra did not understand, but her mind now felt too heavy and weary to decipher his meaning. And then because it was so cold and drafty, and because he would have it so, the great peryton coaxed Kendra to his side and let her nestle against his fur. She was so full of despair and exhaustion that she took little convincing, and as soon as her long braids touched his coarse coat, her eyes flickered shut and she faded into troubled sleep.