Kendra Kandlestar and the Shard From Greeve (21 page)

IF YOU HAVE EVER had something heavy weighing on your conscience, then you know that your mind has little room for any other occupation. You might try to distract yourself with some activity or chore, only to find a moment later that the burden of guilt has crept back to the front of your mind. This was Kendra’s very dilemma; she wished to use the wand of Eenwood, to draw forth its magic, and yet she could not settle her mind. All she could think of was how she had destroyed the peryton, the most beautiful creature she had ever known.

She spent hour after hour in vain, clenching the wand, hoping to feel some spark of enchantment, some ray of hope. But she felt no response from the Eenwood, not even the slightest tremble. It was as if a switch had been turned off—a switch she just could not locate.

Perhaps I abandoned it for too long,
she thought to herself.

When Oki and Jinx returned to the cell, it was without keys. They vowed to not give up and spent the next several days coming and going as they searched for a way to free the prisoners. Sometimes they brought a snatch of decent food, if they could manage to find any. They also brought news.

“They say the queen is planning to have a rumble before the next full moon,” Jinx reported. “That’s what I heard the unicorn whisper from her cell at the end of the passage.”

“And she said the queen is boasting that it will be the grandest rumble of all time,” Oki added with a shudder. “There will be creatures fighting from every corner of the earth, from the most distant lands.”

“That includes you and I, Arinotta,” Prince said, looking down at Kendra. “Never before has Een or peryton battled in the Rumble Pit.”

“Kiro will be there,” Kendra said. “Perhaps we can all work together.”

“Perhaps,” Prince mused. “Your brother’s reputation as a fighter is well known.”

“It may not come to that,” Jinx remarked. “Kendra, have you had any luck with your wand?”

She shook her head. No matter how many times she was asked, her answer was always the same: “I cannot do it.”

Then, one day, Oki reached into his sack and produced a book of Een legends. It was one of the very books Kendra had brought on the journey, all the way from the land of Een.

“Where did you find that?” she asked the little mouse.

“Washed up on the shore, with the other wreckage from the
Golden Loot,
” Oki explained. “I grabbed it because—well, it’s from home, isn’t it? It’s important.”

“Perhaps,” Kendra murmured. “Though I don’t know how a bunch of old legends will help us now.”

“Go ahead, show her,” Oki said, turning to Jinx.

The grasshopper suddenly looked extremely pale and nervous, but she took the book, flipped it open, and began to read the following passage from “The Legend of Leemus Longbraids”:

And so it was, long ago, after the Wizard Greeve did enact his curse, that the Elder Leemus Longbraids closed the land of Een from the outside world. Enacting his arts of wizardry, he constructed a magic curtain that none could see, a barrier that no force might break or breach.

And in that cloistered place the Eens did settle in safety and peace. But they did not live alone, for there many creatures of the wild also dwelled: mice, rabbits, and other denizens of the woods.

And in those days many of the Eens came before Master Longbraids and demanded, “Why should we live with these wild things? Will they not steal our food, dig beneath our homes, and attack our children?”

But Leemus said, “Nay! Now they are one with us. All who live behind the curtain will know the magic of Een. And you may say they are wild, but they will soon be wild no longer. They will not steal your food, dig beneath your homes, or attack your children; for this I tell you: now they are the same as you.”

And so it was that the animals of Een came to be. They learned to speak and plied themselves in the trades of the land, until they lived side by side with the tiny people of Een. They became one, and Leemus Longbraids loved them all with equal measure.

Of course, how the legend is written here is not how Jinx read it. Her voice was unsteady and stilted, and she had to pause and stammer as she tried to sound out long or difficult words. In truth, it took her several minutes to struggle through these paragraphs, but when she was done she looked proudly up at Kendra.

“You’ve kept up with your practice?” Kendra asked.

“I got tired of Oki bugging me about it,” Jinx told her.

“Though, in truth, it’s usually Jinx who is the
bug
around here,” Oki added, causing Jinx to scowl at his pun.

“I don’t understand,” Kendra said. “Why are you worrying about reading at a time like this?”

“Because,” Oki said, answering for the grasshopper. “It’s the fact that Jinx could do it! And if Jinx could so something so difficult, then surely you can use your wand, Kendra.”

“That’s hardly the same thing!” Kendra exclaimed incredulously. “Reading is easy.”

“Not for me!” Jinx cried. “For me, it is like leaping across a great chasm where you can’t even see the other side. But I’m trying, Kendra. I’m doing it.”

“So?” Kendra said dejectedly.

“Now
you
do it,” Jinx said.

“I know how to read,” Kendra countered.

“You know what I mean!” Jinx retorted, but when Kendra only shrugged, the grasshopper turned and stormed off.

“You don’t know how hard she worked at that,” Oki told Kendra. “She did it for you, Kendra! She wanted to show you how she could do something so difficult. You know Jinx! It’s the first time she’s accomplished anything without a weapon in her hands!” He shook his head sadly and scampered off to find the grasshopper.

Kendra watched the little mouse go, then looked up forlornly at Prince.

“I can’t do anything right,” she declared. “I know they are trying—but I wish they would just leave me alone. I can’t use this wand. I can’t find its magic.”

“So you tell us, each and every day,” Prince said.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I believe you have a great ache in your heart,” the peryton replied. “And I know that you would hide from it, whatever it might be. Yet know this, Arinotta: Life is like the wind on the Mountains Zephyr. You can try to shelter behind the largest rock, or scramble into the deepest cave—and yet you can never hide from the wind. It will squeeze its way through the tiniest crack. It will always find you.”

When he was done with his speech, he looked at her meaningfully, but Kendra didn’t know what to say. So, instead, she tugged on her braids and turned to stare towards the distant window, where the bleak light of day was just beginning to wane.

IT HAPPENED SUDDENLY, in the early morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise. In this awkward and uneasy light, hundreds of Krakes stormed into the dungeons and began rousing the prisoners. Kendra gave her braids a fretful pull and felt her heart thump in her chest. Quickly, she cast her eyes about the cell for some sign of Oki and Jinx—but they were nowhere to be found. She hoped they were safe. As for her and Prince, they were freed from their shackles and prodded towards the back of the cell. A lever was pulled, and at once a hidden doorway groaned open to reveal a long tunnel slanting steeply downwards.

“Incha gozee!” one of the Krakes snapped, brandishing his sharp axe.

Kendra and the peryton had no choice but to enter the tunnel—and at once they began sliding downwards. The journey was over in an instant; with a loud bang, they crashed roughly against a gate of iron bars. The tunnel was at such a slant that the gate was the only thing that prevented them from falling forward into the enormous crater that they could now see below them.

“Welcome to the Rumble Pit,” Prince declared bleakly. He tried to poke his large head through the gate, but he couldn’t fit. “You try, Arinotta,” he said. “Perhaps you can get a better glimpse of this grim arena.”

Kendra nodded and wriggled her head through the bars. With sickening awe, she gazed upon the pit. It was shaped like a deep bowl, with slopes of sheer stone. Set within these precipitous walls were other holding pens, just like the one they were in. Here and there an angry snout or yellow eye peered out; these were the other gladiators, and Kendra recognized many of them from the dungeon. They came in many shapes and sizes, from every corner of the earth—and yet Kendra knew that they would all soon share the same dismal fate. All it would take was the flick of a switch, and the gates would open, leaving them to tumble helplessly into the hungry crater.

“What an awful place,” Kendra reported to Prince. “The way the pit is shaped, we’ll all be forced to the bottom in one big, crowded mess.”

“Fur and feathers!” the peryton remarked. “Like a nest of skarm, we will have no choice but to confront and fight each other. The queen was clever—and gruesome—in her design of this terrible pit.”

Kendra looked back down towards the bottom of the hole and now noticed that it was littered with shattered bones, broken weapons, and rusting armor—grisly remnants of rumbles past. She cast her eyes away.
There has to be a way out of this wretched pit,
she thought with a desperate tug of her braids.

Yet, with every passing moment, Kendra felt her stomach sinking. Escape was impossible. The walls were so smooth and steep that they would be impossible to climb, and anyway, the pit was capped by a dome of steel latticework, enclosing it like a birdcage. Beyond this dome the arena widened into a gallery of seats where thousands upon thousands of Krakes would watch the rumble in ghastly delight. Many of the beasts had already taken their places in the vast auditorium; Kendra could see them straining to see over the edge of the pit, long strands of drool dripping from their beaks.

Kendra shuddered and pulled her head back alongside the peryton. They could do nothing but wait.

After a time, there came a chanting from the beastly crowd, and soon the arena rang with the echo of these foreboding words: “Rumba! Rumba! Rumba!” The whole stadium shook with the frenzied noise.

Kendra stuck her head back out through the bars and saw Queen Krake arrive. She lumbered onto a large balcony that jutted over the domed pit. This was a sort of royal pavilion, complete with an enormous throne that would allow the monstrous creature to gaze upon the spectacle from a special vantage point. The queen was wearing a long purple cape, and her neck and arms were adorned with golden and bejeweled bracelets. But the item that Kendra noticed immediately was the most plain: the shard from Greeve, which the hideous queen now wore upon her neck for all to see.

Kendra felt a pang of desire in her heart.
If only I had the shard, I could get us out of here,
the Een girl thought. But she just as quickly shook her head. How could she harbor such a notion?
If it wasn’t for the shard, Prince would still be able to fly,
she told herself.

As Queen Krake settled in her throne, Kendra wondered at the shard. It seemed silent and slumbering, even though it rested right against the giant queen’s chest. “The shard doesn’t seem to affect her,” Kendra told the peryton.

“There is no magic calling in her blood,” Prince surmised. “It has no power over her.”

“Lucky,” Kendra murmured.

“Nay, Arinotta,” the peryton admonished. “To have such magic calling is a gift. But even the greatest gift, abused, may cause us torment.”

These words confused Kendra, but she had no time to ponder them, for at that moment the queen began to speak from her throne.

“Ooh-cha!” the lizardlike creature cackled. “Behold-cha Shardzee from Greeve! Erk erk erk! All-cha beasties now must-cha kneelzee before Krakeez! Soon-cha Krakeez find-cha other fragamenteez of cauldron-cha! Krakeez restorezee curse of Greeve! Krakeez will-cha ruley all-cha beasties! Erk erk erk!”

The Krakes cheered.

“Now-cha, Krakeez, celebratee with-cha Rumba!” Queen Krake proclaimed. “It-cha greatest rumba Krakeez ever see-cha! Erk erk erk!”

Again, the Krakes cheered, this time in a deafening roar. Kendra plugged her ears; for a moment she thought the whole arena might collapse. Then the cruel crowd quieted, and Kendra heard the grating of metal on stone; their iron gate was opening! Desperately, Kendra reached out to grab hold of the peryton—but she clutched only air, and the next thing she knew, she was rolling down the slope into the waiting throat of the Rumble Pit.

The terror Kendra felt was as sheer as the wall she was tumbling down. Colors and shapes whipped past her in a blur—her eyes couldn’t make sense of anything, but her tiny ears heard everything perfectly; moans, shrieks, and hollers filled the arena as she and the other prisoners spilled down the slopes. They crashed to the bottom of the bowl, like so many fierce ingredients in a simmering stew of limbs, necks, and tails.

Kendra was separated from the peryton instantly. She bounced off the belly of some poor creature who had hit the bottom before her, then rolled head over heels until she struck what she thought was a tall and mighty tree trunk.

Wait a minute,
Kendra thought as she hastily pulled herself to her feet.
What’s a tree doing in the Rumble Pit?

With a nervous tug of her braids, she looked up at the trunk and found it was made of flesh and hair. It was a giant leg—or, more accurately said, the leg of a giant. Kendra gulped; the giant was so tall that she could barely see his square, chiseled head. But he could see her clearly; Kendra thought,
I’m no bigger than a fly to him!
And that was how he must have thought of her too, for at that instant, he clenched his clumsy hand and struck down at Kendra. She jumped, rolling out of the way just as his great fist hammered the ground in a spray of gravel and rock.

Quickly, Kendra was on her feet again, rushing through the tangle of creatures. The crater erupted into a wild and frenzied brawl, and whatever squeals of horror Kendra had heard while sliding into the pit had now changed into a cacophony of growls, snarls, and roars. It was just as the peryton had predicted; the shape of the Rumble Pit forced the creatures to fight. It was like throwing a lit match into a bed of dry straw—and Kendra was right in the middle of it.

For the tiny Een girl, everything was magnified; it made the ruckus in the Rusty Bucket seem like nothing more than a pillow fight. Everywhere Kendra looked there were claws slashing, hooves stomping, beaks snapping, tails clobbering. She dodged and ducked, each time avoiding one creature’s attack only to find herself faced with another.

The arena was brimming with countless creatures, seemingly of every race and species. Kendra knew many of the combatants all too well, for here and there she caught glimpses of Pugglemud, Squaggle, and the other pirates. She even spotted Agent Lurk. He appeared out of thin air on the other side of the arena; she saw the giant swing at him, but, just as quickly, the mysterious Een vanished. It seemed that his cloak was working perfectly, but Kendra wondered if it would be enough to save him.

As for the rest of the creatures, Kendra could not identify half of them—but long afterwards she would hear their names recounted as lore, both the victorious and the fallen, all those who had rumbled in the pit on that fateful day. Kendra would hear of Uriel, the shy and timid unicorn from the forests of Grink. She would hear of Darius, the brave and noble Centaur from the plains of Eradeen. She would hear of Sarang, the clever and mischievous hippogriff from the lost city of Veradu. And she would hear too of Krackle the dragon, Grolf the giant, Akillé the gryphon, Birch the Minotaur, and many, many more. Their tales would be recited in palace halls at the feet of mighty kings and queens. They would be sung beneath golden suns during autumn harvests. They would be whispered over mugs of grog in dark and dingy taverns, while outside, winter snows piled in silent audience.

But that was the future and this was now. Whatever the stories, whatever the legends, they would never succeed in capturing the sense of panic and hysteria that flooded through the Rumble Pit. For Kendra, scurrying through the menagerie of gladiators, the fear was overwhelming.

Suddenly, she was struck in the back by some hoof or claw and she flew forward into the gravel face-first. The force of the blow winded her, and for a moment she lay there, gulping for air. When she finally rolled over to her back, she found herself confronted by the shaggy mess of Pugglemud’s beard.

“Gimme your wand, girl!” he demanded. “Me needs to get meself outta this mess.”

“It won’t help you!” Kendra retorted, trying to drag herself back on her elbows.

“We sees about that!” Pugglemud hissed, his crooked teeth showing above his snarled beard.

Kendra kicked at him, but the Dwarf was too strong for her. Grabbing her by an ankle, he pulled her forward and, with a squeal of malefic glee, reached for her wand. Then Kendra saw a massive club swing towards Pugglemud from behind his back. She closed her eyes, expecting both of them to be crushed, but the club narrowly missed them. Still, it shook the ground so hard that Pugglemud lost his balance and rolled away, right into a pair of fighting gargoyles. Quickly, Kendra scrambled to her feet, making sure her wand was secured within her belt. The creature that had swung the club was still before her; it roared and snorted, causing Kendra to momentarily freeze. The thing was enormous, with a broad, hairy torso and the brown head of a bull: a minotaur. Its nostrils flared and twitched with anger. The great beast raised his weapon for a second attack, but Kendra now snapped to attention and darted through his legs—only to find herself nearly crushed by the thrashing tail of some long, serpentine creature. As she dived out of the way, she cast a frantic look back at the snake. It was a vicious looking monster, scales as black as pearl and eyes as hot as embers—but what really gave Kendra a fright was the gladiator that she saw entangled within its coils.

It was her brother.