CHAPTER 28
The Rain and Blob Show
Hey, my sword!”
I rushed over toward what looked like a Ficus benjamina tree at the edge of the clearing. It was the next morning. After sleeping a few hours, we’d risen with the sun and begun preparing for our journey into the valley formed by the large creek. As the Elves packed up their tents, the Dwarves scrounged the forest, looking for the rest of our weapons and supplies that had been scattered in the Troll attack.
That’s when I spotted my sword tangled up in the tree’s exposed roots.
I grasped the handle and pulled it free.
“I found my sword!” I said, holding it up as I rejoined the others.
Five shocked gasps erupted from the group. Specifically, from Edwin, Lixi, Foxflame, Wrecking Ball, and Rhistel.
“What is it?” Ari asked, drawing her ax, looking around for whatever had startled the Elves.
“It’s . . . it’s the Sword of Anduril,” Edwin said, gawking at the weapon in my hand.
“The what?” Glam asked, confirming that I wasn’t the only one who had no idea what Edwin was talking about.
“The Sword of Anduril,” Foxflame said. “Also known as the Oathbreaker, the Jaws of the Sun, the Willsmasher, the Bringer of the Prince, the Gutrender, and the Pledge of Suffering’s End.”
“Okay, so?” Glam sneered. “Other than having a thousand names, what makes this sword so special?”
“Well, for one, we all thought it was a myth,” Foxflame said, his awed gaze still fixed on the sword. “A legend our elders told us for pure entertainment.”
“I can’t believe it’s actually real,” Lixi whispered, transfixed by the old, perfectly ordinary-looking sword with a makeshift hilt clutched awkwardly in my hand.
“It’s supposedly one of the most powerful Elven swords ever crafted,” Edwin said, clearly seeing that we still weren’t getting how or why this sword was special. “At least, according to the old legend.”
“It was once owned by Elf Lord Tarron Valrynn, the seventeenth Ordained Elf Lord,” Foxflame added. “So I’m sure that tells you how old it is.”
Though I didn’t know much about the history and succession of Elf Lords, especially going back to Separate Earth, the fact that Elf Lord Valrynn had been just the seventeenth Elf Lord ever did indicate, in a very basic way, that this sword was exceptionally ancient. (If it was in fact the same sword—I still wasn’t at all convinced.) If it was the same sword, then it was possibly even older than the Bloodletter.
“In the right hands, the sword is peerless,” Foxflame continued. “Indestructible and devastating in battle. It also supposedly possesses a magical prowess unparalleled by any other weapon ever made, Elven, Dwarven, Orcish, Human, or of any other origin. The Sword of Anduril is said to have been forged by Agis Balynore, a renowned Elven blacksmith who was frequently contracted to make weapons and other objects for the ancient god Bitrix, the Lord and Keeper of Death. Anyway, after Bitrix became bored with our planet, and moved on to others in the universe, she gifted the sword to Elf Lord Valrynn. For many years, the powerful weapon helped Lord Valrynn rule the United Elven Kingdoms, restore order, and keep the peace. But it was stolen one night after a particularly raucous royal party. Stolen by a Human knight, of all things, named Sir Neel the Jackal. After that, all record of it is lost. Neither the sword nor Sir Neel were ever seen or heard from again.”
“Master!” Blob shouted, so excitedly that an air bubble in his blobby goo popped, releasing a particularly pungent waft of his horrible odor.
We all covered our noses.
“Your master was Sir Neel the Jackal?” Ari asked through her sleeve.
“Yes!” Blob said. “Well, I mean, he changed his name, of course, to avoid capture. Stealing anything from an Elf Lord is punishable by death, you know. But stealing his prized sword would have been punishable by a long, torturous death, spanning several agonizing decades. So when he found me, he was no longer Sir Neel the Jackal, but instead went by the name Nobleman Rainaldus the Honest. But I just called him Rain. Yeah, Rain and Blob, we were a real pair, we were.”
The fact that we’d found Blob with this sword certainly lent some credence to the Elves’ story. That is, if we could believe Blob. But so far, he’d given me no reason not to trust the many, many, many, many (etc.) things he said.
I examined the sword again, expecting to see it differently now that it had some context. But to me it still just looked like an old sword, despite being remarkably well preserved (especially if it was as old as they said it was).
“What happened to Rain?” Ari asked.
“Master Rain?” Blob replied slowly and sadly. “I must confess I do not know. He cut a hole in the stone and told me to go inside to see what I could find. I, being a dutiful friend and servant, happily obliged. The next thing I knew, the entrance was sealed, and I was stuck inside the stone for many, many years. Until you lot came along and finally let me out again.”
The clearing fell silent as the Elves ogled my new sword like they were watching a star go supernova or something.
“It just looks like a regular sword to me,” I said. “How can you be so sure this is the Sword of Anduril? It doesn’t even have any markings or anything.”
“What do you mean, it ‘looks like a regular sword’?” Edwin asked, clearly stunned by my comment. “Do you not see that?”
If anything, his awe only made the sword look even more unremarkable.
“See what?”
“The blade,” Lixi said softly.
“The way it shimmers and sparkles like liquid diamonds,” Foxflame continued.
“Like purple gemstones in the sun,” Wrecking Ball added.
“It’s the most beautiful and magical-looking weapon I’ve ever seen,” Edwin said. “You really don’t see that?”
I looked again at the cold, unpolished steel of the blade.
“Nope,” I said, then turned to my Dwarven companions. “Do you guys see any of this?”
They all shook their heads, clearly as confused as I was.
I shrugged finally and sheathed the sword, breaking the bizarre spell it had cast over our Elven companions. They were still looking at the hilt sticking up from the scabbard, but they now looked more envious than transfixed.
The nice thing to do would have been to offer them this supposedly magical sword in exchange for a different weapon, since it clearly had so much value to them. But at the same time, it made more sense for me to hang on to it for now. As a sort of bargaining chip I could maybe use later, once we found the amulet.
I’m sure Edwin understood this logic, because he finally looked up from the sword and nodded at me.
“Okay, then,” he said. “Let’s get going—let’s go find the amulet.”
CHAPTER 29
Glam, Ari, Tiki, and I Bury Ourselves in Sand
Well, it does look a lot like a two-headed turtle,” Edwin said. “I’ll give Bigfoot that much credit.”
We were all standing at the end of the ravine, where the creek flowed into the crevice where Dryatos Peak and the Empty Mountain seemed to converge. And just as Bigfoot John had described, where the water drained into the rock wall towering above, there was a formation of boulders that looked remarkably like a massive turtle with two heads.*
“I told you he wasn’t lying,” I said.
“Just because this is here doesn’t mean Bigfoot wasn’t lying about what’s behind it,” Edwin replied.
“Well, I almost hope he was lying!” I countered. “Since he pretty clearly stated we would not only not find the amulet, but also that perilous dangers lie past these boulders.”
Edwin considered this for a moment and then finally said, “Touché.”
“But John also said,” Ari added, “that nobody has ever managed to make it into the cave itself.”
We n
odded thoughtfully.
Bigfoot John had been pretty cryptic about that part, refusing to expound on what he meant. Which was weird. It certainly looked like moving these boulders would be as simple as casting a basic Dwarven spell or two.
“Stand aside,” Glam said, shoving her way to the front of the group. “I think I got this.”
Everyone gathered around her as she stepped closer to the massive turtle-shaped boulder formation. She closed her eyes and raised a hand, summoning a spell to move the boulders. But instead of the large rocks being blown aside by magical winds or shoved out of the way by enchanted vines from the earth, or even disintegrating into piles of gravel, they shifted and rumbled as if coming to life.
Which, we found out seconds later, was precisely what was happening.
The huge boulder that made up the turtle’s left head rose like it was waking from a nap. A mouth suddenly formed in the rock. It opened wide and lunged at Glam. She dove out of the way, narrowly avoiding getting snapped in half by the powerful stone jaws of the rock turtle.
The right head came to life as well. It also snapped at Glam as she rolled away. And it would have gotten her if Foxflame hadn’t swooped in with grace and balance and pulled her out of the way.
The turtle’s boulder heads dipped and bobbed, and its boulder legs shook, but its body did not move from its spot, anchored in front of the supposed cave entrance.
“I guess this is what John was referring to when he said nobody has ever gotten past the boulders,” I said, as Glam and Foxflame scampered back toward the group.
“If we can get past Forest Trolls and a Gragglebrax and Whettle Wasps, then I think we can take out a stationary two-headed rock turtle without much trouble,” Edwin said.
I doubted this would be that easy. Because why would it be? But I hoped he was right.
“Okay, then,” I said. “Do your thing.”
Edwin nodded at Wrecking Ball and Rhistel (the only other Elves with the Ability to perform magic). They approached the two-headed rock turtle, Edwin with his sword drawn, Wrecking Ball with a glowing fist raised, charged with Elven magic, and Rhistel with his staff, the medallion on the end ablaze with purple-and-red fire.
Then they launched their attack.
Streams, jets, bursts, and orbs of glowing Elven magic fired at the rock turtle from Wrecking Ball’s hand, Edwin’s sword, and Rhistel’s staff. It was like a fireworks display up close. Elven energy erupted across the necks and heads of the boulder turtle.
The creature lurched but did not move.
The energy dissipated and steam drifted up from an entirely unharmed and intact boulder turtle.
The twin heads opened their mouths at the same time, and an ear-piercing shriek dropped us to our knees. The wailing screech was so intense it felt like someone was trying to push my head apart from the inside, like it was an exploding watermelon.
We writhed in pain as the turtle shrieked. Even Blob sloshed about, feeling every bit as much displeasure as the rest of us. After an agonizing ten seconds, the noise finally faded. The twin turtle heads bobbed up and down as if to taunt us, or maybe even to warn us not to make it do that again.
“Egads!” Blob cried out. “It felt like I was melting! What was that?”
Edwin raised his sword as if to launch another attack, but Ari put her hand on his arm.
“Don’t!” she said. “Your magic clearly won’t have any effect on this thing.”
Edwin hesitated, but then nodded and lowered his weapon.
“What do we do?” Lixi asked.
“How can we get past this jonky murm of a thing?” Tiki added.
Nobody had an answer.
This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be how our quest ended, could it? Stopped by a stationary two-headed turtle made from rocks? Then again, the turtle, however enchanted it might be, was clearly still made of stone, a natural element of the earth that Dwarven magic should theoretically be able to manipulate.
“Let’s try Dwarven magic again,” I suggested. “From a safer distance than Glam tried.”
“Together, all four of us,” Ari agreed.
And so Glam, Ari, Tiki, and I faced the turtle, well out of range of its snapping boulder heads.
“What are we going for?” I asked. “Uprooting the rocks? Turning them into gravel? Summoning a mini-earthquake?”
“I agree we should all focus on the same sort of spell,” Ari said.
“Let’s pulverize them into sand,” Glam said, punching her fist into her palm.
“That should work,” I said. “After all, sand is just a huge boulder that has been finely divided again and again by the elements and weathering and stuff, down to tiny mineral particles. So Dwarven magic should have no problem speeding that up, right?”
Ari nodded slowly.
“Sounds right to me,” Tiki said. “Let’s give it a plorping shot.”
“Okay, so on the count of three, we all give everything we’ve got to reducing this turtle to piles of sand,” I said. “One . . . two . . . three!”
On three, I put every ounce of my magical will into dissolving this turtle-shaped pile of boulders into a formless mound of sand. I thought about all the fine sand along the sixteen miles of the Lake Michigan beaches in Chicago. I thought about the feeling of the tiny grains under my bare feet and the processes by which rock and stone eroded. I thought about the destruction of rocks and stone and just how much sand had developed over time on this planet.
And then I opened my eyes, almost expecting to see piles of gray and brown sand in front of me. But I knew better. We were Dwarves after all. Success didn’t come that easily to us.
What I actually saw was the turtle opening both of its mouths, its heads steadying in front of us.
I winced, anticipating more of that terrible shrieking.
But this time the turtle did not make a sound. Instead it began barfing up streams of sand all over us.
At first, I wanted to laugh, thinking our spells had worked after all. But then I quickly realized the turtles were mocking us. They spewed out so much sand that I was already buried up to my waist and could no longer move my legs after just a few seconds. Even as my brain processed this, the sand reached my chest, pinning my arms to my sides, crushing the breath right out of me.
Glam, Tiki, and Ari were shouting as we struggled against the fountains of sand.
The last thing I saw before the sand engulfed me whole was Ari’s desperate face as sand covered it up and buried her alive.
Then I was being crushed by darkness, unable to breathe or see.
But at least I would die like a Dwarf, having my own spell backfire while fighting a magical two-headed turtle.
What more could I have hoped for?
CHAPTER 30
Riddle Me This (For Real This Time)
I should have known better.
Of course our friends weren’t going to let us die in a pile of sand. I might have been a spectacularly epic failure, but that didn’t mean everyone else was. After just a few seconds, hands grabbed my hair and pulled. I would have screamed but opening my mouth would have meant swallowing more sand, and so I merely winced as the hands let go and then eventually found my armpits.
Moments later, I was being pulled from the sandpile, even as I summoned a wind spell to help disperse it.
Ari, Glam, Tiki, and I choked and wheezed as we rolled down the huge mound of sand piled in front of the very much intact boulder turtle.
There’d now be sand stuck in my underwear forever, it seemed, but at least I was still alive. I shook as much sand free from my hair and clothes as I could, spitting grainy, muddy bits of rock onto the ground. Someone handed me a flagon of water, and I drank greedily, trying to clear my mouth and throat. Glam, Tiki, and Ari did the same.
The turtle resumed bobbing its heads up and down, as if dancing to
a beat. Once again, I got the distinct impression it was a warning to stop trying to physically move it. It was almost as if the turtle didn’t actually want to harm us, but it would do whatever it had to in order to protect what lay behind it.
“Now what?” I finally managed to ask.
“We could try other spells?” Ari suggested.
“No, no way,” Edwin said. “I think it should be obvious by now that magic is not going to help us get past this thing.”
“There has to be a way past it somehow, though, right?” Lixi said.
“Not if whatever is behind it was never intended to be found,” Froggy said ominously.
This was something none of us had considered yet, and it cast the whole group into a defeated silence as the turtle loomed above us, still bobbing its heads. Now seemingly as if to say: Yeah, kid, you got it. That’s exactly what’s happening. You will never get past us!
“So that’s it, then?” Tiki said after a healthy silence. “We’re just giving up like a bunch of purbogging plorbies?”
“Hey, I’m not a plorby, you Gwinty refuse bag!” Rhistel shot back.
Tiki and Glam stood up as if to take the insult to blows. Rhistel reached for his staff, but Edwin quickly stepped between them.
“Guys, stop this!” he commanded, and both sides immediately fell silent. “Arguing among ourselves won’t solve anything!”
“He’s right,” Foxflame added. “We need to work together to find a solution—”
“Hey!” Ari suddenly shouted in a panic. “Where’s Lake?”
We all looked around, realizing that her twin brother was nowhere in sight. My first thought was that perhaps he’d been inadvertently buried in the massive sandpile. I clearly wasn’t alone, as we all turned toward it in a panic. But then Froggy stepped forward and pointed up at the rocky slope to the left of the boulder turtle.
“There he is.”
Lake was steadily climbing up the slope toward the back end of the largest boulder, the one that formed the turtle’s “shell.” It was a huge, slightly flattened, oval stone about the size of two school buses parked side by side. It probably wouldn’t have looked much like a turtle shell, aside from sharing the same general shape, were it not for the dozen or so other boulders attached to it, that made up the turtle’s tail, four limbs, two necks, and two heads.
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