North! Or Be Eaten

by Andrew Peterson

  “Oh, stop it,” said Leeli. “Now’s not the time.” She leaned forward and rested her head between Nugget’s ears. The dog whined and wagged its tail. “Why aren’t they coming?”

  “Because they know we’re trapped, lass,” said Podo. “Look.”

  The Fangs gathered at the bottom of the bank and ordered the trolls back. The Fangs seemed worried that the children might somehow get pushed over the falls in the fight if they advanced too quickly, so they proceeded with caution. More Fangs appeared, and they organized themselves into ranks. Meanwhile, the trolls knelt like children at the river’s edge and ran their fingers through the speeding water. When daggerfish leapt, the giggling trolls batted them out into the rapids.

  “Where do we go now?” Oskar asked.

  “Nowhere,” said Podo with a deep sigh. “We stand and fight.” He drew his sword. “We fight, and we don’t give up until the water’s lapping at our toes, eh? If something terrible happens and us old codgers don’t make it through this, then you kids stay together, hear? Fight with yer teeth if you have to, but stay together. I don’t know what old Gnag has planned for you, but you just trust the Maker and…and do like your father would have you do. Do like me and yer ma would have you do. Don’t just follow your heart. Your heart will betray you.”

  “Tink, where are you going?” Janner asked. Tink was ten steps or so away, picking a path around a boulder that seemed to hover in the fog. “Tink!” Janner yelled, growing angry again.

  “I told you, I thought I saw something,” Tink said without looking up. “An outline in the rocks, like someone had started to draw some stairs or a path down from the tree line but never finished. Look!” He kicked at some loose stones.

  All Janner could see was more rock.

  Tink rolled his eyes and brushed some more of the shale away. “Steps,” he said.

  The squared hunk of rock was worn smooth from years of erosion, but it was clearly man-made, as wide as a sword length and cut from the bedrock.

  “I don’t see what you’re so happy about. How does a step or two get us past the Fangs?”

  Tink pointed below the cliff where the others gathered, and Janner understood. He saw buried beneath the pebbles and slate the faint outline of more steps, cut into the face of the cliff. Even now that he knew they were there, he had to squint and use his imagination to see the stairs, and he wasn’t sure anyone but Tink would have spotted them.

  Janner laughed and clapped Tink on the back. “Stairs! Tink found stairs!”

  The steps probably led to another dead end, but knowing their final stand wouldn’t be there on the bank, that it wouldn’t happen for a few more minutes, made Janner giddy.

  While Podo lowered an eyebrow and Oskar raised both of his, Nia, Leeli, and Nugget sprang to where Janner and Tink stood. Nia saw the steps at once. She gasped, kissed Tink’s forehead, and led Nugget down. Janner, after giving Tink a look of apology, followed his brother down. Podo and Oskar went last. In moments they disappeared below the lip of the cliff and into the mist.

  The stair was treacherous, no more than a narrow ledge cut into the wall of rock. The wall curved away from the bank and seemed to lead straight into the waterfall, while on the right the ground fell away and vanished into the void below.

  Over the noise of the falls, Oskar and Podo could be heard just behind Janner and Tink, huffing and grumbling things like “blasted wet clothes” and “my spectacles are so fogged up I can hardly see a thing” and “speed up, ye old bag, they won’t be far behind.”

  Just in front of Janner, Nugget kept as close to the wall as possible, his tail between his legs. The ledge took them behind a rush of water, a passageway of thunder, spray, and stone. When they emerged, the stair descended more sharply into the mist.

  Nugget stopped, and Janner bumped into the dog’s rear.

  “What is it?” he called to Nia and Leeli as he squeezed past Nugget.

  “The steps end here,” Tink said, pointing at a fall of white water hissing through a gap as wide as the lane that led from the Igiby cottage. Had it been a stream in the forest, they might’ve jumped across with little trouble.

  Janner crept forward and stuck his hand into the rushing water, and it was jerked downstream as if someone had slapped it. There was no way they could wade or swim across without being swept away.

  “What’s holdin’ us up?” Podo asked from behind Nugget.

  Janner turned to answer and saw Fangs descending the steps behind them.

  “Grandpa!” he cried.

  In one fluid motion, Podo drew his sword, spun around, and put an end to the nearest snake man. It took a few moments for the second Fang in line to understand what had happened, but when it did, it snarled and waved its sword at Podo.

  “Hurry!” Podo roared, parrying a blow and kicking the second Fang over the side. Another was close behind.

  “Tink, can you make it?” Janner yelled.

  “Make what?”

  “The jump! It’s our only chance. Can you do it?”

  “But then what? What about Oskar? What about Grandpa?”

  Janner’s temper flared again. “I don’t know! Even if you’re the only one who makes it over, that’s better than all of us being caught! Can you do it?”

  Without another word, Tink backed up, took a deep breath, and jumped. He landed on the other side of the gap and rolled to a crouch.

  “Leeli, can you get Nugget to jump over?” Nia shouted.

  “I think so,” Leeli said. She leaned over and whispered into Nugget’s ear.

  “Here, boy!” Tink called. He clapped his hands and whistled.

  Janner saw Podo struggling with another Fang, this one wielding a spear. Podo danced back from the point of the spear and bumped into Nugget’s rump. Nugget yelped and leapt to the other side of the gap.

  “Good boy, Nugget!” cried Nia.

  “Mama, you’re next,” Janner said. “Go!”

  Nia grabbed Janner’s elbow. “No, son, you should—”

  “Go!” Janner screamed, and Nia went. She was thin and strong, but her feet didn’t reach the other side. Nia landed with her waist at the edge, her hands flailing to find purchase on the rock. Her legs disappeared into the rush of water and whipped her sideways.

  “Mama!” Leeli screamed.

  Tink grabbed her hands and pulled with all his might, but he could feel his mother slipping away. Nia didn’t scream. She clenched her jaw and set her gaze on her son and daughter, her eyes burning into them so that veins stood out at her temples.

  Nugget took a fold of Nia’s blouse in his teeth, lifted her from the rapids, and set her down. She rolled onto her back, gasping.

  Janner wasn’t sure what to do next. He knew he could make the jump, but what of Oskar and Podo? Someone would have to hold off the Fangs to allow the others to escape, and if Nia had barely made the leap, then Oskar was certain to perish.

  Janner drew his sword.

  He wanted to be strong and brave enough to push past Podo and fend off the Fangs so that his grandfather could escape, but he knew he was no match for the Fangs. Though they had shown themselves poor fighters, they were still venomous and strong. Much had happened in the weeks since the Dragon Day Festival—he had helped Podo defeat Commander Gnorm, and he had grown used to the heft of a sword—but he was still only twelve.

  Janner told himself he wasn’t being cowardly—he was being realistic. Gnag wanted the Jewels of Anniera, not Podo or Oskar. Wouldn’t it be right to escape while he could? Wouldn’t Oskar and Podo tell him to do the same?

  He looked back through the mist and saw Tink, Nia, and Leeli watching, none of them sure what to do. Podo raged on, cursing the Fangs amidst the clang of swords and the rumble of the Mighty Blapp. Oskar pressed a hand to his wounded side and sank to the ground.

  Janner stood between those he loved with his sword drawn, wavering between two terrible choices: flee and hope Podo could hold off the Fangs long enough for him and his siblings to make their way ac
ross the falls—if indeed there was a way—or throw himself into a fight he couldn’t possibly win.

  Then Janner remembered his uncle. He saw in his mind the way Peet the Sock Man had soared through the air into the rockroach gully with that fierce look in his bloodshot eyes.

  Protect. Protect. Protect.

  Janner was no longer just Janner Igiby of the Glipwood Township. He was Janner Wingfeather, Throne Warden of Anniera, protector of the throne, and protector of those whom he loved. He imagined Peet—Artham Wingfeather—hair jet black, eyes clear, sword arm strong. Artham reminded him that royal blood pumped through his veins, royal not just because of ancestry but because of the love of those who had gone before him and laid down their lives for him.

  A battle cry rose up from within him like a fountain. He pulled Oskar to his feet and half-carried him to the water’s edge.

  On the steps above, another Fang appeared beside the one with the spear and aimed a crossbow at Podo. Just before it fired, Podo seized the end of the spear and slammed one Fang into the other, knocking them both over the edge. The bolt shot away into the mist. Before the old pirate had time to catch his breath, two more Fangs emerged from the fog. Podo groaned.

  “Tink! Help Leeli down!” Janner ordered. “Nugget, come here! Here!”

  With a whine, Nugget hopped back across the gap.

  “Come on, Mister Reteep,” Janner said. “I need you to get on Nugget’s back.”

  “Oh my,” wheezed Oskar. “I don’t think this is a good idea, young Janner. In the words of the poet Shank Po, ‘I’d rather not. What else have you got?’”

  Janner smiled in spite of himself. “Come on, sir.”

  He pulled Nugget’s head to the ground, and the dog’s body followed. Oskar limped over to the giant dog and fell upon it gracelessly. Nugget whimpered and strained to his feet beneath the weight of the big man. Oskar wrapped his arms around Nugget’s neck.

  Nugget, strong as he was, had never carried anyone as large as Oskar. The dog nosed at the edge and whined at Leeli. She smiled and clapped her hands twice.

  The dog crouched, flexed the great muscles of his legs, and sprang. He landed well, but Oskar lost his grip and tumbled off onto the ground.

  Janner turned to Podo.

  “Lad, ye better go! Old Podo’s not got much left in ‘im. You’ve got to get safe away!” Podo thrust the spear at another Fang. “I’m in a good spot. No more than two can attack at a time. Somebody’s got to stay here and hold ‘em off.”

  Janner saw the reason in Podo’s plan. It made sense.

  He stepped past Podo and raised his sword. He wasn’t sure how to place his feet or hold his weapon for the coming attack, but he knew that if Artham Wingfeather, Throne Warden of the Shining Isle, could see him now, he would smile.

  13

  Miller’s Bridge

  Janner never had a chance to swing his sword.

  The two Fangs at the steps retreated into the mist and left Janner and Podo dumbfounded.

  “Come on, lad!” The old pirate wasted no time scrambling down the steps. He skidded to a stop at the edge of the rushing water. Without being told, Nugget hopped across again and crouched so Podo could climb on. The giant dog barked and carried him over.

  Janner was the last to cross.

  They pushed on, still unable to see more than a few yards ahead. The rock ledge widened and allowed them to move at a quicker pace. Then, above the rumble of the falls, came the familiar, chilling sound of the troll growl-moan. Beneath it was a vibrating thud-thud-thud, as if the river had a beating heart. Janner realized the troll was running down the steps behind them.

  “Hurry!” Janner screamed. He moved to the front of the procession to find Tink taking the first step down another narrow length of stairs.

  “I’m hurrying!” snapped Tink. “I just can’t see what’s ahead!”

  Janner barreled down the steps past Tink, hoping they didn’t end abruptly as the last ones had, or his momentum would carry him straight over the edge. Immediately the mist lightened. Sunlight broke through in places, and he caught sight of blue sky.

  Janner’s heart pounded in time with the thud of the troll footsteps. “It’s clearer down here!” he called over his shoulder. “We might be getting close to the other side!”

  The others descended the steps as quickly as they dared. Janner kept an eye on the mist behind them, waiting for the trolls to emerge.

  The air changed from a featureless fog into wisps and curls stabbed with sunbeams. The sky was fully visible above, but below lay only mist, so it seemed they were walking on a cloud.

  Then with a whoosh of wind, the mist spun away for a heart-stopping moment. The eternal gray of the Dark Sea of Darkness yawned before them. Here the plateau of Skree was twice as high as the cliffs of Glipwood. The tiny whitecapped waves were invisible at this height, and the horizon curved downward to the north and south, which made Janner wonder if the books he had read were right after all in their claims that Aerwiar was as round as the moon.

  At last Janner saw the final cusp of Fingap Falls and realized with a snap of despair that they had only begun to cross the giant river. Where the Blapp poured over the edge and into the sea, the river divided into a score of channels, all of them as wide as rivers themselves, spreading out like foamy veins before they careened into the Dark Sea.

  But the waters made one last stop on the way down.

  A shelf of rock jutted out and caught the falls like an open hand, forming a shallow lake in its palm. At the far edge of the shelf rose stone towers like giant fingers curled upward, and the white waters slipped between them and merged again as they fell. Between each of the towers stretched what looked from this distance to be a paper-thin span of rock.

  Miller’s Bridge.

  Janner could see that it had been built by a far greater civilization than his own. The towers were worn by thousands of years of weather and water, but it was clear they were no natural formations. Someone built this, he thought, and he felt very small. And he understood why the bridge was so little known; only those foolish enough to descend the stair into the mist would ever get close enough to see it.

  Then, as quickly as the mist had been whooshed away by the gust of wind, Janner’s thoughts were scattered by an earsplitting roar behind them.

  Podo turned to face the troll.

  The creature loomed over them, squatting on a boulder the size of a house. It had come from another direction, Janner realized, probably leaping through the mist from boulder to boulder so that it could cut the family off or at least surprise them. While Podo had been watching the stairs behind, the troll had been approaching from above. After a dumb grin at the Igiby family, the beast gathered itself and leapt from the rock.

  “Run!” Podo bellowed.

  Heedless of the dizzying height, Janner grabbed Nugget’s collar and sprinted down the steps, which angled away from the cliff wall and narrowed.

  What had been a ledge was now a bridge held up by stone turrets. The way was still wide enough for two to walk abreast, but the fall on either side made the going precarious. Nugget followed Janner only because of Leeli’s constant assurance, and Janner wondered more than once whether the ancient bridge would support the giant dog’s weight. He prayed it would, even as he hoped it collapsed beneath the troll.

  The troll landed on the ledge with a crash that sent vibrations through Janner’s feet. Just behind him, Nia struggled down the steps as quickly as she could with Oskar limping beside her, an arm around her shoulder. Tink took the rear with Podo and inched down the stairs backward with his bow trained on the troll. Janner reminded himself again that if they survived, he owed Tink an apology and a great deal of praise.

  The troll stopped where the ledge became the bridge. The brute cocked its head sideways and scratched at its sprout of hair, then hammered a fist on the bridge. Pebbles shook loose and vanished into the water below, but the bridge held. A second troll joined the first, and they appeared to be conversi
ng, their big, lippy mouths flapping at each other in earnest. Janner wished he could hear what kind of language they spoke, and if he hadn’t been running for his life, he would’ve laughed at the thought.

  They reached the first of the towering fingers of the shelf. The top was a flat area no larger than the Igiby garden, big enough for six humans and one giant dog, but not by much. From here Janner could see the whole of Fingap Falls above and behind: the network of waters pouring between the rocks, slamming into carved boulders and scattering again, gushing down through the misty air to the palm of the rock shelf, where the water gathered into what looked like a boiling lake before it slipped between the towers and into the Dark Sea.

  The shelf jutted out from the cliff so that when Janner looked down he felt that he was floating. He saw only white water, and below, the gray sea. All the world was water.

  Each of them, even Nugget, was out of breath. Their arrival at the first tower seemed something of an accomplishment, and the trolls hadn’t yet ventured onto the bridge, so they silently agreed to stop for a moment’s rest. Nugget bore Leeli at the center of the huddle. She sat with her back straight, one hand stroking Nugget’s neck, the other shading her eyes as she gazed out at the horizon with a calm that mystified Janner. Tink held Nia’s hand and rested his head against her arm, looking like the tired little boy he was.

  Janner clenched his jaw. He wished he was back in the Igiby cottage, lying in the bunk below Tink, laughing with his brother about some silly thing. Their lives in Glipwood hadn’t been ideal, but standing on a rock amidst the clamor of Fingap Falls wasn’t ideal either. Even T.H.A.G.S. seemed better than this.

  Podo cleared his throat and spat into the Dark Sea. Janner saw that his grandfather trembled, facing the sea with what looked like defiance. Podo’s sword was drawn as if the ocean, or something in it, was about to attack.

  “Hadn’t we better go?” yelled Oskar, leaning wearily against Nugget’s flank. “They’re coming.”

  All eyes turned to the ledge far behind them. The two trolls clung to the stone wall so that the long line of Fangs had room to cross the bridge in single file.