On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness

by Andrew Peterson

  The song ended and for a moment before the applause, the small gathering of listeners was silent. Janner looked up to see that his mother’s face was wet with tears and that she, like the bard, was staring into the distance.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked, squeezing her hand.

  Nia jumped a little, like he’d just woken her from a nap. She smiled down at him. “It’s nothing, child. And why are you crying?”

  Janner hadn’t realized it, but his cheeks were wet as well. “There’s just something about the way he sings. It makes me think of when it snows outside, and the fire is warm, and Podo is telling us a story while you’re cooking, and there’s no place I’d rather be—but for some reason I still feel… homesick.” Janner looked down, embarrassed.

  Tink and Leeli were silent, for Janner had spoken their thoughts as well.

  Armulyn, still barefoot, was shaking hands and shyly nodding his head in reply to people’s compliments. He picked up his whistleharp and bid them farewell, walking toward Janner and his family. Nia sucked in a breath of air and quickly bustled the children on down the shadowy lane.

  “Mama, can’t we meet him?” Tink asked, looking over his shoulder at Armulyn, who was making his way directly toward them.

  “No, it’s time we got home. Papa will be worried sick.”

  “Mama, please?” Leeli said.

  “I said no.” Nia picked up the pace. Leeli, even with Nia’s hand on her arm, lost her footing and fell to the ground. Nia stopped to help her up, apologizing while she brushed the dirt from Leeli’s dress.

  “I like your dog,” a kind, raspy voice said from behind them.

  The children froze. Nia stopped brushing Leeli’s dress and straightened. She worked her way around to face the silhouette of Armulyn the Bard. He was bent over, patting Nugget on the head. Janner and Tink were speechless.

  “Thank you. His name is Nugget,” Leeli said, and she scooted over to where Nugget sat wagging his tail. She peered up at the dim silhouette of the bard. “I like your singing.”

  “Why thank you, little princess,” Armulyn said, squatting down in front of her.

  Nia was still strangely silent, standing a little ways back from them. Armulyn held out his hand to Leeli. “My name is Armulyn. I don’t like it here,” he said with a smile that Janner could barely see in the dark.

  Leeli smiled back at him, unfazed by the strange remark. “My name is Leeli. I can’t walk very well.”

  At her name, Armulyn’s smile faded and he leaned a little closer to better see her face. He looked up at Nia and the boys, who still hadn’t moved. “And who might you kind people be?”

  “Our name is Igiby,” Nia said stiffly. She stepped quickly to Leeli and pulled her away from the bard. “We wish you a good evening,” she said. She led the children once again toward home, leaving Armulyn standing in the middle of the road staring after them.

  When they approached the warm cottage nestled among the trees, they could see lamps burning in the windows. Fireflies flickered in the night air, and Danny the carthorse snorted in the pasture. Janner felt another rush of gladness that he wasn’t dead, or worse, trapped in the Black Carriage.

  Before they reached the door it flew open wide. Podo’s tall, one-legged form filled the doorway. He had a stout club in one hand and brandished a wooden spoon in the other. “WHERE IN ALL THE GREAT GOOD GOAT GOBBLIN’ WORLD HAVE YOU BEEN, OUT TRAIPSING THE FROLLOCKY HILLSIDES WHILE I’VE BEEN HERE GNAWIN’ ON MY GUMS! YOU JUST MARCH YER SOGGY FEET OVER HERE BEFORE I YANK OUT YOUR INNARDS AND STEW ’EM IN A…”

  Their grandfather’s torrent lasted at least two minutes, and would have gone on much longer, but the children broke free from Nia and tackled the big man with hugs. His club and deadly spoon dropped to the floor, and he nearly toppled over, but years of practice with one leg had made Podo Helmer quite agile.

  In a moment he had Tink in a headlock and was poking his ribs with one of his gnarled, callused fingers while Janner and Leeli tried to wrestle him to the ground. Finally, he gave in and toppled backward dramatically, howling all the while about rotten children and their disrespect of their elders. They tumbled about on the floor by the light of the crackling fire in the hearth until the match ended and the old man stood up with a groan. Out of breath and sweating, he beamed down at them and pushed a wild lock of long white hair out of his eyes.

  “You’ll be wantin’ some of my cheesy chowder and butterbread, won’t you, my little warriors?” he said, panting. “It’s been simmering all evening, along with a thousand prayers that ye’d make it back to yer Podo safe and uneaten.”

  At the mention of food, Tink moaned with pleasure and disappeared into the kitchen, rubbing his stomach.

  Podo hoisted Leeli onto his back and carried her. “Lost yer wee crutch, eh? We’ll make you up another in the bright morning,” he said as the kitchen door swung shut behind him.

  Janner watched Nia wearily close and bar the front door. She bowed her head and whispered a prayer of thanksgiving.

  “I love you, Ma,” Janner said, pushing down the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry I lost her.”

  “Shh. It’s all right,” Nia said. “You did well, son.” And with a weary smile she ushered him into the kitchen.

  14

  Secrets and Cheesy Chowder

  Janner joined Leeli and Tink at the table to gobble down the cheesy chowder. After the day he’d had, this seemed the finest meal he had ever eaten. A vat of steaming soup filled the kitchen with a rich, buttery smell, and a fresh loaf of butterbread had been sliced and set on the table. Janner got up to refill his bowl (Tink had already eaten three) and heard a snippet of conversation between Nia and Podo in the next room.

  “What in the name of smelly seaweed and sour salad happened to the bitties?” Podo demanded, pounding his club on the plank floor.

  “Well, Papa, that granddaughter of yours wandered off. I told you I didn’t feel good about letting them go into town alone. Janner and Tink didn’t notice she was gone—”

  “What? If I’ve told that boy once I’ve told him a jabillion times! He’s to watch over them—”

  “Hush, now, Papa. They’re safe. That’s what matters now.”

  A long pause. Janner’s cheeks burned with shame. “Aye, aye. He’s just a lad yet. I shouldn’ta let ’em into town alone, not on a day like this. Then what happened?”

  “Leeli tried to protect Nugget from a Fang. She kicked it.”

  “The dog?”

  “The Fang.”

  “She did? My little warrior lass had the sweet pluck to round on a Fang?”

  Janner couldn’t see Podo, but knew he was smiling proudly with his bushy eyebrows raised. He also knew his mother’s expression would be disapproving.

  Within seconds, Podo cleared his throat and said gravely, “She did, eh? Reckless child. Oughter’ve known better.”

  “And the boys tried to save her,” Nia said.

  “Aha!” Podo thundered, and Janner grinned. Podo cleared his throat again and said in a loud whisper, “I knew those lads had a fire in their bellies! Two wee fighters against the Fangs of Dang! I tell ye they’ve got their ol’ Podo’s growl and girth in ’em! If their father could see them now—”Janner stopped smiling, as Podo stopped short.

  A heavy silence divided them all. “Sorry, lass,” Podo said after a moment. He was suddenly tender in a way that surprised Janner. “Go on,” Podo urged Nia. “What happened then?”

  Nia took a deep breath. “I’m not sure, but I think I have a guess. The kids said that someone threw two rocks that knocked the Fangs flat. They didn’t see where the rocks came from. Then they ran to find us. It wasn’t until after the dragons sang that they were caught and taken to the jail.”

  Again, neither spoke for a moment. Podo broke the silence. “Well grab my gizzard, honey, do you think it was…him?”

  Podo’s voice had suddenly lowered and Janner heard his own heart quicken. Does she think it was who? he wondered as he eased away
from the stove and pressed his ear to the door.

  “I don’t know,” Nia said, “but it certainly sounds like something he’d do.” There was another long pause. “Whoever it was, I’m thankful. The children are alive.”

  Janner could tell by his mother’s tone that the discussion was over.

  “Jnnnr, gimmph s’more chrrdrrbrph,” Tink mouthed from the table.

  “Huh?” Janner said, turning around a little too quickly.

  Tink swallowed his mouthful of food and belched loudly. “Get me some more chowder, eh? Since you’re up.”

  Deep in thought, Janner filled Tink’s bowl and sat back down at the table. Leeli was feeding Nugget bits of food, and Tink was oblivious to anything but the steaming bowl of soup in front of him. Janner thought back over every detail of that afternoon, and he couldn’t think of one clue as to who could have thrown the rocks. The alley was deep enough that whoever threw them had to be an excellent shot. Only two rocks thrown, and they hit their marks perfectly—and they came at the very last second. How could that be? And how was it that Podo and his mother had a guess as to who the mysterious rock thrower was?

  Suddenly, with a crash and a pirate growl, Podo burst into the room. “WHAT’S THIS I HEAR ABOUT BRAVE LITTLE RENEGADES TERRORIZING THE TAR OUT OF THE LOCAL LIZARDS?” he roared. Hobbling over to Leeli, Podo swept her up over his shoulder with one of his giant tattooed arms as she squealed and pounded playfully on his back.

  “Now get in here, lads and lasses and tell me a tale that’ll make me quiver in me boots.” Podo kicked open the door with his wooden stump and carried Leeli out of the kitchen like a kidnapped maiden.

  Janner and Tink smiled at one another and pushed away from the table, Tink with a mouthful of butterbread and Janner with a head full of questions.

  15

  Two Dreams and a Nightmare

  That night, after telling the story to Podo four times, the children slept. Tink dreamed of sea dragons and pie. Leeli dreamed of sea dragons and dogs. Janner dreamed of sea dragons and his father.

  Janner had one of the nightmares he often had about his father, and all he could ever remember in the morning was a boat and fire. There was another dream, one in which he could almost make out his father’s face, a dream full of golden light and green fields. That bright dream filled him with the same feelings as Armulyn’s song had the night before, feelings that somehow hurt and felt good all at the same time.

  But this night he had tossed in his bed with the heat of the dream fire surrounding him, roaring in his ears.

  When Janner woke he was sweating, but birds were chirping and the golden light of dawn eased through the windows. It felt as though the previous day’s events were part of his nightmare, and the world of his warm bed and the sturdy old cottage so full of life was the only real one. The Fangs seemed about as dangerous as weed snakes.

  Janner stretched and sat on the edge of his bed. Happy beams of sunlight landed on the floor and scattered the shadows. Leaning against Leeli’s bed was a freshly made little crutch that Podo must have spent most of the night making. Carved into the crosspiece in small, neat letters was the inscription LEELI IGIBY: LIZARDKICKER

  Janner could hear the clatter of Nia preparing breakfast in the kitchen, humming in muffled tones. He smiled to himself, stretched, and ambled into the main room where he lay down on the cushioned couch, yawning while he scratched his head. He was staring up at the timbers in the ceiling, letting the fresh fire in the hearth warm him when he heard the familiar tap-clunk, tap-clunk, tap-clunk of Podo approaching the front of the cottage. Janner heard him grumbling to himself even before the door opened.

  “Rotten stinking rodents…teach you to touch my totaters…lucky I’ve only got one leg, you, you, worm-eating, ankle-biting…”

  Janner peeked over the back of the couch to see Podo hobbling through the door with a sack full of vegetables over his shoulder, his boot and the bottom of his peg leg wet with dew. The grumbling resumed as Podo made his way through the kitchen door. Janner was barely able to keep from snorting with laughter. When the door swung shut, the smell of cooked eggs and bacon drifted into the room, and Janner’s stomach rumbled. Just as he got up from the couch, he heard the thump of Tink dropping down from his bunk, right on cue with the arrival of breakfast.

  When Janner entered the kitchen, his mouth was watering. On the table sat three plates of hot food. His mother smiled at him from the stove where she was frying more eggs and bacon.

  “Good morning, jailbird,” she said. The back door was ajar and Podo was already bounding through the field toward the garden, bellowing something indecipherable. Janner sat down at the table and dug into his food just as Tink bumbled through the kitchen door and headed straight for his chair. Nia pecked them both on the cheek.

  “Leeli coming?” she asked. Tink nodded with a mouthful of bacon.

  Leeli came through the door and stretched so taut that her nightgown came up to her shins. Nugget trotted past her to nose his way out the back door, eager to assist Podo in wrathful pursuit of the thwaps.

  Leeli greeted her brothers with a light backhand on each of their shoulders as she scooted past with the LIZARDKICKER crutch from Podo. Tink and Janner grunted, their mouths full of bacon.

  “I see you have a new crutch, dear,” Nia said.

  Janner and Tink took sudden interest in their sister and complimented her between gulps of milk.

  “The three of you slept late, so eat quickly and get dressed. The Dragon Day festival is over and life goes back to normal today,” Nia said, placing a plate of food in front of Leeli. “Your chores and studies are waiting.”

  Janner thought that his mother looked tired, which was odd since he always had the feeling that she’d been awake for hours before he stumbled in for breakfast. There was something in her eyes—was it worry?—and she seemed to move a little slower. But when she put two more slices of hot bacon on his plate and tousled his hair, he decided it was probably his imagination.

  For as long as they could remember, Nia had taught the children what she called T.H.A.G.S.1 Janner studied writing and poetry. Tink spent his time painting and drawing. Leeli learned to sing and to play the whistleharp. Tink had asked his mother once what was so traditional about learning the T.H.A.G.S. when not one other child in Glipwood was forced to spend hours upon hours drawing the same tree over and over from different angles.

  “You’re an Igiby,” she said, as if that answered the question.

  No other boy in Glipwood had to read as many old books or write as many pages as Janner, and no other girl in town knew how to play an instrument. All three of the children had some proficiency in each of the T.H.A.G.S. but spent the vast majority of their time perfecting only one.

  Janner remembered with a stab of panic that later that day he and Tink were supposed to help Oskar N. Reteep in the bookstore, which was right across the street from the jail. What if Commander Gnorm saw him and changed his mind? He might send for the Black Carriage after all. What if Slarb attacked again? Then he thought about Books and Crannies, about all the stories on all the shelves in the store, and the warm thrill of being there overshadowed his fear. Janner swallowed the last of his breakfast. “Mister Reteep asked me and Tink to help him with a big shipment today. Is it all right to go into town?”

  Nia took her time flipping the eggs and bacon in the frying pan while they waited for an answer. “Not really, no. It’s not all right. It’s never safe for you to go into town, especially after what happened yesterday.” Janner’s shoulders slumped. “But we can’t live in fear,” Nia said. “We won’t live in fear.” She turned and looked hard at her boys, wiping her hands on her apron. “Just be careful, and stay clear of that awful Slurp.”

  “Slarb,” Tink said.

  “And don’t forget to return the books you borrowed, Janner. You’ve finished them, haven’t you?” Nia asked.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “What did you think?”

  “I read In
the Age of the Kindly Flabbits.2 It was okay. The other one was better,” Janner said, clearing his dishes from the table. He had devoured a second book, one about dragons that actually flew and battles and a band of companions. It was full of high adventure, and Janner was sad when it ended, mainly because his life in Glipwood was so uneventful by comparison.

  Nia turned back to the stove. “Your father loved that story.”

  Janner smiled at the thought of his father, whoever he was, enjoying the same book. With a great commotion, Podo tap-clunked up to the back door and kicked it open. He was out of breath, holding two furry thwaps in an outstretched fist for the world to see.

  “TWO!” he roared, and thrust the thwaps into the same sack he had used the previous morning. The old man bent over Nugget and rubbed his head fiercely, then stepped inside. “No fear, no fear, ladies. I’ll not toss ’em over the cliffs,” he said with a wink at Janner.

  When Podo saw Leeli his face lit up as it always did. “There’s my little lizardkicker, Leeli the Brave!” He squeezed the back of Tink’s neck. “And you! Tink the Quick, who dove into the fray—weaponless—and wrested the lady from the snake man! Now where…” He searched the room for Janner, who was standing by the kitchen door, unaware of the grin on his own face. “Ah! Janner the Strong! Backbreaker, who leapt onto the Fang like a toothy cow and lived to tell the tale!”

  “Oh Papa, stop it,” Nia said, filling Podo’s plate. “Now children, go on and get dressed,” Nia said, waving them off and setting Podo’s hot breakfast on the table. While the smiling children filed out of the kitchen, he growled with a twinkle in his eye and swept Nia into the air and over his shoulder. The last thing Janner saw as he exited the room was his mother demanding to be “placed back down this instant.”

  After feeding Danny the carthorse and the hogpig, the boys had to help Podo collect fertilizer (compliments of the hogpig) and spread it over the summer garden (for food that would eventually be eaten by them all, including the hogpig). This set Janner thinking all kinds of thoughts about life, death, and fertilizer.