On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness

by Andrew Peterson

  Tink looked down at the book in his hands. Homemade Rash Remedies: A Study in Discomfort.

  General Khrak was tired of meeting with Fang commanders. All week he had suffered their impudence, their whining, and their groveling, though the groveling pleased him and eased his suffering considerably. The sun was getting low in Torrboro, and he was staring at the rain out the high window of the Castle Torr, ignoring Commander Plube, a Fang with a habit of laughing at his own jokes. Khrak was considering having him executed for his bad sense of humor.

  “So this human walks into a tavern and says to the two-headed hogpig, ‘Who let out the goats?’ And the hogpig, he says, ‘I did, and what of it?’ And so the human, he says, ‘Oh, nothing,’ and he takes the hogpig by the tail and—”

  Plube stopped midsentence as Khrak rose from his throne and descended the steps, fixing him with an alarming gaze. The chamber was empty but for General Khrak and Plube. The greasy smile on his face melted away as Khrak approached until their noses were nearly touching. Plube was quivering in his armor. Never once during one of their meetings had Khrak left his throne, much less climbed down the steps.

  Plube closed his eyes and awaited the death that was sure to come. He had always fancied that Khrak enjoyed his jokes and stories. In his opinion, they made reporting on his boring precinct of Skree much less drab, and Khrak always seemed so humorless. He was only trying to help.

  General Khrak said nothing. He merely stared, waiting for Plube to open his eyes. One eyelid eased open, then the other. Plube relaxed a little, chuckling warily.

  “Go. And I don’t ever want to hear another story about a hogpig in a tavern. Ever.”

  “Y-yesss, lord,” Plube stammered feebly as he backed away. He tripped over himself in his haste, and when he fell, General Khrak laughed for the first time all week. The door thudded shut behind him and Khrak yawned. He was hungry.

  “SSSlave!” he said, and an old woman in tattered clothes shuffled into the room, bowing all the while. “Have a bowlful of ratbadger-tail salad brought to my chambers. And make sssure the lettuce is perfectly brown this time!” She bowed out of the room in a flurry of mumbles and apologies, and the Fang made his way through filth-strewn hallways to his chambers.

  He slunk into a chair and waited for his meal. He would be leaving the next new moon for the Castle Throg, and he always had to prepare his mind for that journey. Gnag had summoned him, which meant that he would spend four weeks crossing the Dark Sea of Darkness; then a long, dry trek across the barren Woes of Shreve to the Killridge Mountains, where the Nameless One made his home. He dreaded the journey. Here in Skree he was General Khrak, ruler of the land; but in the Castle Throg, he was the one groveling, he was the slave. No matter. It was a small price to pay for the power he wielded in Skree.

  Gnag had plans to widen his kingdom, to build a larger army, and if Gnag remained pleased with his service then it would be he, General Khrak, who led the great army into the Far West. He closed his eyes and reveled in the destruction he would visit on the peoples beyond the maps. He wanted that command. He was a Fang of Dang, made for war, yet here he was in Torrboro wasting his days with fools like Plube.

  True, he enjoyed the food and the fine filth of the place, and he enjoyed the groveling he received. But he felt that if he had to spend much more time listening to precinct commanders babbling on about the humans in their measly towns, he would gnaw off his own foot. Khrak stood up and paced. If only he could find the Jewels of Anniera. That would change everything. Gnag would let him do whatever he pleased.

  The old woman entered with a bowl of still-wriggling ratbadger tails on a brown, slimy bed of lettuce. The ratbadger tails were like living, hairy noodles, as fat as fingers. Khrak grabbed the bowl, held it to his face, and breathed in the rank aroma.

  “And your favorite sweat sauce, lord,” the woman said, her voice quavering slightly. That Khrak had let her go without injury was a sign that he was pleased with the meal.

  Khrak sat and slurped up his first ratbadger tail and sighed, slouching back in his chair again.

  Out of habit, his hand wandered to the medallion hanging around his neck. His newest piece of jewelry, courtesy of…who was it? Ah. Commander Gnorm, the fat one, a few days earlier. From Glipwood.

  Khrak dipped another tail in the sweat sauce and chewed on it thoughtfully while he toyed with the medallion. He looked at it closely for the first time, admiring the rubies that adorned its edges, caressing it with his scaly fingers. He gobbled another tail while he flipped the medallion over and examined the back—and choked.

  Khrak leapt from his chair and spat the ratbadger tail to the floor. He moved across the room to a lantern that burned in a sconce on the wall and held the medallion up to the light. There, engraved on the back of the medallion, was a dragon with wings.

  The Seal of Anniera.

  Could it be? he wondered, his mind whirling. In Glipwood? After all these years?

  General Khrak laughed for the second time that day.

  32

  The Making of a Maggotloaf

  As trouble escalated with the Fangs, Nia knew it was time to turn her attention to preparing Gnorm’s maggotloaf.

  She laid two slabs of henmeat on the compost pile, where bugs were sure to find them. When she checked on the meat the next day, it was putrid and sweating. She nodded to herself and tried to think of other repulsive ingredients.

  At dinner she announced that all members of the Igiby clan were to cut their fingernails and place them in a bowl by the kitchen door for the remainder of their lives, or until Gnorm was transferred to another town. Nugget sniffed out a firebug nest at the base of a tree, and Nia made a thick paste by mashing a bowlful of the bugs with a rock. She would never have admitted it, but she was enjoying trying to make a meal as disgusting as possible.

  Then it rained for two days. The rain kept the children inside and miserable, so they had no choice but to work on their T.H.A.G.S. for hours at a time. But Nia was glad for the rain because it bade worms from the ground. She had Tink and Janner collect bowls full of the crawlers and added them to the firebug paste.

  On the third day, the rain blew over and the sun shone hot again. Nia donned a pair of gloves, wrapped a scarf around her face, and gathered the spoiled henmeat from the compost pile. The meat was whitish, moist, and to Nia’s relief, teeming with maggots. She baked it all into a plump, moist loaf and garnished it with a dash of Nugget’s fur.

  Nia placed the oozing loaf on a platter, covered it with a rag, and she and the children set out down the lane for town. A foul odor trailed out behind them like a black cloud and summoned flies to follow. The children were to wait in Oskar’s bookstore while she delivered the loaf to Gnorm at the jail.

  “If, and only if, I discover that Slarb hasn’t returned, may you be permitted to stay at Oskar’s for the afternoon,” Nia said, holding the maggotloaf at arm’s length. “Whatever you do, stay clear of the Fangs. And stay together.”

  She looked at Janner, who nodded. He wouldn’t let Leeli or Tink out of his sight again, no matter what.

  They walked the rest of the way without speaking, the only sound the buzzing of flies that floated from beneath the cloth.

  Once in town, Janner herded Tink and Leeli into Books and Crannies, where they watched from the window. Zouzab dangled upside down, spider-like, from a rafter and peeked out as well. Boldly, Nia walked up the steps of the jail and with the slightest bow presented her sordid meal to Commander Gnorm.

  Janner, Tink, and Leeli shifted to see more clearly. Nia’s back was to them and all they could see was Gnorm sitting in his rocking chair, sharpening his dagger, his boots propped upon the porch railing. Nia stood before him for what felt like hours while the children and Zouzab watched in tense silence. Finally, she turned and walked away. She looked directly at the window of Books and Crannies and nodded with a tight smile. Janner, Tink, and Leeli sighed in unison with relief. They could see Gnorm gobbling away in a cloud of flies, his
face buried in the maggotloaf.

  “It would appear that your mother has pleased the Fang,” said Zouzab. He flipped up into the rafters, hopped over to a high shelf, and smiled down at the children. “Perhaps now you’ll visit more often?” he said, and without waiting for an answer, he disappeared.

  Janner felt a wave of relief wash over him. The nod from Nia meant that Slarb was gone. Life just might return to its normal slow pace, and to Janner’s surprise, he was glad. But he had questions—and many of them about the lanky fellow with the socks on his arms now rolling head over heels down the dusty street before them. Janner studied Peet like never before. Used to be Peet only came to mind when he was skipping through town with a stick in his mouth or juggling buckets by the cliffs. Now Janner couldn’t help watching for him and wondering about him.

  “Tell us about his tree house,” Janner said, staring after Peet.

  “And his smell,” Tink added.

  “And his books,” Janner said.

  Leeli looked annoyed at her brothers.

  Janner pulled her and Tink to the floor near the window, where they could hunker, watchful of Peet in the distance. Outside, Nugget wagged his tail and stared at the door, patiently waiting for Leeli.

  “Did he say anything the whole time you were with him?” Tink wanted to know between bites on a length of tumtaffy.

  “No, I already told you,” Leeli said. Her defensiveness about Peet reminded Janner of the way she was about Nugget before he learned not to lift his leg indoors. “When he got me up the rope ladder and into the tree house, he said I was safe. Other than that he just sat in the corner like he was afraid of me. I tried to talk to him but he just sat there, wrapping and unwrapping a piece of string around his wrist. He started rocking back and forth and humming something, and I think it was the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard. It made me sleepy, so I curled up against the wall. I guess I fell asleep. Like I said, the next thing I heard was an awful screeching sound.”

  “The quill diggle,” Tink said.

  “Yes, and that’s everything. I called to Grandpa when I saw him, then Peet carried me down. Grandpa doesn’t seem to like Peet very much, but he did tell him thanks. Then we got out of the forest as fast as we could.”

  “But what kind of books were they?” Janner pressed.

  Leeli huffed. “I couldn’t tell. They had leather covers with designs on them. There was an old chest in the corner and a pile of junk. I wasn’t there long before I fell asleep.” She smiled to herself. “And when I woke up he had put a blanket on me.”

  After a moment Tink whispered, “Do you think you could remember how to get to his tree house again?” Leeli looked at him like he was crazy. “Even if I could I wouldn’t tell you. Grandpa was on a horse, and he was still attacked by a blat and a diggle. What if he’d been attacked by a toothy cow? It’s miles into the forest. Don’t be silly.”

  “I didn’t say I was going out there,” Tink said, taking another bite of tumtaffy.

  “Well then, why did you ask?”

  Tink shrugged.

  Janner was quiet, staring in the direction of the forest.

  “What are you thinking about?” Leeli asked.

  Janner thought for a moment before he spoke. “That makes twice now that Peet has come to our rescue—first with the rocks in the alley, then with you in the forest. I think he’s looking out for us.”

  “You don’t know that it was Peet who threw those rocks,” Leeli said, glancing at the ceiling. She lowered her voice. “It could have been Zouzab. It could have been anyone.”

  Janner looked out the window to see Peet rolling around the corner at J. Bird’s barbershop. “All I’m saying is it’s a little strange.”

  “Leeli, how far away was that snapping diggle when Peet threw the rock at it?” Tink asked.

  “I don’t know, maybe…from here to…” Leeli squinted at the building across the street. “Here, to the jail.”

  “There’s something I haven’t told you,” Janner said, voice lowered. “The night we got out of jail I overheard Ma and Grandpa talking—talking like they knew who threw the stones, and they didn’t want us to know.”

  “Look.” Leeli pointed out the window at their grandfather making his way up Main Street.

  Podo stomped along at a steady pace with his arms swinging and a nasty scowl on his face. He stopped and looked up and down the street before turning up the narrow alley at J. Bird’s, the same alley where Peet had just gone.

  “What’s he doing?” Janner asked, as he peered above Tink and Leeli.

  A few moments later, Peet the Sock Man flew around the corner, weeping like a child and bleeding from his lip. He was running like a frightened animal, and Leeli’s heart broke for him.

  Podo reappeared at the corner and brushed himself off before marching back in the direction of the cottage.

  “What was that all about?” Janner wondered aloud. “Did Grandpa just hit him?”

  “I’m following him,” Tink said, looking in the direction that Peet had run.

  “No!” Leeli said.

  “I’m following Peet,” Tink repeated, wiping taffy-covered hands on the front of his shirt. “You can stay here if you like, but I want to know where he’s going.” Before anyone could stop him, Tink stepped away from the window, opened the front door, and started down the street.

  “Tink,” Janner yelled. “Tink!”

  But Tink kept walking.

  “Come on,” Janner growled. “We have to get him.”

  “What about Mister Reteep?” Leeli asked.

  Janner stopped. “Just wait here.” He shot down the aisle that he thought might lead to Oskar’s desk and came back a few minutes later, out of breath. “Let’s go. I just told him we finished and we were leaving. He didn’t even look up from his book.”

  “But—”

  “I know it’s ridiculous, but I can’t just let Tink go by himself. We have to stay together.” Janner handed Leeli the crutch and held the door for her. “Feel free to try to talk him out of it, but you know Tink. He’s following Peet, whether we come or not.”

  When they caught up with him, Tink was peeking around the corner of The Only Inn.

  “I thought you guys would never make it,” he said with a wink.

  “This isn’t a good idea,” Leeli said. “You know, Mama said—”

  “There he goes,” Tink whispered, looking over Leeli’s shoulder, and he was gone.

  Leeli watched Tink jog north, up Vibbly Way.

  Nugget whined, eager to run.

  With a sigh of resignation, Janner held out an arm to his sister. “After you.”

  33

  Bridges and Boughs

  Tink raced up the slow rise of the land, past the last houses of Glipwood, with Janner, Leeli, and Nugget just a few paces behind. Now and again Tink would catch a glimpse of Peet’s white hair dashing through a field, and he would speed up to keep the Sock Man in sight.

  Janner didn’t like how close they were getting to the forest. They weren’t as far from town as Anklejelly Manor, where the forest was older and wilder, but the trees here were thickening, and they made Janner nervous.

  After several minutes Tink stopped before a run-down house, roofless and charred, standing in a cluster of mossy oaks. Janner and Leeli caught up to him and the three of them stood, panting in the middle of the dusty road.

  “You see him?” Janner asked, hoping that they’d lost Peet.

  The three Igibys peered through the boughs that covered the way to the building.

  “We probably should turn back.” Janner nervously eyed the forest. “I think you’re forgetting our little incident with the you-know-whats at the you-know-where.”

  “What are you talking about?” Leeli asked.

  “At the manor?” Tink asked, scanning the yard for signs of the Sock Man. “Aw, this is nothing like that. Besides,” he looked at Janner, “if you’re so sure Peet’s looking out for us, we shouldn’t have anything to worry about,
right?”

  Leeli thumped her crutch on the ground. “What manor?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Janner said, and she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest.

  “Look!” Tink said. A short distance to their right, Peet was running through the trees behind the old house. But as suddenly as they had seen him, Peet disappeared.

  “Now how did he do that?” Tink wondered aloud.

  Silence, except for the songs of a few strange birds and an occasional growl from Tink’s stomach.

  “Let’s go,” Janner whispered, though he too was scanning the area for Peet. “There’s no telling where he went. Now come on.”

  Tink stared into the treetops, paying Janner no mind.

  “Fine, then,” Janner said. “Come on, Leeli. Let’s go home.”

  Leeli didn’t argue.

  Janner took her hand and they turned to go, hoping Tink would give up and follow once he saw they meant to leave. But within ten paces, Janner realized the threat of leaving Tink alone wasn’t working.

  Tink was still scanning the trees, still looking for Peet.

  “Tink, I’m serious,” Janner said.

  “Don’t be such a ninny,” Tink said over his shoulder, never taking his eyes from the trees. “I just want to see if I can figure out how he disappeared like that. He might have a tunnel or something. I’ll be right back.”

  And without a word, Tink was running. Again.

  “Tink, no!” Janner cried.

  Janner watched from the side of the old house as Tink tiptoed between the twisted roots and trunks of the trees. He turned and waved at Leeli with a wide grin as Janner shook his head and motioned him to come back. Tink moved toward the trees, closer to the forest’s edge.

  With a frustrated sigh, Leeli plopped down beside Nugget.

  Suddenly, Nugget tensed and raised his hackles. He looked at the woods and growled.

  “Oh no,” Janner moaned.

  Something was coming, and from the sound of it—something big.

  Janner and Leeli waved frantically, trying to get Tink’s attention without making any noise. Janner wanted to run and grab him but was afraid to leave Leeli alone.