On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness

by Andrew Peterson

  “Nemember little rugget,” he said, wincing and looking at the dog with confusion.

  “We have to go,” Janner said.

  “Yes, you do,” said Peet, plopping back down. “And don’t come back. I’m so sad to say it, but don’t come back.” He touched his swollen lip. “You mustn’t come back.” His head drooped. “Good-bye, Wingiby Igifeathers.”

  Peet carried Leeli across the high limb and placed her gently on the bridge while the boys followed. After they crossed the second bridge, Janner turned to wave good-bye. Peet was back in his castle, watching them from the window. Janner couldn’t be sure, but it looked like Peet was crying.

  Janner didn’t speak the whole way back. Several times Tink asked him what he’d seen in the book, but Janner didn’t answer. The Igiby children wound their long way over the bridges until the trees began to thin out again.

  The only sound was Nugget whimpering as the little dog scrambled across the bridges, more afraid of falling than of a whole gobble of toothy cows. Janner marveled as Tink tried to reassure Nugget that heights were nothing to fear.

  Halfway back Janner and Tink heard familiar, chilling howls that made them and Leeli freeze in their tracks. Several dark shapes emerged from the tangle of brush below them.

  From their perch on the tree bridge, the Igibys watched silently as a pack of horned hounds passed through the trees below like a gray fog. When the hounds had gone, the leaves on the forest floor directly beneath the bridge rustled, then the ground bulged like a pot of boiling cheesy chowder. Out from its burrow popped a warty, brown digtoad as big as a goat.2 At the same time, to Leeli’s horror and her brothers’ fascination, an oblivious fazzle dove lighted on the ground not far away, pecking at worms in the dirt. Without warning, the digtoad’s tongue shot out and sklotched the bird into its mouth, leaving a cloud of gray feathers floating in the air where the bird had been.

  Leeli squeaked and covered her mouth. The digtoad turned up its black, bulbous eyes and regarded the children for a long, terrible moment. Finally it let out a blatting croak and half-walked, half-hopped away. Just as the sound of the digtoad’s departure faded, a smaller creature with black, matted hair skittered into the area.

  “A ratbadger,” Janner whispered to Tink and Leeli.

  The ratbadger twitched its large, pointy ears and sniffed around the forest floor until it found the digtoad’s hidden burrow, where it slunk inside without a sound. A moment later, the large rodent appeared with a yellowish egg held carefully in its mouth.3 With what Janner could only assume was an angry croak, the digtoad returned, its tongue darting out as it pursued the fleeing ratbadger.

  In seconds, the forest was quiet again. Janner marveled at the way the forest could hide things. It could seem so innocent and harmless, even beautiful, while beneath its surface prowled such ruthless, deadly creatures. Why was so much in Janner’s world not what it seemed? He thought about his mother, about Oskar, then about Peet the Sock Man. They all had secrets.

  “It was a journal,” Janner said, breaking the silence.

  “And?” Tink said.

  Janner looked at Tink and Leeli. “On the front was a picture.” Janner looked intently at Tink. “A picture that we’ve seen before.”

  “What was it?”

  “A dragon, with wings.”

  Tink’s eyes widened. “The same as the Annieran journal? The one we found at Oskar’s?”

  Janner nodded. “And there were lots of them in the tree house. At least twenty! How would Peet have gotten his hands on Annieran journals?”

  “Maybe they’re his,” Leeli said.

  “I don’t think so. The first page said, ‘This is the journal of Artham P. Wingfeather, Throne Warden of Anniera.’”

  Tink frowned. “What’s a Throne Warden?”

  “I don’t really know.” Janner shrugged. “I haven’t read much about Anniera or its history. Oskar doesn’t have many books on the subject.”

  “Sounds important,” Tink said, looking east through the dark foliage of the forest.

  “Anniera.” Janner repeated the name to himself. The word felt good on his lips, like laughter or a pretty song. Standing in the middle of the swaying bridge, he suddenly was lost in thoughts of faraway green lands, of dragons with wings, and of their mysterious sock-handed new friend. Neither Tink or Leeli said anything, but Janner knew they were thinking of Anniera too.

  Their thoughts were interrupted by the clicking chatter of a cave blat lumbering across the forest floor below them.

  Without another word the Igibys made their way back to the edge of the forest.

  Janner paused to be sure no toothy cow, cave blat, quill diggle, horned hound, or other manner of beast was prowling, then scooped up Nugget to carry him down the rope ladder. At the bottom, he set the grateful dog on the forest floor and waited for Leeli. Tink came last, with Leeli’s crutch under his arm. With one last look at the swaying bridge high above them, they made for town as fast as they could.

  But back in Glipwood, breathless, Janner was struck with some sense that something was wrong. The streets were empty. A hot wind blew and licked up dust and leaves. Where Commander Gnorm usually lazed on the front steps of the jail, there was now an empty rocker, creaking ominously in the wind.

  Janner turned northeast, and his stomach knotted and dread seeped into his bones.

  A plume of angry smoke billowed from the trees in the direction of the Igiby cottage.

  35

  Fire and Fangs

  Tink!” Janner pointed toward home, and Tink squinted into the distance and moaned.

  Leeli was already hopping along the lane, her blond curls whipping in the wind. Nugget let out a series of desperate barks and tore ahead, up the lane to the Igiby cottage.

  Without a word, Janner and Tink ran. Janner’s mind raced faster than his feet, picturing a thousand nightmarish things the Fangs could be doing to his mother and grandfather. Was the maggotloaf not vile enough for Gnorm’s taste? Had Slarb returned? At the edges of his fears lurked the possibility that the Black Carriage had come and stopped at the Igiby cottage, where Podo certainly would not have gone quietly.

  Soon Janner could think of nothing but the stitch in his side and the air he couldn’t catch. He was at Tink’s heels, grunting with every desperate breath. The smoke they’d seen from town filled their noses.

  The boys sped up the hill and through the trees to find the barn behind the cottage a swirling storm of fire. Janner felt the heat from it on his face even before he passed the fence gate. Through the gray air he saw a whole company of Glipwood Fangs slithering about, some with torches, others with swords drawn. A cluster of them were bent over something, jabbing at it with the butts of their spears, and Janner saw with horror that it was Podo. The old man wasn’t moving. Janner heard a roar and turned in time to see Tink rush straight for the Fangs that were standing over Podo.

  “Tink, NO!” Janner cried.

  Tink flew into the huddle of Fangs as the air split with the sound of Leeli’s screams. A Fang had materialized from the smoke and seized her from behind. All around Janner raged smoke and screams, fire and Fangs. Podo was bleeding and unconscious, and Leeli was being dragged by the arm to where Commander Gnorm was standing, overseeing the chaos with a smug look on his face.

  Nugget leapt at Gnorm’s leg, and Janner watched helplessly as the little dog was run through by a spear. Nugget yelped and went limp while the Fang who stabbed him put a foot to his flank to jerk out the spear. Nugget lay still, bleeding from his side.

  Janner prayed that in the smoke and confusion Leeli didn’t see it happen. But he felt sick, and for a moment he considered running, though he didn’t know where he would go. He could go to Oskar or Peet the Sock Man, but he couldn’t think how either could help his family.

  Just then two Fangs appeared from the rear of the house, dragging Nia, her hands bound. Janner felt a wave of relief amid the panic—at least we‘re all still alive.

  His eyes met Nia’s
through the haze of smoke. She pursed her lips and shook her head, indicating that he wasn’t to fight or flee. It was too late anyway—Janner had been spotted.

  Three Fangs, swords drawn, were marching his way. Not taking his eyes off his mother, he held up his hands and let himself be taken.

  The Fangs herded the Igibys to the grass, where they were lined up, kneeling with their hands tied behind their backs. The barn had been burned to the ground and a pall hung in the air, stinging their eyes. Podo was delirious from a head wound, but he was conscious enough to curse and taunt the Fangs that surrounded them.

  “Ye’d better tie ol’ Podo better than that if ye want to save yer rotten snakeskins,” he slurred, his white hair matted with blood.

  “Papa, hush,” Nia said through clenched teeth, glaring at Gnorm.

  Tink huffed and glowered at the Fangs. Leeli was still and silent, staring at the heap of black fur on the ground behind Gnorm. Nugget hadn’t moved. Janner wondered bitterly what had brought this upon them. Ever since the Dragon Day Festival their lives had been turned upside down.

  “Was my maggotloaf not satisfactory, Commander?” Nia asked in a calm, strong voice.

  Gnorm smiled his hideous smile and scratched his jowls. “To the contrary,” he said, taking a step closer, “that maggotloaf is all that’s keeping you alive.” Gnorm waved his hand in Nia’s face, flaunting the gold rings and bracelet she had given him in exchange for her children’s freedom. “I was willing to overlook the fact that you had hidden these jewels from Gnag the Nameless because you swore that you had no more hidden away. That, and the promise of the maggotloaf, of course.” He burped and a fly buzzed out of his mouth. “But I just received an interesting message from General Khrak in Torrboro.”

  Gnorm unsheathed his long dagger and toyed with it while he spoke. “You see, there is a treasure that the Nameless One has sought all these years, a treasure beyond imagination. And General Khrak, my superior, has just sent a message saying that he believes you know where it is. He’s waiting for us at Fort Lamendron. Now I’ve been wondering to myself, ‘Why would that Igiby woman lie to me when she knows I could eat all three of her scrawny children?’ Hmm? Why would you do that?” Gnorm leaned over, his whitish belly dangling over his belt. He held Nia’s face in a scaly hand. With his snout just inches from Nia’s unflinching gaze, he hissed, “Where are the Jewelsss of Anniera?”

  The Jewels of Anniera? Janner stole a glance at Tink. Maybe their mother didn’t know anything, but he and Tink knew about the weapons at Anklejelly Manor. The map had said something about the Jewels of Anniera. Whatever these mysterious jewels were, they must have something to do with the weapon room. But what was so special about these jewels that Gnag the Nameless himself would go to such trouble to find them?

  Nia jerked her head from Gnorm’s grip and stared back at him defiantly. “I swear to you, I gave you all the gold and jewels I had,” she said, her voice level and cold.

  Gnorm considered her a moment. “So. You’re going to make this difficult, are you?” He slapped Nia with the back of his hand, knocking her down.

  Podo lunged forward, straining at the ropes that bound his hands, cursing Gnorm with all the breath in his lungs.

  Nia managed to get back to her knees while Gnorm smirked at Podo, then sheathed the dagger with a snap. “Fangs,” he ordered, “search the house!”

  Greedily, the Fangs disappeared into the Igiby cottage, tearing apart whatever they could lay their hands on.

  Janner winced at the sounds of glass and furniture breaking. He could see the Fangs moving about inside their cottage, laughing their snarling laughs as they drooled venom, flipped over chairs, kicked through cabinets, dumped out bureau drawers, and tore open cushions. Nia, bleeding from the corner of her mouth, stared coolly at Gnorm until at last the Fangs issued from the house, empty handed.

  “Nothin’ in there, sir,” said one.

  Gnorm met Nia’s gaze. “Bring them.”

  The Fangs forced the Igibys to their feet, all but Leeli, who was thrown over one Fang’s shoulder, just as Slarb had done.

  Janner suddenly felt as tired as he’d ever been. His feet dragged as he walked behind his grandfather, who only a few days earlier had looked like a warrior on the back of Danny the carthorse. Now Podo was hobbling along, bent like the old man that he was. Tink said nothing, but scowled with hatred. Janner’s heart felt heavy with dread. Just days ago, when he and his brother and sister were in the jail, their only salvation had been Nugget, Nia, and Podo, and the gold that Nia had hidden away. Now the gold was gone, Nugget was gone, and Podo and Nia were to be locked away with them. This time there would be no stopping the Black Carriage. It would creep into town on its dark errand, and they would be fed into its maw, taken away to meet whatever grisly fate Gnag the Nameless devised for them.

  Yet Nia’s strength still emanated from her like a candle in a dark room. Janner noticed that she was steady and graceful, and even with blood dried at the corner of her mouth and hair askew, she was beautiful.

  Questions, more questions, niggled at him. Why would my mother have a treasure that Gnag sought? Janner didn’t think that was a possibility. Surely there was some mistake, and as Igiby luck would have it, that mistake had led Gnorm to them.

  The day seemed hotter than ever as the Igibys were led, like participants in some grim parade through Glipwood to the town jail. No one walked the streets. The doors were closed and the windows shuttered. The Igibys were thrown into one cell, and the barred door clanged shut. Podo whipped his white hair out of his eyes and glared at the commander.

  “Gnorm!” he bellowed. “I’ll skin you like a snake if you touch my family! I’ll tear you apart with my teeth if I have to!” He strained at his bonds, growled, and threw himself at the cell door as a chorus of laughter erupted from the Fangs who filed back into the front room of the jail.

  Commander Gnorm looked in from the doorway and bared all his yellow teeth in a wide smile. “The Black Carriage will be here sssoon, so you’d better get to it, old man,” Gnorm said with a chuckle, and he closed the door.

  Nia knelt beside Leeli and whispered her name. Leeli still hadn’t spoken. Podo paced back and forth, twisting at his bonds with no result. Tink, however, let out a satisfied grunt and held his hands out in front of him. His wrists were chaffed and sore, but the rope that once bound them dropped to the ground.

  “I’ve been working at them,” he said as he untied Podo.

  “Good work, lad,” Podo said.

  In moments, Tink had everyone’s hands free.

  Leeli buried her head into her mother, nestled in Nia’s arms.

  “Ma,” Janner asked, “what’s all this about a treasure? about jewels? Do you know what Gnorm’s talking about?”

  Nia and Podo stared at one another in silence. Flies buzzed around their tired faces.

  “As I told the Fang,” Nia said after a moment, looking back at Janner, “I gave them all the gold and jewelry I had. There’s nothing more hidden in that house.” She changed her tone abruptly. “Now. There are more important things to worry about.”

  “Aye,” Podo said. “Like how we’re gonna get out of here. The way I see it, there’s nothin’ we can do until they try to move us to the”—he shuddered—“the Carriage.” He tugged at the cell door. “We’ll just have to wait here and pray to the Maker that we’ll get the chance we need.” He sat down beside Nia and Leeli and stroked his granddaughter’s hair with his big, callused hand. “It’s all right there, lass.”

  Tink and Janner slid to the floor, and the Igiby family waited.

  36

  Shadowed Steed and Shadowed Tack and Shadowed Driver Driving

  The sun melted over Glipwood, and the cell began to fill with shadows. Janner woke with a start. He looked around the cell with a surge of disappointment when he realized that their situation wasn’t part of another bad dream. He thought about the cottage, his bed, the chair by the hearth where Podo always napped.

 
Podo was awake with Nia’s and Leeli’s heads resting on him, asleep. Tink was curled up in the corner, facing the wall. Janner couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or not. The flies had mercifully dissipated, and now the musty cell had the restless peace of the calm before a storm.

  “Janner,” Podo said. His eyes twinkled in the dim light.

  Janner looked at his grandfather and forced a smile.

  “Yer Podo’s been in tighter sticks than this one. We’ll make it out, no fear.”

  Something in the seriousness of Podo’s voice told Janner that the old pirate was trying to convince himself, and Janner suddenly felt a deep sadness. He was sad that he’d never again see the green garden or the wide, lonesome ocean beneath the cliffs or laugh in the lamplight of a warm meal with his family. He could feel his hope fleeing, and it was the Black Carriage that chased it away.

  “Grandpa, what do the Fangs want? Why would they think we know anything about a treasure?”

  Podo lowered his eyes.

  “Son, the Fangs don’t need much reason to terrorize us. Whether there’s a treasure or not, it seems as though fate’s bent on ruinin’ us. Curse fate, I say. We’ve made it this far, ain’t we?” Podo’s spirit burned brighter the more he spoke. “They can throw us in the jail, they can tear the house to pieces. They can even try to take my wee Leeli here. But as long as old Podo’s got breath in his lungs and a beat in his heart, there’s no fate, no Fang, no Gnag himself what can tear up this family.”

  Janner looked away and shook his head.

  “Look at me, boy!” Podo said. “When it comes time to fight, you fight. Even if those Fangs tear us to pieces, we’ll meet the Maker knowin’ we fought hard for somethin’ good. So don’t you shake your head like you’re givin’ up.”

  Janner’s cheeks burned at the rebuke. Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about being locked in that black cage, carried off to some grisly, unstoppable death. He was angry that the only life he’d ever known was one with Fangs and Black Carriages and a fear so deep and daily that it swallowed his joy.