On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness

by Andrew Peterson

  Then he stopped.

  He recognized something in the sound and felt the urge to laugh. Only Peet the Sock Man could make such a sad racket. Janner stepped back into the open.

  “Peet?” he called, still timid about making too much noise. “Peet!”

  The wailing stopped abruptly and Janner grinned. He heard a scrambling sound followed by the sudden appearance of a white plume of hair at the edge of the cellar.

  At the sight of Janner, Peet’s reddened, teary eyes grew wide with disbelief, then joy, laughter, and then disbelief again.

  A thunderous woof sounded, and Nugget’s giant head appeared next to Peet’s.

  “Igiby! Praise the Maker, it’s an Igiby!” Peet laughed and leapt down to the cellar. He wrapped his arms around the boy, lifted him up and spun him around.

  Janner noticed that Peet was wearing new knit socks on his arms. The two laughed together beneath the blue, blue sky.

  Peet put him down and held Janner’s shoulders, with foreheads nearly touching. “Leeliby? Tinkifeather? Are they safe? Safe?”

  Janner nodded eagerly.

  Nugget whined at the lip of the cellar, wanting to jump down but afraid of the drop. Janner held out a hand and told him to stay, worried that if Nugget did jump in, they would have a heap of a time getting him back out.

  “Come on,” Janner said, leading Peet down the tunnel.

  Janner opened wide the door to the chamber, and light fell on his family. They looked so peaceful he didn’t want to wake them. But when Peet’s eyes fell on Leeli and then Tink, he gasped with joy and said, “Heee!”

  All at once, Leeli, Tink, and Nia stretched and squinted and yawned, confused at what they were waking to. All they could see were the silhouettes of Janner and Peet in the doorway.

  “Janner?” Nia called. “Is that you? Are the Fangs…gone?”

  “All dead, dead, scooth and tail, tooth and scale,” said Peet.

  “Yes, Mama,” Janner said with a smile. “Tomorrow came.”

  “Grandpa?” Leeli said, scooting over to where he lay on the floor.

  Blood had soaked the cloth on Podo’s wound and gathered on the floor in a puddle around him. Nia held his face and spoke his name with a trembling voice. The old pirate’s breathing was shallow and watery. Hard as they tried, they couldn’t rouse him.

  Podo was going to die.

  46

  Water from the First Well

  The light had grown stronger in the weapon chamber, and a light breeze was moving the long cobwebs that dangled from the weapons and armor. The moaning of the wind continued, but in the daylight it had lost its ghostly tenor. The family stood or knelt around Podo, unsure of what to do. He had always been in charge, and they felt helpless without him barking orders at them. With a deep breath, Nia gracefully assumed that office.

  “Janner, Tink. Help me move him into better light. I need to see the color of his face.” Podo moaned as they dragged him closer to the door. Nia’s face was grave when she looked at her father.

  “Peet,” she said. “It’s time you told us what happened to Nugget.”

  Peet averted his eyes and fussed with the front of his shirt.

  “Peet,” Nia insisted. “My father will die, and I have a feeling you might be able to help him. I know you two have…history,” she said with a glance at Leeli, “but he needs you right now. We all do.”

  Peet nodded but wouldn’t look her in the eye.

  “How did you heal Nugget?” Nia asked. “I’ve read about similar things in the old books, but I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  Peet cast anxious glances at the door and shifted his weight from foot to foot, as if he wanted to run away. After a long moment, he spoke.

  “Water from the First Well.”

  Nia’s eyes widened. “What?” she whispered.

  “I healed the dugget nog—Nugget dog—with water…from the First Well.”

  “But—where did you, I mean—”

  “What’s the First Well?” Leeli asked. She was sitting beside Podo holding one of his big, gnarled hands in her tiny ones.

  “The First Well,” Nia said, still looking intently at Peet, “is, is…the first well in the world. The first well in Aerwiar. A gift from the Maker to Dwayne and Gladys.”1

  “The First Fellows?” Janner asked.

  “Yes. The old tales say that the water was poured into the mouth of the well by the Maker himself. It courses under the ground and is the lifeblood of Aerwiar. Without it, the trees would never blossom and the grass would never grow. All life would wear thin until it finally faded. The Maker gave us the well as a gift, and for long ages it was guarded and used to heal and to restore.”

  “It was lost?” Tink said.

  “Yes. It was lost. Long ago. Long before Anniera even had a name.” Nia regarded Peet. “Until now.”

  Peet was sniffling, great tears once again filling his tired eyes. “Years ago, before I came here, I found it.” Peet shuddered at some terrible memory. “I found the First Well, and I brought some of the water here. When I saw little Dugget nying—Nugget dying—I got some from my castle and gave him a drop to drink.” Peet flashed a grin at Leeli through his tears. “And it worked.”

  “Where is the water now?” Nia said with as much patience as she could muster. “Can you get some and bring it here?”

  Peet nodded, wiped his nose with one of his socks, and was gone.

  Janner looked down at his dear grandfather who had fought so hard for them, and he smiled at the thought of him growing three feet taller (and wider) with a sip from the ancient water. Podo was already the biggest soul he knew. But now, Janner thought, his grandfather seemed to be shrinking and his face had gone from pale to gray.

  “Please hurry, Peet,” Nia whispered, stroking her father’s face.

  Janner and Tink pulled Leeli from Podo’s side and helped her out of the tunnel to see her beloved dog. The Fangs who had perished in the tunnel were all but dust and armor now, and the children stepped easily past them.

  Nugget was lying with his snout dangling over the edge of the cellar. The sight of Leeli set him to barking, wagging his tail, and running as fast as he could in ground-shaking circles.

  Leeli giggled and clapped. She waved to her horse of a dog and complained that there was no way to get to him yet. But her spirits were lightened, and that made Janner’s heart glad.

  “I can’t believe we made it,” Tink said to himself. He squinted up at the sky much the same way Janner had, appreciating perhaps for the first time how wonderful a thing the sky was to see. “We should stay with Mama,” he said. “She shouldn’t be alone if Grandpa…”

  “You’re right. Come on, Leeli,” Janner said.

  “We’ll be back,” Leeli said to Nugget, who whined in answer.

  Nia looked small, all alone with Podo in the chamber. She had his head in her lap and was praying over him, rocking gently to and fro. She looked desperate.

  For all Janner could tell, Podo was dead already. The eldest Igiby felt his heart sag in his chest, heavy with sorrow and hardening with anger. He was angry at the Fangs for ever setting foot on Skree. He was angry at Zouzab for betraying them. He was even beginning to feel anger toward the Maker for creating a world where things like this could happen.

  Podo had fought bravely, tirelessly, to protect the ones he loved, for freedom and goodness, and here he lay dying.

  “Your father was a good man. A brave man. He fought well and died well in the Great War.”

  Janner could hear Podo saying that about their father, Esben, and now it was happening to the old warrior too. He had certainly fought well, and soon enough he would die well, though not in the Great War. And it was all for them, Janner thought, for his daughter and his three grandchildren, who had all lived to see the wide, blue sky that morning.

  Then Janner remembered the Jewels of Anniera. None of this would have happened if not for those cursed jewels that Gnag and all his minions were so bent on fin
ding. And none of this would have happened if Podo and Nia hadn’t been trying to keep them hidden. Janner felt his anger turning toward Podo and his mother for caring more about the Jewels of Anniera than he and his siblings. Why hadn’t they just given up the jewels? Were these jewels really worth the price of losing their home? worth dying for? Janner felt the tears rising in his throat, and he turned away so Tink wouldn’t see him cry.

  But Tink’s head was buried in his arm; he was leaning against the wall, muffled sobs coming from him in waves.

  It seemed a very long time that they waited while Podo rasped and Nia prayed and all three children shed tears for their grandfather.

  And then Janner heard a rustle.

  Peet the Sock Man appeared at the door to the chamber. With a socked hand outstretched, he offered a tiny leather flask.

  Leeli nudged Peet toward Nia, who held Podo’s head. Tink and Janner joined them, gathered around Podo as Peet removed the cap from the flask.

  Nia lifted Podo’s head and opened his mouth so that Peet could pour a bit of the water down. But Peet shook his head and instead pulled the makeshift bandage away, exposing the wound. It gaped deeper and worse than they had imagined, and Leeli covered her eyes.

  Peet poured a trickle of water over the wound, then nodded and recapped the container.

  “Are you sure that’s all he needs?” Nia searched Peet’s face. “He’s barely alive.”

  “I used a bit too much on Nugget, wouldn’t you say? We don’t need a giant Podo, do we?” Peet chuckled nervously. “I certainly don’t.” Seeing that no one laughed with him, Peet’s face straightened. “The water is strong. It can heal deeper wounds than this.” Peet looked down at his socked hands, and the old sorrow came back to his face. He sighed, wiping his hands on his tunic as if he could clean off the talons that were hidden beneath the knitting.

  “I’ll be outside,” he said. “I don’t want to be the thirst fing he sees when he rouses.”

  Peet left the room.

  “What I wouldn’t give for a pot of flabbit stew about now,” said a warm, gritty voice.

  Podo lay on the ground looking up into his daughter’s eyes and grinning. Overjoyed, the children rushed to him, careful not to jar his wound. Only a pinkish scar remained beneath the dried blood streaked by water from the First Well.

  Podo sat up and yawned as if he’d been napping in his favorite chair. He smiled at Janner, Tink, and Leeli with eyes that seemed younger than they ought to have been, and the Igibys wept and laughed and squeezed him as if he’d just returned from a long journey.

  After a long stretch, Podo rose and gathered his bundle. A boyish spring was in his step as he walked with his family through the iron door.

  They stepped over dusty piles and armor as Janner and Tink recounted the events of the long night: the burning of the manor, the howls of hounds and shrieks of Fangs, and about Peet’s water from the First Well.

  Nia listened proudly as her boys regaled the old pirate with a tale that would rival one of his own. Podo listened to it all with his eyebrows raising and lowering at each turn of the story.

  Leeli nestled under her grandfather’s arm while she limped along. Her face brightened as they reached the lip of the cellar wall.

  Peet was there, sitting on the edge of the cellar beside Nugget. Without speaking or looking at Podo, Peet threw down a rope. He hefted Podo up first, and then, with another of their silent, intense exchanges, Peet retreated and allowed Podo to pull into daylight the rest of his family.

  47

  Old Wounds

  Nugget yipped (a very loud, deep yip), and Leeli climbed onto his back again. Astride Nugget, she beamed like sunlight.

  The sky, however, was beginning to cloud, and in the east over the Dark Sea of Darkness, a black storm gathered. The tall grass of the plain rippled like water, and near its amber shore lay countless bodies of horned hounds. The beasts were scattered across the field and around Anklejelly Manor in clusters, most of them beside telltale piles of Fang armor, from which the lizards’ white, dusty remains were blowing away in the steady east wind.

  Near the forest Janner spied six dead toothy cows as big as Nugget, and around them was a dense cluster of Fang armor and weaponry. A mighty battle had been fought while the Igibys slumbered in the belly of the manor. Now only flies buzzed around the corpses as the sun beat higher and stronger.

  Podo sent Janner and Tink back down to the weapon room several times for swords, shields, and bows with healthy supplies of arrows. After rummaging through the piles of weapons, Tink and Janner both settled on the swords they had used the night before. With a last look at Oskar’s secret armory, they pulled the iron door shut and rattled the handle to be sure it was securely locked. The boys passed the weapons up to Podo and clambered up the rope.

  “Right, then,” Podo said. “We’ve a long way to go to the Ice Prairies. And it won’t be long before someone finds out about what happened here tonight. We’ll have all manner of beast after us, looking for the Jewels of Anniera, to be sure.”

  Janner bristled. He was tired of hearing about the jewels that had ruined their lives. Tired of not knowing what they were and why Gnag the Nameless wanted them so badly. Janner was sick of adults and their secrets, and though he was glad his grandfather was alive and glad they had made it through the night, he had a squall of resentment in his chest that was building into a storm—a storm he could hold in no longer.

  “You keep talking about these precious jewels! Everything that’s happened to us has been because of them, but no one will tell us where they are! We’ve lost our home, our friends—and we almost lost you, Grandpa—all because Gnag the Nameless wants these jewels. For some reason, you think these ‘precious jewels’ are more precious than we are, or you wouldn’t have them in the first place, would you? Why can’t we just take them and throw them into the Dark Sea so they’ll stop destroying everything around us? And now what are we doing? Now we’re running away, off to the Ice Prairies, wherever they are, and still you won’t tell us what’s going on!”

  Podo waited patiently for Janner to finish.

  Janner took another deep breath and blurted, “So what’s going on?”

  To his surprise, Podo wasn’t angry, and Nia was actually smiling.

  “Aye!” Tink added, crossing his arms. “What’s going on?”

  Now it was Podo who smiled. He looked at Nia and they laughed.

  Janner could make no sense of it, and neither Podo nor his mother tried to help.

  “We’ll tell you all about it tonight,” Podo said, turning toward the road, “once we find a safe place to rest.” The old man tossed the bundle over his shoulder and took a deep, glad breath of salty air. “Follow old Podo!” he then roared with gusto, and marched off in a southwesterly direction, away from the forest.

  “Papa,” Nia said.

  “Eh?” Podo said, stopping several paces away.

  “I think we should go to Peet’s tree house. He has food and—”

  “Food?” Tink said.

  Peet the Sock Man perked up and looked at Nia with a twinkle of hope in his eyes.

  “We ain’t goin’ there,” Podo said, his bushy eyebrows bunched together. “We’re heading to Torrboro then up the North Road until we find safe passage to the Ice Prairies.” He whipped his head around and set out again, but Nia didn’t move. Podo turned again, his face red. “Come on, I say!”

  “No.” Nia’s back straightened.

  “What?” Podo took a step back toward his daughter.

  “I said no.” Nia took a step forward. “You’ve held on to your anger long enough, Papa, and now that anger is becoming a burden you no longer bear alone. It’s causing us to suffer with you—you stubborn old fool.”

  Podo was dumbfounded.

  “Peet saved all of our lives,” Nia said, “yours most recently. You may feel fine now, but not half an hour ago death was lapping at your toes. And do you know who you should be thanking for the breath in your lungs?�
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  Peet was backing away sheepishly, but Nia grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. “This man,” she said. “He’s got provisions and shelter in the forest, where no Fang will want to venture for a long time after what happened here. Now I love you, Papa, but I’m the mother of these children, and I’ve a mind to put food in their bellies and pillows under their heads. We’re going to Peet’s tree house and that’s final.”

  Combined looks of bewilderment, embarrassment, and anger flashed over Podo’s face. Janner wanted to laugh. Podo sputtered and formed the beginnings of words with his mouth but came up with nothing to say.

  “Peet, lead the way,” Nia said.

  Peet obeyed Nia’s order with wide eyes and a nervous smile, marching off in the direction opposite Podo’s. Nia and the boys followed.

  Leeli rode Nugget to where Podo stood, alone and dumbfounded. She sidled up beside him, leaned over and kissed him on his whiskery cheek. Nugget followed suit, dragging a sloppy pink tongue up Podo’s arm, soaking his shirt. Then they, too, turned away from Podo and followed Peet, moving north and west, in the direction of the forest.

  Podo eyed the smoking remains of Anklejelly Manor.

  “Hrmph,” he said finally, trudging after his family.

  48

  Shelter

  The gray sky had become a river of churning, low-flying clouds that sped along so heavy and close it seemed they scraped the treetops. The Igibys, a giant dog, and Peet the Sock Man walked along the forest border for an hour.

  Janner kept a careful eye on the trees to their right, but Peet showed no sign of worry. He strolled along without speaking, his white hair whipping about in the strong wind. Janner took comfort in the odd man’s confidence. He had proven himself a good friend and a capable fighter.

  Behind them, another white-haired man walked in silence.

  Podo hadn’t said a word since they’d set out for Peet’s tree house, but his eyes showed that his spirit had lightened. He didn’t look so angry anymore, and he appeared to be considering some matter that required careful thought.