“I need to warn the Goodnuffs,” she called. She looked toward the little house with smoke curling from its chimney.
“No time!” Riph Raph shouted, nearly hitting her with his wings as he flew about her head. “It’s almost here. Besides, Master Therapass said it’s you who’s in danger.”
Kyja gave one last glance toward the house before yanking at Chance’s reins. Turning him toward the field, she jabbed his flanks with her heels. “Be off!” she shouted, and the big stallion sprang to life so quickly it was all Kyja could do to hang on.
Green stalks of corn passed in a blur as Kyja and Chance raced toward the creek. Over the clatter of the horse’s hooves, Kyja heard the sound of the farm animals mooing, crowing, honking, and squawking. Then the animal noises were drowned out by a roar that threatened to burst her eardrums.
Clinging tightly to the reins, she glanced over her shoulder. What she saw there was so incredible she couldn’t look away. Despite her fear, she yanked back on Chance’s reins, and the big horse skidded to a halt, kicking up clods of dirt. The billowing cloud of dust had reached the entrance to the Goodnuffs’ farm. Floating just above the road, like a giant hand poised to smash an insect, the dust cloud turned and raced up the gravel drive that led to the Goodnuffs’ house.
In a patch of clover-filled meadow, midway between the barn and the house, the roaring stopped as quickly as it had started. Clenching her fists, Kyja watched as the cloud drifted slowly to the ground. She squinted her eyes, expecting something truly awful to appear. But when the dust cleared away, there was nothing to see. The ground where the cloud had been had a slightly bumpy look to it, but it was empty.
Relief flooded through her body. Maybe it was a false alarm. Maybe whatever had caused the cloud realized she was gone and changed its mind. If she returned to the farm she might be able to—
Without any warning, the meadow exploded. The ground jumped and swayed beneath Chance’s hooves as dirt, rocks, and wood flew into the air. As the debris fell back to the ground Kyja felt sure her eyes must be playing some kind of trick on her. The meadow, the barn, the house; all of it was gone—reduced to a pile of splintered boards and broken stone.
“No,” she gasped. At this time of the morning Mr. Goodnuff would have returned to the house from his morning chores. Mrs. Goodnuff would be in the kitchen serving breakfast to her husband and little . . .“Timton,” she whispered, feeling her head begin to grow light.
As Kyja watched, three black snakes as big around as tree trunks and nearly twenty feet long slithered out of the ground and wrapped themselves into tight coils. In the blink of an eye, where the three snakes had been, three men appeared, their heads covered in dark cowls.
Before Kyja could see anything more, Chance turned and galloped into a grove of trees. With a burst of speed, the old warhorse leapt up and over the creek. Hot tears dripping down her cheeks, Kyja pressed her face against the horse’s mane and held tight.
Chapter 15
The Golden Rope
Maybe they weren’t in the house at all. Maybe . . .” Kyja’s words dried up as her throat tightened. She stood trembling beside Chance, whose heaving flanks were covered in sweat.
In the small willow tree where he perched, Riph Raph looked away, his bright yellow eyes damp.
“Why would they kill the Goodnuffs?” Kyja cried, rubbing her cheeks furiously with the palms of her hands. “They weren’t even looking for them. They were looking for me.”
Riph Raph anxiously twitched his tail back and forth. “They were . . . that is . . . I don’t know.”
Kyja felt her legs wobble and had to grab Chance’s saddle for support. She’d been riding all-out for the last half hour, sure that any minute the black snakes would rise up from the ground and swallow her whole. Even now, she fearfully scanned the open terrain around her for any sign of a dust cloud.
“Do you think they’re following us?”
“I don’t see any sign of them.” Riph Raph shivered. “If they were, I don’t think we’d be here.”
Kyja walked to a nearby stream and bathed her face with handfuls of cold water. Had Master Therapass known about the huge snake things? Why hadn’t he given her more warning? Maybe he thought the very idea would have frightened her so badly she
wouldn’t be able to leave the tower.
If so, he was right. After thirty minutes of hard riding, the town of Terra ne Staric had shrunk in the distance. But the tower rose clearly above the horizon like a giant sewing needle. Looking at it, she desperately wished she was high within its protection.
Riph Raph flapped down from the tree branch and landed beside the stream. A handful of tiny green and red flickets, drawn by the ripples from Kyja’s fingertips had leapt from the water and were circling Kyja’s head, flittering about on nearly transparent wings. Riph Raph snatched two of them out of the air with his beak as the rest dove back into the cover of the water.
“How can you eat at a time like this?” Kyja demanded.
“Sorry,” the skyte said, crunching them between his teeth. “I was hungry.”
“Why do you think Master Therapass didn’t have us stay in the tower?” Kyja asked, trying to ignore the disgusting bits of fish stuck between the skyte’s teeth.
Riph Raph scratched his tail with his right talon. “Maybe he didn’t know what form the danger would take.”
Kyja hadn’t thought of that. She’d just assumed if the wizard knew Kyja was being pursued, he’d also know what was pursuing her. And if he didn’t know about the snakes, what else might he not know about? All at once she felt incredibly alone and vulnerable. Why not head back into town? If the snakes had learned she was no longer in Terra ne Staric, they’d go looking for her elsewhere. Master Therapass had said so himself.
But he’d also said to keep riding until he caught up with her. She wasn’t sure how long that would be, or even how he’d know where to look. But the wizard had been right about the danger, so she supposed she’d trust his advice on this as well.
Looking at her reflection in the rippling brook made her think about the aptura discerna again. What did the boy she’d seen in the window have to do with her? And why did his danger mean she was in danger also? The only link she could see between the two of them was the mark on the boy’s shoulder and the necklace Master Therapass had given her when she was a little girl.
She slipped the amulet out from her robe and studied the image carved into it. She’d always found it both repulsive and compelling at the same time. What were the beasts supposed to be, and why were they fighting with one another? She’d been grateful that Master Therapass thought enough of her to give her such an expensive-looking heirloom. But until today she’d never questioned why he gave her this specific piece of jewelry.
“Those snake-men were looking for me,” she said. “Do you think the man who came after the boy in the aptura discerna was one of them too?”
Riph Raph cocked his head. “Master Therapass said there was nothing you could do for the boy, so there’s no point in worrying about it.”
“I know.” She rubbed the tip of her thumb across the amulet. But she couldn’t stop thinking about him. If the man she’d seen was one of the snake creatures, the boy didn’t stand a chance. So why show her something she could do nothing about? Master Therapass had said that the aptura discerna might help her discover the magic inside her. Did that mean the boy had something to do with her magic?
Staring into the water, she tried to recall the boy’s face. His hair had been reddish-brown and messy, as if he hadn’t had it cut in months. His body looked thin and weak, but his eyes seemed filled with an inner strength. Master Therapass said that the aptura discerna was only an eye that could see into Kyja’s soul. Was it possible she could find the boy on her own?
Closing her eyes, she tried to pull up the images she’d seen in the window just before the boy had appeared: Riph Raph young and helpless. Char and her children catching fish. Bella kissing Singale. They were all
people she had helped. Had she somehow helped the boy, too? Or was she supposed to help him?
Without warning, she suddenly saw the boy again in her mind. He was still in his silver cart, only he was no longer inside the strange room. He was outside, and it was night. Something was wrong. The boy looked terrified. His mouth was open as if he were screaming.
The view shifted, and Kyja’s skin went cold. Glittering in the moonlight was the black-scaled head of a snake. Its teeth gleamed wickedly. No! Kyja screamed in her head. The boy turned in her direction for a second as if he’d heard her. Then he reached for something in his pocket. Whatever it was, Kyja knew it wouldn’t be enough. The boy was going to die unless someone helped him. The only one who could help him was Kyja, but she didn’t know how.
I won’t let you die, she screamed silently. I won’t!
Concentrating with all her might, she tried to reach out to the boy. In her hand, the amulet burned as an image appeared in her head. It was a long, golden rope hanging just above the boy’s head. She had no idea what the rope meant or how to use it, but there was no time to worry about that now. As the snake struck, she mentally pulled on the rope as hard as she could.
Chapter 16
An Elastic Escape
A million different thoughts raced through Marcus’s head as the giant black snake lunged toward him, but none of them would help him escape. There was no time to run. No time to try his disappearing trick. He heard his voice screaming as though he were outside his head, but no one was close enough to help.
Then, impossible as it seemed, someone was there. A girl was standing beside him—a girl with long, dark hair and a green robe. As the snake’s head came forward, the girl cried out, “No!”
Marcus dodged to the side, and the girl’s sudden appearance seemed to throw off the snake’s aim just enough that its scaly head missed Marcus’s neck by inches. He could feel the snake’s hot breath. Something dripped from its mouth onto the back of his arm. Instantly his skin began to burn as drops of clear liquid bubbled and hissed. He wiped his arm against the front of his shirt, watching with horror as the liquid ate through the fabric.
He looked for the girl, but she was gone. It must have been his imagination.
And yet the snake seemed to be looking for the girl as well. Its yellow eyes darted left and right as its head weaved through the
night air. “A very good illusion. A much better trick than I would have thought you capable of. You are full of surprises,” the snake hissed, venom dripping from its fangs in tiny, sizzling drops. “But they won’t save you.”
Marcus had no idea what the snake was talking about. He’d had nothing to do with the girl. But if the snake thought he did . . . ?
“I can do it again,” he said. “But this time it won’t just be a girl. It’ll be a . . . a monster.”
For a moment the snake seemed to take his threat seriously. Then its eyes narrowed as it shook its diamond-shaped head. “You’re bluffing. Enough of these games. It’s time for you to die.”
Marcus searched the wooded ground for some kind of weapon—a stick or anything he could use to defend himself.
Opening its mouth wide, the snake coiled itself and prepared to launch again.
Marcus’s right hand went to his pants pocket and he felt something there. Without the time to even think about what it was, he pulled the item from his pocket and held it up before him as the snake struck.
This time the snake didn’t miss.
The item Marcus held in his hands was ripped from his fingers as the snake’s head connected solidly with his chest. The strike was so hard Marcus was knocked against the seat of his wheelchair and rolled backward five or six feet. And yet the snake’s fangs didn’t pierce him.
As the snake recoiled, Marcus looked up. Only a few feet away, the snake was swinging its broad, flat head wildly back and forth and struggling to snap its jaws. It was close enough to kill Marcus with one bite, only it couldn’t see what it was doing because its head was trapped inside Marcus’s extra pair of underwear.
For a moment, Marcus could only sit frozen in place, transfixed by the sight of the frustrated snake. It was so ridiculous he would have burst out laughing if he hadn’t been so terrified. The beast shook its head and gnashed its teeth, but the elastic of his Fruit of the Looms stretched out and back with every movement of the snake’s head.
Realizing he only had seconds until the snake managed to free itself, Marcus grabbed the wheels of his chair and raced toward the school. Behind him, he heard a ripping sound, and a moment later a hiss of rage and the slithering of scales on dirt.
As Marcus reached the edge of the trees and broke out onto open grass, he glanced backward. The snake was less than ten feet behind and gaining. Its long, black body slithered through the trees in blindingly quick undulations. At the edge of the grass, it coiled and launched itself into the air toward him.
Marcus ducked his head. Wheeling his chair with every ounce of strength he had, he squeezed his eyes shut against the strike that he knew would not miss this time. Suddenly his shoulder burned white hot, and an overpowering force rocked him forward. He tried to hang on to the arms of his chair, but his body was spinning. His stomach felt as if it were being turned inside out.
He braced himself to hit the ground. Instead, he landed in something wet and very cold. His eyes flew open, and everything was wrong. Instead of night, the sun was up. Instead of lying on the sandy grass of an Arizona ball field, he was lying half in lush, green grass, and half in an icy creek.
He turned around, looking for the snake that was about to kill him, and found himself staring into the face of a big-eyed, blue lizard. The lizard shook its scaly head, wiggling a pair of pointy ears and spoke. “Who are you?”
Scrambling deeper into the water, Marcus saw the girl he’d dreamed about. Her eyes were wide, green circles against her pale skin, and her mouth hung open with a look of terrified surprise that must have matched his. Behind the girl, a large, gray horse winked and said, “What’s the difference between a duck and a boy?”
Marcus fainted.
Chapter 17
Poison Polly
The first thing Marcus noticed when he awoke was the smell. The air was a perfume of new grass, fertile soil, fresh water, and incredibly fragrant blossoms. He’d never smelled anything like it before, and he sucked it greedily into his lungs. The second thing was the quiet—no cars, airplanes, or shouting boys, just the burbling of running water and the chirping of birds somewhere nearby.
His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked against the bright sun overhead. For a moment his vision refused to adjust to the brilliant light. He sat up, and his stomach leaped as he took in his surroundings. The memories came rushing back.
“He’s awake,” the lizard-like thing whispered to the dark-haired girl. She nodded, watching Marcus warily from a few feet away.
Marcus lurched backwards, reached for his wheelchair, and nearly fell into a small brook.
“I waded into the water to pull you out once,” the girl said. “If you fall in again, you’re on your own.”
Marcus looked around anxiously. Where was he? This was definitely not Arizona. He was lying in the middle of a field of tall, green grass that danced to and fro in the breeze. A few feet away, a strange-looking tree dropped fuzzy pink leaves to the ground. His wheelchair was nowhere in sight. Where was the snake that had been chasing him?
His first thought was that the snake had killed him. “I’m dead, aren’t I?” he asked, rubbing his hand across his face.
“What kind of a question is that?” The lizard snorted, and a ball of what looked like blue fire came out of its nostrils. “And why are his clothes so strange?”
“Don’t be rude,” the girl told the lizard. She smiled hesitantly at Marcus. “You’re not dead. But I think you would have been if I hadn’t rescued you.”
Marcus checked himself for bruises or broken bones. He didn’t feel dead.
“I don’t trust him
,” the lizard said. “I think he might be crazy.”
“Riph Raph!” The girl swatted the lizard on the back of the head, and it rose up into the air. Shocked, Marcus realized the lizard had tiny little wings. It flew a few feet away and, with an offended glare, landed on the branch of the pink-leafed tree.
Everything looked so strange and yet so familiar at the same time. “Where am I?” he asked the girl.
She gave him an odd look. “A little north of Terra ne Staric.”
“Terra ne-what?” He rubbed his head and wondered if he had passed out.
“In Westland.”
“Westland?” Suddenly he realized why everything looked so familiar. “Farworld,” he whispered, not even aware he was speaking.
“Of course.” She nodded with an odd smile.
“That’s impossible.” He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “I’m dreaming. This is Farworld, and you’re the girl I imagine sometimes.” Of course it was a dream, but his dreams had never been this real before.
“I don’t know what you’ve imagined,” the girl said, her cheeks coloring. “But you’re not dreaming. I think I brought you here somehow.”
As if to confirm this was indeed a dream, Marcus looked down at his legs and realized that both of them were pointing straight out before him. That was impossible. His right leg had been permanently twisted since he was a baby. Now he tried bending it, and it actually moved a little—not much, but enough that he managed to kick a small rock. And something felt different about his arm, too. It was still twisted, but he could actually open and close his fingers.
Of course, this wasn’t the first time he’d dreamed of being able to move his arms and legs, but it was definitely the most vivid. In most of his healed dreams, his arms and legs were as perfect as those of anyone else. Better, even. But for some reason in this dream, he could only move them a little. Still, that didn’t make it any less impossible.
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