by Maureen Bush
The troll was panting up from below, Aleena closing in from the right. I didn’t know what to do, just that I wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, else. I picked up a piece of wood, a heavy club.
“Give me the ring,” I whispered to Maddy.
She slipped it off her finger and handed it to me. I closed my fist around the ring, squeezing tight. Then Maddy took the club from me, raised it above her shoulders like a baseball bat, and said, “I’ll protect you from behind.”
I stared at her, all four feet and forty-four pounds of her. Yeah, right, I thought. And then I looked in her eyes. She had this look I’d never seen before, of such determination. “Smack the first one that comes near us,” I said.
She nodded, and we stood back to back, waiting and listening.
I could hear them both, Aleena panting lightly, the troll breathing in raspy gasps. They stepped closer to us, one from below, one from the side. Then another step. Maddy tightened her grip on the club.
The troll roared and charged at us. Maddy swung the club and he ducked. Aleena moved in from the side, and Maddy turned back and forth, swinging the club at both of them.
The rumblings deepened into solid thuds I could feel in my feet and up my legs. I could smell rock dust as the pounding moved around the face of the mountain. And there was the giant, looming over us. He must have been twice as tall as my dad, solid as a column of stone. His skin was grey and creased like the mountain, and his face was still as a rock, watching us.
When he saw the troll and Aleena, his face scrunched up like he was smelling something disgusting. He bellowed, in a voice that shook the mountain, “Who brings vermin to my castle?”
I stood frozen with fear, like a troll turned to stone. Maddy nudged me and I shook myself. I held out the ring in the palm of my hand. The giant’s eyes widened when he recognized it.
The troll stepped closer, behind me, only held off by Maddy and her club. He spoke in a wheedling voice, “It’s my ring. If you give it to me, I won’t hurt you.” He held out his hand, meaty and grasping. When I didn’t react, he seemed to puff himself up to look larger and enormously threatening.
Then Aleena spoke, her voice soft and gentle. “Don’t trust that evil troll. Give me the ring and I’ll take you to your parents.” She held out a delicate hand. ”You can trust me,” she said. But I knew I couldn’t.
I turned to look up at the giant, expecting him to ask too. He just stood there, rock solid. “Why should I give you the ring?” I asked.
He stared down at me, a huge block. I shut my eyes so I didn’t have to see him. Then I heard him speak, in a deep rumble. “I will keep it safe.”
“That’s it?” I asked, angry at being surrounded by three monsters. “‘I will keep it safe’? No threats, no magic, no persuasions?”
“You must decide,” he replied.
I turned to Maddy, guarding me with the club. “Maddy, what should I do?”
Before she could answer, the troll bellowed, “Not her! You must decide!” He raised his arms towards the mountainside and a huge rock floated down. It stopped, hovering, above Maddy’s head. “If she speaks, I will drop the rock!”
The giant frowned and stepped forward, then stepped back again as the rock shifted above Maddy. She stood rigid, not even breathing, eyes staring up at the rock.
I could feel my whole body shaking. I felt sick, but I took a deep breath, trying to listen inside.
Then Aleena spoke. “Josh, give me –”
“Silence!” roared the giant.
The sound was so loud it hurt my ears. Everyone became silent and stared at the ring nestled in my hand. Even though the otter-people had told me to give the ring to the giant, it seemed impossible that I could trust this block of rock. But a sureness was growing deep inside of me.
I whipped my arm back, and threw the ring up to the giant.
The troll yelled, “no!” and launched himself up the mountain, arms reaching to catch the ring as it fell. Maddy jumped to the side, away from the rock plummeting to the ground where she’d been standing. Aleena followed the troll, grabbing for the ring, the troll, anything. The ring spun high into the air, then curved down, too soon, down towards the troll’s grasping fingers.
At the last moment the giant reached out and closed his great hand over it. The troll and Aleena both cried out, “No!”
The troll stood above us, looking from Maddy and me to the giant, his face dark red with anger. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He raised his fist and bellowed as he launched himself at us.
The giant thudded down the mountainside and spoke, his voice like thunder. “Troll, be gone.”
The troll slowed but kept coming. The giant reached out with his enormous arm and plucked the troll from the path. The giant held the troll up to his face and whispered a rumbling, “Be gone, troll, or I will hold you up until the clouds leave and the sun shines on you.”
He dropped the wriggling troll below us, and Gronvald slunk into the woods, curses and threats drifting back to us. “I’ll get it back. It’s my ring. I’ll teach you to mess with me.”
Aleena stood gazing at us with a look of fury and loss all mixed together, then turned and glided down the mountain.
Now, it was just Maddy, the giant and me.
The giant was enormous. His face was craggy, with deep, shadowed furrows. His hair and eyes and clothes were as grey as Castle Mountain. His hands were huge, and looked like they’d been roughly chiseled from stone. And yet they were gentle hands. I studied him, and decided I’d draw him with a hard medium-grey pencil, sharpened so I could get all the angles, but in a softer colour than Aleena or the troll.
The giant peered at the ring. “Nexus ring,” he said. “Yours?” and he looked at me. His voice was deep and rumbly, and he spoke slowly, as if he needed a long time to think before speaking.
Maddy cleared her throat. “It…it’s mine. But I don’t want it. I want you to keep it safe.”
“I am Keeper. I will keep it safe,” replied the giant.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“I am Keeper,” he said, in his slow, deep voice.
“But what is your name?” I said. “What do people call you?”
“People call me ‘Aaah! A giant!’ Then they run away.”
“Josh,” Maddy interrupted.
“Just a minute, Maddy,” I said.
“Maybe he doesn’t have another name.” She turned to the giant. “May we call you Keeper?”
“I would be honoured,” he replied, bowing his head. Then he asked, “How did you get the ring?”
“It’s a long story,” I said.
I must have sounded tired, because Keeper answered, “Come to my castle, and tell me your story. I like stories.”
His castle? No way. “Uh,” I said, “we need to get home.”
Keeper leaned down to me, trying to concentrate, I think, but it was unnerving having him so close. I swallowed. “The otter-p…” my voice cracked and I had to repeat myself. “The otter-people said you could help us get home. We don’t know how to cross the veil back to our world.”
The giant smiled. “You returned the nexus ring. I will help you. First we must go to my castle. So you will know the ring will be safe.”
“Is it very far?” asked Maddy.
Keeper peered down at her and nodded. “You are tired. I will carry you.”
He patted his shoulder, then leaned down near me. When I realized he wanted me to sit on his shoulder, my stomach slid into my feet. I stared up at Keeper, shocked. His face lit up in a huge rocky grin and he nodded. I gulped, then scrambled onto his right shoulder. Then he reached for Maddy.
“Are you sure?” she asked me, looking wary.
I did a quick sketch on my leg, of Maddy and the giant and me, and it was light and funny and safe. I nodded to Maddy. “Come on up.” And then I didn’t feel safe at all, as Keeper bent down to pick up Maddy
. I grabbed his head to hang on to. He settled Maddy on his left shoulder, and started walking, his footsteps reverberating up the mountain.
It was like I’d imagine riding an elephant to be, high and swaying, and very scary. But soon I forgot how I was moving, as my eyes widened at all the things I’d never seen before: the forest from high in the trees, eye to eye with birds in their nests. When the trees opened up, I had an incredible view across the valley. Quietly I sketched across my pant leg.
Maddy swayed with Keeper’s walk, one hand clasping his hand and the other in his hair to steady herself. She looked nervous, but excited too. We grinned at each other.
Keeper walked out of the trees at the base of a cliff. Castle Mountain rose straight above us. I almost fell off when Keeper swept his arm across the face of the mountain.
“My castle,” he announced.
Maddy gaped. “How do you get into it?”
“Watch,” he said, and a slow grin spread across his face. He climbed a series of rock steps, then followed a ledge along the face of the cliff. Lucky Maddy was against the cliff wall. I was on the outside edge. I hoped she didn’t notice me clinging to Keeper’s head. I couldn’t look down.
With a jerk, Keeper stopped and bent over. I slid off his shoulder in a weak-kneed stagger. Maddy wobbled beside me. We were facing a deep crack in the mountain. “I can not carry you here. It is too narrow.”
Inside the crack were rock steps so big no human would recognize them. We started climbing, Keeper boosting us up the steps we couldn’t scramble over. Soon Maddy and I were sweaty and filthy. We kept climbing, struggling up the giant steps, trying to stay ahead of Keeper’s enormous hands pushing us up.
And then we were through, behind the face of Castle Mountain.
Chapter Eleven
Keeper
Keeper swung us back onto his shoulders and kept walking, on a path winding up to the peak of Castle Mountain. When we reached the top we sat together, perched on the crest of the mountain.
We could see forever, down to the Bow River winding through meadows and across to the mountains ringing the valley. Dark clouds gathered around Storm Mountain, and wind pulled at our hair. Above us, an eagle soared.
Keeper reached into one of his deep pockets. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
Yes! Even more than sketching, I wanted to eat!
He held out two buns. In our hands, they were as big as loaves of bread. As we tore open the bread, he chuckled and the sound reverberated like an actor’s voice on a stage. “I have more buns. Eat. Eat!”
After we’d each devoured a loaf, Keeper said, “Now, tell me how you have the ring.”
And so we told him. He listened carefully. When we were done he sat back and sighed. “That is a good story. I will keep the ring safe.” He looked at Maddy. “Maddy liked it?”
“I did,” said Maddy, a little mournfully. “But not any more.”
“I have rings. You may choose one. Does Josh want a ring too?”
I shook my head. “No, thanks. I don’t need a ring. I just want to get home.”
Keeper nodded. “Come. I will show you where I will keep the nexus ring, and Maddy can choose a new one.”
We climbed down from the peak, along ledges and giant steps, into a cave. It was cool and dark and very deep. I couldn’t see to the end of it, even with Keeper’s torch.
Through the dimness, I could see shelves carved into the walls, a bed piled with blankets, a huge wooden table with chairs of various sizes, and a big stone fireplace. It was hard to see details in the dim light; I longed to stay and explore. But Keeper led us deep into the cave, where he set his shoulder against a slab of rock and began pushing. The rock screeched as it slid across the floor of the cave. Keeper reached into a hollow underneath, and pulled out a worn grey bundle.
“Come see rings, little Maddy.” Keeper opened the ragged cloth across one huge hand, revealing a dozen rings. “What do you like?”
Maddy looked carefully at them all. She tried on rings sparkling with jewels, but finally chose a small silver band engraved with a pattern of interlocking lines. “I like this. Is it safe?”
“This is a safe ring for Maddy. Elves made it.” He wrapped the cloth into a tight bundle and placed it back in the hollow. “After I take you home, I will put the nexus ring here.” Then he set his shoulder to the slab again, and slowly pushed it back into place.
“Will the ring be safe?” I asked.
“I am Keeper. It will be safe. Trolls do not like me.”
“They might trick you again,” Maddy said.
“They will not trick me again. Now, is it time to go home?”
“Yes,” said Maddy. “I want to go home.”
We sat outside the cave, watching eagles float above the peaks. Below us, the mountain curved down in a huge bowl, cradling a lake. Bear cubs tumbled in a meadow. Storm clouds moved off to the south, and we basked in the sun and talked about getting home.
“I know where we are,” I said. “If we can cross over to our side of the veil, and go to the highway and stop someone, they’ll take us to the police. And the police will call our parents.”
“You want the police?” asked Keeper slowly. “Why not your parents?”
“Well, sure,” I said, “I’d like to go straight home, but we can’t. We’ve been missing for days.” The troll’s Shadows couldn’t be convincing at home, joking at dinner and doing homework. “Mom and Dad will have called the police already.”
“No,” said Keeper. He paused for a moment, then explained. “Time shifts crossing the veil. I can fix it. Where would you like to meet them?”
“Aleena said that too. I don’t understand. Human time is logical.”
Keeper answered firmly, “Sometimes there is no logic. Sometimes it just is. I can fix it. Where would you like to meet your parents?”
“Okay. How about back at the Giant Cedars Boardwalk? Where this all started?”
“You saw them drive away?” Keeper asked. When I nodded, he said, “I cannot take you back to before they left, because you would still be there. And it would take us a long time to walk. Choose someplace closer.”
Maddy spoke up. “Josh, you know that roadside pull-off where we stop on the way home, where we can just see Banff? Could we meet them there?”
“But what if they don’t stop? And what about those Shadows in the back seat? And that was two days ago!”
“The troll makes trouble magic,” Keeper said. “I make fixing magic. When you come, the Shadows will go. What time?”
I gave up. “Okay.” I thought about Dad’s schedule, and Mom’s magic places. “How about when our parents stop at the Bow Valley Viewpoint, last Wednesday. The last Wednesday in July,” I said, looking at Keeper. When he nodded, I kept going. “Around 3:30. No, a little earlier. We should get there first.”
“How will you get us there without being seen?” Maddy asked.
“We will not cross the veil until we are nearby. Humans will not see us.”
He hoisted us onto his shoulders and we set off down the mountain. We swayed with him, ducking to avoid branches, listening to chipmunks scolding. We stopped for a drink when we came to a stream, then followed it downhill.
When we reached the Bow River, Keeper lowered us to the ground and waded into the water. When we didn’t follow him, he turned and gestured. “Come. We need to go down the river.”
“What?” Maddy and I both squeaked.
“It’s too cold,” I said, shocked.
Keeper smiled. “It is a lovely afternoon for a swim.”
Maddy and I just shivered. “It’s too cold for us,” I insisted.
Keeper stepped back to shore and looked down at us. “I will keep you warm.” Then he leaned down and blew. His breath surrounded us like a feather-soft blanket. Instead of vanishing, the air settled around us in a cocoon of warmth.
Then Keeper took our hands and led us into the river. I could feel the
water rushing by my legs, soaking my clothes, but the cold couldn’t penetrate the barrier Keeper had wrapped around me.
As the water tried to sweep us away, Keeper grabbed us, lay down on the water, and pulled us onto his chest. And that’s how we floated down the Bow River, draped across Keeper’s chest, legs dangling behind as the current carried us downstream.
“Hey, Josh,” said Maddy, giggling, “you said you wanted to go rafting this summer. Bet you didn’t think it would be like this!”
I laughed, thinking of all the rafts we’d watched floating down the Bow River in Calgary.
After a while I could see Mount Rundle, a wedge of rock slicing into the sky. I knew Banff sat at the base of Rundle, and that we could see both from the Banff Viewpoint. But we weren’t close enough yet.
“In the human world there are lakes here,” said Keeper, lifting his head slightly to look at us. “In the magic world the river winds back and forth. We can float downstream to near the doorway.”
When Mount Rundle was as tall as I remembered it from the Banff Viewpoint, Keeper swam us to shore. We stepped out into a marsh, soft and muddy underfoot. We squished past cattails and reeds, birds flying up around us. The air was fresh and cold, with a sweet smell like crushed rosemary.
Walking ahead of me, Maddy suddenly stopped and turned with her face scrunched up. “Ewwww. What is that disgusting smell?”
I stepped closer and it hit me too. The fresh sweet air was suddenly filled with the stench of rotten eggs.
Keeper turned and smiled. “Here,” he said, and he led us around an open patch of water. He pointed to the water nearest a hillside; the surface was covered in grey-and-white slime, with leaves floating on top.
“Oh, that’s really gross,” I said.
Keeper laughed. “Warm water comes from inside the earth.”
Maddy and I bent down and touched the water.
“Hey, it really is warm,” Maddy said. “But why?”
“It’s a hot spring,” I said, finally understanding. “Just like in Banff. Remember how much it stinks there?”
