Jordyn snickered at him, then shrieked when the icy bark touched her stomach.
“I’m going into the den,” Rowdy stated, preparing to turn back into a mouse and run the dark corridors to Conan’s lair. “I’ll sneak through the tunnels to see where the horn is.” He recited the plan out loud, the one that had been formed around the map that was now etched into his warrior’s memory.
“I’ll approach the mountain from the back side with this and wait for a signal!” Jordyn pinched the camouflage silk sheet she had received from Master Boc and waved it.
All eyes connected with determination. Rowdy’s black hair waved in the wind, and he nodded at the group gravely before shrinking into a brave mouse. He scampered through the dark, cold corridor with speed and confidence.
At last the stench hit him in the face, and he slowed, listening intently with his round, cupped ears. There was not a sound.
He approached the opening to the den, feeling the heat hit him, seeing the fire glowing. He listened. He snuck his nose and whiskers out and twitched for clues. The room was empty.
Now was his chance, and he took it, stealing swiftly out of the hole and running up the wall, dodging in and out of the shadowy crevices of its uneven, rocky surface.
He hid in the shadows between two jagged chunks and looked at the room.
It was all surrounded by rock. He was curious about the fire and impressed. There must be a hole to the outside above it.
Grass mats covered most of the floor. There was no furniture. A big pile of old bones covered one end of the room, almost reaching the ceiling. Rowdy shuddered. Then he thought about the map in his mind and headed up toward the main network of hallways.
The stench of the wolf and the rotting bones was replaced by a new smell that made it hard to breathe. Goats. Rowdy squished his nose up as he headed up to colder air and the stench of goat fur, goat food, and goat feces. The floors of the halls were layered in muck, and it wasn’t long before Rowdy could hear their deafening braying and clattering hooves. He tucked himself up into a crevice in the ceiling as a group passed noisily beneath him.
They weren’t like the goats he had seen on a farm when he was young. They weren’t cute with floppy ears and little tufty tails wagging.
These goats were big. Their thick white coats were yellowing at the ends and caked with feces and ice. Their eyes bulged, and their bawling was deep and mournful. Their screams echoed down the long, loud corridors. It set Rowdy’s fur on end.
After they passed, Rowdy recommenced his journey to the cave that held Granny’s horn, unsure of what to expect. He kept on the lookout for goats as he nimbly negotiated the uneven terrain beneath his paws.
He was also wondering, fearfully, where Conan and Cern were. The tunnels would be a tight fit for them to maneuver through, but he guessed it was possible. Also, Cern was a sorceress. He guessed she could fry him with a glance. His granny’s advice came to him then. “Focus only on your goal.” He did, rounding a corner along the ceiling and entering a room. A goat stood in the doorway just beneath him, standing guard.
The goat’s odd rectangular pupils moved back and forth in their bulging yellow orbs, scanning the hallways. The beast was ready to bawl at the slightest provocation.
Rowdy clung to the ceiling, mere inches from the goat’s smelly head. He tiptoed slowly into the room farther, trembling. The room was empty except for the horn that glowed a dull blue in its cold, unused state.
It was the size of the horn that stopped him in his tracks. It was leaning sideways against the wall, unable to fit straight up and down. It was almost three meters long, Rowdy guessed, with a base as wide as a supper plate and a point as sharp as a pin.
He wondered if he would be capable of carrying it out without Jordyn’s help.
He also wondered if his memory was serving him right. He believed across the hall was one of the four openings in the Great Mountain. It would be hard to reach from the outside. The entrance was far up on top of several waterfalls that were close to frozen. The rocky faces would be icy and treacherous. He wondered how far Jordyn had made it up, creeping along under her silk sheet to avoid detection from the lookout goats.
Rowdy made a decision. He crawled to the floor and crept unnoticed behind the goat’s mucky hooves. He took a breath and shifted, and just as the goat turned to see what the commotion was about, Rowdy slit its throat. The mouth was open. The tongue was out on the cusp of an alarming bawl. But none came, only hot black blood.
Rowdy felt instantly sick. The goat slumped to the floor into black stickiness, the hot, sweet smell filling Rowdy’s mouth and nose. He kneeled beside it and watched in wonder and remorse as the dead body got smaller, turned a soft, clean brown, and stared at him lifelessly with a sweet little smile on its fuzzy muzzle.
“Focus only on your goal,” Rowdy muttered to himself. He stood, dragged the small body farther into the dark room, and peered left and right down the corridors.
The coast was clear. Rowdy moved across the hall, following a light. His senses were alert. His blade was at the ready, now black with drying blood. His finger hovered close to the amethyst in his pocket.
He crept on his leather boots until he saw the opening in the mountain. Another possessed goat stood guard, facing out.
Rowdy hung back, thinking. The key was to kill the guard quickly enough that it didn’t cry out to alert the others. He was planning his next move when he heard a far-off scream. It was Jordyn.
The guard stood and looked down the mountain. Rowdy ran swiftly up to it, jumped on its back, and slit its throat. He looked at the treacherous mountainside below him just in time to see Jordyn slit the throat of a goat, then fall to her knees among the boulders as the dying beast returned to its true form.
Rowdy stayed focused. He ran to the horn and dragged it to the opening. Jordyn waved up at him. He nodded and heaved the horn over the edge. It fell through the air, bounced off a boulder, and landed a short distance from her. He watched her clamber over to it and throw her cloak over top of herself and the horn, disappearing into the snow.
Rowdy shrank back to a mouse and hid in the crevice, listening over the sound of his panting breath. Had they stirred up attention yet?
Could Jordyn get the horn to Granny by herself?
He listened until his paws were growing numb with cold. He headed back the way he came, down toward the warm stench of rot. Down to Conan’s den.
He heard a fierce commotion as he got closer. He entered the room and hid behind a bump in the ceiling, shaking with fear.
“Where are you, intruder?” the wolf demanded, scattering bones everywhere, swiping paws full of them up and smashing them against the walls.
Rowdy looked in wonder and horror at the unicorn who stood unflinching in the room, watching Conan’s temper tantrum.
Everything about her was immense and haunting. Her eyes were huge, dark, and mysterious, fringed with long silver lashes. Her mane was silver and glimmered like silk in the light of the fire.
Her fur was silver and her body densely muscled. Rowdy’s breath got caught when he looked at the size of her shiny, polished hooves.
“Show yourself!” Conan growled low and menacingly, swinging his massive head around with narrowed eyes at every shadowy corner.
Rowdy shrank as small as he could make himself, debating whether he should retreat back into the heart of the mountain.
“What could it be?” Cern’s words fell like musical notes on the gloomy den.
Conan got on all fours and began to sniff the room in a grid-like fashion.
“Hmph,” he grumbled. “Smells human.”
Cern nodded, making her mane shimmer. She looked carefully around the room.
Rowdy trembled, frozen with terror as Conan went back and forth, getting closer and closer. Fleeing now would be as risky as staying put. He gulped. His throat was dry.
Just as the wet nose was coming toward him across the ceiling,
Cern unknowingly saved him.
“Your sense of smell is so keen, friend. The intruder could be anywhere. With your approval, I will round up the creatures and patrol the outside.”
She waited majestically without a twitch.
“Yes, you are right. Go! I will check the corridors for signs of mischief!” He bared his fierce teeth then and leaned his shaggy head back. He howled. The sound was bloodcurdling, long and sorrowful. It filled every nook, and every corridor rang with its song. Rowdy closed his eyes tight and thought only of maintaining his grip.
A gust of smelly air passed beneath him.
Cern’s hooves could be heard exiting the den.
Then there was silence but for the crackling of the fire and the warrior’s thundering heart. Rowdy was afraid. A boy with a small blade was no match for a timber wolf. He sighed, unsure of what to do next.
Just then Rose flew into the den frantically, a note in her beak. She hovered before him, flapping while he read it. It was from Granny.
Entering the delta. Need a diversion.
“A diversion?” Rowdy whimpered. Rose flew back out the cave entrance. Rowdy ran to the floor, spat his stone out, and shifted. He stood as a young man and fell to one knee before the fire.
“Master. It is time.”
He pulled a handful of birch bark, now mostly dry, from the inside of his shirt. He held it to the fire, and when it lit, he walked to the bone pile and fluffed up the materials around his burning bark pieces until flames and putrid smoke began to consume the remains of the dead.
Rowdy stood before the bone pile, facing both entrances, waiting for the wolf and the tiger. What emerged instead was an inpouring of mutant goats, bawling and bellowing. Rowdy stood steadily and fought against them as though they were merely shadows on a gemstone wall.
He felt as if he were dancing, his motions were so fluid. He sliced apart the bodies one by one until the fire consumed the den and Rowdy was forced outside into the blinding white world of snow.
He saw all around him goats in the hundreds and thousands streaming down the surrounding hills toward him.
He saw Rose trying to create a diversion to his left and the delta far on his right, where Jordyn would be meeting Granny with the horn.
He looked up to the top of the Great Mountain to see Conan with his head thrown back in a howl. He looked behind Conan to see the mighty Cern flowing like mercury toward him, her eyes blazing silver.
He looked to the cave entrance, burning with fire, to see the ghostly shapes of a dead army emerging on the heels of his master, the grizzled and scarred old Boc.
Master Boc approached him, his eyes no longer kind. He stood behind Rowdy, facing the approaching unicorn. Rowdy drew his blade and jumped into a sea of demented goats, emboldened by the arrival of the master.
The air was full of the sounds of horns, hooves, and steel crashing against each other. It was full of the scents of blood and sweat. As Rowdy pierced the heart of a beast, he saw far away, on the white landscape, his granny walking toward her horn. Her golden hair tumbled in the wind behind her. Her loyal crow flew before her. He felt uplifted, took a hoof to the face, and sliced his opponent down.
As Boc fought Cern, Conan was making his way down the mountain, his gaze fixed on his old rival, now a spirit returned from the dead.
Rowdy soon began to despair. For all the bodies that were piling up around him, more kept coming. He was getting tired. He was terrified of Conan.
“Hey!” Jordyn said. “Behind!”
She was fresh. She was powerful. She was courageous, felling enemies around them while Rowdy slowed his pace, trying to regain some strength. He pulled a pellet out of his pocket and popped it into his mouth, wanting to shout with excitement that Jordyn was there.
“Ondag is being released,” she said. She gasped under a shower of sickly black blood.
“How?”
“Flint and birch bark!”
The two fell into a focused rhythm, side by side, mowing down the bawling goats with the army of spirits beside them. Until Conan stood on his back legs and glared down at them. He raised his paw, his claws out, and swiped across the spirits, scattering them as though they were nothing.
He laughed and turned his gaze on the warriors. The goats retreated in fear, hovering behind Conan, confused.
“I hate humans!” Conan roared and pounced at Rowdy and Jordyn, claws in the air. They stood stoically, blades up, prepared to do any damage they could.
But just as the massive body fell over them, a fierce white polar bear tumbled Conan over with a solid hit of bone on bone.
Rowdy and Jordyn turned to fight as the goats advanced again. They watched in horror as, across the field, Cern was trampling Wizard Boc. He had held his ground as long as he could and now was dying, again, underneath the wide shining hooves of the sorceress.
They cut down another stream of enemies, then looked to see the white-and-orange hues of Wizard Boc’s spirit disintegrating into the frosty air.
Cern stamped her hoof and zeroed in on them, her large, lashed eyes glowing silver. She began her advance, but the spirit army rushed in and surrounded her, drowning her with their bodies and weapons.
Jordyn and Rowdy could see the goats dwindling in number at last. It gave them strength. They could see Conan and Ondag locked in a vicious fight, Ondag’s brilliant coat stained with blood.
Cern’s powerful figure emerged from Boc’s army and trampled the ghosts down. They dissipated into multicolored clouds, leaving Cern stamping and tossing her mane in agitation.
She approached the young warriors again at a run, hot steam bursting out of her nose. Jordyn gasped. Rowdy sliced into the final bewitched goat and stood tall beside Jordyn as the massive unicorn approached them, her laser-sharp horn sparkling in the falling, late-afternoon light.
The vicious sounds of Conan and Ondag fighting behind them made them shudder. They readied themselves, wondering what the sorceress would do when she got to them. She put her head down and tried to pierce Jordyn’s body. Jordyn dodged in the nick of time, escaping the sharp horn. Rowdy was hit hard by the unicorn’s giant legs. He flew through the air and smashed his head against the ice, falling into darkness.
“Rowdy!” Jordyn whispered, shaking him awake.
He grimaced at the pain in his head, then tried to sit up.
“Shh,” Jordyn hissed. She put her hand on his chest and held him down. It was dark around him and still full of the sounds of battle.
“We’re under the white camouflage cloth. It’s growing dark outside. The wizards are all fighting.”
He felt her hand touch his face, then feel around his skull.
“No blood. Goose egg though.” She felt his face until she found his lips. She kissed him.
“Let’s peek out. Shh,” she said, instructing him to move onto his stomach. The ground was melting beneath his body heat. Jordyn must have kept him warm.
It was dusk. The sky was heavy with stars. Rowdy could see two silvery unicorns blasting one another with electricity from their flashing horns.
He gasped in wonder.
“I know. That’s Granny.” They both fell silent, watching transfixed with their breath caught in their throats.
“She’s stunning,” he whispered.
The bear and the wolf were bloody and torn up, grunting and growling, slashing and rolling around, attempting to squeeze the life out of each other.
“What do we do?” Rowdy whispered. “It’s anyone’s win.”
“We creep over closer, then take Conan by surprise and stab him until he dies.”
Rowdy shuddered.
Jordyn accepted his silence as an agreement and began crawling toward the fray. He went along with her, not having a better idea to offer. His head was throbbing, so he let Jordyn lead.
They crawled along on wet blood and bloody chunks of fur. The smell was increasingly unbearable as it collected beneath the camouflage sheet.
Rowdy was getting dizzy from the stench. He popped his face out and inhaled slightly less smelly air.
The wizards were loud as they tumbled.
Across the field, the sky was lighting up with forks of lightning, all colors, with the sound of thunder crashing behind them. It was impossible for Rowdy to know which sorceress was winning.
On Jordyn’s command, the warriors ran into the dark fray of the wizard’s brawl. They did as Jordyn had suggested, stabbing Conan’s meaty body over and over until Rowdy threw up from the sound and feel of it. Each stab and pull was tight and resistant, making a thump and a squishing sound.
Ondag collapsed on the ground, bleeding. When Conan’s heart stopped beating and his massive, powerful body lay limp and stiffening, Jordyn and Rowdy covered Ondag with the blanket. They took out their flint and what remained of the birch bark and lit a small fire beside him. They melted snow with their cupped hands and dropped the moisture into his panting mouth. They gave him the rest of their grassy food pellets. Jordyn lay on Ondag, and he hugged her gently with his thick, muscular forelegs.
“Don’t die. We’ll go get Granny!”
“We need to cut Cern’s horn, Jord,” Rowdy said as they ran through the darkness across the field to the lightning show.
They stopped on the fringes of the light to make a plan.
“You have to cut it,” Rowdy instructed. “I will have to boost you. I’m too heavy.”
“Like when you boost me into my bedroom window?” Jordyn winked at him.
“Exactly like that! Wait for my instruction!” They ran then into the light, and the sorceresses balked, caught off guard.
They heard Granny whinny piercingly at them. She reared up and thrust her hooves at Cern, who responded by doing the same. Rowdy and Jordyn went to Cern’s flank, and Rowdy boosted her up.
He stabbed the muscular back legs while Jordyn scrambled up Cern’s back and locked her knees around the unicorn’s shimmering neck.
Granny waited for her moment. When Cern shook her huge neck to shake Jordyn off, Granny came down on her horn with her own and pressed Cern’s horn into the ground. She held it there with all her strength to buy Jordyn time to cut the horn off.
Behind the Curtain Page 15
