Elric took Wynn’s hand and backed toward the center of the room. She tucked herself behind him as he scanned the small house, looking for a means of escape.
Black mold rotted the thatching above them, and darkened the hardened daub walls between the supporting timbers. The air smelled damp and foul, like sickness and death. Fishing baskets, pots and things lay around the house in disarray, things knocked to the floor but not taken.
It was likely those dogs had been foraging through the houses, looking for food now that their masters were gone. He didn’t want to think about what else they may have eaten.
The dog gave up trying to fit through the broken door. Elric could hear the other dogs growling and huffing as they paced along the front of the house.
“The Grendel, he ate him!” Wynn said, pointing at the bones.
“Nonsense. He’s in his bed. He probably died of sickness in his sleep. A plague must have reached this village,” Elric said. The shadow of death lingered all around them like a living thing. “We can’t stay here. We have to escape before we end up just like him.”
A small door led out of the back of the house into a garden. To his right was a single shuttered window. The wood on both the window and the back door looked even less sturdy than the front door. Neither would keep those dogs out for long, and they were out of tables.
Wynn stepped closer to the window. Something slammed against the shutters.
“Get back!” Elric stepped in front of his sister.
Wynn shrieked as part of the rotted wood broke away. The mangy gray dog snapped and tore at the planks. Its frothy saliva dripped from its jaws.
Hungry and desperate dogs were one thing; mad ones were another. They’d never get out of this alive if the dogs were infected. Elric swung his ax at the hole, but the impact crushed the sill, and the dog’s paws soon emerged, scratching away the dried mud of the daub wall, exposing the woven wattle beneath, and opening the hole wider. Elric met the dog’s black and feral gaze as its scarred muzzle drew back in a growl.
Wynn ran up next to him as he pulled his ax free from the wall. “Wynn, stay behind me.”
She didn’t listen. Instead she pushed forward toward the mongrel’s snapping jaws. She threw something out of the hole. “There!” she shouted at the vicious dogs.
All three dogs fell back, writhing in a mass as they began fighting with each other.
“What did you do?” Elric hastily grabbed both sacks as she pulled him toward the back door.
“Dogs like bones.” She pushed out of the door and ran in front of him.
Oh, Elric didn’t want to think about that.
Mildred squawked as they raced between the rotting buildings toward the edge of the lake.
“A boat!” Wynn pointed toward the water, where a small fishing boat bobbed lazily, tied to a rickety dock that was missing several boards.
The boat was probably in disrepair and full of leaks. But if it stayed afloat long enough for them to push out into the water, they would have a better chance of escaping those dogs out on the lake. Mad dogs would avoid getting wet at all cost. The only thing that had stopped one from attacking his flock was when he had run the herd through a stream.
“Hurry!” he called. Wynn stumbled and Elric pulled her up as the dogs chased after them. Their sharp fangs flashed as the dogs barked and snapped. Elric picked up a rock and threw it, catching one of the mottled dogs right in the eye.
It let out a yelp and shook its head, but the others didn’t pause their loping strides. The one he had struck with the rock recovered and joined the chase only a body’s length behind the others.
Wynn reached the dock, but then froze as she teetered on the edge of the rotting plank beneath their feet.
“Jump!” Elric screamed at her.
She hesitated, swinging her arms to keep her balance. “Too far.”
“No it’s not, jump!” The dogs were coming up fast.
“Need your hands,” Wynn protested.
Elric grasped an old fishing net lying near the edge of the dock and hauled it up out of the water. Long trails of green muck clung to the ropes. “Go now!” Elric screamed.
Wynn swung her arms and jumped, letting out a sharp cry of fear as she landed on the planks on the other side. One of them broke beneath her, sending her foot through the dock and into the black water. She pulled herself forward to keep herself from falling in.
Elric threw the net, tangling the dogs as they thrashed under the rotting ropes. They fought and snapped, tearing at the thick net.
Elric leaped over the gap in the dock, tugged Wynn up, and pushed her toward the boat. She scrambled into it as Elric grasped an old split oar from the edge of the dock.
One of the dogs freed itself from the net and lunged.
Elric swung the oar, catching the beast across the face and sending it flying sideways into the shallows of the lake. It yelped as it hit the water and furiously swam back to the shore. Elric jumped into the leaky boat and used the oar to push them off away from the dock.
The mange-covered gray one jumped up onto the planks, but paced on the edge of the boards, unwilling to jump into the ice-cold water.
With his head pounding and his heart somewhere near his ears, Elric paddled the small boat out toward the center of the lake. His hands shook and his breath burned in his throat. A small pool of water sat in the bottom of the boat. Hopefully it was a puddle from the recent storm and not a leak, but he couldn’t count on such luck. He looked over at his sister.
“Wynn, are you hurt?”
She shook her head, not saying anything as she carefully opened the top of the sack. Mildred poked her head out, and Wynn tucked her safely back in.
“We’re not hurt.”
He swung his sack around to the seat next to her. He didn’t have to tell her what to do. She pulled out the little pot and scooped up the water, throwing it over the side with a soft splash.
The mist floating above the surface of the water swallowed the sight of the dogs on the dock, but not the sound of their barking as it chased them across the lake.
“Elric?” Wynn’s voice sounded shaky.
“What is it?” he asked, swinging the oar to the other side of the boat and sliding it through the water.
“I don’t think I like dogs anymore.” She paused her bailing for a moment to pat her sack. “Chickens are much nicer. They don’t have teeth.”
Elric let out a chuckle. He couldn’t help it. He took several slow breaths through his nose in an attempt to calm his racing heart. Wynn methodically bailed out the boat, as if the dog attack had never happened. Sometimes he really loved having his sister around. She certainly kept him from lingering on bad thoughts.
“What do we do now?” Wynn asked, pouring another small scoop of water into the misty lake. “The Grendel is following us.”
“We continue on,” he said, without acknowledging her fears about otherworldly monsters. Elric paddled steadily as the fog enveloped them. Whether it was a monster, or terrible luck, danger did seem to follow on their heels.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Wynn
WYNN SCOOPED WATER OUT OF the boat and poured it back into the lake. She had never ridden in a boat before, but she knew water shouldn’t be inside it, so she kept scooping it out while Elric paddled.
Mildred perched on her knee. She looked sleepy after everything that happened with the dogs. Elric did not look sleepy. He looked worried as he scanned the fog.
“I think I see something. Hopefully we didn’t go in a circle,” he said, squinting at the mist.
“We didn’t,” Wynn said. She knew it. They were going the right way. They found the hands holding the moon, and the rain of stars, and then they crossed the clouds and found the lake of air. Tomorrow she would find the grove that the song talked about, and then they would be very close. It was the last step before they found the gate.
“Let me handle the directions. I know how to keep us on track,” Elric said. The pa
ddle made a splash in the water.
Wynn didn’t respond. He didn’t want to listen to her, she could tell, but it didn’t really matter if he did or not. The queen wanted to sing with her. She said so in the cave. The queen would help them find the right way. Wynn peered out into the fog. “Trees!”
She could see them sticking up like black teeth on the foggy shore.
Elric paddled the boat until Wynn could see grassy lake weeds reaching up under the boat in the dark water. Elric leaned over and touched the paddle to the bottom of the lake, and he used it to push them forward. He picked up Mildred and threw her into the air toward the shore. Mildred flapped her wings and flopped onto the pebbles. She ran into the dried grass with her wings beating at her sides as she jogged over the rocks.
“Jump in. Go find some sticks and I can start us a fire,” Elric said as he pushed them forward again. Wynn nodded, pleased that she knew what to do.
“Pick up sticks, pick up sticks,” she sang to herself, the way she had before mother died. She heard Elric chuckle. Something tickled around her ankle. She leaned over. There was a string around her foot. She pulled on it. A grooved stone bauble was tied to it, and a ball of the string was wrapped around a curved bone handle, but the end caught on something.
“Wynn, what are you doing? Get to the shore so I can land this boat.” Elric sounded grumpy, but she didn’t want to let go of the string. She wanted to know how it was caught. Bending far over, she peered under the seat. A hook was stuck in the wood. She tried to hold it tightly with her short thumb. It was very difficult. She had to concentrate.
“Is something wrong?” Elric asked.
She got it! Wynn sat back up holding the hook tightly in her fingers. “Look!”
“A fishing line!” Elric’s face looked as if a bunch of new chicks had hatched in the garden. “This is wonderful. We can fish tonight!”
Wynn was very excited that he was excited, but then she felt sad. “I don’t know how to fish. Water is danger. Mother said no.”
He leaned closer to her. “Don’t worry. I can teach you. C’mon, we have to dig up some worms.”
Wynn was so excited, she wanted to start right now. She jumped into the water with a big splash.
“Wynn! You’re going to scare the fish!” Elric laughed as he said it.
“I’m sorry,” she said, lifting the shortened hem of her former kirtle. She was up to her waist in the lake. The water was cool, but warmer than she thought it should be after winter. The underwater grasses tangled around her legs, but she pulled out of them, then jumped a couple more times to see her feet splash.
Elric hopped out of the boat, sinking into the water up to his thighs. He pushed the boat up onto the shore. “The first rule of fishing.” He held up his first finger. “Fish don’t like noise. Or things splashing in the water. We’ll have to wait for them to settle. Let’s start a fire, then get those worms.”
She leaned to the side and slapped the water at him. It splashed the side of his face. If the fish were already scared, they wouldn’t mind a little more splashing.
“Hey!” His eyes went wide, but then he showed her his playful grin and bent low. He slapped the water harder than she had, and Wynn squealed and ducked as the spray splattered over her back.
Her wet hair stuck to her cheeks, and she kicked water at him, but he used both his arms to push a big plume of water into the air so it arched like the tail of the rooster.
“Do you yield?” he taunted.
She shook her head, stuck out her tongue, and blew through her lips until she made a wet, farty sort of noise at him, then ran from the water onto the shore. “I won’t yield!” she shouted with her hands on her hips.
Elric laughed, shaking out his wet hair. “Fine, I give up. We’ve got work to do before we start fishing.”
Wynn did a good job gathering sticks. Soon Elric had a fire going on the rocky edge of the lake, and the sun peeked through the lifting mist.
The swell of hope surrounded her heart and squeezed. They were close to the mountain. Wynn could see the white peak over the tops of the trees. She wanted to talk about it with Elric, but he didn’t seem to want to listen, so she thought about it instead.
Soon she would find the grove, and then the gate. They would be safe again, and Elric could return to the way he was before, when they were home. She missed the brother who smiled and was happy to see her when he returned from the field. Now he only worried about houses and villages. But fishing made him happy, and she wanted to catch a fish.
She set off along the shore of the lake, with Mildred at her heels. She turned over rocks, and plucked out several creepy bugs and worms, then placed them in the pot for safekeeping. She would have found more, but Mildred ate about half of them as soon as she flipped the rock.
Once she had lots of creepy-crawlies in the pot, she showed it to Elric.
“Good work!” He took the pot and peered into it. “You’ve got some young Mayflies in here too.”
Wynn gave him a puzzled look. “Flies, they swim?”
“These ones are little; they don’t have wings yet. The fish really like them.” He pointed to the leggy things that Mildred liked the best.
Elric took the pot of bugs and the fishing line she had found, and walked over to a flat stretch of sand on the edge of the lake. He poked through the pot and set some of the worms and other bugs on the hook, then turned to her. “I’ll toss the line, but you can hold it. If you feel something tug on it, yank it hard, then wind up the line.”
Wind up the line? She looked down at the spool of line in her hand. This would be harder than she thought. If she didn’t catch a fish, Elric would be disappointed. They needed the food.
“You fish,” she said.
Elric placed the spool of line in her hand. “You can do it.” He gave her a reassuring smile, then straightened her cap. She nodded to him.
“Stand back, I don’t want to catch you with this hook.” Wynn backed away quickly toward the trees. He let out a long tangle of line, then swung the little stone weight before sending the hook and weight flinging over the water. He beckoned for her to come forward, and she moved next to him with hesitant steps. With his arms around her, he showed her how to hold the spool of line and use her other hand to hold the thread, so she could feel if something bit at the hook.
“Remember, if you feel anything, grab the line and tug hard. Then wind it up, the way you would yarn,” he explained.
Mother never let her wind yarn, either. But she didn’t want to say that.
She could feel her heart pounding fast and hard. She watched the line on her finger, expecting to feel a twitch at any moment. But it didn’t come. Elric went to go sit on a large rock. He whistled to himself. He didn’t seem very worried that she didn’t have a fish yet.
So she didn’t worry either. But her arm got tired. Wynn drew in a deep breath and ignored the shaky, burning feeling in her arm. Elric said to hold it up, and she would. She wouldn’t let him down. She really wanted to eat fish tonight.
That’s when she felt it—a sharp tug. Wynn squealed. She forgot what to do!
“That’s it! Bring it in!” Elric yelled. She tugged hard on the line, and the line tugged back. It almost pulled the spool out of her hand. She gripped it with both hands, but then she couldn’t wind the line. She didn’t know what to do! She couldn’t make her thoughts move her hands that fast.
“Wind the line! Get it on the bank!” Elric shouted as he jumped down off the rock and ran toward her.
The line pulled and pulled. Wynn panicked. Holding the line close to her chest, she turned toward the trees and ran as fast as she could.
“What are you doing? You’re not supposed to run,” Elric called, but she kept going. She could still feel the tugging. Elric shouted in surprise, and then she heard a loud splash.
Oh no! She turned back around.
Elric had fallen on his backside in the shallows, a large bronze-colored fish flopping in his lap. He desperately tri
ed to keep hold of it as it thrashed and flailed against him. Wynn pulled on the line, and the fish landed on the beach.
Her brother leaped out of the water and onto the fish. “I got it!” he screamed. But the fish wiggled out from between his arms. It didn’t seem to be on the line anymore, and now it was flopping closer to the water.
That was her fish!
Wynn ran toward the fish and threw herself into the sand, grabbing the fish by the tail and holding on tight as it flung itself about.
“You got it! Keep hold.” Elric ran out of the lake to dive into the sand beside her. He helped hold her hands tight on the fish’s tail. It was a heavy, fat sort of fish with orange-brown scales. “That’s the biggest bream I’ve ever seen! Not bad for your first try. A little unusual method.” He winked at her. “But I’m so proud of you. Let’s get this fish on the fire.”
Suddenly Wynn felt as if the warmth of the fire came from her insides. This is what it was like to be proud.
An hour later, Wynn wiggled her toes as steam rose off the wet leather of her shoes. Her belly was full of fresh fish and another of Mildred’s eggs. She was so happy. Fires were nice. Elric was good at making them. She watched the light flicker over his face. He had wrinkles in his brow that shouldn’t be there, but he looked content.
“Maybe we can make it after all,” he murmured, before he wrapped his cloak around himself and fell to sleep. Wynn watched the moonlight shine on the swirling mist above the lake.
She tucked her cloak closer to her body, and Mildred settled in her arm. They would make it to the gate. There was nothing stopping them now.
Wynn woke up at the first light and shivered. A fine frost coated everything, even her cloak. It almost made the ground look covered in snow. Mildred slept on her nest in the sack, her beak buried in the feathers on her chest.
The fire had gone out. She needed to find more sticks. Elric looked happy sleeping. She pulled his cloak closer to his neck, then set out into the woods to hunt for twigs to start the embers burning again. That would be easier than lighting it from the start.
The Silver Gate Page 15
