A puff of smoke filled the room. It had a sickly sweet smell which reminded Sarah of black licorice for some reason. She crouched low, coughing and waving her hands to get the strange haze away from her. It disappeared eventually, and Sarah was quite relieved that she hadn’t been transformed into anything unnatural. The boy, however, was nowhere to be found. Only his robes and hat remained, lying crumpled on the floor in an undignified heap.
“Well, that was a rude boy,” said Sarah to herself. “And now he’s running around naked somewhere around here… wherever here might be.”
She got out of bed and walked across the room in her light blue pajamas. The bedroom was nothing like hers at all. Everything looked old, like she had wandered into a museum. The wooden floor was warped and cracked, and there was only a small window to let light in. The glass of the window was so dirty that it was impossible to see outside. There were no books or magazines of any sort, save for the large leather-bound tome that lay next to the boy’s robes. Somehow, she didn’t think that book had any stories in it.
“Well, since I haven’t woken up yet, I might as well do some exploring.” She frowned and looked at her wrinkled pajamas. “Except I don’t have anything to wear. All my clothes are gone.” She looked around the room again, but there were no wardrobes and nothing at all to wear. All she could find was a crooked wooden walking stick and a sack filled with stale bread and dried meat. Finally, she looked at the crumpled robes the boy wore, which still had wisps of smoke clinging to them.
“I guess these will have to do,” she said. She didn’t like the idea of putting on the purple clothes, for if they were too big on that tall boy, they would look even more ridiculous on her. Still, she decided she’d rather look foolish for a little while than wander the world in nothing but her pajamas. Even in a dream, Sarah liked to be prepared.
But as soon as her hands came near the ragged clothes, she heard another noise that made her jump backward. She had thought she was alone in the room, but something else stirred underneath that pile of clothes. The sound came again, more clearly this time. It sounded like a cross between a cough and a gurgle. As she lived in the city and normally only saw wildlife through the cages at the zoo, it took her a moment to recognize the noise. When she figured it out, she giggled. It was the croaking of a frog.
“Well, this is a fine predicament you’ve gotten yourself into, isn’t it?” Sarah asked the creature. “You said you were going to turn me into a frog. I have to admit, your spell is impressive at least, even if you cast it on the wrong person.”
The frog croaked glumly.
“If my mom was here, she’d probably make you stay that way all day, just to teach you a lesson. Maybe I should do the same. Maybe next time you’d consider other people’s feelings before threatening to turn them into something they’re not.”
The frog croaked again and hung its head.
“Still, I’m not my mom, so I guess I should probably give you a second chance. I’ll see what I can do for you, and this time you’d better behave yourself.”
She put her hands on her hips and looked about the room, trying to find something that might be magical enough to reverse the spell. She picked up the walking stick in the corner and waved it, but nothing happened. Not even a single spark came from the end of the staff.
“This dream isn’t living up to my expectations,” she muttered, tossing the stick back toward the corner. “What good is having a wizard’s staff lying around if it isn’t magical?” With a deep frown, she continued looking about the room. Unfortunately, the only thing that seemed remotely magical—other than the boy transformed into a frog, of course—was the spellbook itself. She picked up the tome and began turning the coarse pages.
The frog chirped, sounding alarmed, and began squirming back under the cover of its purple robes.
“Oh, relax. If you could manage a spell from here, I don’t see any reason why I can’t.”
Sarah had taken some French classes in school, but the writing inside the old book didn’t look anything like French, English, or any other language. It didn’t even have letters she could recognize—merely runes and scribbles that looked like they belonged in a coloring book or a connect-the-dots puzzle. Much to her surprise, though, something about those writings made sense to her.
As she focused on the runes and markings, they seemed to form into words and phrases she could understand. For a moment, she thought the words were moving on the page, forming letters that she knew. But then she looked away and looked back, only to see that the writing was still in some strange language.
Sarah couldn’t really read the tome, but when she concentrated, it seemed to make sense. Her eyes flew over the pages, taking in the strange writing and immediately turning it into something she could recognize.
The book seemed to have every magical spell or idea she could imagine. There were recipes for potions, instructions on how to craft a magic wand, and information on all manner of strange creatures, from giants to dragons to fairies. Eventually, she found instructions for a spell labeled Transformation. At least, she thought that was what the label said. For the most part, she was still basing her assumptions on intuition and guesswork.
“Um… let’s see. I think I know what this says…” Sarah took a deep breath and closed her eyes. If she made a mistake, she’d probably end up as a frog herself. Of course, the alternative was to let the poor boy in front of her stay stuck in that form. For some reason, life eating flies and hopping into ponds seemed to be quite a cruel fate.
“Ebuo lurecu hiaas!” Sarah spoke the words loudly and pointed a finger at the frog. This time, there was no smoke. Almost immediately, the broad green face began to change shape. The frog grew, and as it did so, it returned to the form of a boy. His body once again filled the robes, and his hat slipped over his eyes. In less than a minute, he was standing before Sarah in his normal form again, looking grumpier than before.
“See,” said Sarah, offering the book back to the boy, “you mixed up your vowels. You thought the As were Us and the Us were As.”
She didn’t get so much as a “thank you” for her efforts. Instead, the boy snatched the book from her and thrust it under his armpit without even nodding his head. “I know what I did wrong,” he snapped. “I was just testing you.”
“Testing me? How do you test someone by turning yourself into a frog?”
“I needed to know what magical powers you had. Obviously, you must be a cunning witch to be able to break into the room of the great sorcerer Kay without being detected.”
“The great sorcerer Kay? Where is he? And why are you in his room?”
“I am the sorcerer Kay,” sputtered the boy. “And you… you’re an arrogant witch!”
“Excuse me?” Sarah felt her blood growing hot, and her own anger grew to match Kay’s. “I don’t know where we are, but where I come from, you don’t call someone a witch. Especially not after they’ve just helped you. I should have left you as a toad.”
“A frog.”
“Oh, whatever! You’re just lucky that I didn’t use that stupid book of yours to turn you into something worse!”
Kay shrank back, watching in awe and fear as Sarah’s face grew red with rage. When he spoke again, his voice was much more quiet and meek. “I, um… I didn’t mean anything by it, honest. I just assumed you were a witch. I mean, you’re dressed funny, and you were able to use my spellbook. I figured you were going to challenge me to a magic duel or something.”
“A magic duel? How am I supposed to do that? I don’t even know how to use magic.”
“Well, you were able to read my spellbook. It’s as easy as that.”
“But all the words are gibberish.”
“They’re supposed to be gibberish. If they were all written in a language people understood, it wouldn’t be very mysterious, would it?”
Sarah paused and took a breath. She cleared her head and looked again at Kay. The boy seemed honestly afraid of her. But then, so di
d most boys her age. “You know, for someone I dreamed up, you seem a little… odd.”
“Dreamed up? What are you talking about?”
Sarah didn’t get a chance to respond before she was interrupted. There was a boom of thunder outside, and the entire building shook as though it had just been caught in an earthquake. Shouts of panic drifted into the room. One voice downstairs called out to any who would listen. “We’re under attack! Baelan is here!”
Kay’s face grew pale at those words, and he seemed to forget all about his argument with Sarah. “He’s found me,” he whispered.
“Who’s found you?”
When Kay turned to look at Sarah again, his face had grown dark and grim. “The warlord of Greystone Valley.”
Three
“Greystone Valley? What’s that?”
“It’s where we are, of course,” Kay answered.
Sarah started to speak again, but Kay held up a hand to silence her.
From outside, a bellowing voice was speaking to the surrounding townsfolk. “I am Baelan, warlord of this valley and rightful ruler of Castle Greystone.” The man’s voice exuded confidence and authority. “I am looking for a boy named Kay. If you give me the wizard’s apprentice, I and my army will spare your village. You have ten minutes to meet my demands.”
“Would he really attack an entire village just to get to you?” Sarah asked.
She was answered by the cries of other people in the inn Kay had been staying at. “I know where the boy is,” one man shouted. “Someone tell Baelan to hold his forces! I’ll have this Kay to him in a minute.”
Kay gave Sarah a grim nod and a tip of his oversized hat. “It’s been wonderful meeting you, but I have to run for my life now.” Without another word, he tucked his spellbook under his arm, threw the door open, and started running.
“Hey, wait a minute!” cried Sarah, following the boy. “You’re the only person around here I know!”
Without thinking things entirely through, Sarah continued to follow Kay. Her vague objection about running around in her pajamas seemed minor all of a sudden. She stepped out of the room and onto a second-floor balcony that overlooked the dining room of a rustic medieval-style inn. People scrambled about every which way downstairs, and most of them were dressed in the same type of old-fashioned garb that Kay was—although none of them wore clothes that were quite as ill-fitting and ridiculous. A group of large men had started to run up the stairs, determined to seize Kay and deliver him to the warlord.
The closest thing she had to a guide was on the run, with no one to protect him. It occurred to Sarah that she could let Kay go and then find someone else to help her understand this dream. But then, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to make friends with anyone who would turn a young boy over to an army without a second thought. It seemed worse than leaving someone in the shape of a frog.
“Where are we going?” Sarah barely had time to collect her thoughts as she and Kay dashed down the hallway, only a few paces ahead of the gang coming up the stairs.
“You can go wherever you want,” said Kay, “but I plan on getting out of here.”
The boy kicked open a door and sighed with relief when he found no one waiting for him on the other side. He stepped into the empty bedroom and ran toward the frosted window.
“He’s up here, and he’s got someone with him,” came a shout from the men outside.
Sarah ran into the room, slammed the door, and slid the bolt into place. “Great,” she groaned. “Now they think I’m with you.”
“Don’t worry,” said Kay. “Once I’m out of here, I’m sure they’ll leave you be.”
“And how are you going to get out of here? Is there some sort of invisibility spell in that book of yours?”
“Probably, but I haven’t really studied up on it, so it’s too risky to use. I’ve got another plan.” Kay picked up a stool next to the bed. Summoning all of his strength, he threw the stool against the window, shattering the frosted glass and giving Sarah a clear look outside for the very first time.
Even with the men nearby trying to break down the locked door, the view was breathtaking enough to take Sarah’s mind off the chaos around her for a moment. The sky was cerulean blue, clearer than anything she had ever seen in the cloudy and smoke-filled city.
The houses of the surrounding village had thatched straw roofs, with stone walls serving as people’s fences. The land beyond the village—and it was a vast land—was green and wild. The grass grew as tall as Sarah’s knees, and the trees of the forest outside swayed without wind, teeming with all manner of unseen life. In the distance, a gigantic range of purple-gray mountains stood high on the horizon, like an impassable wall that kept the tiny jewel of the valley safe from the outside world.
But all was not peaceful within the valley. The ground shook under the weight of what must have been a hundred mounted soldiers. The armored troops surrounded the town, bows and swords ready to strike as soon as their leader’s time limit was up. Riding at the front of the forces was a tall, dark-haired man with a long wispy mustache. He wore green metal armor, with a breastplate that shone brightly even from a distance. The warlord didn’t seem to see Sarah and Kay, but Kay immediately shrank down and tried to hide anyway.
“Is that Baelan?” whispered Sarah.
Kay gave a start as he peered out the broken window. He didn’t seem to have expected Sarah to be so near. “Yes, that’s Baelan. He’s been hounding me for weeks, and now he’s finally tracked me down.”
“He’s not really going to destroy this village just to get at you, is he?”
“Not if I get out of here first. He’s not about to waste the energy.” The boy peered over the edge of the roof, mumbled something to himself, and jumped without so much as a warning. A badly shingled roof extended for a few feet just below the windowsill. The boy slid down the sloped roof and then dropped over the edge. He grabbed the eaves on his way down, slowing his fall enough to keep himself from being hurt.
“What an annoying boy,” muttered Sarah. “Whoever is after him must have a very good reason.” Still, as the men in the hallway nearly knocked the wooden door off its hinges, Sarah decided it was better to take her chances with him. Following Kay’s lead, she climbed through the broken window and balanced precariously on the short outcrop of roof outside.
At the edge of the village, some of the soldiers pointed in her direction.
The ground seemed to spin when she looked over the edge. Kay was already on his feet and ready to run. Sarah hesitated. The drop down was farther than she thought. It wouldn’t kill her, but it might break her legs, leaving her helpless while the black-armored soldiers closed around her.
“What’s there to be afraid of?” Sarah asked herself. “If worse comes to worst, you’ll just wake up. At least this will make a good story to tell Dr. Goldberg next week.”
With those words, Sarah let herself slip over the edge of the roof. She dangled on the eaves until her fingers got tired and then let herself fall. The drop wasn’t nearly as bad as she expected it to be, but the landing ended up being worse.
Kay had stopped in mid-stride and turned back to try to help her. The boy had moved underneath Sarah’s falling form, trying to catch her on the way down. Instead, he bungled it. Sarah landed hard on top of him, and the pair fell to the ground in an undignified heap.
Kay pulled Sarah to her feet and got her running almost immediately afterward, but Sarah’s attention was focused on something more unexpected.
“My leg hurts,” she said.
Luckily, the group of men they had left behind at the inn didn’t come running after them, and when Sarah and Kay had gotten far enough out of the village to stop and catch their breath, Sarah touched the tender area on her thigh. A wave of fresh pain surged through her leg. The area she had touched was soft and sore—no doubt badly bruised from her collision with Kay.
“Why are you still following me?” asked Kay. “Don’t you realize you’re putting yourself in dang
er?”
“My leg hurts,” said Sarah.
“So?”
“My leg hurts,” she repeated.
“Is it bleeding?”
“No.”
“Is it broken?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the problem? It will heal soon enough.”
“The problem is that it’s not supposed to hurt at all. You’re not supposed to feel pain in dreams.”
“Of course not. But who said you were dreaming, anyway?”
“It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
Kay screwed up his face into a puzzled expression. “What do you mean?”
“One moment, I’m sleeping in my bed at home, a few hours from eating Sunday breakfast with my mom. The next thing I know, I wake up in a strange bed, with a war going on around me, and I meet a boy who accidentally turns himself into a frog.”
“That last one’s me, right?”
“Of course it’s you!” Sarah felt her face grow red with frustration.
“Oh… good thing, then.” Kay scratched the back of his neck, somewhat embarrassed. “It would be really weird if you had met two people today who had made the exact same mistake. But I guess it would make me feel better. I mean, then I wouldn’t be the only one.”
“That’s not the point,” yelled Sarah. “The point is, none of this stuff is possible. I figured I had to be dreaming, but if I hurt myself, then I’m not dreaming.”
“It’s not that confusing,” muttered Kay. He looked nervously around him and stretched his legs, preparing for another run. “It’s just magic, is all.”
“What do you mean, it’s magic?”
“Well, you obviously came from somewhere far away. I mean, I don’t know what kind of clothing that is, but it’s obviously foreign.”
Sarah looked over her wrinkled pajamas. “It’s not foreign. These are just my pajamas.”
“Pajamas or not, they’re nothing I’ve ever seen before. Since you don’t know who Baelan is and didn’t realize you were in Greystone Valley, you’re obviously not from around here. So either someone summoned you here, you accidentally cast a spell that brought you here yourself, or it’s the magic of Greystone Valley itself. This isn’t just any old place, you know.”
Greystone Valley Page 2
