Finn said, “The Old Wall is the only thing still standing in Hotland that was here before the Raven King. Nobody knows who built it or why.”
Jane looked at her knife again. The first picture was a series of horizontal lines. And there it is, she thought. The Old Wall. We’re almost there.
The top of the Old Wall was as wide as a big river. On the western side, behind them, the daylight was hazy, and the ground was dust and weeds for miles. The eastern side of the Old Wall was different. Ahead the sky was black. Far below, the ground squirmed, as if it were covered with tin-colored earthworms. Lightning snarled through the blackness, and Jane glimpsed something—a giant tree?—standing on the distant plain. There was no thunder.
Jane’s palms were sweaty, and every time the unnatural lightning flashed, she heard her heartbeat in both ears.
“Are you scared?” Manali asked quietly.
Jane’s fingers were trembling, so she clasped her hands together. “No.”
“I am.”
I don’t want to do this, Jane thought. I just want to go back home and live a normal life. I don’t even care if kids make fun of me at school or if Mrs. Alterman is angry because I didn’t get my spelling test signed. I just want this all to be a dream. I want to wake up.
“Are you ready?” Finn said.
Lightning flashed again, like a white-hot sword in ink.
Manali squeezed her hand, and Jane said, “Yes, let’s go.”
They flew into the darkness. The air was hot and thick, like dirty soup. Lightning flashed overhead, and Finn flew lower so Jane had a better view of the ground. At first she thought it was covered with snakes or worms…but it wasn’t. They were pipes. The ground was a nest of iron pipes with gaping ends that looked like suckers or mouths. Jane shivered.
Lightning struck the ground with an electric charge that made Jane jump. All the hair on her head and along the backs of her arms frizzed and stood up. Finn flew faster and closer to the ground. Jane heard the pipes creaking and whining, like the joints of a mechanical animal. The pipes were reaching up. It’s my imagination, she thought. But it wasn’t; the pipes were trying to reach Finn.
In another lightning flash, she saw that the tree shape ahead was actually a colossal hand blocking their path. As big as a mountain, the rust-iron hand was frozen as if someone—something—had been buried while he was reaching for the sky. We’re too close! Jane thought. If we don’t go up, we’ll crash into the wrist!
Finn pulled up, beating his wings so hard that Manali slid backward and Jane screamed, “Finn!” They raced higher, rushing over the palm of the hand, toward a gap between the thumb and forefinger.
“Almost there!” Finn shouted. “Don’t let—”
Lightning struck his wing.
Like a bug hit by a flyswatter, Finn dropped.
Manali yelled, “Jane!” and rolled off. They weren’t high above the hand’s palm—maybe ten feet—but they were moving fast, and as Jane fell with Finn, the metal hit her shoulder hard. She cartwheeled and bounced—and stopped.
Jane’s right leg was dangling off the edge of the palm, one hundred feet above the swarm of pipes.
“Jane, are you okay?”
Jane rolled away from the edge, and Manali helped her up. Jane was bruised and her elbow throbbed, but nothing seemed broken. She could walk. Finn was worse. He slumped against the hand’s thumb, his right wing shredded and smoking. He groaned as he sat up.
“Is everyone all right?” he called. “Everyone but me, I mean…?”
“We’re okay,” Jane said. “Are you hurt?”
“Of course I’m hurt. I got struck by lightning.” Finn smiled and twisted his broken wing onto his back. “We were lucky. If that had hit us over the pipes, we’d be worm food by now.”
“What are they?” Jane asked.
“The pipes? On topside Earth, pipes swallow just about anything you put in them—water, food, you name it. This is where all those pipes come out. But these pipes haven’t eaten anything in a long time, so they’re hungry.”
“Lucky we landed up here,” Manali said.
“Lucky for now,” Finn said. “This is the Tolec Hand. A long time ago, the Tolec Giants tried to take over Hotland. The Raven King didn’t let them.”
Lightning flashed, and in the light, Jane saw that the blanket of pipes ended at a curl of pale ground ahead. It’s so close, she thought. But it was still too far away to jump or glide to—and they were too high anyway.
“The thing is,” Finn said, “the giants were made out of metal. Do you know what happens when electricity touches metal?”
“Metal conducts electricity,” Jane said.
“Exactly. Which means the next time lightning strikes this hand, we’ll all be fried to a crisp.”
Manali said, “Are you sure you can’t fly? Can we jump or glide or something?”
Finn checked the distance across the last pipes. “No. It’s too far.” Lightning zapped a nearby pipe in a burst of sparks that shook the hand. “But I guess we have to try. Get on my back—quickly!”
Manali climbed up, but Jane didn’t move.
“Did you feel that?” she said.
“Jane, get on,” Manali said.
“Are the Tolec Giants dead?” Jane asked. “Is this hand connected to a body underground?”
“I have no idea,” Finn said. “Now hop on.”
“Listen, I don’t think we can jump that far. You hurt your wing.”
Finn said, “We don’t have a choice.”
“Tickle him,” Jane said. “Blow fire on his fingertips.”
“Are you joking?”
“It’s too far,” Jane said. Lightning snapped and just barely missed the pinky finger. The hand shook again. “See?” Jane said. “Come on, Finn. Tickle his fingers!”
When Finn started to protest, Manali said, “Jane’s right, Finn. Give it a try.”
Finn took a deep breath that puffed out his chest like a bird and then leaned forward, as if he were sneezing in slow motion. Fire shot out of his mouth like water from a garden hose. The flames sprayed over the tip of the thumb, curling in waves around the enormous fingernail. The hand shuddered; the fingers flexed down.
Lightning flashed behind them. We’re almost out of time, Jane thought. Move, you stupid giant! Move! Slowly the forefinger curled down, down—until the tip touched the giant palm at the base of the thumb…
Manali shouted, “Jane!” and Jane scrambled onto Finn’s back as the gigantic forefinger flicked them off. Finn grunted as the fingertip walloped his butt, and they were thrown like a piece of fluff. Finn flapped his good wing, and they spun in a crazy loop as lightning flashed on both sides. The pipes rushed closer, closer—and Finn made it over, crash-landing on the smooth rock.
Finn was upside down, but the pale ground reflected his right-side up reflection. “Nice idea,” he grunted.
“We’re alive, aren’t we?” Jane said. Something about the reflection bothered her.
Manali brushed herself off. “Well done, Jane. Seriously, we never would have made that jump.”
Finn rolled over. Behind them, the Tolec Hand lit up as lightning struck it.
“Manali is right,” he said. “A-plus, Jane.”
Ahead the pale ground went on and on as far as they could see. It was reflective like glass but murky like frozen milk, and it was completely flat. The sky was still black, but the lightning was behind them now.
Jane checked the knife. The horizontal lines represented the Old Wall; the dot with five lines was the Tolec Hand. Next came a circle. Just a circle.
“This is the Stone Lake,” Finn said. “I think we should be able to walk straight across.”
“I can’t see the other side,” Manali said. “Are you sure?”
Jane said, “It’s a circle on the Sharp Map…”
“Hop on,” Finn said. “Let’s keep moving.”
As they started across the Stone Lake, Jane watched their reflections. What kind of rock could make
a reflection like that? She realized what was bothering her about it: The stone only reflected them. The stone surface should have been black from reflecting the sky—but instead it was white.
“I don’t like this,” Jane said. “Why is it called the Stone Lake? Doesn’t a lake have water?”
“How should I know?” Finn said.
Jane stiffened. “I was just asking.”
“I only know it’s called the Stone Lake,” Finn said. “That’s it.”
“Fine,” Manali said. “Geez.”
The way Manali said that irritated Jane, as if Manali thought both of them were stupid.
“You know, you can go back if you’re still scared,” Jane said.
Manali smirked. “Why? Because you don’t need me all of a sudden? You’re the savior who is going to fix everything all by yourself? You sure needed me a little while ago, when you called me in Mumbai. At Castle Alsod, I only let you sit with me because I felt sorry for you—not because I like you.”
“You’re right,” Jane said. “I don’t need you. You’re not the one who has to fight the Raven King. You’re just going to stand back and watch.”
Finn shook, like a wet dog, and they went tumbling off his back. “I can’t stand listening to you two,” he said. “Find your own way across.” He turned back. “I’m not a baby-sitter.”
“No, you’re a big dumb dog,” Manali said, “and you can’t even fly straight.”
“And you’re a brat,” Finn said—and then to Jane, “But Manali isn’t as bad as you. We’re all going to die here because of you.”
“I didn’t ask you to come along,” Jane said. “You came to me, remember? Do you think I want to do this?”
“Then why are you here?” Finn said. “You don’t have any more spells, and the Name of the World might not even be at the Steel Mountain. The Raven King is probably just sitting there waiting for us. Did you think of that?”
“Of course she did,” Manali said. “She’s thought of everything, yeah? She’s the savior.”
“And you’re just the stuck-up sidekick,” Jane said. “You just came along to watch me die, yeah?”
Manali reddened. “Shut up, Jane.”
Jane raised her fist. “Shut up, Jane.”
Manali said, “Put your stupid hand down.”
Finn huffed flames. “Maybe I should just drop-kick both of you back to those hungry-hungry pipes. Like this…”
Jane noticed something, and she shouted, “Wait!���
They stopped. Jane looked back at their reflections. In the reflected stone, Jane and Manali were still riding on Finn’s back, casually talking. When Jane saw the image on the Stone Lake, her mind cleared like someone with blurry vision putting on glasses.
Jane murmured, “What are we doing?”
Manali laughed. “I’m going to break your nose.”
Jane pointed at the ground. “Look.”
Now Finn saw it too. He said, “Don’t argue please. Climb on.”
They did.
“Keep watching it,” Finn said. “Don’t look away from the stone. You have to do what your reflection does or you’ll stop being you. The Stone Lake will twist your personality…”
So Jane watched, and when the reflection-Jane raised her hand to brush back her hair, Jane raised her hand to brush back her hair. When Jane’s reflection spoke silently to Manali, Jane apologized, and Manali—still watching her own reflection—said, “I’m sorry too.”
“Me three,” Finn said, imitating his reflection. “And I can already see the other side. We’re across!”
As the girls rode Finn off the pale stone, a chill passed across the back of Jane’s neck. There is it, she thought. The vertical lines…
A skeletal forest grew at the bottom of a jagged black mountain. It was the same mountain Jane had seen in the third spell paper. To get there, they would have to go through this forest. There was no dirt; the trees grew right out of the iron-slab ground like street poles. The forest was leafless and gray, and when a cold wind rushed down from the top of the mountain, the trees rattled crisp-crisp, moaning like a thousand sad voices.
Manali said, “Finn, are you absolutely certain you can’t fly?”
“I wish I could,” he said.
Manali looked at Jane. “I’m sorry—I am scared. I don’t want to go through this forest.”
“I didn’t mean what I said before,” Jane said. “But I don’t think there’s another way up. The Sharp Map shows these up-and-down lines. I think they’re supposed to be trees.”
Manali stared at the gray forest. “They don‘t look like trees—they look like bones.”
Finn said, “Jane’s right. There’s no way around if we want to go up the Steel Mountain.”
Jane approached the edge of the forest. “Does this place have a name, Finn?”
“I think it’s called the Forgotten Woods. It has some connection to someone in your family. Not to Diana Starlight—to someone long before your grandmother.” He frowned. “I can’t remember.”
“Whoever made this knife went through this forest,” Jane said. “That means we can make it too.”
The wind howled again. The trees swayed with a noise that sounded like crying, and Jane heard the word, “Mary…”
“Right-o,” Finn said to Jane. “You go first.”
As Jane stepped between the first trees, the air got colder. Manali and Finn were right behind her. Mary, Jane thought. Who is she, and why does that name sound familiar? The forest constricted, as if the trees were creeping closer. But that’s silly, Jane told herself. Trees can’t move. Then she remembered the grove of apple trees back at the bobbin ruins—the place she’d hidden from the kangaroo. Those trees had thrown apples. There Jane had uncovered an old statue of a girl wearing an armored chest plate and ancient clothing, holding an apple and…a black knife. The Sharp Map. The girl in that statue was called Applepatch Mary, Jane thought. And Traitor had been carved over the statue’s plaque…
Jane said, “Finn, who was Applepatch Mary?”
The wind shook, and the overhead branches scraped like claws. The forest moaned, “Go away!”
“She’s the one connected to this forest,” Finn said. “But I can’t remember what she did. Anyway, there are no apples here.”
The wind cried, “She betrayed us!”
Manali said, “Did you hear that? It sounds like the wind is talking.”
The trees were close now, and Jane ducked under a low branch.
“Maybe there is another way around,” Finn said. “I don’t think the trees want us here.”
“I don’t understand,” Jane said as she walked deeper. “Why would the trees be angry?”
The wind howled. A branch smacked the back of Finn’s head, and as he yelped, a second branch snared his tail. A third branch pinned his front legs. “Hey!” he shouted. “Let go!”
“We are not trees!” the wind screamed.
Manali said, “Finn’s right—this forest is crazy! We should go back!”
But Jane stood her ground. “Of course you’re trees…”
As the trees pushed Finn to the ground, he said, “I’ll burn you all down if you don’t let go!”
A branch snapped around his snout, like a muzzle. “Stop it!” Jane said, and she drew the black knife.
A low branch pulled Manali into the air—“Jane!”—and the trees leaned closer to Jane. Finn thrashed, but each time he was about to break free, more branches latched onto him. A tree limb cracked open, and a white mist, like powder or pollen, coated Finn’s head. He closed his eyes and fell limp, like a sack of potatoes.
“Let him go!” Jane said. A branch snagged her shirtsleeve, and she twisted away. “I’m warning you!”
The wind moaned, “Forbidden! Traitor!”
Overhead, Manali shouted, “Run, Jane!”
No, Jane thought. I will not run from these trees! This is the only way through. It’s on the Sharp Map.
Another limb split open above Manali, a
nd white dust sprinkled her face. She slumped and stopped struggling.
A tree limb coiled like a thick rope around Jane’s wrist. When she tried to hack at it with the knife, another branch slapped her arm down. Roots swallowed Jane’s feet. Now a branch hugged her waist, and she couldn’t move her arms. She was trapped.
The trees shook. “We are cursed.” Branches were squeezing Jane’s chest too tightly. “We do not want to grow.”
She tried to move her left hand and the knife, but her wrist was twisted down; if she struggled, the blade would stab her own arm, not the branches.
“We want justice, not peace.”
“Please,” Jane gasped. “Stop!”
“Sleep,” the wind murmured. A branch snapped over Jane’s face, and the powder—it smelled like sap and flowers—covered her face. She held her breath. “And never wake up.”
At last she couldn’t help it. Jane gasped for air. She breathed deep, swallowing the powder, and the forest was—
Jane? Jane, it’s time to wake up.”
“Huh?” Jane sat up in bed. Early morning sunlight filled her bedroom. Her father was smiling in the doorway dressed in his navy blue robe and pink bunny slippers.
“You sounded like you were having some serious dreams,” he said.
Jane didn’t know what to say. Her bedroom looked just like it always did. There was the usual mess of books, papers, and clothes. And there was Iz, safe and sound in his glass iguana tank.
“Is everything okay?” her father asked.
She wiped sleep from her eyes and put her bare feet on the carpet. It felt real. A moment ago she had been in a talking forest with a dragon and a girl from India…A dream. All of it was a dream. Of course it was.
“Everything is fine,” Jane said.
“Good,” her father said. “Mom is making pancakes. They should be ready in a few.”
After he left, she heard him knock on Michael’s door to wake him up. Jane’s pulse was still racing, and she could almost feel the trees grabbing her arms. She rubbed her wrists, clapped her hands, and smiled. There was no Raven King or Hotland. It was all imaginary. But it had felt so real.
Jane and the Raven King Page 13
