Jane and the Raven King

by Stephen Chambers

  She went to the bathroom and then looked in Michael’s room. He was already at his computer, checking his email.

  “Good morning,” Jane said.

  “Hi,” he said. “The pancakes smell good.” He was right; they did. “Is breakfast ready yet?”

  “I don’t know,” Jane said. “Michael, did anything happen last night?”

  He frowned. “Like what?”

  “After I went to bed, I thought—I guess I dreamed—that all kinds of things happened. Really weird things.”

  Michael shrugged and kept clicking his mouse. “They were just dreams,” he said.

  “Is Grandma Diana still here?”

  “I think so. She got stuck in the storm and couldn’t go back to her hotel, remember? I’m just glad the power is back on.”

  Their mother called from the kitchen, “Breakfast!”

  Michael hopped up, and they both went in to set the table. Already seated, Grandma Diana was drinking a cup of tea beside their father. He was flipping through the newspaper.

  “Good morning,” Grandma Diana said. “I trust we slept well.”

  Michael set the plates and glasses while Jane arranged the forks, knives, and spoons. Everything is back to normal, Jane thought. I’m so happy it wasn’t…why are there butterflies in my stomach?

  When they were all eating, Jane’s mother said, “Jane, is something wrong? I hope the storm didn’t keep you up.”

  Before Jane could answer, Michael said, “Mom, after breakfast, can I listen to the iPod again?”

  “We have a few errands to run today,” their mother said. “And Grandma Diana was talking about a trip to the park.”

  “Do we have to go to the park?” Michael asked.

  Grandma Diana smiled. “We don’t have to do anything, Michael. I thought it might be pleasant. I understand they have playground equipment.”

  “That’s only for little kids,” Michael said.

  “I’m sorry,” Jane said, swallowing. “I have the strangest feeling right now…”

  Her father touched her forehead. “Are you all right?” he said. “You look pale, Jane.”

  Jane coughed. Each time she breathed, her chest stuttered like a balloon that wouldn’t fill all the way. “Grandma Diana, the stone you gave me yesterday…” Jane wheezed. “In my dream last night, I used it to—”

  Her father grabbed her hand. “Jane! I don’t like the way she looks.”

  “I’m sorry, dear,” Grandma Diana said. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I don’t recall giving you a stone.”

  “A Wishing Stone,” Jane said, and she staggered into the hall. “I put it…” Her vision filled with spots.

  Behind her, Jane’s father said, “Call an ambulance! Jane, sit down!”

  “Under my…” Jane stumbled into her bedroom and collapsed at her bedside. She couldn’t hold her eyes open. She couldn’t catch her breath. Jane fumbled under her pillow. There was nothing there. It wasn’t real.

  It was, Jane thought. I know it was.

  Somewhere far away, Jane’s father was shouting, “—to the hospital right now!”

  Her mother was speaking on the phone, “…I don’t know—oh, God, she just fell…”

  Wake up, Jane told herself. She slumped forward and tried to breathe, but no air came. Wake up. Applepatch Mary has something to do with the trees that don’t think they are trees. What did Finn say back at the apple grove? Applepatch Mary tried to save the bobbins, but she couldn’t. I knew Gaius was hiding something—the bobbins didn’t die. The trees…

  Jane dropped to the floor. Wake. She imagined her hand moving the black knife. Up.

  Rain flared in Jane’s left wrist, and she cried out, sucking air, like a fish on the beach. She was back in the forest; she had stabbed herself with the knife. The trees were still squeezing her, waiting for her to stop breathing.

  “You should not be awake,” the wind moaned.

  “And you shouldn’t be trees,” Jane whispered. “You’re bobbins.”

  The branches let go, and Jane fell hard. She could breathe again. Coughing, she begged the bobbin-trees to release Manali and Finn. They did.

  “The Raven King turned you into trees,” Jane said, “didn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “But Applepatch Mary—” Jane tried to think as Finn and Manali regained consciousness. The Raven King didn’t kill the bobbins; he transformed them into hollow trees. And they were angry. “Mary couldn’t break the curse. You wanted her to change you back into bobbins, but she couldn’t do it. So she—” What? Jane thought. Get it right or this forest will crush us again. “Mary tried to help you live like trees. She taught you how to grow fruit, didn’t she?”

  “Make peace, Mary said. Accept that you are cursed.” The wind rose, and the entire forest screamed, “But we are warriors and defenders of Hotland!”

  “You are all bobbins,” Jane said. “If you let us go, I’ll fix this. I’ll make the Raven King change you back.”

  Finn murmured, “The only way to do that would be to defeat him…”

  “Do you swear it?”

  “I’ll do it,” Jane said. “Please…”

  The trees relaxed, and the branches moaned: “Mary saved this world, but she was a traitor to the bobbins. Do not betray us, Clear Eye.”

  Clear Eye? Jane thought, and she said, “I won’t. I promise.”

  They walked in silence until the trees ended on a steep slope of sharp rock at the base of the Steel Mountain.

  “That was brilliant,” Manali said. “Thank you, Jane.”

  I’m so tired, Jane thought. She stared up at the mountain. I have to stop and rest just for a minute. The Steel Mountain was the last marking on the Sharp Map. This is where Grandma Diana said the Raven King first fell into Hotland, and according to her letter, this is where she fought him. I saw this on the third spell paper. But the Steel Mountain was enormous, and the climb was straight up sheets of razor-sharp rock.

  “Now what?” Finn said.

  Jane found a handhold. The rock cut into her fingers. “Now we climb.”

  They climbed until Jane’s arms throbbed, and Manali begged her to take a break. But she didn’t let them stop. There isn’t time, Jane thought. When a slab of gray rock broke away under Finn, he threw himself at the side of the mountain, dragging all four sets of claws in the stone. The broken slab dropped, dropped, and smashed in half far below.

  Jane pulled herself higher, searched for another handhold. The rock cut a line of blood in her palm as she climbed up. Her muscles were trembling with the exertion. Cold sweat stung her eyes as she continued up.

  “I can’t…” Manali said below her. “Please, I have to stop…”

  Jane closed her eyes and pulled with both arms—and as her fingers slipped, she caught herself—but her arms wouldn’t work, and she sank back to her first perch. She tried again, crying out as she lost her handhold once more.

  “Be careful!” Manali said. “Jane!”

  “We have to keep going,” Jane said. Her hands were slick with blood and iron grime. “We have to…” She stared up at the mountain. It went on forever.

  Finn crawled up alongside Jane and then he rolled, huffing, onto a cliff above Jane’s head.

  I can’t do this, Jane thought. I’m sorry. I’m not as strong as Grandma Diana was—Manali’s right; I’m too tired.

  A claw grabbed Jane’s wrist, and before she could yelp, Finn pulled her onto the cliff beside him. There was a cave in the side of the mountain.

  This is it, Jane thought. We’re here!

  Finn helped Manali up, and they stepped into a vast cavern with walls that shimmered with flakes of red. The room was narrow and tall, and it ended at an empty black throne with red wings painted on the wall behind it—as if the chair were ready to fly away. The cave smelled like coal and ash. There was no way out.

  A dead end, Jane thought. This isn’t it, after all. Wait—there! She ran to the back wall: The mirror was embedded in
the rock, like a fly frozen in amber. It was as if the translucent stone had somehow formed around it.

  “There it is,” Jane said. “Finn, can you help me get it out? We have to break open the wall!” She found a heavy rock and smashed it against the stone. The rock cracked. “Manali, get another rock and—”

  “Jane…”

  Jane turned. “What?”

  Thomas stood in the cavern entrance, smiling.

  As Thomas approached, he said, “Is that it? Is that the Name of the World inside that wall?”

  Jane hammered with her rock again. A hunk of stone fell away, exposing the mirror’s handle. She grabbed the handle and pulled. The mirror budged, but it didn’t come out.

  Thomas was still wearing Grandma Diana’s armor. “I appreciate this,” he said. “You led me straight to it. The Raven King can’t see the Name of the World, but I can.”

  “Stay back!” Manali shouted. “Don’t—”

  Thomas raised one hand and said, “Nova shun!” A bolt of red light knocked Manali into the wall. She collapsed.

  “It’ll take more than a flashlight to handle me, boy,” Finn said. “You’re about to tango with a dragon.”

  “Really?” Thomas pointed at the ceiling. He called, “Nova shun!” again, and the red light ripped stalactites away in an avalanche that buried Finn.

  Jane pulled harder on the mirror’s handle. Still it wouldn’t break free. Come on!

  “The Raven King’s magic is much more powerful than Gaius’s little spells,” Thomas said. “I can use this spell over and over and over again. But you’re all out of spells, aren’t you? That’s too bad.”

  Jane braced all of her weight on the handle, but it was no use.

  Thomas raised his hand. “Nova shun!”

  Pain exploded in Jane’s eyes, and she fell against the wall. Her chest felt like it was on fire.

  “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” Thomas said. He picked up a rock and began to chisel out the Name of the World from inside the wall. “First, I’m going to take this mirror out. And then, I’m going to kill you and your friends.”

  Jane tasted blood.

  “There.” The mirror broke free. Thomas frowned as he examined it. “This is what all the fuss was about? I’ve got to be honest, I’m a little disappointed. After all of that, I figured it would be something more dramatic, you know?” He raised his foot at Jane’s face. “You know what? I’ve wanted to kick in your head since the day we met.”

  Thomas brought down his heel, and Jane grabbed his ankle and twisted hard. He fell with a startled shout. The Name of the World clattered to the ground.

  “You stupid…” Thomas raised his hand. “Nova—”

  Jane grabbed the Name of the World.

  “—shun!”

  The red light bounced off the mirror and hit Thomas’s face. He shouted and flopped backward.

  Slowly Jane stood, wincing at the pain in her chest. I have it! she thought. Now where is—?

  The throne wasn’t empty after all.

  The Raven King watched with his hands folded. Jane couldn’t see his face, but a hooked beak curled out where his mouth and nose should have been. A small gray tree grew on his left side, and the mannequin of Grandma Diana—with blue marble eyes and a frozen face—was propped on his right side. Sansi covered the walls of the cavern; they blocked the exit. They moaned like a dying ocean.

  “Put that down,” the Raven King said. He sounded bored. Jane felt younger as she approached. The Raven King is so old and cruel, she thought, and who am I? I’m a little girl—that’s all.

  “You,” Jane said. She tried to sound brave. “You have to…let us go and—”

  “Put it down,” the Raven King said. “I will not ask again.”

  “I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

  The Raven King was suddenly standing. “Yes, you are.” There were black wings on his back. Jane heard distant bells, like a funeral at a cathedral. There were bugs crawling all over the floor and across Jane’s shoes. She tried not to look at them.

  “I can stop you,” Jane said.

  “You can?”

  Why isn’t he scared? she thought. He can’t see it—remember, the Raven King doesn’t even know what the Name of the World is. Jane’s stomach spun in circles, her hands shook, and her legs felt weak.

  “My grandmother beat you…”

  “Yet, here I am,” he said.

  “You have to stop.”

  The Raven King was right in front of her. Jane smelled rotten fruit, and she tasted glue. There was cold terror in her belly. Her legs and arms and heart—every part of her wanted to run. She heard her pulse in both ears. She was breathing too fast.

  “You are about to die, Jane,” the Raven King said. “Just like your grandmother.”

  Jane raised the Name of the World—and he knocked it away. The mirror hit the wall and shattered into a thousand pieces.

  No.

  Jane stared at the slivers of broken glass all over the cavern floor. The tension in her stomach jumped to her chest, and she felt tears behind her eyes. She drew the black knife—but what was the point? I’ve gone through so much, she thought. I came all this way for nothing. The Name of the World is ruined. I can’t fight him now. I can’t do anything.

  She looked at the rocks that had buried Finn and at Manali, who was still paralyzed on the floor. Jane felt dizzy. I won’t cry, she told herself. The knife trembled in her hand. But this was really happening: She had lost. It was over.

  “It’s all right,” the Raven King said. “You tried your best, but you are unarmed and helpless.” When he touched Jane’s shoulder, she started to cry. She couldn’t move; she couldn’t speak. Behind her, the sansi were creeping closer.

  A hole opened in the ceiling of the cavern. The sky was blue with puffy white clouds. That’s topside Earth, Jane thought. That’s the real world. The Raven King is about to go up there and turn everyone into his sansi slaves. He’ll burn the cities the way he burned the Purple Marsh, and soon, everything will be brown and dead.

  “Now that it’s over,” the Raven King said, “will you help me?”

  Jane stumbled backward. “What?”

  “You don’t have to die here, Jane. The world will be clean and ordered again. There are still children hiding from me—the ones who didn’t hear my electric songs. But you and I know that they can’t win. They belong to me. If you help me find them, I will give you anything you want. You must be hungry…” Behind the Raven King, there was suddenly a table full of food. Jane saw a Thanksgiving turkey, waffles, tacos, and chicken vindaloo. “And you like to read, don’t you?” Full bookshelves—as tall as houses—appeared around the table. “Anything.” Televisions and beanbag chairs and computers grew out of the cave floor.

  “You can have anything in the world,” the Raven King said. “Do you remember all those children at school who made fun of you? Do you remember the teachers who didn’t like you? You can be the most popular person in school, Jane. You can be a queen. They’ll worship you like a god. You can get back at them all if you want to.”

  Jane’s mouth was dry as she continued to back away. Flies buzzed in her ears. Even though she could smell the wonderful food on the table, Jane could still taste something rotten on the back of her tongue, as if there were garbage buried under the floor.

  “And I will give you one more thing if you help me, Jane,” the Raven King said. “You can have your family back. I will spare your parents and your brother and even your grandmother. I’m offering you a good life. The Name of the World is gone. The mirror is destroyed. You have nothing. You can’t win—but you don’t have to lose. Will you help me?”

  One hand tight on the black knife, Jane wiped sweat from her eyes. He’s right, she thought. I can’t win now, but I can save my family. It’s the smart thing to do, isn’t it? Then why won’t my arms stop shaking, and why won’t my heartbeat slow down? I have to do what he wants to save Michael, Mom, and Dad—and Grandma Diana. She op
ened her mouth to say yes.

  “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, Jane?” the Raven King said. “You want everything to go back to normal—but this will be even better than that.”

  Jane stared at the shattered fragments of the mirror. The Name of the World is broken, she thought. I have to help my family. Jane saw herself reflected in the glass shards, bloodied and dirt-streaked, the knife in one hand. The blade was bright in the reflection, as if the Sharp Map were white-hot. Strange, but she didn’t have time to think. Who would that make me if I help the Raven King? No. I still have the black knife. I have to fight him, Jane told herself, even though I’m going to lose—because otherwise, what good is it to be alive? Everything in the world may be chaos, but there’s still right and wrong.

  Jane raised her knife and said, “No.”

  The cavern was empty again; the food, the bookshelves, the televisions—all of it was gone. The ceiling hole closed.

  “I’m sorry, Jane,” the Raven King said. “It’s over.”

  He opened his hand, and a black beam lanced at Jane—she turned and tripped over Thomas, and Grandma Diana’s armor stopped the black light.

  The Raven King was standing over her, his voice calm, “You are unarmed. And you are a fool.” He leaned down slowly, his dark fingers reaching closer. “It will be over soon, child.”

  Jane tried to crawl backward, but when his hand touched her cheek, ice jolted in her heart and caught her breath. The world flashed black in a frozen rush that flooded Jane’s chest, stomach, arms, and legs, up to her throat. She tried to scream, tasted blood, and drove the knife into the Raven King’s chest. As he recoiled, air surged back into Jane’s lungs, washing away the cold. The Raven King jerked, as if he’d been struck by lightning, and when she pulled out the blade, he screamed—it wasn’t a human noise; it was the screech of a bird being crushed by a car. She stabbed him again. The Raven King exploded into a cloud of black birds that cawed and flapped in a whirlwind, thundering out of the cave.

  The Raven King saw the mirror, Jane realized. That meant the mirror couldn’t be the Name of the World. But the Raven King didn’t see the black knife. Then what was the mirror? The broken pieces of the mirror should have reflected the ceiling or the walls; instead, they had reflected the black knife. She dropped the knife and slumped to her knees. Her hands were streaked with black blood. She smelled a zoo.