Gabriel Finley and the Raven’s Riddle

by George Hagen

  Paladin jumped and immediately felt his body stretch to a boy’s proportions. His toes felt ridiculously short, his arms weak and scrawny, but he liked being able to see directly in front for a change. Best of all, his trembling stopped.

  With chilled fingers, Gabriel clambered across the lap of Lady Justice until he arrived just below the eagle’s nest. Something crunched sharply beneath his feet. He looked down and saw many bones of small birds that had been eaten and discarded. His knees began to shake.

  How does one greet an eagle? he wondered.

  Be very polite! answered Paladin.

  “Hi! I’m Gabriel Finley,” said Gabriel.

  The voice that replied was sharp, powerful, and contemptuous.

  “I’m Tiberius.” The eagle looked him up and down. “I suppose the geese sent you?”

  “Pardon me? What geese?” said Gabriel.

  “The Romany Geese. Those cowards. They’ve been begging for the return of the druid stone for years,” muttered Tiberius.

  Interesting, thought Gabriel. Is the druid stone supposed to be returned to the Romany Geese? The verse never mentioned them.

  Please concentrate, Gabriel, interrupted Paladin.

  “Yes, the Romany Geese,” repeated Gabriel. “Any special reason why you don’t want them to have it?”

  “No special reason at all,” murmured Tiberius. “Geese have very little to say. Oh, they make a lot of noise, but it’s all for the attention. One could starve for lack of intelligent conversation with a goose. I would have given them the druid stone for a little chat or a joke or two.” The eagle coughed bitterly into his wing.

  “Really? You would have traded the stone for a joke?” asked Gabriel.

  Tiberius gave a long-suffering nod. “I didn’t choose this life. It’s lonely at the top. Nobody jokes, nobody laughs, nobody goofs around. I suppose that’s why I eat them.”

  The great bird tucked away a stray wing feather with his hooked beak.

  “What if I offered you a riddle for the stone?” Gabriel suggested.

  The eagle looked at him with interest. “It would have to be a good one, and if I guess it, no stone. Understood?”

  “Of course,” said Gabriel. “May I see the druid stone first?”

  The eagle regarded him with one disdainful eye. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “It’s only fair that you show me you have it.”

  “Fair,” repeated the eagle. “Creatures often use that word with me. This isn’t fair. That isn’t fair. Let me tell you, nothing in life is fair.” He sighed. “Well, I’m eager to hear your riddle, so I’ll make an exception.”

  Tiberius dipped his head into the nest. When he reappeared, a small amber stone glittered between the points of his beak. It was honey-colored and quite clear, with a curious sparkle in the center, almost as if a flame was burning deep inside. Gabriel was astonished by its beauty.

  The eagle placed the stone on the granite, just between his deadly claws.

  “Well, hurry up. Let’s hear it,” said the eagle. “And if I guess it, you lose!”

  At this point, Paladin asked Gabriel a silent question. And if we lose … then what?

  I don’t want to know, Gabriel replied while attempting to smile at the eagle.

  “Okay, it goes like this,” he said:

  “I shine like a dagger

  Or a diamond tooth in a dragon’s maw.

  I grow larger as the cold night comes,

  And shorter in the thaw.

  What am I?”

  A grave intensity settled in the eagle’s eyes, his black pupils flicking back and forth as he pondered.

  “A beak is like a dagger,” he declared. “But a beak doesn’t look like a diamond. Perhaps a claw? Hmm. Larger as the cold night comes and shorter in the thaw. What kind of dagger grows or shrinks? That doesn’t make sense.” He fell silent for another few seconds, then flexed his talons. “I’ve got it.”

  Gabriel’s heart sank. Tiberius looked so sure of himself.

  “The answer is nothing.”

  “Wrong,” said Gabriel, relieved. He reached up and took the druid stone.

  Surprised at Gabriel’s nerve, Tiberius rose from his nest, flexing his enormous wings. “You don’t understand,” he murmured gravely. “If I say the answer is nothing, then that is what it is. Nothing! Put the stone back!”

  “That’s not fair,” said Gabriel, keeping the stone behind his back.

  “Didn’t I tell you already that nothing is fair!” snapped the eagle.

  “Look, I’ll tell you the right answer,” Gabriel persisted, as he edged away. “An icicle is shaped like a dagger or a dragon’s tooth, it can be clear as a diamond, and it grows longer when it’s cold but shorter when it gets warm, because it melts, see? Icicle. That’s the answer!”

  The eagle blinked unforgivingly at Gabriel. “I am never wrong.”

  He leaped nearer the boy.

  Paladin, quick, it’s time to switch places! cried Gabriel anxiously.

  Before Paladin could reply, the eagle swiped one claw at Gabriel.

  Three bloody slashes appeared across his frozen wrist. Gabriel couldn’t feel the wound, but the blood flew against his shirt in bright red streaks.

  Hopping toward the boy, Tiberius uttered a menacing shriek. Gabriel sprang backward, but there was nothing beneath his feet. Now air was rushing past him. He was falling swiftly. Below, he saw the granite steps waiting like a death-bed. And above? Tiberius swooped, no kindness in his eyes, just the murderous stare of a raptor preparing to rip out the heart of his victim.

  Jump! cried a voice.

  But how do you jump when you’re falling?

  Jump, Gabriel! repeated Paladin.

  The eagle’s savage scream was an inch away.

  Suddenly, a bright amber light flashed from the palm of his hand.

  Gabriel blacked out.

  The Romany Geese

  Gabriel? Wake up!

  Opening his eyes, Gabriel found himself high above a barren salt marsh extending for miles along a shore. His first assumption was that the eagle was carrying him, but then he realized that he was actually flapping his own wings. Apparently he and Paladin had succeeded in exchanging bodies in midair—a pretty extraordinary feat in itself—as well as escaping the vicious bird.

  Now he became aware of a brightly glowing object in his right claw that seemed to be pulling him downward.

  Paladin? Where are we? he asked.

  I’m not sure, replied Paladin. But I think we’ve arrived.

  They spiraled toward a cove where gentle waves lapped the sand into soft ridges. On the ground, Gabriel separated from Paladin and stretched his arms and legs. A curlew cried a faint welcome. Gabriel examined the spot where Tiberius had slashed him, and the wound vanished before his eyes. The druid stone in his hand dimmed, retaining just a tiny trace of fire in its center.

  What about the eagle, Paladin? Why didn’t he catch us? Gabriel asked as they walked along the shoreline.

  I’ve been wondering that myself. I think it might be because of the druid stone. Do you remember me saying jump?

  Yes, said Gabriel, but that’s all I remember.

  Then you missed the best part! I flew down between the pillars and the eagle followed, and each time he caught up with me I dodged my way around another pillar. It was the strangest thing, Gabriel. I knew my way even though I had never been there before. The stone led me!

  But how did you get rid of Tiberius?

  Aha! said Paladin gleefully. An eagle may be bigger and stronger, but he can’t change direction like a raven. So finally, I did a high dive toward a pillar and turned at the last moment. Ha! You should have seen him fly into the granite. What a colossal thump! Old Tiberius flopped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  Paladin, that was incredibly brave, said Gabriel.

  The raven puffed out his neck feathers proudly. Well, yes, I suppose it was. Anyway, I was wondering how to find these Romany Geese and the stone began to
glow again, and suddenly, I knew which way to fly. No wonder they want it back.

  Across the stark beach they noticed figures dotting the landscape. Thousands of geese, but not like any Gabriel had seen before, watched the boy and his raven approach. Their heads were black; their long, graceful necks were striped; their bodies had a white circle upon the chest; and their wing feathers were speckled. Mute and elegant, the Romany Geese turned to observe their visitors.

  At that instant, they noticed one Romany Goose step forward and approach them. She had a graceful walk quite unlike a normal goose’s waddle.

  “You must be Gabriel and Paladin,” she said. “I am Ulyssa.”

  The goose’s voice was warm and very soothing. She blinked at them with large brown eyes.

  “You know our—”

  “Names? Yes, we’ve been expecting you!” She sounded like a motherly librarian, so accustomed to answering questions that she never needed to hear the whole sentence.

  “But I was almost eaten by—” began Paladin.

  “Tiberius? Oh, he would never be a match for Baldasarre’s grandson!”

  “Then you also knew I would—” began Gabriel.

  “Solve Baldasarre’s riddle? Of course we knew you’d find the druid stone! You’re Adam Finley’s son.”

  Gabriel enjoyed the compliment but felt frustrated that the goose kept guessing his questions, so he replied with the shortest question he could think of. “How?”

  “A boy raised on riddles and a smart raven: you’re a perfect pair. Naturally, it’s different from being knowledgeable, as we geese are.” Ulyssa betrayed a very smug little dimple in the corner of her beak.

  “Why is it diff—”

  “Because our wisdom comes from roaming. The stone has always led us. We know where the best saffron blooms grow, where the wolves nurse their young, where elephants go to grieve. I could tell you where to find the most beautiful orchids on five continents.”

  “Do you know where to find the torc?” asked Paladin.

  The goose’s amused dimple reappeared. “Oh, yes,” she said.

  “And my father?” said Gabriel anxiously.

  Ulyssa sighed. “I wish I could tell you, but you must follow the course you have begun. You have both proved yourselves uncommonly brave, which is Baldasarre’s first test,” she said. “May I have the druid stone?”

  “Here it is,” said Gabriel.

  The goose took the stone in her beak and promptly swallowed it. She smiled pleasantly. “A reward comes with the return of the druid stone. You must be very cold and hungry. Perhaps this would be the item you most desire?”

  A silver tureen appeared beside the goose. Steam curled from beneath the lid, promising something warm to eat. Gabriel’s stomach growled.

  Remember why we’re here! Paladin reminded him.

  “No thank you,” Gabriel said to the goose. “We’re trying to rescue my father, so the torc is what we’re looking for.”

  “Ah! Then you require this.” The goose turned her head to the left, and Gabriel saw a stick lying on the sand. It was roughly the length of a broomstick, twisted by age like a piece of driftwood. It didn’t look very special at all.

  “But isn’t the torc a necklace?” he asked.

  “So it is,” said Ulyssa. “But long ago, the raven Muninn used the torc’s magic to enchant a staff of ash wood. The staff is the only thing that can destroy a valraven. When the torc is wrapped around the staff, it will come to you when summoned.”

  Gabriel remembered his father discussing a staff with Corax on the moving postcard, but he felt disappointed. Such powers might be useful, but he still wished Ulyssa had offered him the torc. He was also very hungry.

  With a longing glance at the tureen, Gabriel turned to Ulyssa. “Well, thanks very much,” he said, picking up the stick.

  The moment he did so, hundreds and thousands of honks erupted across the beach. The geese who had been watching were giving their approval, gyrating their necks and clapping the sand with their webbed feet.

  “Very good,” said the goose, and smiled again. “Gabriel, you have passed the second part of the task. You are steadfast, and this quality will serve you well indeed! Take the staff in hand and remember its valuable gifts!”

  “So where exactly is the—”

  Ulyssa interrupted again. “I promised Baldasarre that I would abide by his wishes. I cannot lead you to the torc.”

  The goose turned to join her flock, which had already begun taking to the air. The graceful birds needed to flap their wings only once to get aloft.

  Gabriel looked doubtfully at the stick. Then he noticed that the silver tureen was still on the ground.

  “Oh, excuse me, you left your—”

  “Have something to eat before you go.” With a wink, Ulyssa raised her great wings and set off.

  The tureen happened to contain the very thing Gabriel most wished for: a bowl of steaming oatmeal studded with fresh blueberries, raspberries, and walnuts and drizzled with butter, maple syrup, and cream—perfect for a cold morning on the beach.

  Full-bellied and quite pleased with themselves, the boy and his raven had no sooner eaten than the tureen vanished. Far above the gray sea, they noticed the Romany Geese flying in a perfect V formation, honking a farewell.

  Gabriel looked at the staff and saw a slip of paper attached to it with a knot of string. He pulled it loose and was about to examine it when Paladin nudged him with his beak.

  “We’re not alone,” he said.

  In the distance, a white bird was approaching. Suddenly, a gentleman with snowy hair and a long coat materialized on the beach. When the bird landed on his shoulder, the man drew a mouse from his coat pocket and tossed it into his companion’s mouth, then waved at Gabriel.

  “I am so proud of you both!” cried Septimus. “Such bravery! To best an eagle is one thing. To win the trust of Romany Geese quite another!”

  “You saw it all?” said Gabriel. “You were following us?”

  Septimus put his hand to his heart. “My boy, I promised Adam Finley I would watch over his son like my very own.”

  “But I almost died!” said Gabriel.

  Septimus dismissed this remark with a wave of his hand. “Trust me, we were there to make sure you didn’t. Isn’t that so, Crawfin?”

  Crawfin cocked his head wryly at Septimus, but he said nothing.

  “What does that paper in your hand say? Let’s have a look.”

  Horned Assassins

  Gabriel unfolded the paper. It was covered with more of Baldasarre’s scratchy lettering, like a bird’s tracks in the sand. He read it aloud:

  “If my power you seek to claim,

  Beware my awful curse.

  I’ll trade the good that lies in you

  For something vastly worse.

  “My horned assassins guard me where

  The peacocks safely roam,

  Where lions roar near bleating lambs

  And mighty tigers moan.”

  “Clearly this explains the torc’s whereabouts,” said Septimus. “But where on earth do lions roar near bleating lambs?”

  “Well, that can only be a zoo,” said Gabriel.

  “And these horned assassins?” worried Septimus. “Who can they be?”

  “The little zoo in Brooklyn doesn’t have lions or tigers, but the Bronx Zoo does,” Gabriel replied. “I bet we’ll find horned animals there, too.”

  The dawn sky was a soft peach color, and the zoo felt strangely busy for such an hour. Dark forms paced back and forth along the fenced enclosures, emitting whoops, brays, barks, and wails. The cries of large cats merged into one grand chorus. Apes taunted and chuckled, as if they all knew that a riddle had summoned these visitors.

  They visited the rhino paddock, elks, ibex, goats, and water buffalo, but Gabriel sensed each time that they were on the wrong track. He turned the staff in his hand, wondering if there was a clue carved in its surface. It was very smooth, and strangely warm to the touch, but
it offered no answers. He consulted the piece of paper that had been attached to it.

  “Look,” he said to the others. “The verse says horned assassins. Well, water buffalo and goats aren’t really assassins.”

  “Gabriel,” said Paladin, “the bird that chased me over the river had horns.”

  “It was an owl, right?” said Gabriel

  “Yes. A great horned owl, I think.”

  Gabriel laughed. “That’s it! An owl! And what’s the best place to hide something from valravens? A place full of their worst enemies. Owls!”

  The Birds of Prey building was black and windowless. Paladin dug his talons nervously into Gabriel’s shoulder when they arrived at the entrance. “I can’t go in there,” he said.

  “I understand,” said Gabriel gently. “But you just outwitted an eagle.”

  “Only because I had the druid stone. This is much worse!”

  An idea popped into Gabriel’s head. “Look,” he said, “we’ll do exactly what we did with Tiberius. If you merge with me, the owls won’t even know you’re here.”

  “Splendid!” said Crawfin. “I’ll do the same with Septimus.”

  Gabriel and Septimus advanced through the eagle and hawk section and came to a room marked NOCTURNAL PREDATORS. Inside, it was pitch black, the air thick with dust and feathers. Gabriel noticed large eyes glittering in the darkness and felt a violent quiver of panic in his chest.

  Sorry, it’s just me, trembling, Paladin told him.

  But it wasn’t just Paladin; the staff vibrated so intensely it resembled the throb of a very low piano string. Something extremely important was in this room, something that excited the old gnarled piece of wood.

  Hostile hoots and suspicious whispers filled Gabriel’s ears. As he became accustomed to the darkness, he saw three very large owls sitting upon a tree limb. Their heads had pointed feathery tufts resembling horns, and they regarded him with keen scrutiny and sharp beaks. They were horned assassins, to be sure.

  Septimus gasped. “There it is!” He pointed to a bright object wrapped around the limb. It was a three-quarter necklace of dull silver, each end tipped with the head of a raven. Its cold blue glow was eerie and disturbing.