“Indeed,” said Bonifer, “but I’ve as much right to speak as you, Bunge. I was born here. My accent may be Annieran, but my blood is as Hollish as yours.”
Bunge shook his head with impatience. “What do you have to say?”
“Oskar N. Reteep and I have spent hours in the library, as you may know. And we wanted to be sure you were upholding article seven of the Chumply Amendment.”
Bunge blinked. “Er, what in Aerwiar is that supposed to mean?”
“In the words of Chumply himself,” said Oskar, “‘You can’t just executeroyalty, you piggish brute.’”
“We can execute anyone we like,” Bunge growled.
“Not true,” said Bonifer. “You may only banish them. Article seven of the Chumply Amendment of the year 115 of the Second Epoch clearly states that in cases concerning royalty, even in cases of kidnap and murder, you may exile but not execute.”
“Lies! I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“How surprising,” said Bonifer dryly. “This is such a common situation, and your knowledge of Hollish law issoextensive since you’ve been the Keeper for—what is it, twenty hours? Forgive me, I meant to say thetemporaryKeeper for twenty hours. When Rudric returns, you’ll be just another Durgan Patrolman under his command. In the meantime, it would behoove you to obey the laws of the Hollows, would it not? Mister Reteep, please show thetemporary Keeper the document.”
“Gladly.” Oskar handed a wrinkled parchment to Bunge, who hardly looked at it. Oskar winked at Janner. He had smudges of ink on his fingers and a devious look in his eyes.
Bonifer hobbled around to face the crowd. “Since thetrueKeeper is absent,and since the little girl has not been found, and since the laws of this land clearly forbid it, I think it is in your best interest to stay this execution in favor of banishment. Deliver the Wingfeathers to me, Bunge. I have a skiff waiting at the harbor.”
Bunge thrust the parchment at one of the council members. The seven chiefs from the seven districts looked it over, then shrugged at Bunge. He sighed. “Very well. Banishment is just as good.”
Bonifer bowed his head and smiled. He was ancient, but he had managed to change Kalmar’s fate with just a few words. If Janner’s arms weren’t tied, he would have hugged the little man.
“No!” cried Freva. Her voice was ragged from weeping. “That thing killed me baby! What’s become of us, to let a Grey Fang in our borders, to let it go to our school, to let it loose in the city? Andsee what happens!” Freva was mad with grief. All her sadness had turned into a red-faced fury. “That monster will eat your young, as it did my Bonnie! Execute the beast!”
“EXECUTE IT!” the crowd roared, louder than before.
Bonifer’s face paled.
Nibbick Bunge smiled at the Wingfeathers. He took the parchment from the council, tore it to pieces, and threw the tatters in Bonifer’s face. “Raise the gallows!” he shouted, and two men who looked like sailors pushed through the crowd with coils of rope slung over their shoulders.
Bonifer looked at Bunge, then at the ropes, then at the Wingfeathers—then he snatched the satchel from Oskar and ran.
He moved faster than Janner thought a man in his eighties could move. His top hat bobbed among the crowd as he dashed for the exit. The chanting Hollowsfolk ignored him.
Janner had no time to wonder where the old man was going, because all his attention was on the nooses the men were fashioning out of the ropes—nooses that would soon kill Nia and Kalmar.
While he watched, several other men disappeared through a side door and reemerged with planks, hammers, and stakes. Bunge sat on Rudric’s throne and watched with a look of satisfaction while the builders assembled the structure. The wood was dusty with disuse, and the men argued with one another and turned the planks this way and that, trying to remember how it fit together. However bloodthirsty the Hollowsfolk were now, it seemed a formal execution wasn’t a regular occurrence.
Podo roared and strained against his ropes, and Janner thought he might actually break them. He bellowed and kicked at the guards as they held him down, until Bunge gave the order for him to be gagged and tied with more rope. It took eight men to subdue him. When Podo’s strength was gone, he slumped in his seat and fought to breathe. With his hair unkempt, his gag foamed with spittle, and his tunic drenched with sweat, he looked like a madman. Nia leaned against him and kissed his cheek, and Podo wept.
Oskar hurried over and knelt in front of Nia. “Your Highness! I don’t know what to do!”
“It’s all right, Oskar,” Nia said. “Will you loosen the king’s muzzle?”
The guards were busy keeping the crowd at bay and making room for the gallows, so if they noticed they said nothing. Oskar threw the muzzle aside.
“Kalmar,” Nia said, “I don’t believe you took little Bonnie.”
“Thanks,” he said in a small voice.
Nia smiled. “I don’t know what happened, but this isn’t the time to talk about it. We don’t have much time left. I just want you to know that I love you. I love you and I don’t regret vouching for you. I’d do it again.” Nia kissed him and turned to Podo, Janner, and Leeli. “Papa, children, if they go through with this, please don’t blame them. The Hollowsfolk are just decieved. It’s Gnag who’s to blame. His poison has embittered them, and it will take great mercy to undo that. I know you’re going to want to leave here, but stay. Your presence will remind the people of this treachery and will convict their hearts in the years to come. They must remember what happens here today, and reckon with it, and be humbled. Only then will their hearts soften. That’s what your father would have you do.”
Leeli wept and put her arms around Nia and Kal. Janner and Nia were still tied and could only lean on one another as the gallows took shape.
The chanting abated, and though most of the city was crammed into the great hall, the room was silent except for the hammering of pegs and stakes into the structure. The nearer the platform was to completion, the heavier the air in the room felt, and it seemed to Janner that the Hollowsfolk were only now considering that they were executing not only a Grey Fang but the queen of Anniera too. But a reawakening of conscience was not enough to stop what was set in motion. The Hollowsfolk had pushed forward a judgment and were unwilling to withdraw it.
At last, one of the guards climbed the rickety steps and raised the trapdoor that stretched beneath the two nooses. The platform creaked and wobbled, but it was strong enough for a little wolf and his mother. Nibbick Bunge and the seven chiefs stepped forward with grave expression and looked out at the Hollowsfolk.
Nibbick spoke. “Citizens of Ban Rona, the council has decided to bring judgment on the Grey Fang before you. For the charges of animal thievery, unlawful animal slaughter, and—” Bunge glanced at Freva “—murder, we sentence you to death. May you suffer greatly, Grey Fang. When you turn to dust, I look forward to sweeping you from this hall.” Janner felt Kalmar trembling as Nibbick spoke. “And you, Nia Igiby Wingfeather, because you have invokedturalay, you are to be executed with him. He was yours to keep, and your failure resulted in the death of Freva’s daughter.”
Bunge gestured at the guards, and they pulled Nia and Kalmar to their feet. Podo moaned and tried to stand, but another guard pushed him to his seat. Janner scanned the crowd for Bonifer, hoping the old man had come back, hoping he had concocted some new plan to rescue them. But the top hat was nowhere to be seen.
The guard cut the bonds around Kalmar’s ankles and pointed him up the gallows steps. Janner heard Nia whisper, “Be strong, my love.”
They reached the top, and one of the guards positioned them over the trapdoor. He draped a noose over Kalmar’s head, then Nia’s. Bunge climbed the steps after them with a dark look, and Janner thought he saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Perhaps he was thinking of Rudric’s return and the fury that was sure to descend upon him.
Bunge stood between the condemned and cleared his throat. “Have you anything to say, Fang?”
“His name is Kalmar Wingfeather,” Nia said.
Bunge spat. “His name is murderer. Fang, have you anything to say?”
“I took the animals,” Kalmar said in a small voice.
“If you’re going to speak, son, speak up,” Nia said.
Kalmar cleared his throat and spoke in a clear voice. “I took the animals. I’m sorry about that. But I didn’t take the girl! I thought Bonnie was wonderful, and I’d never hurt her. Or anyone else. Someone else took her, and for that matter she may not be dead. I hope when you’re finished with me you’ll look for her. I’m sorry about the animals.”
“And have you anything to say, Your Highness?” Bunge said.
“Your actions condemn you. The Maker sees all.” Nia’s gaze swept across the room, then she nodded at Bunge. “I’m finished.”
“Then by the authority of the seven chiefs of the council, and for crimes against the citizens of the Green Hollows, I give you over to execution.” Bunge reached for the lever to release the trapdoors.
“Please, sir,” Leeli said, limping up the steps with her whistleharp in one hand.
Bunge rolled his eyes and sputtered. “What is it now?”
“Please, sir. Let me play a song for them.”
49
A Vision, a Voice, and a Villain
Into the silence of the great hall, Leeli played. Her eyes were closed and she stood beside her mother, swaying with the melody.
Janner knew the moment she spoke that if she played, the strange magic would awaken. And he was glad, though he couldn’t imagine what good it would do them, with Bunge’s hand on the lever that would send Nia and Kal plunging to their deaths. Except for the time it had assuaged the sea dragon’s anger, the magic had never really done them any good; the words and visions that filled Janner’s mind mainly left him confused.
Still, he welcomed it. His heart was black with despair, so the Maker’s magic was most welcome. It helped him believe there was power pulsing behind the veil of the visible world, pulsing like blood through the world’s veins, sending life and light coursing through everything, surprising and confounding at every turn. When he remembered this, the darkness glimmered with goodness.
He was surprised to find that he was smiling. “Play, Leeli,” he said, and her song lifted into the hall and swooped among the boughs, echoed off the ancient walls and fluttered among the crowd. It seeded the soil of many hearts, and only the stoniest rejected it and held to their murderous yearning. The rest, though, felt themselves believing, as Janner did, that the world was bigger and more terribly beautiful than they thought.
Janner expected it, so as soon as the air before him swirled, he leaned into it; he listened for whatever words would be spoken, whatever visions would emerge. The great hall faded into the periphery, and before him he saw many things:
Artham Wingfeather, marching rain-wet streets before an army, screeching defiance at an enemy invisible to Janner; deep caverns with glittering walls, and beneath, as far below as the earth from the heavens, a glow as warm as a setting sun; a bright sail under a full moon, backlit by the thousand lights of a great city.
But more than the vision, which was blurry as if he were peering through sleepy eyes, he heard words:
I FOUND THE GIRL,
NOW I’M COMING FOR YOU.
I’LL SNIFF YOU OUT.
AND WHEN I DO,
I’LL HOLD YOU FAST
FOREVER.
The words jarred Janner’s mind and shot through the vision like an arrow through smoke. Who? Who will find me? He didn’t know if it would work, but he hurled his own words into the vision like stones into a lake.
Who are you? What do you want from us?
Janner felt the asker—whatever it was—choke with surprise, as if it hadn’t expected to be answered.
I am—I am—
The speaker faltered, and Janner sensed that it was too shocked to form a sentence. Janner wasn’t sure if the voice was the cloven in the cave, Gnag the Nameless, or something else, but he threw more words, desperate to know the answer.
Why are you after us? What do you want?
“Enough!” Bunge cried. He took a step toward Leeli and smacked the whistleharp away from her mouth. The vision vanished, and Kalmar raised his head and loosed a long, mournful howl. Bunge reached for the lever that would open the trapdoor and let Nia and Kalmar fall.
But before he could pull it, a mighty pounding shook the giant doors at the back of the hall. The crowd turned in time to see them fly open.
In the shadows of the doorway stood the cloven. Janner knew it by its hunched silhouette. Like a wave, the odor of the beast washed into the room. People gasped and scrambled away, covering their faces and gagging.
“No!” Kalmar screamed. “Go back!”
The cloven cowered for a moment, pausing in the safety of the shadows, then it stepped through the doors and into the light. The beast was as tall as a man, but it stooped. Matted brown fur clung to it in patches, and where there was no fur, its skin was gray and bubbled, as if its muscles had melted and slid down to grow in the wrong places. Its face was like an animal’s—but not just any animal’s, Janner realized—a bear’s. Its jowls hung low, and tendrils of slobber dangled from its black lips. Its ears were small, ragged half-circles, and its eyes were deep-set and hidden in shadow. The limbs were grotesque and twisted, so that it moved with a pitiful lurch, twisting and swinging and grunting with every difficult step. Its shoulders were broad and muscular, but one hung lower than the other so that one of its hands dragged the floor. It stopped and cocked its head when it spotted Nia and Kalmar on the gallows.
“Mama?” said a tiny voice. Janner thought for a baffling moment that it was the cloven who spoke, but then he realized that it held something in one of its arms. “Mama?” said the voice again, and a little face peeked out from the beast’s fur.
“Bonnie!” screamed Freva, and she rushed across the hall past the dumbfounded crowd.
The cloven grunted again and lurched forward, loosening its grip on the little girl enough so that she climbed up on its arm where everyone in the hall could see her.
“It’s got the girl!” one of the men shouted, and the spell of silence was broken. The hall erupted in screams of terror and screams of anger.
The thing held Bonnie out to Freva, and its face broke into a horrible smile. Bonnie leapt into Freva’s arms with a squeal of joy, and someone shouted, “Shoot it!”
Arrows plunged into the cloven’s back and shoulders, and it slogged forward a step, then fell to one knee. Kalmar struggled against his bonds and howled indecipherable words, more concerned for the cloven than the rope around his neck. Men and women grabbed weapons from the outer walls and advanced on the beast while Freva ran with Bonnie to a nook in the roots of the great tree and held her tight. The cloven fell forward and lay motionless. Those bearing weapons stood over it, ready to strike if it moved.
“Nibbick Bunge,” Nia said, “the girl is alive. You no longer have grounds to execute anyone. Remove the rope from my son’s neck.”
Bunge looked from Nia and Kalmar to the council to the cloven.
“Remove itnow,” Nia commanded.
Bunge shrank before her and lifted the noose from Kalmar’s neck, then Nia’s. Kalmar crumpled to the floor, exhausted and sobbing. Janner and Podo climbed the gallows, and though their arms were bound they did their best to hug Nia and Kalmar.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Bunge,” Olumphia shouted. “You were ready to hang a daughter of the Hollows for a murder her son didn’t commit! You’re no more suited to be our Keeper than that dead cloven is.”
“It was the cloven all along!” said Guildmaster Clout. “Nibbick Bunge is the only one here who’s guilty of trying to kill anybody.”
Several other Hollowfolk shouted their agreement. Bunge, in a daze, cut Nia’s bonds. He descended the gallows steps without a word, sat next to Grigory on the mound, and hid his face. The seven chiefs stared at th
e floor. The stealing of the livestock seemed to matter little in the wake of Bunge’s humiliation.
Nia stepped to the front of the gallows and gazed out at the assembly. “Hollowsfolk! We have been met with suspicion and hatred since we set foot here.” People squirmed as if she were looking at them each alone. “You’re so proud that the Green Hollows has withstood Gnag the Nameless all these years, but I tell you he has conquered you as surely as he conquered the Shining Isle. Your fear of him has poisoned your hearts so that you have lost the ability to see with anything but your eyes. Your borders may be fortified, your Durgans may be ruthless, and your precious fruit may be safe, but your fear has left you as twisted as that beast on the floor. We came to you for refuge! We came to you because we had nowhere else to go. And you would hang us from the great tree without evidence, without a thought in your head—without even a day to learn the truth! I tell you, today you lost your love for truth and fled into the arms of fear.”
“Indeed!” said a voice from the back of the room. Bonifer Squoon hobbled into the hall on his cane. He removed his top hat and wiped sweat from his forehead. His cheeks were flushed, and he was out of breath. “A fine speech, Your Highness. I’m glad to see the council came to their senses. I don’t know what I would have done if they had hanged you.”
“Thank you, Bonifer,” Nia said. “I’m glad to knowsomeone here hasn’t lost his mind.”
“Not at all, Highness! Not at all. Oh!” he said when he saw the cloven in the center of the floor. “A beast! Much has transpired in the few minutes I’ve been gone, I see.”
“Yes,” Nia said. “And the missing girl has been returned to her mother. It was the cloven that took Bonnie.”
Squoon chuckled. “Was it?” Then he laughed so hard that he doubled over his cane and wheezed. His wheeze became a cough, which turned into more laughter. It was the only sound in the hall. He placed his hat on his head and wiped the corners of his eyes. Bonifer collected himself and patted his stomach with a sigh, then folded his hands over his cane.
The Monster in the Hollows Page 27
