Kendra Kandlestar and the Shard From Greeve

by Lee Edward Födi

  “Give it back! I need it!” Kendra screamed, straining in futility against the arrows that still held her pinned fast.

  “No-cha!” the queen hissed as she gazed upon the black stone in her crooked claw. “Queeny must have-cha shard! Erk erk erk! Queeny make-cha Krakes supremeeoso of all-cha monster clans. Ungers, Goojuns—all-cha monsters—will bowzee to Krakeez!”

  “You’re mad!” Kendra blurted. “You can’t do anything with one piece! You won’t get them all!”

  But Queen Krake only laughed. “Little Een-cha will never knowzee!” she crowed. “Becauzee little Een-cha will go-cha Rumba Pit! Erk erk erk!”

  “NOZUM!” Trooogul bellowed. He shook the bars of his cage again—but it was all in vain.

  “But Queeny!” said Sergeant Yeeek. “Dungeons full-cha with all-cha Gnomzee now-cha!”

  “Just locky up with-cha cripple!” Queen Krake retorted, her full attention now locked upon the shard. “Erk erk erk!”

  For a moment Kendra wondered who the queen meant by the “cripple,” but it was just a fleeting thought. She felt so light-headed, so sick she just wanted to retch. How could she go on? What could she do without the shard? She felt empty and lost, with only a single thought echoing through her mind: the shard, the shard, the shard.

  Sergeant Yeeek and the other soldiers showed no sympathy for Kendra’s anguish. They unfastened the arrows and began dragging her away across the frigid dungeon floor. She couldn’t help looking back at Trooogul. He stared at her from his cell, his face contorted with absolute fury. But he wasn’t angry at the Krakes, Kendra knew. He was angry at her.

  They brought her to a cold and dreary cell, deep within the catacombs of the dungeon. They chained her to a heavy stone and threw her roughly inside the cage, where she landed with a thud on the hard floor. Then she heard the prison door clang shut, and she was left to stare into nothingness, for it was pitch black inside. Even so, she knew she was not alone. Something else was there; she could hear the rustle of its body, the clink of its chains, the sound of it breathing. It was a huge thing, Kendra could tell, and with a rush of panic, she scooted backwards, painfully dragging the stone that was shackled to her ankle. At last, her back found the corner of the cell and she wriggled into it, curling herself into a small ball. Then the thing spoke.

  “Ah, Arinotta, is it really so? Are we two lost souls, forever doomed to be prison mates?”

  Kendra felt her braids prickle. “Prince?” she murmured, leaning forward in the darkness. “Is that you? How can you see me?”

  “I cannot,” came the peryton’s graceful reply. “But I can smell you. I knew your scent at once.”

  “But . . . but I freed you,” Kendra said. “I-I-I saw you soar into the sky.”

  “Alas, freedom was not to be mine on that day,” Prince said, his sadness betrayed by his voice.

  Kendra was crying again. Even though she could not see the noble peryton, she could imagine him: his glorious wings, his mighty hooves, his majestic antlers. “You should be free,” she murmured.

  “As should we all in this desolate dungeon,” Prince declared. Then, after a moment, he said, “There is something different about you, Arinotta. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “I . . . I . . .” But Kendra couldn’t put her swirling feelings into words.

  “You have lost your stone,” Prince declared suddenly.

  “It was a trap,” Kendra uttered simply, burying her head into her knees.

  “Ah, then the rumors were true.”

  “What do you mean?” Kendra asked.

  “Stories of the queen’s poisonous plot have gusted like a mountain wind through these deep dungeons,” Prince told her. “I have heard the plan in all its wicked detail. It was a carefully assembled scheme, one that began months ago when the queen’s soldiers chanced to capture a Faun and an Unger.”

  “Effryn and Trooogul,” Kendra murmured.

  “Indeed,” Prince said. “They were brought to this very dungeon, and here the queen herself overheard their whispers. She discovered that you possessed that fabled stone, the shard from Greeve. And she heard, too, how you longed to find the Unger, your brother. And so it was the queen herself who allowed the Faun to escape, for she knew he would contact you with news of your imprisoned brother. The Faun was the unknowing messenger, the lure if you will; the Unger, the bait. And so she waited, that wicked lizard queen, waiting for you to seek your brother and bring that dark stone. Your resourcefulness and bravery are legendary among the monsters, Arinotta. She knew you would find a way to reach the castle. She knew you would come. And then the Golden Loot crashed upon her rocky shores. She captured the pirates, she captured me—and one other. The dark Een.”

  “Agent Lurk,” Kendra murmured.

  “The same,” Prince said. “He was unconscious when they found him—but they carted him to the dungeons. Once revived, he told her that you had been aboard the ship—that you had the shard at your command. And the queen knew the moment had arrived to enact the last part of her dreadful ruse. She dispatched her soldiers to await you in the dark shadows near the Unger’s cage, for she desired the power of the shard for herself.”

  Kendra’s mind was swirling. It had been a perfect snare, so elaborately and perfectly constructed by the giant Krake queen. And Kendra had walked right into it. How could I have been so stupid? Kendra asked herself. And now she thought of Winter Woodsong’s warning from all those weeks ago. The old woman had suspected a trap all along, the moment she had heard of Effryn’s message—and Kendra had just ignored her.

  “The shard represents magic of the oldest kind,” Prince remarked. “Difficult it is, to command such power.”

  “I could use it,” Kendra sobbed.

  “Or did it use you?” Prince wondered. “It is a dark thing, Arinotta. You are better without it.”

  “Are you mad?” she screamed. “If I had it now we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. I would have freed us both.”

  “I would not have let you,” he said sternly.

  “How could you say that?” she asked.

  “There is a tiny sliver of a window in the wall opposite our cell,” Prince said, as if this somehow served to answer her question. “While the dungeons may be deep beneath the castle, they are high upon the rocky crags that overlook the Seas of Ire.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Kendra asked.

  “Because in a few hours the sun will peer through that window and cast some light upon our dismal den.”

  “Then I suppose we are lucky—we won’t be trapped in complete darkness.”

  “Some would say that,” Prince said sadly. “I would not.”

  These were cryptic words, ones Kendra did not understand, but her mind now felt too heavy and weary to decipher his meaning. And then because it was so cold and drafty, and because he would have it so, the great peryton coaxed Kendra to his side and let her nestle against his fur. She was so full of despair and exhaustion that she took little convincing, and as soon as her long braids touched his coarse coat, her eyes flickered shut and she faded into troubled sleep.

  KENDRA WAS AWOKEN by the clatter of a crude wooden bowl against the stone floor of her dungeon cell. She opened her eyes to find herself confronted by the cruel face of a Krake guard. He snapped his beak at her in malicious delight before skittering away.

  Kendra rubbed her eyes. The sun had now risen, and a dull light was filtering through the window in the opposite wall, just as Prince had said it would. She looked about the cell, but there was little to see. It was an awful place, with only a scattering of filthy straw to afford the slightest comfort.

  She rose to her feet and dragged her stone block forward so that she might peer out the window, but she was separated from it by the bars of the cage and the corridor beyond, and all she could see was a wash of cold gray sky. If she listened closely, she could hear the Seas of Ire, the tempestuous waves crashing against the rocky crags of the shore. Somewhere across those wretched waters w
as her home. How she suddenly missed it!

  Kendra turned back to her cell and there was the peryton, still lying in the dark corner. Immediately, she could tell something was wrong with him. Then he rose and stepped into light—and at one Kendra emitted a shriek of horror. No longer did Prince resemble the beautiful and magnificent creature that she had come to love while aboard the pirate ship. Gone were his kingly antlers; they had been hacked to jagged stumps. Gone were his resplendent wings; they had been scorched and shorn till they were no more than a pair of feathery stubs. And gone was the luster of his coat; it was burned in patches and striped with wounds. He looked nothing like his former self. Indeed, he was now just a broken, shackled creature.

  “Who did this to you!?” Kendra demanded. “Was it Pugglemud? Was it the Gnomes? Was it that abominable queen?”

  The peryton did not reply. Kendra heard him nudge at the bowl of slop and gruel that the Krake had left behind. Then he said quietly, “They have brought us our meal, Arinotta. It is all we shall have this day. I suggest you eat.”

  “Are . . . are you in pain?” Kendra asked.

  “It is not so terrible,” Prince replied, but Kendra knew he was lying, for even though the great stag tried to lift his head proudly, a single tear escaped down his snout.

  “Tell me what happened,” Kendra implored.

  “Ah, Arinotta,” Prince sighed, “some things are better left untold.”

  “I must know,” Kendra said. “Please.”

  “But I cannot tell you, not exactly,” the peryton said. “One moment I was escaping the Golden Loot, galloping for the clouds and feeling the rush of wind in my wings. Then a crackle of black lightning roared from below. Like the claws of some great demon, it tore my wings and horns. The next thing I knew, I was crashing back to the ship in a terrible tumult of feathers and fur. And there I lay, broken and battered, until the ruptured vessel drifted to shore, where at once those dreaded Krakes locked me in their chains and cast me in this dreary place.”

  Kendra stared up at him, her stomach churning. Then she fell to the ground, clutching her braided hair with both hands. At that moment she wished the dungeon floor would just split open and swallow her—she wanted to be as far away as possible, anywhere but here in the cell with the peryton.

  “Arinotta, what is wrong?”

  But she could not answer him through the tears that now flooded her cheeks; for, of course, Kendra knew what had ravished and defiled the great peryton.

  It had been the shard from Greeve.

  It had been her.

  There is nothing so shocking as a sudden awakening. To be stirred from a dream is one thing. To be roused from a deep sleep, another. To be awakened to a terrible realization is the worst of all. For Kendra, learning that she had caused the destruction of the beautiful peryton was like being struck by a cannonball.

  She tried to convince herself that it was not her fault. It was the scoptacus! It was the pirates! It was the shard! But her mind could not outrun the guilt; it caught her with ravenous claws and feasted without mercy. She alone had chosen to wrestle with the shard’s dark power—and it was a battle she had lost. The shard knew only one type of magic—destruction. It was something Kendra now realized all too well, but of course it was too late. She could not take back or repair what she had done.

  And yet, part of Kendra still yearned for the shard. She missed the thrill of its power—even though it sickened her to think of what she had done with that dark stone. Without the shard, she felt weak, impotent, and unsure, like someone who had hobbled on crutches for too long—only to have them suddenly stolen away. And so the Een girl stewed in agony and guilt. She could not even bear to look the peryton in the eye. How could she tell him the truth?

  “Ah, Arinotta,” Prince said at last, “I remember the days when you would gaze upon me for hours. But now I fear the sight of me disgusts you.”

  “It . . . it’s not that,” Kendra murmured.

  “I have accepted my plight,” the peryton declared valiantly. “Any day now, we might be led to the Rumble Pit, and there I will meet my doom. No beast shall feel the sting of my antlers or the gust of my wings. But I will fight with all courage and do my best to defend the honor of the perytons. We will go together, Arinotta. At least we will not be alone in our dismal fate.”

  Kendra had no response to this brave speech. All she could do was wipe her never-ending stream of tears.

  Then, late one afternoon, they heard the pitter-patter of small feet outside their cell. Fearing it might be rats—or worse—Kendra quickly took cover behind the peryton’s giant body. But a moment later two tiny creatures stepped between the iron bars of the cage and into the dim light—and here were Oki and Jinx. They looked bedraggled and tired but otherwise no worse for the wear.

  At once Oki rushed to hug Kendra, but she pulled back, ashamed and shy. All she could think of was the last time she had seen her friends, floating in the ocean after the scoptacus attack. She had said terrible things to them.

  “Why did you come here?” Kendra asked them sadly. “I don’t deserve it. Not after . . .”

  “Oh, Kendra,” Oki said, already fussing over her wounded hand, “I know you were poisoned by the shard. You must know I will never leave you.”

  She could not resist the sureness of his voice, the kindness of his eyes, and at once Kendra knelt to let the little mouse into her arms. Even Jinx patted her on the shoulder. Prince watched on and grunted in satisfaction.

  “Where have you been?” Kendra asked presently. “Did the Krakes capture you?”

  “No,” Jinx replied. “But we’ve had our share of adventures, I can tell you that. We’ve had a time climbing up to the castle and making our way through the maze of this dreadful dungeon. But at last we’ve tracked you down.”

  “Kendra, what about you?” Oki said. “How did you end up here?”

  Kendra sighed and, sitting down on the cold floor, explained the whole story to her friends. She told them how she had snuck into the castle and discovered the hatchery (Oki shivered at this part, for he and Jinx had been there too) and how she had eventually found her way into the dungeon, only to fall into Queen Krake’s trap.

  “Well,” Jinx declared after the tale was told, “I can’t say I’m sorry you’ve lost the shard, Kendra. It was a terrible thing.”

  “I know,” Kendra murmured. “But it was my only magic.”

  “That’s not true,” Oki perked up. “We’ve brought you a gift, Kendra.”

  The mouse had with him a small sack (scavenged from the wreckage of the Golden Loot, Kendra guessed) and now he reached inside to pull out a tiny twig of wood. Kendra stared at it blankly for a moment before realizing it was her wand.

  “Where did you get it?” she asked, hesitant to take the Eenwood from her friend.

  “I snatched it back from Pugglemud,” Oki explained. “It was during the scoptacus attack. When the ship was being torn apart, I saw Pugglemud lying in a heap on the deck. He must have been knocked out cold by one of the scoptacus’s tentacles. In any case, I saw your wand sticking out of his pocket, so I grabbed it and—well, you know the rest. We thought the Golden Loot was sinking, so Jinx and I abandoned ship and found a piece of debris to carry us to shore.”

  “You have magic again,” Jinx told Kendra, “the good old-fashioned Een kind.”

  “Yes,” Oki said, now forcing the living twig into Kendra’s hands. “You can use the wand to snap your chains, and then we can just slip through the dungeon bars and leave this awful place behind.”

  Kendra shook her head. “I doubt I can wheedle any magic from this wood,” she said gloomily. “And, even if I could, I won’t abandon Prince.”

  “Arinotta,” the great peryton snorted, “if you are able, you must free yourself. There is no reason that both of us should perish in this abhorrent place.”

  “We’ll leave together,” Jinx announced. “Surely, Kendra, you can snap through his shackles, just as well as your own. Surely you can
bend the iron bars of this cage. After all, I saw you destroy the scoptacus!”

  “That wasn’t me,” Kendra said. “That was the shard.”

  “Nay, Arinotta,” Prince said, “the shard was only a conduit for the magic, that much is sure. Somewhere within you, there is magic yet I think.”

  Kendra fingered the wand of Eenwood, rubbing her hands slowly and gingerly over its bumpy texture. Her one hand was still blistered from using the shard, but even with her healthy one she could feel no spark from the wand. It was as if the wood was dead.

  She looked back up at her friends. “You should go,” she told them. “There must be a way you can return to Een. Maybe there’s another ship to sneak aboard, going the other way across the sea.”

  “We’re not going to leave you,” Oki insisted. “Just give it some time, Kendra. The magic will come back to you.”

  “I’m afraid time is something we’re running out of,” Jinx said. “We have to get out of here before that queen decides to hold another one of her Rumble Pit battles.”

  “The hopper speaks truthfully,” Prince remarked, “though I suppose we have no choice in the matter. Perhaps young Arinotta will discover her magic. If she does not, then I vow to do my best to protect her in the pit.”

  “In the meantime, Oki and I will search for another way to bust out of here,” Jinx said. “Maybe we can steal a set of keys that will unlock the shackles and the dungeon gates.”

  “Don’t do it!” Kendra exclaimed, looking up. “It’s too dangerous, Jinx! I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Don’t worry about us,” Jinx said. “I’ve got this pirate’s sword, and Oki’s got his brains. We’ll be back; don’t worry.” Then the grasshopper nudged Oki, and the two small critters scampered back out of the cage and into the dark shadows of the dungeon.

  “You are lucky to have such fine friends,” Prince told the Een girl after a moment. “A more loyal pair you could not hope to find.”