Chapter Nine
A Perilous Journey
Three days later, Andy, Alden, the King, and Mermin met in the laboratory.
“Have you discovered that servant’s motive yet?” asked Andy.
“So far it remains unclear.” The King held up a hand. “Until we know why he tried to poison Alden, we won’t know what action to take.”
“I think Razen might be a spy,” Andy blurted.
“Do you now?” Mermin raised an eyebrow.
Andy exchanged a look with Alden.
“What pwoof do you have?”
“Well, he looks like that guy you’re questioning and…well, he always scowls at me.”
“Andy, if you’re suggesting we arrest people who resemble the perpetrator and scowl at you…” the King cautioned.
“But sir, if that guy tried to hurt Alden because he’s helping Abaddon—if the servants who look like that are spies—other people might get hurt before we know.”
The King shook his head. “All will be made clear in time, Andy. We will continue to press the servant, and he will come to understand that it is in his best interest to tell us what motivated him. If you ever see the dungeon where he’s being kept, you’ll understand.”
Andy’s mind flashed back to the wisps of putrid green vapor seeping from under the dungeon door. He also remembered the raised area that looked like someone or something had punched it from the inside. He let his argument drop for now.
“While you’ve been recovering, Mermin and I have been planning your route to the Dragon’s Lair,” said the King, changing the subject.
They all moved over to the table where the map of Oomaldee lay open.
“The day after tomorrow, when the festival is over, I’d like you and Alden to set out to retrieve the red dragon scale,” the King began. “If all goes well, it should take you four days to reach the Dragon’s Lair. Mermin and I believe the best route for you to take is through the city of Oops to the Goozy Bog, right here.” He pointed to a location on the map. “Be careful to stay away from the edges of the bog as there are patches of quicksand.”
“You don’t want to fall into one of those,” Mermin interjected. “You could dwown. Your feet get stuck, and you just keep sinking and sinking. The quicksand eventually covers your head and you dwown. Nothing much you can do once you get stuck in quicksand. Yep, you’d dwown.”
Andy and Alden ricocheted looks, eyes wide.
The King cleared his throat. “Thank you for that, Mermin. Now, as I was saying…from the Goozy Bog, follow its edge to the village of Oohhh. The Forest of Giants will be off to your right. Be sure to keep your distance, for it is a dark and dangerous place. Many an unwary traveler who has gotten too close to the forest has turned up missing.”
“What happened to them?” Andy couldn’t keep the quake out of his voice. Alden glanced between Andy and the King.
“No one knows for sure. Some say there are giant plants that gwab people and cawwy them to their deaths. Other folks say vicious giants eat people,” explained Mermin matter-of-factly. “The last person to go into the fowest that I know of was an old cwazy lady, Anta Emm. Don’t know what made her do it, but she up and walked into the fowest. Never been seen or heard fwom since.”
Andy shifted on his stool.
“You will be safe as long as you follow the edge of the bog,” the King reassured. “Once you reach the village of Oohhh, travel northeast until you reach the Great Wall. Take care not to be seen by the soldiers stationed in the Greenleaf watchtower. If they see you, they will stop and question you as to what you are doing in those parts. If you can’t provide a satisfactory explanation, they will think you are spies and apprehend you.”
Andy looked over at Alden as his mouth dropped open.
“Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen,” the King suggested.
The pair bobbed heads.
“The Forest of Giants goes right up to the Great Wall at the Greenleaf watchtower. So you’ll want to cross that section as quickly and quietly as possible. Follow the Great Wall until you come to the Victory watchtower. You’ll know it easily because this is where the Slither River, Red River, and Blood River merge.”
“Excuse me, sir,” interrupted Andy, “but why are the rivers named Red River and Blood River?”
“Many years ago, King Abaddon snuck into the land of Oomaldee on the Slither River under the Victory watchtower. He and his troops laid in wait for our forces who were up in that area on training exercises. They ambushed our troops and over fifteen thousand of our men died. The two rivers ran red with blood. Only when our forces took refuge on nearby Mount Hope were they successful in driving Abaddon back and finally defeating him. He retreated back to the land of Hadession.”
“Is it possible that King Abaddon could be in that area again?” asked Alden.
“It’s not likely. After that battle, we made many improvements to the watchtower. Chances are slim that he would be able to get back into our land.”
“But those vulture-men fly overhead all the time,” objected Andy. “What’s to keep King Abaddon from flying troops into the area?”
“There’s a big difference between flying men and flying artillery. Catapults are heavy, and he would have a hard time getting all that into Oomaldee without being detected.”
Andy’s mind started racing. “What if he killed the guards in the watchtowers? What if…what if he replaced them with guards of his own, so it looks like your watchmen are protecting the land but really aren’t?”
The King took a deep breath. “Boys,” he spoke slowly and calmly, looking them in the eyes, “I would never send you this way if I thought you would be harmed. We looked at several possible routes, but in the end chose this one because we feel it is the safest.”
Andy and Alden locked eyes.
Safest?
“It’s completely understandable that you’re a bit concerned, but trust me, I want you two to return safely. After all, what good would it do if you couldn’t return with the red dragon scale? That is, after all, the whole point of this mission,” said the King, putting a hand on Andy’s shoulder.
Andy met the King’s eyes.
“Now—” he paused for emphasis “—may I continue?”
Andy nodded.
“I recommend that you cross the Slither River just as it is getting dark to avoid notice by the watchmen. Once you cross the river, follow it upstream until you reach Dragontail Tower, but again, be careful you aren’t seen. You should be able to go through the Great Wall by way of the tunnel that the river runs through. We sealed up the main access after that battle, but installed a secret door just to the right after you get in the tunnel. It’s similar to the way the door to the drawbridge power room works.”
Andy squirmed.
“There’s a stone at the base that, when you push it, will open the door for you. Follow that tunnel and it will open up into the foothills of the Zwellow Mountains. Keep following the Slither River northeast and it will take you to the Dragon’s Lair.”
“Any questions?” asked Mermin.
I wish I had a GPS.
Neither Andy nor Alden voiced their concerns.
“As I said before, we’ve chosen this route to minimize risk and maximize the probability of success.” The King took a deep breath. “Now, tomorrow is the last day of the festival. Alden, you’ll want to participate in the closing ceremony with your first place medal. You two enjoy yourselves, and we’ll plan to have you leave in two days.”
Enjoy yourselves? Easy for him to say.
In the quiet of his chambers that night, Andy could not stop thinking about the route the King and Mermin had outlined for them. Sleep provided no relief, for he dreamed that a giant from the forest was grabbing him. The brute squeezed Andy’s chest until he saw stars. Just as the foe reached to pull his head off, Andy screamed and woke himself up. His sheets were damp.
After catching his breath and glancing about the room, he finally dismissed that
nightmare, only to find that he was caught in quicksand. He kept sinking and sinking and sinking, all the while unable to catch his breath. Only his lips remained above the surface, and he gasped for air. Andy jolted awake as his arms thrashed and hit the covers. Sleep took its sweet time finding him after being scared off in such a violent manner.
The morning sun finally took pity on him, sneaking rays through the fog-filled window. He opened one eye then the other.
They were just dreams… Somehow the thought only made his stomach tighten. What will we find?
He sat up, yawned, and stretched.
Several hours later, Andy savored a fried mesh marvel while Alden munched on barbecued pork rolls.
“We haven’t checked out Technology Frontiers yet. Do you want to?” Andy asked around a mouthful of goodness.
“Yeah, that’s always the most awesome part of the festival! Last year I saw a pegasus massager. I’d love to get that. It would save me a lot of time.”
A pegasus massager? Not quite what I had in mind.
Technology Frontiers was situated near the back of the festival grounds, next to the field where they had encountered the dragon trainers. The dragon fighting competition had ended and the field was empty.
Andy spotted something red in the path and stopped. “What’s the difference between a red dragon and a crimson dragon?”
“Not sure. Why?”
To the left of Andy’s foot lay something shiny, red, and curved, about the size of a fist. He bent down and picked it up then turned it over several times. “How do we know it was a crimson dragon and not a red dragon that was here? Have you ever seen a red dragon?”
“Well, no, but why would Merodach tell us where to find the red dragons if there was one here? Why wouldn’t he have just pointed it out?”
“You trust Merodach?”
“No, but…”
“Do you really want to go on this trip? If we make it to the Dragon’s Lair, we still have to get a scale.”
“Yeah, there’s that…and the Forest of Giants gives me the creeps.” Alden rubbed his sleeves.
“Exactly. So if this is the scale of a red dragon, and if we don’t have to make that trip to the Dragon’s Lair, battle a dragon, and get back in one piece, wouldn’t that be better?”
“Yes!” Alden exhaled loudly. “But how can we tell?”
“Let’s take this back and see if the King or Mermin can figure out whether it’s from a crimson dragon or a red dragon. What have we got to lose?”
“I sure hope you’re right.”
Andy put the dragon scale in the pouch that hung around his neck, tucked it back inside his tunic, and gave his friend a reassuring nod.
They walked along the path under a dense mass of knotty oak trees. When they emerged, a huge silver sign proclaimed in bold capital letters TECHNOLOGY FRONTIERS: INVENT YOUR FUTURE. The placard hung from an oversized white tent. Set against the brightness of the fog, it created a distinctly ethereal, almost high-tech feeling that set this area apart.
Cool! This could be amazing!
Andy and Alden walked into the first tent. They found a sewing machine on display. There was also a clothes washing machine with a pair of mechanical hands that picked up the dirty clothes from a laundry basket, scrubbed them against a washboard with soap, and then rinsed them in clean water in an adjoining bucket. Several ladies were excitedly clucking about how much simpler their lives might become once these were available for purchase.
“That’s awesome!” Alden oozed.
Andy forced a smile.
The next tent featured booths demonstrating a fog removal spray and a message delivery system that was nothing more than homing pigeons. The one after that housed an automated milking machine. A group of men gathered around and tested it out, making excited gestures and talking loudly.
Alden gestured, picking up the men’s excitement.
Andy tried to hide a heavy sigh. Lack-of-Technology Frontiers is more like it.
But as the thought slogged around his brain, he noticed a device on the table in front of him. Odor-Be-Gone indicated the sign to the right.
“Guaranteed to manage the nastiest of smells!” a wiry man dressed in a ragged tunic and threadbare leggings announced from behind the table.
Andy started bouncing from foot to foot. “Alden, I keep forgetting to ask. When I first arrived on Curse Day, I could have sworn I heard cows mooing and then farting as the fog lifted. It happened again when you were practicing with Optimistic in the training center, and again during the competition. It always reeks! Am I crazy, or do cow farts make the fog disappear?”
Alden laughed. “You’re not crazy. And yes, cow farts chase the fog away. The only problem is the smell.”
“I’ll say!”
Alden continued, “I’ve heard that when the curse first started, farmers found that the pastures where the cows grazed were fog-free. They started using cow farts to clear away the fog when there’s an event.”
“It’s a great idea, but someone needs to invent something to kill the stench. It’s awful!”
“And that’s exactly what Odor-Be-Gone will do!” the man proclaimed.
Andy picked up the device. It reminded him of eyeglasses, except instead of lenses, a wire holding a small sponge extended from the bridge. You could fill the sponge with whatever scent you liked best—mint, lavender, or lilac. Andy put it on. It pinched the bridge of his nose, but he smiled as the fresh aroma of mint filled his nostrils.
“How much?”
“Two spannings for the device. Four quirts for the scent. We’re taking orders.”
Just as Andy finished placing an order, a trumpet called everyone to the amphitheater for the closing ceremony.
On the way, Alden pulled out the gold medal from under his tunic. Andy smiled. Alden shot back a grin, his expression reflecting more than just happiness at winning an award.
The arena was packed when they arrived. A dozen stages circled the space, and the bands that had performed throughout the festival came together for one final jam session. People were laughing and having a good time, tapping and jumping to the music. Andy spotted Marta and Hans and waved to get their attention before heading over to join them. On the way, the boys greeted Henry, Max, and Oscar, along with their wives and kids, as well as several other castle servants. It seemed as if everyone had turned out.
After several minutes, the governor of the city of Oops mounted the center stage, quieting the crowd. “I’d like to thank you all for attending the Festival of Oomaldee this year. Your participation, your cheering for the competitors and enjoying the bands—” the crowd interrupted with applause and hoots “—has produced another successful event. I feel privileged to have hosted the festival in our fair city. It will certainly be the highlight of my year!”
The crowd started whistling and hollering once more.
The governor motioned for quiet. “I see it will be a highlight for you as well.” He smiled then continued, “On a more serious note, as we draw the festivities to a close, I do want to take a moment to remember Uma Flopol, a competition judge. She was killed after being struck by a poison dart during the Tower Chase judging.”
Gasps sprinkled the crowd.
“If not for the quick thinking and courageous actions of Andy, Son of Smith, it is probable that others could have been killed as well. Is Andy, Son of Smith, here? If so, please come up to the platform to be recognized.”
Hans shouted, “He’s right here!” and motioned wildly at Andy.
No! Andy shook his head emphatically, but several folks standing nearby heard Hans. He surrendered as they began pushing him toward the stage, all the while his face warming. He hesitated and surveyed the crowd when he reached the foot of the steps.
“Way to go, Andy! Way to go!” Chants compelled him upward.
The governor shook Andy’s hand vigorously when he at last reached the stage. “That was a heroic thing you did. You ignored your own safety and ac
ted to prevent harm to others. I understand you got hurt and spent three days recovering from your injuries.” Andy gave a slow nod as his gaze darted across the crowd.
“On behalf of the Festival Committee and everyone here, thank you.”
A volcano of applause and whistling erupted, covering everyone within earshot.
“Is there anything you’d like to say?” the governor shouted above the roar, restoring quiet.
Andy drew a hand to the back of his neck. “I’ve never done anything like that before. I just saw the guy about to hurt my friend and I tried to stop him.”
“A hero, and humble!” the governor praised. “Well done, Andy!” He threw an arm around Andy’s shoulders, then became solemn. “Now, I ask everyone to join me in a moment of silence as we remember Uma Flopol.”
Everyone grew quiet.
After a minute, the governor intoned, “Thank you. And now, would the medalists in the athletic competitions please join me on stage to be recognized.”
Andy tried to step away and dodge the attention, but was stopped short when the magistrate kept his arm firmly in place. “Please stay here. Your actions deserve much recognition.”
Only as the hundred or so medalists mounted the stage did the official release Andy. He fidgeted until Alden joined him.
The governor then invited the winners of various other contests—such as the jams and jellies competition, the apple pie eating competition, the turkey calling competition, the kite flying competition, and the goat herding competition—to the adjoining stages.
“Please join me in recognizing all of our winners!” the official invited. The crowd again responded.
“Thank you all for attending. I now declare the Festival of Oomaldee complete for this year!”
At this, the bands all started playing a raucous tune while fireworks erupted from the back of the main stage. Cheers went up and people started dancing and swaying to the music.
Wow! I’ve never seen people party like this! Andy marveled as he spun around.
Andy and Alden rejoined Marta and Hans amid hugs and more celebration. As they danced out of the amphitheater and all along the way home, folks stopped Andy and shook his hand.
Out of the corner of his eye, Andy noticed Alden glancing over at him. While his friend wasn’t exactly frowning, he wasn’t smiling like Marta and Hans either.
What’s wrong? Why’s he looking at me that way?