I swallowed. “If you kill me, you’ll never know how it works.”
A sinister look filled the goblin’s face. “Now that you remind me, my master did tell me to keep alive the person who wears it. But he said nothing about keeping your friends alive.”
I sucked in my breath.
“Perhaps if I agree to spare your friends, though, you will tell me how it works.” He winked at another goblin. “Then my dear master and I will have some bargaining to do.”
He pivoted to Shim, who was shaking in fear, and kicked him so hard he flew across the grove. “Shall I start our fun with this dirty little dwarf? No, I think not.” He turned to Rhia, his thin eyes gleaming. “A girl of the forest! What an unexpected pleasure.”
Rhia stepped backward.
The goblin nodded, and two members of his band lunged at her. Each of them seized one of her leaf-draped arms.
“Give it to me,” ordered the goblin.
I glanced at Rhia, then back at him. How could I possibly give up the Galator?
“Right now!”
I did not move.
“All right then. We’ll amuse ourselves while you make up your mind.” He flicked his wrist at Rhia. “To start with, break both of her arms.”
Instantly the goblins wrenched Rhia’s arms behind her back. At the same time, she cried out, “Don’t do it, Emrys! Don’t—”
She shrieked with pain.
“No!” I pleaded. I pulled the Galator out of my tunic. The jewels glinted darkly in the mist. “Spare her.”
The goblin smiled savagely. “Give it to me first.”
Rhia’s captors twisted her arms harder, almost lifting her off the ground. She shrieked again.
I removed the cord from my neck. The grove was silent, except for the sad creaking of the old elm. I hefted the precious pendant, then handed it over.
The goblin snatched it from me. As he gazed into the jeweled object, he wheezed excitedly. Meanwhile, his greenish tongue danced around his lips. Then he smirked at me. “I have changed my mind. First I will kill your friends, and then I will ask you how it works.”
“No!”
All the goblins wheezed in laughter. Their immense chests shook at their leader’s joke, while Rhia winced painfully.
“All right,” rasped the goblin. “Maybe I will be merciful. Show me how it works. Now!”
I hesitated, not knowing what to do. If there was ever a moment to break my vow and call upon my powers, this was it. Did I dare? Yet even as I asked myself the question, my mind filled with surging, searing flames. The screams of Dinatius. The smell of my own burning flesh.
Try, you coward! a voice within me cried. You must try! Yet, just as urgently, another voice answered: Never again! Last time you destroyed your eyes. This time you will destroy your very soul. Never again!
“Show me!” commanded the goblin. Even through the thickening mist, I saw his muscles tighten. Raising his sword, he aimed the blade at Rhia’s neck.
Still I hesitated.
Just then a strange wind, wilder by the second, shook the branches of the old elm in the center of the grove. Its creaking rose to a scream. As the goblin looked up, the tree snapped free of its roots and toppled over. He had only enough time to howl in agony as the tree crashed down on top of him.
I reached for the Galator, which had dropped to the ground. I slung the leather cord over my neck. With my other hand, I grabbed the fallen goblin’s sword and started slashing at another member of the band. The goblin, far stronger than I, quickly backed me against the trunk of the downed tree.
The goblin reared back to strike me down. Suddenly, he froze. A look of sheer horror came over his face—horror that I had seen only once before, in Dinatius when the flames swallowed him.
I whirled around. Then I, too, froze. The sword fell from my hand. For out of the swirling mist came a gargantuan white spider, her jaws slavering.
“Huuungry,” bellowed the great spider in a blood-curdling voice. “I aaam huuungry.”
Before I knew what was happening, Rhia grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me out of the path of the Grand Elusa. To the shrieks of the cornered goblin, we ran down the hill, closely pursued by Shim. The little giant sprinted almost as fast as we did ourselves, his feet kicking up a cloud of dirt and leaves.
Two of the warrior goblins dodged the monster, leaving their companions to fend for themselves, and chased after us. Wheezing and cursing, waving their swords in the air, they pursued us through the mist-shrouded boulders. Though we charged with all our speed down the hillside, they gained on us steadily. Soon they were almost on top of Shim.
Suddenly a river appeared out of the mist. Rhia cried out, “The water! Jump in the water!”
With no time to ask questions, Shim and I obeyed. We hurled ourselves into the fast-flowing water. The goblins plunged in after us, thrashing their swords in the current.
“Help us!” Rhia shouted, although I had no idea to whom. Then she slapped her hands wildly against the water’s surface.
At once, a wave began to crest in the middle of the river. A great, glistening arm of water rose up, bearing Rhia, Shim, and myself in the palm of its hand. The liquid fingers curled over us like a waterfall, as the hand lifted us high above the river’s cascading surface. Spray, sparkling with rainbows, surrounded us. The arm of water whisked us downstream, leaving our pursuers far behind.
Minutes later, the arm melted back into the river itself, dumping us on a sandbar. We climbed out of the water, bedraggled but safe. And, in the case of Shim, considerably cleaner as well.
23: GREAT LOSSES
Rhia collapsed on the bank, her garb of leaves wet and glistening in the sun. As the surface of the river returned to normal, a thin finger of water splashed across her hand. It clung there for an instant before dissolving into the sand.
But she did not seem to notice. Morosely, she kicked at the emerald reeds by the river’s edge.
I sat down beside her. “Thank you for saving us.”
“Thank the river, not me. The River Unceasing is one of my oldest friends in the forest. He bathed me as an infant, watered me as a child. Now he has saved us all.”
I glanced at the waterway, then at Shim, who had flopped down on his back in the sun. For the first time, no dirt and honey covered his clothing, and I noticed that his baggy shirt was woven of some sort of yellowish bark.
Suddenly, I remembered the yellow-rimmed eye of Trouble. Had the brave hawk eluded that swarm of bees? If he had not, had he survived their wrath? And if he had, would he ever be able to find me again? My shoulder felt strangely bereft without him sitting there.
I turned back to Rhia, who looked more glum than I. “You don’t seem very glad.”
“How can I be glad? I lost two friends today—one old, one new.” Her eyes wandered across my face. “Cwen I’ve known ever since she found me abandoned so long ago. The old elm I met only a few minutes before she felled herself to spare us harm. They couldn’t be more different—one crooked and bent, the other straight and tall. One stole my loyalty, the other gave me life. But I grieve for both.”
I heaved a sigh. “That elm won’t see its saplings ever again.”
She lifted her chin a bit. “Arbassa wouldn’t agree. Arbassa would say that they’ll meet again in the Otherworld. That we all will, someday.”
“Do you really believe that?”
She drew a deep breath. “I’m . . . not sure. I know I want to believe it. But whether we really will meet after the Long Journey, I don’t know.”
“What Long Journey?”
“It’s the voyage to the Otherworld, after a Fincayran dies. Arbassa says the more a person needs to learn when she dies, then the longer her Long Journey must be.”
“In that case, even if the Otherworld is real, it would take mc forever to get there.”
“Maybe not.” She glanced at the rushing river, then back at me. “Arbassa also told me that, sometimes, the bravest and truest souls are spared the
Long Journey completely. Their sacrifice is so great that they are brought right to the Otherworld, at the very instant of death.”
I scoffed at this. “So instead of dying, they just . . . disappear? One second they’re here, writhing in pain, and the next second they’re in the Otherworld, dancing merrily? I don’t think so.”
Rhia lowered her head. “It does sound hard to believe.”
“It’s impossible! Especially if they’re not capable of such a sacrifice anyway.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“If they’re too cowardly!” I bit my lip. “Rhia, I . . . could have done more, much more, to help you.”
She looked at me sympathetically. “What more could you have done?”
“I have some, well, powers. Nothing to do with the Galator. I don’t begin to understand them. Except that they are strong—too strong.”
“Powers like your second sight?”
“Yes, but stronger. Fiercer. Wilder.” For a moment I listened to the churning water of the River Unceasing. “I never asked for such powers! They just came to me. Once, in a rage, I used them badly, and they cost me my eyes. They cost another boy much more. They weren’t meant for mortals, these powers! I promised never to use them again.”
“Who did you promise?”
“God. The Great Healer of Branwen’s prayers. I promised that, if only I might somehow see again, I would give up my powers forever. And God heard my plea! But still . . . I should have used them back there. To save you! Promise or no promise.”
She peered at me through her tangle of curls. “Something tells me that this promise isn’t the only reason you didn’t want to use your powers.”
My mouth went dry. “The truth is, I fear them. With all my heart I fear them.” I pulled a reed out of the shallow water and twisted it roughly with my fingers. “Branwen once told me that God gave me those powers to use, if I could only learn to master them. To use them well, she said, with wisdom and love. But how can you use wisely something that you fear to touch? How can you use lovingly something that could destroy your eyes, your life, your very soul? It’s impossible!”
She waited quite a while before responding. Then she waved toward the white-capped waters. “The River Unceasing appears to be just a line of water, flowing from here to there. Yet he is more. Much more. He is all that he is—including whatever hides beneath the surface.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Everything. J think Branwen was right. If someone—God, Dagda, or whoever—gave you special powers, they are for you to use. Just as the River Unceasing has his own powers to use. You are all that you are.”
I shook my head. “So I should ignore my promise?”
“Don’t ignore it, but ask yourself if that is really what this God wanted you to do.”
“He gave me back my sight.”
“He gave you back your powers.”
“That’s insane!” I exclaimed. “You have no idea—”
A loud snort from somewhere nearby cut me off. I jumped, thinking it came from a wild boar. Then came the snort again, and I realized that it was not a boar after all. It was Shim. He had fallen asleep on the sandbar.
Rhia watched the tiny figure. “He snores loud enough to be a true giant.”
“At least, with him, you can see what he really is with just one look. With me, it’s not so simple.”
She turned back to me. “You worry about who you are too much. Just be yourself, and you’ll find out eventually.”
“Eventually!” I stood angrily. “Don’t try to tell me about my life. Stick to your own life, if you please.”
She stood to face me. “It might help you to think about somebody’s life besides your own! I’ve never met anybody more wrapped up in himself. You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met! Even if you are—” She stopped herself. “Forget it. Just go away and worry about yourself some more.”
“I think I’ll do just that.”
I stomped off into the thick forest by the River Unceasing. Too angry to watch where I was going, I crashed through the underbrush, bruising my shins and scraping my thighs. This made me all the angrier, and I cursed loudly. Finally, I sat down on a rotting trunk that was already mostly a mound of soil.
Suddenly I heard a gruff voice shout, “Get him!”
Two warrior goblins, the same ones we had eluded upstream, jumped from the underbrush and threw me to the ground. One of them pointed a sword at my chest. The other produced a large sack made of roughly stitched brown cloth.
“None of your tricks this time,” growled the goblin with the sword. He beckoned to the other with a burly, gray-green hand. “Get him in the sack.”
At that instant, a piercing whistle shot from the sky. The goblin with the sword cried out and fell back, his arm bleeding from the gouges of talons.
“Trouble!” I rolled out of the fray and jumped to my feet.
The merlin, talons slashing and wings flapping in the face of the goblin, drove him back several paces. Every time the goblin slashed with his sword, Trouble dived into his face, ripping at the eyes beneath the pointed helmet. Despite the huge size advantage of the goblin, the small hawk’s ferocity was proving too much.
But Trouble did not count on the other goblin joining the battle. Before I could shout any warning, the second warrior whipped his powerful hand through the air. He caught the hawk in mid-dive. Trouble slammed into the trunk of a tree and fell stunned to the ground. He lay there, utterly still, his wings spread wide.
The last thing I saw was the first goblin raising his sword to chop the merlin into pieces. Then something smashed me on the head and day turned into night.
24: THE SWITCH
Conscious again, I sat bolt upright. Though my head still swam, I could make out the massive boughs of trees all around me. I inhaled the rich, moist air. I listened to the quiet whispering of the branches, which sounded strangely somber. And I knew that I must still be in Druma Wood.
No sign anywhere of the goblins. Or of Trouble. Was it all a bad dream? Then why did my head hurt so much?
“You is awake, I sees.”
Startled, I turned. “Shim! What happened?”
The little giant examined me warily. “You is never very nicely to me. Is you going to hurts me if I tells you?”
“No, no. You can be sure of that. I won’t hurt you. Just tell me what happened.”
Still reticent, Shim rubbed his pear-shaped nose thoughtfully.
“I won’t hurt you. Certainly, definitely, absolutely.”
“All rights.” Keeping his distance, he paced back and forth on the mossy soil. “The girl, the nicely one, she hears you fightsing. She is upset the goblinses capture you. She wants to finds you, but I tells her this is madness. I do try, I do try!”
At this point he sniffed. His eyes, more pink than usual, squinted at me. A tear rolled down his cheek, making a wide curve around his nose.
“But she does not listen to Shim. I comes with her, but I is scared. Very, very, very scared. We comes through the woods and finds the place where you fights the goblinses.”
I grabbed him by the arm. Small though it was, it felt as muscled as a sailor’s. “Did you see a hawk? A little one?”
The little giant pulled away. “She finds some feathers, all bloody, by a tree. But no hawk. She is sad, Shim can tell. This hawk, he is your friend?”
Friend. The word surprised me as much as it saddened me. Yes, the bird I would have given anything to lose just a day ago had, indeed, become my friend. Just in time to leave me. Once again I knew the pain of losing what I had only just found.
“You is sad, too.”
“Yes,” I said quietly.
“Then you is not going to like the rest. It isn’t nicely, not at all.”
“Tell me.”
Shim stepped over to a hefty hemlock root and sat down dejectedly. “She follows your trail. Shim comes, too, but I is more and more scared. We finds the place where goblinses ca
mp. They is fightsing. Pushing and shouting. Then . . . she makes the switch.”
I gasped. “The switch?”
Another tear rolled down his cheek, rounding the edge of his nose. “I tells her not to do it! I tells her! But she shushes me quietly and sneaks up to the sack holding you. She unties it, pulls you out, over to these bushes. She tries, we both tries, to wakens you. But you is like dead. So she climbs into the sack herself! I tries to stop her, but she says . . .”
“What? Tell me!”
“She says that she must do it, for you is the Druma’s only hope.”
My heart turned into lead.
“Then the goblinses stop fightsing. Without looksing into the sack, they carries her off.”
“No! No! She shouldn’t have done that!”
Shim cringed. “I knows you is not going to like it.”
“As soon as they find her, they’ll . . . oh, it’s too horrible!”
“It is horrible, it is.”
Images of Rhia crowded my mind. Feasting beneath the fruity boughs of the shomorra. Showing me constellations in the darkest parts of the night sky. Greeting Arbassa with a shower of dew on her face. Wrapping her finger around my own. Watching me, and the glowing Galator, within the crystal cave.
“My only two friends, gone in the same day.” I slammed my fist against the moss-covered turf. “It’s always the same for me! Whatever I find, I lose.”
Shim’s tiny shoulders drooped. “And there’s nothing we can do to stops it.”
I swung my face toward his. “Oh, yes there is.” Wobbly though I was, I forced myself to stand. “I’m going after her.”
Shim recoiled, and nearly fell backward off the root. “You is full of madness!”
“Maybe so, but I’m not going to lose the one friend I have left without a fight. I’m going after them, wherever they took her. Even if it means going all the way to the Shrouded Castle itself.”
“Madness,” repeated Shim. “You is full of madness.”
“Which way did they go?”
“Down the river. They is marching fast.”
“Then I will, too. Good-bye.”
“Wait.” Shim grabbed hold of my knee. “I is full of madness myself.”