“The Dark Valley,” said Kate, her own voice feeling weak.
“The whole place feels haunted,” whispered Jody.
“How are we ever going to find Sanbu’s camp if we keep bumping into trees and falling into pits?” Kate’s eyes, already watery from the pervasive smoke, brimmed still more. “Now we’re never going to get the stick back.”
“Ask your Indian friend if she can lead us out of here,” said Jody.
“She’s already cut up from trying,” answered Kate. “She can’t see any better than we can.”
Laioni whispered somberly, “I’ve never felt like this before in the forest. I don’t know where to go, don’t know what’s ahead. The trees do not speak to me. Even Monga doesn’t know what to do.” A distant screeching sound rose up like raucous laughter. “It is the work of the Wicked One.”
“But what do we do now? How do we get out of here?”
Laioni gave no answer. Instinctively, the three voyagers moved closer together, standing like three small islands in a swirling sea of darkness. Monga, too, drew nearer, his tail curled tightly over his back. They listened to the gnashing and scraping limbs, the creaking and groaning trunks, the howling and screaming of invisible beings surrounding them.
Then, from the dark reaches of the forest, a new sound joined the others. It was warmer, fuller, flowing out of the trees like a sweet fragrance. A low, continuous sound. Like the call of an owl, but mellower, deeper.
“Kandeldandel,” said all three at once. Monga barked excitedly.
“It’s his flute, for sure,” cried Kate. “Maybe it can lead us out of here.”
“Let’s find him,” whispered Laioni.
As Kate started forward, Jody grabbed her by the arm. “Wait. Are you sure this isn’t just one of his tricks? He could be leading us over a cliff for all we know.”
“We’ll have to take the chance,” replied Kate. “It’s our only way out of here. Let’s go, before he stops playing.”
With Laioni in front, the three proceeded cautiously into the forest. Though the mysterious groanings of trees and beasts continued, the call of Kandeldandel’s flute filtered through to them. Whenever they seemed to be approaching its source, the music moved farther away, leading them onward.
Soon the terrain began to change. Instead of going down, they were climbing upward. Gradually, the smoky smell began to dissipate, and Kate began to see the shadowy outlines of trees and branches once again. Though no moon shone, the sky radiated a diffuse light, perhaps from the stars shining behind the curtain of clouds overhead. As they pushed higher, not pausing even to catch their breath, the gentle illumination from the sky grew stronger. She noticed that the trees were getting sparser, their trunks thinner.
She paused to study one of the spindly shapes, her eyes no longer irritated by smoke. “The trees,” she panted, “they’re getting shorter.”
“We’re climbing above the tree line,” huffed Jody. “Pretty soon there won’t be any trees at all.”
“Hush,” urged Laioni, her voice returning. “I think I know where we are now, and we must be quiet.”
Higher, ever higher, the hooting flute led them. Before long the needle-strewn ground evolved into broken bits of moss-covered rock. Large round boulders appeared more frequently, dotting the terrain. Forest noises no longer permeated the night air. As small shrubs and grasses replaced the gnarled and twisted trees, Kate’s vision improved still more and she began to perceive even subtle shapes like Monga’s pointed ears.
As the terrain grew more rocky, she leaned her back against a boulder and put her socks and sneakers on again. Jody looked at her in amazement as he passed by, realizing for the first time that she had been walking barefoot in the forest.
The music beckoned to them, drawing them still farther up the slope. This time, however, the flute did not seem to depart as they came near. As Kate stepped over the increasingly stony surface, she saw Laioni stop at a large boulder at the crest of the ridge no more than twenty yards ahead. As the owl-like music swelled in volume, she moved swiftly up the incline, reaching the boulder at the same time as Jody.
There, leaning casually against the opposite side of the boulder, was the Tinnani. His enormous round eyes flickered in Kate’s direction as she topped the rise, but otherwise he gave no sign of noticing that he had company. He trilled a few lilting notes on the flute, then lowered it from his half-grinning lips.
“Thank you,” said Laioni very softly.
Kandeldandel swiveled his head in her direction. “Thank you for what?” he asked, also in a quiet voice.
“For leading us out of that valley,” whispered Kate.
“Valley? What valley? I was just playing my flute, that’s all.”
“Come on,” replied Kate. “You know what you did.”
“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” hooted Kandeldandel quietly. “I just happened to be in the neighborhood again.”
“And we just happen to be glad you were,” said Kate, smiling.
The Tinnani’s yellow eyes met hers, connecting for an instant. Kate saw in them an unmistakable gleam of satisfaction, and she suspected, despite the protestations, that he was pleased.
Jody stepped forward and nudged Kate’s elbow. “Man, am I glad to get out of there.” Then he added, without looking at Kandeldandel, “Since you know how to talk to him, why don’t you tell him thanks from me too?”
The Tinnani lifted his tufted brows. “His manners are improving.”
“In a big way,” answered Kate.
“Too bad,” replied the flute player, sounding disappointed. “He was much more fun the other way.”
At that moment, Laioni gasped. Kate turned to see her staring at a ridge that ran parallel to their own, slightly higher and to the left. Like theirs, it climbed ever more steeply into the clouds, ultimately to join the massive shoulder of a mountain summit. Mountain, Kate realized with a jolt. This must be Gashra’s mountain.
Then she saw what Laioni had seen. Near the top of the visible flank of the ridge burned a single campfire. Three or four figures, dimly lit by the golden glow, danced slowly in front of the flames. Listening very carefully, she caught the barest hint of human voices chanting in unison.
“Sanbu’s camp?” she whispered.
Laioni viewed her gravely. “That is where we will find our hope—or meet our death.”
At that moment, Monga stepped deliberately between the two of them. He shook himself once vigorously, as if he had just emerged from a swim. Then, turning toward Kate, he barked. But instead of a dog’s bark, he spoke three unmistakable words.
“It is time,” said the dog.
24
attack
KATE’S anxious eyes met Laioni’s. “Did you hear that?”
“I heard it.”
“But who—”
“We will know soon enough,” the Halami girl whispered. “Let’s go. Sunrise is near, and it will take some time to get up there.”
Then Jody spoke, his gaze fixed on the distant campfire. “They must have some guards around here someplace. But where?”
“No way to tell from here,” said Kate.
“We can’t just walk right into them,” countered Jody.
“Do you have a better idea?” Kate demanded, trying hard not to raise her voice.
Before the boy could reply, Kandeldandel took off with a flapping of his wide wings. Flute clutched in one hand, he rose into the air and glided into a billowing bank of clouds.
“Guess that’s the last we’re gonna see of him,” said Jody.
Kate followed the white-winged figure until it disappeared from sight. “Don’t be so sure.”
“We should go,” said Laioni, glancing at each of the others.
“I wish we had stopped Sanbu when he was alone,” said Kate.
Jody shook his head. “It’s not like we didn’t try. This time, though, we have surprise on our side.”
“Hope we have some luck too,” added Kat
e.
Monga pawed the ground uneasily. Then, suddenly, he lifted his head with a jerk.
Above them, a familiar white figure emerged from the gray clouds. Down Kandeldandel plummeted like a meteor. Then at the last possible instant, he veered up before landing on top of the boulder. He folded his wings behind his back and said simply, “There is only one guard.”
“What did he say?” asked Jody.
“One guard,” answered Kate. “He must have checked it out from above.” Then, facing the Tinnani, she asked, “Where is he?”
“Never mind,” said Kandeldandel. “I’ll take care of him.” He considered the idea briefly, then added with a smirk, “It will be a pleasure.”
“Don’t take any chances,” warned Laioni. “Someone is going to die before this is over.”
“It won’t be me,” replied Kandeldandel briskly. Then his permanent grin faded. “I have a score to settle with Sanbu.”
“A score?” Kate scrutinized him. “You mean what he did to Arc?”
The Tinnani fiddled with his flute for a moment. “That, and something else. Something big enough that I want to do a lot more than just put out his fire.” He faced Kate squarely. “You see,” he said slowly, “my full name is Kandeldandel Zinzin.”
“Zinzin…” Kate furrowed her brow. “Wasn’t that the name of—”
“The traitor who stole the Broken Touchstone,” finished the Tinnani. “The one who was murdered by Sanbu.” His round yellow eyes narrowed. “He was my father.”
“I understand,” said Kate.
“No you don’t,” retorted Kandeldandel. “How could you? How could anyone? But it doesn’t matter, as long as the lowly musician who happens to be his son can avenge his death, and Arc’s too. And maybe restore a tiny bit of honor to an old family name in the process.”
“All right,” declared Kate. “You can take the guard if that’s what you want. But let’s get one thing straight, here and now. You’re more than just some lowly musician. You’re one of us.”
Kandeldandel fluttered his wings uncomfortably. “Fine,” he said, “but just don’t try to depend on me. That’s the one thing I can’t stand, someone depending on me.”
“Okay, then. We won’t depend on you to nail that guard. We’ll just hope like the dickens you do it.”
The Tinnani nodded. “That’s better.”
“Hey, check this out,” said Jody, forgetting to keep his voice quiet.
“Shhhhh,” admonished Kate. Then she saw what he had discovered: a long flint-tipped spear resting on the ground by the boulder. “That looks like Sanbu’s,” she whispered in surprise.
“It is,” hooted Kandeldandel. “I brought it with me, just in case.”
Jody hefted the heavy spear, struggling to hold it with his one good arm. But it clearly required two hands—or one the size of Sanbu’s—to carry it.
“That won’t work,” said Kate. “Let me take it.”
“Well, all right,” agreed the boy reluctantly. “Guess I’ll have to stick with my knife.”
“We must go,” whispered Laioni in earnest. “The sun will rise soon.”
Kate gripped the spear firmly, hoping she might once again hold the Stick of Fire. “Let’s go.”
At that the Tinnani took flight, rising silently and swiftly into the clouds. Kate, Jody, and Laioni, Monga at her heels, began to traverse the rugged, rock-littered terrain to the parallel ridge. They descended into a steep-walled canyon carved by successive rock slides from the higher elevations. Crammed with broken boulders, the canyon required jumping from rock to rock, always gauging one’s weight carefully to avoid slipping. Even without his limp, the usually sure-footed Monga would have found the crossing difficult.
Finally they left the boulder field and started to scale the neighboring ridge. The terrain was steep, but at least they could walk again. They pushed upward, panting from exertion, even as the eastern sky began to lighten above them. Kate felt the temperature drop noticeably as they ascended, drawing closer to the lumbering clouds that obscured the sky. Then, for no apparent reason, her bandaged hand began to ache.
Suddenly, a triangular green head lifted above a large boulder not far ahead. Two thin yellow eyes focused directly on Kate. Then the lizardlike being reared up on his hind legs. He raised his hands to his mouth and readied to call out a warning.
Kate seized Laioni’s arm and pointed at the Slimni. Just then, a winged figure rocketed down from the clouds, talons extended. As the Slimni started to shout, Kandeldandel attacked from behind, digging his talons deep into the green scales of the creature’s back. With a squeal of pain, the Slimni dropped his hands and twisted violently to free himself. Kandeldandel rolled sideways off the boulder, pulling the reptile with him. They fell out of sight.
The group clambered as fast as they could up to the boulder. Monga, first to arrive, froze at the spot. He stood still, growling barely audibly, until the others joined him.
There, standing over the body of the slain Slimni, stood Kandeldandel. Black blood was splattered on his talons and once-white abdominal feathers. The lizardlike being, though nearly decapitated, still grasped one of his legs. Finally the Tinnani succeeded in pulling free, then said in a low voice to Monga, “You can stop growling now.” Spinning his head toward Kate, he added, “One down, five to go.”
“That’s how many you saw?” questioned Kate, placing her throbbing left hand protectively under her right armpit.
Kandeldandel, still clutching his flute, tried to shake the black blood from his leg feathers. “That’s all. There might have been more inside one of the huts, but I don’t think so. They were celebrating, and no scoundrel likes to miss a party.”
“We’re in luck, then,” whispered Laioni. “The rest must be off hunting.”
“Or pillaging,” threw in Kandeldandel.
“Is Sanbu there?” asked Kate.
“He is.”
“Did you see the walking stick?”
The Tinnani’s gaze fell. “No. Either he’s already given it to the Wicked One, or it’s in one of the huts. My eyesight is good enough I’m sure I didn’t miss it.”
“Pretty good spying for a lowly musician,” said Kate, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “I sure hope they still have it. Otherwise all this is for nothing.” She paused. “Hey, listen.”
From far up the ridge came the chanting of husky voices, wafting on the wind. A single drum pounded relentlessly in the background.
“A victory chant,” observed Laioni.
“Come on,” said Kate. “Let’s spoil their party.”
Stealthily, the attackers crept forward across the rocks. Monga led the way, though still hobbled from his last encounter with Sanbu. The brave dog pushed himself to go first, for he, too, had some business to settle at the camp. Laioni followed him closely, hunching her back to keep low. Next came Kate, carrying the spear parallel to the ground so it would not be seen by Sanbu or his men. Just behind came Kandeldandel and Jody, allies for the moment at least.
As they advanced, the chanting voices grew gradually louder. Finally, Monga stopped at the side of a large boulder covered with orange lichen, wagging his prodigious tail. As Kate and the others joined him, crouching behind the boulder, they could see the camp just ahead. Five men, one larger than the rest, sat on stones beside the flames, poking the fire with sticks and singing. All wore deerskin loincloths and black streaks painted across their cheekbones. The warriors seemed unprepared for battle, their black hair falling loose to their shoulders.
In contrast to the encampment of Laioni’s mother, no tools decorated the ground. Instead, Kate saw three spears, all with the same gray head as Sanbu’s, a stone hatchet, several knives, a large pile of firewood, and a bow with two flint-tipped arrows leaning against a stone nearby. The half-eaten carcass of a mutilated deer lay discarded near the fire, covered with flies.
The larger man turned to say something to one of the others, who laughed boisterously in response. As the big man ros
e to his feet, Kate sucked in her breath, for she could see he was indeed Sanbu. He stepped over to the other warrior and pushed him backward off his stone. The smaller man sprung to his feet and said something in an angry voice, whereupon Sanbu struck him in the jaw with a brutal blow. The warrior fell backward onto the rocky terrain, groaning as he rolled to one side.
Sanbu strutted back to his place and sat down again. He grabbed a slice of dried meat from the man seated next to him, then uttered a command. The warriors resumed their chanting. One of them pounded heavily on a drum of stretched deerskin. Sanbu’s victim rejoined the group, rubbing his tender jaw. Meanwhile, the first reddish rays of sunrise struck the camp, bathing the men and their two brush huts with rubescent light.
“If Monga could jump one of them, that would distract the others,” Kate whispered to Laioni. “Then we could search the huts for the stick.”
Laioni whispered into Monga’s ear, which stood rigid and alert on his head. The bushy tail swished from side to side until she had finished. For an instant his dark eyes connected with Laioni’s, then he bounded off toward the campfire.
Suddenly, he halted, sniffing the air. Laioni turned to Kate and said anxiously, “Something’s wrong.”
Monga abruptly changed his course. Instead of pouncing on one of the men seated by the fire, he veered sharply to the side and bolted for one of the brush huts. At that instant, a shaggy brown dog, a full head taller than Monga, emerged from the entrance. With a ferocious bark, the dog sprang at Monga, who met him in midair just outside the hut. They dropped to the ground, rolling over each other and snarling viciously.
Kate, Laioni, and Jody dashed into the camp, as Kandeldandel took flight. The five warriors leaped to their feet, reaching for their weapons. Sanbu saw Kate running toward him, carrying his own spear, and he let loose an earsplitting cry of vengeance. The powerful Halami picked up a spear, reared back, and hurled it at Kate.
Just as Sanbu released it, something knocked against his arm, throwing his aim askew. The spear clattered against the rocks as Kandeldandel, talons extended, descended on top of him. Screeching like twenty owls, the Tinnani swiped across his shoulder, cutting deep into the flesh. Sanbu whirled around, grabbing one feathered leg with both of his burly hands. He threw Kandeldandel to the ground and bent to grab the stone hatchet.