Freeglader (19 page)

‘Ready?’ she asked.

Three heads nodded and she pierced the wooden barrel with a razor-sharp talon, releasing a foaming stream of ale into the trough. The three heads went down and the air filled with the sound of heavy slurping.

‘You're welcome,’ said Mother Bluegizzard cheerfully, wiping her claw on her apron. ‘Now, how about another tot of woodgrog, Captain?’ she chuckled, turning to a tall, gaunt figure with a thick matted beard.

He was another one of her regulars. The Mire Pirate, they called him, but as he never spoke, no one knew his real name. He'd turned up in New Undertown more than a dozen years earlier and had soon found his way to the Bloodoak, where he had been a regular ever since. Certainly he looked like a sky pirate and from his

bleached skin, it was clear he'd spent much time in the Mire, hence his nickname. And yet, to Mother Bluegizzard, it was his eyes that were the most mysterious thing about him.

Misty and unblinking, those pale, staring eyes somehow managed to give the impression that they had seen sights that no one should ever witness – though, since she'd never heard him utter a single word, it was impossible to tell for sure.

Over in the other corner, the festivities were livening up.

‘A toast!’ cried Deadbolt Vulpoon, rising a little unsteadily to his feet. ‘To us!’ he proclaimed, raising his tankard. ‘Free-gladersh!’

‘Freegladers!’ cried Felix.

‘Fr-uh-gl-uh-wuh!’ yodelled the banderbears.

Deadbolt turned to them as he fell back into his seat, his eyes twinkling mischievously. ‘
Wuh-wuh-wuh
,’ he grunted. ‘I can't unnerstan' a wor' you say!’

Wuralo and Weeg chortled to themselves. Wumeru nodded and gave an airy wave of her left arm. ‘Weelawuh, wurra-yoola-wuh,’ she murmured.

‘Wha' she say? Wha' she say?’ said Deadbolt, turning to Rook.

Rook smiled, his eyes softly glowing. ‘She said, “The woodale has loosened old Tanglebeard's tongue. Soon he will be yodelling!”’

The sky pirate roared with laughter. ‘Why not,’ he said. ‘It don't seem too hard.’ Throwing back his head, he bellowed out loud, ‘Wuh-uh-uh-wuh-ooooo!’

Felix turned to him, his hands clamped over his ears. ‘What on earth was
that
?’ he said.

‘Wasn't it obvious?’ said Deadbolt, pointing into his empty tankard. ‘I'm thirsty!’

Felix laughed. ‘Woodale all round! And more squashed fruit for our hairy friends here!’ he added, winking over at Fevercule, the tavern waif.

Deadbolt got to his feet and pulled each banderbear in turn to theirs. ‘Now, here's a language we can all share!’ he laughed, and began dancing an unsteady jig.

Rumbling with deep laughter, the banderbears joined in.

Felix turned to Rook, his eyes twinkling, and frowned. ‘Rook?’ he said. ‘Are you all right?’

His friend was pale and the rings beneath his eyes were darker than ever.

‘It's just that I get so tired,’ Rook said, sitting back in his chair. ‘And yet I can hardly sleep. Thoughts and half-remembered images race through my mind in a jumble. I can remember some things as if they happened yesterday, but others are a complete blank…’

‘Do you remember this?’ asked Felix, pulling a sword out from beneath his cloak.

‘My sword …’ said Rook slowly, frowning as a lost thought hovered at the edge of his memory. ‘But it's … it's the one you gave me,’ he said, ‘all that time ago. Back in the underground library. I remember losing it in old Undertown…’

‘And yet I found it in the Deepwoods,’ said Felix, ‘in the possession of one Xanth Filatine – the same Xanth
Filatine who led you astray in the Edgelands. Claims he found it.’ He snorted. ‘A likely story! He and his Guardian of Night friends probably looted it, and he's too ashamed to admit it.’ He shook his head. ‘He's a bad lot, that one, and no mistake,’ he said. ‘Didn't I tell you to watch out for him?’

‘Xanth Filatine,’ Rook repeated. ‘I remember him from our time together at Lake Landing … He was unmasked as an agent of the Guardians of Night … But after that … nothing.’ He looked up at Felix. ‘Where is he now?’

‘Don't worry about him,’ said Felix gruffly. ‘He's being taken care of.’

‘I don't understand,’ said Rook.

‘He's being held in the Gardens of Light beneath the Ironwood Glade,’ said Felix. ‘And that's where he's going to stay until his Reckoning. And from what I hear, there are plenty who intend to speak out against him when the time comes, myself included…’

‘Rook Barkwater!’ exclaimed a voice. ‘As I live and breathe. Rook Barkwater!’

Felix and Rook turned to see a stout individual standing behind them, his hands on his hips and a huge grin on his face.

‘Don't tell me you don't know who I am!’ he said, sounding hurt. ‘It's me, Stob. Stob Lummus.’

‘Stob Lummus,’ Rook repeated thoughtfully.

‘They told me at Lake Landing that I'd find you here,’ he said, ‘and here you are!’ He leaned forwards and pumped Rook's arm up and down. ‘It's so good to see you.’

‘It's good to see
you
, too,’ said Rook, struggling to make sense of the jumble of memories clattering about in his head. ‘Lake Landing … We were apprentices together, weren't we? You, me, Magda, and Xanth…’

The smile faded from Stob's face. ‘They told me of your trouble, Rook,’ he said. ‘A sepia storm. Is it true that that traitor, Xanth Filatine, led you into it on purpose?’

‘I … I …’ said Rook. ‘My memory, it's…’

‘I understand, old friend,’ said Stob, patting him on the back. ‘A good dose of pure Free Glade air and you'll soon be on the mend…’

‘Hammelhorn,’ Rook blurted out. ‘You carved your skycraft in the shape of a hammelhorn.’

‘That's right,’ said Stob, nodding enthusiastically. ‘Mine was a hammelhorn, Magda's was a woodmoth and yours was a stormhornet.’ He frowned. ‘And Xanth's was a…’

‘A ratbird,’ said Rook.

Felix snorted. ‘That figures,’ he said darkly.

They were joined by the banderbears, who now supported a sleeping Deadbolt Vulpoon between them. Stob shook their paws, one after the other. ‘Welcome to the Free Glades. Welcome, indeed!’ he said to each in
turn, pausing when he came to Deadbolt. He looked questioningly at Rook.

‘Don't mind him,’ laughed Felix, getting up. ‘He's been warmly welcomed enough for one evening. Come, we'll find cosy hammocks waiting for us in the Hive Huts.’

Just then, the entrance doors flew in. Everyone inside the tavern fell still, the chaotic hubbub of loud voices and raucous song instantly replaced by the sonorous chanting of low voices.

‘Ooh-maah, oomalaah. Ooh-maah, oomalaah. Ooh-maah, oomalaah…’

All eyes fell on the line of oakelves – seven in all – as they marched in, and wound their way round the crowded room. Their turquoise hooded robes were stained by the juice of lullabee trees and rustled slightly as they walked.

‘The Oakelf Brotherhood of Lullabee Island,’ Fevercule's whisper sounded in Mother Bluegizzard's head.

The one at the front swung an incense-burner on chains to and fro, to and fro, filling the air with sweet aromatic smoke, while at the back the last oakelf in the line rang a heavy bell, over and over, like the tolling of a death-knell.

‘Ooh-maah, oomalaah. Ooh-maah…’

‘To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?’ clucked Mother Bluegizzard, trying to disguise the peevishness in her voice. These oakelves certainly knew how to spoil a party.

The procession brushed past her and made for the corner of the room. The Mire Pirate's unblinking eyes followed it. All at once, the oakelf leading the small procession stopped in front of Rook Barkwater and lowered his hood. His face was as brown and gnarled as the trees the creatures had taken their names from. The chanting softened to a low, ululating drone. Above it, the oakelf spoke.

‘We come in search of the one who was touched by the sepia storm,’ he said, his voice frail and cracked.

He reached out with the censer and swung it, sending wreaths of smoke coiling round Rook's head. The young librarian knight's pale blue eyes gleamed more brightly than ever.

‘Come with us,’ said the oakelf, as the chanting grew louder once more. ‘To Lullabee Island.’

• CHAPTER TEN •
LULLABEE ISLAND

‘L
ullabee Island?’ said Rook, taking the oakelf's outstretched hand and finding himself looking into eyes so black that it was like staring into the depths of open sky itself. Twinkling there were lights, as bright as the stars, as full as the moon; yet as he looked more closely, he realized that it was his own eyes – eerily glowing – which were reflecting back at him.

‘You are tired, yet cannot sleep?’ asked the oakelf.

‘Yes,’ said Rook.

‘Your head is full of thoughts and memories,’ the oakelf continued, ‘and yet you can find no peace?’

‘Yes,’ said Rook, his eyes glowing more brightly than ever.

‘Then come with us to Lullabee Island. My name is Grailsooth, and these …’ He waved a hand to indicate the others, and Rook was aware of the disconcerting gaze of six more pairs of dark eyes. ‘These are my fellow brothers from the lullabee grove there. We have dreamed
of you, Rook Barkwater, and have come to offer you what help we can.’

The silence in the tavern was broken by the clatter of a beaker of woodgrog as it slipped from the old Mire Pirate's hand and clattered to the floor.

‘I'll come with you,’ Rook said, his voice hardly more than a whisper.

He stood up and the oakelves turned to go. Felix jumped to his feet, followed by the banderbears on either side of him, low growls in their throats.

Deadbolt slid to the floor and began to snore softly.

‘Rook!’ Felix's voice was imploring. ‘You're not well. You can't just disappear off to some grove on some island in the middle of the night…’

‘Calm yourself, gentle sir,’ clucked Mother Blue-gizzard, laying a restraining talon on Felix's arm. ‘These are the Oakelf Brotherhood. They spread peace and healing throughout the Free Glades.’ All round the tavern, heads nodded. ‘Their ways might seem strange to you and me, but no harm will come to your young friend in their care, I can promise you that.’

The banderbears looked at each other, their ears fluttering, then stepped aside and bowed their heads. The oakelves' turquoise robes rustled as they shuffled in single file towards the door, Rook following after.

‘You don't have to go with them,’ Felix called out as his friend reached the door to the tavern. ‘Just say the word and…’

Rook turned and smiled. ‘It's all right, Felix,’ he said, his voice weary and hoarse-sounding. His pale blue eyes
were glowing so brightly that Felix gasped. ‘Perhaps they can help me.’

‘Would you like us to come with you?’ Felix persisted, starting towards him. ‘We can if you want.’

Mother Bluegizzard's ruff sprang up around her throat and she shook her beak at Felix. ‘No, no, gentle sir, that just won't do. Only those invited can set foot on Lullabee Island. Everybody knows that. Now why don't you all have another drink, and let them take care of your friend?’

Wumeru took Felix gently by the arm and guided him back to his chair. ‘Wuh-wuh,’ she muttered softly.

Felix stopped. He couldn't understand the great lumbering beast, but he knew that she, as Rook's oldest, most trusted banderbear friend, would not allow anything bad to happen to him. If her instincts were to trust these oakelves, then who was he to disagree? He looked back. At the far side of the room, the door to the New Bloodoak Tavern swung open, the column of oakelves – Rook among them – walked out, and the door slammed shut behind them.

In the corner, the Mire Pirate, who had climbed from his seat and was watching the young librarian knight intently, a puzzled frown lining his brow, abruptly sat down once more.

The next moment, as if nothing at all had happened, all round the New Bloodoak Tavern, the revellers at every table took up where they had left off – every table, that is, expect for the one where Rook's friends had been sitting.

‘Well, if we can't go with him to this Lullabee Island,’ Felix murmured, as Deadbolt let out a loud snore, ‘then the least we can do is go down to the lake shore and wait for him to return.’ He shook his head. ‘Though something tells me it's going to be a long night.’