Jane and the Raven King (16 page)

W
hen the rickety elevator expanded, Finn became a dragon again, and he said, “I don’t know where they took Gaius. When I went back to Castle Alsod, he was gone.” The gymnasium elevator lights came on. One of Finn’s gigantic hind legs was swaddled in bandages. “We need your help, Jane. We’re in a lot of trouble here.”

When the elevator doors opened, she saw why. The animals were gone. The old bobbin ruins were empty, and the grass was dead. The ground was so dry that it was cracked like a desert or a dusty eggshell. The daylight was faded and sepia-gray. A skin of ugly clouds covered the sky, and three points curled around the Hotland sun, as if a giant bird claw were squeezing it.

“What is
that?
” Jane asked.

“A spell,” Finn said. “The Raven King’s magic has spread everywhere.”

“Where are all the animals?”

“Gone. The Raven King trapped them here and turned them into sansi.”

Stickmen,
Jane thought.
Like what’s happening to Michael.
She showed Finn the knife: horizontal lines; the dot with five lines; a circle; vertical lines; and the upside-down
V
. “Do you see these
pictures? I think it might be a map to someplace called the Steel Mountain. Do you know how to get there?”

“Yes, it’s on the eastern side of the Old Wall,” Finn said. “It’s where the Raven King lives.”

“The Raven King can’t
see
the Name of the World,” Jane said. “It’s invisible to him. I think the Name of the World is on the Steel Mountain.”

“You mean it’s been sitting under his bed or something this whole time? I don’t know—this is dangerous, Jane. Are you sure it’s there?”

“No.”

“Ooo-kay.” Finn said. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Behind them, the elevator dinged. Manali stepped out. “You were just going to leave without me, yeah?”

“Manali!” Jane ran to hug her. “How did you get here?”

“I opened a door to Hotland in a phone booth three blocks from my house. Hi, Finn. Have you found the Name of the World yet? No? When this is all over, we’ll get our picture taken to confuse our grandchildren. How’s that?” After she climbed onto Finn’s back, Manali said, “Hold on a minute. Where’s Gaius?”

I
can’t believe how quiet it is,” Manali said.

After they left the bobbin ruins, they followed the Sunburn Road toward the Purple Marsh. They were still too far away to see much, but Jane could already tell that the marsh was gone. The horizon was swollen and black, like burnt plastic.
Everything is going to be like this if we don’t stop him,
Jane thought.
The Raven King is like someone throwing a temper tantrum, breaking everything around him. I’m not afraid of him,
she told herself. But the nervous jags in her chest meant that wasn’t true.

“If our grandparents could stop him,” Manali said, “we can too.”

Jane said, “I know.”

“You’re worrying too much, Jane. Your grandmother said a Sharp Map guided her. You’ve got the map—all we have to do is follow it to the Name of the World and the Raven King. Don’t you know how stories like this end? The bad guy always loses.”

“What if this is different?”

“Different how?”

“Different like Shakespeare,” Jane said. “What if everyone dies at the end?”

“This isn’t make-believe,” Manali said. “We get to choose what happens.”

They ate cold cucumber and lamb sandwiches Manali had
packed, and soon they reached the edge of the Purple Marsh. The trees were crumpled and black with ash, as if someone had emptied a giant fireplace over them. The red water had all dried up, and the air smelled like burnt popcorn. Nothing moved.

“Hellooo!” a voice called below.

Finn called, “Who’s there?”

“Finn, you big dog, where have you been?” The lady frog—the same frog who had worn lipstick and let them enter the swamp with Gaius the last time—crawled out of a hole. “Do you see what he did to my swamp?”

“I know, Sandra. I’m sorry,” Finn said. “I’m glad you’re still here. You’re the first one we’ve seen.”

“The others are hiding,” she said. “But there aren’t many. Where’s Gaius? I thought he’d be with you.”

“No,” Finn said. “They got him.”

Sandra croaked in soft shudders, like a child trying not to cry. “The Raven King finally got Gaius too, huh?”

“Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

“Excuse me,” Jane said. “Ms. Frog—”

“Just Sandra, dear.”

Jane drew the black knife. “Have you ever heard of the Steel Mountain?”

Sandra disappeared into the hole. “Are you mad? Put that away, child! Away—away!”

Jane slipped the knife back into her pocket. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”

“All of you, get! You’ll have the sansi swarming like buzzards!” she shouted from inside the hole. “Go! Less talking, more flying, you big dumb dog!”

B
ig dumb dog,” Finn muttered when they were airborne. “Sandra is lucky there’s nothing left to burn down.”

Jane said, “Finn!”

“What? Do I look like a dog to you? I’m a dragon.
Dra-gon
.”

Manali said, “I don’t understand why she would be afraid of the knife. Maybe she knows something we don’t.”

Finn snorted. “She knows diddly.”

“Finn, if Gaius trusted her, I’m sure—” Jane’s voice caught in her throat. “Is that…?”

“I’m afraid so,” Finn said.

Ahead Castle Alsod was a crater. The great tree had been gashed right down the middle and torn open like a burrito that had burst in the microwave. The outer walls had been ripped apart, and hunks of marble, glass, smashed gears, and chair legs were scattered everywhere. Finn didn’t land.

“Is she dead?” Jane asked.

“No,” Finn said. “She’s just badly hurt. But if Gaius doesn’t come back to heal Alsod, she will die, yes.”

They flew in silence until the ruined castle and swamp were behind them. The hills of the Soldier’s Forum—where the dodo gave Thomas Grandma Diana’s armor—were bare, and in the
distance, a white wall crossed the plain. There were regular lines along its side, like the layers of a canyon. The wall was taller than the buildings in New York and it went on forever in both directions.

Finn said, “The Old Wall is the only thing still standing in Hotland that was here before the Raven King. Nobody knows who built it or why.”

Jane looked at her knife again. The first picture was a series of horizontal lines.
And there it is,
she thought.
The Old Wall. We’re almost there.

T
he top of the Old Wall was as wide as a big river. On the western side, behind them, the daylight was hazy, and the ground was dust and weeds for miles. The eastern side of the Old Wall was different. Ahead the sky was black. Far below, the ground
squirmed
, as if it were covered with tin-colored earthworms. Lightning snarled through the blackness, and Jane glimpsed something—a giant tree?—standing on the distant plain. There was no thunder.

Jane’s palms were sweaty, and every time the unnatural lightning flashed, she heard her heartbeat in both ears.

“Are you scared?” Manali asked quietly.

Jane’s fingers were trembling, so she clasped her hands together. “No.”

“I am.”

I don’t want to do this,
Jane thought.
I just want to go back home and live a normal life. I don’t even care if kids make fun of me at school or if Mrs. Alterman is angry because I didn’t get my spelling test signed. I just want this all to be a dream. I want to wake up.

“Are you ready?” Finn said.

Lightning flashed again, like a white-hot sword in ink.

Manali squeezed her hand, and Jane said, “Yes, let’s go.”

They flew into the darkness. The air was hot and thick, like dirty
soup. Lightning flashed overhead, and Finn flew lower so Jane had a better view of the ground. At first she thought it was covered with snakes or worms…but it wasn’t. They were pipes. The ground was a nest of iron pipes with gaping ends that looked like suckers or mouths. Jane shivered.

Lightning struck the ground with an electric charge that made Jane jump. All the hair on her head and along the backs of her arms frizzed and stood up. Finn flew faster and closer to the ground. Jane heard the pipes creaking and whining, like the joints of a mechanical animal. The pipes were reaching up.
It’s my imagination,
she thought. But it wasn’t; the pipes were trying to reach Finn.

In another lightning flash, she saw that the tree shape ahead was actually a colossal hand blocking their path. As big as a mountain, the rust-iron hand was frozen as if someone—
something
—had been buried while he was reaching for the sky.
We’re too close!
Jane thought.
If we don’t go up, we’ll crash into the wrist!

Finn pulled up, beating his wings so hard that Manali slid backward and Jane screamed, “Finn!” They raced higher, rushing over the palm of the hand, toward a gap between the thumb and forefinger.

“Almost there!” Finn shouted. “Don’t let—”

Lightning struck his wing.

L
ike a bug hit by a flyswatter, Finn dropped.

Manali yelled, “Jane!” and rolled off. They weren’t high above the hand’s palm—maybe ten feet—but they were moving fast, and as Jane fell with Finn, the metal hit her shoulder hard. She cartwheeled and bounced—and stopped.

Jane’s right leg was dangling off the edge of the palm, one hundred feet above the swarm of pipes.

“Jane, are you okay?”

Jane rolled away from the edge, and Manali helped her up. Jane was bruised and her elbow throbbed, but nothing seemed broken. She could walk. Finn was worse. He slumped against the hand’s thumb, his right wing shredded and smoking. He groaned as he sat up.

“Is everyone all right?” he called. “Everyone but me, I mean…?”

“We’re okay,” Jane said. “Are you hurt?”

“Of course I’m hurt. I got struck by lightning.” Finn smiled and twisted his broken wing onto his back. “We were lucky. If that had hit us over the pipes, we’d be worm food by now.”

“What are they?” Jane asked.

“The pipes? On topside Earth, pipes swallow just about anything you put in them—water, food, you name it. This is where all those
pipes come out. But these pipes haven’t eaten anything in a long time, so they’re hungry.”

“Lucky we landed up here,” Manali said.

“Lucky for now,” Finn said. “This is the Tolec Hand. A long time ago, the Tolec Giants tried to take over Hotland. The Raven King didn’t let them.”

Lightning flashed, and in the light, Jane saw that the blanket of pipes ended at a curl of pale ground ahead.
It’s so close,
she thought. But it was still too far away to jump or glide to—and they were too high anyway.

“The thing is,” Finn said, “the giants were made out of metal. Do you know what happens when electricity touches metal?”

“Metal conducts electricity,” Jane said.

“Exactly. Which means the next time lightning strikes this hand, we’ll all be fried to a crisp.”

Manali said, “Are you sure you can’t fly? Can we jump or glide or something?”

Finn checked the distance across the last pipes. “No. It’s too far.” Lightning zapped a nearby pipe in a burst of sparks that shook the hand. “But I guess we have to try. Get on my back—quickly!”

Manali climbed up, but Jane didn’t move.

“Did you feel that?” she said.

“Jane, get on,” Manali said.

“Are the Tolec Giants dead?” Jane asked. “Is this hand connected to a body underground?”

“I have no idea,” Finn said. “Now hop on.”

“Listen, I don’t think we can jump that far. You hurt your wing.”

Finn said, “We don’t have a choice.”

“Tickle him,” Jane said. “Blow fire on his fingertips.”

“Are you joking?”

“It’s too far,” Jane said. Lightning snapped and just barely missed the pinky finger. The hand shook again. “See?” Jane said. “Come on, Finn. Tickle his fingers!”

When Finn started to protest, Manali said, “Jane’s right, Finn. Give it a try.”

Finn took a deep breath that puffed out his chest like a bird and then leaned forward, as if he were sneezing in slow motion. Fire shot out of his mouth like water from a garden hose. The flames sprayed over the tip of the thumb, curling in waves around the enormous fingernail. The hand shuddered; the fingers flexed down.

Lightning flashed behind them.
We’re almost out of time,
Jane thought.
Move, you stupid giant! Move!
Slowly the forefinger curled down, down—until the tip touched the giant palm at the base of the thumb…

Manali shouted, “Jane!” and Jane scrambled onto Finn’s back as the gigantic forefinger flicked them off. Finn grunted as the fingertip walloped his butt, and they were thrown like a piece of fluff. Finn flapped his good wing, and they spun in a crazy loop as lightning flashed on both sides. The pipes rushed closer, closer—and Finn made it over, crash-landing on the smooth rock.