Kendra Kandlestar and the Box of Whispers (11 page)

THE SUN HAD BARELY PEEKED over the horizon when the company awoke the next morning. They hurriedly broke camp and set forth into the mountains. After an hour or so, they arrived at a wide crevice that cut the mountainside in two.

“I’ve never seen such a strange canyon,” Jinx remarked.

“That’s because this ain’t no canyon,” Pugglemud said. “It’s a path.”

“A path!” Professor Bumblebean exclaimed. “My word! It’s gargantuan.”

“Well, it was made by giants, don’t ya know,” the Dwarf said. “They hacked a road right through the mountain. This here path should lead us right to the back door of the castle.”

“Oh, my,” Oki fretted. “Maybe I’ll just stay here and guard the entrance to the mountains and make sure no one follows you in.”

“Make sure you don’t think of onions then,” Jinx said. “That way you won’t notice the giants when they come up behind you.”

“On second thought, I’ll just stick with you guys,” Oki said quickly.

Without further discussion, they entered the mountain crevice and began their way up the rough and rugged path. The cliffs on either side rose sharply above them, casting them in shadow. Soon, they were all huffing and puffing, for the path was so steep that in some places it felt as if they were climbing rather than walking.

About midday they turned the corner and came face-to-face with a gigantic axe, lying haphazardly against one side of the mountain pass. The menacing weapon looked as if it had been there for hundreds of years. Its wooden handle had mostly rotted away while its blade was dented and streaked with rust. Next to the axe was a clutter of strange objects: bent and twisted shapes of yellow. Some were black and charred as if they had been scorched by fire. There was also what seemed to Kendra to be an immense boulder, though it was also yellow, and strangely round on top.

“Let me guess,” Jinx said, gazing upon the huge axe with an envious glint in her eye. “This must have belonged to a giant.”

“W-w-we must be drawing closer to the castle, I suppose,” Professor Bumblebean declared, stammering with fear in spite of himself.

“But what are all these other strange objects?” Kendra asked, looking at the yellow shapes. “They look like logs. But then where are the trees?”

“There ain’t no trees because they ain’t logs,” Pugglemud declared. “They’re bones! The bones of a giant. And see, that big boulder-like thing? That’s what’s left o’ his skull.”

“Oh, my word!” Professor Bumblebean gasped, finding himself a seat on a rock.

But Oki did the opposite of sitting. At the mention of a giant, he let out the loudest “EEK” of his life, then turned tail and ran down the path, back from where they had come.

“Captain!” Uncle Griffinskitch shouted. “Stop him!”

But Jinx was already on her way. With one mighty leap, she landed on top of the frightened mouse and threw him to the ground.

“Shut it!” she cried, clamping a hand over Oki’s mouth. “Do you want the whole castle to know we’re here?”

Oki quieted down. Jinx pulled the mouse to his feet and brought him back to the group.

“They’re jus’ bones, don’t ya know,” Pugglemud told Oki. “This feller here has been dead a long time by the looks o’ it.”

“He certainly didn’t perish from natural circumstances,” Professor Bumblebean remarked, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. “He must have been compromised in some dreadful conflict.”

“Humph,” Uncle Griffinskitch muttered, and Kendra knew it was the type of humph that meant he was eager to move on. “Let’s go,” he ordered.

Oki looked so terrified that he could barely move his legs. Kendra took his little paw, hoping to calm him, but she nearly had to drag him past the skeleton and up the path.

They had gone only a short distance farther when the castle of Krodos came into view. Even after witnessing the skeleton, the castle was bigger than Kendra could have ever imagined, a colossal collection of towers and turrets that rose ominously out of the craggy cliffs to block out the sun.

“I do say,” Professor Bumblebean murmured. “The pictures in
The Illustrated History of Krodos
simply don’t do the real thing justice. This castle is . . . is . . .”

“I don’t believe it,” Jinx said with astonishment. “Are you actually at a loss for words,
Blabberbean?
I’ve been waiting for this day for weeks.”

As they drew closer, they were able to get a better view of the castle. There was no questioning that the fortress had once been the site of some grisly battle, for the stones were battered and streaked with thick black soot. Some of the higher walls were punctured with holes.

“This castle is a mess,” Kendra remarked.

“She looks like a pretty face that’s been punched in the nose, that’s a what,” Pugglemud added.

“How are we supposed to get inside?” Kendra asked.

They could see an immense door set in the side of the castle, but it was as tall as a tree. There was no way they could even begin to think of opening it, even if it weren’t locked (which they were sure it was). Jinx thought they should be able to squeeze underneath the door, but it was the type of gate that was pulled from the top, so there was not a sliver of space available.

“Can ya open it with yer magic?” Pugglemud asked Uncle Griffinskitch.

“Not in a way that won’t wake every giant in Krodos,” the old Een replied.

“Now what?” Kendra asked.

Then suddenly Jinx gave a whoop. “Look here!” she called. “I’ve found a way in.”

HAVE YOU EVER LOOKED all over for something, only to finally find it sitting right in front of your face, in the most obvious place? Well, that’s exactly what happened with our heroes at the gates of Krodos. They had been looking for a giant door, when in fact the whole time there was a normal-sized door right in front of them. They had simply overlooked it, for it was made from the same stone as the rest of the castle wall and had no visible markings. In fact, it didn’t even have any handles.

“How strange,” Jinx said. “Why would giants have such a small door?”

“I reckon they got theirselves Goojun slaves and such,” Pugglemud said. “Those poor fellers would need a way in and out too, don’t ya know.”

“Humph,” Uncle Griffinskitch grunted. “Their misfortune, but some luck for us.”

“Let’s get inside,” Pugglemud said. “On the other side of this here door is all that wonderful gold . . . tee hee!”

Captain Jinx pushed on the door, but it would not budge.

“Now what?” Oki asked.

“Perhaps I can find a password that will open the door,” Professor Bumblebean mused, opening up his pack of books.

“Never mind those books,
Bumbleweenie,
” Jinx said, drawing her sword. “I’ll see if I can pry it open.” She slid her weapon into the thin crack of the door and pried it with all her might.

“Ouch!” the door suddenly cried, so surprising Jinx that she leapt backwards.

“That voice came from the door!” Professor Bumblebean cried in astonishment.

“Of course it did!” the door exclaimed, and now they could see a pair of eyes and a large mouth magically appearing in the rock face. “You’d scream too if someone stuck you with a sharp sword!”

“Well, if I had known you could feel it, I wouldn’t have done it,” Jinx grumbled, acting somewhat angry that the door had scared her so.

“Oh, great,” Oki murmured. “I’m getting rather tired of things talking that normally should not.”

“Hey? What’s that?” the door asked.

“Nothing,” Uncle Griffinskitch said, stepping before the door. “We mean to pass.”

“Well, you won’t be doing that unless you can solve my riddle,” the door said.

“We had no idea you were a riddle door,” Jinx grumbled. “You could be a lot less difficult, you know.”

“And you could be a lot less dangerous with that sword,” the riddle door retorted.

“Enough!” Uncle Griffinskitch said impatiently. “Please, then—give us your riddle.”

“Very well,” the door said. “Now, let’s see . . .” It rolled its large black eyes, as if deep in thought. “Once there was . . . no, no . . . I used that one last time. Hmm, how about . . . oh, no, no . . . that will be far too easy!”

“Get on with it!” Jinx griped. “We haven’t all day.”

“Oh, all right then,” the door muttered. “I get so few visitors. You could stand to be a bit more polite, you know. Nonetheless, here is your riddle: There is an Unger who lives on the other side of the marsh, in the boot of a giant. Seven children she has. Exactly half of them are boys. How can this be?”

“That’s an impossible question!” Kendra cried. “Half of seven is three-and-a-half. And you can’t have half an Unger, can you, professor?”

“Of course not,” Professor Bumblebean replied firmly.

“Well, this is your folks’ type o’ business,” Pugglemud said. “I ain’t no good at these little word games. I got you fellers outta the marsh, so now you get me through this darn door.”

“We’ll solve it, not to worry,” Professor Bumblebean assured the Dwarf.

“Maybe one of the children is really small,” Kendra suggested. She couldn’t help thinking of Trooogul. He hadn’t been all that small, but she supposed baby Ungers might be.

“You can’t count an Unger as half just because it’s small,” Oki said.

“Give up yet?” the riddle door asked with a mischievous chuckle.

“Of course not,” Jinx said. “We just need a bit more time.”

“There is no answer!” Oki cried in frustration. “The door just doesn’t want us to get in.”

“Oh, I assure you, there is an answer,” the door declared.

Uncle Griffinskitch stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Humph,” he muttered. “Let’s review the facts. The Unger has seven children in total.”

“Don’t forget—she lives in a boot,” Oki added.

“That hardly matters,” Jinx told the mouse.

“Well, it must be a big boot after all,” Oki said.

“Does she cook onions in there?” Jinx teased the mouse.

“Silence!” Uncle Griffinskitch snorted. “Concentrate on the facts of the riddle.”

“Well,” Professor Bumblebean said, “We know there are seven Ungers. Half of them are boys.”

“Then what are the other half?” Kendra asked. “If half are boys, then the other half must be girls.”

“Of course, you only get one guess,” the riddle door said. “If you guess wrongly, then I’m afraid you’ve missed your chance.”

Professor Bumblebean sighed and scratched his head. “Well, we must be particularly careful then,” he said. He made himself a seat out of a pile of his books and sat down on it so that he could think extra hard.

It seemed to take him a long time. The door sighed with impatience from time to time, and Kendra tugged on her braids out of nervousness. Then, suddenly, the professor burst to his feet, his eyes afire with excitement. “I do say!” he exclaimed. “I’ve got the answer: they’re all boys! And that, Mr. Door, is your answer. Exactly half of the Ungers are boys because they are
all
boys!”

“Good job, Professor,” Uncle Griffinskitch said. “The riddle is solved.”

The riddle door sighed again. “Indeed, it is,” it said, the disappointment clear in its voice. “Therefore, you may pass.”

With a long, moaning creak, the door swung slowly inward, revealing a passageway that stretched away into darkness. Jinx peered into the tunnel and gulped so loudly that Kendra heard it. Then with a wave of her sword, Jinx led the way inside. As soon as the last of them passed through, the riddle door closed behind them with a loud “click” and an even louder chuckle, and the company suddenly found themselves in pitch darkness.

Jinx whirled around. “I didn’t like the sound of that chuckle,” she said, fumbling in her pack.

Kendra couldn’t see Jinx, but she could hear her rustling. “What are you looking for?” she asked the grasshopper.

“This,” Jinx said, producing a small torch, which she lit and held to the closed riddle door. “Hello!” she called. But there was no response.

“What seems to be the dilemma, Captain?” Professor Bumblebean asked worriedly.

“Look,” Jinx replied. “There’s no handle, no face, no door.”

“Where did it go?” Oki asked nervously.

“Nowhere,” Uncle Griffinskitch replied. “It’s a riddle door. You can only see it from the other side because it only goes one way.”

“What’s that mean?” Pugglemud asked.

“It means we’re not getting out of here the way we came in,” Jinx said grimly.