On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness (20 page)

BOOK: On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness
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A loud banging on the back door of Oskar's store made everyone jump.

Oskar shrugged at Podo, who pressed a finger to his lips. Podo gripped Gnorm's curved sword and eased over to the door.

The banging came again, louder this time.

Podo took a deep breath, hefted the sword, and wrenched open the door.

38

An Unpleasant Plan

W
hat do you mean, bringing this trouble down on us?”

“You Igibys will be the ruin of us!”

“What do you suppose will happen to this town now you've gone and killed a passel of Fangs?”

A crowd of Glipfolk gathered at Oskar's back door, and no one looked happy. Podo hid the sword behind his back and held a calming hand out to them, but the people were pushing forward and getting louder by the second.

“Easy now, Alep. We'll figure somethin'—”

“Jouncey as a two-ton bog pie!” Charney Baimington declared, and several Glipfolk agreed.

“Just what do you plan to do with sixteen dead Fangs, Mister Igiby? Answer me that!” shouted a plump woman waving a broom.

“Ferinia, calm down. That's just what we're doing is coming up with a plan.”

“A plan! I've got a plan! We should run the Igibys into the Dark Sea of Darkness, that's a plan!” Mayor Blaggus shouted from the back.

It was all Podo could take. “E
NOUGH
!” he roared, and the townsfolk went as still and silent as statues. “The only thing going into the Dark Sea of Darkness tonight is bird droppings. Now listen to me, folks. We didn't ask for this to happen, but it's happened. It is what it is, and we'll figure out something. Now if you'd be so kind as to let me and Oskar here have a few minutes to think, we'll get this sorted out and be with you directly.” Under Podo's glare, the crowd grumbled and muttered but finally dispersed. He closed the door and sighed. “Now, to business.”

Janner and Tink sank to the floor and listened while Podo and Oskar hunched over the desk and talked in earnest.

“The town will be set to the flame,” Podo said gravely.

Oskar adjusted his spectacles and thought for a moment before nodding. “True. There's little to be done about dear Glipwood, I fear. It's only a matter of time before the Fangs at Fort Lamendron realize something's amiss.”

“Aye, and Gnorm said he was under orders from General Khrak himself. He'll be expecting Gnorm and the carriage in a few hours. When it doesn't show, they'll send forces here.”

“I've heard the Fangs can run like lightning when they've a mind to—faster than a horse,” Oskar said, pushing a wisp of hair behind one ear. “If that's true, we don't even have until morning before more Fangs arrive. Fort Lamendron has hundreds, maybe even thousands of the beasts. They'll come here angry. They need little reason to terrorize us.” Oskar sighed. “ This is no little thing.”

“Blast it all,” Podo said, driving his fist into the table. “There's not much the Glipfolk can do. Either they fight or they run. Even if they had weapons, the townsfolk wouldn't have a flabbit's chance against a regiment of Fangs. They'll have to run. The roads to Torrboro should be clear enough, yet. They can hide there, and by morning the Fangs will find Glipwood as empty as a ghost town. Maybe then there's a chance it won't burn. And after we're gone for a while and the dust settles, the townsfolk might be able to come back.”

“Some will stay, you know.”

“Aye,” Podo said after a long moment. “Some will refuse to leave.” He punched the table again. “Me bones want to stay and fight those cursed lizards!” He glanced at the children and Nia. “But we have no choice. We're running, and running far.”

“The Ice Prairies?” Oskar looked grave.

“Aye. It's the only place the Jewels will be safe anymore.”

Janner and Tink looked at one another, their eyes wide. They both had questions but were afraid to incur Podo's wrath again, so they sat in stunned silence. There really were jewels, and Podo and Nia had them.

“There's no time to dally,” Podo said. “I have to get to the cottage and gather what I can for the journey. We won't be coming back for a long time.” Podo breathed a weary sigh and added, “If at all.”

Janner and Tink looked at one another again with wide eyes.
We're going to the Ice Prairies?
1

“We'll need supplies, old friend,” Podo looked at Oskar. “Real weapons, not these flimsy things.” Podo looked with distaste at Gnorm's blade.

“Anklejelly Manor, of course,” Oskar said with a nod.

Janner felt his cheeks redden.

“You'll find more than enough of what you need,” Oskar said.

“Good. I'll take the boys with me to the cottage to gather what we need. Can you keep Nia and Leeli safe until we get back?”

Oskar winked and bustled over to a crook of the study, where he stooped and pulled up a corner of the rug. Beneath was a trapdoor. “There are lanterns, blankets, and enough dried food to last a good while down there, just in case. In the words of Aman Putan, ‘We'll hide them there until you return, at which point you'll head out for safer lodging.' I'll have the map and key to the weapons chamber when you get back.”

“Boys, come with me,” Podo ordered, and they leapt to their feet.

While Nia and Leeli stepped down into Oskar's secret basement, Janner and Tink followed their grandfather outside, where the small mob of Glipfolk waited impatiently.

Podo cleared his voice and the chatter ceased. “We've considered our options, friends, and none are easy.” Podo looked hard at the Glipfolk—people he'd worked with for years, some he'd known since he was a boy. He took a deep breath, reluctant to say what he had to say. “We'll have to run.”

No one spoke.

“You can either stay here and burn with the town, or you can flee. A regiment of Fangs from Fort Lamendron will head this way as soon as they get a whiff of what happened here tonight. They'll be here before sunrise, we figure. When they get here, they'll probably tear down the place out of spite, and destroy you with it. So if you want to avoid a mean death, you should get what you need and head north, to Dugtown or Torrboro. By morning, I fear Glipwood will not exist.”

The wind moaned in the treetops. Podo waited for a challenge to his verdict, but none came. The people saw the truth of what Podo had said. Wordlessly, they dispersed, casting rueful glances at Podo as well as at the boys.

Janner felt the scorn of people who had only ever smiled at him, and he wanted nothing more than to make things right. But how? What was done was done, and there was no undoing it.

Shaggy the tavern owner plopped into a rocking chair on his nearby front stoop and lit a pipe. It was clear that he meant to stay. A scraggly old man approached, big tears running down his face and into his scruffy white beard.

“Buzzard Willie,” Podo nodded in greeting.

“Oy, old mate. I never told you proper I'm sorry I stole Merna Bidgeholler from ye back when we was lads. Been meanin' to tell ye that fer years, you rascal.” He sniffed.

Podo chuckled uncomfortably and clasped his friend's shoulder, embarrassed about the many, many garden thwaps he'd dumped in Buzzard's yard.

“Merna? I tell ya, Willie, I'd plumb forgot about that. Mostly, anyway,” he added under his breath. “Water over the falls, that's all it is. Water over the falls. Now you get on to Dugtown and stay with yer grandkids, eh? I'll see you one of these days, ol' mate.”

Buzzard Willie nodded and drew his sleeve across his weepy face. “Oh, and sorry about yer barn burnin' down. Looked like them Fangs really tore up things. I went out there earlier to give ye a little somethin' from me garden, courtesy of meself. Left it on yer porch. A gift, for Merna's sake.”

“Aw, now Buzz,” Podo said. But his old friend was already moving across the street toward his house to gather up his wife and belongings.

Podo looked at his grandsons. “Well, lads,” he said, changing the subject, “that went better than I expected. It looks like they're all leavin'. All but Shaggy and the Shoosters, that is.” He said this with a hint of pride for his friends who were sitting on the stoop of The Only Inn, raising a toast to their town and waving good-bye to neighbors and friends. Glipfolk who were leaving had friends and family elsewhere and hurried to make it safely to their refuge without being caught.
2
But for some, like Shaggy and the Shoosters, all they had and all they ever wanted was right there in Glipwood. They had nowhere to go and aimed to die fighting for their home.

“Come on, boys,” Podo said, and they followed him to the jail where Fang corpses were scattered about, shriveled and dried as if they'd been decaying for years, not minutes. All that was left were crackled snakeskins, dusty bones, and armor.

Podo pulled a sword from one of them and the clawed hand crumbled to a pile of dust that drifted away on the wind.

“Go on and grab two more swords,” Podo said, as he collected a few daggers, including the one that Janner had buried in Gnorm's side. Podo blew the dust from the weapons, walked to the tavern, and offered them somberly to Shaggy and the Shoosters. Janner and Tink heard a few murmured words between them, before their grandfather embraced his old friends, each in turn.

Then in silence Podo and the boys walked briskly out of the township of Glipwood, where for a thousand years people had come for the Dragon Day Festival and been glad. Janner could hardly believe that in a matter of hours it would be rubble.

“That's it, young Leeli,” Oskar said as he helped a despondent Leeli Igiby down the wooden steps into the dank basement. “Down you go.”

He sat her down on the dirt floor next to Nia and lit a lantern. It illuminated a tiny room with a few crates against the far wall. Oskar busied himself with arranging the crates and checking the supplies, and when he thought all was right, he turned his attention to the mother and daughter. He peered down at them through his spectacles.

“I know it's not the most comfortable accommodation, dear. In the words of Burley the Pow, ‘This place is indibnible. And dank.' But you shouldn't be in here for long, depending on how much time Podo takes fetching the supplies. It's just best if we keep you hidden, in case something should go wrong.”

Oskar cast a longing glance up at the warm light of his study. “I'm afraid there'll be no time to save my books. All my maps and tomes and volumes and volumes of lore, lost forever. And this was the last of it, dears. All the books left in all of Skree were kept safe here. But no longer. No longer.” He blinked and came to himself again.

“Ah, but the jewels. What use are books if the Jewels of Anniera are lost to us?” He winked at Leeli. “I'll be packing what little I can afford to bring. And where is that little ridgerunner? I could use his help,” he said to himself.

“I'll close this until it's time to go. In the words of Adeline the Poetess, ‘Get some rest. It's for the best.'”

Nia squeezed his hand. “Thank you, Oskar. You're a good friend.”

Oskar closed the hatch, and they were in darkness but for the single lantern atop a crate. Leeli cuddled up close to her mother, who could feel her daughter shivering.

The barn behind the Igiby cottage had burned down to smoke and ashes, but the cottage still stood. Janner tried to grasp that he was seeing his home for the last time, and as much as it saddened him, he felt an undeniable thrill. He had often dreamed of seeing what lay beyond the great trees of Glipwood, but he always thought he would have to wait until he was much older to do it. Here he was, twelve years old and on his way to the Ice Prairies, a place he only knew by its name on an old map.

“You boys hurry on in and set to packin',” Podo said. “Not much. Just get a few tunics and britches each and tie 'em up in a bedroll. Do the same for yer sister. I'm off to round up Danny from the north field where the poor old beast's been hitched to the wagon since the Fangs showed up. I just hope he's still got the fire to tow us far enough tonight. I'll be along in a minute to fetch what else we need.” Podo strode off into the darkness to the pasture.

“I can't believe we're really leaving,” Tink said as he and Janner approached the cottage under a bright moon. “Where are the Ice Prairies, anyway?”

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