On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness (6 page)

11

A Crow for the Carriage

T
he Igiby children stood frozen. Four more Fangs surrounded them with swords drawn. “Try to run if you like,” Slarb said with a smile that exposed his long, sharp teeth. “It's a long way down to the sssea. I'm sure those ghasstly dragons would love a few plump vittles after their silly show, don't you think?” Two of the Fangs seized Tink and Leeli.

In a deep, gravelly voice, one of them said, “What d'you want we should do wif 'em, Slarb? Tosss 'em over or put 'em in the pen?”

Slarb considered the first option for a moment. His purplish forked tongue flicked over his fangs as his cold eyes went from the children to the cliffs a few feet away.

Janner looked over Slarb's shoulder at the dissipating crowd, praying that Podo and his mother would spot them, wherever they were. But not one of the people in the crowd was looking their way, and as far as he could tell, none of them was Podo or Nia. Janner was furious that he had allowed himself to be distracted from finding them. They probably would have been better hidden in the crowd anyway.

“Commander Gnorm told me to bring 'em in, but this cliff is
ssso
close and these humans are so very
sssmelly,
eh, Brak?” His tongue flitted a few inches from Janner's face.

There was no way out. One Fang would be hard to escape from. Five would be impossible. It was best to stay calm and hope Slarb followed orders. Being thrown in jail and sent to Dang in the Black Carriage was horrifying, but it was better than being tossed into the sea right there and then. Janner noticed that Nugget was long gone.

So much for the loyal dog,
he thought, just as Slarb's fist slammed into the side of his head, knocking him to the ground. It was the first time he'd ever been hit so hard. He'd had his share of fights with Tink, but they were nothing to the explosion of pain he felt while he moaned and struggled to his feet.

Slarb snorted. “Let that be a lesson, boy. Touch me again and I'll eat you alive.”

He stepped over to Leeli, grabbed a fistful of her wavy blond hair and jerked her head back. “And the same goes for you, ssstenchy little girl,” he said, and he pushed her to the ground beside Janner.

Tink wrenched free from the Fang who was holding him and swung a fist at Slarb, but Slarb brushed the punch aside and rammed his knee into Tink's stomach. Tink doubled over and collapsed, gasping for air. Slarb bent over him and drew his knife. With one greenish-scaled hand, he held Tink's head flat against the ground while he ran the point of the blade softly down Tink's cheek. “And you, you ssscrawny little thing,” he growled. “Remember Slarb with
thisss.
” He flipped the dagger in the air, caught it by the blade, and cracked Tink in the head with the pommel. Janner and Leeli cringed at the sound it made as Tink cried out, then clenched his teeth and fought back the tears as a little patch of blood emerged from his hairline. At the sight of the blood, the Fangs became agitated, hissing and snorting like dinner had just been served.

“Bring them with me,” Slarb said, turning away.

The brothers were yanked to their feet and shoved forward. Leeli tried to stand, but her poor twisted leg buckled beneath her, and she crumpled to the ground. Janner bent to help her up, but the Fang named Brak stepped between them with a growl.

“I'd let the little ssstinker alone if I was you,” he said.

“She can't walk without help!” Janner said hotly, and Brak bared his fangs at him.

“Let the boy help his little crippled sister, you fool. Unless
you
want to carry the sssmelly thing all the way back to the jail,” Slarb hissed.

Brak's nose twitched and his scaly lips curled with disgust while he regarded Leeli. He relented, and Janner helped her up again.

The side of Janner's face was pounding from the blow, and above Tink's ear an egg-sized knot was growing. Leeli cried as she limped along, looking around for Nugget.

By now most of the tourists had made their way to either The Only Inn for dinner or to their camp at the opposite edge of town to cook something they'd bought at the market that day. A few people were milling around the lamp-lit streets, but when they saw the procession of five armored Fangs carrying torches and prodding the three frightened children along, they averted their eyes and shuffled out of the way.

Commander Gnorm was a fat, scaly thing with sagging eyes and yellow crooked fangs. He lazed on the front porch of the jail almost all the time, sharpening a dagger and eating whatever happened to be on hand.

Janner's mind was racing. They had gotten themselves into a hayload of a mess. Commander Gnorm's decisions were as swift as they were ruthless, and for all he knew they would find themselves in the Black Carriage on their way to Fort Lamendron before the sun rose.
¹
They were shoved up the few steps onto the jailhouse stoop where Commander Gnorm was leaning back in a chair, sharpening his dagger in the shadows.

“Well, get 'em inside,” he said without looking up.

They were marched into a lamp-lit room and past a desk littered with fish bones. On the wall facing the desk, a crude circular target had been painted and a score of daggers were jutting out of the wall. Whoever had thrown them was disturbingly accurate. Slarb pushed the children into another room that was as dark as a grave. The light of Slarb's torch revealed three barred cells, the floors strewn with hay and filth. He lifted a ring of keys from the wall, opened the barred door, and shoved the children into a cell. With a look of great satisfaction he locked the door, replaced the keys, and left.

Tink and Leeli curled up next to Janner on the floor as if it were cold, though it was quite stuffy.

“Let me see, Tink,” Janner said, taking his brother's head in his hands. He parted Tink's hair and squinted in the darkness at the lump, though he had no idea what he was looking for. “It doesn't seem too bad,” he said, trying to sound much older than he was.

“How's that face of yours?” Tink said.

“It'll be fine,” Janner said, wincing as he touched the bruise forming on his cheek.

The brothers turned to Leeli.

“You going to be okay?” Janner asked.

“This was all my fault,” she said, wiping her nose with her forearm. “I'm so sorry I got us into this mess.”

“What happened back there, anyway?” Janner asked.

“While you were watching the handyball game, I was throwing a stick to Nugget near the lawn, behind the crowd. A thwap plopped out of a tree, right in front of him, and Nugget ran after it. I followed them and before I knew it I was all the way back here on Main Street. I saw Nugget chase the thwap into the alley, and when he turned the corner, he tripped that Fang.”

“Slarb?” Tink asked.

“Yes. I think so. And that thing—Slarb—picked up Nugget and was about to bite him, so, I kicked it in the shin.” Leeli said this as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You
kicked
a Fang?” both boys repeated.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?”

“I don't know, but that's about the dumbest thing I've ever heard,” Janner said.

“And the bravest,” Tink said.

Leeli sat with her head down, her long hair almost touching the dirty floor.

“And the bravest,” Janner agreed after a moment.

Leeli sniffed and wiped her nose.

“Hush,” Tink said with a hand on her back. “It wasn't your fault, anyway. It was that dog of yours,” he said, trying to be funny. Tink regretted it as soon as it came out of his mouth. Leeli sobbed.

“It's not like him to run away like that,” she said, and buried her face in Tink's chest. “What if one of those awful things kicked him over the cliff?”

“Listen,” Janner said. “Be
glad
that Nugget isn't in here with us. We're the ones who are in trouble. Either we're about to have the snot beat out of us, or we're going to be shipped away to Dang. I'd rather not see Dang or the Castle Throg or Gnag the Nameless this week, so let's hope for torture.”

When the door to their cell opened, in wobbled Commander Gnorm with Slarb at his side.

Janner, Tink, and Leeli stood and stiffened as Gnorm regarded them with his greenish scaly arms folded and resting on his large gut like they were resting on a table. He looked them over with black, droopy eyes.

“Yesss, Commander,” Slarb said, “These are the ones.”

“And these children somehow left you unconscious in an alley.” Gnorm turned to Slarb with a sneer. “They must be valiant warriors indeed to best
two
armed Fangs of Dang,” he said, his voice deep and wet-sounding.

Like bubbling mud,
Janner thought.

“Well, sir—”

“It would ssseem that you are curiously incompetent if it takes five of you to bring in three children. I sssit on my green rump all day long, growing fatter with every rat I gobble, and I believe I could whip this rabble with my eyes closed. You do have fangs, don't you, Slarb, you tadpole? And you say these stones came from nowhere, do you? A little rock hits your ssskull and you sleep like babies in the dirt? Did some old mammy come tuck you in?”

Slarb tried again and again to interject, but Gnorm gained momentum as he spoke until Slarb stood silent, his pale green cheeks puffing. Gnorm had his hand on the hilt of his dagger, itching for an excuse to draw it and bury it in Slarb's soft belly.

Slarb gave him no opportunity, however.

“I beg pardon, Commander. My incompetence is inexcusssable,” Slarb said with his head bowed low. Gnorm grunted, satisfied with groveling. He turned to go with a snort, unaware that Slarb bared his fangs at his back. “What about the children, sssir?”

The fat Fang stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder at the Igiby children on the floor of the cell. He considered them for a moment with his droopy black eyes. “What would you like to do with them?”

Slarb grinned maliciously. “Commander, if it would please you, I'd like to torture them. The whips, perhaps?”

Janner's heart pounded. Tink squeezed Leeli tighter.

“Would you, now?” Gnorm said coldly. “In that case, don't touch them. If you tried to whip them, they'd probably bessst you anyway. We'll have them sent to Dang tonight.” He laughed as he turned away. “Send a crow for the Carriage.”

12

Not the Same as Ships and Sharks

T
he door closed with a thud, and Janner felt his heart drop like a stone over the cliffs and into the sea. Suddenly a growl filled the air. Slarb arched his back and opened his jaws impossibly wide, baring his fangs and clenching his fists. Janner could see the pinkish muscles in Slarb's mouth, the black, moist tongue wriggling about like a worm, and worst of all, those yellowed, dripping fangs. He shuddered at the thought of those poisonous teeth biting into his skin, of those clawed hands tearing into his flesh. It was easy to see why it was said that no Fang had ever been killed by a human. Black Carriage or not, any fate seemed better to Janner than dying at the hands of Slarb.

The Fang strode over to the ring of keys, panting, a bit of poisonous drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. He ripped the ring from the wall, strode to the cell door and jammed a key into the lock, infuriated when the first key didn't work. Tink and Janner slid Leeli into the back corner of the cell, then stood in front of her, wondering what they could possibly do other than grit their teeth and fight with all that was in them when this maddened Fang burst through the cell door.

But Slarb never opened the cell. The door behind him opened, and the burly Fang called Brak lumbered in.

“Hullo, Slarby.”

Slarb straightened quickly and turned around, hiding the ring of keys behind his back. “Brak,” he said, “I told you not to call me that.”

“So we get to deport 'em, eh?” Brak said with a hint of glee. “I love watchin' 'em wriggle when we put 'em in the Carriage, don't you, SSSlarby?”

Slarb was straining to speak in a level voice. “Yesss. Deporting them all.” He wiped the poisonous drool from his mouth with his forearm and casually hung the keys back on the wall. “It's probably worssse for them in the long run anyway,” he said with a wicked grin, turning his black eyes on the children. “
Much
worse in the long run.”

The two Fangs left the room. Janner and Tink collapsed to the floor beside Leeli.

“We have to figure a way out of this,” Janner said, trying again to sound older than he was. “If there's anything Podo taught me, it's that there's always a way out.”

“But that's grandpa, a one-legged man playing Ships and Sharks
¹
with little kids,” Tink said. “
This
isn't a game.”

“I know it's no game, Tink. But it won't do any good to argue with someone bigger than you.” Janner punched Tink's shoulder playfully.

Deep down Janner didn't have the slightest idea how they would get out of this mess—and he feared that they wouldn't. But as the oldest, he felt the need to keep up their spirits. From what he'd heard, much bigger and braver people had been forced into the Black Carriage, so why shouldn't they? Those bigger and braver people were never seen again, so why should they? All he knew was that it was better to be in a Fang jail cell with a little bit of hope than without it.

Leeli fell asleep with her head on Tink's lap, and before long Tink drifted off too. Janner paced the cell for hours, wondering what Podo and Nia were doing. By now they had to know the children were missing, and they likely knew from the townspeople that the children were in the jail. He pulled himself up by the bars in the high window, but it faced the shadowy rear of the jail. There was nothing to see. The cell door was locked fast and the keys were unreachable. There was nothing to do but wait. Tink was right; this wasn't Ships and Sharks, and maybe there wouldn't be a way out.

Janner wished he could sleep like Tink and Leeli, but his anxious thoughts kept him from it. He tried to think about anything but the dreaded Black Carriage that was making its way over dark hill and starlit vale to Glipwood. He thought about how fine his breakfast had been that very morning, and how warm the hearth was in the Igiby cottage, nestled beneath the boughs of Glipwood trees. His heart was sad for Podo, his dear scruffy grandfather, who had lost his wife in the Great War. He was sad for his mother, whom the Great War had widowed. Now they would again be bereaved, all because he had failed to keep a close eye on Leeli.

Janner sighed and leaned against the wall with his head hung low, thinking of his father. He wished more than ever that he was sailing on a boat in the open sea, and he thought to take his father's drawing out again before he realized that there would be no way to see it in the dark. Surely his father would know how to escape from this dreary cell and their terrible ride in the Black Carriage. Or, if he were still alive, surely he would come to their rescue. But young Janner Igiby had no father and very little hope, there with his brother and sister in that bare, awful cell.

Leeli lifted her head and looked up at the window.

“Did you hear that?” she said.

Tink woke up with a start and said, “Pass the gravy.”

“I think it's Nugget,” she said. “Nugget! Is that you, boy?”

Three pairs of eyes turned up to the window. The children listened. They heard a whine and a worried sound somewhere between a bark and a howl. Janner felt happy, though he didn't know why. There wasn't much a dog could do for them in their predicament, but knowing that Nugget had come back made hoping easier. Then they heard Fang voices arguing in the outer room of the jail. One of the voices—maybe Slarb—was cut short by a thud and a crash.

Commander Gnorm growled something about obeying orders, then footsteps clunked toward the door.

The door creaked open to reveal Gnorm's chubby silhouette. Janner could see Slarb sprawled on the floor behind him. For the second time that day, because of the Igiby children, Slarb's head had found itself in the path of a blunt object. Gnorm took the keys off the wall and unlocked the cell door.

“You're most fortunate, children,” he gurgled. “Someone thinks you're worth a few shinies.”

He wiggled his pudgy fingers at them. They were studded with four golden and bejeweled rings that hadn't been there before. Glittering bracelets covered his forearm and a golden medallion on a silver chain hung around his neck. The jewelry looked out of place on such an ugly creature. Gnorm swung open the door and waved out the children.

“So…we can go?” Janner asked timidly.

“Yes. Out of my sight,” he said impatiently. Gnorm admired his new jewelry while the children eased by. But as Janner passed him, the Fang snatched him by the face and jerked him close. The Fang's baggy face filled Janner's vision. He saw his terrified reflection in the black bottomless pools of the Fang's hateful eyes, felt his claws digging into his cheeks.

“Touch one of my soldiers again and a
thousand
chests of gold won't ssssave you or your family,” Gnorm said in a low, menacing voice. He thrust Janner away so violently that he fell to the floor. Tink helped him up, not daring to look at the Fang or to breathe a word. The boys helped Leeli past the soldiers, past Slarb, who by now had picked himself up off the floor and was seething with anger as he watched the children leave unscathed.

In the faint lamplight in the middle of the street stood their mother, Nia, whose face was as pale as the moon.