Riddle in Stone (The Riddle in Stone Series - Book One) (6 page)

As if drawn by magic, he stepped toward it.

Don’t be a fool. Get out of here. You’ve rested enough, and the troll is probably a half mile away by now. Go before he comes back!

He squinted at the gold lettering on the tome’s dark leather binding, unable to make the letters out.

Come on. Remember the troll? Go!

Setting his lantern on a ledge, Edmund reached inside the fissure. The book was heavier than he thought it would be. Grunting, he laid it gingerly on the ground. He blew the dirt off its worn cover. In the wavering orange lantern light, a single word appeared.

Kalvella?

What does that mean?

Who cares? Get out of here!

He opened the cover, taking care not to drip water on the thick pages. A faded ink drawing adorned the first page. A hulking humanoid shape was looming over what appeared to be three sickly children, their arms upraised, their faces contorted in silent screams of horror. In the background, adult-sized figures lay in a pool of blood, their organs eviscerated from their abdomens.

Edmund turned the page, the dry parchment crackling in his damp hands.

What is this?

He turned another page.

Maybe an epic poem?

But in what language?

He turned several more pages, attempting to decipher the spidery, black script.

It could be a derivation of the early languages. Some of these characters seem similar. Perhaps it’s written up to down, like Núvel.

Perhaps. Whatever this is, it’s old.

He searched for a date, but couldn’t find anything that he could read.

He turned another page, and then another.

He came to an ornate illustration of a dying man sprawled in a woman’s arms. One of his pale hands lay limp at his side, the other clutching his chest, blood seeping through his fingers. His eyes were rolled heavenward, his mouth open. The woman bent over him, weeping.

Beautiful composition. I wonder who did it.

He couldn’t find a signature.

A flash of crimson light illuminated the entrance to the cave. A minute later, thunder rumbled. Drops of water dropped from the ceiling with a steady—plunk, plunk, plunk.

Come on! Let’s go!

In a minute . . .

Edmund turned a few more pages.

I wonder what this is.

He turned a few more pages.

He looked up. Grey light was fading outside.

Edmund leapt to his feet.

He had gone through a quarter of the book.

How long—?

Get the hell out of here! Run!

He wrapped his arms around the tome.

Put it back!

No. It’s too valuable.

You can’t run with it, you idiot! Get out of here!

The book pressed against his breast, lantern swinging from his fingertips, Edmund waddled to the cavern entrance, and surveyed the ravaged valley.

Trees and branches lay piled along the engorged river like giant beaver dams, mud-colored water surging over them. Water dripped from every leaf. Small streams raced down the hillside. To the west, the sun was setting in an orange haze. Isolated stars twinkled in the maroon skies over the mountain peaks to the east.

How long was I—?

Somebody swore.

Through the trees, a large shape plodded along the undulating river, its head down, spear dragging by its side.

The troll cussed again.

“Damn imp,” he said. “Taunt me, will he? I’ll get the bugger. The worm! When the blasted sun sets, I’ll get him. I’ll get him and squeeze his eyes out!”

Edmund flattened himself against the interior wall of the passage.

Too late!

Go back. See if there’s a second entrance to this place!

No, you’ll get trapped. Get out of here and run. Run!

Do something!

Edmund let the book slide from his grip and propped it up against the wall.

Put it back! He’ll know—

Leave it. You’ve got to get away!

Blowing out the lantern, Edmund stalked along the ridge away from the advancing troll.

The troll started lumbering up the hill’s eastern slope. “Imp! Curse the bugger. I’ll get him.”

Down the northern slope, Edmund began his careful descent.

“Where was he heading? He was heading upriver. Him and that miserable dog. Where was he going? Where?”

Edmund crept further away. Through the trees to his right, the troll stormed up the hill.

“He didn’t have a horse,” the troll went on. “Would have smelled it. Just that damned dog!”

Carefully, Edmund inched his way further down the rain-soaked hill. His feet started to slide. He lost his balance. His arms flailed. As he grabbed an outstretched tree limb for support, the unlit lantern slipped from his fingers. It bounced down the hill, hitting stones and crashing into tree trunks with ringing clanks. When it finally came to rest at the bottom of the hill, all was quiet. Clinging to the tree branch, Edmund listened, terrified.

“Maybe to the old mines?” the troll grumbled, his tone unchanged. “The old human settlement? Maybe the tower. He was alone. Maybe he’s lost . . . ”

Half sliding, half running, Edmund raced down the hill to where the lantern lay. Affixing it to his backpack, he turned northward and stopped.

Through the gap between two hills, he could see a broad, waterlogged glen. On the other side, a lopsided mountain stood. On its summit, stabbing at the underbelly of the early evening sky like a deadly spear, stood the silhouette of a tower. Staring at it, Edmund muttered its name in awe. “Tol Helen.”

Behind him, something moved. Spinning around, he drew his sword, ready to fight.

Out from underneath a buckthorn bush wiggled Thorax, her mud-covered tail wagging behind her.

“Hey!” Edmund whispered, his hands outstretched.

Running to him, she leapt into his arms. He hugged her.

“You look a wreck. Are you okay, girl?”

She licked him.

Never mind this. Come on!

“Listen, we, we, we have to get out of here,” he said, setting her on the ground.

Thorax began heading north along the river.

“No,” Edmund whispered. “This way! Follow me. I know where the tower is. See it? There through the hills? We’re almost—”

A great shout shook the hillside. “Imp!”

Somewhere in the night, crossing the marshy valley behind Edmund and Thorax, the troll bellowed again. “Imp! I’m going to crush your miserable skull! I’m going to bash your brains into jelly! Do you hear me? Jelly!”

His boots and trousers dripping with mud, Edmund collapsed on top of a pile of grassy rubble that had once formed a parapet protecting the now-destroyed city. Thorax thrust her nose under his arm, urging him forward, but Edmund swatted her away.

“I, I can’t.” He panted. “I can’t.”

She grabbed his sleeve in her teeth and tugged.

“No.” He groaned. “No. Hon-honestly. I can’t . . . I can’t move anymore. I need . . . I need to rest.”

Maybe a mile away, the troll roared. “You can’t hide from me!”

He was getting closer.

Thorax pulled harder, her eyes flitting to the crumbling road switching back and forth up the mountainside to the tower directly above them.

Maybe I can get up there and drop rocks down on him—like what the Hillmen used to do to invaders.

You’re never going to make it up there in time. It’s at least another three or four miles to the top of the mountain. Besides, any rock that you can lift will just bounce off him.

There has to be another way . . .

“Listen . . . listen to me,” Edmund told Thorax, trying to catch his breath. “You need to save us, girl. You need to . . . to save us.”

Letting go of his sleeve, Thorax cocked her head.

Edmund lifted a hand and pointed vaguely at the remains of the settlement in front of them. “Some, somewhere, somewhere on the southwest face of this mountain . . . up, up from these ruins . . . somewhere . . . is a cave . . . a tunnel. It’s small. Just, just big enough for a young boy to crawl through. You need to find . . . ”

Thorax darted off into the darkness before he could finish.

You better hope Isa wasn’t lying about how he escaped the tower.

The troll splashed as he waded through the nearby swamp.

Edmund noted the gibbous moon shining silver in the blackness overhead.

It’s after midnight. Maybe he’ll—

What? Turn back at dawn? The troll will be here in ten minutes. It’ll be all over then.

Scared out of the reeds by the approaching troll, a flock of marsh wrens scattered into the night sky.

Maybe we can find someplace to hide.

Where? There is nothing but rubble left. It doesn’t matter. He’d sniff us out eventually.

Maybe try the road . . .

You can’t outrun a troll. Isa’s route is the only option, if it exists. If it doesn’t—

Thorax began barking.

“Imp!” the troll shouted. “I’m going to rip off your stinking arms and beat your damn dog with them!”

Edmund clambered over the fallen wall, his legs quivering with fatigue and fear.

Thorax ran up to him.

“Did you find it? Did you find it, girl?”

She grabbed his hand in her mouth and pulled.

“Where?”

Letting go of him, she shot off into the darkness.

Edmund stumbled after her, tripping on the wreckage of ancient buildings.

Thorax barked again, but Edmund couldn’t make his legs move any faster.

“Steal my things, will you?” the troll hollered. “I’ll show you what I do to thieves!”

Edmund lumbered up a flagstone street that wound its way through the ruins to the mountain’s southwest face. Behind him, the huge troll climbed over the crumpled parapet upon which Edmund had just rested.

Thorax reappeared.

“Thorax,” Edmund said. “We don’t have much time. If we don’t make it . . . run. Just run, okay? Head . . . head, head back to Rood. Head home. All right?”

Shooting off the road, she crawled under a thicket of overgrown scrub bushes. Edmund attempted to follow, but was repelled by the mass of branches. He tried again, but couldn’t get more than a few feet into the entanglement.

Use your sword. Cut them down!

I don’t have the strength to—

Just do it! You don’t have time. He’s coming this way!

Edmund drew his short sword out of its mud-caked scabbard.

On the desolate street below, the troll pounded toward them.

It’s going to take an hour to cut all of this—

Hurry! He’s coming! Hack them down, get to the tunnel.

Bringing the blade back, Edmund swung feebly at the first bush. Half of it teetered and then fell at his feet. He examined the inch thick branch that his sword sliced through like water.

Incredible!

The troll stormed up the road. “You can’t hide from me, imp!”

Hacking at the bushes with renewed vigor, a previously unfelt power welled up in Edmund’s sword arm. He swung again and again, the dense foliage falling before him like grain ready to be harvested. Cleaving a path through the growth, he came to Thorax standing by the side of the mountain next to a moss-covered boulder.

“Where is it?” Edmund asked. “The tunnel. Where is it, girl?”

She put her paw on the boulder.

“I don’t understand. Where . . . ?”

Behind the massive rock was a narrow opening, barely big enough for a thin man to crawl into.

It’s blocked!

Somebody laughed.

Edmund turned.

Standing among the collapsed buildings at the bottom of the slope stood the troll, sneering up at him.

“Nowhere to run,” he said as he began climbing.

Thorax clawed Edmund’s short sword.

“Fight? He’ll embed that spear in me before I—”

Thorax barked as she dug frantically at the back of the boulder.

She means use the sword to pry it away! Hurry!

Slipping the sword’s smoke-colored blade between the boulder and the mountain, Edmund pulled. “This metal better be as strong as my father used to say!”

The boulder rocked forward and then rolled back into place.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you and your damn dog?” the troll asked, striding up the slope.

Edmund put his foot against the face of the mountain and heaved the hilt again. The opening of a tunnel appeared. He threw his considerable weight backward and pushed with his foot. The boulder teetered and then toppled forward, gaining speed as it crashed down the mountainside.

Leaping effortlessly over the boulder, the troll jeered.

“Nice try.” He laughed again. “Do you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to take your tiny head and—”

Edmund pointed at the hole. “Quick Thorax, go!”

She dashed into the darkness.

Seeing the tunnel, the troll shouted, “No!” He sprinted toward them.

Dropping to his knees, Edmund dove forward, but was immediately thrown back. He couldn’t fit through the opening.

Your backpack!

The rocky ground shook under the weight of the charging troll. “No!”

Edmund slipped off one shoulder strap.

Eighty feet away, the troll raised his spear.

Slipping the second strap off, Edmund cowered behind his pack, using it as a makeshift shield.

The troll threw.

The spear shattered against the mountainside inches from Edmund’s left shoulder, splinters of wood and chips of stone spewing everywhere.

The troll roared. “No!”

Pushing his backpack in front of him, Edmund scrambled into the dark passage, his head scraping against the unseen ceiling.

The troll reached his long arm into the tunnel. It swatted just behind Edmund’s scurrying feet. “You miserable thief. You like holes? You like holes?” He hollered into small opening. “Enjoy!”

The troll disappeared from the entrance. But he didn’t go far.

“Enjoy your grave, imp!” he shouted.

There was a sound of smashing stone as the tunnel suddenly went completely black.