Gabriel Finley and the Raven’s Riddle (22 page)

“Ah! Then you require this.” The goose turned her head to the left, and Gabriel saw a stick lying on the sand. It was roughly the length of a broomstick, twisted by age like a piece of driftwood. It didn't look very special at all.

“But isn't the torc a
necklace
?” he asked.

“So it is,” said Ulyssa. “But long ago, the raven Muninn
used the torc's magic to enchant a staff of ash wood. The staff is the only thing that can destroy a valraven. When the torc is wrapped around the staff, it will come to you when summoned.”

Gabriel remembered his father discussing a staff with Corax on the moving postcard, but he felt disappointed. Such powers might be useful, but he still wished Ulyssa had offered him the torc. He was also very hungry.

With a longing glance at the tureen, Gabriel turned to Ulyssa. “Well, thanks very much,” he said, picking up the stick.

The moment he did so, hundreds and thousands of honks erupted across the beach. The geese who had been watching were giving their approval, gyrating their necks and clapping the sand with their webbed feet.

“Very good,” said the goose, and smiled again. “Gabriel, you have passed the second part of the task. You are steadfast, and this quality will serve you well indeed! Take the staff in hand and remember its valuable gifts!”

“So where exactly is the—”

Ulyssa interrupted again. “I promised Baldasarre that I would abide by his wishes. I cannot lead you to the torc.”

The goose turned to join her flock, which had already begun taking to the air. The graceful birds needed to flap their wings only once to get aloft.

Gabriel looked doubtfully at the stick. Then he noticed that the silver tureen was still on the ground.

“Oh, excuse me, you left your—”

“Have something to eat before you go.” With a wink, Ulyssa raised her great wings and set off.

The tureen happened to contain the very thing Gabriel most wished for: a bowl of steaming oatmeal studded with fresh blueberries, raspberries, and walnuts and drizzled with butter, maple syrup, and cream—perfect for a cold morning on the beach.

Full-bellied and quite pleased with themselves, the boy and his raven had no sooner eaten than the tureen vanished. Far above the gray sea, they noticed the Romany Geese flying in a perfect V formation, honking a farewell.

Gabriel looked at the staff and saw a slip of paper attached to it with a knot of string. He pulled it loose and was about to examine it when Paladin nudged him with his beak.

“We're not alone,” he said.

In the distance, a white bird was approaching. Suddenly, a gentleman with snowy hair and a long coat materialized on the beach. When the bird landed on his shoulder, the man drew a mouse from his coat pocket and tossed it into his companion's mouth, then waved at Gabriel.

“I am so proud of you both!” cried Septimus. “Such bravery! To best an eagle is one thing. To win the trust of Romany Geese quite another!”

“You saw it all?” said Gabriel. “You were following us?”

Septimus put his hand to his heart. “My boy, I promised Adam Finley I would watch over his son like my very own.”

“But I almost died!” said Gabriel.

Septimus dismissed this remark with a wave of his hand. “Trust me, we were there to make sure you didn't. Isn't that so, Crawfin?”

Crawfin cocked his head wryly at Septimus, but he said nothing.

“What does that paper in your hand say? Let's have a look.”

Horned Assassins

G
abriel unfolded the paper. It was covered with more of Baldasarre's scratchy lettering, like a bird's tracks in the sand. He read it aloud:

“Clearly this explains the torc's whereabouts,” said Septimus. “But where on earth do lions roar near bleating lambs?”

“Well, that can only be a zoo,” said Gabriel.

“And these horned assassins?” worried Septimus. “Who can they be?”

“The little zoo in Brooklyn doesn't have lions or tigers, but the Bronx Zoo does,” Gabriel replied. “I bet we'll find horned animals there, too.”

The dawn sky was a soft peach color, and the zoo felt strangely busy for such an hour. Dark forms paced back and forth along the fenced enclosures, emitting whoops, brays, barks, and wails. The cries of large cats merged into one grand chorus. Apes taunted and chuckled, as if they all knew that a riddle had summoned these visitors.

They visited the rhino paddock, elks, ibex, goats, and water buffalo, but Gabriel sensed each time that they were on the wrong track. He turned the staff in his hand, wondering if there was a clue carved in its surface. It was very smooth, and strangely warm to the touch, but it offered no answers. He consulted the piece of paper that had been attached to it.

“Look,” he said to the others. “The verse says horned
assassins.
Well, water buffalo and goats aren't really assassins.”

“Gabriel,” said Paladin, “the bird that chased me over the river had horns.”

“It was an owl, right?” said Gabriel

“Yes. A great horned owl, I think.”

Gabriel laughed. “That's it!
An owl!
And what's the best place to hide something from valravens? A place full of their worst enemies.
Owls!
”

The Birds of Prey building was black and windowless. Paladin dug his talons nervously into Gabriel's shoulder when they arrived at the entrance. “I can't go in there,” he said.

“I understand,” said Gabriel gently. “But you just outwitted an eagle.”

“Only because I had the druid stone. This is much worse!”

An idea popped into Gabriel's head. “Look,” he said, “we'll do exactly what we did with Tiberius. If you merge with me, the owls won't even know you're here.”

“Splendid!” said Crawfin. “I'll do the same with Septimus.”

Gabriel and Septimus advanced through the eagle and hawk section and came to a room marked
NOCTURNAL PREDATORS
. Inside, it was pitch black, the air thick with dust and feathers. Gabriel noticed large eyes glittering in the darkness and felt a violent quiver of panic in his chest.

Sorry, it's just me, trembling
, Paladin told him.

But it wasn't just Paladin; the staff vibrated so intensely it resembled the throb of a very low piano string. Something extremely important was in this room, something that excited the old gnarled piece of wood.

Hostile hoots and suspicious whispers filled Gabriel's ears. As he became accustomed to the darkness, he saw three very large owls sitting upon a tree limb. Their heads had pointed feathery tufts resembling horns, and they regarded
him with keen scrutiny and sharp beaks. They were horned assassins, to be sure.

Septimus gasped. “There it is!” He pointed to a bright object wrapped around the limb. It was a three-quarter necklace of dull silver, each end tipped with the head of a raven. Its cold blue glow was eerie and disturbing.

Gabriel swallowed, feeling only dread at the sight of it. He remembered the verse's description.
Forged … with malice and invention.
He didn't trust its merciless gleam. But he reminded himself that he only needed it to help his father, and cheered by this thought, he felt his courage restored. He turned to the owls; they regarded him with shrewd, inscrutable stares, flexing their daggerlike talons to remind him that this quest wasn't over yet.

Gabriel's knees began to shake. Without thinking, he clutched the staff more firmly, and to his surprise, the wood replied with a strong, reassuring warmth that spread from his fingers up the length of his arm.

The torc's effect on Septimus was different; his eyes took on a hungry, covetous stare. Its dark magic seemed to beckon to him. Eager to touch it, he clambered over the low wall that separated visitors from the owl habitat.

The reaction of the owls was swift. They clustered together on the tree limb, covering the necklace with their claws.

Septimus frowned. “Move over, big fellow!” he said harshly, batting an owl with one hand.

The owl's gaze settled on Septimus with cold scrutiny. Then it leaned down to him, as if to whisper tenderly.

“Ow!” cried Septimus, putting a hand to his ear. Blood dribbled between his fingers. “How
dare
you bite me?”

The owl shrugged; in a velvety-smooth voice it replied, “How dare
you
take what is not yours?”

“Not mine?” sputtered Septimus. “I happen to be a very close friend of Adam Finley's!”

“Then where is the staff?” the second owl said.

So
that's
why the Romany Geese gave you the staff
, said Paladin excitedly.

Septimus appeared to realize this, too, for a shrewd smile appeared on his face. He turned to Gabriel.

“My good lad,” he said. “Come join us! Don't be shy!”

Gabriel turned to the owls. “May I enter?” he said.

“Step forward, Son of Finley,” replied the first owl.

“
You
are welcome,” added the second, with a haughty glance at Septimus.

As Gabriel climbed over the wall, their scrutiny was so intense that he felt as if they were peering into his heart.

The third owl spoke: “Young fellow, we admired your father. It saddens us that he has been taken.” The owl eyed Septimus doubtfully. “Finley was unusual among men—honest, forthright, and kind.”

“And he knew a good riddle,” added the second owl. “Do
you
know any riddles?”

“Lots,” said Gabriel.

“Of course, we owls prefer
puns
,” added the third owl. “Do you know what a pun is?”

“Sure,” said Gabriel. “A joke that uses two meanings of a word.”

“Proceed!” said the first.

All the owls leaned forward, eager to hear.

Go ahead! Tell a pun!
said Paladin.

“Okay,” said Gabriel. “Why is there always something to eat in the desert?”

“Why?” asked the first owl, followed by a chorus of other owls, all repeating “Why?” This tempted Gabriel to smile, since owls are known for saying
who
, not
why.

“Because of the sandwiches there,” said Gabriel.

“Sandwiches?”

“The
sand which
is there …,” he explained.

There was a silence. Then one owl coughed, followed by another, followed by a third. The entire chamber seemed overcome with coughing. Gabriel began to wonder if his pun had made the owls ill.

No, that's owl laughter
, explained Paladin.