Keeper of the Realms: Crow's Revenge (Book 1) (8 page)

A shrill keening howl that echoed across the distance made him pause in his tracks. In all his thirteen years of tending the rock fields he’d never heard anything like it. The cry sounded again, sending shivers down his spine. Climbing a nearby finger of rock, he stood and shielded his eyes from the setting sun’s glare. Gazing around, he tried to locate the source of the sound.

His thick, gnarled skin rippled nervously as he heard the howling yet again, and this time it was joined by other similar voices that hissed, chittered and chattered. The shrieking drew nearer and the sounds echoed back and forth, bouncing from the towering rocks and causing small stones to tumble and shatter on the rocky floor below.

Close to panic, the young Stoman peered out from the ledge, desperate to locate whatever was making the noise. The screeching increased in volume, the sound tearing at his eardrums.

Suddenly a thick sinuous shape spat overhead, the wind from its passage almost knocking the boy from where he stood. Others soon followed, their scaled bodies glinting horribly in the setting sun. Huge talons and wicked teeth shone and twinkled in the light. Calling and hissing to each other, the creatures sped through the air, lashing at the rock spires with their barbed tails as they swept past. The whir of their dragonfly wings reverberated around the stone surroundings. The young Stoman clung to the outcrop with white knuckles, shivering and sweating.

With a final rush of wind and a flashing glimpse of scales, they were gone, their cries dwindling into the distance.

‘Legends, they’re only supposed to be legends,’ the boy whispered to himself. ‘They can’t be real, they can’t.’

Sliding from his perch, he fled home to tell his rock-siblings that Wyrms once more flew in Bellanian skies.

8

An Introduction to K’Changa

‘We’ll set up camp here for the night,’ said Jensen.

After yet another hard day of marching with the Tremen, Charlie was ready for a rest. All the amazing sights she’d seen over the past three days, the strange creatures and the entertaining company, had kept a smile firmly plastered on her face, but her feet were aching.

The Tremen busied themselves making a fire and preparing food.

‘Can I help?’ Charlie asked Jensen, who was clearing a space for sleeping.

‘Ya just rest, lass. We’ve set a good pace. I reckon another day and a half will see us in Sylvaris,’ he said, the constant twinkle in his eyes brighter than ever.

‘Will I like it?’ asked Charlie.

‘Like it? Why, of course ya will! It’s not called the Flower of Deepforest for nothing. But we’ll be there ta look after ya, me little Hippotomi, and it’ll be a pleasure ta show ya around and introduce ya ta the Jade Circle.’

‘Promise?’

‘Of course, so long as ya promise not ta start stompin’ those feet!’ snorted Jensen.

‘Hhmpf!’

‘Hey, boys, we got a grumpy lass in our midst!’ shouted Jensen. ‘Wot say we give her a little K’Changa demonstration?’

Charlie grabbed Jensen by his ear. Pulling him down to her head height, she whispered quite sternly, ‘I’m not grumpy!’

‘I know, sweetheart, but dis gives me an excuse ta beat Kelko and some of the boys at K’Changa. It’s been a while and if I don’t stay on top of them, they’ll say I’ve lost me edge!’ whispered Jensen.

‘OK, but what’s K’Changa – a board game?’ asked Charlie.

‘Ya’ll see!’ he said, and threw her a cheeky wink. As he walked off, Charlie could hear him talking and chuckling to himself. ‘K’Changa a board game? Ha! A board game!’

Before Charlie could ask what he was talking about, Jensen, Kelko and five of the other Tremen stripped off their shoes and shirts. Walking to the centre of the clearing in just their trousers, they began to stretch and warm up. Stotch, with a blazing torch in his hand, burned a wide circle into the grass.

‘Hey, Stotch, what’s K’Changa?’ asked Charlie.

‘It’s a sport, blossom. It’s like dis: the boys are gonna fight over a shuttlecock, which we call a Zephyr. The one who can hold on ta it for a slow count of ten wins. Wot makes it difficult is ya can’t actually
hold
the Zephyr, nor can ya drop it ta the floor. Ya have ta keep possession through
striking it – knees, feet, hands, chest and head are allowed, but absolutely no holding. Anyone who grabs it gets an instant disqualification. Nor can ya leave the circle with the Zephyr – that’ll get ya disqualified too.’ Noticing that Charlie looked thoroughly confused, he pulled her over to the edge of the circle and they sat down. ‘Here, watch and see.’

The Tremen who weren’t playing also sat down. They brought out their drums and soon a wild and fiery rhythm was flying around the clearing. Stotch threw extra timber on the fire and when the flames were roaring and the drums beating, the players prepared to start the game.

‘All right, then!’ called out Jensen. ‘Cos ya lazy lumps can’t hope ta match me grace and sheer talent, I’ll let whoever first wins the Zephyr keep it for a count of five before I join the game!’

Stotch, who was sitting next to Charlie, began to whisper commentary. ‘Jensen’s one of the best – trouble is he knows it. The boys will really hope ta take him down a peg or two!’

‘A count of five?’ roared Kelko. ‘That’s crazy talk! If ya give me a head start like that, y’know I’m gonna kick yer skinny green backside!’

‘Ha! Let’s see, then!’ cried Jensen. ‘Stotch, throw in the Zephyr!’

Stotch pulled a shuttlecock from his bag. It had been made with startlingly blue feathers and bound with golden thread. With a casual flick of his wrist, he threw it into the centre of the circle.

The Tremen burst into motion. Spinning and somersaulting, they kicked and struck at the Zephyr, keeping it aloft. Green bodies gleaming, they flashed and spun through the
air. With jewellery clattering and feet stomping, they timed each movement to coincide with the rolling drumbeat.

Charlie’s jaw dropped open. She didn’t know what to make of it. It was like nothing she’d ever seen before. The closest thing she could compare it to was martial arts mixed with dancing and gymnastics, but all ferociously blended together by a tornado. She loved it.

Kelko, amazingly graceful considering his huge bulk, hooked the Zephyr out of the air and, with rapid taps, weaved the shuttlecock past all the other Tremen. Flipping on to his hands, he kicked it skyward, then flipped back to his feet to regain control of it with a toss of his head. Tapping the Zephyr with his knees, he spun away from the circle’s edge and back into the fray.

Stotch began to count and Charlie joined in:
‘One … Two … Three …!’ Jensen was calmly standing by the side of the grassy circle. ‘Four … Five …!’

With a shout, Jensen burst into the circle. Kelko saw him coming and flipped out of the way. Spinning and weaving, he anxiously tried to keep the other Tremen between himself and Jensen. It didn’t slow Jensen down at all. Ducking and gliding and with the beating of the drums pushing him on, Jensen drew closer to Kelko and the shuttlecock.

Charlie was still counting: ‘… Seven … Eight … Nine …!’

Whipping his leg around, Jensen hooked the Zephyr from Kelko. Laughing and catcalling, Jensen cartwheeled away, the shuttlecock seeming to blur and weave around his body. Kelko howled in annoyance and leaped after the jeering Treman.

‘One … Two … Three,’ shouted Charlie, starting the count anew.

Inside the circle, all the Tremen were desperately chasing Jensen. The pace intensified and, as the drums began to pound even faster, the booming base of the percussion filled the firelit clearing.

Charlie could feel her blood boil as she was caught up in the excitement. Inside the circle the Tremen were frantically flinging out all their best moves and combinations. Jensen continued to taunt them and laugh at their efforts.

‘Four … Five … Six …!’

Bellowing, Kelko clambered up an unfortunate Treman. Using the Treman’s shoulders like a springboard, he flung himself across the circle, right at Jensen’s back.

‘Seven … Eight …!’

Kelko, stomach wobbling, arms flailing, flew through the air. Stretching out his hands, he reached for the Zephyr.

‘Nine …!’

‘Jensen’s gonna lose it!’ shouted Stotch.

‘It’s mine!’ cried Kelko, his wrist flicking out to snatch at the Zephyr. ‘It’s mine!’

‘Get ’im!’ shouted another Treman.

The rest of the players launched themselves at Jensen’s legs.

Laughing wickedly, Jensen flicked the shuttlecock upward and, somersaulting after it, leaped above Kelko’s astonished face. The remaining Tremen slammed together in a heap and fell to the ground, groaning and cursing. Kelko flew out of the circle and landed, backside first, in the fire. Screaming and hollering, he leaped up and raced around the glade, beating at his flaming trousers.

Jensen landed cat-like with a huge grin, the Zephyr balancing on his head.

‘Ten!’ called out Charlie.

‘Shazam!’ shouted Jensen, flinging the Zephyr overhead. ‘Who’s the daddy?’ He started to dance and jig around. ‘Who’s the man? Who’s the best? Who’s got game? Ye-hah! Ride them, pappy, ride them!’ He galloped around the clearing on an imaginary horse and waved a pretend cowboy hat in the air. He cackled in delight as he passed Kelko, who was busy pouring water over his burnt backside.

‘Wow, that was incredible!’ said Charlie, eyes wide with excitement. ‘Stotch, you’ve got to teach me how to do that!’

‘Not me, blossom,’ he said, joining in with the Tremen’s applause. ‘K’Changa’s not me style at all! But if ya were ta ask Kelko or Jensen I’m sure they’ll be glad ta teach ya.’

‘Do you think they would?’

‘Sure, Charlie, of course they would. Tell ya wot, why don’t ya go and ask Kelko? I’m sure he would give ya a couple of lessons.’

Charlie flashed Stotch a big grin. Jumping up from her seat, she ran over to Kelko. ‘Kelko, I had no idea you could move like that!’

‘Ahh!’ groaned Kelko in relief as he poured more water over his blackened trousers. ‘Oh, me poor backside! One of these days I’m gonna beat that cheeky Treman! Boss or no boss, he’s still a cheating, good for nothing …’

‘Uh, Kelko, there’s something I’d like to ask.’

‘… smug, mischievous, low-down …’

‘Hello, Kelko!’

‘… squinty-eyed, tricky, bamboozling …’

‘Kelko, please, it’s important!’

‘… shifty, nasty piece of work …’

‘KELKO!’ snapped Charlie, finally losing her patience and stamping her foot.

‘Uh, oh, sorry, Charlie,’ said Kelko. Sighing, he gave his backside one final rub. ‘Wot can I do for ya?’

‘Can you teach me K’Changa?’

Kelko blinked and, forgetting his burnt backside, eyed Charlie as though weighing her worth. ‘Ya want ta learn K’Changa, eh, blossom? Hmm, let me see.’

Reaching over, he undid her messy ponytails. He then pulled out a wooden comb and gave her hair a couple of quick strokes before, with nimble hands, retying her hair into a topknot. Taking one of his wooden bracelets from his wrist, he fastened it round her newly shaped hair. He stepped back and gave her a steady appraisal.

‘Teach ya K’Changa?’ he said with a bright smile. ‘That, me little lass, is something I can do!’

9

Troubled Thoughts