Kendra Kandlestar and the Shard From Greeve (7 page)

IT TOOK HOURS for Kendra to fall asleep that night. She tossed and turned, her mind engulfed by the day’s events. When at last she met her slumber, she found herself in an uneven land of dreams—there Ratchet, Winter Woodsong, her brother Kiro, and old Uncle Griffinskitch were calling out her name from behind iron bars.
Kendra! Kendra!

She writhed in her sheets, trying to escape the dream, but the voices only grew louder and more desperate.

“Kendra! Kendra!”

She sprang up in bed, perspiration dripping from her forehead.

Someone really
was
calling her name! Confused, Kendra looked about her pitch-black room. Where was the voice coming from? Then she noticed a glint of light from her bookshelf, near the window. The maiden’s mirror!

She leapt from her sheets and rushed over to pick up the enchanted glass. Sure enough, there was the goatlike face of Effryn Hagglehorn, staring back at her from the mirror. The hairy ears of the chubby little Faun were twitching nervously as he spoke.

“Well shear my shin hair!” Effryn brayed. “You
are
there!”

“It’s the middle of the night!” Kendra cried, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “And where have
you
been? I’ve been waiting months to hear from you.”

“I’ve . . . er, had some difficulties,” Effryn stammered uneasily.

“What kind of difficulties?” Kendra asked.

“The
Krake
kind,” the Faun replied earnestly. “I’ve been rotting away in the dungeons of their wretched castle—until tonight that is. I managed to escape, sure as your shorn! I’m just lucky that Queen Krake didn’t make me fight in that awful Rumble Pit of hers!”

“Rumble Pit? What’s that?”

“’Tis an awful place,” Effryn replied with a shudder. “One giant gladiator pit, that’s the best way to describe it. Queen Krake catches all sorts and makes ’em fight in there. Giants, Centaurs—even dragons!”

Kendra sat down on her bed, cradling the mirror in her lap. “How did you end up in such a mess?”

“I was just coming to that,” Effryn said. “Kendra, do you have any idea what’s been happening in the world since you destroyed the Door to Unger?”

“My uncle says there’s a war going on.”

“Wax my wool! A war indeed!” Effryn cried, his eyes wide with excitement. “It’s madness, I tell you. It’s monster against monster out here, clan against clan. Ungers, Goojuns, Izzards, Orrids, Krakes—all five clans, just clawing and snapping at each other.”

“My uncle thinks it has to do with Greeve’s cauldron,” Kendra said.

“He’s a clever old fellow, that uncle of yours,” Effryn told her. “Must be all them whiskers. He’s right, sure as your shorn. Rumor is, they’re trying to rebuild the cauldron so that they can resurrect Greeve’s curse.”

“Could that really happen?” Kendra asked.

“Well, crop my crown, I don’t know,” Effryn said, with a worried twitch of his nose. “But that hasn’t stopped them from trying. But see, the problem is that there seems to be at least one fragment of the cauldron missing: a tiny shard. So all the beasties are fighting each other, trying to find the pieces. Whoever ends up with the whole cauldron will have all the power . . . or so they say.”

Kendra tugged on her braids, deep in thought. “So where’s the shard?”

“Well, er . . . that’s the thing, see,” Effryn bleated, somewhat nervously.

“Oh no,” the Een girl groaned. “You have it, don’t you?”

“No, not exactly,” Effryn said. “I did take the shard, that’s true—just as the maze was collapsing I saw that broken cauldron, you see, and I says to myself, I says ‘Effryn, you ought to take a piece of that cauldron, sure as you’re shorn, for it must be worth something.’ And so I sneakily snatched it.”

“But you don’t have it anymore?”

“Er . . . no.”

“Then who does?”

“Well, actually . . . you see, it’s like this, you see . . .” Effryn mumbled.

“Just tell me!” Kendra demanded.

Effryn let out a long exhale. “You do,” he said finally.

Kendra gasped and her eyes darted from the mirror over to the dusty bookshelf, where a knot of paper lay. Inside that bit of paper was the broken piece of stone that only a few weeks ago had seemed so uninteresting to her.

“You still have it, I hope?” Effryn asked fretfully.

Kendra nodded, turning to look back at the Faun’s image. “But why did you give the shard to
me
?”

“After I took it, I became real nervous,” Effryn explained. “It gave me a funny feeling, a dark feeling. So I thought, I don’t want to just throw it away, but I don’t want to be carrying it around either. So I gave it to you to keep it safe. No monsters can get through the magic curtain of Een, right? So with you, it’s safe.”

“Effryn, you had no right to lie to me,” Kendra said.

“I know it,” he said sheepishly. “But listen . . . there’s one more thing I have to tell you . . . I’ve seen your brother.”

It took a moment for Kendra to find her voice. “Kiro? He’s all right then? Is he . . .” She paused, trying to find the courage to ask the question she so desperately wanted answered: was her brother Een or Unger?

“Kendra,” Effryn said softly, “he’s Trooogul.”

Kendra felt her eyes swell with tears. “Is he all right?”

“I wish I could say so,” the Faun replied. “The last place I saw him was in the queen’s dungeons. And I’ll bet every hair in my beard that she’ll make him fight in that Rumble Pit.”

“And you just left him behind?” Kendra exclaimed. “How come you didn’t help him escape?”

“Well, lop my locks!” Effryn brayed. “Do you know how difficult it was for
me
to bust out of there?”

Kendra just stared at him, trying to stifle a sob.

“Listen, Kendra,” Effryn said. “Trooogul doesn’t want my help. He’s gone crazy, sure as your shorn! He’s like all the rest of them beasties—obsessed with finding the shard from Greeve.”

Kendra looked at the Faun in surprise. “What? Why would Kiro want to rebuild the cauldron?”

“He’s . . . he’s an Unger, after all,” Effryn stammered uncomfortably. “I guess his allegiance is with them beasties.”

“That’s impossible!” Kendra uttered.

“I wish I knew what to tell you,” Effryn said. “Trooogul tracked
me
down. I guess he saw me when I snatched that shard, so he was convinced I still had it. But I think the Krakes were following
him
, and so we both ended up getting captured. And the next thing you know, we’re both in Queen Krake’s dungeons. That’s where I finally told him the truth: that you had the shard. But that just made him act more wild and crazy.”

Kendra was now crying freely; she had to use the corner of a bed sheet to wipe away her tears. “He should be looking for me. Not some stupid cauldron.”

“I-I’m sorry, Kendra,” Effryn stuttered. “I wish it were different. I wish he was your brother again.”

“He’s still my brother!” Kendra retorted. “Just because he’s an Unger doesn’t change anything. I’m going to have to rescue him, as usual! How do I get to this dungeon?”

“You can’t just waltz into Krake Castle!” Effryn exclaimed.

“You managed to escape,” Kendra said.

“Sheer luck, sure as you’re shorn.”

“Just tell me how to get there,” Kendra persisted.

“There’s no warning you, is there?” he said after a moment.

Kendra glared at him.

Effryn sighed. “You’d have to cross the Fengir Forest to reach the Seas of Ire. There’s a Gnome town there—Ireshook. It’s a sailor town, rough and ready. But from there you might find a ship to take you cross the water.”

“Thank you,” Kendra said.

“Listen, Kendra,” Effryn bleated, “I have to go. I stashed my magic caravan just before I was captured, but now that I’ve got it again I have to hightail it out of here. For all I know, those beasties have discovered my empty cell and are hot on my hooves. I can’t stop you from going to Krake Castle, but whatever you do, keep that shard safe. The whole world seems to be fighting and murdering for it.”

Then the Faun’s picture faded and Kendra was left staring at her reflection. With a tug of a braid, she rose and returned the mirror to her shelf. And there she found her eyes irresistibly drawn to the crumpled bit of paper where the shard lay. Carefully, she picked up the tiny bundle and unwrapped the paper to gaze upon the piece of stone. It looked so worthless, so unimportant.

Slowly, she reached out and ran her finger lightly across the surface of the shard—and at once, a burst of energy rushed through her arm and into her chest. Her heart thumped so fast that for a moment she thought it would leap from her chest, like a beast finally freed from its cage. The surge of power was so great that it came with an explosive roar, a thunderous boom, shaking the entire house. Quickly, Kendra tossed the shard away; it landed with a dull thud in the corner of the room.

Trembling and dizzied, she collapsed to her bed. Her body was still pulsing and tingling, from the heels of her feet to the tips of her long braids. It was an overwhelming but strangely exhilarating feeling. For just the slightest of moments, she had felt so . . . powerful. And even though a part of her was frightened of the shard, another part of her wanted to hold it again, to once again experience its potent energy.

This is what magic should feel like
, she thought.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. How could the shard grant her such instant magic when she struggled so earnestly with her Eenwood? Had the whole house really shook or had she just imagined it?

She had not, for at that moment, Jinx came bursting through her door. The tiny grasshopper was holding a poker she had taken from the fireplace, wielding it like a weapon. Timidly taking up the rear was little Oki.

“What’s going on?” Jinx demanded.

“It felt like an earthquake!” Oki squeaked.

“An earthquake that came from
here
,” Jinx added.

“It’s . . . okay,” Kendra stammered. “It must have been the . . . mirror, the maiden’s mirror that Effryn gave me. You know these magic things.”

The lie stung as soon as it left her lips, but for a reason she couldn’t quite explain, she didn’t tell them about the shard. Quickly, she began spilling forth the whole story about her contact with Effryn. She told them how the missing shard had caused a fracture amongst the monsters, but she left out the important part—that she herself was in possession of the stone. Somehow, this urgent telling helped soothe her untruth, as if she could bury it beneath an avalanche of words.

When the tale was done, Jinx leaned heavily on her poker and sighed. “Well, there goes my night’s sleep. I think we ought to—,”

She was interrupted by a loud clang from downstairs.

“EEK!” Oki screeched, scrambling under Kendra’s bed. “Don’t think of pickles!”

“Shh!” Jinx hissed. “I keep telling you—baddies don’t announce themselves.”

Kendra coaxed the mouse out from beneath the bed, and together, the three friends crept down the stairs.

To Kendra’s surprise, someone was waiting for them in the kitchen, standing next to the fireplace. At the mere sight of this figure, Oki squealed with fright—for he looked all too similar to Leerlin Lurk. He was hunched and crooked and wore a heavy, hooded cloak that completely hid his face; the only difference was that this stranger was shorter; this at least made him seem a little less threatening than the vile Agent Lurk.

“Who are you?” Jinx demanded, brandishing her poker.

“And how did you get in my house?” Kendra added, for she could see that the door was still securely locked.

But the mysterious visitor ignored her question. “They have heard your magic,” he said gravely. “And they are coming for you.”