Kerka's Book (6 page)

“Will I be able to ride the Redbird Wind again?” I asked hopefully. Birdie and I had ridden the mighty Redbird Wind together. It had felt just like flying, and I had loved every single second.

“No,” Queen Patchouli said. “You'll be going elsewhere, and these knots work differently from the feathers.”

“How about Zally's map?” I asked.

“You won't need the map,” Queen Patchouli
said, softening her tone. “All you need are landmarks: Glass Lake, Three Queens, and a snowy mountain. You'll
know
the way.”

I wasn't sure about that, but I hoped it was true. The directions sounded simple, but I knew it would be harder than it seemed. Still, there would be some mountain climbing, so that would be fun. I've always loved hiking, and snowy mountains didn't worry me. Plus I had the magic rope with knots, so I'd ride the wind somehow; now I was looking forward to just
starting
.

“Follow your instinct, and look for the Kalistonia Fairies.” With those words, Queen Patchouli kissed my forehead. Then she turned in a swirl of green and walked into the woods, disappearing instantly. The remaining fairies followed her, vanishing, as well, into the foliage.

4
Three Paths Twice

I stood on the edge of the woods. Instinct. What did my instinct tell me? It told me to look around carefully and make an informed decision. I pulled aside the branches that the fairies had just gone through. There were three distinct trails going through the willows.

The left-hand path looked like it was covered with pine needles; the middle path was made of sand. A squirrel sat on the right-hand path, which was made of small gray pebbles, staring at me. I couldn't tell if it was the same squirrel I had met earlier, but it seemed like a sign. When the squirrel scampered down the path and then paused to look back, I made a decision. I followed the squirrel.

The little animal ran ahead of me, staying out of reach. It paused now and then, twisting its brown
head around to make sure I was still there. The path wove on beyond the willow trees and through an evergreen forest strewn with rocks and ferns. As I walked, the air grew cooler, and I was just thinking about putting the coat on when I almost stumbled as the path became wide stone steps leading down to a large lake. The moment I stepped onto the lake's bank, the squirrel turned and darted back the way we had come.

“Good-bye!” I called, feeling suddenly alone. It was possible I would be by myself for this whole quest. It would have been nice to have someone with me, but I knew that I would be all right. This way, I could do exactly what I thought I needed to do without having to explain things to anyone. It could save a lot of time, being alone.

As I stared out over the lake, I realized what Queen Patchouli had said was true: I didn't need a map. The lake's surface was so still—like glass—and the pointed peaks of the three mountains on the far side of it were bathed in an unworldly golden glow. The mountains had to be the Three Queens, and the fairy-built raft of willow logs floating in the reeds would take me to where their slopes began.

I folded my coat and placed it on the raft beside a long pole. I wore my backpack so there was no
chance of dropping it in the lake—unless I fell in. Aventurine is full of surprises, and something that looked safe could easily be dangerous. Large creatures might live in the lake or the calm water could suddenly become a tidal wave or a whirlpool. I had learned how to swim with Birdie, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it again without the river maidens' magic. I was thankful that at least the idea of swimming didn't bother me anymore, or this would have been a lot harder.

Gripping the sides of the raft with both hands, I pushed off. Jumping aboard just as it left shore, the tips of my toes touched the water. I didn't get far. Cattails and reeds along the banks snagged on both ends of the raft. Lying flat on the raft, I paddled with my hands until it floated free. Then I sat up and paused to get my bearings.

The fairies hadn't given me a paddle, but I could push the raft with the pole, at least until the lake got too deep. Shifting carefully, I looked over the raft's edge. The water was so clear, I could see everything in detail right down to the bottom of the lake. A translucent yellow fish with a rainbow top fin swam through plants with clear round leaves. A school of pink wiggly worms followed the fish.

Grabbing the pole, I stood so that my weight
was evenly distributed. The raft rocked a little on the quiet water, but I felt steady. I slipped the end of the eight-foot pole into the water and pulled it out when it touched bottom. Most of the pole remained dry, telling me that the water was shallow. I was still close to shore, though, so the water could get deeper in the middle.

Setting my sights on the three distant mountains, I put the pole back in the water and pushed. The raft moved forward. I pulled the pole partway up, jammed it into the bottom again, and pushed. After a few minutes, I settled into the rhythm of the poling motion—plunge, push, lift. It reminded me of music or playing a game. Every song, dance, or sport has a rhythm all its own. I can tell that I've got the hang of something new when the rhythm feels right.

But there's a downside, too. When I get into the zone of whatever I'm doing, it's like being lulled to sleep. So I wasn't ready when something yanked on the pole and almost pulled me into the water. I sat down hard and hung on to the pole—without it, I'd have to paddle with my hands all the way across the lake, and I didn't have time for that!

One of the logs the raft was made of was bigger around than the others. I pressed my heels against it for leverage and pulled the pole back. The thing in
the water pulled harder and dragged me close to the raft's edge. I looked down at the water and saw beneath the surface a giant, flat bluish-green creature that looked like a stingray with pincers for a mouth. The pincers were clamped around my pole.

I played tug-of-war with the ray until my arms got tired. Pulling wasn't working, so I yanked the pole back and forth as fast as I could. The stingray didn't let go—instead, its pincers broke off as if they were made of glass! I felt terrible. I hadn't meant to hurt the creature.

I pulled the pole onto the raft. The ray hovered nearby, as though it were hoping the pole would come back. Just before it got bored and swam away, I saw the nubs of new pincers where the old ones had been. I touched the broken pincers on my pole. They felt like glass. I pried them off and held them up to the light. They really looked like glass. Queen Patchouli had used the name Glass Lake. Maybe the lake didn't just look like glass—maybe all the plants and creatures in the lake
were
glass!

When I started poling again, I kept looking down at the water as well as up at the mountains. Scanning the lake became part of the poling motion. I was alert for living creatures but not for other dangers. When I was halfway across, I pushed, expecting
my pole to touch bottom. It didn't, and I almost fell off the raft. I didn't fall—I just sat down hard—but now I had another problem.

I didn't have a paddle, and the water was too deep for me to use the pole. The raft just bobbed. I was stuck lying down and paddling with my hands. Unfortunately, it turned out that my fingers looked like something tasty to eat and that the little glass fishies were scared of nothing. Although I paddled as fast as I could, I was nipped several times. I was so busy trying not to be fish food, a few minutes passed before I felt the breeze on my neck.

Looking up, I saw dark clouds scooting across the sky from behind me. In a moment the calm surface of the lake would be hit by the strong wind. Ripples were starting already, and if I didn't move fast, the raft could be swamped by waves! If I fell in the water, I doubted that my clothes would turn into a sleek wetsuit without the river maidens' magic—the weight of my boots alone would pull me down before I could possibly swim to shore!

I was just about to take my boots off, when I got an idea. It was crazy, but worth trying. I unfolded my coat and put it on, but I didn't fasten the buttons. I stood up, gripped the front edges, and held the coat open like a sail, facing the wind. The breeze seemed
to embrace me as it filled the coat, and the coat's soft, strange material expanded as the wind filled it, turning it into a small sail. The wind in my sail-coat pushed the raft toward the far shore. I closed my eyes, the wind blowing in my face, as I raced the oncoming storm.

Bending my knees, I was able to ride the raft like a surfboard. I had no sooner settled into that rhythm than I was pelted by something. I opened my eyes to see flying fish, seemingly made of glass, zipping past me. The small fish weren't hitting me on purpose. We were going in the same direction, fleeing the storm. Most of the fish cleared both the raft and me, but the ones that hit me and fell to the hard logs shattered. Some left tiny cuts on my hands and neck before their school changed course and moved out of harm's way.

I sailed the raft the rest of the way across the lake—almost. The storm died out as quickly as it had risen, my coat shrank to its normal size, and I folded it back up. Then I used the pole to push the raft the last fifty yards to the beach. I jumped to the shore and hauled the raft onto the sand, stowing the pole underneath. Picking up my coat, I paused to look around.

The sandy beach was edged with large scattered rocks. Beyond the rocks was a wall of stones. The
wall was quite high, and looked to be covered with moss of some sort. I wondered if I could climb it.

The three mountains were still some distance away, and I had to crane my neck to see the peaks. The golden glow over the tops of the Three Queens shone brilliantly even in daylight. With no other clues to consider, instinct and logic told me to head toward the mountains.

A clickety-click sound grabbed my attention just as something pinched my left boot. Startled, I looked down. A six-inch crablike creature had clamped on to my foot with a large claw. The crab's eyes, which were attached to floppy three-inch stalks, stared back at me like those of a small alien. The other claw made a clicking noise as the creature repeatedly opened and snapped it closed. My boot's leather was thick enough to protect my toes from the crab's pincers, but shaking my foot didn't dislodge the little beast. I would have thought a creature made of glass might be a little more careful about who it grabbed!

“You've bitten off way more than you can chew, little guy.” I shook my finger at the creature as I scolded it. Then I blinked and smiled, inspired by my own words. “But I have something that's much tastier than my boot.”

Being careful not to poke the water pods, I opened the food pack and broke off a small piece of what looked like a cake made of sunflower seeds and carefully placed it on top of my boot. The crab's eyes atop their floppy stalks stopped jiggling as they studied my offering, but the crab didn't let go or try to grab the cake. Anxious to get moving, I tried stamping my heel to jar the creature loose, but the claw clamped down tighter, and it hung on.

The crab's one-claw clickety-click taunt became a noisy clatter as more crabs suddenly swarmed to joined the chorus. Interestingly enough, not a single one skittered near the rocks.

I was wondering if I would have to just break its little claw off—hoping that it would grow a new one like the stingray—when I tried one last idea. Walking on the heel of my left boot so I wouldn't break the crab, I slowly made my way to a large rock. As soon as I climbed onto it, the crab let go of my boot, dropped into the sand, and scurried back to the crab-creature colony.

From here I was right beside the stone wall. The moss was more of a slime—so although there appeared to be places where I could put a hand or foot, the wall was too slippery to climb. Switching the heavy coat to my other arm, I jumped to the next big
rock. I headed down the beach this way, looking for a break in the stone wall. I had to get over it to reach the Three Queens.

Suddenly I remembered the knotted wind rope. I couldn't climb the barrier, but a strong wind could carry me over. I opened the blue drawstring pouch and pulled out the rope. Just as I was about to touch the first knot, I asked myself: Was it wise to use one of the magic knots so soon?

I put the rope back in its pouch. Then I took a piece of cake from the other pouch and nibbled as I continued jumping from rock to rock. I found cracks between boulders here and there, but they were too narrow for anything except a butterfly flying sideways to squeeze through. Looking up, I realized that the rock wall blocked my view of the Three Queens. On the off chance that seeing the crowned peaks would give me a brainstorm, I jumped off the rock.