"No," I said. I could just imagine the old guardian dropping dead of a heart attack.
Cornelius lowered the troll back to its original resting place. "Three-point landing," he announced.
Robin clapped his hands, slowly.
Ignoring, or not noticing, the obvious sarcasm, Cornelius bowed. And placed the necklace around his own neck.
"How come you get all the goodies?" I asked, though Thea still held the sword.
"As I explained to Robin while you were busy cuddling with the troll, since these objects are magic, who better to look after them than a magic-user?"
"Well, I'm keeping the sword," Thea said. "An elf warrior could make better use of it than a wizard."
"Perhaps," Cornelius said smugly. "Perhaps not."
Thea gave the thing a fancy flip. I half expected that she'd had enough and was finally going to chop off Cornelius's head, but the flip ended with her holding the sword broadside-up about two inches from his nose. "Orc Slayer," she said and her tone hinted that she
had
thought of her other options. "It says its name is Orc Slayer."
Cornelius ran his finger across the engraved script. The words were written in Common Tongue, the language we were using. I couldn't tell what metal the thing was made of—not iron, which Thea wouldn't have been able to handle, nor bronze.
"This wasn't made by trolls," Cornelius said.
Thea snatched the weapon away as though afraid he'd try to talk her out of it, and tucked it into her belt.
"The boots have writing on them, too," Robin said in the uncomfortable silence. "Show them, Cornelius."
Cornelius sat down on the ground and crossed his legs, holding one foot up by the ankle so that we could see the sole of the boot. Probably he didn't trust us enough to take the boot off.
Etched into the bottom of each boot were these words:
Northward, Southward, Eastward, Westward,
Inward, Outward,
Always Homeward,
That is the Magic Word.
"Nice boots," Robin said. "Lousy poetry."
"How come the boots fit you?" I asked Cornelius. "The troll's feet are a lot bigger."
He shrugged. "As soon as I put them on, they just kind of ... molded themselves to my size. As a matter of fact, I put them on over my regular boots."
"That's the magic," Robin said. "They fit whoever wears them. There are Nike salesmen who would kill for that spell."
"There's more to it than that," Thea said, sounding as though Cornelius's self-confidence and Robin's flippancy were beginning to get to her. "If you read the poem—"
"I read the poem," Cornelius snapped. "It doesn't make any sense."
She turned her back on him.
"Well,
I
think," Robin announced, "you should give the crystal to Felice."
"Why?" Cornelius asked.
"Why?" I echoed.
"Just in case it has healing powers."
"The old man said no," I reminded Robin.
"The old man said he didn't know."
Sulkily Cornelius handed the crystal over to my mother.
"You don't know what that does," I told her as she slipped it over her neck.
"Oh, Harek," she said as she adjusted it, "you worry too much. This is just a game."
Oh yeah?
I thought.
Since when?
I waited two seconds. Then I asked, "Well, does it work?" Silly question. One look at Mom's face had already told me it didn't.
"Maybe you have to wish on it," Thea suggested.
Mom clutched the tiny crystal fervently.
"Maybe you have to wish out loud," Cornelius said.
Mom clutched the tiny crystal and said, "I wish my headache would go away."
"Maybe you have to wear the necklace, walk in the boots, and kill an ore with the sword, all at the same time," Robin said.
"Maybe the thing is worthless," I snapped.
Robin spared a dirty look for me before he turned back to Mom. "Well, keep it for a while and see what happens."
"Yeah," I added. "If you start to develop warts and leathery skin, let us know." A moment later I realized how bad that sounded, but by then it was too late.
"Let's get going," Thea said. "The afternoon's already half gone."
And how are Marian and her group doing?
I wondered.
Heading back to the horses, I heard Cornelius muttering under his breath.
I gave him a shove and told him, "You have something to say to me, you say it to my face."
"I didn't say anything," he protested. "I mean, I was just repeating the poem from the boots, trying to figure it out." He looked for support from Robin, Thea, and Mom, all of whom had heard my outburst and were watching me warily.
My face went all hot. "Sorry," I muttered. They were ganging up on me even when they weren't ganging up on me.
" 'Northward, Southward...,' " Cornelius repeated as we tightened our saddles, checked the bindings on our provisions. He shook his head. "
What
is the magic word?"
"The whole rhyme?" Robin suggested.
"I've said the whole rhyme," Cornelius told him.
Thea said, "The poem is written twice, once on each boot. Maybe you have to say it twice."
Cornelius took a deep breath. "'Northward, Southward, Eastward, Westward, Inward, Outward, Always Homeward. Northward, Southward, Eastward, Westward, Inward, Outward, Always Homeward.'"
"Kind of catchy, huh?" Robin asked.
"No." I was watching Mom, who looked all tired out and not very steady. "Maybe you should find out what the spell
does
before you try to figure out how to do it," I suggested.
"It's a traveling spell," Cornelius said. "Obviously. 'Northward, Southward...'"
Thea said, "The boots said, 'That is the magic word.' Not 'Those are.' It must be a one-word spell."
You could see the light bulb go on over Cornelius's head. "You say where you want to go," he cried. "And you get transported there." Then, before anyone could warn him to be careful, "Sannatia!" he said.
Nothing happened.
"Rasmussem!" he said.
Still nothing.
"Princess Dorinda!"
"That's two words," I told him.
"You're no help at all, Harek."
"Maybe you're not getting the poem right," I said. "Maybe you're leaving out a word."
"Harek," Cornelius said, "the poem is not so very hard to remember. It's only eight words long."
"Look, to be sure," Thea said.
Cornelius sighed. Angrily he flung himself down onto the dusty road and picked up one foot. "'Northward-SouthwardEastwardWestward,'" he read in a rush. "'inward-OutwardAlwaysHomewardThat—'"
He wasn't there anymore.
The air shimmered the way it sometimes does over the road on a real hot day, or when you look directly at a fire. But then the air unwrinkled, and all that was left was the dust settling slowly back to the road.
Thea yelped, "My sword!" and indicated her sword belt, where there was nothing. Mom touched her neck, where there was no necklace.
"
That,
" I moaned. "
That
is the magic word."
Everyone groaned.
"Stupid thing," Robin mumbled.
We went back around the cottage and found Cornelius pulling the boots off the troll again.
"
That,
" I said, just in case he hadn't caught on. "Don't use the word
that.
"
"I'm not an idiot," he said.
I didn't argue. I only told him, "You better not put those boots back on. There's no telling when and where you might unexpectedly end up back here again."
"Well, now I know," he said, handing the sword back to Thea, the crystal back to Mom. He'd snapped the chain, then tied a knot in it. "I'll be careful."
"You'll never be that careful," I said.
He winked and pointed, to indicate he'd caught me using the magic word, which he'd be too clever to do accidentally.
Thea bundled her sword away, but said, "We're not coming back for you again."
For once she was on my side.
Late in the afternoon we rode around a curve in the road and found dead bodies.
Two men. Two horses. Their deaths were recent enough that the bodies hadn't yet begun to smell, but something had gotten to them already. Something that had eaten major portions. Mom was looking anywhere but at the bodies. The others seemed excited at the prospect of a new adventure, gruesome or not. I felt the reverse: this was gruesome, adventure or not.
Cornelius went into his Reveal Evil routine, before he remembered he'd already used that spell up for that day.
"Eventually," Thea pointed out, "we're going to have to go past them."
I was determined not to let her show me up, so I dismounted and examined the tracks in the road.
"Wolves." I pointed at the tracks. "A lot of them. And it looks like when they finished here, they headed off in the same direction we're going."
"Did the wolves kill these guys," Cornelius asked, "or were they dead before?"
That was exactly the kind of thing I'd been doing my best to avoid seeing. "Ahh, no sign of arrows," I said, though I certainly hadn't examined enough to go around making pronouncements like that.
Mom said, "Wolves don't attack people."
"Maybe not at home," Robin told her. "But things are different here."
I searched the ground for more clues.
With a sigh, Thea brushed past me and moved in closer to the bodies. She turned one over on its back and stooped for a closer look. "Still warm," she said.
I had difficulty with my next swallow.
Then she got up and strolled around the area, seeming pretty nonchalant about the situation. "I don't know," she announced. "It's impossible to tell whether they had sword wounds before the wolves came."
"So what does that mean?" Mom asked.
"Nothing." Thea wiped her hands on her pants, though I hadn't seen that she'd gotten any blood on them, and swung back up on her horse. "Either they were killed by a pack of wild wolves, or they were killed by something or somebody first and then scavenged by wolves right after. But in any case, they were killed just a few minutes ago. That means we have wolves, and possibly something or somebody else, uncom
fortably close to us. And it's going to be dark soon." She suddenly turned on me. "Come on, Harek, let's go. Stop being such a ghoul."
Me? I wasn't the one going around touching dead people to find out corpse temperatures. But I remounted without saying anything and we rode on. It was my turn up front, and I slowed our already slow pace. I jumped at every rustle of leaves, nearly had a coronary each time a bird or a squirrel decided to shift position.
After about the fourth time I'd motioned for the others to stop talking so loud, Cornelius rode up to me and said, "Would you knock it off, Harek? You're making everyone crazy. What do you think you—"
From just ahead, a wolf howled.
Cornelius almost fell off his horse. But while I sat there like a lump of cold oatmeal, he recovered immediately and spurred his horse ahead. Thea and Robin tore in right behind him. I came to my senses enough to get going before my mother left me in the dust.
We burst into a clearing. It was about as big as the parking lot at school. And like the parking lot after a rain, there was a small lake at the far end. Running along the edge of that lake were about two dozen large wolves. Running maybe two seconds ahead of the lead wolf was a man.
Cornelius raised his hands and flung out Wizards' Lightning. There was a
crackle!
then the two front-running wolves disappeared into a fuzzy blue explosion of burnt fur and sulfur.
Still running, the man turned his head toward us. Despite the distance, I could read the fear and horror on his face. I didn't blame him. Five of us, more than twenty wolves. And they were about five feet behind him, while we were the entire length of the clearing away.
Thea and Robin had already fitted arrows to their bows, and I reached behind for my quiver as they released. Mom, who didn't have a bow but only a slingshot, was bouncing up and down in her saddle, waving for the man to run toward us.
But whether he was reluctant to bring the wolves on us, or was afraid to put himself between our weapons and the wolves, or was just too confused to know what he was doing, he continued to run along the shore of the little lake. He was about halfway down its length. If he didn't change direction soon, he'd reenter the forest on the far side and there'd be nothing we could do to help him then.
Robin's arrow hit one of the wolves. Thea, using a shorter bow, didn't have the distance. But the wolves seemed aware of us now and were beginning to slow down just the tiniest bit. I'd finally gotten my crossbow ready and fired a bolt. It hit the new lead wolf, who collapsed and disappeared in a flurry of gray-and-white wolf bodies moving too fast to avoid trampling him.
Next to me, Cornelius shot another round of Wizards' Lightning, and two more wolves disappeared.
Mom had started yelling for the man, "Come here! Come to us!" despite her aching head.
Finally he seemed to catch on. By then the wolves had had it, and once he headed toward us, they dropped way behind.
Robin and I each got off another arrow, although we ended up shooting the same wolf. Cornelius, who could only use his Wizards' Lightning a limited number of times each day—depending on how much energy he put into each one—held back when he saw the wolves had given up the chase. As though on a command, they wheeled around from watching the man they'd been pursuing, from watching us, and disappeared into the forest.
The man we'd rescued kept looking over his shoulder. Once the wolves were gone, he slowed to an unsteady walk. He had his hand pressed to his side. As we approached, he dropped to his knees, looking exhausted. Then he coughed, and spat up blood.
"Thank you," he said with what little breath he had left. "Thank you. Friends. You saved my life."
"Don't try to talk," Mom warned him. She didn't look like she should be talking either. Now that the excitement was over, she looked like she might fall out of her saddle. Suddenly I thought she
was
falling and reached out to grab her, but then realized she was simply dismounting. I hid my movement by getting down also.