Jane and the Raven King (9 page)

T
he next morning, Jane wiped sleep sand from her eyes and forked a waffle bite in syrup. It tasted warm and sugary and wonderful, but she couldn’t concentrate. All the things Finn had told her went around and around in her head. Although she usually forgot her dreams, today was different. In her sleep, Jane had been standing at the center of a hurricane, with winds rushing in a dark vortex around her, ripping trees from the earth, shredding homes as if they were made of toothpicks, and she had heard someone laughing. It wasn’t an evil laugh—not the kind of laugh a villain or a monster would make in a movie. No, this was cold laughter. It was worse than evil because whoever was laughing was causing this destruction, and he simply didn’t care the way a normal person should.

She’d awakened frightened and shivering, and although Finn had consoled her, Jane couldn’t shake the dream or forget the horrible things the Raven King was supposed to have done. He’d killed all the Great Eagles and all the bobbins—all but Gaius—and now he wanted to do the same thing to ordinary people everywhere.

Manali watched Jane from across the table. They sat at the same empty table in the noisy, early-morning dining hall. “You’re not hungry?” Manali said. “What’s wrong?”

Jane still hadn’t talked with anyone about the things Finn had told her—or about Grandma Diana’s envelope that the rabbit had delivered to her on the Sunburn Road.

“What’s wrong?” Manali asked again.

“I’m just sleepy,” Jane said. “Manali, do you ever worry that maybe he—maybe the Raven King—could find us here?”

Manali looked confused. “What are you on about?”

“What if he finds us before we’re ready—before Gaius figures out which one of us is supposed to fight?”

“Silly, this castle is hidden like a Russian doll. Only someone who has been here before can find Castle Alsod, and I’m sure the Raven King has never been here.” But that didn’t make Jane feel any better. She was about to say more when a fireball burst in the center of the room, and Gaius called, “
Attention
!” Talking stopped, and everyone turned to listen. Gaius stood on a platform at the front of the room, beside his gong. “I hope you are all rested and ready. The tests begin today. Only one of you can face the Raven King. Today we’ll discover who it is. All your families have accomplished histories of magic, but none of that matters now.

“Our enemy is moving, so let me be very clear about this. Think of everything in the world that you love. Think about your families and your friends; think about your toys and your routines; think about your favorites places, your favorite smells, and your favorite memories. If the Raven King is not stopped, all of that will be lost. I don’t want to scare you, but only one of you can face him because
only one of you will be clever enough and strong enough to find and use the Name of the World.”

From the back of the hall, Thomas called, “Where is it?”

Kids turned to look, and Gaius said, “I don’t know. Today there will be three trials. Only one of you will pass all three. Are there any questions?”

A boy at another table burped, and children laughed. But Gaius didn’t.

“Let me say this again,” he said more quietly than before. “If our champion fails or if none of you passes all three tests, then we are all going to die.”

Thomas stared back at Gaius, unfazed.

“Now, then,” Gaius said. “If you fail a test, you will be immediately disqualified, and you will go home tonight. You have only one chance to pass each test. Does everyone understand? Good. Please stand up and head for the front door in an orderly manner. The first test is to walk on water.”

T
hey gathered on a plateau of dried mud alongside Castle Alsod, and Gaius said, “Before magic or skill, you need confidence. Your parents and your teachers have taught you that there is no such place as Hotland and that the Raven King is imaginary. That is completely backward. Right now the Raven King is using technology—electronic distractions like televisions, radios, computers, and phones—to muddle your parents’ minds. By the time they realize that they are in danger, it will be too late. You must believe in yourself and in Hotland. You must believe,” Gaius said, “that you can walk on water.”

The swamp trees faded like ghosts, leaving red water as far as Jane could see. In the distance, something arched over the water like a leafless tree trunk.

“Each of you will
walk
out there,” Gaius said, indicating the arch. “Finn is waiting on the other side. The Purple Marsh is home to many hungry things. Do not look at the shadows under the water. They will leave you alone if you ignore them. Does everyone understand?” He waited. “Good. Then who’s first?”

Thomas pushed to the front of the group and said, “I am.”

“Walk across the water,” Gaius said. “Do not doubt that you can…”

“I understand,” Thomas said, and he stepped onto the muck. The red water rippled in petroleum-rainbow rings, and Thomas’s foot went in. He paused, closed his eyes, and stepped out. The water caught him. There were whispers and gasps as Thomas slowly walked, never pausing, closer to the arch. His outline grew murky, until finally he passed under the arch and was gone.

“You see,” Gaius said. “It can be done. But before you take a step, you must
know
that you can do it.”

“I’ll go next,” a pale boy said.

Gaius whispered in the boy’s ear. The boy nodded, looked seriously at the water, took a step—and went splashing in. Children laughed, and Gaius hauled the boy out. The water left an orange stain on the boy’s skin and clothes.

“I’ll try harder,” the boy said, wiping his face. “I just need to—”

“I’m sorry,” Gaius said. “Return to your room.”

“But I didn’t even have a chance,” the boy said. “Come on, I barely touched the water.”

“I’m sorry,” Gaius said again, and he motioned to the next girl. “Go ahead, Julia.”

Julia made it three steps before the water gave, collapsing like a rotten board under her shoes. She swam back to the shore and climbed out, dripping and hugging her shirt. Three more kids fell in before another boy—a German named Gerhard—made it across. The losers were told to return to their rooms to dry off and get ready to go home.
Such a long way to come for nothing,
Jane thought.
It’s too bad.

She watched them fall in, one after another, until finally a third kid—a girl from Africa—made it across. Jane waited at the back of the crowd with Manali as it went on and on and on. At first the dunks elicited laughter, and when someone started to walk across, kids cheered and clapped, but now it was as monotonous as a math test.
Splash, splash, splash,
walk.
Splash,
walk,
splash, splash.

A girl who had walked halfway to the arch lost her footing and slipped under the water. Gaius called, “Marie?” Something surfaced near the spot where she had fallen in—it looked like a shark fin—and it went under again. “Marie!” Gaius raised his stick and said, “
Aparte jumbat!
”

The air sucked out of Jane’s lungs, and she gasped as a hole opened in the water—vacuumed out by the wind—where Marie had gone under. Jane could only see the top of the whirlpool. Something thrashed at the foaming edge, like a green limb with claws. Someone near Jane was crying and speaking in French. Jane could only make out the words
Marie
and
desole
, which sounded a lot like
desolate
.

Gaius lowered his staff, and the water settled again. But Marie didn’t come out.

“I’m sorry, Rory,” Gaius told the crying French girl. He put his arm around her. “She was almost across…”

“I don’t want to,” the French girl said, shaking her head at the water and the empty place where Marie had been. “No!”

“All right.” Gaius held her for a long moment. “It’s all right. Go back to your room.”

Rory left, sobbing. Jane’s hands were shaking, and her pulse was loud in both ears.
Oh no,
she thought.
What happened to that girl? Is she dead? Why couldn’t Gaius bring her out?

“Jane,” Gaius said. “It’s your turn.”

Jane clenched her fists, and Manali patted her shoulder.

“You’ll do fine,” Manali murmured. “Really.”

At the edge of the lake, Gaius leaned close and whispered, “You don’t have to do this. You can turn around and go home. If you give up now, it will be easier for you—there will be no risk or danger.”

Jane stared at him. How could he say this now? After she’d come all this way?

“What are you talking about?” Jane said.

“You can quit,” he said softly, “and go home.”

Jane backed away from him. “No, I can’t. The Raven King hurt my grandmother,” her voice was shaking, “and my parents…Stop it.”

Jane stepped into the water—her shoe sank, and she pulled it back, closed her eyes.
I can do this. It’s not water; this isn’t the real world. I can do anything here—I am the granddaughter of Diana Starlight, and I’m not afraid of the Raven King or a stupid pond.

She walked across the lake. The surface rippled around Jane’s feet, as if her shoes were large stones someone had skipped. She kept walking closer to the arch. A fin—like a green shark fin—surfaced to her left, but she told herself to ignore it, to watch the arch.
Don’t look,
she thought,
don’t look at the shadows under the water. Don’t think about the girl who fell in. It was right about here,
wasn’t it? This is how far she got.
Jane’s footsteps slowed. Her legs were trembling.

I am not afraid,
she told herself.
I can do this.
But Jane had stopped walking. She was standing halfway between the shore and the arch—it wasn’t a tree.
What is that thing?
she wondered. Something splashed behind her. Another fin rippled on her right. Dark shapes—like organic submarines—crisscrossed underwater in front of her.
I’m standing on the water,
Jane thought.
This is impossible. I can’t be standing here.
The surface began to sag, as if she were on a bubble that was about to pop.
I’m going to fall in…!

“Come back!” Gaius shouted. “Jane!”

No.
She took another step. Heart pounding, she sucked a deep breath and kept going. A fin brushed her left shoe, but she didn’t look down. The arch was made of giant gray bones. It was the spine and neck of a skeletal dragon, its huge skull dipped into the water on her left, as if it were pausing for a drink. There was no sign of its arms or ribs. Finn was waiting on the other side.

“There she is!” he said, and he plucked Jane out of the water.

He dropped her carefully onto a small mudflat where the others who had walked across were waiting. Jane collapsed, and they rushed to congratulate her—all but Thomas. He stood by himself, watching the sky.

“Congratulations, Jane!” someone said.

“I knew you would make it!”

Thomas glanced at her. “I knew you would make it. I bet you were confident,” he said. “I bet Marie was too.”

A
bout forty of them made it across the water; Manali was the last one. After Finn carried them back to Castle Alsod, Gaius waved his staff: the marsh trees, vines, and mud banks faded back in, as if they’d been hidden behind fog. The rest of the kids had returned to their rooms, and as Gaius walked them to the back of the Castle, he said, “Some of you probably knew Marie. This is not a game. The next two tests will prove who has the ability to stop
him
. You all believe in yourselves. That’s good—that’s a start. But it isn’t enough. You cannot hurt the Raven King alone. No one can…”

Wait a second,
Jane thought.
I
did
hurt him, didn’t I? When he was disguised as a boy, I slapped him, and his lip was bleeding.

“Only the Name of the World can hurt him.”

Someone murmured, “Like a comic book bad guy or something…”

Gaius frowned. “In your stories, the good hero always wins by slaying the dragon.” Finn
harrumphed
and farted fire. “In reality,” Gaius continued, “the Raven King is alive and well. He may have been beaten in the past, but each time he is beaten, he comes back and takes revenge. He doesn’t shout or make threats, as villains do in stories. Instead he simply kills. He kills his enemies and their families and their children—everyone.”

Gaius stopped behind the castle, beside a steel door in the ground—like a cellar hatch with thick locks. “I know all about this,” Gaius said, “because I had a family once. Once upon a time, I was not the only bobbin in the world.” He smiled sadly. “This is real, children.” Gaius tapped the cellar door. “You cannot fight the Raven King without the Name of the World, and no one knows where the Name is now. Our champion must be perceptive. The second test is to find one of three keys and use it to unlock a golden door. Inside that door, you will find the third test. Only one of you will pass.”

Thomas asked, “What’s the third test?”

Gaius knocked on the door with his cane, and the locks unbolted. He said, “A trial by fire.” The cellar door opened; below, stone steps descended into blackness. “But first you must find the needle in the haystack.”

“The key in the basement, more like,” Manali whispered.

“All right,” Gaius said. “Everybody in.” They all went to the stairs in a line; Thomas was the first one down. “If you find yourself in danger,” Gaius said, “or you want to give up, call out my name, Gaius Saebius. Understand?” He patted Jane’s shoulder as she followed Manali down. There were deep grooves in the center of the steps, as if a thousand generations of people had walked down them. “Good luck.”