A Place Beyond The Map Page 12

  At times I must rest, yet he travels beyond.

  Yes, I can be faster, and sometimes much stronger;

  But he stretches further, his course, much longer.

  Down mountains and through valleys, we travel together;

  With him I remain, or else, I would smother.”

  If there is one thing that is bad for thinking, it is being frightened; and Phinnegan was certainly frightened. He considered anything and everything that had a home: snails, hermit crabs, turtles. Yet none of these even mildly matched the rhymes of the riddle.

  He felt the eyes of the troll upon him, sitting there only a few feet away. He glanced up quickly, only to see her smile widening at each passing moment as he struggled with this riddle. Something about the words of the riddle tugged at his brain, like they had a certain meaning, almost as if she had given him a hint.

  But Phinnegan Qwyk did not catch this hint, for his mind hit wall after wall and tears filled his big brown eyes. He had not the slightest idea what the answer to this riddle could be. Turning his back to the troll, he looked to Periwinkle and Crimson, not knowing how they could help him given the rules of this game. From the look on each of their faces, he knew that they both had solved the riddle.

  Instead of giving him hope, this only gave him despair. He should know the answer! As he looked at Periwinkle, the purple-haired Faë shook his head slowly, and Phinnegan thought it was in disgust at how stupid he was, but something in his manner caught his attention.

  No, he wasn’t disgusted at all; the Faë was trying to help him!

  What Phinnegan had at first mistaken for a shake, was more of a nod, in a particular direction. Phinnegan peeked over his shoulder to see if the troll was watching, but her eyes searched the skies while she swayed back and forth on her rock. He returned his gaze to Periwinkle. The nod became more insistent, and then his eyes rolled in the same direction. Phinnegan followed the signs with his own eyes and saw that the Faë was pointing him in the direction of the river.

  Phinnegan’s frown deepened. Did the Faë want him to escape? To swim? He mouthed the words, but Periwinkle grimaced and shook his head forcefully. No, definitely not escape.

  And then Phinnegan remembered that the Faë had found the answer to his own riddle in the river, when he looked down and saw his reflection and the idea of a mirror struck him. Perhaps he thought the river could help Phinnegan as well, although the answer was most certainly not a mirror. But, perhaps, the Faë knew what he was doing. He did, after all, seem to know the answer.

  Phinnegan walked towards the edge of the river. His movement must have drawn the eyes of the troll, for her voice rang out and sent a shiver down his spine.

  “Don’t wander too far, little one. Time is running out and I want my prize to be close at hand.”

  He had no response that he could make, so Phinnegan ignored the troll and knelt at the water’s edge. He looked down into the river and there saw his reflection. What a mess he was, his hair tousled and his cheeks pale. He looked as ill as he felt. He dipped his hand into the water, which was not too cool and not too warm. He splashed the water on his face, washing away the grime and dust that had built-up during his travels. The water was remarkably clear and Phinnegan could see that the bank sloped steeply so that the bottom was out of sight in mere feet.

  He looked out to the middle of the river, which was not too far for it was no more than twenty-five yards wide. Something swam along in the middle of the river, and Phinnegan squinted to find that it was a great black snake. Probably harmless, but he was glad that it was in the river and not on the bank.

  A flash of movement caught his eye and he looked down to the water just in front of him. He saw nothing at first, but then another flash and another. Soon his eyes focused on a spry little fish, darting this way and that, his silver scales glinting in the sunlight that penetrated the surface of the water. So happy this little fish must be, Phinnegan thought. Safe in the water, away from the troll and this stupid game. If only he could be a fish, swimming with current down the river, away from this place.

  Fish. River.

  He spun his head to look at Periwinkle, who offered a sly smile and a wink. Phinnegan leapt from his place beside the river, making himself more than a bit dizzy in the process, not that he cared.

  “I know the answer!” he shouted, running past the two Faë and stopping in front of the troll, who regarded him warily.

  “Oh? Are you sure? One guess is all you get.” But Phinnegan was not cowed by her attempt to unnerve him.

  “One is all I need. It’s a fish! A fish and his home is the water, the river.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest and beamed a smile.

  The troll, however, did not smile.

  “Came up with that answer on your own, did you?”

  Phinnegan’s smile began to falter, but Periwinkle quickly came to his rescue.

  “Of course he did. How else was he supposed to come up with it?” Periwinkle said, but the troll regarded him coolly.

  “I asked the boy the question, and as to how else, you could have helped him.”

  Periwinkle only smiled.

  “But, my dear, how could I when by the rules you have put into play I, and my friend here,” and he pointed to Crimson, “are as mute as a mouse. I could not have told him had I tried to bellow and scream. Which I didn’t, of course.”

  The troll remained unconvinced.

  “Speaking isn’t the only way that one can help.” She sighed, running her hands through her lustrous red hair. “But I suppose it does not matter greatly. I only have to answer his riddle correctly and we can move on.”

  “But…but then we would be tied. What happens if we tie?” Phinnegan asked, his curiosity emboldened by answering the riddle correctly, even if he had been helped a little.

  “Why, we fight to the death, of course.”

  Phinnegan’s eyes widened and his mouth fell agape.

  “To…to the death?” He looked to Periwinkle who shrugged before patting Phinnegan on the back.

  “Make sure it’s a good one, eh?”

  Phinnegan swallowed. All eyes were on him and he had no way out this time. Neither Periwinkle nor Crimson could help him, and the troll had finished her turn, so it was left to him. He was too young to have heard many riddles, and too young still to craft them all on his own. He racked his brain for anything he had heard in his twelve short years and he found little. Stupid jokes and nursery rhymes were all that came to him.

  There was, however, one exception. A little rhyme he had learned as a child that his mother had taught him. He had always found the story quite strange and thought that the rhyme would be easy for this troll. Still, he had no other option.

  “There was a man of Adam's race;

  He had a certain dwelling-place;

  He wasn't in earth, heaven or hell,

  Tell me where that man did dwell.”

  Phinnegan expected the troll to give the answer right away. But she did not. Nor did Periwinkle or Crimson appear to know the answer right away for they looked at each other and then at Phinnegan, both with a blank look.

  The moments passed in silence and Phinnegan first chewed his fingernails, only to stop and then find himself chewing his lip. His mother always made him stop that, saying it was uncomely in a boy about to become a young man to display such nervousness. But he could not help it, for it was not a stretch to say that his life hung in the balance.

  Phinnegan was content to let the troll have as long as she needed to try and answer the question. But Periwinkle was not.

  “My lady, have you an answer to Phinnegan’s question?”

  The troll scowled and flung her hair over her shoulder. She glared at the two Faë and then at Phinnegan before speaking.

  “More time, please.”

  “I believe the lady has already had enough time, wouldn’t you say Crimson?” Periwinkle saw the advantage that they now held, and Crimson played right along.

  “Just so, dear
lady, for Phinnegan took no more time than you have already taken before he answered your riddle. It is only fair, after all.

  “I said I need more TIME!”

  With the last word, the troll’s voice changed from sweet and lilting to a vicious growl. Phinnegan was not about to push her, and neither, it seemed, was Periwinkle.

  “As the lady wishes,” he said, bowing slightly and doffing his great black hat.

  But the extra time did the troll no good, for many more minutes passed and she finally threw up her hands.

  “Do you give up, then?” Periwinkle asked, his voice carrying a tinge of awe that the young boy could have stumped the aged and wise troll. For her part, too angry to speak, she could only nod. Periwinkle and Crimson each yelped for joy and both clapped Phinnegan on the back.

  “Well done!”

  “Well done? It was bloody brilliant!”

  Phinnegan’s broad smile returned as his two friends complemented his riddle. But their celebration was interrupted by the troll.

  “Well? What was the answer?”

  “It’s uh, well he lived in a whale?” Phinnegan stammered. The troll’s eyes widened with shock.

  “A whale?!? Who has ever dwelled in a whale? What trickery is this?” She bolted to her feet and the air seemed to tingle as she spoke.

  “J-J-Jonah dwelt in a whale.”

  “Who?!?

  “Jonah. It’s in the Bible?”

  “The – Oh this rubbish! You can’t ask riddles about things in your world. That’s not fair! CHEATER!”

  Before Phinnegan or the two Faë knew what had happened, the troll had swung out her arm and they were all thrown back by an unseen force that knocked the breath from their lungs. Phinnegan struggled to regain his breath, even as he heard the troll screaming above him.

  “You dare to cheat ME of what is rightly mine by asking an unfair riddle? I will have your heads for this, all of them!”

  Above them, Phinnegan could sense the sky getting darker and a howling wind that had not been there only moments before. She’s going to kill me.

  She’s going to cast some terrible spell and kill us all.

  But just as he braced for the awful to happen, silence broke in upon the raging wind. And then that silence was quickly broken by the screams of the troll.

  “Unbind me! This is not FAIR!”

  She continued to shriek and Phinnegan pushed himself up to find her standing not five feet away, frozen. Behind her, the bogle stood at the door beneath the bridge, his hand on the latch.

  “Well brother,” Periwinkle said, as he pulled Crimson to his feet. “It looks as though your bogle has claimed our prize. Come on, mate.” The purple-haired Faë grabbed Phinnegan’s arm and pulled him quickly to his feet.

  Together, the two Faë and Phinnegan ran past the screaming troll, who remained bound by unseen hands. Her threats rang out even as they disappeared into the door beneath the bridge, like rabbits down a hole.

  CHAPTER 14

  The Plan Revealed

  When the door slammed shut behind them, Phinnegan and his party were greeted by a profound silence. The screaming of the trollish woman, which had continued to crescendo, was now gone.

  It was also dark, but some unknown source gave off enough light that Phinnegan could make out a low ceiling only a hand or so above the top of his head, and craggy rock walls not far to either side. The floor, too, was uneven and rocky. Now that he thought about it, it looked exactly like what you would expect to find on the other side of a door cut into the wall beneath a bridge: like a tunnel.

  His eyes involuntarily squinted when each of the two Faë produced their glow globes with a flurry of wrists, bathing the rocky walls in bright, white light.

  “Where are we?” Phinnegan asked, his eyes adjusting to the new light source. The bogle grumbled, but Crimson spoke up in answer.

  “We,” he said as he doused his own globe in favor of Periwinkle’s, “are in the caverns. They’re a pathway of tunnels and shafts that run beneath the ground and serve as a quick means of transportation.”

  “But I thought you Faë could just snap your fingers or cast a spell, what have you, and be where you want? Or use the wishing stone?”

  “Well,” Crimson said, furrowing his brow as he sought to explain. “We can use the stones to travel, yes this is true, but it is not always the best way. And there are some places, like where we are going now, that you cannot reach by using a stone. Ironically.”

  “What’s ironic?” Phinnegan asked.

  “Oh, you’ll see when we get there.”

  “Which is where again?”

  “Castle Heronhawk,” the two Faë replied in unison.

  “And we get to this castle through these tunnels, the caverns?”

  “Yes, the only other ways to get there are not accessible to us. It’s not a place we are often welcome.”

  “Why not?” Phinnegan saw the quick glance between the two Faë before Periwinkle deigned to answer.

  “Giants don’t normally like Faë.”

  “Giants?! We’re going to a castle full of giants?” Phinnegan blurted, quite incredulous at the idea.

  “Walk and talk, brothers, walk and talk,” Crimson said as he started along the rocky path down the hall. Periwinkle followed, but spoke over his shoulder to address Phinnegan’s question.

  “Hardly full, only a few live there year round. Wouldn’t you say Crimson?” The red-haired Faë nodded in ascent before Periwinkle continued. “Very selective bunch they are, sticking to themselves and not socializing with the ‘wee folk’ as we and any other creature that is not as tall as a tree is called. But they do open their doors once or twice a year for a festival. It is then that we are welcome there, for we have many crafts that they cannot replicate. They’re not particularly good with clocks, for one.”

  “So is there a festival going on now, then?”

  “Yes, a rather large one. Bigger than normal even.” Periwinkle jerked his thumb in the direction of the bogle. “That’s what he was showing us in the book. Only happens every half century or so, which really isn’t that long for us longevity speaking, but it is quite awhile to wait!

  “And why are we going there again? This doesn’t seem like a good time to celebrate. I thought you said you had a way to get me home?”

  “We do, mate, we do. And it just so happens that this way lies in yonder castle, and that the only way we could ever have access to said way is by getting into the castle, which can only happen during a festival, which just so happens to be going on right this very minute. Follow?”

  Phinnegan’s brow crinkled as he listened, but he nodded that he had indeed followed.

  “Good then,” Periwinkle said.” I’m glad we’re umm, what is it you say? On the same page? Right, on the same page.” He nodded to himself in satisfaction at remembering the saying.

  Up ahead, Crimson disappeared from view and it was not until they had gone a few more steps that Phinnegan realized that he had turned down a hallway that led off the main tunnel to the right. He followed Periwinkle down this same hallway and noticed that while the ceiling height was the same, it was much narrower than the main hall. The two Faë and Phinnegan could barely walk the path without their shoulders scraping the walls.

  Phinnegan went over the Faë’s explanation for their journey in his mind. Something did not sit right. These giants, who evidently did not like the Faë very much at all, would suddenly be willing to help them send a boy, who was a human and Phinnegan guessed perhaps liked even less, home?

  He was so deep in thought that he almost missed the left turn the two Faë ahead had made, and likely would have if the bogle hadn’t grunted and intruded upon his thoughts. He slipped into a wide hallway, more like the first. Another quick right and the hallway became narrower again.

  “So wait a minute. I’m to believe that these giants will help me? Why would they do that? What can they do?” This time it was Crimson who responded.

  “It’s not so much
what they can do, but what they have that is of interest to us.”

  “What do they have?”

  “Blimey! You ask a lot of questions don’t you?” Crimson remarked as he led them on down the hallway.

  “That he does.” Periwinkle looked over his shoulder and gave Phinnegan a quick wink. “An inquisitive fellow he is.”

  “Well can you explain it to him? I’m trying to remember which way to go.” Crimson took a long look at an opening to the right before continuing forward.

  “No problem, mate. Well you see Phinnegan, the giants have quite a bit of…items, that they have amassed over their centuries in existence, and it just so happens that one of those items is particularly valuable, and, we believe, is an item that can get you home.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well I haven’t seen it myself, but the stories are that it is a wishing stone of immense size, as big as a fist, with a similar boost to all of its properties. Meaning, that it is our guess that such a stone would have enough power to send you home.”

  “And you think that they would let you use it so send me home?”

  “Hang on a minute,” Crimson said as he halted the progress of the group. “This is not right. I knew we should have taken that right back there.”

  The bogle interjected with some harsh utterances in his outlandish dialect which Phinnegan could not understand, but seemed to ruffle the ego of Crimson.

  “Well I’m not a bloody guide, am I? I’d like to see one of you lot get us there.”

  The bogle responded with another short utterance and a gurgling sound that Phinnegan took for a chuckle.

  “Oh, bugger off.” Crimson turned around and marched back down the hallway in the direction that they had just come. “This way, I know where we are now.”

  The group turned and followed Crimson back to the opening in the wall that he had considered before, this time taking it and after a few moments entering a more cavern like environment, with walls further apart and a ceiling several times their height.

  “This stone, then? They will let us use it?” Phinnegan asked, breaking the silence.