“It’s been forty years since I’ve seen Hoblkalf sospry,” said the preacher.
“What’s going on?” Cyrus asked Niels, “Who said anything about the Sea Zombie?”
He had never seen his brother look so worried and confused.
“I don’t know, Cyrus, but we’d better find out.”
Chapter 9
THE COUNTER ATTACK
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, on the LongBones farm, Hoblkalfwas giving orders and receiving intelligence from within a large, grey tentwith the letters, ‘HQ,’ stamped over the doorway. Several yards away, Cyruspeered in and saw the mayor poring over a map of Virkelot Village with buttons and thimbles representing variousfronts and positions on the island. A runner poked his head in through the doorflap.
“Sir, Niels LongBones is requestingyour counsel.”
The mayor looked up from his map, “One moment, Mr. Fod.”
Outside, Cyrus watched as Niels paced the ground; raking his fingersthrough his thick, grey hair. A large number of villagers had gathered on thefarm, eager to find out their roles in what Hoblkalfwas calling, the Hoblkalf War.
The mayor emerged from the tent in a plume of cigar smoke.
“Mr. Mayor,” Niels said, anger and frustration tainting his words.
He marched towards Hoblkalf. Two guardsintercepted him and pushed him back. The mayor coughed and hacked as he hobbledover to a stack of wooden crates. The masses murmured while two more guardshelped him up onto the makeshift podium. He raised his cane into the air to signalsilence. Then the old man took a long, slow pull from his cigar.
Cough, hack, eh-hem!
“My fellow citizens, thank you for being so patient in this our gravesthour. As most of you now know, Llysa LongBones is being held captive at the bottomof a pit. It seems the enemy has found a way around our blessed fence. I haveconsulted my staff and have come up with a rescue plan to save the widow LongBones.”
The mayor wiped beads of sweat from his liver-spotted forehead.
“It is my intention to build awooden crane over top of the pit and pull the captured woman out of enemyhands. The steam-powered ‘Hoblkalf Crane,’ as it will be named, will stand overseventy feet high and use over two hundred feet of cable. We will need every womanto collect rope and materials and take part in the cable’s fabrication, and wewill need every man, not given a task, to support the crane’s design andconstruction. It is an ambitious endeavor, but one the Sea Zombie will not beexpecting, and I am counting on all of you to make it a success. Does anyonehave any questions?”
“Mr. Mayor,” again Niels shouted.
“Good,” the mayor said, ignoring him, “There’s no time to lose, everyonereport to your staging areas. We have work to do.”
Hoblkalf receivedanother volley of praise and applause.
“We don’t have time for this,” Niels cried, “The Mayor’s going to getMom killed.”
It was worse than that. Cyrus thought of the journal. The mayor’s planwould cause an even larger cave-in. Could Cyrus trust his brother? If the mayorgot his way, would it matter? He made up his mind and crossed his fingers.
“Niels, there’s something I have to show you, but you have to keep it asecret.”
“What?” Niels replied.
“You can’t tell anyone. You promise?”
“Sure, I promise.”
Several minutes later in Cyrus’ bedroom, Cyrus pulled the turtleskeleton from under his bed, and the OddFoot journal frombeneath his mattress. He handed both to his brother. If the entire islandcollapsed because he had kept the truth a secret, he would not be able to livewith himself.
“What in Angels is this?” Niels asked, looking at the strange villagemodeled on the turtle’s shell.
He placed the skeleton on the bed and studied the journal for severalmoments. His expression turned from curious, to confused, to finally terrified.
“Is this real?” Niels asked, his eyes wide.
“I don’t know,” Cyrus said, “but it makes a lot of sense with thedrilling, the underground water, the earthquakesand now this cave-in.”
“Where did you find all this?” Niels asked, picking up the skeleton andinspecting its eye sockets.
“The OddFoot home,” Cyrus lied, “It’s been abandoned for years.”
“The book says that the crazy old fool crossed over the Dead Fence,”Niels said, “cursed his whole family.”
“He didn’t have any family left to curse,” Cyrus said.
“We have to show the Mayor.”
“No, wait,” Cyrus exclaimed, “You promised.”
He chased his brother out of the back door.
“Please,” Cyrus continued, “The Mayor will kill me if he finds out.”
“Don’t worry; I’ll tell him I’mthe one that found them.”
“Niels, no!”
Cyrus followed Niels down to the mayor’s tent pleading the entire way.
“I must speak with the Mayor immediately,” Niels demanded, running up tothe guard standing at the door.
“You can’t. You promised,” Cyrus begged.
“You will just have to be patient,” the guard said, “the Mayor isindisposed.”
“Send Mr. LongBones in,” the mayor’s voice orderedfrom inside the tent.
Niels shouldered past the guard and ducked into the tent with Cyrusclose on his heels.
“Cyrus StrangeBones,” the guard muttered asCyrus entered the HQ.
The tent’s canvas walls smelled sour, like damp clothes left in a pile. Hoblkalf was sitting at his desk, talking to a member ofhis staff.
“And what can I do for you, Mr. LongBones?”the mayor asked, exhaling a nose-full of smoke.
Niels moved to the front of the desk, holding the book and turtle behindhis back.
“Mayor Hoblkalf, first off, we’re grateful forall the work you are doing to save our Mother.”
The mayor nodded smugly, patting his plump belly as he leaned back inhis chair.
“But is all this really necessary?We said nothing about the Sea Zombie beinginvolved. The ground simply isn’t stable. I think the drill weakened theearth and it gave way. We don’t have time to build a giant crane, but even ifwe did, the land around that hole won’tsupport that kind of weight. It’s suicide.”
The mayor frowned.
“May we have some privacy, Mr. BackWood?” heasked his aide.
The man nodded and exited the tent, leaving Hoblkalf,Niels, and Cyrus alone.
“What in Kingdom are you talkingabout, boy?” the mayor barked.
“I think this whole village sits on top of a giant, underground lake,”Cyrus said, “I mean, where does all the water come from? I think the earth’s extremely unstable.”
“Don’t be stupid, boy,” growled the mayor, “Underground lake? This was obviously
