Sometimes, when Jack had cast his mind down to the life force, he had felt, among the roots and burrowing creatures, other presences he could barely comprehend. This was one of them. Jack suspected they might want to listen to music for a very long time.
Pega reached the end of a song, and Jack knelt before the yarthkin and said, “She is but mortal, spirit of the earth. She wishes to obey you, but her strength is small.”
The creature observed Jack with its bright eyes, and a twittering rustle passed over the walls of the tunnel.
“I’ll sing,” Jack said. “My voice may not be what you’re asking for, but Pega can’t go on forever.”
“Forever is what these creatures are about,” the Nemesis muttered.
Jack cast his mind back to all the Bard had taught him about animals, men, trolls, and elves, but he found nothing about yarthkins. Then, unbidden, he saw an image of his mother. In early spring, when the soil was warm enough to plow and the sky had turned from gray to blue, she walked in the fields. And as she walked, she sang:
As he chanted, Jack saw his mother in his mind, bending over each furrow, praising it and planting it with seed. The charm was long, and he repeated it nine times. When he had finished, he looked up to see a whole host of yarthkins. They had all dropped out of the walls. To Jack, they looked like a mass of little haystacks, and his heart leaped to his throat. What had he done? One yarthkin had been difficult to entertain. What was he going to do with hundreds?
But the first creature, who stood apart from the rest, spoke:
“Best not to answer,” whispered the Nemesis. But Jack thought that would be ungracious. Besides, he liked the little haystacks, strange though they were.
“We were but thanking you for the kindness you have shown my mother’s fields. We ask your permission to travel on to Din Guardi.”
A twittering hiss blew through the gathering, like the wind rattling ripe wheat.
“It is nasty,” Jack agreed, “but, you see, my father’s there, and the Bard, my master. I’ve got to make sure they’re all right. Don’t worry, we’ll leave as soon as possible.”
The yarthkins conferred among themselves with many a sigh and hiss and a vague rumble like thunder in the distance. Jack wasn’t happy about the thunder. It sounded like anger. Finally, the chief yarthkin replied:
“Thank you,” Jack said uncertainly. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be remembered. The yarthkins crept back to the walls and fitted themselves in. It was difficult to see how they managed this without using hands or feet, but they did. Soon they were all tucked into their beds, as snug as peas. The straw-colored hair faded into the wall until it became a collection of brown lumps again.
“I think we should go now,” said the Bugaboo, and Jack was surprised to see he’d turned bright green with alarm. It was the first time he’d seen the hobgoblin king afraid, and it made him realize that the little haystacks weren’t quite as harmless as they looked.
Chapter Forty-three
THE KELPIES
The tunnel changed abruptly from brown dirt and glowing mushrooms to a harsher landscape of rock. The air had a cold mineral smell, and water dripped from the roof. Jack relit Thorgil’s torch.
“Let me take that,” said the Nemesis. Thorgil reluctantly handed it over. It was but another reminder that she had only one useful hand and couldn’t protect the flame. She fell back to walk with Father Severus, who was looking surprisingly vigorous.
“I don’t know what happened,” he said, wondering. “I’m feeling extremely well, like a man half my age. Perhaps I only needed time to recover.” But Jack thought, privately, that the water in the land of the yarthkins had something to do with it. He felt immensely better since drinking it. The depressing apathy of Elfland had lifted, taking with it the sorrow over Lucy.
Everyone looked happier, even Thorgil. Ethne, of course, was always radiant, finding each new experience fascinating, no matter how disturbing it was to the others. “Those yarthkins are so cute,” she gushed. “I could just cuddle them!”
“Never,
The Nemesis walked ahead, waving the torch back and forth to avoid drips. “We’re near the sea,” he called. “Can you feel the waves?”
Jack noticed for the first time a tremor passing through the rocks. A cold breeze stirred and brought whiffs of seaweed and salt. “What’s that noise?” he said. Everyone stopped. From far away came a mournful howl.
“That’s not Jenny Greenteeth, is it?” said Pega.
“Wraiths are quieter,” the Bugaboo explained, “more like heavy breathing in your ear.”
“Bedbugs! Just what I wanted to know,” said Pega, leaning closer to Jack.
As they went on, the howls became louder. It was clearly the voices of many beings. Some cries were high and screechy. Others were deep like the bellow of a bull. “I’ve heard that before,” the Bugaboo remarked. “Was it wyverns? Or manticores? Ah! I have it! Kelpies.”
The Nemesis halted, making everyone bump into one another. “Kelpies! I’m not going a step farther!”
“They’re far out to sea, old friend,” the Bugaboo said.
“You don’t know anything. They could be waiting for us.”
“I’m quite sure they’re not. You see—”
“Look, I’m willing to follow you anywhere. You’re my king. I’m the one our people chose to protect you from your stupidity. Besides, they like you.
“I know you like me,” the Bugaboo said, grasping his friend’s hand. “It’s the worst-kept secret in the world.
