The Land of the Silver Apples

Pega ran back. “What do we have to do? How can we break the spell that keeps the old gods out?”

Spell? said the head yarthkin. There is no spell.

“We were told about it,” said Jack. “The Man in the Moon did something bad. I don’t know what it was, but he was exiled to the moon, and the rest of you were forbidden to enter his fortress.”

The Man in the Moon wished to rule the green world, said the yarthkin in his whispery, twittering voice. He would have slain all to gain power, and to this end, he made an ally of Unlife. It was we who exiled him. But we have not been able to undo his harm. It is Unlife that keeps us out.

“I don’t know how to help you,” Jack cried. “The Bard might, but I can’t get to him.”

Thou hast the means, said the yarthkin, and his thousands upon thousands of followers rustled their agreement. Thy staff drew fire from the heart of Jotunheim. It is a branch of the Great Tree.

“Yggdrassil?” Jack was bewildered. He knew his staff was more than a mere piece of wood, but this? How could he have owned such a thing of power and not known it? And why hadn’t the Bard told him?

Lay thy staff across the ring of Unlife that we may pass over.

Jack paused for a moment. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what was going to happen, and he wanted to keep the talisman he’d unwittingly brought from Jotunheim. It was black as coal but hard as flint. He hadn’t used it much, not nearly enough. He didn’t really understand it, although once he’d called up an earthquake with it.

“Jack. Remember the hobgoblins,” said Pega.

The boy shook himself. Of course. Even now, King Yffi’s men might be dragging the Bugaboo and the Nemesis to the fire. He raised the staff and felt the familiar thrum of life within it. Then he laid it across the barrier.

Chapter Forty-seven THE LAST OF DIN GUARDI

The head yarthkin advanced, pulling himself along by his long, brown fingers. He touched the staff, and Jack held his breath.

The air chimed like a bell. It was as though the sky itself were trembling. The earth answered with a faint thunder. A light as pure as a spring dawn spread over the sea. It flowed up the grim walls of Din Guardi and down into the tunnel. The breeze carried a fragrance that was something like a meadow after a thunderstorm, but much cleaner and fresher.

Green. That was the word for it. The air smelled green, and it made Jack glad to breathe it.

He looked down. The staff that he had won in Jotunheim, the staff that told the world that he, Jack, was a true bard and the heir to Dragon Tongue, had dissolved into ash. Even as he watched, the silvery dust was lifted by the breeze and blown away.

“Here they come!” shouted Thorgil. The yarthkins flowed over the broken barrier in a vast tide. Rustling and whispering, they swarmed past the children. Jack, Thorgil, and Pega clung to one another, scarcely daring to breathe as wave after wave of wheat-colored haystacks surged past them.

This time the dreams they stirred were good, the kind that Jack wanted to remember and that usually melted away when he awoke. He guessed that the yarthkins had been angry before because Thorgil had threatened them with a knife. Now they were joyful. “You’re laughing!” he told Thorgil in surprise.

“You are too,” cried the shield maiden, beaming with joy.

“We all are. Oh, isn’t this wonderful?” said Pega. “It’s like the day I learned to bake bread or when I saw violets for the first time. Or, or—it’s like the day you freed me, Jack, the best day of my life!” Pega threw her arms around him and kissed him.

Jack was startled but pleased, and he kissed her back. Then he kissed Thorgil. They all clung together, transported by delight in the sea, the sky, the earth, and one another.

The yarthkins passed them by and disappeared under Din Guardi. The mad joy that had possessed Jack, Thorgil, and Pega vanished. They glanced at one another with extreme embarrassment. Jack couldn’t imagine what had possessed him, kissing both girls. And Thorgil giggling. They must have all gone insane.

“The clouds have lifted,” said Pega, breaking the awkward silence. It was true. The gray mantle that had blocked out the sun was blowing away, and blue sky peeped out behind it. A wave crashed against the shore, sending spray over the three.

“Looks like the sea isn’t kept out anymore,” said Thorgil. “We’d better run. The tide’s coming in, and unless I’m mistaken, it’s going to flood the tunnel.”

“I don’t know if I can face that cold again,” said Pega.

“It’s either that or drown.”

Jack looked up. The sides of Din Guardi were no longer coated in the pearly light that had come over the sea, and the sun was setting. But the darkening rocks were softened by a glorious full moon rising with the sunset. If stones could be said to look happy, these were happy. Although they’re still too steep to climb, Jack thought resentfully as he followed Thorgil and Pega.

They had a welcome surprise. Nothing was as it had been. Walls were coated with fluttering moss, and the tunnel was lined with the same glowing mushrooms they had encountered before. Not only that, the floor was soft and the air smelled wonderful.

Summer had been let into Din Guardi. No trace of the deadly cold remained. “landv?ttir are indeed powerful, if they can drive away Hel,” said Thorgil.

When they came to the upper reaches, where the dungeons lay, they found all the doors open. No one was inside, although some of the manacles looked as though they had once been attached to an arm or a leg. “Do you think kelpies ate them?” whispered Pega.

Jack doubted it. The doors had been too securely locked. He didn’t like the slime trails he saw going up the walls or the way his feet stuck to the floor. Knuckers, he thought, but didn’t say it aloud.

The door to the courtyard was open, with a red glow coming from the fire pit and torches blazing along the sides. A black spit was silhouetted against the flames. “I can’t look. Are they—” Pega hid her face.

“They’re all right.” Jack saw the Bugaboo and the Nemesis with Father Severus and Ethne. And one more person he never expected to meet. “Brutus!” he cried.

“Welcome to Din Guardi! Or as my ancestor Lancelot called it, Joyous Garde. It’s been a while since there was any joy around here.” Brutus grinned infuriatingly. He was still dressed in the golden tunic with the scarlet cape that the Lady of the Lake had given him. The great sword Anredden still hung from that diamond-studded belt.

Pega ran to the Bugaboo and hugged him. “I was so afraid! I thought you were—”

“We’re right as rain, dearest. Only the better for seeing you.” The Bugaboo planted a noisy kiss on top of her head.

“Brutus, why weren’t you here earlier? Why didn’t you help us?” shouted Jack, longing to wipe the silly grin off the man’s face.

“Couldn’t, I’m afraid. Old Yffi tossed me into the dungeon as soon as he saw me. Took away my sword, too, but these chaps got it back.”

Jack looked around to see that the shadows were full of many, many dark lumps whose eyes glinted in the light of the torches. “Yarthkins?”

“Mother used to talk to them all the time. Fine fellows as long as you don’t get on their wrong side.” Brutus signaled, and a very frightened, very repentant Ratface scurried out with a glass of wine.

“I don’t think you even know how to use a sword,” said Thorgil, torn between scorn and laughter.

“That’s not how we Lancelots win battles,” said Brutus, winking. “Anyhow, we were waiting for you to show up so they can finish the job.” He nodded at the silently watching haystacks. They looked as though they might be settled down for a very long time, perhaps centuries.