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11

LEFT BEHIND

Beams of light surrounded them, shining brighter and brighter until Kale had to close her eyes and duck her head. Strong winds rushed through the room. Kale put her arm around the meech and pulled him to the floor. She crouched there with Regidor and Toopka.

“Now this is more like it!” shouted Fenworth. “First, off to rescue the doneel, and then on to the caves. Spiders, beware!”

One after another, smells rose around them and then blew away. A flower garden, a bakery, piney woods, and apple cider vinegar.

Fenworth sounded very close. “Did that doneel fellow say he was east or west of The Bogs?”

Kale tried to yell “west,” but a rush of wind filled her mouth and stifled her shout.

“West, you say, Kale? I believe you’re right. West makes sense. Thank you, my girl. Be good now. We shan’t be long.”

Librettowit wheezed near her ear. “Let go of me, you confounded wizard.”

Fenworth didn’t answer him, but a trumpet blew the quick notes of a charge, and the wizard’s voice rose above the quacks and brays and oinks of barnyard animals. “Prepare for battle, Bardon!”

“Yes sir,” the lehman answered.

His voice sounded muffled. Kale felt as though she was floating in a vast empty space but knew better than to open her eyes. The light still turned her eyelids blood red with its brilliance.

The light began to fade. The force of the wind eased. Normal swamp noises filled the night air. Kale opened her eyes, expecting to be in a field just outside The Bogs.

Beneath her knees, broad planks formed a solid floor. Her body curved over the huddled figures of Toopka and Regidor. She patted their backs and straightened up.

“It’s all right now,” Kale said, but she glared at her surroundings.

Flames crackled in the fireplace. Bardon’s book lay open on the floor. Librettowit’s mug still sat on the kitchen table. The wizard’s hat was gone from the hook by the door, and so were the three men—Bardon, Librettowit, and Fenworth.

“We’ve been left behind,” said Regidor.

“No!” hollered Toopka. She scrambled onto the windowsill to peer out as if she could see Wizard Fenworth departing with Librettowit and Bardon. “No, no, no! This is my first adventure. Kale, do something!”

“What?”

“Take us there. You’re a wizard.”

“I’m a wizard without any training. I can’t take us anywhere.”

Regidor pounded a fist in the palm of his other hand. “Then we’ll walk. If Dar could walk in, we can walk out.”

“Through The Bogs?” Kale’s voice squeaked. “At night? With mordakleeps attacking?”

“I’m not afraid of mordakleeps,” said Regidor, planting his fists on his hips.

“Me either.” Toopka jumped down to stand beside her friend, mimicking his stance and his obstinate glare. “You chop off their tails, and they die. I’m not afraid.”

“Listen to me.” Kale stood and faced the two children. “Mordakleeps are dangerous. They don’t let you chop off their tails. They try to surround you and cut you off from everything. They’re fierce and fast and deadly.”

Regidor ran to the kitchen and grabbed a meat cleaver. Toopka followed and soon waved a paring knife in front of her tiny figure.

“We’ll go without you,” she said.

“No, you won’t.”

Kale brought images to her mind that she suppressed at all other times. Mordakleeps had attacked while she was traveling with Dar and Leetu Bends. She projected to these would-be child warriors the images of dark, oozing creatures looming out of the trees.

Kale remembered black shadows rippling and becoming hideous monsters. Their bloblike heads silently wagged back and forth. As the mass of dreadful shadows became more distinct, she saw that each mordakleep had two thick legs and a thin tail disappearing through the leaf floor of cygnot planking.

The mordakleeps trudged silently toward their victims. Small red eyes glared from gray hollows. Grotesque mouths chomped, and green tongues flicked over sharp, yellow teeth and thin lips.

The mordakleeps’ great weight made the cygnot planking undulate like waves on an ocean. Kale waited for a monster to