The Nexus Ring Read online

  Even though I was scared and confused, I stood for a moment in awe at the beauty of it. I longed to paint it, to try to capture all the colours of the rocks. I looked carefully, trying to memorize the details. I wanted to draw and paint everything as soon as we got home. If we got ­home.

  We found our torch at the bottom of the cliff. The tip had broken off, and the fire gone out, so now we had no protection from Aleena. And I didn’t think the troll was going to stay at the top of the cliff hoping we’d come back. We had to find a doorway ­quickly.

  “Remember last year, Maddy, when we stopped near here and Dad explained about the Spiral Tunnels?”

  Maddy shrugged. “I just remember being disappointed because there was no train.”

  I grabbed a stick and drew a long line, from west to east. “This is the railway line from Vancouver to Calgary.” Then I drew a figure eight, pointing north. “The track makes a figure eight pattern, curving first through that mountain,” I pointed to our right, “that’s north of the rail line, then across the valley to the mountain on the south side,” I pointed to the left, “where it curves through another tunnel. And all along the way, the track gets higher and higher.”

  “But why?” asked ­Maddy.

  “The mountain pass is really, really steep. This is a train’s way of zigzagging up a hill too steep to run straight up.” I scanned the mountain across from us. “There must be tunnel openings in this world,” I said, trying to guess where they might be. Then I spotted ­one.

  “Maddy, see that dark hole?” I pointed across the valley. “That’s the entrance to one of the spiral tunnels. The other end is…” I scanned the mountainside, “there, higher up the slope. And there’s another tunnel on this side of the valley, in the mountain behind us.”

  We turned and searched. I knew roughly where the openings had to be, but could we find ­one?

  “Do you really think we can find a doorway in one of the tunnels?” Maddy ­asked.

  “We’d better – before the troll or Aleena catch us!”

  We headed up the mountainside, scrambling through the trees, searching for the nearest tunnel opening. I kept watching for the troll and ­Aleena.

  Maddy found the tunnel. She was climbing a bit to the left of me, and walked around a tree growing right in front of it. The opening was tall, round and smooth. We groped our way inside, panting from the climb, and tried to guess where a doorway might be. All I could see of Maddy were huge eyes, white in the darkness, and a bit of light gleaming on the gold in her ­hair.

  “Hold out the ring,” I said. I touched it with one finger. “Let’s do what Aleena did – close your eyes, take a deep breath, then exhale.”

  I closed both eyes, sucked in a big breath, and tried to imagine mist forming as I blew out. I couldn’t feel any mist; I just felt stupid. I opened my eyes to see Maddy puffing her cheeks, then blowing out in a great whoosh. Rock dust rose from the walls of the tunnel and choked us. That was as misty as it ­got.

  “We have to find the doorway,” I said. “The troll could be here any moment.”

  “And he is,” a voice ­growled.

  Maddy screeched and grabbed my hand. We heard footsteps, then watched a shadow emerging from deep in the ­tunnel.

  “And now,” said the troll, “it’s time to give me my ring!” He was bellowing as he ­finished.

  “We’re not going to give it to you,” I said, trying to sound brave as I pushed Maddy behind me towards the entrance. “And once we’re outside in the sun, you can’t come near us.”

  And then a shadow blocked the entrance to the tunnel, a tall, lean shadow, and Aleena’s voice called out, “The sun doesn’t bother me.”

  Maddy moaned and leaned against me. “How could she find us?”

  “I followed your scent through water,” she sneered. “I knew the moment you stepped into the lake. It just took a while to track you here.”

  Aleena stepped towards us, while the troll screamed from the shadows, “It’s my ring. Don’t give it to her, give it to me!”

  Stomach churning, I tried to come up with a plan. If we could get outside, the troll couldn’t follow us, not into sunshine. Then even that hope was snatched away, as the sunlight outside the tunnel vanished behind a ­cloud.

  I could feel Maddy moving behind me. Her hand rose, and something flew from it, high into the air, over Aleena’s head. I heard it ping off the roof of the tunnel, then bounce into the shade just outside the ­entrance.

  “What was that?” I asked. “Was it the ring?” I could hear panic in my voice. The troll and Aleena heard it ­too.

  “Yes, I threw the ring,” Maddy said, with a voice full of determination. “You can have it! All it does is cause trouble.”

  Aleena spun around and raced outside. The troll roared past, slamming us against the tunnel wall. He slid to a halt at the entrance of the tunnel, then stepped out into the shade of a dark ­cloud.

  Quietly, Maddy and I followed them out of the tunnel, then slipped off to one side. The troll and Aleena searched the ground frantically, both on hands and knees. Maddy and I crept a little further away. Aleena leapt, as she spotted something lying in the grass. The troll was just a step behind. Aleena reached out, closing her hand over it, and the troll’s hand closed over Aleena’s.

  Just at that moment, a single ray of sunshine shone through the clouds and touched the troll’s hand. He stared in horror as his hand turned to grey stone. The greyness crept up his arm, then down his body and up to his head. Within moments, the troll was a stone ­statue.

  Aleena screamed in rage, her hand caught in his fist of stone. “Look what you’ve done,” she cried. “Help me!”

  “Josh,” Maddy said. When I turned to her, she opened her hand, showing me the ring nestled in her ­palm.

  “But what did you throw?” I asked, ­astonished.

  “The useless piece of junk ­pop-­can ring in my pocket,” she said, with a mischievous ­smile.

  “Maddy!” I grabbed her and spun her around. “You’re brilliant! We’re safe for twelve hours!”

  Aleena screamed at us, her face distorted. “You’ll never get away with this.”

  Maddy smiled as she slipped the ring onto her finger. “Let’s get out of here.”

  As we turned our backs, Aleena yelled after us, “Only magic folk can cross the veil. You need me, and I won’t help until I get that ring!”

  Chapter Seven

  The Otter- People

  Maddy and I were so pleased with ourselves, we raced downhill in great leaps. Aleena had said the troll needed twelve hours out of the sun to thaw, so we were free of them for at least that long. Parts of the valley were in shadow as the sun moved across the sky. It was maybe five o’clock in the afternoon, so we had until early in the morning to get ­home.

  We wound our way between towering trees, found an animal track, and followed it to the riverbank. I stood looking around, trying to orient myself. “There’s a road here in our world,” I said. “Maybe there’s a doorway nearby.”

  We wandered around taking turns holding the ring, inhaling and exhaling, but we couldn’t find a doorway or any other link to our ­world.

  “Maybe we should climb up to another tunnel,” I said, ­frustrated.

  “Or maybe we just can’t find a doorway by ourselves,” Maddy ­snapped.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not going back to Aleena! There must be another way.” I squatted on the bank of the river and tossed rocks into the water. The sun was warm on my back, but cold air rose from the river, chilling my ­hands.

  Maddy settled beside me. “Josh, I have this feeling.”

  “Not another one of your feelings!” I ­groaned.

  “I think there’s another way. I don’t know what, but I don’t think we have to go back to Aleena.”

  “Oh great. So what do we do? Just sit here and wait for it to fall on us?”

  Maddy flushed and hung her ­head.

  I sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, yo
u’re right. What’s the good of a feeling like this if it can’t help? What I want more than anything is to get home, and we can’t!” She shrugged in frustration, then ­froze.

  I glanced down at her. She was staring to the left, where a cluster of trees grew near the riverbank. I turned to look. Several creatures were playing on the shore. They were like people, but they looked sleek, like otters, and were covered in fine fur. Two were hard to see in the shade. Sunlight shone on the third, the tallest, on auburn fur and the soft tan skin of its hands and face. It was about Maddy’s height, but thinner, with a small mouth and ears, and a pointy nose. Its eyes were round and dark, its feet flat and wide at the toes. There was fur in a vee down its forehead, ending in a point near the bridge of its ­nose.

  Maddy and I stayed still as statues, hardly breathing. I mentally sketched them – two tall and one small, fine pencil for delicate features, soft shading for the fur. And then, over the roaring of the water, a new roar emerged. I jerked up, trying to trace ­it.

  Maddy poked me. “You moved. Now they see us!”

  I glanced back along the river. The creatures stared at us, startled. The roaring grew, and the ground began to shake. I could see dust billowing on the mountainside behind us. Roaring filled my ears and rocks bounced past us. It was an avalanche!

  I leapt up and grabbed Maddy, but a rock slammed into me. Pain flared up my leg, and I collapsed. Maddy pulled me to my feet and dragged me clear as rocks flooded down the mountain like water. A boulder crashed to the ground where Maddy had been sitting, then bounced into the river in a great spray of water. Rocks thundered down for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. Finally, the river of rock slowed, then ­stopped.

  We coughed on thick dust and waited for the air to clear. As the dust settled, we could see a scar up the mountainside, the trees buried under grey rock. The avalanche had reached a finger into the river, but the water just flowed around it, tumbling and cold. We stared at where we’d been sitting. It was buried in ­boulders.

  My little sister saved my life! Even though I was just thinking it, I could hear my voice squeak. Maddy saved me! I looked at her with new respect; she was small, but she was ­brave.

  Then Maddy cried out and started to run. “Those creatures!” she gasped, as she climbed the rocks. “The ­otter-­people!”

  I stood gingerly, testing my leg. It was wet with blood, but I could stand on it. I gritted my teeth, trying to ignore the pain, then hobbled after Maddy. I scrambled over rocks, dreading what we’d find. As we drew closer, we heard a soft keening filled with ­grief.

  When we came around a pile of rocks, we could see the tall ­otter-­people, covered in dust and blood, pushing at a boulder while a soft whimpering came from underneath. They spoke to each other in whistles and hums while they struggled to move the boulder. Maddy and I ran up; they backed away in ­fear.

  “Is your little one under here?” asked Maddy ­gently.

  I knelt, and peeked under. The boulder was balanced on a pile of rocks, and there was a gap underneath. I could see a little hand, and hear ­crying.

  The boulder was almost as tall as I was. I put my shoulder to it and shoved. Maddy and the ­otter-­people joined me, and we pushed together. The boulder didn’t move. We pushed again and again, but we couldn’t shift ­it.

  The whimpering stopped. The ­otter-­people began sobbing, frantically digging at the rocks around the boulder. I worried that if they pulled out a rock, the boulder might slip lower and crush the child. I glanced around and spotted broken trees, smashed in the ­avalanche.

  “Maddy, help me,” I called out as I ran to a strong branch. “I need…this…branch…” I gasped as I struggled to free it from a tangle of trees and rocks. Finally we yanked it out, and raced back to the ­boulder.

  “A lever,” I said, trying to explain. I jammed one end as far under the boulder as I could, then grabbed the other end, and pulled down. The wood groaned, but the boulder stayed put. Maddy and the ­otter-­people joined me, and we all pulled down on the branch. Slowly, the boulder began to shift, just a little, then a little more, and then with a crack the branch broke, the boulder settled back, and we tumbled to the ­ground.

  I raced off for a stronger branch, jammed it under the boulder, and we all pulled again. Slowly, the boulder shifted, a little, then a little more, and then it rolled away from us with a great rumble. The branch came free and we fell ­again.

  Maddy and I stood slowly, to give the ­otter-­people time to reach the child. The auburn one stood as the other knelt and gently lifted the ­otter-­child. She crooned to it, tears running down her cheeks. The little one opened its mouth and let out a cry just like a human baby squawking, then it hiccupped and started to ­sob.

  I blinked back my own tears as Maddy and I grinned. What I could see of the face, around the wailing mouth, was warm brown, surrounded by golden fur. The ­otter-­person holding it had the same warm brown skin, with deep brown fur. I pulled off my hoodie and helped wrap the ­otter-­child in it. Its crying slowed as it nestled into the blue fleece, still warm from my ­body.

  The auburn ­otter-­person turned to us. It spoke in a soft whistly voice. “Humans saved Godren. I thank you.” It bowed its head and made a sort of growly purr, ­chrrr.

  I bowed back, ­awkwardly.

  Maddy bowed and smiled. “I’m Maddy.”

  Four long fingers reached out. “You are female, Maddy?”

  Maddy nodded, and held out her ­hand.

  “I am Eneirda. Female.” They touched fingers, and stood still for a moment, then both nodded and turned. “They are Arnica, female, and her child Godren, male.” Then she looked at me ­expectantly.

  “Uh, Josh. My name is Josh. Uh, male.” I stammered a ­little.

  The ­otter-­person softly touched fingers with me. “How can you be here? Sssst! There be no humans in this world. Are you not human?”

  “Yes,” I said, surprised. “We’re human.”

  Maddy whispered to me, “Tell her about the ring.”

  “No,” I said. “Shh.”

  Maddy pushed the ring deeper into her ­pocket.

  Eneirda watched while we whispered. When we were done, she nodded. “Come to camp. Chrrr. Godren needs healing.” She turned and headed downstream, away from the avalanche. Arnica followed, carrying the still crying ­Godren.

  “Should we go with them?” Maddy asked. “Maybe they can help us.”

  I felt around inside myself: I was nervous about everything, anxious for home, loaded with responsibility for Maddy, and curious about the ­otter-­people. They didn’t seem particularly friendly, but they didn’t seem scary either. “How does it feel to you?” I asked ­Maddy.

  “Kind of weird, but safe.”

  “Then let’s go,” I said. If Maddy and I both felt okay about going with them, maybe it would be all ­right.

  We followed the ­otter-­people along the river until we reached a smaller river winding down a side valley. Eneirda led us upstream, away from the highway in the human world. I kept checking behind me, worried about leaving the only place I recognized. But the walk was beautiful. Sunlight danced through the branches of the trees above ­us.

  Maddy found muskberries near the path, and ate a few as we walked. When she spotted a big patch, she stopped to pick a ­handful.

  “C’mon, Maddy,” I called from the path. “They’re almost out of sight.”

  “I’m coming,” she said, as she picked a few ­more.

  She poured half her berries into my hand. I popped some into my mouth; once again, energy flowed through my body. I felt like I was glowing, and suddenly, I could hear all the different sounds the water made as it tumbled over rocks and splashed into the air. I stopped for a moment, wondering what it would be like to paint when I felt like ­this.

  Maddy and I had to run to catch up. We were panting when we reached the otter-­people.

  Eneirda turned, and with a look of horror, she hit my hand and sent the rest o
f my berries flying. She grabbed Maddy’s hand, stained purple but empty, and looked at her mouth, ­purple-­red at the corners. “Sssst! Muskberries not for humans!”

  I gasped. “They’re poisonous?”

  “No, no,” she said, as she saw our fear. “They are not poison.” She ­sighed.

  “Then why can’t we eat them?” asked Maddy. “They’re really good.”

  “Muskberries are for magic folk. Sssst! Only magic folk. Never for humans!” The way she said “humans” made it sound like a swear ­word.

  She marched on ahead of us, faster than before, shoulders tense. Maddy and I followed, confused. Why couldn’t we eat ­muskberries?

  After walking a few more minutes, Eneirda and Arnica stopped on a gravel bar at the edge of the river and looked across to a clearing. Small ­otter-­people wrestled and slid down a muddy slope, splashing into the water. When they saw us, warning cries and growls echoed, and they all dove out of ­sight.

  Eneirda whistled three light calls, then a shrill squeal, and larger ­otter-­people came out of caves along the far bank of the river. Slowly the small ones joined them on the shore. I counted eleven, in shades of brown and auburn, grey and gold. They watched us in stillness for a long time. Then the largest swam across the river and joined us on the pebble ­beach.

  It was a little taller than me, with rich brown fur turned to grey at its head and across its shoulders, and amber skin. It looked at us closely, then spoke in a deep, resonant voice. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Josh, and this is my sister Maddy. We’re trying to get home.”

  “I am Greyfur. Why are you here?”

  “Eneirda brought us.“

  He turned to ­Eneirda.

  “Avalanche trapped Godren. Humans helped.” I heard disgust in her voice again, when she said “humans.” But then her eyes moved to Godren, and she smiled a ­little.