Kendra Kandlestar and the Door to Unger Page 12

  “Itzum crimezum for Unger to eatzum any intelligentee critter,” Trooogul explained.

  “A crime?” Kendra asked incredulously. “I would have thought Ungers would eat anything.”

  “That’s becauzum youzum Eeneez,” Trooogul snorted. “And Eeneez thinkzum knowzum everything.”

  “You know, you could be a whole lot kinder,” Kendra told the beast.

  “Trooogul no kindzum to annoying littlezum Eeneez that he despizum,” came the reply.

  “Fine,” Kendra said. “Just so you know, I don’t like you very much either. Especially right now.”

  “Goodzee,” Trooogul uttered. “Thatzum way supposed to be betweenzum Unger and Eeneez.”

  Kendra threw her hands into air. “FINE,” she said. “Be that way.”

  As it turned out, there was less and less eating for both of them in the following days. For now the landscape began to change. The forests thinned, and soon the only trees were thin and short, with brown and brittle leaves. The bushes turned gray and drooped over as if thirsting for water, of which there seemed to very little. There were very few berries or seeds, and scarcely a critter to be found amidst the failing countryside.

  If she had not known better, Kendra would have thought winter was arriving. Then she remembered the words from the Legend of the Wizard Greeve: “ . . . and in that place the plants withered, the rivers shrank, and the great trees fell.”

  “We must be getting close,” Kendra told Trooogul. “This place is dark and desolate—just like the Greeven Wastes are said to be.”

  The nights became colder. Trooogul thought a fire would not be a good idea, so most times Kendra shivered herself to sleep. Then, one night, she awoke to the sound of her own teeth chattering.

  “I’m freezing!” she moaned.

  She looked over at Trooogul, hunched over and sleeping soundly. He looked like a great boulder. Slowly she crept over to his big body and touched him. How warm he was! She gave her braids a nervous yank. Traveling with the Unger was one thing; curling up next to him was another. But she was too cold to dwell on the idea, so she quickly nestled against his thick gray body.

  “Whatzum doing?” Trooogul murmured, stirring from his slumber.

  “I’m freezing,” Kendra told him.

  Trooogul opened one large, sleepy eye and gave her an inquisitive look.

  “Really freezing,” Kendra said.

  “Okayzum, Little Star,” he muttered groggily.

  “What did you call me?” Kendra asked.

  “Hmm? Whatzum?” Trooogul grunted.

  “You called me ‘Little Star’,” Kendra told him. “It was almost kind.”

  “Trooogul half-asleepzum!” the Unger grunted angrily. “Little Eenee shouldzum shutzum and go sleepzee toozum.”

  Kendra shrugged and snuggled in close to Trooogul. She felt the coldness melt from her body and happily, she sighed. That night she had her best sleep in a week.

  THE NEXT MORNING, before the dull sun had quite managed to gleam upon the somber landscape, Kendra was awoken by a strange voice weaving through the lonely trees. The tiny girl arose and rubbed her eyes, at first thinking that she must be dreaming. Then she heard the voice again. It came as a song, and Kendra heard these words:

  If you have a griffin in the closet

  Why you just can’t toss it

  But don’t be so forlorn

  Just call for Effryn Hagglehorn.

  “How strange,” Kendra remarked. Trooogul was still sound asleep, so she shook the great beast awake. “Listen,” she said. “Can you hear this song?”

  Trooogul cocked his ear to the sound and listened to the next verse. “Soundzum like somethingee dying,” he said after a moment.

  “It sounds like a happy sort of song, if you ask me,” Kendra said.

  They listened again:

  If you have a boil on your bottom,

  Well, that’s pretty rotten

  But don’t prick it with a thorn

  Just ask for Effryn Hagglehorn!

  “Thatzum no happyzum song,” Trooogul declared. “Bottoms and boilzums!”

  “Come on!” Kendra urged. “Let’s go meet this singer.”

  “Trooogul thought Eeneez supposed to be scaredzum of everythingzum,” Trooogul snorted.

  “That’s the problem with Ungers,” Kendra laughed as she darted off through the scrub towards the voice. “They think they know everything.”

  The sun was now beginning to light the way, and in another moment, the two companions came upon a curious scene. Here, in a hollow in the bushes, was an odd-looking fellow, hanging upside down from a sort of snare attached to a small tree that was bowing slightly over with his weight. The creature had been caught by his feet (or hooves, rather, Kendra realized), but he did not appear the least bit worried about his predicament; indeed, if anything, he seemed rather amused.

  Kendra studied the droll fellow with an inquisitive tug of her braids. He was about the size of a Dwarf, but that was about where the similarity ended. The entire bottom-half of the creature was covered in fur and not only did he have hooves, but also a tail with a bushy end, like a paintbrush. His top half was quite different, for he wore no cloak or shirt and Kendra could plainly see his round little belly, which seemed to jiggle as he hung above her. As for his face, he had a long beard, two large ears that stuck out at right angles, and twinkling green eyes that were roofed by curly eyebrows. On the very top of his head were two horns that coiled forward like a pair of hooks.

  “Why, I know what you are!” Kendra exclaimed after a moment. “You’re a Faun! We have a statue of one right in the middle of Faun’s End.”

  “Well shave my shins!” the creature said as he regarded Kendra. “You must be an Een, if you know Faun’s End.”

  “Of course I’m an Een,” Kendra said.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” the Faun said, extending one of his chubby hands for Kendra to shake, though he was far too high up for her to reach. When he realized this gesture was in vain, the Faun turned his attention to Trooogul and said, “Well, clip my crown! It’s an Unger of all things, rubbing elbows with an Een. Aren’t you two supposed to be mortal enemies?”

  “Yeezum,” Trooogul muttered grumpily, sitting down in front of the dangling Faun.

  “We’ve called a truce,” Kendra explained. “But Mr. Faun—or, er—I don’t know what to call you—how did you end up hanging here?”

  “Butter my beard!” the Faun exclaimed, swaying in the air as he spoke. “Imagine my manners at not introducing myself properly. Why, I’m Effryn, Effryn Hagglehorn to be exact, purveyor of magical goods. Cures, charms, and curios—all things enchanted, if you will. If you have any problems, well, then I’m your Faun.”

  “I’m Kendra,” the Een girl said. “And this is Trooogul. But it seems to me that you’re the one who has a problem right now. Do you need us to rescue you?”

  “Why, not at all!” Effryn said cheerfully.

  “But little Eeneez likezum playing rescue,” Trooogul grumbled.

  “Oh shut it,” Kendra said to the Unger. “If it wasn’t for me you’d be dangling off some cliff or breaking rocks for Pugglemud!”

  “Annoying little Eeneez,” the Unger sneered.

  “Oh, my!” Effryn bleated. “You two argue just like my children—well, if I had any children, which I don’t. But if I did, I’m sure they’d argue just like you.”

  Trooogul grunted and said, “Why little Faunee not usee magic to getzum out of trapzum?”

  “Why, I was just getting to that,” Effryn proclaimed. “Then you two came along and completely interrupted my plan.”

  “Er . . . and what plan is that?” Kendra asked skeptically.

  “Well, it involves a bit of patience,” Effryn admitted. “Mostly because Skeezle is so slow. But he’ll get to me soon enough.”

  “Skeezle?” Trooogul asked, casting his eyes about, as if he expected someone (or something) to appear at any moment.

  “Where is this . . .
Skeezle?” Kendra asked.

  “Oh, he’s been here the whole time,” Effryn said. “You just haven’t seen him. He’s making his way up the trunk of this pesky tree, which some cruel creature has used to ensnare me.”

  Kendra took a step closer to the tree, but the only thing she saw was a tiny snail, making the long and tediously slow journey up the trunk. Then, upon second look, Kendra saw that a miniature box was strapped to the back of the little creature. There was some writing on the box, but it was far too tiny for Kendra to read.

  “This must be Skeezle,” Kendra declared. “But how is he ever going to help you, Mr. Hagglehorn?”

  “He’s not,” Effryn replied. “I never said he would, did I? But I just need him to get close enough so that I can touch him. Then I’ll be able to get myself out of this quandary.”

  “Well, Trooogul and I can help speed up this affair,” Kendra declared.

  Ever so gently, the Een girl scooped the snail into her hands. Then, she handed the shelled creature to Trooogul who, being much taller than Kendra, was able to pass it up to Effryn.

  “Ah, much obliged!” the Faun said, accepting Skeezle into his plump hands. Then he cried, “Ta-wit-cha-doo-roo!”

  In that instant, there was a great puff of smoke—and when it cleared, Skeezle had grown from a very tiny snail into a simply enormous one, so big that he towered above even Trooogul. The box had grown too, though now, Kendra could see that it was not so much a box, but rather a type of carriage that was attached to the back of the snail. The words on the side of the carriage were now plainly visible. They read:

  Effryn Hagglehorn’s Marvelous Marvels

  Cures, Charms, Curios ~ Cheap!

  While Kendra and Trooogul were still gaping at this sudden spectacle of magic, Effryn reached into the carriage (he was now hanging right alongside it) and lifted out a sharp tool, which he then used to cut himself free. He landed to the ground with a soft plop. He picked himself up and, after brushing the dirt out of his beard, announced, “Well, let’s open shop, shall we?”

  HOPEFULLY, you’ve never had the misfortune in your life of having to talk your way out of a deal with a huckster. What is a “huckster,” you ask? Well, a huckster is someone who can sell anything to anyone—and if Kendra had ever met a huckster, well, then, it was Effryn Hagglehorn.

  Before Kendra could even ask the fat little Faun what “shop” he was referring to, Effryn had trotted over to Skeezle and snapped his fingers, which caused the sides of the carriage to burst open and reveal a glistening heap of caskets, flasks, cauldrons, urns, chests, horns, and jugs, all bound haphazardly together with twine. Indeed, it looked as if removing just one item would mean the collapse of the entire mound of curios—but this was exactly what Effryn did. Leaping upon the stack with his little hooves, he began yanking out a bottle here and a flask there and tossing them down to Kendra and Trooogul as he prattled on about his many wares.

  “How about the dust from a fairy’s freckle? A gnome’s drone? The blink of a dragon’s eye?”

  Kendra and Trooogul stared at each other, shrugging helplessly.

  “Perhaps an Izzard’s cough?” Effryn called down. “Or an Orrid’s bad breath? Both very good for treating Goojun pox—or so I hear.”

  Kendra ventured a look over at Skeezle, but the oversized snail showed not the slightest interest in any of his master’s chatter. His long antennae bobbed as Effryn scrambled back and forth across the carriage strapped to his back. It didn’t appear as if Skeezle could talk—but Kendra was sure that she saw the great slug yawn.

  “What? Nothing shakes your soda yet?” Effryn asked, looking down at them from his pile. “Well, trim my tail! You two make a pair of poor consumers.”

  “Sorry, Mr. Hagglehorn,” Kendra spoke up. “We don’t exactly have any money.”

  “No money!” Effryn cried, hopping down from his carriage. “Well, run a razor over my rump! Why the heck did you come to see me then?”

  “We didn’t!” Kendra replied. “Don’t you remember? We found you.”

  “Helpedzum little Faunee, as matter of factzum,” Trooogul added gruffly.

  “Helped me?” Effryn said, jabbing a finger at them. “Well, I didn’t ask you, did I? And you certainly didn’t negotiate anything in return for your assistance. So I do believe, in the absence of any formal contract, that you can’t hold me to any sort of remuneration.”

  “Well—of course not—we didn’t expect anything,” Kendra sputtered. “But—,”

  “Maybe Trooogul just squishee Faunee,” Trooogul snorted, lifting one of his massive fists.

  “There’s no need to be uncivil,” Effryn said, shirking beneath the shadow of the beast’s giant claw. “But listen, I’ll tell you what. I have something for you, Kendra. Something that an Een would want—very much, I suspect.”

  “And what is that?” Kendra asked curiously.

  “Why, do you see this?” Effryn asked, producing a small silver bottle. “Inside is a magic little whisper I found bouncing back and forth in a quiet corner of Echo Valley last October. It was trapped there, you see! Couldn’t get out. And I managed to scoop it into this bottle—the secret of the magic curtain that protects the land of Een from the outside world!”

  Kendra let out a shriek. “You have to give that to me!” she cried, reaching for the bottle, but just as quickly, Effryn slipped it into some mysterious pocket on his person.

  “Well, wax my whiskers!” the Faun cried. “I do believe you want this after all.”

  “Of course I do!” Kendra said excitedly. “The secret of the magic curtain was inside the Box of Whispers, until it escaped with the rest of the secrets of Een. But it rightfully belongs to Een. You ought to give it back.”

  “I’ll do no sort of thing,” Effryn retorted. “But I will sell it.”

  “Can Trooogul squishee Faunee nowzum?” Trooogul asked Kendra, lifting his fist again.

  “Now, now,” Effryn said. “How’d you like me to turn you into a rock, eh Trooogul? I can do it, you know! Besides, I’m just trying to conduct a business transaction here.”

  “But you can’t sell what’s not yours!” Kendra said.

  “But it is mine,” Effryn said. “Finders keepers.”

  “You’re . . . you’re as greedy as a Dwarf!” Kendra told him.

  “Now you injure my feelings,” Effryn said, kicking at the ground with his hooves. “If I was greedy, I’d be selling the spell of the magic curtain to the highest bidder, wouldn’t I? But I’m offering it to an Een, aren’t I? I could quite as easily walk up to Izzard City or Krake Castle; those critters would pay a heap of gold for this little spell.”

  “No listenzum to Faunee,” Trooogul said, stepping in between Kendra and Effryn. “Faunee knowzum that beasties likezum Izzards, Krakes, and Ungers no havezum gold.”

  “Well, not as much as Een,” Effryn admitted with a twitch of his big goat ears.

  “That may be true,” Kendra said. “But this is one Een who doesn’t have any gold.”

  “Then I tell you what,” Effryn said, a twinkle growing in his eye. “What you need to do is take me to that land of Een of yours, Kendra. It’s hidden from me of course, because I’m not an Een. But if you can get me there, well then I’m sure the Een Elders will pay handsomely for this secret! After all, they don’t want it falling into the wrong hands . . . or, should I say, claws?”

  “Is that some sort of threat?” Kendra asked.

  “Of course not,” Effryn bleated. “I’m just asking you to take me to Een, so I can sell my wares.”

  “But we’re not going to Een,” Kendra said. “We’re headed for the Door to Unger.”

  “Well, I’ll be shorn!” Effryn cried, leaping back and crashing right into Skeezle, so that a small chest from the top of the carriage fell down and bounced off his hairy head.

  “Whyzum Faunee always talking about gettings shorn or shavezum?” Trooogul asked. “Itzum annoying.”

  “Well, no self-respecting Faun ever wants to
be shaved,” Effryn replied, rubbing the spot on his head where he had been struck. “Why, we’re a hairy folk, us Fauns, and we like it that way. But I think I do need to go to the barber and get the hair clipped out of my ears. Because what I thought you said, Kendra, was that you wanted to go to the Door to Unger.”

  “You heard right,” Kendra told the funny creature. “I do want to go to the door. My uncle and my friends have been taken there. And it’s up to me to . . . to . . . well, save them, and destroy that wretched place.”

  “Butter my beard!” Effryn cried. “From what I’ve heard, anyone who’s ever gone to the Door to Unger has never come back! What makes you think you’re any different? And why would Trooogul want to destroy the door? Just what are you two up to anyway?”

  Kendra wasn’t sure she could trust the strange little Faun, but she decided the best thing to do would be tell him the whole story. And so, that’s what she did. She told him of the Unger prophecy, how she was marked on her palm, and how the Unger Oroook had told her that she needed to get to the door before the first summer’s moon.

  “It’s quite a tale,” Effryn said, when she had finished. “Now, I’ve heard of this Unger prophecy, of course. Why, I’m sure I have a copy of it somewhere in my carriage—I’ll sell it to you if you want.”

  “We don’t need it, thanks,” Kendra said, giving her braids a tug of frustration. “What we really need is to get to the door as soon as possible.”

  “That’s true,” Effryn mused. “Summer is but a few days away—which means the first moon of the season.”

  “Oroook said the door only opens once a year—on that night, in fact,” Kendra said.

  “Well, you can make it in time, if you hurry,” Effryn remarked as he scratched his hairy chin.

  “Do you know the way?” Kendra asked.

  “Of course!” Effryn answered. “I know everything—for a price of course. But you’ll need more than my sense of direction to succeed, that’s for sure.”