mother being side by side again. He often sounds sad and, in recent times, even a little old, like the long lonely nights are beginning to wear on him. Sometimes he howls at me and my mother for hours and hours, until his voice is shredded and cracking. On those nights I often go to the culvert and I put my front paws in, imagining I'm small again. Then I look to the wall and beat my head against the same spot until blood is oozing out of my fur and into my eyes.

"My story is not so different from what many of these animals here would tell you. Most of the large animals have lost a son or daughter, a mate, a close friend, or a parent. Others feel the terrible loss of the mountains and the lush wild streams lined with fruit trees and blackberry patches. The smaller animals, the ones who can use the tunnels, have maintained a relatively normal life after the walls."

"What makes you think dragging me out here will make any difference?" I said. "I'm only a child, and I command no special importance in Bridewell. I create more bad than good back there. Ask anyone."

Sherwin looked down for a long moment, then straight into my eyes with a heartbreaking look on his face. "Then we have clearly thought wrong, and we should send you back. You're small enough to use the tunnels and you have the right breeding, those things are true. What you lack is belief. If bringing down the wall 123.

would require you to fly, you must believe that you can fly. Otherwise, when the decisive moment comes, you will surely discover you have no wings."

He turned and walked back to stand at his mother's side. The whispers and the sun were both gone. The sounds of owls, crickets, and frogs blended together to form a thick soup of mystifying night music. The full moon rose out of the trees from the east, pouring a bucket of soft white into the grove. And again I felt the discomforting loneliness that so often haunted me.

"I see you've got quite a scratch there on your arm," said Ander, his deep voice jerking me out of my self-pity. "I do apologize. Domesticated animals can be rather pesky at times. That's not to say Sam and Pepper are bad cats they've actually been helpful in our attempts to get you out here. But they can be, shall we say, spirited.

"Now then, I believe you have a stone in your possession, which I must now ask you to produce. That is, if you don't mind. It may be that you are not the person for the job at hand, even if I'm quite convinced that you are. In any case, the stone will tell us a lot about what your future holds."

With all that was going on, I had completely forgotten about the stone hanging around my neck in the small leather pouch. I clutched it under the blanket, afraid at first to give it up. What if I never got it back?

I wiggled open the string at the top and removed the 124.

stone. When I held it out to Ander, the feathery green glow illuminated the s.p.a.ce between the two of us, and the crowd of animals let out a meandering collection of oohs and ahs. I set the stone down on a large flat rock that sat between us, and it continued to throb liquid green light like the steady time of a beating drum. Boom, boom, boom.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" said Ander as he gazed at its strange throbbing radiance. Boom, boom, boom.

"This entire area, including the forest, mountains, and hills, was at one time full of Elyon's enchantment. It was a marvelous place indeed. The stone you chose is ; what allows you to communicate with us, just as we communicate with one another.

"At one time there were six stones like this in the pool. Yipes found the first, then another was taken, then the convicts came and took all but this one." He nodded toward the pulsating green ma.s.s sitting between us. "In these stones lie the answer to why Elyon created us, why he created this place, and where he's gone."

Ander sat silent then for a long time, his heavy breathing filling the air. It seemed as though he was searching for something in the silence he couldn't quite find. And then he came back to life again.

"Unfortunately, we haven't the time to talk about all that right now," he said. "Elyon is on the move, his plans are unfolding in this very age, and we shall all be witnesses 125.

to his triumphant return in the days to come. One thing can tell you: Someone known to you was responsible for bringing the stones here, but that is about all we have time for."

"Thomas Warvold," I said, without the slightest hesitation.

"An excellent guess. He is responsible for a great many things that, in his death, we are all left to consider.

But he did not bring the stones. They were placed in the pool by his wife, Renny."

Ander looked at the sky and sniffed at the air, then continued.

"When things settle down, you can come see me again and I'll tell you all about the mysterious Warvolds. For now, we really must be getting on with things."

I started to protest. I asked about Elyon, whom I had never thought of as more than a legend. But at every turn Ander insisted we stay on his choice of topics, that the time for those answers had not yet come. I wasn't about to have it out with a thousand-pound grizzly, but his comments left me terribly curious to learn more about Thomas, Renny, and in particular, Elyon.

"All magic runs out sometime, Alexa, and this place has been running out for some time now. We used to be able to communicate with the birds; now they understand us but we do not understand them. We can send them off to do things, but we cannot be sure if they have done 126.

what we asked them to. Oh, they can tell us a little by the way they move and the sounds they make. But it's as if we speak completely different languages now.

"Some of the animals are beginning to experience the same problems," Ander continued. "We can comprehend one another most of the time, but occasionally our voices become garbled for a morning or an afternoon, only to return again some hours later. This process accelerated after the wall went up."

Ander touched the stone with the edge of his paw and gently pushed it two or three inches along the flat rock. The fluid green light continued to pulsate between the two of us.

"With humans, the stone gives you two important things," he continued, putting his paw back on the ground. "The ability to communicate with animals and a glimpse , into the future. In other words, it gives new insight in two ways: present and future. Just like any magical effect, this one comes with its own set of rules. For instance, the ability to talk with animals works only if you stay in the wild. As soon as you leave, the power begins to drift away. Once this process starts, it cannot be reversed, and there are no more stones to be had. Once you leave the wild, the stone will start its gradual descent into dim regularity. It will throb more slowly -- and with less intensity -- over a period of undetermined time.

"As you can probably imagine, Yipes has never left the wild of the forest and the mountains, and so he continues 127.

to enjoy the questionable benefits of speaking with animals." Ander took a moment to look over at Yipes with a nod and a wink, and then he continued.

"I said before that a stone was taken by someone other than Yipes or the convicts. That person set a stone right where you've just set yours, and it glowed like a small but glorious orange sun at the tail end of a hot day.

Can you guess who might have sat where you sit now, Alexa?"

I thought for a moment about the possible answers to the question, but I was sure I knew whom Ander was talking about.

"Warvold," I said.

"Absolutely! It was none other than Mr. Warvold himself, the great adventurer. Would you like to hear what his stone revealed about his future?"

I nodded and he leaned forward over the table, the green glow from my stone wafting through his bushy fur with a watery glow.

"Warvold's stone revealed that one day terrible forces from this enchanted land would rise up and cause the destruction of everything he had created," said Ander. "He took this to mean that dark monsters lived out here and would someday enter his kingdom and kill everyone. But he badly misread the meaning of his future."

"He was mistaken, just like he told me," I interjected. "When he sat with me that last night with our backs against the wall, he told me he'd gotten it all wrong." My 128.

head was reeling as I tried to put it all together. "His future wasn't about dark enchanted monsters at all. He made his own monsters, then let them loose in The Dark Hills to "

"Now don't get too far ahead of yourself, Alexa. You're only half right. Allow me the indulgence of giving you the whole story, if you would," said Ander. "When Warvold was told about his future, he was terrified for his wife, Renny, and all the people streaming into Lunenburg. He was beside himself with grief. We tried to explain to him that the Jocasta could be misinterpreted to mean something it did not, and we a.s.sured him that we knew of no evil monsters lurking about."

"Did you say Jocasta?" I asked.

"Yes. That's what the messages etched on the stones are called," Ander replied.

"How much did Renny Warvold have to do with all this?"

'A lot, and she was smarter than you can imagine. She brought the enchanted stones here. She started everything." Ander hunched his enormous back up and let out a low rumbling growl. "I'm not as young as I once was, and we're approaching my bedtime," he said absentmindedly. "Where was I? Oh, yes when Warvold returned to Lunenburg he hatched a plan to build a wall before there was any further expansion. He added more guards I and made the arrangement with the leaders in Ainsworth. Everything went as planned, and during the span of the 129.

next several years Warvold completed not one but three walled roads, along with three new walled princ.i.p.alities. By the time he'd gone this far, he'd figured out how to use three hundred convicts and hundreds more of his own men to build quickly. The wall between the forest and the mountains was the last. First he built it only eight feet high, then his own people followed behind to finish the rest. It was remarkable, really -- sometimes a thousand feet a day were walled in, quickly cutting off the pa.s.sage between the forest and the mountains. By all accounts the operation was a marvel of speed and efficiency.

"But Warvold made one important miscalculation in his plan: He trusted the leaders in Ainsworth to take back the criminals. Further, he took them at their word when they said they had indeed taken them back. You see, until that night when you sat with him, Warvold never knew that the leaders in Ainsworth had set those men free in The Dark Hills. They never thought Warvold would actually give them back, and they had planned poorly for their return. The officials in Ainsworth had no place to put them, so they delivered them into The Dark Hills and banished them to the caves. The way the Ainsworth officials figured it, n.o.body would ever be the wiser."

"What caves are you talking about, Ander? I never heard of any caves out there," I said.

"The caves were formed when all the materials for the wall were dug up, of course. My dear, there are miles of 130.

giant tunnels out there in The Dark Hills, and miles more on the surface made of thick, th.o.r.n.y underbrush. That's how the convicts get around both above- and belowground without being seen. Where do you think almost three hundred men are going to go?

"Those walls those miles and miles of walls are made from a clay that could only be found underground. Clay is a plentiful substance out there in The Dark Hills and easy to harvest. All one has to do is dig a few feet under the ground and start tunneling. Everything in the tunnel's path will be pure clay, which was the primary ingredient Warvold wanted for the building blocks.

"It really isn't all Warvold's fault things have developed as they have. Nonetheless, it was his fear that drove him to create a monster. The monster he created is not the collection of criminals who live in The Dark Hills. The monster is the wall itself. But I suppose that would be a debate for another time."

Everything was becoming clear now. It was like a giant puzzle with interlocking pieces, and Ander had just fit everything together on one moonlit evening. Only it seemed in the telling that one piece was left missing.

"Ander, why am I out here?" I said.

The whispers started up again, and Murphy did back- flips and spins. It was exhausting to watch the little squirrel expend so much energy. Ander lifted his head up, and the grove went still and quiet again.

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"We believe that Warvold's death set in motion the beginning of the end of this age. We have no idea if this eventual end will take five days or five years, but we know it is coming. For better or for worse, you are the chosen one, and not just by us, but by Warvold himself. There is just a tad more I must tell you now, and then we really must get on with reading your stone and shuffling you off to bed. It's getting late, very late indeed.

"Alexa, all that you are being told must be kept a secret until the time is right to reveal what you know. Someone in Bridewell is not what he seems. That someone is the one the convicts call Sebastian. We have heard them mention him and his plans. He is living inside Bridewell, giving the orders, making things ready for a time when the convicts will invade all of Bridewell and bring Warvold's future to pa.s.s. Who is Sebastian? I'm sure the birds could tell us if we could understand them, but we have no idea. None whatsoever. I can tell you but one thing: The convicts left the last stone for a reason. They meant it for their leader, and when they find it has been taken, it will enrage them even more.

"Sebastian must be found out and revealed for the serpent that he is, and the vile criminals must be stopped from invading Bridewell. Cut off the serpent's head and the whole serpent dies. The convicts are not brilliant men, Alexa. However, they are extremely vengeful, and Sebastian is brilliant. At present, this is a lethal combination.

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"If power is transferred to the criminals, war will be upon us, and the wall will become a military stronghold. Once set in motion, violence will rain down on Bridewell and the wall will remain, possibly forever. We must reveal and remove the danger, and in so doing convince people that the danger is past. That's our only hope of bringing down the wall." Ander was skirting around the point he was trying to make, then he stammered and got right to the heart of the matter.

"You cannot tell anyone about what has taken place here tonight. Especially about Sebastian," he said.

"You think Sebastian might be my own father?" I said. The remark was met with a cold, silent stare from Ander. "But my father doesn't have a C branded on his face," I yelled.

"True, but we can't be certain that Sebastian was a convict," Ander continued. "It could be someone on the inside who knows more than they are telling and has a motive to side with them. Perhaps it's someone looking for more power, like a disgruntled son or a crafty guard with wicked ambitions. Maybe it's an old man who fixes books, or a simple mail carrier with timely access to powerful people. It could be anyone. That is why you can't tell what you know.

"Alexa, you know how to work alone and maintain secrecy. You're small and easily hidden. You have connections to important people, but you're not important enough 133.

yourself to be scrutinized too closely. Face it, Alexa -- you're perfect for the task."

I couldn't argue with Ander's reasoning.

"Only one thing left to do -- read your Jocasta," said Ander.

"What if I don't want it revealed? What if I'd rather not know my future?" I said.

"That is your choice to make and we will honor it. But in this case, I must say, I think your Jocasta will give you much-needed clarity for the days to come," said An- der.

I sat silent for a long moment, and then I looked straight into the grizzly's powerful face.

"Read it," I said.

Yipes jumped down off his perch and walked toward us. He crawled right up on the big, flat rock and removed a magnifying gla.s.s from his vest. Then he held the gla.s.s against his eye and put his face less than an inch from the rhythmically pulsating stone. Boom, boom, boom. After a moment, he rose into a sitting position and looked at Ander. Ander nodded and Yipes looked at me.

"You will be the one to find the serpent," he said.

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137.

CHAPTER 15.

An UNEXPECTED ENEMY The trapdoor wavered in the air while Yipes held it up as best he could. I think he pretended to make it look more difficult than it was so he could more easily avoid eye contact with me. We were both sad that I was going back to Bridewell that morning.

"You have a visitor, Alexa," said Yipes. I looked back over my shoulder into the heat of the morning sun. Standing motionless off in the distance was the silhouette of a large wolf. I waved to him and he turned to the west and headed up into the mountains.

"I've got to go," I said.

I started down the ladder into the dark tunnel.

"Wait!" yelled Yipes. "I almost forgot to give you this." He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a small tube. "Not to be shared until you know who is found out. And one other thing." He wagged his finger at me, trying to balance the heavy door with his other hand. "Be careful who you talk to from here on out. Trust no one."

As he said this, it was clear he was losing control of the trapdoor, and it swayed dangerously above me. I scrambled down another three rungs as fast as I could 138.

and the door came swinging down with its full force, slamming and showering me with a storm of dirt. I lost my grip and hung by three fingers from the ladder. A few more inches and the door would have hammered me like a nail into a thirty-foot free fall.

I regained my footing and my grip on the ladder and shook the dirt from my hair and shoulders. It was pitch- black in the tunnel. I waited and waited for Yipes to open the door, but it remained dark and quiet. "Yipes!" I yelled, but received no answer. I removed a wooden match from my pouch and struck it against the ladder. The light revealed the lamp I had left hanging on the third rung down. Thankfully it had not plunged to the floor and smashed into useless pieces.

I lit the lamp and felt much better once I could see my surroundings. I held it out over the open air, but I could not see the bottom. The darkness swallowed up the light about ten feet down. I waited until the intense pain in my hands threatened my grip on the ladder. I called again for Yipes but got no answer. Then I started the slow descent to the floor of the tunnel, moving the lamp down three rungs at a time as I went.

When I reached the bottom I found the book I had left behind, covered in dirt. "I bet you never thought you'd see me again," I said to Cabeza de Vaca. "You're looking well these days. Travels treating you all right?" A sparkle from the corner of the tunnel caught my eye and I held the lamp over it. There in the dirt was the tube 139.

Yipes had given me. It was about four inches long and an inch around, with jewels embedded across its wood surface. The top was closed with a wooden cork.

I removed the cork with a pop and took out a paper scroll. Attached was a note, which read Make sure you don't accidentally give this to the wrong person, signed by Yipes. I unrolled the paper and revealed what looked to be an exact copy of the map I had seen hanging on the underground wall where the convicts were. This must have been what Yipes was working on when he spent time down in that secret pa.s.sageway.

The map showed both black and brown lines, along with notations about some of them. The black lines represented belowground tunnels, the brown ones aboveground pa.s.sageways created by thick brush. I'd have to give the map careful review when I had more light and could make sure it didn't fall into the wrong hands.

I looked up once more, hoping I would see a crack of light and Yipes's little face peering down at me. Seeing only darkness, I turned and started walking for Bridewell. My pace quickened when I thought of seeing my father, Grayson, Ganesh, Nicolas, and Silas. I slowed down when I thought of Pervis. The idea of sleeping in my own bed or talking to Sam and Pepper for the first time or searching for a good book in the library got me moving faster again. I knew that the second I opened the trapdoor back into the library my stone would start weakening and my ability to talk with the animals would slowly disappear.

140.

This made me shuffle slowly and look over my shoulder in the direction I'd come from. It was a bittersweet journey, to say the least.

Eventually I stood on the ladder at the top of the tunnel in the stairwell, listening for any sign of movement in the library. It seemed to me that I had been gone a lifetime, seen a whole new world, and returned as an altogether different person.

"Is that you, Alexa?" came a feline voice from the other side.

Be careful who you talk to from here in out. Trust no one. Yipes's words clanged around in my head like a dinner bell.