Beyond the Valley of Thorns Read online

  THE LAND OF ELYON BOOK 2

  Beyond the

  Valley of

  Thorns

  PATRICK CARMAN

  For Sierra

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Map of Elyon

  Epigraphs

  PART 1

  CHAPTER 1: MY ARRIVAL IN BRIDEWELL

  CHAPTER 2: AN UNEXPECTED MESSAGE

  CHAPTER 3: THE SECRET CAVE

  CHAPTER 4: JOHN CHRISTOPHER

  CHAPTER 5: WHAT WARVOLD LEFT BEHIND

  CHAPTER 6: THE BLACK SWARM

  CHAPTER 7: CLUES IN THE DARKNESS

  CHAPTER 8: CASTALIA

  CHAPTER 9: WHAT THE GIANT TOLD

  CHAPTER 10: JOURNEY ACROSS THE DARK HILLS

  CHAPTER 11: MY SPYGLASS GETS SOME USE

  CHAPTER 12: THE VALLEY OF THORNS

  CHAPTER 13: AN UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENT

  CHAPTER 14: WHAT REMAINS OF THE STORY IS TOLD

  PART 2

  CHAPTER 15: FIRE AND RAIN

  CHAPTER 16: INTO THE CITY OF DOGS

  CHAPTER 17: THE WHARF

  CHAPTER 18: BALMORAL

  CHAPTER 19: THE OGRE

  CHAPTER 20: THE SECRET IN ARMON’S LEATHER BAG

  CHAPTER 21: THE DARK TOWER

  CHAPTER 22: VICTOR GRINDALL

  CHAPTER 23: THE DUNGEON

  CHAPTER 24: OVER THE CLIFFS

  CHAPTER 25: THE CHASE BEGINS

  Preview

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright

  As evening approaches and the shadows begin their descent into Bridewell, the same frightening thoughts always disturb me. Darkness sends its shadows to draw all men back into itself, for it is in the shadows that darkness plays. And what of the man who stays in the shadows too long, at play with sinister thoughts?

  Darkness will surely overtake him.

  FROM THE DIARY OF THOMAS WARVOLD

  To be surprised, to wonder, is to begin to understand.

  The Revolt of the Masses,

  JOSÉ ORTEGA Y GASSET

  PART 1

  CHAPTER 1

  MY ARRIVAL IN BRIDEWELL

  Yesterday I left Lathbury behind. I traveled with Father and he let me drive the cart on the road to Bridewell. The journey could not have been more different from the one I took on the same road only a year ago, before the walls that surrounded it were taken down. The ride is still hot, but yesterday I could see in every direction — the Dark Hills to my left, the valley floor and Mount Norwood to my right, Fenwick Forest a green mass in the distance. As I looked around and smelled the air thick with blooms, I couldn’t help but daydream about the adventures that might be had in the faraway corners of The Land of Elyon.

  Driving along the dusty road, I kept a lookout for animals I might recognize or hawks flying overhead, but it seemed the animals had been sent into hiding by the noisy grinding of our wagon wheels on the road.

  “So, can you tell me the rules once more?” I asked my father. After all the events of the previous summer he was more protective than ever, and I wanted to be sure I knew the rules I’d likely break once we arrived in Bridewell.

  “Ah, yes, the rules,” he replied, whittling on a stick with his knife. “First and foremost, absolutely no leaving the confines of Bridewell unless accompanied by an adult, and even then I want to know exactly where you’re going and why. There’s plenty to keep you busy in town without milling around outside unsupervised. And no sneaking around the lodge, listening in on conversations you shouldn’t be hearing. Also, you’re to join me for dinner each evening. It’s time I started grooming you for leadership. A few more years and your visits to Bridewell will be less play and more work.”

  I could feel my childhood slipping away with each of his statements, most notably the last remark about becoming a leader in our community. It made me long for the days when Warvold had told me stories and I’d been off on adventures in the mountains with Yipes and Murphy. I wished my father wasn’t so important, that I was an unknown girl drifting through towns on my way to one place or another, free to travel The Land of Elyon as I pleased.

  “Sounds exciting,” I replied, faking enthusiasm a bit more than I should have. My father looked at me as if my tone was not what he had hoped for. We settled into a silence, he no doubt thinking of how he might keep an eye on me and still get his work done over the summer, me dreaming of adventures to be had in faraway places.

  Half an hour passed with little talk between us, and then the walls of Bridewell came into view a long way down the road. These were the only walls that remained, and their presence seemed to appear out of nowhere, like a giant limbless tree cut to a stump, sitting cold and alone in the wild. I suddenly felt unprotected out in the open, a feeling that had come and gone ever since the walls had been removed everywhere else. Even in the safety of my home along the towering jagged cliffs by the sea, I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that I was somehow unsafe without the walls that I’d been so eager to be rid of only a summer ago.

  The horses picked up their pace upon seeing their destination. It wasn’t long before we arrived at the huge wooden gate where Pervis Kotcher stood high above in the guard tower. Even at a distance I could see his wiry face and thin mustache. His eyes, always dark and penetrating, watched carefully as my horses came to an abrupt stop in front of the entrance to Bridewell.

  “Oh, no. Trouble has arrived along with Mr. Daley,” Pervis said to the man at his side. “Best we keep double watch at the towers until she takes her leave.”

  I smiled up at him, and a flood of memories swirled around in my head. I was back in Bridewell for another summer and my adventurous spirit was newly flamed.

  “Nice to see you, too, Pervis,” I said. “I’m looking forward to eluding you day after day, all summer long.”

  We entered Bridewell and the day was filled with the business of settling in at Renny Lodge, unpacking my one bag, and enjoying meals with my father, Nicolas, Grayson, Silas Hardy, and Pervis. Each of these men had played an important part in my life, especially during the eventful previous summer in Bridewell. My father, ever the leader, was already busy with endless meetings. Nicolas looked trim and handsome as usual, but he was more serious now, and he seemed to have aged more than the year since his own father’s death. What can be said of Grayson for those who might have forgotten him? He remained plump, forever sneaking to the kitchen, and I still loved visiting him in the library where he worked at mending books. Silas continued his duties as mail carrier for my father and other important folks, but he had grown into something of a confidant to my father, the two of them often walking together and talking quietly. Pervis had stopped following me around trying to catch me escaping, but I’d never known him to be more alert and cautious of the outside. He spent most of his time at the guard towers, and he seemed to be waiting nervously for something I could only imagine. The only person missing was Ganesh. A year later it was still hard to believe how he had deceived us all.

  A day later, with the journey and the greetings behind me, I was able to sit on the sill of the window in my room and think. The walled confines of Bridewell were oddly comforting to me now. To see them from the window in my room or walk around the town square and see the walls all around produced in me a very different feeling than it used to. A year before I could not imagine anything better than escaping those walls; now I couldn’t help but enjoy their strong arms encircling me in safety. I could take pleasure in them now as I could not before, especially since I hadn’t seen them in a year’s time. My hometown of Lathbury was so different, all out in the open, lounging at the edge of the cliffs with room to grow and expand wher
ever it wanted to. I wondered if I had misjudged these walls as something to fear rather than embrace. When you get what you wish for, it’s never quite what you think it will be.

  And yet, despite the comfort of the walls, I also wondered what I would find in the Dark Hills, past where I could see. I wondered what lay in the mist beyond Fenwick Forest, if anything at all. The adventurer in me dreamed of escaping once again, only this time I would go much farther, past where our kingdom ended, into lands that only Warvold had traveled and explored.

  My daydreaming got me to thinking about the library and my old chair, so I stepped down from the windowsill and headed there. The door to the library was open so I walked in and smelled that old familiar scent of books, heard the creaking of the floors, and saw the twisting, turning rows of shelves. These things made Bridewell feel like home again, like somewhere I belonged.

  “Who’s visiting?” came a voice from the library office, the messy little room where Grayson spent most of his time mending books and dreaming of strawberry jam.

  “It’s only me, Grayson,” I said. “Just coming to browse and sit a spell before it gets too hot.” I’d already seen him at dinner the night before so there was no need for a grand entrance.

  Grayson peered around the corner of his office and smiled at me. He was the same plump and happy person I’d left behind the previous summer.

  “It’s so good to have you back in the library, Alexa. Things have been a mite boring around here in your absence. Maybe you can liven things up a bit.” Grayson looked at me sideways, thinking about what he’d said, then added, “Just don’t liven things up too much, agreed?” I nodded and smiled, then slowly made my way deeper into the cavernous library.

  Walking along the dusty rows of books, my finger scanning the titles, I was struck by the feeling of routine creeping into my bones. The floor still made the same noises as I walked the winding pathway through the library to my favorite chair in the hidden corner, surrounded by towering shelves of books. I tidied the shelves on my way, making for a long meandering journey down many of the aisles. When I arrived at the place where my chair sat I stopped at the windowsill and looked at the wall staring back at me — a blank, unmoving mass of rock brought to life only by the green ivy climbing up and over its top.

  My gaze fell on the chair, and I was tempted to move it away and try to open the secret door behind it. I could sneak down into the tunnels below and make my escape into the wild. I could run free. But it would be no use. My father had taken the door’s silver key from me and had forbidden me from ever going into the tunnels again. So instead I flopped down in the chair and looked at the books on the shelf next to me. I’d seen them all before and had read and enjoyed many of them. But this time I was looking for one in particular — the one I’d dropped down into the opening behind the secret door last summer, the one called Adventures at the Border of the Tenth City. I searched all along the rows of books, moving some out and nudging others in to straighten them perfectly on the shelf. I finally found the book and pulled it out, then settled into the chair and put my feet up on the old wooden box that always served as my footrest.

  I flipped open the book and began reading, the breeze outside the window making the ivy leaves along the wall dance and sing as only leaves can do.

  And then I heard a different noise. A strange noise. It was a faint, almost unnoticeable, knocking.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  I looked all around, then stood up with the book in my hand and leaned out the window to listen for the sound again.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  Louder now, but not from outside. I turned and faced the shelves of books and remained very still. Knock, knock, knock.

  The book I held slipped out of my hand and fell to the floor with a pop. I remained motionless, not even breathing.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  The sound was coming from behind my chair, from the other side of the secret door.

  CHAPTER 2

  AN UNEXPECTED MESSAGE

  I walked back through the library, crisscrossing down several aisles, listening for Grayson to see if he was anywhere nearby. Finding no one, I quickly returned to my chair and began pulling it away from the wall as quietly as I could. Even though I was a year older, I was still as scrawny as ever, hardly a muscle on my bony little arms, and it took all my effort to wrench the chair away from the secret door. I crouched down and listened. Was I hearing things? I started to think I was so desperate for adventure that I’d made up the knocking in my head. But then I heard a soft click and the little door swung in slowly on squeaky hinges, revealing only darkness inside.

  I held back, too afraid to peer inside. Then a tiny head popped out into the room, accompanied by a high-pitched voice I knew well.

  “I was beginning to wonder if you’d leave me hanging here all morning.” It was Yipes, dangling on the old ladder that led down into the darkness, a big grin on his small face.

  “Yipes!” I said. “What on earth are you doing in there? I can’t believe it’s you!”

  He popped out of the tunnel and crouched down next to me behind the chair, then put his finger to his lips.

  “Shhhhhhh. There’s no telling who might be milling about the library,” he whispered.

  “But why are you sneaking around in the old tunnels?” I asked.

  He crawled up the back of the chair, scaled one of the tall bookshelves, and disappeared over the top. I could hear him hop from one shelf to another, a quiet, almost imperceptible flitting of his feet. I stayed behind the chair, staring at the shelf he’d disappeared over the top of, wondering where he’d gone and when he might return.

  “You can come out now.” It was Yipes, sitting on the windowsill behind me. His voice startled me.

  “Must you sneak up on me like that? You’re worse than Murphy with his slinking around.”

  “He and I have an agreement,” he answered. “It’s just too much fun startling you not to try it whenever possible. In any case, Grayson has gone off to the kitchen and the library is empty for the moment. We can talk in peace.”

  I moved around to the front of the chair and sat down facing the window where Yipes sat on his feet, ready to spring to life should he hear even the smallest disturbance in the library. No matter how many times I saw him, I was always taken aback at how tiny he was. His deeply tanned face was worn and friendly, and he had a smile beneath a pointy little nose that gave away how happy he was to see me.

  “It’s wonderful to see you, but you shouldn’t be sneaking around down there in the tunnels,” I said. “They send guards, you know, every hour or so, to make sure people aren’t creeping around where they shouldn’t be.”

  Pervis had long ago devised an entrance from within the courtyard, housed in a small stone room, leading down into the tunnels. He’d spent days and days going from chamber to chamber, making sure no one was hiding. The guards knew every way in or out, all of which they had already permanently blocked.

  “I don’t understand how you even got in there,” I continued. “I thought Pervis had sealed off the tunnels from the outside.”

  Yipes smiled mischievously and leaned closer to me.

  “There is still a way for those of us who are small enough.” He seemed quite proud of himself, and I was all of a sudden very interested in hearing more about this secret exit and where it might lead.

  “There’s something important I need to tell you,” Yipes went on. He took one last look around, leaning his head from side to side to listen carefully for any noise. “When you were only a few years old, after Renny died, Warvold went on a journey. He was away for quite a long time and nobody knew where he went. When he returned he stopped in to see me, not long after I’d made my home in the wild. He seemed concerned in a way I’d never known him to be, and he gave me something I was to take special care of.”

  Yipes opened up his vest and dug his little hand inside, fishing around for something. He pulled out a very old and pitiful-looking
envelope and held it out to me. The envelope was dirty and torn at the edges, and the writing on the front was smudged with a dried red substance, probably wine from a glass spilled long ago. On the outside were scribbled these eight words:

  For Alexa Daley, one year after I’ve gone

  I moved into the light of the window and stood next to Yipes. It felt very strange to be holding a message from Warvold. Just hearing his and Renny’s names sent shivers of excitement through my bones. But there was another emotion as well. It was odd, but whenever I heard the names of Renny or Warvold, I felt an unusually strong longing to be with them once again.

  “Why didn’t you give this to me sooner? He’s been dead for a year already,” I asked.

  Yipes shifted back and forth on his feet and looked away from me before answering.

  “It’s only just been a year since his death,” he said. “As you can see by the letter, it says to wait a year. I promise you it was hard not to give it to you sooner. I spent many a night holding it by candlelight trying to read what it says, but the envelope was too thick.”

  He paused and scratched at his knees.

  “In any case, it’s in your hand now,” he said, “so you had best open it up and see what it says. I have a feeling the time has come for something he intended you to do.”

  I looked at the envelope, my hand shaking as I held it, and a thousand thoughts ran through my head about what it might contain. I turned it over and carefully tore at the wax seal. Inside was a piece of yellowed paper, folded at the center and ragged on the edges. There was also a smaller envelope enclosed, addressed to my father. I set the smaller envelope aside, opened the first sheet of paper, and began reading aloud.

  Alexa,

  I have known Yipes for quite some time and he was the only one I could trust with this letter. There is much you need to know but only a little that I can tell you now. If I told you everything I’m afraid you wouldn’t have enough courage to undertake what you must, and so I’ll only tell you one thing to get you on your way.