Yukiko and Braden had hardly spoken to each other up in their tree. She already knew plenty about him, mostly from her father’s stories, as well as from her own unlucky encounters with the Grudgings on past adventures. She also knew Braden was now out of sorts, and not himself. He’d been moping and sulking all day, with his chin on his chest, and staring into emptiness, his arms folded in defeat. These were not the ways of the Grudgings. No member of that self-serving family of dreadful hunters ever behaved in such a gloomy manner.
But, Yukiko supposed, anyone would feel as low as a boot-squashed mushroom if their father called them so many hurtful names.
Braden’s rascally face had turned glum, and became glummer as the day wore on. Big Bee even threatened to leave him there in the jail hut should some means of escape present itself. He then proceeded to call Braden every wicked name imaginable, from nitwit, dimwit, dipstick, and numskull to lamebrain, birdbrain, and chucklehead. From blockhead, goofball, boneheaded buffoon, and schnook to nincompoop, ninny-wimp, dingbat, dumbbell, dope, dolt, and dork.
“Finally, some peace and quiet,” Yukiko let out when Big Bee, after what seemed like an eternity, dozed off on the walkway. Under normal circumstances, she would have kept her distance from Braden, but she couldn’t help but feel bad about how awful his father was treating him.
She could see Digger. He was in the entrance of his hut, knees bent, his back against the doorless doorframe, keeping an eye on the Kappa. She couldn’t see Pam, though. The Happer girl was probably inside, or on the other side of the roof, avoiding Big Bee and his barbaric snores.
Yukiko’s stomach growled, even though Kenja and Kenza had already brought lunch. Twisted roots that tasted like earth, tangy tree saplings, and razor-thin pieces of undercooked boar meat. She had forced herself to eat it, but there was barely enough to be called a meal and swallowing the unsavory food had been nearly impossible with all the unexpected drama next door. For it was when Kenja—his feet on the lift—had leaned toward Pam, with two leaf-wrapped lunch bundles, that Big Bee made his move and lunged to grab hold of the Tengu’s arm. But Kenja, twice the size of Big Bee, shoved the hunter away and reeled back out of reach. This jolted the lift, which swung, swiveled, and bounced.
Both Tengus seemed stunned that Big Bee would have made such a bold attempt and come so close. The giants rattled off a frenzy of words, the meanings of which Yukiko could only guess at.
Big Bee’s eyes remained fixed on the lift, as if calculating whether or not he was capable of jumping that far. When the Tengus determined they were at a safe distance, they calmed down and tossed Pam’s and Big Bee’s bundles of food onto their walkway.
Big Bee glared at Kenja. “Next time, you’re mine.”
In the hours that followed, they saw a few Tengus flutter down to the forest floor, and some rode lifts back up into the trees. But for the most part, nothing happened at all.
Evening came with sour smelling breezes off the lake. Leaves rustled, as if struggling to shake off the foulness. More food was delivered, which tasted even worse than the night air. They were too hungry not to eat it. Grilled grubs again, this time topped with dry, bitter weeds. Big Bee wolfed it all down except for the grub legs that got stuck in his beard. He had refused every meal before that one, and hurled each bundle back at the Tengus. Now, Pam feared, Big Bee was on the verge of eating anything.
He roared at the Tengus for “Real FOOD” as they passed on their ropeways. He warned them—although they couldn’t understand what he was saying—that he’d push Pam over the ledge if they didn’t come back with something swallowable.
Inside their jail hut, Yukiko sat against the wall as Braden lay on his back, both gazing at the ceiling. Braden let out a sigh. He must be relieved, Yukiko suspected, Big Bee finally stopped hollering at him. Then out loud she said, “I was afraid he’d never give it a rest.”
“Yeah, he gets like that.” Braden pretended not to care. “If I wasn’t here, he’d shout at one of you, or the trees—or the whole forest.”
“You’re his first pick, then, are you?”
Braden didn’t answer. His face looked older and rougher than the faces of other kids their age. She wondered how he’d gotten that finger-length scar over his left brow. His nose was warped. There was anger plus dabs of sadness in his eyes. Life had treated him harshly—or so it appeared. And Yukiko believed that Braden—all day the target of his father’s rage—was now in need of some kindness.
Throughout the day, she had collected the waxy dark-green leaves used to bundle their meals. To pass the time, she had woven those leaves together into a leak-proof container, able to hold about ten gulps. As Braden silently brooded, she filled her leaf cup with water and offered it to the Grudgings boy.
At first, he didn’t accept it, and Yukiko was sure he’d wave her off. But after a long moment, during which Yukiko continued to hold out the water, and neither she nor Braden budged an inch, he sat up, took the cup from her hand, and sipped from it several times.
“Hey, why’s your dad so angry?” Yukiko asked. “You didn’t lose the mirror, right?”
Braden set the cup down on the floor and clasped his hands behind his head.
“Right?” she asked again, before sitting back down. “If your father wanted it so badly, why didn’t he take it? Instead he blames you. Why?”
Braden cleared his throat and explained, “He’s not shouting and cussing at me for losing the mirror.”
“Well, whatever the reason is, you must feel terrible—having to put up with that big mouth of his—especially since he’s your dad.”
“I’m the thief in the family.” He glanced at her to see if she understood.
“So I’ve heard . . . Everyone knows that. But what does it matter? So what—you couldn’t steal a mirror. No biggie, right?”
“But I did steal something.”
“You did?” But she already knew.
“My father thinks it’s in my bag.”
“And where’s your bag?”
“I dropped it by the river—before the Tengus caught us. He thinks it’s still in there—that I lost it.”
“What?”
“If my father let me speak—for just one second—I would’ve told him the truth . . .” Yukiko watched as Braden’s hand reached down toward the sole of his boot. “. . . that I had it here the whole time.” He pulled off and tipped the boot, and a boomerang-shaped green jewel slid out and fell straight into the palm of his hand.
Yukiko figured the jewel must have been the same one given to Inari-san. But she stopped short of accusing Braden of stealing it. After all, he’d suffered more than enough name-calling that day.
“Well, there’s no use fighting each other for that,” Yukiko said, unconcerned about the jewel. “We have to cooperate if we want to get out of here.”
“Cooperate? My father would never help you, or your friends. He’d just as soon leave us all up here to rot away, or get crushed by the Daitengu.”
“Daitengu? Oh, wait, I’ve heard of the Daitengu. Isn’t it just a myth, though?”
“My father was hoping to catch it. As a pet. Or shoot it. He says it’s real. It destroyed some village up in the mountains last year, he told me. Killed people—a bunch of ’em.”
Braden rolled the jewel back and forth across his knuckles.
“Why don’t you show that to him?” Yukiko asked. “To let him know you still have it.”
“Because he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut—that’s why. I’d toss this thing out that window before telling him anything.”
“Well, I have to say, that’s not a good idea, Braden. It might be valuable. Who knows, maybe we can trade it for our freed—”
Right then Braden and Yukiko jumped to their feet. Pam had screamed, “STOP!” And two Tengus were squawking in a panic.
Yukiko raced outside onto the walkway, and Braden followed. They could see Pam in the dim light. The girl was running in circles around her jail hut’s walkway, with Big Bee only a step behind her. Her wild hair was bouncing, and her arms were flailing about, seemingly for the benefit of Kenja and Kenza, who were rapidly approaching on a lift. Digger yelled at the Tengus with words Yukiko didn’t understand, though the urgency in his voice suggested he was warning the giants they were in danger.
Pam dashed into the hut. Big Bee stood at the entrance, barricading her inside.
“Leave her alone,” Digger pleaded.
“Don’t you dare touch her,” Yukiko shouted furiously.
Big Bee grinned and stepped inside, then seconds later came back out with Pam over his shoulder. He was holding her by the waist and, while she shrieked, suspended her out past the edge of the walkway, with only the dark forest floor below.
Pam screamed again, but this time with the words, “AWAY! AWAY!” which she meant for Kenja and Kenza, whose lift was slowing down and about to stop. Yukiko now saw that Big Bee was using Pam as bait, and that Pam had already realized this, which is why she didn’t want the Tengus coming any closer.
But Kenja and Kenza weren’t about to let one of their prisoners drop another to her death. Kenja, leaning forward in a crouch, was prepared to make a leap for Pam as soon as the lift stopped.
Yukiko saw the Kappa at Digger’s side. He didn’t seem frightened, or even uncomfortable being so close to a dangerous creature. Maybe she’d been wrong about Digger. Or maybe he was foolish to trust the Kappa. If the creature became vicious, she thought, she wouldn’t be able to do anything but watch. I can’t help them, she thought. Or myself. Pam, Digger, me—we’re on our own.
Braden must have felt the same way, since he still hadn’t uttered a word to his father, not even to try to save Pam. Or . . .
Where is Braden? Yukiko checked the walkway. He must have gone back in the hut. These cold-blooded Grudgings! They truly care only about themselves.
What happened next passed as fast and as frantically as a rock-and-roll drum solo.
Kenja leapt off the lift toward the walkway. Kenza jumped too, hooting and yipping as he swooped. One giant would dive and catch Pam if Baldric Grudgings let her go. But Big Bee had something else in store for them all.
At the very instant Kenja’s sandals touched down, Big Bee tossed Pam into the hut, pulled from his pocket an arrowhead—with as fine a point as a dagger—and lunged for the giant.
The Tengu reeled back and stumbled and then crashed into Kenza, who immediately sprung up into the air and with one hand grabbed onto a corner of the lift. Kenja also made a leap to get away, but his effort came too late.
Big Bee dived off the walkway at the giant and landed squarely on Kenja’s back. The hunter wrapped his bulging, snake-tattooed arm around the giant’s neck, and with his other hand he pressed the tip of the arrowhead under Kenja’s chin, making it clear, without a word, that he wanted a ride.
Big Bee was extremely heavy, and Kenja, with his wings, could hardly carry all of his own weight, let alone the hunter’s. The Tengu flapped and thrashed about, tumbling into the darkness, as Kenza glided after him in a spiraling pursuit.
Their descent was like a plunging whirlwind. Yukiko, Digger, Pam and Slithis listened to the giants’ grunts as they smashed into and shattered branches all the way to the forest floor.
After that Yukiko poked her head inside her jail hut. Braden wasn’t there. He wasn’t on the far side of the walkway either. Where did he . . . ? The thief escaped!
“Over there,” Digger cried out, his finger aiming at a spot below the walkway on which Yukiko stood. “I can’t tell what it is. The Kappa told me the thing shot through the air, before Big Bee went after Pam.”
Huh? Has Digger gone nuts? Yukiko lowered herself down onto the walkway, flat on her stomach. Or is that Kappa messing with his mind? Slowly she shifted herself forward, allowing her head over the side just far enough to peer under the walkway.
About an arm’s reach away was an arrow, and the arrowhead was deep and snug in the underside of the walkway. Three feathers were sticking out of the shaft’s other end, as well as a knot, from which a rope extended tightly downward. She remembered seeing a thick tangle of branches in the daylight—on the nearest tree. Bruno must have climbed up there with his bow. While Braden was widely known as the Grudgings thief, Bruno’s reputation as the family’s master of knives and arrows was equally notorious.
Bruno had tied a rope to the arrow, and then shot that arrow from the branchy cedar. His brother then slid down the rope, leaving Yukiko behind.
“Bruno must have shot another arrow under Pam’s hut,” Yukiko said under her breath. “Big Bee’s too heavy. He couldn’t slide down a rope; the arrow wouldn’t hold him. So he had to find another way—a Tengu.”
But I’m light enough for that rope . . .
Yukiko stretched out her arm to grasp it. But then, with a THWAP, the rope was yanked from someplace she couldn’t see and the arrow was jerked free. It tore out of the walkway, taking long splinters of wood with it, all twirling down into the pitch black.
Pam stuck out her head. “Is he gone?”
“Yes, he’s gone,” Digger told her. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.” She rubbed her waist where Big Bee had squeezed her.
“Braden’s gone, too,” Yukiko said. She felt as if she’d been fooled. She didn’t have to be nice to Braden Grudgings—after all, he’d never given her so much as a speck of kindness. Why had she bothered talking to him after all his father’s earsplitting insults? She’d even brought him some water with the cup she made—the same cup she’d sipped from with her own two lips.
He could have at least left the rope for her, or told his brother to leave it. Then she could have escaped and gotten help for Digger and Pam.
“They’re coming back,” Pam shouted, wide-eyed and peering into the blackness. Another lift, suspended from some unseen, creaking pulley, was rising up. “It’s Kenja and Kenza,” Digger said to the Kappa. “No Grudgings.”
When the giants’ lift was pulled up next to Digger’s jail hut, Yukiko saw blood dripping from Kenja’s wing, now missing more than a few feathers. The Tengu’s forehead, ear and neck were scratched up, and part of his leather armor had been torn into a limp triangle, which hung from the giant’s side. Nonetheless, Kenja was up on his feet like a warrior, and angrier than ever.
Kenza ducked into Digger’s jail hut, and they could all hear him in there, tossing around the sleeping rolls and carrying out a thorough search, most likely for any weapons or means of escape that Digger or the Kappa might have hidden.
The Tengus had lost two prisoners, and their king would be displeased. Any more escapes would surely land them in more hot water.
Kenza came out empty-handed, and he half shrugged at Kenja. They exchanged a few words, then peered over at Pam and Yukiko. Digger let out what sounded like gobbledygook to Yukiko and Pam but what was actually the Tenguish words, “Koraaneshal yah koraaneshal bih fruppon yah ashokro ishla. Ishla, ishla.” Which meant, “They used a long rope, over there, and there! And arrows. Arrows, arrows!”
Yukiko was astonished to see the giants respond to whatever Digger had said. After he spoke, Kenza got back on the lift and pulled it alongside the one they’d used to bring meals from the village. Pam stayed out of Kenza’s way as he searched her jail hut. The giant then inspected the damage beneath the walkway, where Big Bee must have removed the arrow his son shot up for him.
Kenza inspected the bottom of Yukiko’s walkway next. She expected him to search inside her jail hut, too, so in she went to pick up the leaf cup, not wanting the giant to crush it under his huge foot.
When she went back outside, the other Tengu, Kenja, glowered at her with mistrust. He eyed the cup but didn’t say a word to Kenza about it. Why would he? The cup was just a few leaves from food bundles.
Kenza circled the walkway, his rather funny face now a redder orange. He ducked into the hut and flipped over the sleeping rolls. He peeked inside the hollowed-out bamboo, from which water was dripping, and then ran his hairy-knuckled fingers over the tree trunk, feeling around for holes, or a loose chunk of bark, which might be hiding something. But not finding anything, he left the hut and hopped back onto the lift. After tying the two platforms together, he and Kenja zipped off through the darkness in the direction of the village.
“Pam, you’re safe now, from Big Bee,” Digger said quietly. “Try to get some rest.”
“Our dads are down there somewhere looking for us,” Yukiko added. “I’m sure of it.”
Pam nodded once, then asked, “Are the giants friendly?”
“They think we’ve—or I’ve—done some crimes.” Digger watched the Kappa creep inside.
“That creature,” Yukiko whispered loudly, “you’re not afraid of it?”
Digger didn’t quite know how to answer her question. “I can’t explain this at all, but . . .” He paused for a thought. “No, I’m not afraid of Slithis. That’s its name—Slithis. And it’s not going to hurt us.”
Digger, Yukiko and Pam agreed not to talk anymore that night. If the giants heard them, they might come back and do far worse than toss around sleeping rolls.
Yukiko went inside. She filled her leaf cup with water. She took a sip. And another. Then her eyes narrowed as she focused on something in the cup, at its very bottom. There was scarcely any light, but Yukiko knew exactly what she was looking down at, and, in a whisper, she said softly, “The jewel.”