“I wouldn’t stand so close to the edge if I were you,” the Wolf warned Puck, who was about to skip a pebble along the glassy surface. “We’re still very close to the nightmare stretch of the river, and we wouldn’t want you pulled in by something nasty. I’d hate to go in after you again.”
Puck grinned and f lung the rock over the mirrorlike surface. I counted five jumps before something huge and scaly erupted from the water, 142/387
snapping up the pebble in a fine spray before sinking into the depths once more.
We moved back from the edge.
“How far is it to the Briars?” I asked Ariel a, who was sitting on a rock several feet from the bank, looking exhausted. Grimalkin sat beside her, washing a front paw. The Wolf wrinkled his muzzle at the cat but didn’t lunge at him, so hopefully they had gone back to pretending the other didn’t exist.
“I’m not sure,” she said, staring down the river as if in a daze. “A long way, I think. But at least we won’t get lost. We just have to follow the river…to the end.”
“Wish we had a boat,” Puck muttered, tossing another rock into the current. Another splash and a f lash of scales erupted from the surface, making him wince. “Then again, maybe not. Our last little trip didn’t work out so well, what with the giant eels and arrows and bloodthirsty newts. Guess we’re walking to the End of the World after all, unless anyone has a better idea.”
The Wolf sat down, his dark form outlined by moonlight, and gazed out toward the water. “There is another boat,” he said in a solemn voice. “I’ve seen it sometimes. A ferry, always unmanned, always going in the same direction. It never appears to stop, and the river nightmares seem unaware of its existence.”
“Mmm, you are speaking of the ghost ferry,” Grimalkin said, pausing in his grooming to look up. “One of the more common legends, I believe. There is a similar ship that haunts the Broken Glass Sea, a pirate vessel made of the bones of men. Or something like that.” He sniffed and shook his head. “According to certain legends, the ghost ferry always appears when there is need.”
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“Well, there’s need here,” Puck said, gazing up and down the dark river. “We need it, because I don’t want to go tromping down the river for who knows how long until we reach the Briars or the End of the World or whatever.” He cupped his hands to his mouth and bell owed,
“Do you hear me, ferry? Need! Here! We need you now!” Grimalkin f lattened his ears, and the Wolf ’s hackles went up as he looked at me. “How did he ever survive so long without something tearing his throat out?” he growled.
“Believe me, I’ve wondered the same.”
“The ferry will come to us,” Ariel a said, causing everyone to turn and stare at her. She gazed down the river, her eyes glazed, distant and a million miles away. “I’ve seen it. In my visions. It will appear, when it is time.”
“When will that be?” I asked.
“I don’t know. But it will not be here. I’ve seen the boat, and a long, long pier. That is all I know.”
“Well …” Puck sighed, grabbing another pebble. “I guess we’re looking for some kind of dock. Anyone know where we can find one?” There was no answer to that, and he sighed again. “Guess we’re hoof-ing it, then.”
The forest on our side of the river soon changed, almost as abruptly as a door slamming. The lights faded, and the trees became twisted, warped versions of themselves, branches creaking and groaning though there was no wind. The stars disappeared, and the river turned even blacker, ref lecting nothing but a sickly red moon, peering through the clouds like a lone bloodshot eye. I figured we were still in 144/387
the nightmare stretch of the river, and hoped nothing would come lurching up from those dark waters or out of the trees, both much too close for comfort.
“Don’t stare into the forest too long, prince,” the Wolf growled, as something rustled in the bushes to the side. “Direct eye contact will draw attention to yourself from the things that live there. And they aren’t pretty, trust me.”
“You mean they’re even scarier than you?” Puck joked, and the Wolf gave him an eerie smile that was all teeth.
“I was born from human fear and suspicion,” the Wolf growled, sounding proud of the fact. “Their stories, their legends, gave me power. But these are creatures of human nightmares, pure, mindless, screaming terror. They come crawling out of that river and escape into the forest, and the forest twists and warps into a landscape of what humans fear the most. If you want to meet some of these creatures, feel free to draw their gaze. Just try not to go insane when you finally see one.”
Puck snorted. “Please. Who do you think you’re talking to? I caused some of those human nightmares. I’ve seen it all, Wolfman. There’s nothing that can freak me out any—whoa!” Puck leaped backward, almost tripping over himself. Grimalkin hissed and vanished, and I drew my sword. On the banks of the river, holding a fishing pole in two white, longfingered hands, an enormous, wild-haired creature turned to stare at us.