Jane and the Raven King Read online

  Copyright © 2010 by Stephen Chambers

  Cover and internal design © 2010 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover design by Liz Demeter/Demeter Design

  Cover illustrations © Ana Bagayan

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Sourcebooks Jabberwocky, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

  (630) 961-3900

  Fax: (630) 961-2168

  www.jabberwockykids.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is on file with the publisher.

  Source of Production: Webcom, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

  Date of Production: October 2010

  Run Number: 13730

  Printed and bound in Canada.

  WC 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  For Ellie

  Contents

  CHAPTER 1: Packing for a Trip

  CHAPTER 2: The Warning

  CHAPTER 3: Grandma Diana

  CHAPTER 4: Tea but No TV

  CHAPTER 5: The Storm

  CHAPTER 6: The Gift

  CHAPTER 7: In the Night

  CHAPTER 8: New Acquaintances

  CHAPTER 9: Severe Weather

  CHAPTER 10: Places to Go

  CHAPTER 11: The Keeper

  CHAPTER 12: The Way Down

  CHAPTER 13: Hotland

  CHAPTER 14: The Kangaroo

  CHAPTER 15: Applepatch Mary

  CHAPTER 16: Miles-and-Miles

  CHAPTER 17: The Purple Marsh

  CHAPTER 18: The Hidden Tree

  CHAPTER 19: Introductions

  CHAPTER 20: Meal Time

  CHAPTER 21: Thomas

  CHAPTER 22: The Fall of the Raven King

  CHAPTER 23: Laughter

  CHAPTER 24: Dark Water

  CHAPTER 25: The Raven King’s Vengeance

  CHAPTER 26: Tunnels

  CHAPTER 27: The Riddle

  CHAPTER 28: The Chasm

  CHAPTER 29: Handholds

  CHAPTER 30: One Champion

  CHAPTER 31: The Race to Stop Him

  CHAPTER 32: The Soldier’s Forum

  CHAPTER 33: Breathe

  CHAPTER 34: The Attack

  CHAPTER 35: The Return

  CHAPTER 36: The Trap

  CHAPTER 37: Run

  CHAPTER 38: Rachel

  CHAPTER 39: The Burning Island

  CHAPTER 40: The Triangle

  CHAPTER 41: Grandma Diana’s Flat

  CHAPTER 42: Two Families

  CHAPTER 43: Bombs and Birds

  CHAPTER 44: The Shelter

  CHAPTER 45: Hidden Treasure

  CHAPTER 46: No Choice

  CHAPTER 47: Claws

  CHAPTER 48: How the Story Ends

  CHAPTER 49: The Crater

  CHAPTER 50: The Old Wall

  CHAPTER 51: The Tolec Hand

  CHAPTER 52: The Stone Lake

  CHAPTER 53: The Forgotten Woods

  CHAPTER 54: Pancake Time

  CHAPTER 55: Mary’s Bargain

  CHAPTER 56: The Steel Mountain

  CHAPTER 57: Dark Magic

  CHAPTER 58: The Confrontation

  CHAPTER 59: Jane and the Raven King

  CHAPTER 60: The World Restored

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Back Cover

  I don’t believe it,” Jane murmured.

  Outside, a squirrel was wedged into a hole in the tree. It’s stuck, Jane thought, but then the squirrel popped out with a little black box. Jane stopped copying her spelling words, checked to be sure Mrs. Alterman wasn’t watching, and leaned on her desk for a better look. No, it wasn’t a box; it was a suitcase. At first, Jane was sure she must be mistaken, but as she watched, the squirrel opened the tiny suitcase and began arranging nuts and acorns inside.

  “Impossible.”

  Mrs. Alterman lowered her red pen and frowned. “Hm?”

  “Implacable,” Jane said. “I-M-P…”

  Mrs. Alterman said, “Silently please,” and then returned to her grading. Jane glanced back out the window. The squirrel was packing in twitches and nervous half-starts, as if he were rushed and couldn’t decide which nuts to leave and which to bring. He ducked back into the tree hole and returned with a scrap of blue fabric that he clutched to his furry chest for a long moment. Then he laid it carefully in the suitcase before closing the bag.

  The bell rang.

  “How far along are you, Jane?” Mrs. Alterman asked. “Jane?”

  Jane said, “There’s a squirrel…”

  Mrs. Alterman took Jane’s quiz to check the scribbled spelling words on the back as the kids came in loudly from recess. “You can finish the rest tomorrow. No more daydreaming like you did this morning. Get to class, Jane.”

  “But he has a suitcase—look.”

  “A suitcase?” Mrs. Alterman stepped closer to the window. The squirrel and his miniature black suitcase were gone. “Where?”

  Michael approached behind Jane. “Is there something outside?”

  Mrs. Alterman brightened. “Your sister has made friends with a squirrel,” she said. “A squirrel with luggage.”

  Before Michael could speak, Jane said, “Mrs. Alterman, you saw him on the branch. He was right there.”

  “Why aren’t you in class?” Michael said.

  “Thank you, Michael,” Mrs. Alterman said, and to Jane, “You can learn a lot from your younger brother. The first rule of success is punctuality. That’s spelled P-U, Jane.”

  The class laughed, and Jane went into the hall just as the other teachers closed their doors. The bell rang again; she was late for math.

  The day only got worse from there. After a lecture from Mr. Hendricks about how irresponsible and selfish it was to come to class late, she got a C-on her social studies test. Then she had to endure another language arts class, this time at the front of the class so Mrs. Alterman could smirk disapprovingly at Jane’s doodled-on English book and call on her for every other question.

  Between classes, Jane went to her locker alone. The inside door was stickered with a photo of a gorilla and environmental bumper stickers: It’s Not Easy Being Green and Save the Humans!

  Behind Jane, the leader of the popular girls, Alison, said, “What a loser. She doesn’t even have a cell phone. Do you know what an iPod is, Jane?” Jane tried to ignore Alison and her friends, but Alison continued, “So, did you see the new episode last night? Oh, that’s right—you don’t watch TV.” She nodded to a book. “Is that the stupid nature book you were reading by yourself at lunch? Is that worm on the cover one of your friends?”

  Jane said, “My friends are worms? Look who’s talking.”

  Alison slammed the locker, just missing Jane’s fingers, and the girls all laughed as they left.

  After school, Jane sat at the top of the steps outside the side entrance, and when the last of Michael’s friends had been picked up, he joined her.

  “So, you saw a talking squirrel?” he said.

  “Shut up.”

  “Let’s go get a soda,” Michael said.

  Two blocks off school property was a corner convenience store called Napps. It was a dingy sho
p across the street from the water treatment plant and Sadley Community College, and it sold everything from grinning green Buddha candles and switchblades to buckets of chlorine and soda. Jane checked her watch: 3:35. Their father wouldn’t be there to pick them up until at least four o’clock.

  “I don’t want to,” Jane said. “Dad told us not to leave the school grounds.”

  “It’s only around the corner. Come on, I’m thirsty.”

  “No.”

  “Fine,” he said and got up. “I’m going then.”

  “Michael…”

  He started walking, so she reluctantly went with him. When they crossed through the school fence to a residential sidewalk, Michael said, “So, you had a bad day?”

  “You could say that.”

  Jane watched the tree branches sway overhead, and her stomach clenched. The leaves rustled in the wind. She stopped.

  Michael said, “What’s up, Jane?”

  “Something’s wrong,” she said. “Don’t you feel that?”

  “Feel what?”

  “I don’t know.” Cars passed, and a pair of nannies walked by pushing baby strollers. They were both talking on cell phones.

  “Come on,” Michael said again. “I’m thirsty.”

  Jane nodded and continued with him to Napps, waiting by racks of candy bars and incense as Michael selected a drink from behind the sliding refrigerator door. I did feel something, Jane thought. I noticed something, as if part of the world were off balance or had suddenly changed to a different color. But what?

  Michael bought his drink and said, “Are you going to tell me about the squirrel? What did Mrs. Alterman mean?”

  Jane started to answer, then froze as they went back outside. A grizzled old man with white eyes—the frosted pupils of a blind man—was waiting with a fat German shepherd. The man wore a leather coat and blue cap, and he held the dog on a thick chain. Watching Michael’s soda, the German shepherd whimpered, and Michael took Jane’s arm as she stared at the old man’s eyes.

  “Do you know the name of the world?” the man said. “Did she tell you?”

  Jane didn’t move. “The name of the world—you mean Earth?”

  “Do you know where it is?” He hobbled closer. “They will come for it very soon—do you understand?” The dog flopped onto his back, belly in the air, paws curled. “Well?” the old man said.

  Jane said, “I’m sorry…?”

  “He would like,” the old man said gravely, “a tummy rub.”

  “Oh.” Jane knelt to rub the German shepherd’s belly, and the dog bicycled his hind legs, eyes closed as he wagged his tail and farted loudly.

  Jane laughed. “He’s cute.”

  “Finn,” the old man told the dog. “Mind your tail. She’s only a child.”

  “Finn is a nice name,” Jane said. “Is there something wrong with his tail?”

  “He’s a boxer,” the old man said. “Very dangerous.”

  “A boxer? He looks like a German shepherd to me.”

  “A tail boxer,” the old man said.

  “Jane,” Michael said. “Come on.”

  “There isn’t much time,” the old man said, and he smiled, showing yellowish teeth. “But if you follow me, we may still stop him.”

  “Stop who?”

  Michael pulled her arm again. “Jane.”

  The old man said, “The black heart of the world, the prince of justice made miserable, the broken one.” When she didn’t answer, he lowered his voice. “The Raven King.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jane said. “I can’t do that right now. I have to go.”

  “Please,” the old man called after them. “You are in danger, both of you. Finn—mind your tail…”

  When they’d walked a block, Michael said, “What is wrong with you? You’re talking to crazy people in the street—what if he had tried to hurt you?”

  “I’m sorry.” Jane shook her head. “You’re right.” But the nervousness in her gut was back, and now her chest constricted, making it harder to breathe. Something was wrong.

  “What would Mom and Dad say if they’d seen you talking to that crazy man and his dog?”

  Jane forced a smile. “I didn’t talk to the dog. You don’t think it’s possible a squirrel would—?” And she realized what it was.

  “A squirrel would what?”

  “I know what’s wrong,” she said. “The trees—everything is too quiet.”

  Michael didn’t understand. “Too quiet?”

  As they came back onto the school grounds, they saw their father, arms across his chest, leaning against his car. He was chatting with Mrs. Alterman.

  “Oh, no,” Michael said. “He came early.”

  Mrs. Alterman shouted, “There they are!”

  Their father gestured to the backseat. “In the car—now.”

  Michael looked at Jane before they got in. “Too quiet…?”

  “The animals,” she said. “They’re leaving.”

  When they pulled out of the parking lot, their father said, “How many times have I told you not to leave after school? Michael, you should know better—and Jane, I’m very disappointed. You’re supposed to—” His phone rang, and he answered it. “Hello? Yes, okay. Uh-huh…”

  Jane waited, and Michael sipped his soda until their father finished his conversation. We’re in for it, Jane thought. Dad would probably yell for the entire twenty-minute car ride home, and they might even be grounded. But when their father ended his call, he drove in silence for a long moment, then turned up the music on the radio. Michael frowned at Jane, confused.

  “Dad…?” Jane said.

  “Yes, sweetie?”

  “Are you…is everything okay?”

  “Hm?” At a stop sign, he smiled into the backseat. “Sure. I’m sorry, were we talking about something before my phone rang? How was school?”

  Suddenly pleased with himself, Michael said, “My day was good, but Jane—”

  “I’m sorry, just a minute.” Their father answered his cell phone again. “Oh, hi. Yes, I did see that email…”

  As she listened to her father’s call, the tension in Jane’s belly worsened until she balled her fists and told herself to calm down. Everything was fine. Look, there was a bird in that tree right there and more in the sky, and there was a chipmunk in a flower patch. The animals weren’t leaving; there was no squirrel with a suitcase; and so what if her dad was distracted? When he put his phone away again, their father began to hum along with the radio, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Michael grinned and enjoyed his soda. Jane rode in silence.

  At home, Jane went to her room to feed celery to her pet iguana, Iz. After he’d eaten, she let him out of his tank to wander the bedroom. Jane’s desk and chair were piled with papers, magazines, and softback books, the walls were covered with National Geographic posters, and a Chicago Cubs calendar hung beside her window. Lazy cars passed outside. Iz climbed onto Jane’s lap. She stroked his head.

  Michael knocked and came in. “What’s the matter?”

  “Dad didn’t yell at us,” Jane said.

  “I know, isn’t it great?”

  “What’s he doing now?”

  “Working on his office computer.” Michael smiled. “What will you do if your lizard poops on you?”

  “Throw it at you.”

  “That’s gross,” he said. “Do you want to watch TV? Come on.”

  She started to protest, then put Iz back in his tank and joined Michael on the living room couch. Jane didn’t usually watch television. But maybe it will get my mind off everything, she thought.

  Television didn’t help, and after the first program ended, she went back into her room to do her homework. I’m being silly, she told herself. Silly and stupid, that’s all.

  Jane stopped by Iz’s tank. The iguana was sleeping against the glass, one eye half-open.

  “Michael!” she called. “This isn’t funny!”

  There were words scrawled in the sand of the tank: he is coming. />
  But I didn’t write it!”

  Jane slammed the door on Michael, let Iz roam again, and sat at her desk to work.

  “You’re so dumb!” Michael shouted from the other side of the door. “I didn’t do it, Jane!”

  “I don’t care. Go away.”

  Jane hunched over her schoolbooks. Spelling words to memorize, twenty-two math problems on page 165—and she had to get that social studies test signed. What was that noise? She looked up. Iz was scratching the window. He’d never done that before. As she watched, the iguana slipped his claws under the window, jammed his snout into the gap, and began to wedge the window open.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” Jane said. She put Iz on the floor, then closed and locked the window. That was strange. Because it was still chilly outside, Jane’s window was always shut. Someone had unlocked it.

  Before she could start on her homework again, Iz climbed back to the window and resumed scratching, so Jane put him back in his tank and stirred up the sand to cover the words. Who is coming? she wondered. Who had Michael meant? It didn’t make sense. That crazy blind man with his dog? The old man had talked about someone else—some kind of bird. The Raven King, wasn’t it? That was nonsense, she should just worry about how to spell capricious. C-A-P…

  Jane lost track of the time and was just finishing the last math problem when the doorbell chimed. She went to see who it was and came into the entryway just as her mother and father opened the front door. Michael stood back with Jane.