Gabriel Finley and the Raven’s Riddle Read online

  “Now, now, Trudy,” said Aunt Jaz.

  Gabriel retreated to the laundry room to tell Paladin what had happened. The raven already knew what Gabriel was thinking. Yes, of course, we have to rescue Pamela! he said.

  I’d better get the parchment from the desk, said Gabriel.

  Isn’t that just what Septimus wants you to do? warned Paladin.

  Gabriel shrugged. If I can help free my father and get Pamela back home, I have no choice.

  Paladin tipped his head to the boy to show that he agreed.

  When Trudy was busy talking on the phone in the kitchen, Gabriel took Paladin upstairs and slipped quietly into the study. He turned on the light and heard movement behind the door. The writing desk, draped in a yellow silk robe with a purple feather boa, tore into the hall.

  “Here we go again,” groaned Gabriel.

  He followed the desk out, but it was waiting at the doorway. It stuck out one taloned foot, tripping him so that he tumbled down the stairs.

  Furious, Gabriel rubbed the bruise on his forehead, staggered back up, and thrust his arm through the balusters, grabbing one of the desk’s carved feet.

  “Look, Desk!” he said. “Pamela’s in trouble. It’s an emergency!”

  The mention of Pamela seemed to change the desk’s attitude. It flapped its little wings eagerly, as a dog might wag its tail at the prospect of a walk.

  Inserting the key, Gabriel whispered his question. “Now. How do I find the torc?”

  Raising the lid, he saw a piece of parchment tied with red ribbon in the middle compartment. He unrolled it to find a set of verses written in scratchy lettering. It was a riddle, all right. But at that moment, a voice spoke from the staircase.

  “Gabriel, what are you looking at?”

  It was Aunt Jaz. When Gabriel explained about the note from Septimus and his plan to rescue Pamela, her boomerang eyebrows knitted with worry. “My dear, are you sure this is something you should be doing?”

  “Well, I got Pamela into this mess,” he said. “Who else can help her but me?”

  Aunt Jaz nodded. “You know, that’s exactly what your father would have said.”

  It felt good to hear this. Perhaps, Gabriel thought, he could bring Pamela back and help free his father. That would be amazing.

  Aunt Jaz threw the window open. “I think it best if Trudy doesn’t see you leave. She doesn’t have a—”

  “Flexible mind?” suggested Gabriel.

  “Exactly!” replied Aunt Jaz.

  In minutes, Paladin and Gabriel were high above Manhattan. This evening the city resembled a mysterious amber jewel—streetlights glowed through a faint mist, all the traffic noise was muffled, and the air felt charged and ready for something fantastic to happen. The boy and his raven flew over the dark rim of Central Park, looking for the first building on the corner: One West Seventieth Street.

  A rolling mist circled the apartment building, lapping at its edges like waves around a lighthouse. On the rooftop was a terrace. Paladin alighted on its wall. A large fireplace glowed brightly through open french doors.

  Gabriel separated from Paladin. He shook his legs to straighten them; then Paladin perched on his shoulder and the two entered a room with a roaring fire and a vast stone mantel that seemed more suitable to the residence of a duke or king. The white raven had a very cozy spot on a brass perch beside the fireplace.

  “Welcome, welcome, welcome!” said Crawfin, his eyes glittering.

  Septimus leaned forward from a great leather armchair, his face red and devilish in the firelight. “Welcome indeed!” he said. “What a pleasure! Come in, come in!”

  As Gabriel’s eyes adjusted, he noticed the walls were lined with bookcases and framed maps. An enormous globe of the earth occupied the center of the room. It was immensely detailed—there were oceanic trenches, rugged mountains, and islands poking like barnacles from the seafloor.

  “Do you like it?” said Crawfin. “It comes in very handy in our line of work.”

  “What’s that?” Gabriel replied.

  Septimus poured himself a glass of golden liquid from a crystal decanter. “We travel the world in search of rare jewels, exotic medicines, and unusual creatures. Crawfin obtains them …”

  “… and Septimus,” continued Crawfin, “always gets a good price!”

  Gabriel guessed that Septimus probably did business with Mr. Pleshette, whose shop was full of curious items from all over the world. Something about Septimus’s expression seemed to imply that these objects weren’t always found in honest ways.

  “I’ve been wondering—why did Corax imprison you, anyway?” asked Gabriel.

  Septimus and Crawfin exchanged a cautious glance.

  “Let me assure you of one thing,” said Septimus severely. “I didn’t steal anything!”

  “And even if he did, no one can prove it,” Crawfin added.

  “All I did was sell him an item that didn’t work properly.” Septimus shrugged. “You don’t throw someone in prison for selling a broken vacuum cleaner, do you?”

  “You sold Corax a broken vacuum cleaner?”

  “No, a necklace.”

  “A very expensive necklace that you promised would grant wishes.” Crawfin smirked.

  “I hoped it would grant wishes. It was silver, just like the real one,” Septimus said indignantly.

  “It didn’t grant a single wish, but it did give Corax an ugly rash and a smell like rotten eggs. After he recovered, he threw Septimus in prison with your father,” chortled Crawfin, provoking a nasty look from Septimus.

  “So why did he set you free?” Gabriel asked.

  “Aha!” said Crawfin. “Septimus promised to—”

  Septimus closed his hand on the bird’s beak to silence him. “Never mind that! I mean to help your father escape, dear lad. Now, did you bring the riddle that reveals the torc’s location?”

  “That depends,” replied Gabriel. “Where is Pamela?”

  “Crawfin, send her in!” Septimus replied, releasing the white raven’s beak.

  Crawfin uttered an indignant throk, flew across the room, and landed on the handle of a door. It opened to reveal Septimus’s library, and Pamela, looking weary and disheartened.

  “Are you okay?” asked Gabriel.

  “Gabriel! Paladin! I’m so glad to see both of you!” she replied, running to them. “I’ve been so stupid. I trusted them when they promised to make me a raven’s amicus—”

  “That’s what they promised?” interrupted Gabriel angrily.

  Septimus put a hand to his chest. “I certainly tried!” He looked into the library. “Hobblewing! Where are you?”

  A raven with bent tail feathers and a limp wobbled unsteadily across the floor. Ravens were proud birds, but there was something meek and unfortunate about this one. It offered a riddle in a timid voice.

  “Whenever I come near, you wave, and yet we are not friends. Who am I?”

  “Hmm,” said Paladin. “Wave at you but we are not friends. I know! You are a fly!”

  The two ravens broke into a rusty laugh, then shared a quiet conversation. Eventually, Paladin returned to Gabriel, looking upset.

  “This unlucky raven was captured by Pleshette before he hatched! Never even saw his mother! Imagine the fellow’s life, Gabriel. Born alone in a cage, never learned to fly, no friends but that horrible shopkeeper. Trapped and alone with no companion! What could be worse for an orphan?”

  “Terrible,” Gabriel agreed.

  Pamela looked at Hobblewing. “Is there anything we can do for him?”

  Gabriel glared at Septimus, who fussed with his shirt collar. “Pleshette assured me this raven was one of his best.…”

  “This bird needs his freedom,” said Gabriel. “Let Hobblewing go, Septimus. And Pamela must also—”

  Crawfin interrupted. “You were going to bring us something in return. The riddle that will lead us to the torc.”

  “Exactly,” continued Septimus. “My boy, all I’m trying to do i
s get your father out of prison.”

  Gabriel wondered again how he could possibly trust these two.

  I don’t trust them, either, agreed Paladin.

  Yes, but I have to find my father, Gabriel reminded him. That’s the most important thing. If there’s even a chance that they can help us free him, Paladin, I think we have to take it. Don’t you? Wouldn’t you do the same thing if you could get your mother back?

  Without a doubt! Paladin replied.

  So Gabriel demanded that Septimus send Pamela home in a taxicab, but to be sure the promise was kept, he asked Paladin to accompany her.

  Consider it done, the raven replied. I’ll return as quickly as I can.

  Crawfin grudgingly agreed to give Hobblewing flying lessons. Although Pamela was glad to have Paladin escort her, she asked Gabriel why he wasn’t coming with them.

  “So I can keep my part of the bargain,” he explained.

  “What’s that?”

  “To solve a riddle, of course.”

  The Raven’s Riddle

  Gabriel was just as excited to examine the parchment as Septimus and Crawfin. The verses were written in scratchy script by the raven Baldasarre. He read aloud:

  “To those who seek this wondrous prize,

  My humble verse please heed;

  The mischief that this necklace brings

  Hails from an ancient deed:

  One thousand dwarfs raised arms against

  A mighty chieftain’s reign,

  But this bold king imprisoned them

  Beneath his great domain.

  And so they forged a kingly gift,

  With malice and invention,

  A torc that would all wishes grant

  To gain their swift redemption.

  To thee I say, resist its lure,

  Devised in evil plot.

  Around the staff this torc must stay,

  Its wickedness forgot.”

  When they had finished this part of the verse, Septimus’s forehead, which had been wrinkled to start with, cleared with obvious amusement. “What a charming little rhyme!”

  Gabriel frowned. “It sounds to me like a serious warning,” he said. “Like signs on a fence that say ‘Danger, Keep Out!’ ”

  “Oh, yes,” laughed Septimus. “I’ve always ignored those signs. Why, if Crawfin and I paid attention to Keep Out signs, we would be—”

  “Out of business,” interrupted Crawfin.

  Septimus rubbed his hands. “This raven Baldasarre enjoys preaching a lot of gloom and doom, but I wish he would get to the point!”

  “Let’s move on,” said Crawfin impatiently.

  Gabriel passed his finger down to the next part of the verse.

  “To find the torc, the seeker must

  Prove worthy in its thrall,

  Brave in spirit, warm of heart,

  And selfless, most of all.”

  “That’s me,” said Septimus. “No truer words were said.”

  The white raven looked doubtfully at Septimus. “If that’s you, I’m an ostrich.”

  “I was brave in my youth.”

  Crawfin rolled his eyes.

  Gabriel read on:

  “A daring task must be performed

  To gain that for which you yearn:

  Give back the druid stone to those

  Who pine for its return.”

  “Druid stone? It sounds valuable!” Septimus’s eyes brightened.

  “And I wonder who pines for its return?” Gabriel said.

  “It must be quite precious,” Septimus declared. “What a shame to go to such trouble to find it, just to give it away to somebody else.”

  “Maybe Baldasarre means that this stone must be traded for the torc,” Gabriel replied. “A selfish person would keep the druid stone and never get as far as finding the torc.”

  Crawfin smirked. “The boy makes sense.” Septimus, however, rolled his eyes and gestured for Gabriel to continue.

  “On pillars made of granite stone,

  Lady Justice rests her feet.

  Be sure to charm her resident

  Or, in despair, retreat.”

  “On pillars made of granite stone, Lady Justice rests her feet. Well, that sounds like the big courthouse building downtown,” guessed Gabriel. “It has pillars. The top of the building has a statue of a woman holding a sword and a flaming torch. I’ll bet that her ‘resident,’ whoever it is, lives behind that statue and has this druid stone.”

  “What sort of creature would live up there?” said Septimus. “Rather a high place, I reckon. Windy. Cold. Very unpleasant this time of year.” He and Crawfin shared a pointed glance.

  “I don’t know, but we’ll just have to find out,” said Gabriel.

  “Now, isn’t he a fine chap?” Septimus remarked to Crawfin. “Volunteering on such a dangerous mission!”

  “I didn’t exactly volun—” Gabriel said, but he was interrupted by a desperate noise—three weak throks. An exhausted raven appeared in the doorway, one wing drooping, his chest heaving.

  The Aerie

  “Paladin!” Gabriel cried. “What happened?”

  “Attacked,” gasped the bird.

  “Oh, no! Is Pamela okay?”

  “Home and perfectly safe,” said the raven. “Your aunt fed me a few slices of bacon, then sent me back to you; but on my way I heard the croak of another raven above me, so I landed on a branch. Two other ravens landed on either side of me, so I greeted them with a riddle:

  “From hour to hour I wander,

  As night and day go by,

  Yet always anchored to my home.

  Can you guess the reason why?

  “When I told them the answer was an hour hand on a clock, they didn’t laugh.”

  “Valravens,” murmured Gabriel.

  “Exactly,” said Paladin. “I took off as quickly as I could, but I could hear them behind me. ‘Get him, get him!’ they cried. I flew low over the rooftops, dipping between trees and washing lines, anything to dodge them, but they stayed right on my tail. Eventually, I found my way to the river. It was misty down there, so I hoped I could just disappear, but their eyes glowed yellow like flashlights through the darkness. One of them grabbed my wing, and I thought I was done for. Just then, a huge bird appeared out of the mist and the three began shrieking in terror. I’m almost sure it ate them, because one by one they cried out and then fell silent.”

  “Something that eats valravens?” repeated Crawfin. “What could it have been?”

  “Well, I didn’t wait to find out,” replied Paladin. “If it ate valravens, it might eat me. I got lost in the mist for a while, then finally spotted the lights of the bridge. Halfway across the river, I happened to look up and saw it above me—terrible wings beating the air as silently as a ghost. I couldn’t even hear a flutter from its feathers. And those talons! So big they could have plucked me out of the air and squeezed the life out of me!”

  “An owl,” said Crawfin.

  “How did you escape?” asked Gabriel.

  “I flew in and out of the bridge wires. At the end of the bridge I found a drainpipe just big enough to fit me,” Paladin replied.

  “Very wise, young Paladin,” said Crawfin.

  “I waited and waited,” Paladin continued. “I could see the owl’s vicious eyes peering from the mouth of the pipe. I’ve never been so terrified. Finally, it began to rain and he must have taken shelter somewhere. I know that owls can’t fly in the rain, so I took a chance and climbed out. When I was aloft, I heard him calling after me. The nerve! As if he expected me to come back and offer myself up as his dinner!”

  Crawfin cocked his head curiously. “Interesting. I should think an owl that big would have snapped you up in a few seconds.”

  “Yes, I know!” Paladin replied. “Mother always said that no one survives an owl attack. That’s my second. I don’t fancy a third one!”

  “I hope the owner of the druid stone isn’t an owl,” murmured Septimus.

  “The dr
uid stone? What’s that?” asked Paladin.

  Gabriel explained the verses while Paladin listened.

  “Well,” Septimus said. “Best get on your way and find that stone!”

  In moments, Gabriel and Paladin had paravolated and were soaring into the sky as one, heading south toward the big buildings where the courthouses were.

  The only thing I don’t understand, remarked Paladin after a few quiet minutes, is why, if Septimus is such a good friend of your father’s, he’s not helping us? He didn’t even offer to come along.

  Yeah, I know, replied Gabriel. They were perfectly happy to send us off alone.

  Before they had time to wonder what dangers Septimus had foreseen, they spotted an enormous courthouse down below. It had a row of statues on the facade at the top. In the center stood a proud figure of a woman holding a sword in one hand and a flaming torch in the other. Her carved feet stood on a pediment resting across a row of granite pillars. In the niche behind the statue’s head and shoulders, Gabriel spied a nest composed of very large twigs and sticks.

  As soon as they swooped near, a piercing shriek turned their blood cold. An eagle with a helmet of brilliant white feathers and a massive hooked beak peered over the statue’s head. Straddling the nest, it screamed another earsplitting warning.

  An eagle! gasped Paladin. The only thing worse than an owl. In fact, now I prefer owls. Is it too late to find an owl instead?

  Paladin, we need the druid stone, Gabriel reminded him.

  But I don’t want to be an eagle’s dinner, said Paladin.

  I have an idea, said Gabriel. Land over there.

  Paladin alighted as far from the eagle as he could, in the pediment corner. They were sixty feet above the ground, and an icy breeze pressed them against the granite facade. It was exactly like a cliff, which made sense to Gabriel; only an eagle, he thought, would make a nest in such an unpleasant place.

  “Okay, what’s your idea?” asked Paladin.

  The eagle was looking at them with a predatory glint in its eyes.

  “Remember Crawfin telling us that ravens are sometimes safer in human form?” said Gabriel. “You should merge with me!”