The Giant from the Fire Sea Page 2

  The rancher tripped over a clod of dirt. He stood up and took a step back. A ridge of mud surrounded him. He hopped out of the depression and walked around its edge.

  “A footprint, maybe? Well, yeh be a big one. A mighty big one, if that’s what it be!” He paced out the print. Four and a half steps. “So, yeh found a big friend ta take yeh cows back, eh, Otis?” He shook his ax in the air. “No matter. I can chop down a tree, I can chop down yeh big thiefin’ friend!”

  Willowhock searched for another footprint. Then he saw an opening in the thin patch of woods that surrounded his ranch. It was lined with mangled trees leading to the shore of the Fire Sea. The clearing had not been there when he’d left the day before.

  “So that’s where yeh went, thiefs.”

  The rancher looked down again at the huge footprint. He ran back to the barn and returned with a bigger ax. The giant’s trail was easy to follow, and in good time he stood before his rustler.

  “Ho there, thief,” he called up to the giant. “Bigger’n I thought,” he said under his breath.

  Newton awoke and sat up. He looked down at the angry farmer, now the second mans he’d come across. This one was slightly taller than the boy, although a bit more bent. His clothes were faded black and covered in dust. Newton bent forward and tried to see his face, but it was hidden in shadow beneath a floppy, wide-brimmed hat. The giant’s attention shifted to the long-handled ax held threateningly in his bony hands.

  “Ho there, thief,” Newton greeted him. “You are another mans, yes?”

  “What be a giant doing here when there’s no such thing as yeh?” asked Willowhock.

  “I left my home from across there,” he said, pointing to the sea. “There was danger for me I chose not to greet. I am Newton.”

  “There be danger for yeh here, too. I want my cows.”

  “Oh … You grew those little ox cows? Thank you for them. I do not know yet what I will give you for them. It will be something good. Something very good.” Newton smiled. Giants took great pride in their take-give.

  “You will give me my cows back,” said the man. “I don’t care what manner of magical beast you are!”

  “Magical beast? Fum. Not this giant. Just a hungry one.” The giant patted his belly. “And I do not think you want them now.” He laughed. “Do not worry. A boy-mans told me that you do not take-give. I will not do it again. Your ox cows will be made to balance when I have a balance to give. Would you have more, maybe?”

  “What manner a’ rat-spittle are ye sprayin’ in me face? Give me my cows!” Willowhock took a step forward and raised his ax.

  “It is wrong for the giver to demand his balance,” scolded Newton. “I do not know your ways yet, but I do know mine, which is all this giant has. Your balance will come, but you must not ask! If you demand it, you will not get it! It is how it works.”

  “Yeh not be in yeh giant land anymore. Yeh be in Willowhock land. If yeh take it, yeh pay when I say yeh pay!”

  Newton picked up a handful of boulders and dropped them in front of the man. Willowhock jumped away.

  “Here is your balance,” said the giant. “Accept it, or do not. It is all that I have. I cannot give you back your ox cows.”

  “Then down come the tree!” Willowhock charged forward and struck Newton in the ankle with his ax. The ax bounced harmlessly off the giant’s tough hide and hit Willowhock in his forehead. The man fell to the sand. He stood up, rubbing his bloodied head, and bent down to retrieve his ax. In a fit of rage, he threw it at Newton. The ax spun through the air, hit him in the back of his hand, and again bounced off. Newton picked it up and held it to his face to study it more closely.

  “Do mans use these little axes for battle? We giants do, too, but they are of a more bigger size.” He handed the ax back to Willowhock. The farmer hesitated a moment and then snatched it from his fingers.

  “It is my regret I do not know your Willowhock laws. It is my regret I ate your ox cows. You gave me your ax, and I return it. Let us be as friends now.”

  Abner Willowhock huffed and stormed back up the beach.

  “I will have my cows, thief,” he spat over his shoulder.

  THREE

  Gooses and Muddleducks

  Jat had arrived home very late the night before. The buyers for his firecoal were long gone. His mother was incensed.

  “Three waited for you. Three left with NO coal for them and NO coppers for us!”

  “I’m sorry,” said Jat.

  “If you are going to risk your life doing this, despite that I don’t want you to, you should at least not be doing it for nothing! Where were you? You were not running the tides in the dark, were you?”

  “No, I … got to talking to someone. He is new to … here. I lost track of time. I’m sorry. Will they be back? Can I go to them now?”

  His mother glared at him. “You have to be honest with me, Jat. I mean it! Were they after you again?” She reached out and lifted his hair from his face, searching for bruises or scrapes. “I swear, I will knock them all out! I don’t care who their mother is!”

  Jat pushed her hand away. “Please stop. It wasn’t them. And you couldn’t knock them out if it was. I told you, I was talking to someone, and it got late. I’m sorry, okay?”

  “Who were you talking to?”

  “A … man. He was lost. We were just talking. I told him where he could find … a bite to eat.”

  “I don’t like it. Don’t you have enough problems of your own without you helping strange men?”

  “Who said he was strange? Although … Mother, I’m all right! And I have the coal. I can bring it to them now. I’m not tired, too much…”

  Her features slowly softened. “No, Jat,” she said. “I don’t want you bumping around in the dark with a cart full of coal. They are coming back in the morning. But we will have to take less for the firecoal. For the two trips they had to make.”

  “But I can’t … I won’t be here in the morning!”

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t say yet.”

  “Then you’ll be here in the morning,” she said. “If I was strong enough to shovel it into their carts, I would, Jat.” She held out her arms. A return hug was part of his mother’s ritual since the death of his father. This one lasted longer than usual.

  “Okay,” said Jat finally. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” said his mother. “Now that I know you are. Jat … I was mostly angry because I was worried. We can’t do this anymore—have you risk your life like this. If your sister wasn’t here, I’d have gone looking for you. I almost brought her with me. We are going to find another way. Every time you leave, I dread that what happened to … And tonight, you came home so late … I—” She broke off and turned her face away from her son. This was an old conversation. And it was one that surfaced more and more frequently. Neither could come up with a solution that did not involve them moving away. But to where? And then what? Jat took his mother’s hand.

  “You know how careful I am,” he said. “And fast! Besides, I had an idea on my way home. I need to give it some more thought, but … I’m starving. Did you save me some dinner?”

  * * *

  Late the next morning, the three men, still grumpy at being stood up the night before, left with their sacks of firecoal.

  “Going!” shouted Jat to his mother, and he flew down the trail that led to the shore. Without the coalcart slowing him down, he was able to reach it in half the time it normally took. He raced to the cave where he’d sent the giant the night before. Newton was still there, deeply engrossed in covering the rock wall with drawings.

  “It’s you!” said the boy, looking at the artwork. “And the Fire Sea. And more giants. Are they your friends?”

  “One, yes,” said Newton. “The others, no. I was thinking about my home. It was not a place of great peace for this giant. But it was what this giant knew. Home. We know our home.”

  Jat looked away a moment, and then back at Newton. “This isn’t always a place of great peace for … everyone, either. It’s home for me, but I wish it wasn’t. You should do good here, though.”

  “Are things bad for you, Jat-boy?”

  “Jat. No. They’re fine. Are you going back?”

  “Haroomph … I can never go back.”

  “Can’t you just go back the way you came? Not that I’m saying I want you to.”

  “No,” said the giant. He traced his finger along his drawing. “Do you see where I made the Fire Sea? It comes to an end here, at a place of turning water at the edge of the Great Sea. Across that water, where I made these giants, here, is my home.”

  “Then you can walk back to it through the fire and swim home when you get to the water.”

  Newton smiled, then shook his head. “Giants cannot swim.”

  “I can teach you,” said Jat. “But really, not that I want you to go.”

  “What would happen if you sank? Would you not turn to stone?”

  “Never heard of that. You turn to stone in water?”

  “It is not the water,” said Newton. “Giants turn to stone when they are taken by a strong fear. Mans do not?”

  “No.”

  “What happens to you?”

  “I don’t know. We run. Or hide. Usually we shake a bit.”

  “Mans are small, but brave to not turn! We turn for a short time. And then we turn back, except when … when we do not.” A sadness crossed the giant’s great face. Two did not, he thought. He looked away, across the Fire Sea. Why do they enter my head now? He huffed through his nose. Because home. Home was where his family was. His parents—the two who did not turn back. He had traveled over an ocean of water and an ocean of fire, but back across that great farness, his parents still sat in Everstone. The dist
ance did not ease the shame-burden that slept inside him, so easily awakened. Newton turned back to Jat. They were talking about crossing oceans.

  “Water,” he said. “One fear that lives in all giants is that when we sink, we will stay sinked. We cannot breathe in water, and we would not rise to see the sun again. The fear of this turns us to stone.”

  “And turning to stone makes the fear come true. You are stuck, aren’t you? You’re afraid a real thing is going to happen, and the real thing happens because you are afraid.”

  Newton thought about this. “Yes, Jat. This is of an odd truth. It seems that if half of it is made to go away, the whole trouble will follow.” Newton had been working on controlling his turning. He was growing better at it—better than most giants. The secret, although he didn’t realize it, was to care less about what happened to you. This mans gave him a curious new way to look at the problem.

  “This giant did find a way for his boots to travel the sea, though. I tied a bundle of cobbletrees together and let them carry me. They do not sink, and I do not know why. They are of a greater weight than this giant, who would sink. A magic of a kind, maybe? But again, maybe no. Too often we call magic things we just do not understand … But when the trees reached your sea of fire, they burned. I fell to the bottom and walked here.”

  “So you can really breathe in fire? I know what I saw, but it’s still hard to believe.”

  “Yes. Mans cannot?”

  “No. Not at all. No fire. No water. Just air.”

  “Just air,” said Newton. “Just air is best for giants, too.”

  “Who is that big giant?” asked the boy, pointing at the wall.

  “That is my friend Pryat. He is big and strong. He likes to fight. Do you see that I gave him a smile to wear?”

  “That’s a big smile,” said the boy.

  “Yes. I want him to be happy on the wall. He was not happy when I saw him last. Pryat put himself in danger to save this giant’s hide. Haroomph … Yes, this giant’s hide was in danger because Pryat was an oaf, but an oaf can be an oaf and still have a giant make him smile on a wall.”

  “How about your mother? Or your father? Do they look like you?”

  Newton turned his head away. “That is not a thing I will speak of. It is a story that carries pain.”

  “I’m sorry. What’s that thing with the big nose next to your friend?”

  “Foomph … She is Marlite. She is a holygiant now. She is no longer a friend.” Newton winced and grabbed his belly.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Jat.

  “It is a pain. And it is of an oddness it strikes now, in front of the holygiant.”

  “She did this?”

  “No, but she did not stop what was done.” The giant wondered how much to tell the boy. Would he understand? Would his words bring him trouble here as they had back home? He looked at the image of Marlite. The pain was fading. It is of a relief this Marlite on the wall does not attack the giant who made it. And a foolish thought of my own that she could. Earlier, he had worked on her hair, added crisscrosses in the braid that snaked down to the ground. Newton had tugged on that braid when they were as giantlings, something he would not have dared once she became a holygiant.

  Jat interrupted his thoughts. “Are you okay? Do you need something? A healer? We have one in our village.”

  “No. It has passed.”

  “Good. I was thinking about something. Actually a couple things, but one thing first.”

  “And what would be that one thing first?”

  “If I brought you back to my village, would you eat our people?”

  “Perhaps. Are peoples good to eat?” asked the giant.

  “No, they’re like me. It’s what you call a bunch of … I don’t know, mes. I know you won’t eat me. But I want them to see you, and, well … again, I remember those cows.”

  “I would not eat your friends, or others like you … peoples or mans,” said the giant. “We do not eat things with two legs, unless it has wings. Do some of you fly?”

  “No,” said Jat. “Only birds fly. You can eat those, if you want. Unless they’re someone else’s. Some of us raise chickens and ducks. Some raise geese. But, again, if they’re someone else’s…”

  “Oh,” said Newton. “Giants eat gooses and muddleducks, too!” He was so excited, he pulled a stone from his pocket and drew geese and ducks next to the image of himself on the wall. Then he added a few more to join the drawings of cows in his belly. “This Newton is happy,” he said, pointing to his sated portrait. Then he patted his stomach. “And soon this one will be, too!”

  He stopped drawing and looked down at the boy. “Oh! Your Willowhock came to me. The one with the ox cows. He is not happy. Look. I scratched him into the wall.”

  Jat gasped. “You did what to him?”

  Newton frowned. “Not in that way!”

  The boy studied the drawing. “He looks mad. I told you.”

  “HO! It is how I tried to make him—on here, the wall—not the real him. On the wall him, I made an angry mouth line … it is like making the happy mouth line but turning it up the downsides.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He wants his ox cows. I told him they are gone. I told him that it is wrong to demand balance. To demand balance loses balance. It is how giants live.”

  Jat thought a moment. “You do remember what I told you, right? You can’t just take things without an agreement first. Well, you can, but it’s not how it’s done here, unless you’re a thief. We don’t have a lot of those here, but some show up sometimes…”

  “What is a thief? It is a word the Willowhock used. At first hearing I thought it to mean ‘friend.’ But I do not think that now.”

  “Thieves are people who take things from other people who don’t want them to take it.”

  Newton’s cheeks turned blue. “That is stealing!”

  “Whoa! Your face is blue!”

  “Taking things from other giants who don’t want them to take it is stealing!”

  “That’s what thieves do.”

  “But I told him I was of a plan to make balance. This giant is no thief!”

  “I know, I know! You told me,” said Jat.

  “How does a giant make not happen what has already happened?”

  “You can’t, I guess,” said the boy. “I have a question. Is giants’ blood blue?”

  “Yes.”

  “Huh. I thought so. Your cheeks just turned blue.”

  Newton ignored him. “Humph … I will still make the balance. I always do and always will. Even if the asker is rude.”

  FOUR

  Newton’s Peoples

  The boy and the giant set off for the village. At first, the people ran in fear when they saw Newton. Soon, however, it became clear this was not a monster on the rampage. They began to tag along, clearly eager to take in an eyeful of this mountainous creature. Newton smiled at them nervously. He’d spent most of his life trying to avoid bringing attention to himself, and here he was leading a parade.

  “Hey, Sootyboy! Come here,” shouted a voice in the crowd. Jat ignored it.

  “Who is Sootyboy?” asked Newton. “You? You have more names? Many giants have two names—the one given to us and one we choose later. Some just keep the old. This giant did not.”

  “Just keep going,” said Jat.

  Another voice chimed in. “We see you, Sootyboy. You washed your face today, Sootyboy? We can still smell ya! Why are you hiding behind that thing?”

  “Me? Am I the thing?” asked Newton. “Are those mans-boys your friends?”

  Jat glowered. He kept his eyes forward. “Keep going.”

  “I smell fire. Someone burning?” shouted one of the boys.

  Newton sniffed. “There is no fire burning.” He bent down and sniffed Jat. “You do smell of the Fire Sea.” The giant turned to the boys. “He is not burning. He just smells of the Fire Sea.”

  Laughter exploded from some in the crowd.

  “Keep … going!” said Jat to the giant.

  “Stop there!” shouted a voice. It was Constable Maurice Stoggin, or just Constable, or Stoggin, as nearly everyone called him. Stoggin had been charged by Lord and Lady Ellery to keep the peace in the township. If someone made trouble, it was his job to stop it before it became trouble for the lord and lady. He stood in the middle of the road, spear held at the ready. His three deputies lined up behind him, spears also raised. The sticklike one on the left was his son, Thumbridge. He was often referred to as “Scarecrow.” However, that name was only safe to use behind his back. Thumbridge lived to follow in his father’s footsteps. Laws were meant to be heeded, if not for the good of a person, then for the good of the law itself. On the other side was Budge, the baker’s son. His father had made him join the constable’s deputies to toughen him up. The constable didn’t want him, but the boy’s father was relentless in begging him take on his son. It became easier to give in than to avoid the man. Budge was often missing when he was most needed, which rarely mattered because he was rarely needed. And he was rarely needed because he was mostly useless. Newton looked down at the rosy-cheeked deputy and gave a sniff. Living above a baker’s kitchen steeped the boy in the sweet aroma of fresh breads. If I was to eat a mans, this one smells the most tasty. The giant shook his head. No! Mans aren’t food. This giant must be very hungry!