182
" Which wasn’t all that good, if you remember,” said Oskar. “In the words of Izikk the Slapped, ‘I’m round as the moon and just as big—ouch! That hurt!’” Oskar laughed and turned his tired eyes on Janner. “Miller’s Bridge, my boy! Can you believe it? A legend proved true. A lot of that going on these days, it seems. Lost jewels, heroic deeds. I tell you, seeing the way you Igibys—Wingfeathers, rather—manage to survive makes me dare to believe the old stories are true after all. All those epics about mighty victories and brave kings. If I live long enough to sit at a desk again with a quill and parchment, I’ll tell about this day. I’ll put it down so that a thousand years hence some lad will read of the day Janner Wingfeather charged the Fangs of Dang beside his stout grandfather or how young King Kalmar’s skill with the bow drove an army of Fangs to retreat. "
― Andrew Peterson , North! or Be Eaten (The Wingfeather Saga, #2)
183
" Of course, my dear,” said Oskar. “I’ll write of brave Nugget, whose bark shook the trees, Nugget, whose love for Leeli Wingfeather sent him flying to meet a troll twice his size, whose might shattered Miller’s Bridge and saved the Wingfeathers from a Fang horde.” Janner braced himself for more of Leeli’s tears, but she didn’t cry. She worked her way to her feet and rummaged around in her pack for her ancient whistleharp. “Mama, will you get my crutch? I want to see the ocean.” Leeli limped to the precipice above the bank and sat. She took a deep breath and looked out over the Dark Sea of Darkness with a smile. The sky in the east blushed at the coming darkness. Leeli brought the whistleharp to her lips and played. "
― Andrew Peterson , North! or Be Eaten (The Wingfeather Saga, #2)
186
" Janner and Tink joined her and stared out at the sea, her song conjuring images of Anniera, feelings of home, of fire in the hearth. Then the song changed. It took on a sad tone, the notes bending upward like the croon of a lonely bird, and Janner knew Leeli was playing for Nugget. She poured her heart into the song and filled it with everything she felt. Suddenly, like a dream hovering at the front of his mind, Janner could see Nugget. The image swirled like a reflection in a pot of stirred water, gathering itself into clear, moving pictures of little Nugget running through the pasture, fetching a ball, wagging his tail as Leeli stooped to hand him a hogpig bone. The images hovered like smoke from a pipe, scene after beautiful scene of Nugget in all the stages of his life. "
― Andrew Peterson , North! or Be Eaten (The Wingfeather Saga, #2)
187
" Make what?” “The jump! It’s our only chance. Can you do it?” “But then what? What about Oskar? What about Grandpa?” Janner’s temper flared again. “I don’t know! Even if you’re the only one who makes it over, that’s better than all of us being caught! Can you do it?” Without another word, Tink backed up, took a deep breath, and jumped. He landed on the other side of the gap and rolled to a crouch. “Leeli, can you get Nugget to jump over?” Nia shouted. “I think so,” Leeli said. She leaned over and whispered into Nugget’s ear. “Here, boy!” Tink called. He clapped his hands and whistled. Janner saw Podo struggling with another Fang, this one wielding a spear. "
― Andrew Peterson , North! or Be Eaten (The Wingfeather Saga, #2)
191
" A deep sound shook the air, a sound Janner had heard before but couldn’t place. He looked left and right, expecting something to emerge from the trees, wondering for a moment whether he was hearing things that weren’t really there. But it wasn’t his imagination. Oskar sat up and said, “Ah!” Nia smiled, hurried to the cliff, and looked down at the ocean. Podo, however, groaned and shook his head, then crossed to the far side of the clearing and into the forest. Janner had no time to wonder at this because by then he’d seen them. "
― Andrew Peterson , North! or Be Eaten (The Wingfeather Saga, #2)
193
" The sea dragons. Far below, the dragons danced on the surface of the ocean, tiny, glimmering worms on a gray floor. Their voices rang through the air, across the great distance and over the roar of Fingap Falls. The dragon song mingled with Leeli’s, and the music pulsed with joy and then sadness. Janner blinked with wonder when he focused again on the images swirling before him. He no longer saw Nugget but a spray of giant waves, then something red and gold—the dragons. He had only ever seen the creatures from the heights of the cliff, but now he could see them as if he floated just above the surface of the sea, a stone’s throw away. They were as beautiful as they were fearsome. Their bodies shimmered with metallic scales that swirled with color. The dragon closest to him glittered orange and gold, like the strikes of a thousand matchsticks, but its winglike fins cycled between shades of blue. Its head was sleek and graceful, perfect for slicing through the water, and its eyes—big and deep and serene—sent a chill down to Janner’s toes, because it was suddenly clear the dragon knew it was being watched. The eyes rolled back, and translucent lids slid over them as the dragon opened its mouth and sang. Teeth lined its mouth, but not in the crooked, yellow way of the Fangs or the toothy cows; these were straight and bright and sharp as needles. Janner pushed his mind through the image and looked again at his brother and sister. Leeli’s eyes were closed, and though she smiled, tears wet her cheeks while she played. Wind stirred Tink’s hair, and he stared at the empty air before him; his eyes flicked back and forth as if studying a drawing that hung a few feet before his face. The song changed to a gentle hum, and Janner turned his mind again to the floating image. A dragon rose from the waves bearing something "
― Andrew Peterson , North! or Be Eaten (The Wingfeather Saga, #2)
200
" Janner rubbed his eyes and shook his head, still not sure whether or not he was dreaming. “What just happened?” he asked. “I don’t know,” Tink said, “but they’re taking Nugget to a cave.” “How do you know that?” Leeli asked in a quiet voice. “I’m not sure. They showed me. I saw them carry his body deep into the sea and into a cave, where they laid Nugget on a pile of rocks. The cave was full of bones, and the bones were covered with some kind of markings. Writing, maybe.” “I asked them to take care of Nugget,” Leeli said, “with my song. I told them who he was, what he did for us.” “I can’t remember what they looked like anymore,” Janner said. Tink stared out at the horizon. “I can still see them. Their fins—did you see the fins? They were huge. Eight sea dragons. Three silver, two reddish gold, an orange, and a blue. Then that last one—the old gray one.” He paused. “And I saw other things, Janner. Awful things.” He shuddered. “What? What did you see? Was it Gnag the Nameless?” Janner asked. “Gnag? No…I don’t know.” Tink shook his head and closed his eyes. A short distance away, Nia cried out. “Where’s your grandfather? Papa!” Podo emerged from the trees. The old man was winded, his limp more pronounced than usual as he made his way toward them. His eyes were downcast. “Boys, set up the tent. It’ll soon be too dark to see.” “Grandpa, something weird just happened,” Janner said. “The dragons— "
― Andrew Peterson , North! or Be Eaten (The Wingfeather Saga, #2)
