Janko and the Giant: Chapter six
The story so far: After defeating the ogre Laktibrada, Janko has opened the magic book from the saddlebag that once belonged to Blaznivy, a wizard. Perhaps our hero should have kept it closed!
¦ CHAPTER SIX
The wizard’s book
When Janko opened the wizard’s book, the very first words he read were these, written in bold type:
IF YOU CAN READ, YOU MAY SURVIVE
SAY THIS AND STAY ALIVE
It was fortunate for Klinko the Robber, who certainly could not read, that Janko had taken this book before Klinko tried to use it as he intended. A book, for Klinko, was a fine source of paper for starting a fire. However, before he finished tearing out his first piece of tinder, Klinko would have dissolved into a fiery rain of unpleasant-smelling dust.
It was fortunate for Janko that he could read. It was even more fortunate that Janko, without even realizing it at the time, had learned to live by his grandmother’s proverb the one who listens is the one who hears. He immediately began to remember the many tales he had heard in which riddles are posed for heroes to solve. So it was that, quick as a bird can wink, Janko spoke the word that saved his life.
“Tento,” Janko said, which, of course, means “this” in Slovak.
The words of the riddle blurred into a cloud of smoke that flowed up and around and into the shape of a pen that wrote:
YOU HAVE PASSED, WISE SAGE
NOW TURN THE PAGE
Janko looked over at Kon the horse. Kon, knowing his former master’s taste for sudden explosions and nasty effects, had stepped back a number of paces while Janko was opening the book.
“What do you think of this?” Janko said, indicating the words on the page.
“Horses cannot read,” Kon said.
Janko decided not to point out that horses also cannot talk. “What else did your master say about this book?” he asked instead.
Kon carefully edged a little closer. “It holds his secrets. I once heard him brag that it can tell anyone what they need to know. All you have to do is ask the right question.”
Janko turned to the next page. It was blank.
“How,” Janko said, “can I defeat the giant?”
Once again, a cloud of smoke appeared. This time it formed itself into a red-tipped dagger that wrote the following words in blood:
THAT REMAINS TO BE SEEN
WHICH GIANT DO YOU MEAN?
“Is there more than one giant?” Janko said to himself. It wasn’t meant as a question, but the bloody dagger was quick to write a reply.
THERE’S BURAT THE DESTROYER,
THERE’S HLASNY THE LOUD.
THERE’S ZABIT THE KILLER,
THERE’S HRDY THE PROUD.
THERE’S VELKY THE BIG,
THERE’S . . .
“Wait!” Janko said. The bloody dagger slowly stopped writing. Somehow, it looked resentful at being stopped in the middle of a rhyme. “Sorry,” Janko said. “Velky, that’s the one. What must I do to defeat him?”
Once again the bloody dagger began to move across the page. The words it wrote this time, however, were quickly scrawled and nowhere near as ornamented as before. Clearly, the book was feeling petulant.
TAKE THE COPPER BELT
FROM THE TALL GLASS MOUNTAIN
AND THE SILVER CUP
FROM THE GOLDEN FOUNTAIN
As soon as the final word was written, the book slammed itself shut, almost catching Janko’s fingers as it did so.
Janko tried to open the book again, but the cover remained firmly shut. It was as if the pages of the book were glued together. No, it was as if the book were holding itself shut, as tight as a miser’s fist, around a gold coin.
Janko looked over at Kon the horse.
“How do I open the book again?” Janko said.
Kon shook his head.
“I’m afraid you hurt its feelings. My old master Blaznivy the wizard always said you should never interrupt a book. You’ll get no more out of it for at least a week.”
“But how can I find Glass Mountain?” Janko said.
Kon stomped one foot. “That is easy, master. This road leads straight toward it. It’s a long journey, but many attempt it. Princes and heroes and adventurers are always trying to climb Glass Mountain to get to the treasure on top.”
“Of course,” Janko said. “I read about Glass Mountain.” But even as a warm feeling of promise was washing over him, one of his babicka’s proverbs struck him like a bucket of cold water: No one knows for sure what the future will hold until they finally reach the end of a road.
“Wait,” Janko said. “If so many go there, how do I know the copper belt and the silver cup haven’t already been taken?”
“Oh, I am certain they will still be there, master,” Kon said, leaning his head down to crop some grass from the roadside.
Janko leaned closer. He had heard that tone in Kon’s voice before and knew there was more not being said. For a moment it was as if his grandmother were standing there before him, stirring soup on the stove and saying, “Pamatat vnuk, remember, my grandson, the little stone that sticks up in your field may be the tip of a boulder.”
“Preco?” Janko said, patting the horse’s shoulder. “Why?”
Kon raised his head and looked sadly into Janko’s eyes.
“Many try to reach Glass Mountain,” the wizard’s horse replied, “but none ever get there. And none ever come back alive.”
NEXT WEEK: None come back alive?