“None would accept you, either,” the Arkower raged back. “Oath-breaker! You are a shame and an embarrassment to the Castle and your people! Say what you will about the Arkish, but we kept our promises!”
“I would not see my Castle and my heritage befouled by you all,” Bratsch ranted. “If I had to hide a hundred eggs from your kind or poison a thousand lakes, I would!”
Celie gasped. “It was you, wasn’t it?” She felt sick. “You poisoned the lake and the griffins, not him!”
“We both did,” Bratsch said, sounding like a whining child trying to avoid punishment.
“I caught him at it,” the Arkower said, sounding equally childish. “I caught him poisoning the lake, and he said that it would only make the riders sick, not the griffins. I agreed to keep it up, to help, thinking that if the Hathelockes were gone, there would be a greater chance for the Arkish to become griffin riders.”
“You’re both so evil,” Rolf said.
“Don’t be so high and mighty,” snapped Bratsch. “You wouldn’t have that pretty little crown, or the right to wear it, if it weren’t for me. I decided to send the Castle away with the remaining riders, and I decided to send it to your precious Sleyne, too.” He pointed a shaking hand at the Arkower. “And that creature is the one who broke the Eye and crippled the Castle.”
“To keep it away from here, and away from you,” the Arkower said. “And I have no regrets!”
“Then why did you steal the shard?” Bratsch demanded. “It rested safe in the Builder’s tomb for hundreds of years. Why did you take it?”
The Arkower’s face contorted. He looked as though he was going to swallow his tongue, and Celie got ready to slip away, figuring that they wouldn’t get any more truth out of the wizards right now.
“He tried to bring the griffins,” called a rough voice over the roar of the fire.
They all twisted around, looking for the source of the voice. A figure, soot-blackened, coughing, was emerging from the edge of the forest. Lord Griffin dropped his bucket and flew down to stand beside Celie and Rolf, taking up a defensive position. The strange figure had almost reached them when Celie realized that it was Ethan.
“He promised us griffins,” Ethan said, stopping just out of reach of both parties. “All the young men. Said we would get back the Castle, when we had griffins.” He bent over, rested his hands on his knees, and coughed for a moment. “He took the shard,” Ethan went on, his voice raw from breathing smoke. He pointed to the Arkower. “He tried to attract the griffins with it, royal griffins, but the only one we ever saw was that one.” He waved a hand at Lord Griffin. “And it just took the shard and flew away.”
“Good boy,” Rolf said, and reached out to thump Lord Griffin on the flank.
The king of the griffins gave him a patient look and didn’t move away.
“When he hid it in the stable, that must have been what sent the Castle into confusion,” Celie said.
“Which is why we must get it and the crown and ring away from here now,” Bratsch said, holding out a hand. “Now. Now. Give it to me now.”
Celie backed away from him, taking Rolf with her.
“You? Mad old monster,” the Arkower said. “Give the things to me, children, and I will take care of them.” He, too, held out a hand.
“First stop this fire,” Pogue said. “Then we’ll talk.”
“Tell your servant not to address a wizard,” Bratsch said to Rolf. “There’s no stopping a wizard fire once it gets started.”
“Did you start this?” Lilah demanded.
“Of course not, but I won’t try to stop it,” Bratsch said. “It’s better this way.”
“How is this being better?” Lulath wanted to know.
He had one arm around Lilah, and was also guiding her backward. If they went any farther, they would wind up inside the stable. Now that Rolf had awoken it, the broken back wall had healed, and there was no way to escape the low building. Celie wondered if they should duck back through the tunnel, but the wizards were both quite spry, in spite of being so old.
Rolf reached up and adjusted the crown.
“No one is taking anything from us,” he said in a voice that sounded like their father’s. “We are taking all this” — he swept out an arm to indicate the courtyard, the towers, and even the griffins — “back to Sleyne. Right now.” He looked down at Celie. “Ready, Cel?”
Celie nodded, trying to summon her own courage. She gripped the shard of the Eye in both hands and held it up in front her. Lord Griffin caught her eye, and she nodded at him. He let out a cry so loud and commanding that it scared them all, and the baby griffins started to mewl.
The wizards both raised their voices to argue, but were drowned out by the cries of the fleet of griffins that now came winging toward their king. Many of them still carried full buckets, and as Rufus came in for a landing he dropped his. It cracked open and the water splashed across Celie and Rolf, soaking them both.
“Hey, that burns,” Rolf yelled, his dignity forgotten.
“Rufus,” Celie said as the water sizzled through the rips in her sleeves and she felt the skin on her arms blister. “Where did you get that water?”
Chapter 18
When Celie spoke, some of the water that had splashed her face ran into her mouth and she began to gasp and choke. It tasted vile, and she fought the urge to vomit as it hit her stomach. She looked down and saw to her horror that the skin on the backs of her hands was blistering as though burned, even though the water was icy cold.
“The lake,” she choked out. “The plague.”
“No!” Lilah screamed. “One of you do something!” She leaped at the wizards, nearly dropping Juliet in her panic, but Lulath grabbed her before she reached them.
The two old men had drawn back, away from Celie and Rolf and the wet stones around them, and once more their ire had turned them on each other.
“You said I would have griffins, griffins to command,” the Arkower raged.
“You said I would control the Castle, I alone!” Bratsch screamed back.
“You’re both horrible and I hope you die here!” Lilah’s voice rose over the shouting wizards and the distressed cries of her little griffin, clutched to her bodice.
Celie felt dizzy. She put her hand to the bodice of her own gown, feeling the lump of Rufus the lion there. She leaned against Rufus the griffin, having a sudden strong memory of standing on the battlements with Khelsh, all the shouting, the threats, the blood dripping down her arm …
She looked at her finger, where there was a deep cut from the crown, now stinging two times over as the cursed lake water seeped into the wound.
“Pogue,” she gasped.
“Are you dying?” Pogue reached for her and Celie pulled away just in time. She was soaked with poison, and she didn’t want anyone else to get the plague.
“Rufus,” she croaked, realizing too late that her darling griffin was thoroughly wetted as well.
He shook his head as though a fly were buzzing around him, and made a strange mewling noise she’d never heard him make before, but he seemed unharmed. Well, she’d have to worry about him later, if she could.
“Pogue,” she said again. “Cut my arm.”
“What? Why?”
“Rolf, keep the crown and ring on. I know what to do,” she began. “Pogue, cut my arm.”
“You’re delirious,” Pogue said, panicky. “Should you be delirious so soon?”
“No, I understand,” Rolf said slowly. “Yes … we probably need … Pogue, cut my arm, not Cel’s.”
He held out an arm that was red and blistered like Celie’s, shoving his tattered sleeve up to his elbow. Pogue pulled out his dagger, but hesitated.
“Give me the shard, stupid little girl,” the Arkower said, edging closer. “Help me gather some griffins, and I’ll get you to your precious Sleyne. But first we must restore the balance of our world.”
“Our world is dying,” Ethan said. “It’s plain to see. Just go
,” he said to Rolf, making an encouraging motion. “Hurry.” He leaned closer. “I tried to gather some eggs,” he whispered. “They’re inside the tomb, safe from fire, I hope.”
But the Arkower heard him. “What? Foolish boy,” he said, and he backhanded Ethan, knocking him into one of the griffins crowding around them.
“I hate you,” Ethan said in a curiously dispassionate voice. “You’ve doomed our entire world and all because you were jealous of the Hathelockes’ pets!”
The Arkower turned to shout at him, but Ethan snatched up a nearly full bucket and upended it over the old man. The Arkower gagged and staggered backward. The griffins surrounding them moved out of his way and he stumbled and fell to the ground.
Pogue grabbed Rolf’s arm, apologized, and made the cut. Rolf shook his arm, scattering blood on the wet stones at his feet, and then turned and wiped some on the shard of the Eye that Celie still held, her fingers locked in place.
“Your world doesn’t deserve the griffins or the Castle,” Celie told them, pleased to find that her voice still worked. She felt very strange, and her vision had gone blurry. She rubbed her face against her shoulder, but her eyes still wouldn’t focus properly. “We’re taking them home with us.”
“Good luck with that, little girl,” Bratsch sneered.
“Rolf, do something,” Celie said through gritted teeth.
She had had enough of these wizards and their talk. She was frightened that if they didn’t return to the Castle soon, she wouldn’t be able to see her parents and Bran again. She was frightened, too, for the griffins: Had some of them touched the water? Were they getting the plague? Would they die?
Would she really die?
“I’ve got this,” Rolf said. He coughed. “I’ve got this … we’ll just …”
“Castle, take us home,” Celie said.
“Yes,” Rolf said, collecting himself. “Castle, please, take us home. And we want the griffins, the towers, and all.”
“Stop it,” Bratsch said. He tried to push his way through the crowd of griffins. “Stop that at once, and give me those things. They belong in the Tomb of the Builder!”
“Help us,” Celie said to Rufus. She turned her head and gazed blindly at Lord Griffin. “Help us,” she said in a louder voice. “Help us.”
The griffins closed in, forming a barrier between Celie and her friends and the wizards. One of the griffins squawked and moved aside to let Ethan through. With a stunned expression, he edged through the golden and brown and cream bodies to stand beside Pogue.
“Help us,” Rolf said. “Take us home.”
“Take us home,” Lilah said.
“Take us home,” Pogue echoed.
“Let us be returning to the Castle our home!” Lulath cheered.
Celie pulled the shard of the Eye in close to her chest. She was shaking, her skin burning and her eyes blurred. She was more terrified than she had been when Khelsh had threatened to kill her. All that running and screaming and shouting on the battlements had been almost unreal, and besides, she’d been at the Castle, her home.
Then she realized that this courtyard was also part of the Castle.
“We are home,” she said under her breath.
Rolf heard her.
“We just want all of our home in Sleyne,” he announced.
Instant warmth began to spread over Celie’s breastbone, flowing out from the shard of the Eye. It seeped into her skin and though the burns did not subside, they did pain her less. Her vision cleared, and the world stopped moving as though she were on a ship.
“Please, Castle,” Pogue muttered. “Just think of it: all the griffins, all your towers, all together and safe! Wouldn’t that be nice?” He sounded as though he was talking to a dog.
“Safe in Sleyne,” Rolf said.
The stones beneath their feet stirred and shifted. Celie braced herself, pressing her hip against Rufus’s side to make sure he wasn’t left behind. But nothing happened.
Rolf looked at Celie, desperate. “What do we do?”
Wizard Bratsch cackled. “It won’t work! Give me the Eye!”
“The Castle doesn’t like you,” Celie said. She closed her eyes in despair. The Castle wouldn’t risk bringing Bratsch and the Arkower to Sleyne.
“I built the Castle,” Wizard Bratsch snapped.
“Oh, you did not,” Lilah snapped right back. “You just be quiet!” She turned to Lord Griffin. “Get them as far from here as you can,” she ordered him. “We’ll wait for you!”
Lord Griffin leaped out of the milling crowd of griffins and snatched up a screaming Wizard Bratsch. Another large male griffin followed, picking up the Arkower and flapping away.
The stones began to rumble. Celie half lay across Rufus, fearing that she would faint. She felt an arm around her, and Pogue pulled her up to sit on Rufus’s back. He kept his arm around her, bent so that he was holding her arms up, keeping the shard of the Eye pressed to her heart. Rolf was still dripping on the stones, chanting “Safe in Sleyne,” with the ring pressed to his brow where the crown rested.
“Here they are coming,” Lulath called out.
The two griffins came swooping down and landed in the little space in front of Rolf.
“Now! Take us to Sleyne now!” Rolf shouted.
Celie’s world turned upside down. She didn’t know where she was, only that Rufus was underneath her and Pogue was beside her. She heard voices, human and griffin. She heard shouting and crashing and squawking and scraping and breaking noises. A furious wind that was both hot and cold tore at her hair and clothes. She thought she heard Pogue saying something to her, but couldn’t decipher the words.
And then it all stopped.
They were standing in the courtyard, surrounded by disheveled griffins. To one side was the stable, and across the expanse of yard were two hatching towers.
And beyond the towers was the bulk of the Castle, rising up against a familiar sky.
“You did it,” Lilah sobbed. She started to throw her arms around Rolf but stopped just in time. “You did it!”
“I don’t feel well,” Rolf said, and slumped to the ground.
“You see, Celie, we’re home,” Pogue said, his voice coming from a long way off.
She tried to nod, but her head felt too heavy. She was gripped with a sudden fear that the griffins would fly out of the Castle and hunt the unicorns, but before she could call out to anyone, she remembered that the unicorns were all gone. She shook her head to clear it, and it felt as though it would roll right off her shoulders.
There were more voices and shouting.
“My darlings,” Queen Celina cried, running toward them with her skirts hiked up around her knees. “My darlings!”
“Rolf! Girls!” King Glower was shouting, hard on his wife’s heels. “Pogue! Lulath! Praise the skies!”
The queen reached Celie first, and Celie tried to push her mother away so that the poisoned water wouldn’t get on her, but the queen didn’t care. She swooped down on Celie and covered her with kisses. Then she drew back.
“What’s happened to you, my darling?” Her eyes flickered over the others. “Oh, no! And Rolf, too?”
King Glower was hugging and thumping everyone, but when he got to Celie he froze. “Celia-delia,” he said in a hushed voice. Then he turned his head and yelled, “Bran!”
“I’m here!” Their brother, his official robes flapping, was running across the courtyard. “I’m here — Pogue, thank goodness for your sketches. You were right, my friend, it’s all just where you — All right there, Cel?” Bran asked, seeing Celie’s face. Then his eyes widened even further. “I see you found the missing bit of the Eye! That’s my girl!”
“Just look at her,” Queen Celina said in a shrill voice that Celie didn’t recognize. “What’s wrong? What’s happened? And Rolf is affected as well!”
“They are having the poison water, which is the killing of the griffin in the olden times,” Lulath said. “Please, Bran, be helping!”
> “There’s no cure,” Ethan muttered. “I’m so sorry. There’s no cure.”
“Who are you?” King Glower demanded.
“I’m … I’m … they said I could come,” he said, hunching his shoulders like he wanted to sink into the ground.
“He’s Ethan,” Celie said. Then she coughed. It felt as though there were something stuck in her throat, a chunk of hard bread or something. “He needed to get away from the wizards.”
“What wizards?” Queen Celina looked around at her children, her face taut and pale.
She had one arm around Lilah, and another around Lulath, since Celie and Rolf were both warding off anyone who tried to hug them now. There were smudges under her eyes (and their father’s), her hair was uncharacteristically wild, and her gown was crumpled, as though she hadn’t been sleeping and taking care of her appearance the way she normally would.
“Lulath?” Bran said. He was holding one of Celie’s arms up, his hands wrapped in his voluminous sleeves to avoid touching her skin. “Those books of Grathian herbs, are they still in your rooms?”
“Unless they are being taken to a place elsewhere while I am not here,” Lulath said. “Yes.”
“Good. All right, everyone, let’s get them inside the Castle,” Bran said loudly. “Lulath, run to your rooms and find those books. We’ll be in my rooms.”
“What is it? Bran, what’s happening?” Queen Celina let go of Lulath, who hurried away with Lorcan still cheeping from inside his tunic. “Bran, tell me!”
“This way, everyone,” Bran said, backing toward the Castle doors. “Griffins, too, I suppose.”
“Not your rooms,” Celie managed to gasp out. “The Heart. The Heart of the Castle.”
“Yes, all right,” Bran said. “Quickly.”
“Bran!” King Glower was anguished.
“They have blackblister,” Bran said, walking backward toward the Castle so that they would follow him. “It’s a rare disease that crops up in Grath occasionally. I remember it from a book of Lulath’s because it’s one of the few diseases that both humans and animals can get just from touching each other.”
Thursdays With the Crown Page 14
