Jonah stopped in the archway and stared into the darkness. "Hello?" The echoes of his voice seemed to travel through a vast space. "Arthur?"
Stanza whipped past him and melted into the blackness.
Mavis stopped beside Jonah and planted her hands on her hips. "Stanza acts like she owns the joint, doesn't she?"
Jonah smiled. "Maybe she does." He liked having his cousin along in such a strange and threatening place. She had a way of making him laugh and putting him at ease. He felt like he'd known her a lot longer than he had.
Is this what having a sister is like?
Suddenly, a faint, golden glow flickered to life in the distant reaches of the castle. As Jonah watched, it quickly expanded, fanning out over walls and ceiling and floor. The light raced closer to Jonah and Mavis, revealing a hall that was even bigger than Jonah had imagined from the echo of his voice.
With one final burst, the light flashed up to the archway and washed over Jonah and Mavis. Jonah shut his eyes and turned away from the sudden change.
When he turned back and squinted into the now-bright space, he saw Arthur and Stanza at the far end of the giant hall, motioning for him and Mavis to join them.
Jonah moved slowly as he started across the huge space. He looked in all directions, gazing at the incredible surroundings.
For a big, empty room, it was breathtaking.
There was no furniture anywhere on the floor, not a single table or chair. There were no shelves on the walls or chandeliers hanging from the lofty ceiling.
And yet, the walls and ceiling and floor weren't bare. Not even close.
Every surface in the room was painted with images of people and places...medieval scenes rich in color and detail. All of them shared a common, sky-blue background and flowed together like one giant painting.
Knights in armor clashed in great battles bursting with horses and blood and banners. Colorful dragons soared and breathed fire upon villages. Storms lashed castle parapets with sheets of rain and bolts of lightning. A beautiful woman dressed in white married a bearded warrior before a priest in gold vestments.
Jonah had a second look at that one, which was up on the ceiling. There was something familiar about the bearded warrior.
He looks like Arthur.
"Ah," said Arthur. "Methinks they like the Great Hall."
"Well," said Stanza, "it is pretty great."
"I've never seen anything like it," said Jonah. "What does it all mean?"
"It's a history." Arthur walked to a nearby wall and ran his hand over an image of a young woman cradling an infant in her arms. "My history. From the beginning."
"Where's the part about you becoming a vampire?" said Mavis.
Arthur pointed at a corner of the ceiling. "Right there."
Jonah looked where Arthur was pointing. The painting there was of a teenage boy with red hair and mustache—and an old man with flowing white hair. The old man, outlined in a halo of golden light, clutched the boy and bit down into his throat.
The old man's white beard and robes were soaked with crimson. The boy's face was contorted in an expression of pure agony.
"I tell you," said Arthur. "That was the best day of my life."
"The best day?" said Mavis.
"What came after," said Arthur, "would not have been possible without that day."
"You mean these battles?" Mavis gestured at the images on the walls, ceiling, and floor. "All this killing?"
"Much more than that," said Arthur. "This land of Lyonesse, before it slipped away, was the heart of a great kingdom."
Stanza nodded. "Greatest there ever was."
"Thank you." Arthur bowed to her. "It never would have existed if I had not received the power of the feratu."
Jonah looked back up at the image of the old man biting the boy. "Who is that? Who bit you?"
"His name," said Arthur, "was Merlin."
Suddenly, a chill shot through Jonah's body, and the hairs on his neck leaped up all at once.
"Did you say 'Merlin'?" he said.
"Yes," said Arthur.
"As in the magician?" said Jonah. "At Camelot?"
"Yes," said Arthur. "In fact, you are standing in Camelot right now." He spread his arms and grinned.
Mavis took hold of Jonah's elbow, perhaps to steady herself. "Don't even try to tell us you're King Arthur," she said.
"I won't," Arthur said with a wink, "but I am."
*****
Chapter 28
"No," said Shakespeare. "You may not try to kill King Arthur for the bragging rights."
"Screw you," said Thomas. "You can't tell me what to do, Suckspeare."
The two of them soared through the red sky over Castle Camelot in their bat-winged states. They'd been watching Stanza's crew on the ground far below...at least until Stanza and the others had disappeared inside the castle.
Now, Shakespeare and Thomas were waiting for Stanza and her people to come back outside.
Not that I'm worried, since they're in there with King Arthur himself. This is nothing compared to the gauntlet of terrors that have stalked them until now.
And Stanza and the rest didn't even know the half of it, thanks to Shakespeare and Thomas.
Since secretly arriving alongside Mavis in the form of drifting mists, Shakespeare and Thomas had fought one menace after another behind the scenes.
As many dangers as Mavis, Jonah, and Stanza had faced in Lyonesse, the ones they hadn't seen had nearly claimed their lives as well. Back in the cave, as Rapiarre had pursued Mavis, other creatures of a different savage breed had also worked to snatch her from the shadows. Something with a million slashing souls, a master-demon masked in red-and-green-striped snakeskin, had reached for Jonah in the jungle. A dark abomination, inside-out and iridescent, had lain in wait near Castle Camelot itself, intent on hatching eggs in every member of the group.
Only the stealthy, bloody work of Shakespeare and Thomas had spared Mavis, Jonah, and Stanza from these threats and more.
If Thomas and I had not come to Lyonesse, those three would be dead by now and our prize would be lost.
Shakespeare wondered, though, if the results would have been the same if Thomas had stayed behind.
I have to hand it to the little monster. He fights like a Viking. Will he still fight as well, I wonder, if I fulfill my vow to redeem him?
"I don't get it," said Thomas. "Isn't King Arthur the other player you were talking about? The one who has the force and will to steal our prize?"
"Aye," said Shakespeare, impressed the boy recalled his words so well he could quote them exactly.
"Then if we kill him," said Thomas, "that's one less moron who might screw us over, right?"
Shakespeare banked and rode a gentle current, gliding higher on his leathery wings. He stared at a rank of airborne specks in the distance. The red sky, lit by the glow of luminous dust instead of direct sunlight, was easy on his vampire eyes.
"Things like this must be played a certain way, Thomas." Shakespeare continued to watch the distant specks approaching in an arrowhead formation. "With finesse. With guile."
Thomas zipped around him in a circle. "If someone's going to take something that's mine, I'd rather kill him first."
"Take a closer look at the cards and how they lie," said Shakespeare. "We can only find and unlock the prize with Jonah and Mavis both. When Arthur wins them over—and he will—they'll not be quick to cooperate with those who try to hurt him."
"So make them cooperate," said Thomas. "Force them."
"Torture has its place in our dark world," said Shakespeare, "but consider this. Do we know exactly what the rabbits must do to crack the prize? Can we say for certain that their state of mind won't matter, that duress will not prevent them from obtaining what we seek?"
"'Duress?'" Thomas swung around in another swift circle. "What the hell is that?"
"Being forced against your will," said Shakespeare. "Do you think whoever locked away the prize would not expect some
one to try to force it from its rightful owner?"
"No," said Thomas.
Shakespeare squinted at the distant specks, which by their bobbing motion seemed to ride on massive wings. Certain now of their size and threat level, he decided the time had come for preemptive action.
"I agree." With graceful strokes of his own wide wings, Shakespeare started toward the specks. "Do you see now why torture might be best held in reserve? Why the better course would be to drive a wedge between the players, so they'll willingly provide us with our prize?"
Thomas drew up alongside him. "Yes," he said. "I do."
Shakespeare was surprised. Instead of the obscenity-laced argument he'd expected, Thomas had accepted his opinion. Or seemed to, at least.
Perhaps he has a rationality as strong as James', just as I'd hoped, waiting only for the proper coaxing to emerge. That plays to my theory that one twin can be saved as well as the other, thanks to certain fundamental similarities.
Or perhaps he's only acting, so that I will drop my guard. So there's the rub. If he indeed is reaching out in earnest, I cannot turn away...but I must guard against betrayal all the while.
"So we don't kill King Arthur," said Thomas.
"Not yet." Shakespeare shook his head. "The time will come when we must move him off the table, though our power might not be enough to kill him even then."
"You think they could kill him?" Thomas pointed at the approaching formation of winged specks.
They were close enough now that Shakespeare saw what they were—not specks, but a flight of gleaming silver dragons. A dozen of them raced for Camelot, each metal monster nearly the size of the castle itself.
"They might kill our rabbits in the battle," said Shakespeare. "They could cost us our prize forever."
"The hell with that," said Thomas.
"That's why we'll stop them," said Shakespeare. "You and I will strike like bombs and drive them back away from Camelot."
"What kind of bombs?" said Thomas.
"Nuclear." Shakespeare grinned. "You've not seen me go all out yet, have you, Thomas?"
"How the hell should I know?" said Thomas. "Have I?"
"Think pure thoughts, Thomas." Shakespeare chuckled. "The following scenes may be disturbing for some viewers."
*****
Chapter 29
"King Arthur wasn't a vampire," said Mavis.
"How else do you think I achieved such great feats?" said Arthur.
With that, he suddenly charged across the floor.
Before Mavis could think to run away, Arthur launched himself into the air. The leap carried him almost to the distant ceiling, which had to be at least fifty feet above.
Arthur spun around in midair, sweeping his sword from its scabbard as he sprang out of the somersault. He dove straight down, headfirst, slashing the sword in wild patterns that left gleaming afterimages hanging in the air.
At the last second before striking the floor, he whipped around and landed lightly on his toes, just a few feet away from Mavis and Jonah.
Before Mavis knew what was happening, Arthur had snagged her hand. He bowed and kissed it, then let go and straightened with a grin.
"None could stand against me." Arthur slashed his sword through the air with a flourish. "All it took was my blade, Excalibur, and a solid suit of armor to keep the spears and arrows away from my heart."
Mavis shook her head.
This is crazy. I'm actually starting to believe him.
"Then why haven't I ever heard of King Arthur being a vampire?" she said.
"We didn't really advertise it," said Arthur. "I was discreet."
"How is that even possible?" said Mavis. "You drank people's blood."
"Blood was a lot easier to come by in those days," said Arthur. "They were violent times."
Jonah was walking in circles, scrubbing his fingers through his white hair. "This is bizarre. Even compared to all the other crazy stuff we've been through, this is nuts."
"I don't know, Arthur," said Mavis. "All we have is your word for it."
"And the word of another." Arthur did a sudden backflip, spinning three times in midair before landing with his feet on the hilt of his sword. He and the sword were balanced perfectly, the point of the blade resting in the mouth of a dragon painted on the floor. "Ask Stanza. She was there at the beginning."
Mavis folded her arms over her chest and looked at Stanza. "Now that's just crazy."
Stanza shrugged. "Yes, it is."
"So that would make you what?" said Jonah. "A thousand years old?"
"At least," said Stanza.
"You don't look a day over thirty." Mavis' voice had a sarcastic edge. "Thirty-five tops."
"Be that as it may," said Stanza, "it's true. We're in Camelot, and he is King Arthur."
"But how could you be that old, Stanza?" Jonah frowned and shook his head. "You said you're not a vampire, right?"
"I also said I'm not normal. Let's leave it at that." Stanza turned to Arthur. "Now can we get to the Garden of Tears, your majesty? Time's running out."
"Running out till what?" said Mavis.
Arthur smiled cryptically. "Wouldn't want you to be trapped here for a hundred years or anything." Then, he leaped from the sword and ran across the Great Hall. "Follow me!"
A hundred years?
Mavis and Jonah looked at each other with horrified expressions, then ran to catch up with Arthur.
*****
Chapter 30
"Tread softly," said Arthur, but he didn't really need to say it.
As Mavis passed through the doorway, she saw quite clearly that she had entered a place of great fragility.
Please God, don't let me sneeze in here.
The Garden of Tears lay before her, shimmering and shivering in a huge, vaulted chamber.
The Garden looked as if it were literally made of tears. Tiny droplets of clear, multicolored liquid formed blossoms of every shape and size. Each petal, each leaf, each stem, consisted of dozens or hundreds or thousands of tiny fluid beads, glistening in the glow that emanated from the walls and ceiling.
Beautiful. This might be the most beautiful place I've ever seen.
Arthur followed a path that looked like a ribbon of ice...but when Mavis followed, it wasn't the slightest bit slippery underfoot.
The path wound among rows of low flowers with small, round petals, shaded alternately pink and purple. Next, Mavis passed bigger blooms of yellow and orange that stood as high as her waist and wobbled in her wake.
All of them were made of clusters of tiny droplets.
"What is this place?" said Mavis.
"A library," said Stanza. "A secret archive."
"The tears of vampires are rare," said Arthur, "and they tell stories. These are the tears of the vampires who have lived in Lyonesse, and their stories are held within."
Mavis bent and stared at a pale blue blossom, as big as her hand, with a white, diamond-shaped heart. "How do you read these stories?"
"You taste them." Arthur drew a slender glass tube, a pipette six inches long and no thicker than a pipe cleaner, from within his rough tunic. He turned to a large, red flower and lightly dabbed one drop of one petal with the tip of the pipette.
Then, he extended the pipette toward Mavis.
"Stick out your tongue," he told her.
Mavis looked at Stanza, who nodded. Jonah just shrugged.
I must be out of my mind.
Mavis opened her mouth and eased out her tongue as instructed.
Arthur tapped the pipette, and Mavis felt a tiny drop of liquid touch her tongue. It tasted salty.
"Now what?" she said.
Suddenly, her surroundings changed. The Garden of Tears and the people within it flicked away, replaced by something new.
Mavis found herself in a cage, surrounded by iron bars. She kneeled in foul-smelling straw, and she was chained.
A heavy metal collar encircled her throat. Manacles were clamped tightly around her wrists and ankles
. The collar and manacles were connected by thick chains to a huge metal ring mounted in the floor.
Somehow, she knew that her name was June, and she was the star attraction in a circus sideshow.
Step right up. See the bloodsucking monster.
Her three children had been killed by the men who had raided her lair...but her husband, Gregory, had escaped. Her captors had called him a coward, but June had known better.
He went to get help.
"Feeding time, animal." One of the men who had kidnapped her walked into the tent. He carried a clay pitcher filled with...
Blood! I can smell it from here!
The man opened the door of her cage and stepped inside, proffering the pitcher. "Just what you're hungry for, eh? This'll hit the spot."
I haven't eaten in days.
When June reached for the pitcher, the man snatched it away. "Can't have it, animal." He poured out half the contents into the straw, just out of her reach. "Unless you beg for it just right."
June's spirit died. She had not thought she could hate the man and his friends any more than she already did.
And the worst part was, she was considering doing what he told her.
"P-please," she said, trembling.
Grinning, the man set the pitcher down just outside the cage door. As he turned, he unzipped his pants.
"I heard you people do things no human woman knows how to do." He dropped his pants and stayed out of her reach. "Heard you can please a man without even touching him. Some kind of blood magic.
"I want you to do that to me."
Seconds later, Gregory and three other vampires dragged him out of the cage and tore him to pieces.
"Thank God," June said as the tears poured from her. "Oh, thank God."
Then, just as suddenly as the scene had come to life, it vanished from Mavis' senses. It blinked away, replaced by the Garden, Arthur, Stanza, and Jonah.
"She's back," said Arthur, staring intently into her eyes. "Back from yesterday."
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