“Arthur!” Lancelot rushed in, grabbed Luwella’s collar, and hauled her off the king.
Ector went to help Gwen. “My lady, are you hurt?”
Gwen shook her head, tears in her eyes. “He just . . . he came at me with that sword. I tried to use my shawl to shield myself.” She dropped the remains of her shawl to the ground, and Cavall could see how Excalibur had shredded it easily. She laughed, but not a happy kind of laugh. “I’m afraid it didn’t do much good.”
“Good enough,” Ector said. “It was fast thinking, my lady.”
Gwen stared at the bit of cloth. “If Luwella hadn’t been here . . .”
“It’s getting away,” Arthur insisted. He fought against Lancelot’s attempts to help him up. “I can’t let it get away. It hurt Gwen!”
“No!” Lancelot shook him roughly. Cavall bristled at the rough treatment of his person, but it snapped Arthur out of his delusion. “You’re the one who hurt Gwen.”
Arthur blinked. “I . . . hurt Gwen?” He looked around, first at Lancelot, then at Ector helping Gwen to her feet, then to Excalibur and the torn shawl lying on the cold stones. “Did I . . . do that?”
“Something came over you,” Ector explained. “You weren’t yourself.”
“But I was myself. I saw . . .” Arthur smashed the palms of his hands against his forehead. “There was a fiery animal. I saw it, just as I see you all here.”
“Nothing was there, Your Majesty,” Lancelot said, hoisting Arthur up now that he was more agreeable to the help. “I can take you to a healer.”
“No, I can’t. Not with that thing on the loose.”
“Arthur.” Gwen pulled away from Ector and took her husband’s face in her hands. “You must stop this, husband,” she said. Her voice was soft and full of worry, even though she herself still trembled. “You may hurt someone next time, and I’m terrified that person might be you.”
They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Cavall dared a glance at Luwella. Her hackles were no longer raised, but she still seemed suspicious of Arthur. Her gaze stayed riveted on the royal couple.
“Yes,” Arthur conceded at last. “You are right. I . . . I am unwell.”
“Let me help you to bed, Your Majesty,” Ector offered. “I’ll send for that healer.”
Lancelot took Gwen’s hand as Ector began to lead Arthur back to the room. She nodded gratefully but kept glancing over at Arthur. “Do you think a healer will be able to help?”
“Possibly,” Lancelot said grimly. “But I’ve never seen a healer cure a mind so deeply troubled.”
Chapter 14
CAVALL LAY OUTSIDE ARTHUR’S DOOR, LISTENING to the sounds of his person’s fitful sleeping within. The knights had put him to bed, but it would do no good. The creature that tormented Arthur would chase him into his dreams, where Cavall could not follow him.
At least, not yet.
Luwella had said it was possible. But she’d also said that he would need a fay guide to get into the Dreaming. He would need Merlin or Vivian to help him if his plan were to work. But even if he knew how to find them, first he would need to get out of the castle.
These thoughts whirled around and around in his brain so fast that he almost didn’t notice Edelm’s presence near him. “I have searched the catacombs,” he said slowly, as if not entirely sure he should share this information. “The secret passage out of the castle is there. I believe you will have no trouble passing through it.”
Cavall jumped to his feet, catching Edelm off guard. The old dog reeled backward as Cavall announced, “I have to go tonight!”
Edelm regained his balance and gave Cavall a quizzical look.
“Luwella says I can fight the thing that’s giving Arthur these bad dreams inside the Dreaming,” Cavall explained. “If I can get into the forest, if I can find a fay guide, then I can get into the Dreaming and fight the Night Mare from the other side. But I have to go tonight, before things get any worse. Before . . .”
He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of Arthur hurting himself or someone else. Or worse.
Edelm shook his head. “Dangerous enough to go into the fay forest at night. What you suggest, going into the fay realms themselves . . . the odds of you succeeding are even less than when we spoke of this yesterday.”
Cavall held his gaze. “Yesterday Arthur wasn’t swinging his sword at his wife and friends because he thought they were monsters.”
Edelm was silent a moment.
At last, he nodded. “Meet me in the great hall tonight after the castle has gone to sleep. I will show you the way out of the castle then.”
Cavall waited for night to come with so much nervous energy that he could barely sit still all day. When the time came for the people to head up to their rooms for the evening, Gwen held the door open for him, inviting him in. It was more difficult than he thought it would be; he so badly wanted to be by his person’s side. But instead he remained rooted in place as Luwella slipped into the room. Gwen waited, called for him one last time, and, when he didn’t come, sighed at him in frustration. Then she closed the door behind her.
Once she was gone, Cavall padded back to the great hall and sat under the long table while he waited for Edelm. He didn’t have to wait long for the old dog to appear. He wasn’t alone, though. Anwen trailed behind.
“I will only let you go,” Edelm said, “on the condition that you do not go alone.”
“I heard about what happened today,” Anwen said. “We all did. The whole castle is talking about how Arthur has lost his mind. Ector is worried about him. So are the other knights. The king’s problems are the knights’ problems, and the knights’ problems are our problems.”
Cavall didn’t know what to make of that. “I-it’s going to be dangerous,” he stammered. “I appreciate your offer, but I can’t ask you to put yourself in danger because of my plan.”
“And who’s going to stop me?” Anwen eyed him skeptically. “You? I’d like to see you try.” She stood up to her full height, which came just about level with Cavall’s chest. “Besides, you need someone to watch your back.”
“It turns out I could not talk her out of this any better than I could talk you out of it,” Edelm chuckled.
Cavall was touched, more than he could say, so with a sigh he said, “If you’re sure.”
“We’re sure,” Anwen said. “Let’s get going already.”
Edelm stepped forward. “Follow me.”
He led them to the strange little alcove Cavall had seen the other day when exploring with Anwen. The stairs, with their stones older than the rest of the castle, led downward. Cavall peered down into the darkness, and a chilled breeze answered back with a faint, eerie whistling. Edelm went first, then Anwen, waddling after. Cavall hesitated.
Anwen glanced over her shoulder. “Are you coming?”
Cavall shook his head to snap himself out of these thoughts. “I’m right behind you,” he called. Then he, too, went after them.
The foundations of the castle extended far underground. The stairs went down and down and down, finally leveling off into an endless tunnel where hardly any light remained. The stones were damp and furry with moss. Smells were harder to distinguish down here because everything blurred together and the scent of mold hung heavily in the air. Sounds echoed. Water dripped from the ceiling, and strange noises like footsteps rang off the stairwell. Cavall cocked his head but couldn’t determine where these footsteps came from.
“Don’t listen too hard,” Edelm advised. “You won’t find the people they belong to. Those are the echoes of people from distant ages.”
“I don’t understand,” Cavall admitted.
Anwen nudged up beside him. “He means they’re long dead.”
“How can dead people still make noise?” Cavall paused to listen to the muffled sound of footsteps receding away from them down the long tunnel. “Is it magic?”
“Not exactly,” Edelm said. “Have you ever tried staring into the
sun?”
“Yes. Once. It hurt.”
“And did you see strange shapes afterward, even when you closed your eyes?”
“Yes.”
“It’s like that with people. Sometimes they burn impressions into our world when they pass, like sounds or shapes. That’s what you are hearing now—the impressions they leave behind.”
As they rounded a corner, he saw a person standing in front of a barred gate, which surprised him because the people in the castle were asleep this late at night. The figure had long hair on his head and face. Blue markings covered the person’s skin, his arms and legs and shoulders. The swirling patterns glowed faintly in the darkness. His head drooped down, and he didn’t seem to notice the dogs at all. Edelm didn’t notice the person either, because he kept walking past. Anwen followed as if she, too, didn’t notice the person at all.
Cavall paused in front of the person, wondering if he was maybe hurt. He held a long, pointed stick in one hand. The end dripped with blood, though Cavall noticed it didn’t smell like blood—it didn’t smell like anything. Just like the person didn’t smell like anything.
Slowly, the person lifted his chin, and his eyes landed on Cavall. They were completely white. The person regarded him solemnly for a moment. Then, a smile appeared on his face and a hand reached out. “Good dog,” a voice said, even though the person didn’t move his lips. The hand landed on Cavall’s head, but instead of feeling solid warmth, it was as if a cold mist had settled around him. “Good dog,” the voice said again.
“Cavall!” Anwen hollered from the far end of the hallway.
Cavall jumped. “Sorry, I . . .” He looked back, but the person was gone. He was beginning to think that person hadn’t been a person at all. “Sorry,” he repeated, and trotted to join them.
The sound of running water soon drowned out the noise of the footsteps, and as they descended another set of stairs, Edelm said, “Are you able to swim?”
Cavall blinked before realizing he was being asked a question. “I’ve never tried.”
“Every dog knows how to swim,” Anwen said. “You should be able to figure it out fine.”
“But why are you asking? Are we going swimming?”
“Of a sort,” Edelm answered.
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Cavall could see the rushing water. It splashed against the stone walkway and hurried on its way through the castle. Cavall had not known the river around the castle also ran under it. It smelled of damp mold and murk.
“It’s not a far swim,” Edelm said. “The river leads out to the castle wall, where you will be able to come out on the far side.”
Cavall crept to the edge of the walkway and peered in. The water flowed so fast that he couldn’t even make out his own reflection. He dipped his nose in and quickly pulled it out. It was cold. “I don’t know if I can.”
“I’ll help you,” Anwen said.
“All right,” Cavall said with renewed confidence. If he had Anwen helping, he could probably make it to the wall. He turned to Edelm. “Thank you for all your help.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Edelm said. “You speak as though I plan to turn around and put my old bones to rest.”
“Aren’t you?”
“I have no such plans, no. I am not as young as I once was, but I believe I still have some fight left in me.”
Anwen nudged him from behind. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
Cavall turned around and nodded to her.
A set of three steps led down into the water. Anwen went first, since she was the strongest swimmer. Cavall watched her wade in up to her chest and kick her front legs in an even rhythm. Her sleek fur hardly seemed to get wet at all, and her tail stuck up behind her, moving back and forth as she treaded water. “Now you,” she called to Cavall. “And remember, you keep afloat with your back legs, you move forward with your front legs, and you turn with your tail. There’s really nothing to it.”
Cavall began to wade in. He flinched at the cold water on his toes, drew back a moment, then steeled his resolve and plunged headlong down the steps. His head dunked under, and water filled his nose and mouth. He didn’t know what to do and broke to the surface with a yelp.
Luckily, Anwen was there, pressing up against him from the side. He could feel the steady rhythm of her kicking and tried to match it. That brought his shoulders above water. “Good, just like that,” Anwen said. “Okay, Edelm. Come join us.”
Edelm eased himself down the stairs, groaning as he went. Cavall lurched forward to help. Perhaps Edelm really was too weak to be helping them. But the old dog had a determined look on his face that said he would not turn back now.
He swam into line on the other side of Cavall. He paddled slower than Anwen did, so Cavall had difficulty keeping track of which rhythm he should follow. After a moment or two, he thought he was getting the hang of it. He fell into his own rhythm of steady paddles. With his longer legs, he found himself pulling away from the other dogs. He could actually do this. He could keep his head above water.
They swam with the current. As the river flowed, the ceiling overhead became lower and lower, until there was hardly a snout’s length of breathing room. Cavall kept bumping his head against the rough stones.
“Stay calm,” Anwen’s voice called. “Don’t panic or you won’t be able to focus on keeping your head up.”
Cavall listened to her and continued kicking, even though everything was dark and closed in. Sometimes the water came up to splash in his nose and he needed to take a moment to snort it out. He barely even noticed the chill anymore.
“How much farther do we have to go?”
“Not much,” Edelm said. Cavall couldn’t see where he was, let alone smell. The water dampened everything. “Do you see that light up ahead?”
Cavall faced forward as best he could. Sure enough, a tiny sliver of light shone through the darkness, silvery like moonlight.
“That is where we will come out.”
Anwen grunted. It sounded like she had gotten water in her nose as well. “And that’s when the hard part begins.”
Chapter 15
THEY BROKE INTO THE NIGHT AIR ON THE other side of the castle wall. Cavall followed Anwen and Edelm as they made their way to the shore. He took a few deep breaths, then watched in fascination as the other two dogs shook the water from their bodies. The water slid right off Anwen’s fur as she wiggled her body wildly, and Edelm’s long fur sent droplets flying everywhere. Cavall tried to imitate them as best he could, but he only ended up tripping over his own feet and almost landing in the dirt.
“We’ve got to keep moving,” said Anwen. They climbed up the sandy bank and found themselves in a familiar flat, grassy field. To the right loomed the castle, a shadowy shape in the nighttime. Candles burned in a few windows, but mostly everything was dark. To the left was the forest, and at first Cavall thought there were candles out there as well. Tiny lights bobbed in and out between the trees, illuminating the darkness for brief seconds.
“Will-o’-the-wisps,” Edelm said, answering Cavall’s unspoken question. “Fay lights. Do not follow them.”
They crossed the field with more urgency than the day of their hunt. Cavall was glad to have Anwen and especially Edelm with him. If Edelm had been on over a hundred hunts, he had to know more about the forest than any dog in the castle. And though he’d only seen Anwen in action once before—during his first, ill-fated training session—she was fast and fierce. He only hoped that neither of them would get hurt.
Anwen pulled up short at the edge of the forest. “All right,” she said, tail wagging in anticipation, “what’s the plan once we get in there?”
“Luwella said we’d need help from the fay if we want to get into the Dreaming,” Cavall said. “That’s why we need to find Merlin or Vivian.”
Anwen’s brow scrunched up. “That might be tricky. Fay are hard to find, especially if they don’t want to be found.”
“On the other paw,” Edelm said,
“once we get into the forest, the fay will know. Many will want to hide from us, but some will want to seek us out.”
“I hope one of them is either Merlin or Vivian,” Cavall said.
“Maybe,” Anwen said doubtfully. “In any case, I imagine the first rule of hunting is also in effect here: work with your pack.” She turned to Edelm and wagged her tail when he nodded in approval. “That means no splitting up,” she went on. “Try not to wander off like you did the other day.”
Cavall nodded.
They began to creep into the woods. Anwen and Edelm walked shoulder to shoulder, their heads kept low. They were obviously nervous, and that made Cavall nervous. He tensed and waited for the rune stone on his collar to start vibrating, but it remained silent. There was no immediate danger in simply walking into the woods.
He felt the difference as soon as they passed to the other side of the tree line. It wasn’t something he could pick out as a change in sights or scents or sounds. Just a feeling, like a tingling in the air. It set his fur standing on end, but not in a way that made him feel scared or on edge. Instead, it felt almost like how he imagined flying would feel—light and unconnected from the ground.
“Merlin!” he shouted. “Vivian! We need to talk to you!”
“Shh!” Anwen hissed. “You’ll bring every fay in the forest down on us . . . friend or not.”
“But I thought they already knew we were here.”
Anwen blinked, as if she hadn’t thought of that.
“I’m not sure how else to find them,” Cavall admitted. “Last time, I found the lake by accident.”
“What about that stone around your neck?” Anwen asked. “The Lady of the Lake gave that to you, didn’t she? Maybe it smells like her, and we could use the scent to find her.” She turned to Edelm. “You have the best nose of any dog I’ve ever known,” she said. “Do you think you can find her using Cavall’s rune stone?”
Edelm approached Cavall and sniffed at the stone. “Hmm . . . ,” he rumbled. “It does not smell like a person, but I may be able to get a lock on it.”
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