Almaric wrung his hands nervously for a few moments, then gave a little jump as if remembering something. “But of course! Your Ladyship must be armed. One moment,” he said, dashing back into his cottage.
“But—” Holly called after him. “What for?”
The leogryff glanced at her and paced the clearing, flapping his leathery wings.
The magician returned with a longbow and a quiver of arrows. “These should do, Lady Holly.”
Was he expecting her to shoot something? She picked up the bow, which was made of a smooth yellow wood anchored by a leather grip in the center. It was taller than Holly by a foot or more, and the quiver, a leather bag with straps to go across her back, was heavy and loaded with long, straight, barbed arrows. These weren’t toys; they were meant to kill. Her stomach felt weak. She had tried archery exactly once, in Girl Scouts. It hadn’t gone well.
Almaric helped her take off her backpack, which he laid on the grass, and then looped the quiver of arrows over Holly’s shoulder. Quickly he strung the bow and handed it to her.
Holly nocked an arrow and squinted at one of the trees that framed Almaric’s cottage. She pinched the bowstring between her fingers. “Not that way, my lady,” said Almaric, adding with a blush, “if you’ll beg pardon.” He stood behind her and half wrapped her fingers around the string as if she were playing the harp. “Now draw straight back, along the jaw . . . Good . . . And loose!” The tight string thrummed forward and the barbed arrow whizzed through the air before sticking in the clump of English ivy that climbed the jamb of Almaric’s front door.
“A bit low,” the old man said, shrugging.
“And a bit wide,” added the cat, who was washing his face nearby.
By about three feet, in fact. Holly frowned at Jade, her spine tingling in a cold sweat. “Almaric,” she said, “I don’t know if I—I mean, I’m not going to be hurting anyone, am I?”
The old man gave her a blank look. “But why else bring weapons, my lady?”
Holly swallowed. She had never shot anyone—anything, not even a target—before.
Jade gave her a shrewd look. “ ’Tis wise to be armed, Your Ladyship. The castle wall is sheer, and there is naught to land on save the battlements above. A leogryff is not a hummingbird, like to hover at a window.”
This was the part of Ranulf’s plan that made Holly feel as if her stomach were climbing up through her throat. The ground shook as the leogryff paced restlessly back and forth. Almaric was right: There was only one who could breach the castle walls, and only one who could reach the top of the North Tower. But Fleetwing wouldn’t fly alone.
“Wait,” said Holly. “Do you mean we’re landing on top of the castle?”
Jade shrugged. “The upper chamber of the tower is but twenty feet below.”
“Oh, is that all?”
“Now, now, my lady,” said the magician, patting her shoulder. “We simply have to find a way to hoist the lads up to the battlements, and all shall be well.”
The cat smirked.
“Wait! Almaric, do you have some rope?”
“A good quantity, Lady Holly. One moment.” He dashed back into the cottage and returned bearing a heavy coil of rope.
Holly studied it a minute, trying to remember what her survival guide had told her about makeshift harnesses. She looped the rope around her waist, around her seat, and between her legs, tying two half-hitch knots and one square knot. “See?” she said to the others. “I can rappel from the top of the castle wall and pull the boys out one at a time.” She hesitated, picturing Ben on her back, flailing and probably screaming. “I mean, it could work.”
“An admirable tool,” the cat admitted as Holly yanked on the harness. “Her Ladyship is fit to use it?”
“I’ve done five-point-two-level climbs at the Monster Rockwall,” Holly said. “That is . . . I mean, I’m pretty good.” She had no helmet and no carabiner, but that couldn’t be helped. “See, I’ll just sort of sit in the rope seat here and walk down the wall, and the other end will have to be attached . . . I don’t know . . . ”
“To me.”
The three of them jumped, startled to find Fleetwing’s black whiskers only inches from Holly’s ear, peering at the climbing rope.
“Um . . . yeah.” Holly pictured struggling down a sheer wall with no belay, attached to a leogryff. She knelt beside Fleetwing and took a breath. His panther paws, which ended in curved talons, were nearly a yard across. She threaded the rope across the palm of one paw, as if helping the creature to make a cat’s cradle. Once it was knotted securely, the great beast flexed its foot, testing its strength.
Fleetwing nudged Holly’s shoulder. “The moon, my lady,” he whispered, giving a soft cry.
Holly looked up and saw that the moon had passed over the elm tree as Ranulf had predicted. “Right. We need to go. Almaric . . . ”
“The blessing of Lunetia be upon you, Lady Holly.” He bowed to her, oddly formal.
“The blessing of what?”
“Make haste!” cried Fleetwing. He crouched so Holly could climb on his back, and Jade jumped up in front of her, right behind the creature’s head. With a great bound, they were airborne.
In an instant Fleetwing had taken them above the trees, and Almaric and his cottage shrank below them. Holly felt as if her stomach had stayed behind with the old man. The night air was cold and windy, and she had a horrible feeling of emptiness around her, with nothing to cling to. At least during her wild ride on Ranulf’s back, she’d been close to the ground; now, she was a couple of hundred feet up. She desperately wanted to close her eyes, but she would have to stay alert if she were actually to rescue Ben and Everett. Her head swam as they climbed. She gripped Fleetwing’s flanks with her knees and dug her hands into the short fur at the base of his neck. His leathery wings beat with a horrible rhythm. They were getting higher, and she could see nothing but blackness.
Jade the cat kept his balance perfectly in front of her. He seemed to read her thoughts. “Take heart, Lady Holly,” he said, the stiff wind blowing his words back to her ears. “Even the bravest of us fear something. Imagine you are safe.”
She tried not to look down, tried not to think about the empty air around them, the ground so far below. Climbing was one thing: She controlled that, pulled with each hand, pushed with her toes, flexed her muscles, knowing they would propel her to the top of the wall. But with each dive and swoop that Fleetwing made, Holly felt smaller, like a leaf blown on the wind.
She took a deep, full breath. The cold air stung her throat. I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe, she thought. I’m in my own bed at home. The beat of the leogryff’s wings was steady. They would hold her aloft. “Okay,” she whispered, even as a line of cold sweat trickled down her back. “I can do this.”
“In a few moments you will see the castle,” said Jade. “Together we shall rescue your kinsman, and all will be well.”
The cat’s reassurance surprised Holly. He glanced back at her. “ ’Tis an honor to be an Adept’s familiar, my lady, however untrained she may be. It has been too long since I had the privilege. Henceforth am I bound to you by choice and oath.”
Holly swallowed. So Jade did think she was an Adept. He had stood with her while most of the creatures had deserted her. And now she’d have to prove herself worthy. “Thank you, Jade.”
“It is not an occasion for thanks. You have my loyalty unto death.”
“I just hope that won’t be coming too soon,” Holly whispered.
Fleetwing took another steep dive and a sharp turn to the east. The castle loomed into view below them, gray against the black sky. Holly had never seen the night so dark, despite the moon.
“Look fast,” Fleetwing whispered. “The North Tower.”
The leogryff had flown to a back corner of the castle, hovering not far above a skinny, crenellated stone cylinder that extended higher than any of the other turrets. The castle was massive and complicated, with several shorter towers, some topped with
what looked like steel dunce caps, others ringed with battlements. Short stone staircases and walkways linked them together. Below the castle, a wide moat shone silver in the moonlight.
“I don’t see the others,” Holly whispered.
“The drawbridge is on the east side of the castle,” said Fleetwing. “They will divert the guards there.”
“But what if they need help?”
“ ’Tis they who must help you, Your Ladyship,” Jade reminded her.
The castle looked deserted. It seemed too easy.
But then the noise erupted below them. A clash of steel followed a great roar, then, frightened shouts and urgent footsteps. The battle had begun. “Time grows short!” Fleetwing cried to her. “Arrow on the string!”
Holly clenched one fist around a handful of the leogryff’s sleek fur and reached behind to pull an arrow from the quiver. Her palms were damp, and to make matters worse, Fleetwing dove just as she nocked the arrow to the longbow. She lurched forward and the arrow fell useless to the ground.
One lost! A real Adept could probably shoot in a thunderstorm with a dozen knights at her back, and Holly couldn’t even fit an arrow to the string. She reached for a second and gasped. She’d stabbed her own palm with it; she could already feel the blood spilling down her wrist. Never mind that, keep going, she told herself. She yanked the arrow from the quiver and fitted it to the string, wincing as she flexed her wounded palm. She held the bow to her shoulder, sighting for a target along her left wrist.
Below, two archers were already running along the battlements toward the North Tower.
“They have seen us!” Jade shouted, and Holly released the bowstring.
It was a miserable attempt. She’d shot on instinct, without aiming well, and the missile flew well to the west of the tower. At least I didn’t hurt anyone, she thought, and then, But wasn’t that the point? She pulled another arrow from the quiver.
Now aiming was even more difficult. Fleetwing was climbing and diving from side to side, trying to create a hard-to-hit target. Though the archers hid behind the battlements, they were unprotected from above, so the leogryff climbed higher and wheeled to give Holly room to shoot. She aimed the longbow down, but it was an awkward stance, and the archers were hard to see in the darkness. “Hold still a moment!” she yelled at Fleetwing, and then took her best aim.
This arrow was more true; Holly heard it clatter on the stone. At once, she seized another. But before she could aim, a whoosh near her right ear gave her a nasty shock. The men on the tower were shooting back, and they were better archers than she.
“A direct fight it must be,” the leogryff cried, and took a steep dive.
Holly’s stomach lurched as they dropped to the tower. Fleetwing curled his paw into a fist and knocked one archer down. The other gaped at the creature and wheeled at once. He scampered along the battlements to the next tower and down into the depths of the castle.
“Quick! To your plan!” Jade shouted above the wind.
It didn’t seem so brilliant now that Holly was standing on top of the tower. She snuck a peek below. The lawn shone silver as the moon slipped in and out of the clouds. She remembered her last climb at the Monster Rockwall, thirty-five feet up, her dad holding the belay below her. Now the ground, swallowed in the inky night, was three times as far down. Holly ran a hand over the crenellations. The stone was rough, but she could see no footholds.
Fleetwing held the line taut as Holly backed down between two crenellations at a steep angle. She gripped the rope, her palms burning. Below, she heard shouts and roars from the unseen battle on the other side of the castle. Don’t think about it. I have to take my time. The rope of her makeshift harness pulled and burned against her thighs and the breeze whipped through her hair. She missed her helmet.
One foot out. Then the other. The rope shuddered as Fleetwing fed it out. How far down to the window? It seemed forever.
“Ben, look! It’s Holly!” someone yelled.
She chanced a look down.
A small, white face appeared at the window, not ten feet below her. And then, next to it, an even smaller, whiter face, and Holly nearly burst into tears. Ben was all right. They both were.
“Hang on! I’m going to pull you up!”
Ben’s skinny arms poked out the window like a baby who wants to be picked up. Just a few more inches and she would be inside the tower.
She was nearly even with the window when it happened. A sudden tugging at her waist shook her loose from the castle wall. Then she heard them: “Archers to the North Tower! To the tower!”
Holly swayed away from the wall. “No, wait! I’ve almost got him!” she cried, but then she came crashing back to the wall, dangling at the end of the rope.
“Holly!” Ben yelled.
The harness pulled against her thighs. For an awful moment, she was splayed out like a fish on a line, and she heard a thwump and zing as an arrow flew past her ear. She gathered her limbs, hugging the rope. She swayed farther from the stone wall.
Ben screamed.
“Fleetwing! Pull me back!”
She strained her neck upward and at once understood the problem.
More archers had gained the tower. The leogryff hovered just above them, striking out with his free paw and occasionally with the one tied to Holly. As he swooped, he bore Holly farther and farther from the castle. “Cut the rope!” one knight hollered, and the leogryff pulled back toward the forest, Holly wrapped around the rope, praying the harness would hold.
“Leave her alone!” Ben’s voice floated across the sky in between the archers’ cries.
Arrows flew through the sky, and Holly swayed and swung as the leogryff dodged them. She reached behind her, straining to reach one of her own arrows, but they dove sideways and she nearly lost her grip on the rope. She wobbled, rocking back and forth, hugging the line, straining to see the leogryff’s black body against the inky sky. The rope shone white beneath the moon as she swung back and forth like a giant pendulum. The leogryff dove, nearly clearing the outer castle wall.
But then Holly swung wide, dangling in the cold air. She heard the clean thwump of an arrow finding its mark, and Fleetwing let out a long, high cry. The rope went slack. Holly peered up and saw the leogryff bearing down on her, three arrows sunk deep into one shoulder. At once they plummeted together, spiraling, to the ground below.
Chapter 18
* * *
In the Tower
All that had happened down at the tower window, on the archers’ battlement, and in the night sky had looked quite a bit different to Everett and Ben, trapped as they were in the king’s North Tower.
The boys had dozed on and off since arriving in the tower that afternoon, but they were startled awake by shouts coming from the other end of the castle. The moon was up by then, and it was past nine o’clock by Ben’s watch. Everett had seen it first, the great winged panther swooping through the sky, but once it landed on the tower he couldn’t see anything until Holly started rappelling down the wall. Ben bounded to the window and very nearly fell out making a mad grab for her. But his sister and the flying beast were far out of his reach, and it was only Everett’s firm hold on his waistband that kept him from hurtling to his death. He screamed her name as she dangled in midair, and then again as both beast and girl tumbled to the earth.
“They’ve shot her down! We have to help her!”
Everett yanked him back into the tower. “And just how, do you think? If you’d grabbed the rope when she’d been closer—”
“Like I could’ve climbed up that thing!”
“You could’ve done something besides scream!”
“I didn’t scream! It was more like a holler—”
“That’s what alerted the archers. That’s why she got shot down.”
Ben opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead his eyes brimmed over and he collapsed on the floor at the other end of the room.
It’s very hard, when you’ve said something awful
, to know how to make it right. Escape had nearly been in their grasp, and now Holly was probably dead, and Everett didn’t know what to say, but even sorry seemed more than he could manage. He threw himself down against the opposite wall.
After a minute, he heard shouting below. He ran to the window and leaned out.
“What’s going on?” Ben asked, sniffling. “Is it Holly?”
“I can’t see properly. . . . Shut up a minute.”
Ben joined him at the window, and the two of them hung out, straining their eyes through the dark.
They could hear angry voices, but nothing that told them whether Holly was all right. At length, the sounds faded around the corner of the tower, and the night was silent again.
“Maybe they found her,” Ben said quietly.
“It can’t be any good for her if they did.”
After a moment Everett came away from the window. Awkwardly, he approached Ben, who had curled up on the floor into the smallest possible ball he could manage.
“Look, Ben, it wasn’t your fault. They’d already seen her.”
Ben refused to uncurl.
“I’m sure I heard them shouting before you said anything. Honestly.”
Ben pulled his head from underneath one arm. His face was wet and blotchy. “So . . . she’s either dead or captured.”
“Maybe.”
“They’ll kill her! That one guy tried to in the forest.”
“We don’t know anything about it. Maybe not.”
“And what about us? How long do you think we’ve got?”
Everett sat down next to him. It didn’t look good for any of them.
“You know, this doesn’t make sense,” he said finally. “This castle . . . You know what it reminds me of?”
“A prison?”
“No. Well, yes. But also . . . ” He raised his eyebrows. “Darton Castle. In Hawkesbury.”
The Key & the Flame Page 11
