“Is that bad?” Holly looked back up the tower steps. She had hoped she would be imprisoned with the boys, that they could figure out some plan together, but the knight descended the staircase without answering her.
When they reached the landing, Loverian led her down a wide corridor, open on one side to another courtyard.
Holly wasn’t a girl to go on crying when it wouldn’t do any good. She fell silent, afraid of making the knight angry. He seemed to like her; why wouldn’t he help her?
“The prince . . . ” Holly began. “He doesn’t believe in magic, does he?”
“The prince fears magic. He feigns disbelief. He has been taught to do so.”
“Taught by who?”
“Everyone. ’Tis the king’s wish that his son knows naught of the Other World.”
“But he must know that the Adepts were exiled, and that some of those—other creatures are still around.” Holly was careful not to say too much. Even if Ranulf and the others had deserted her, she didn’t want them hunted.
“Naught but legend feeds his knowledge. Thus ’tis not very accurate. He considers you a fanciful magician, nothing more.”
“But I know you believe me, Loverian. That I came from a different place—a different world.”
“My lady.” He stopped a moment and held her at arm’s length. “Do you know why it be unwise to give names to the hogs in the sty?”
“The . . . What?”
“Because the hog will be slaughtered, and your heart grieve for what was named.”
“I . . . Okay.”
“I am the king’s knight,” Loverian said. “And you are his condemned.”
“Oh. I get it.” Holly swallowed hard as Loverian prodded her forward. She was doomed, and he didn’t want to make a friend of someone he was sworn to execute.
Chapter 20
* * *
A Nighttime Visitor
It was about this same time, as Holly was being led to the western chamber and facing the grim prospect of a morning execution, that a loud clatter startled Everett, waking him after a brief sleep. Ben gasped beside him. “What? What?”
At the far end of the tower was a floating, golden light. Ben scooted closer to Everett. The light drifted toward them. “Who’s there?” Everett called, trying to sound bold.
“Just me.” The light danced lower, and Everett saw it was a boy holding a lantern below his face. He was perhaps ten years old, dressed in a colorless tunic, his feet bare. In his other hand he held a dagger.
“Well?” Everett said, standing up. “What do you want?”
The boy’s voice came out in a squeak. “I answer not to you.”
“Fine, then. Don’t.”
Ben eyed the dagger. “Don’t make him mad, Everett.”
“Why not? He can’t do anything to us. Did you bring us something to eat?”
“I . . . Look here, I mean to see ye are held fast. And . . . aye. Leavings from the feast.”
Everett peered at the floor and saw the platter the boy had dropped there. That was the noise that had wakened them. “What is it?”
“Ye shall be glad enough of it, no matter what it be.”
Everett sat down again near the platter. “I guess that’s true enough. Come on, Ben, tuck in.” He was glad of the poor light, because he was able to feign looking indifferent, when in truth even a scrawny boy was frightening enough when holding a dagger.
He picked over the platter. A hard, flat piece of bread was covered with dried gravy, and the bits of roast pork looked like they’d been chewed on.
“I can’t eat that,” said Ben, gagging. “Isn’t there anything else?”
“No,” Everett said, “so quit whinging about it.” The food on the platter turned his stomach too, but neither of them had eaten for several hours, so Everett gave half the bread to Ben and scooped up some limp greens with the other half. The page stared at them.
“Did you want some? There’s plenty,” Everett said.
“There’s not that much,” Ben muttered.
“My thanks.” The boy set the lantern near the platter, so that it was almost like sitting around a campfire. He picked up a piece of meat, and shrugged under Ben’s scowl. “This was to be my supper. Sir Grandor said it was foolish to feed doomed men. I only wished . . . ”
“To see what we were like,” Everett suggested.
“ ’Twas all the talk at the feast: the prisoners, their strange garb, the Adept. Be ye truly poachers, then? Brave on the king’s land?”
“No, we aren’t. Look here, I’m Everett, and this is Ben. What’s your name again?”
“I am called Darton. Dart, that is. And I shall be a squire soon. Sir Loverian has promised, at the tournament.”
Darton . . . Like the castle in Hawkesbury? Everett’s mind spun a little thinking about it. “Right. okay. Anyway, we came from . . . I don’t know, exactly. Another time, I think.”
“Another time?”
“Like in a machine,” Ben said. “You know, like if you could go back to, I don’t know, Caesar’s time or something.”
“He’s not exactly read sci-fi, Ben.”
“Okay, so you explain it.”
It wasn’t that easy. “Right, then. Well, just as you’re in England, we came from—”
“I be in the king’s castle.”
“Yes, right, but the castle’s in England, and we—”
“This castle is in Anglielle,” said Dart.
Everett stopped chewing. “What? It’s where?”
“Holly was right,” said Ben. “This isn’t England at all.”
“Don’t you think I know my own village?” Everett said.
“The king’s realm is called Anglielle,” Dart said, setting his chin. “It extends to the sea on every side, even unto the Gloamlands.”
But it was England, Everett’s mind told him stubbornly, circling the same thoughts as before. Some things were different, he supposed—the roads weren’t built and the forest was overgrown—but the castle and the valley looked as they always had. Even the grass in the courtyard seemed familiar. Of course, there was the business about the flying lion thing. That was different.
“So you live on a big island,” Everett said.
Dart shrugged. “ ’Tis a vast land, but there be open sea, I am told, within a few days’ ride.”
“And what about the rest of the world? You know, beyond the sea? Your king doesn’t rule all that bit, does he?”
“He may as well,” said Dart loftily. “My father has told of a mighty battle with lands off the southern coast, but that was many a year past. A great pestilence has since swept that land, and we do not dare cross the water for fear of it.”
Maybe it’s like the European continent, Everett was thinking with some excitement. Everything’s here, just . . . different. “Tell me about the king,” he said.
The page sat up, as if the king were a personal friend. “King Reynard, may he reign forever. He has ruled near forty year.”
“I never heard of a King Reynard,” Ben put in.
“Nor me,” said Everett.
“And who’s that prince guy?” asked Ben.
“His Royal Highness Prince Avery. And of course Queen Elianne rules at the king’s side.”
“Are they any good? As rulers, I mean?”
“Ben!” Everett elbowed him.
“What? It’s a fair question.”
Dart clenched his jaw. “The king and queen be the finest rulers Anglielle has ever known. But then ye be thieves and poachers, how could ye agree?”
“We’re not poachers. We just don’t know this place,” said Ben.
“But the king’s realm is all there is. Once, there existed all manner of horrid creatures, great flying beasts and demons, and the greatest of all evils, the Adepts—”
“Yes,” Everett said. “The Adepts. Tell us about them.”
Darton’s face glowed in the lantern light. “They are a race unto themselves, powerful sorcerers who once lived
in the western cliffs.”
“So they’re not human? I mean, like regular people?” asked Ben.
“They appear as we do, but how can they be? ’Tis said they charmed the beasts of earth, sky, and water, and could command the very trees to do their bidding. ’Twas a terrible time. Some call it the Veiled Times; others, the Eternal Night. Wherever the Adepts traveled, they spread mayhem and despair, wielding their wands like swords. Then at last King Reynard took the throne and exiled them. From that day forward, peace has reigned over Anglielle. His Majesty is our savior.”
The prince’s companion in the forest had called Holly that—an Adept. Everett glanced at Ben, who looked confused. Clearly, he didn’t remember what Lord Clement had said.
“So there aren’t any of these Adepts left?” Everett said carefully.
“It was thought they had all been destroyed. But did ye not hear of the lass this day? In the wood? When . . . ” The page, who had been chewing cheerfully on his food, suddenly went white. “Came ye with her, over the sea?”
“We came through a forest,” said Ben. “By magic.”
Everett kicked him. “Are you an idiot?”
But it was too late. Dart had scrambled to his feet. “ ’Tis truth, what was said,” he whispered.
“Look, we didn’t mean to trespass on anyone’s land,” said Everett. “We came here by accident.”
“By magic! Ye came with the Adept!”
“She’s my sister,” Ben blurted. “What happened to her? Is she okay?”
“She has been captured,” Dart said. “She is a traitor. All Adepts are.”
“But Holly hasn’t done anything wrong,” said Ben. “She’s not—one of those things—”
“His Highness the prince took her wand himself, at the feast. I saw it with mine own eyes. They say she came on a great flying beast. Ye be like her! Stay back!” Dart brandished his dagger.
“But what happened to her?” asked Ben.
Never taking his eyes off them, Dart backed up slowly, then reached behind and knocked frantically at the tower door. “What think ye?” he whispered. “She is an Adept. All Adepts are traitors to the realm.” The door creaked open and he stepped halfway through. “What befalls a traitor? Even a stranger knows this. Death to the Adepts. Death by the sword.”
A moment later the door slammed shut with a hollow boom that shook the tower walls, and the boys were left alone.
Chapter 21
* * *
Everett’s Secret
Carrying a very big secret is not so different from carrying a large television set, or a backpack crammed with more schoolbooks than should be allowed. It makes you short-tempered. The bigger the secret is, and the longer you bear it, the more it weighs on your shoulders. Everett was carrying just such a secret, and so perhaps can be excused for snapping, “Shut it, will you!” when Ben began to cry.
“But Holly’s dead!” Ben wailed.
“You don’t know that. Just because Dart said it doesn’t make it so. He’s just a page.”
“A what?”
Everett shrugged. “You know, like he runs errands and stuff. And I guess he’s training to be a squire, which means eventually he’d be a knight—”
“I don’t care.”
“Ben, the point is, he’s nobody. Even if he knew anything, what makes you think he’d tell us the truth?”
Ben sniffled. “Why did he keep calling her that—Adept?”
“It’s got something to do with the wand. You saw how Dart acted. They’re all terrified of magic. I hate to say it, but when Holly tried to rescue us, it linked her to us. Now they think we’re magic too.”
“But if the king kills all the Adepts, then she’s already dead!”
“Or maybe she’s still here in the castle. Maybe they’ll bring her up here until morning, then execute us all together.”
“Oh, great. At least we’ll be together.” Ben picked at the leavings on the platter.
“What I mean is, we’ll have time to think up a plan. And we can all escape.”
“Then where is she?”
Everett had no answer to this, and it made him irritable. “If you hadn’t started blathering on about magic, I might’ve been able to make friends with Dart. I was trying to get some information. Now he won’t come anywhere near us.”
“Everything’s my fault, isn’t it?” Ben pulled his jacket toward him across the stone floor. Everett heard a clatter.
“Hang on, what’s that?”
“Hey, I forgot I had this! I was using it on the plane.” Ben produced a handheld electronic Battleship game.
“Does it go?”
Ben pushed some buttons and the game emitted a few beep boops.
“Brilliant!”
“It’s okay. I’ve been on Mom to get me one of those new Rigel GA handheld systems, but she won’t cave till I’m twelve. But by then, the technology’s gonna be that much better. I think Planeterra Five’s already available for Rigel, and when it comes out in 3-D—”
“Never mind that. Don’t you see? To these people, that game’s just as much magic as Holly’s wand.”
“And how does that help? They’re going to kill her.”
“But they’re also scared of her. Maybe we can scare them too. Use it as kind of a fake weapon or something.”
“You mean one Battleship handheld against an army of knights with swords,” Ben said.
Put like that, it didn’t sound promising. Everett’s secret knocked on his brain, asking to be let out. But he wasn’t ready to share it yet, even seeing the naked fear on Ben’s face. Maybe he wouldn’t need to risk it. They might still be able to talk their way out of execution. But then there was Holly to think of. If she’d been taken somewhere else, how would they find her?
Everett slipped his hand into his jacket. Through the lining of the breast pocket he could feel a wand—the wand that had once been a key.
Because of course once he had taken one of Mr. Gallaway’s keys, he hadn’t let it out of his sight. In fact, the day before—it seemed like forever ago now—he’d gone to the wood himself. He had meant to wait for Holly, and show her that he had a key too and ask her how it worked, but he had been too eager, and there had still been a good bit of daylight left after tea.
He’d found the clearing in the forest easily and pulled the key out of his pocket. Again that trembly feeling stirred in his heart, but he crushed his palm against the iron until something swelled in his chest, like he could take on anybody who crossed him. He held it out in front of him as he’d seen Holly do, waiting. But although the key pulsed a couple of times in its odd way—warm-cold, warm-cold—nothing else happened. He circled the tree, peering at it, laying his hand against the rough bark of its trunk, but it looked as it always had. After a while, he gave up and went home.
And then this morning, when the three of them had stood at the oak tree, Holly producing her key like she was some kind of expert, lording it over him and Ben the way she had, well . . . Everett hadn’t felt the need to pull out his key. He’d keep his secret, then whip it out and show her up, he’d thought. Except that once they’d actually stepped through the beech tree, he’d forgotten all about it. And everything else had happened so fast.
Now he realized that having a key—or now a wand, as he assumed it must be—wasn’t exactly a bonus, not as far as this King Whatsis was concerned. It would just mark Everett as one of those evil sorcerer Adepts who the king had gotten rid of. If the knights found out Everett had a wand, he and Ben would be strung up this very night if Dart was telling the truth. But what if it were their only chance at escape? Dart had said the prince himself had taken Holly’s wand.
Everett glanced at Ben, who had started playing a Battleship game halfheartedly. He might be a bit immature, but he wasn’t stupid, and if Everett was smart, he’d work with Ben instead of insisting on taking the lead in everything. Still, once the secret was out . . .
“Oh, hang it, all right,” he said finally, unzipping the
jacket pocket.
“What?” said Ben. “Have you got more food?”
“No. It’s just . . . this.” Everett pulled out a long, wooden stick.
“Holly’s wand!”
“It isn’t Holly’s. It’s mine. It was a key before, like hers.” Everett knew it must have become a wand, but he still turned it over in his hands in wonder. The wood was darker than Holly’s, and the carvings were different—tiny faces with sharp teeth. He followed the carvings around the base of the wand and saw the nasty faces were all attached to one long, spiky tail that curled around the tip, which was affixed with a dark red stone.
“Mr. Gallaway gave you one too? Let me see it.”
“No. It’s mine.”
Ben shrugged, sulking. “When did he give it to you?”
“I got it yesterday.” An uncomfortable knot of guilt played in Everett’s stomach at the implied lie, but he fought it down. The main thing was that now he had a wand. And he could use it to get them out of here.
“You should’ve told me,” Ben said. “How long were you going to hang on to that?”
“I couldn’t very well let everyone know, could I? You saw what happened to Holly.”
“We’ve been in here for hours! You could’ve used it to help us get out when Holly came for us!”
“I don’t know how to use it, okay?”
“So let’s figure it out. Holly didn’t do anything special with hers. Bring it over to the lantern.”
It was a piece of luck that in his haste Dart had forgotten to take the lantern with him. Everett brought the wand into the light, gazing at the carvings around the handle. “What did Holly do? Wave it around?” Ben asked.
“She just pointed it at things.”
“Try the door! Holly said her wand unlocks stuff,” said Ben.
Everett picked up the lantern and tiptoed to the great wooden door with its iron handle. “There must be a guard outside,” he whispered. He pointed the wand at the keyhole.
He definitely felt something, a kind of humming from the wand that shook his hand until he forced it still. The wood warmed inside his palm. At first it was a pleasant feeling, but quickly the wand grew hotter until he was forced to drop it.
The Key & the Flame Page 13
