Belterras bid them farewell and said to Tabitha, “Remember what I told you.” Then he changed into a bright yellow meadowlark and winged away into the early morning light.
“What did he tell you?” Brinley asked.
“Nothing,” Tabitha said.
“That’s not true,” Brinley said.
Tabitha’s eyes widened in horror. “I lied just now, didn’t I?”
Brinley laughed. “That’s okay, Tabitha,” she said, placing a hand on the other girl’s shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Tabitha looked at the ground and kicked a stone. “He heard about the butterflies, and the ants.”
Brinley remembered how Tabitha had summoned the ants to overwhelm the ogre that had cornered them at Habis’s house. “Well, what about them?”
“It’s nothing,” Tabitha said, slumping down against the house.
Brinley sat beside her. “He didn’t like the butterflies?” she asked, trying to understand what Belterras could possibly be displeased about.
Tabitha shook her head. “He said that I could have done better. He said that I took a terrible risk. He said I risked your life.”
Brinley frowned. “He said that?”
Tabitha nodded vigorously and wiped a tear from her cheek. “He’s right. If I became a lion instead, or a bear or a dragon, I could have protected you better.”
“Tabitha,” Brinley said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Belterras is the Mage of Earth. He can teach you how to be the Mage of Earth. He can’t teach you how to be the Magemother’s Herald.”
Tabitha was shaking her head again. “But he’s right! Peridot told me the same thing, and she was the Magemother’s Herald, so you know she has to be right! She told me I had to be vicious sometimes in order to protect you! She told me!” Tabitha sniffed several times and then said softly, “She told me, and I tried to ignore her.”
“Peridot?” Brinley asked. “When did you speak with Peridot? Before she died?”
Tabitha shook her head. “I had a—a vision,” she said. “Except that it wasn’t really a vision. I can’t tell you, because I promised that I wouldn’t, so don’t ask me, but I did talk to her, and she told me that I had to be vicious sometimes, and I promised that I would help rescue your mother.”
Tabitha started crying again and Brinley pulled her into a hug. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We will. Don’t think about all of that right now. We can’t fix everything all at once.”
Tabitha looked at her gratefully and Brinley felt suddenly warm. She was surprised how quickly she and Tabitha had become friends, how much they cared for each other after a few short weeks. Then they were startled by a singsong voice calling to them out of the trees.
“Who’s there?” Brinley asked. Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears as she turned on the spot, peering into the trees for the source of the voice.
“Don’t flee,” the voice said. “It’s me.” A blood-red cat stepped from the trees on their left and settled down on its haunches to lick a paw.
Brinley gasped. “You’re that cat that Archibald was telling me about, aren’t you? What did you find out about my father? And where’s Archibald?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, scanning the trees for a sign of the man.
“What’s your name?” Tabitha said sharply. Brinley could tell from the tone of her voice that Tabitha was just as startled by this new arrival as she was.
The cat ignored Tabitha, but its green eyes flashed up to meet Brinley’s. “My name is Tobias, servant of Cyus.”
Tabitha snorted. “No, you’re not,” she said. Then, at the confused look on Brinley’s face, she explained. “Cyus is just a children’s tale—a legend that mothers use to scare their children. He lives in a glass kingdom where he sees and records everything that happens in Aberdeen. He is supposed to record everything that everyone does. And he has a magical cat—the Swelter Cat—that can run messages to your mother if you’re bad, or he can set your toys on fire.” She grinned at the cat. “So don’t be bad, Brinley,” she said in a mocking tone, “or the Swelter Cat will burn your toys.” She jabbed a finger at the cat. “It’s just a story, though. This poor cat seems to have been bewitched so that it speaks in rhymes.”
The cat shot Tabitha a dark look and raised a paw, sticking a long, sharp claw out. “You’re not the first to ridicule, but all are dead who played the fool.”
Tabitha frowned at the cat, but remained silent.
The Swelter Cat, satisfied, went on. “A Swelter Cat’s words must always rhyme. Every sentence, every time. I can say whatever I please. I can even lie. But it’s lucky I can rhyme with ease, for if I don’t, I die.
“If you are who you say you are,” Brinley broke in, “why are you here?”
The cat drew itself up a little taller. “I have come with a message of greatest import. Sent to you as a last resort.”
Tabitha harrumphed. “There’s nothing about him rhyming in the stories,” she said. “How can we trust him?”
Brinley placed a calming hand on her. She wasn’t sure why Tabitha was overreacting. It wasn’t like her to be rude or skeptical. In truth, the cat had done nothing suspicious yet, apart from appearing out of nowhere. “What is your message?” she asked the cat.
The cat cleared its throat. “Your father is trapped in Inveress. Fear not, he suffers no distress. He cannot get out on his own; he needs his daughter and the crone.”
Brinley felt her pulse quicken. Her father! It knew where her father was!
“Where is he?” Brinley asked. “What’s Inveress?”
Tabitha sighed. “It’s the magical glass kingdom that doesn’t exist.”
Brinley turned on her. “Why do you doubt all of this, Tabitha? Is it really a children’s tale? Do you know for certain?”
“No,” Tabitha said, defensively. “But it’s just a story.”
“Well, the cat’s right here,” Brinley said, pointing at Tobias. “And it says it knows where my father is.”
“He, please,” the Swelter Cat said.
“He says he knows where my father is. Do you know where my father is, Tabitha? Why are you making fun of him?”
Tabitha’s mouth clamped shut on something before she could say it, her jaw quivering with emotion. Then, without warning, she started to cry.
Brinley froze, uncertain what to do.
The Swelter Cat took a few steps forward. “The mother of Tabitha, long since dead, told her stories when she put her to bed. She took to the streets when her parents died, and searched for Inveress to hide.”
“What?” Brinley said. “What do you mean?”
“It’s true,” Tabitha said through her hands. “My mother told me stories about Inveress when I was little. Cyus and the Swelter Cat in the city of glass. But she told the stories different. Inveress was a happy place. The best. And when they died…”
“You went looking for it,” Brinley finished, beginning to understand.
“But it was just a story,” Tabitha mumbled.
“But it’s not, as you will see,” the Swelter Cat said. “You’ll surely see, if you follow me.”
Tabitha came out from behind her hands and gave the cat a thoughtful look, as if she wasn’t sure what to believe.
Just then, Archibald appeared. He came crashing through trees into the clearing, panting loudly. His hat had fallen off and his hair was disheveled. He limped slightly, using his cane for support. “There you are,” he grunted.
“Archibald!” Brinley exclaimed. “Are you all right?” She hurried over to him and he put a hand on her shoulder for balance.
“I’m fine. Twisted my ankle.” He pointed his cane at the Swelter Cat and Tobias glared back at him. “Bolted away from me as soon as he came back from the Void, the devil. I’ve been chasing him all afternoon. Practically killed poor Pilfur, running him all day. I had to leave him back at a stream to rest.” He pointed in the direction he had come from.
“Sit down and rest,” Brinley t
old him. “I was just about to ask Tobias to repeat his message.”
“Good,” Archibald said. “I would like to hear it myself, after all that.”
The Swelter Cat ignored Archibald. “Your father is trapped in Inveress. Fear not, he suffers no distress. He cannot get out on his own; he needs his daughter and the crone.”
“What’s a crone?” Tabitha asked.
“An ugly old lady,” Archibald said. He turned to the Swelter Cat. “Who?”
“The witch,” Tobias said. “The witch that is white, who was born in the dark but has come to the light.”
Brinley squinted at him in confusion. “Uh…who now?”
The Swelter Cat sighed and cleared his throat. “Habis, her name is.”
“Oh,” Brinley said with a nod. “Habis. We know her…Born in the dark but has come to the light. She’s going to love that.”
Tobias got to his feet, stretching. “Excellent,” he said, “the choice is made. Leave now, or you might be delayed.”
“What?” Brinley asked. “I can’t—we can’t leave now! We have to save Unda. We can’t just leave him there, now that we know where he is.”
The Swelter Cat coughed. “So, you’ll just let your father be? That isn’t very daughterly.”
“No!” Brinley said, going red in the face. “Of course not! But you said he isn’t in any danger, didn’t you?” She rubbed her face with her hands. Her head hurt. How could she be putting her father off now that she knew where he was? What had happened to her? She hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t even considered abandoning Unda to go and save her father. What was happening to her? “Tabitha!” she snapped. “What are you laughing about? This isn’t funny.”
“Sorry, Brinley,” Tabitha said, giggling. “It’s just…daughterly…It isn’t a very good rhyme.”
“Oh,” Brinley said, “No, I suppose not.”
The Swelter Cat flicked his tail loftily and turned his butt to them.
“Now you see here,” Archibald said, rising to his feet painfully and wagging a finger at the cat. “You’ll show Brinley the respect she deserves.”
“I need some time,” Brinley told Tobias. “Can you come back later? Will my father be okay just a little longer? I can’t leave just now. A friend of mine is in trouble and I need to help him.”
The Swelter Cat gave a bemused expression. “Three days more you’ll have to burn, then with or without you, I must return.”
“Three days,” Brinley murmured. It was better than nothing, she supposed.
“Um,” Tabitha said. “And what are you going to do for three days?”
“If you like, I’ll tag along. Leaving you would just be wrong.”
Tabitha grimaced. “What if we don’t like?”
The Swelter Cat just smiled.
“Well,” Brinley said, “I guess he’s coming with us.”
“Then I am too,” Archibald said. “If it’s all the same to you.”
“Archibald,” Tabitha said, “he’s got you rhyming now.”
Archibald pursed his lips and the Swelter Cat grinned. Brinley turned to Tabitha. “Well, Tabitha, we had better get going. I hope you can carry all of us.”
Chapter Fifteen
In which there is a dragon
Hugo woke in the middle of the night because someone was staring at him. His voice caught in his throat around the name. “Molad.”
His own dark reflection smiled back at him deviously. Hugo wondered how that was possible, then remembered that he had fallen asleep with the mirror open. He fought the urge to run, and snapped the mirror shut instead.
I can dance the dance, Molad said in his head, his voice dripping with pride, confident he had an offer that Hugo could not resist.
Hugo’s mind quieted. This was just himself he was speaking to, after all. Besides, it was a lie. No, you can’t.
Hugo could almost feel Molad smile. No, he agreed, you’re right. I can’t. That’s good. You’re learning…but you can’t dance it either.
Hugo nodded. The truth was clear to him now. Neither of us can by ourselves.
I will help you today, Molad said. I will give you whatever help you need, for a price.
Hugo closed his eyes. He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to even consider it, but he didn’t see what choice he had. Without Molad’s help, he didn’t stand a chance of meeting with the dragon and living to tell the tale. What price?
I want one hour, Molad said. One hour of freedom.
Hugo laughed. After what you did last time? Do you think I’m stupid?
That is my price, Molad said. Pay it or play with the dragon yourself. We both know how that will end.
Hugo punched the bed in frustration. Fine! he snapped. But you get ten minutes. Ten minutes or no deal, and you can’t hurt anyone this time.
Hugo felt Molad glow with satisfaction. Very well. Ten minutes. No hurting. You have a deal.
Hugo sighed. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and felt Molad skulk away into the recesses of his mind. I will learn to do things without you someday, Hugo promised. Molad didn’t bother answering.
They both knew it wasn’t true.
***
Hugo was surprised to find the king waiting for him in the throne room. He was sitting cross-legged in the center of the floor, his eyes closed, his sword lying naked on his lap. His eyes fluttered open when Hugo entered, and he rose, sheathed his sword with a subtle motion, and bowed. “I thought you would come back,” he said.
“Why?”
The king’s shoulder twitched with the ghost of a shrug. “Dragons love the night.”
Hugo took his place in the center of the floor. He felt Molad’s emotions bubbling at the edges of his consciousness, sifting into his thoughts, his heart. He bristled at the sensation, then forced himself to surrender.
Good, Molad said. We will share.
Hugo could still feel their body. He could still move it too, as long as Molad allowed, just as Molad could move it with his permission. Their thoughts and emotions ran together as well. Hugo felt alarm at the emptiness running through Molad’s heart, like a river that ran unchanging across the face of a fluctuating world. The darkness in it unsettled him. It was like peering into a black abyss. But there was beauty there too, unlike anything he had felt before, and freedom like a dark, soaring anarchy of thought.
Yes, Molad said. Yes. I will move the body. You will silence the mind.
Molad took a step and Hugo let him do it, choosing to trust, choosing to allow. He did not try to still their thoughts. It was too difficult. There was too much to process. He simply allowed them to come and go as they pleased. They were sporadic at first, his own fears and nervousness whirling together with Molad’s dark dreams of power, of joy, of secrets held in a dragon’s mind beneath the earth.
They moved together, but it was a different dance than the one the king of the gnomes had made. It was their own: the dance of the Mage of Light and Darkness. Then that too faded away. The place where Hugo ended and Molad began became hazy, indistinct, until neither of them could find it, until neither of them could remember being separate from each other.
And when their separate selves were forgotten, a new being was born, a being with no name, no beginning, no end, and no identity beyond the dance. It lunged, pivoting with a quickness that would have defied the human prince. Its sword licked out, catching the low light of the dwindling fire in a bead, sent it flying with a flick across the room at the silent watcher, the small man with an inhuman strength in his bones, the gnome king. The dancer moved across the room, blending into darkness, flying out of it with the strength of the earth and a raised sword. Passion filled the dancer, an anger older than the stars, and it struck.
There was the loud, crisp ringing of steel, and Hugo shook his head, trying to regain his thoughts, trying to remember what had happened. His own long sword rested against the king’s shorter one, upraised to block a death blow that he could not remember making.
The kin
g lowered his sword slowly, and sheathed it again. He looked at Hugo as if he had not seen him properly before.
“You are ready.”
***
When morning came, Hugo, Animus, and Cannon followed Thieutukar into the depths of the castle. They descended stair after twisting stone stair until Hugo decided that the ancient fortress must have been started on the bottom of a canyon and then built up; nobody could have dug a foundation so deep. Minutes passed, and still more, until they came upon the dungeons. Hugo was relieved to find them empty, but could not miss the signs that they had been full before. There were scratches on the walls, and dark spots in the stone that could not be cleaned out.
At the lowest level of the dungeon, the king came to a door of solid stone. It bore no markings, no handle or hinges. Hugo wondered for an instant how he knew it was a door at all, and then dismissed the thought. After all, sometimes when you least expect it, you see things for what they really are without trying at all.
The king placed his hand on the door and whispered something—his name, Hugo thought—and the door swung inward, revealing a steep, narrow stairway of black stone, clear as glass, leading into darkness.
“It goes down for a very long way,” the king said. “It is a couple hours’ walk, and I’m afraid you will have to go in darkness…Unless you can make light yourself. The space becomes too tight to have a smoking torch. You have no need to fear getting lost, however. There is only one tunnel. All you have to do is continue on until you reach the end of it. It would be dangerous for us to follow you. We will close the door behind you, but we will be here when you return.”
Hugo nodded. He had been expecting that. He peered down the steep staircase into the cold, stone darkness beyond. “And there’s a fire-breathing dragon at the end of it,” he said darkly.
Thieutukar brightened. “No, in fact. His fire is gone.”
Cannon slapped Hugo on the back. “See? One less thing to worry about.”
Magemother: The Complete Series (A Fantasy Adventure Book Series for Kids of All Ages) Page 47
