It was a shadow. And only a shadow.
When its body was destroyed, the pipes fell to the ground and cracked apart. They would not be easily repaired—and the effect of their breaking was obvious and immediate.
The children began to awaken.
The long enchantment they had been under was over.
As their eyes began to clear, they became themselves again. Those who were armed dropped their weapons. Those with friends recognized them and embraced them in a happy, bittersweet reunion—for to some of the children, it had been only a few days since they’d parted. For the rest, it had been years.
Even Burton was sobbing, as his daughter dropped to her knees and embraced him. “Ah, my Lillith, my Lily-girl,” he said. “I’ve missed you so.”
“I missed you, too, Papa,” said the girl.
The shadow hissed and rose into the air. “You may have destroyed my form,” the former Piper hissed, its words like acrid smoke. “But I have not come here alone.”
Hugh the Iron and William the Pig, the half-Clockwork Lost Boys, were still under some kind of compulsion. The destruction of the panpipes seemed not to deter them at all. They marched briskly to the Red Dragon and removed from its deck several large paving stones, which they laid end to end in a path that led from the ship to the clearing where the shadow of the Piper still hovered.
Then one last passenger calmly climbed over the railing of the Red Dragon and, careful to step only on the stones, walked toward the astonished companions.
It was Daedalus.
“You gave your word the children would not be harmed,” the inventor said to the shadow.
“And none of them have been,” the shadow hissed. “Yet. You said you would deliver all the Caretakers to me as children, yet when I arrived, I find them fully grown.”
“They wouldn’t look into the Well,” replied Daedalus. “Only the one, Jack, and I don’t see him here.”
“One is not three, Daedalus,” the shadow said. “Had they been children, I might have entranced them with the pipes, and we would be done with this.”
Laura Glue cried out in happiness and ran forward to embrace Daedalus, not realizing what was actually taking place. Charles reached out and caught her, then pulled her close.
“What is this?” Aven exclaimed. “What have you done, Daedalus? What have you allied yourself with?”
“He was against us all along,” said John. “That’s why he wanted us to look into Echo’s Well, and that’s why the History is missing the last pages. It was all a trap.”
“Try not to think too badly of me, Aven,” Daedalus said, as Hugh and William continued to remove stones from the ship and lay them around the clearing. “I simply did what I must, as we all do. You were motivated by love of your son. While I…I simply wanted to get out of that damned city of children. That accursed tower where I’ve been trapped for all these centuries.”
“So much for repentance and redemption, eh, Daedalus?” said John.
“Spare me your Christian balms,” said Daedalus. “My nephew had humiliated me, and while it wasn’t my intent to kill him, I couldn’t let his offense simply pass.”
“And what of Icarus?” put in Bert. “What of your own son?”
Daedalus started, then regained his composure. “Regrettable. I never wanted it to happen. My designs were not perfected then, so it really wasn’t my fault. It was an accident, that’s all. An accident.”
“You have to be the worst father I’ve ever heard of,” said Charles.
“You’re forgetting Jason,” said Bert, with a sorrowful look at Hugh and William.
“Peas in a pod,” Charles stated. “Both despicable.”
“Enough talk!” spat the shadow. “Honor your bargain, Daedalus. Destroy them.”
“I hate to deflate your balloon,” said Charles, “but the panpipes are broken. You no longer control your army of children, and those two”—he gestured at Hugh and William—“are no match for all of us.”
“Fortunately for us,” Daedalus replied, “Hugh and William are not the only servants at my command.”
Daedalus raised a hand and made a complicated gesture with his fingers, and an instant later the companions heard a thunderous noise, followed by a tremor.
“Is that thunder?” said Burton, looking up at the dark skies.
“It isn’t thunder,” declared Charles. “It’s the sound of a master chessman making an excellent move.”
The sounds were echoing across the islands with a regular rhythm now, and far to the north, Talos and the other bronze Clockwork giants moved into view. They would be upon them in minutes.
“Check,” said Daedalus. “And mate.”
The shadow laughed, and all John could think was that it sounded nothing at all like crickets.
The entrance to the cave was guarded by a dozen children, all dressed in dirty animal skins. Of the beasts he could identify, there was a fat boy in a bearskin, three girls dressed as foxes, two smaller boys dressed as possums, and one boy who had unsuccessfully clothed himself as a skunk and who stood a distance away from the rest.
As Jack approached, the children jumped to attention, raising crude, handmade stone and wooden weapons, but they relaxed immediately when they saw it was a child like themselves.
“Did you bring us anything to eat?” one of the foxes asked. “The King of Crickets keeps f’rgetting, and he hits us if we ask.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t,” said Jack.
“Drat and darn,” the girl said. “I’m tired of standing guard. I want to play a different game.”
“You’re playing a game?” Jack said.
“Yes,” one of the other girls said, nodding. “Do you want to play? I’m Boo Radish. Who be you?”
“I be—I mean, I’m Jack,” said Jack. “What kind of game?”
“There’s a monster inside,” said the skunk boy. “He looks like a normal Longbeard, but he’s a monster just the same, and we have to keep him here, in the cave.”
“So you’re the frogs, then?” asked Jack.
The second fox clapped her hands. “You do know the game! Why didn’t you say you were a Lost Boy?”
The fat bear puffed out his chest. “If we guard the monster, we get to be Lost Boys too.”
“I only just found out I was one,” said Jack. “Can I go in?”
The beast-children moved aside deferentially, and Jack and his two shadows stepped to the mouth of the cave. Not far inside was a frame to which the “monster” the children guarded had been tied.
“I think I have something that belongs to you,” said Jack.
“Thank you for bringing it back,” answered Peter. “Did Jamie send you, then?”
“In a manner of speaking,” said Jack. “I’m one of his replacements. I came with Laura Glue.”
“That’s my girl!” the old man said. “So, Caretaker…would you like to play a game?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Unraveled
The bronze giants were nearly upon them, and the children had begun to panic. The adults were doing their best to maintain order, but it was impossible—there were too many children, and there was no way to organize any kind of defense against so massive an enemy. All the while, Daedalus and the Piper’s shadow merely watched the chaos taking place around them.
Only John kept his wits about him.
“There are no coincidences,” he shouted to Bert over the din. “Even with the Time Storm, we had to have come here for a reason! There has to be a purpose to all of this!”
“What are you thinking, John?” asked Bert.
“This! Look at this!” John said, pointing to the illustration of Autunno in the Geographica. In the very center was an image of a chariot, drawn by two dragons.
“Medea’s chariot,” said Bert. “What of it?”
“Look at the names inscribed underneath!”
Bert looked, and his eyes widened in shock and surprise. One of the dragons was Samaranth, and the other w
as a green-gold beast called Azer.
They were chessmen that aspired to be continents…
“And look at the shape!” said John. “Look at the entirety of the Underneath! What does it look like to you?”
“Rings within rings,” Bert gasped, as what John was driving at dawned on him. “It’s a giant Ring of Power!”
“Will it work?”
“Where do you think the kings of the Archipelago got their authority?” said Bert. “It had to begin somewhere! Why not here, where the original legends of heroes began? It’s worth trying!”
But it was nearly too late. With thundering footsteps, the bronze giants began encircling the shore, towering above the companions and the children.
Quickly John grabbed Aven and Stephen and explained what he wanted them to do. Then he showed the prince of the Archipelago the Summoning for the dragons and told him to read it aloud.
The giant Clockworks were nearly upon them, trapping them all. There was no escape, either to the hills or to the ships. Unless they did something then and there, there would be no battle.
“Read it!” John instructed Stephen, thrusting the Imaginarium Geographica at him. “Read it!”
Stephen nodded and knelt, bending protectively over the book.
By right and rule
For need of might
I call on thee
I call on thee
By blood bound
By honor given
I call on thee
I call on thee
For life and light your protection given
From within this ring by the power of Heaven
I call on thee
I call on thee
As he finished, the last of the giant bronze automatons moved into place. They were surrounded.
The bronze giants were all that was necessary to turn the frightened children into obedient, subdued drones once more.
Children know when the threat of violence is real and cannot be defied. And so when William and Hugh began to herd them onto the ships, it was in silence and order.
Daedalus had ordered the adults, both Caretakers and Croatoans, to kneel in the sand.
“It was an excellent effort,” Daedalus said, “but ultimately futile.” He turned to Aven. “Don’t worry. None of the children will be harmed. Whatever you may think of me, I’m not without feeling.”
“What will you do with them?” asked Charles.
“Those who choose to return to our Crusade will come on the ships,” said the Piper’s shadow. “The rest will be returned to the Minotaur’s care on Aiaia.”
“Imprisoned in the labyrinth, you mean!” Charles said.
“It’s better than death,” said Daedalus, “as I’m afraid you’re about to learn.”
“What are you waiting for?” Burton whispered to John. “Don’t bother denying it—you, the wench, and the old man are all watching the skies. What are you expecting to happen?”
“I don’t know,” John replied. “A miracle, perhaps.”
“Well, I’m not going to simply die kneeling in the sand,” said Burton. “And neither will the Croatoans. But…” He hesitated. “If you do have some miracle planned, will you do what you can to save my daughter as well? Please?”
John drew back and looked at the leader of the Indians. His face was open, sincere. He had made a request but had also meant it as an apology.
“Of course,” John finally said. “If it is in my power to do so, I’ll save your girl.”
“Thank you,” said Burton.
“What in Hades is that?” the Piper’s shadow exclaimed.
John and the others looked to the sky. The dark clouds continued to roll and churn, but there, to the west, something else was approaching.
“The dragons?” exclaimed Bert. “Is it, John? Did the summoning work, after all?”
But it wasn’t the dragons moving beyond the clouds. It was something much, much bigger.
Jack had found Peter Pan, the man who had summoned them to the Archipelago, and he carried with him Peter’s shadow, which had guided him to the last island in the Underneath, and all of this had been done under terrible circumstances and against impossible odds. But there was one more obstacle Jack could not seem to overcome.
He could not enter the cave.
A peal of laughter sounded from somewhere behind Peter, and Jack could just make out the image of a beautiful woman in an ornate mirror that hung on the cave wall.
“He doesn’t know, Peter,” she said. “He doesn’t realize what he has to give up to come in.”
“He is a Caretaker of the Imaginarium Geographica,” said Peter. “I’m sure he understands sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?” Jack said, taking a step back. “What do I have to sacrifice? Why can’t I enter the cave?”
“This is the center of the Underneath,” said Peter. “One of the oldest islands that exist. And nothing can come into the cave that isn’t real.”
“I don’t understand,” said Jack. “What isn’t real?”
“Tell me,” said Peter. “Who are you? Who are you really, Jack?”
“How did you know my name?”
“We’ve met before,” Peter told him, “which is how I know this isn’t really you. Now tell me,” he said again, “who…are…you?”
“I—I’m just Jack.”
“No,” said Peter, “you aren’t. You can’t be, if we’re to save your friends.”
“I know what you’re asking of me,” Jack said dully. “It—it’s just difficult to give it up.”
“I know,” said Peter. “Perhaps better than anyone. But you can’t stay a child forever. To choose to speak into Echo’s Well is to choose illusion. To choose to avoid the responsibilities of being an adult. The real trick—the real choice—is to keep the best of the child you were, without forgetting when you grow up.
“It is the best of both worlds, Jack. Being a child is to believe in magic everywhere….
“…but even Peter Pan had to grow up one day.”
It may have taken minutes or hours for the massive apparitions to come clearly into view in the diffused light of the Underneath, and the clouds of the Time Storm were still floating thickly in the air. But when the clouds finally began to dissipate, and the companions could see clearly once more, they saw giants.
The great creatures were almost incomprehensible: They were chessmen that aspired to be continents, and they moved with the tectonic grace that their smaller mechanical counterparts lacked.
There was no booming tremor with the footsteps of the giants, which towered over the Clockworks as if the automatons were toys; just motion and coiled energy.
“Is that what we summoned?” asked John. “Stephen called giants to us instead of dragons?”
Bert spoke in a hush, awed by the sight. “The giants were the architects of the Rings of Power. I didn’t know they still existed, much less that they could be summoned.”
The giants were almost shapeless, having only a vaguely human form. They had no faces, but only a single circular eye, which glowed in the center of their foreheads.
Daedalus shouted in dismay and gestured for Talos and the automatons to attack, but the machines were more than outmatched.
The giants turned their gaze to the bronze Clockworks, and a great booming horn sounded: the language of Titans.
As the companions watched, the automatons stopped in mid-stride and slowly turned to stone.
The giants turned their gaze to the sea, and John counted seven of them as they moved past the island, stepping over it in a single stride. A few more steps to the east, and they were already over the horizon. In moments they had disappeared completely.
“Decide, Jack,” said Peter. “You cannot return my shadow unless you enter the cave. But you cannot enter the cave without deciding who you really are. And if you cannot, I will die.”
Jack was struggling. He had been a child again for too long, and he was uncertain what to do.
“It’s n
o use, Peter,” said the woman in the mirror. “He’ll never be able to do it. After all,” she added scornfully, “he is only a child.”
“But that’s just it,” said Jack. “I—I’m not a child.”
The beast-children stood back in mixed wonder and fear. Something was happening to the strange boy who’d flown there in the living ship.
Having not just thought the thoughts but actually spoken the words, Jack grew taller, and his features lengthened, thickened. He was becoming older before their very eyes, adding days, weeks, then faster, months…
And then months became a year—a terrible thing for a Lost Boy to contemplate…
“I do know who I am,” Jack said. “I’m an Oxford scholar.”
One year, two years, five years, ten…
“I’m a Caretaker of the Imaginarium Geographica.”
Ten years, and five more…
“I know,” said Jack, with the surety and confidence of a fully grown man. “I know what needs to be done.”
Peter nodded. “And that, boy, is the difference.”
Jack stepped into the cave. Instantly the second shadow detached itself and flew across the floor, attaching itself to Peter.
As Jack watched, the color rose in the old man’s cheeks, and his eyes, dull a moment ago, glittered with life. He took a deep breath, then another, and another, and then lifted his head and looked at Jack. He was smiling.
Jack motioned to the beast-children. “Come on,” he said to them. “This isn’t a monster. Let’s get him freed, neh?”
And the Lost Boys nodded their heads and did as he asked—not because he was an adult, who must be obeyed, but because they knew the boy called Jack was still somewhere inside the Longbeard, and Jack could be trusted.
“Let’s get you into the light,” said Jack. “And then let’s go rescue your granddaughter.”
The Piper’s shadow screamed in fury. And Daedalus was at a loss. In a single move, all their plans had been turned to dust.
“That’s what you call a checkmate,” said Charles.
The Search for the Red Dragon Page 27
