Intangible

by C. A. Gray

  “What’s Carlion?” said Cole.

  Isdemus turned to Peter, inviting him to reply, but Peter could only stare at him dumbly. He hadn’t expected that he could still be surprised by anything, but he was shocked all the same. When Peter remained silent, Isdemus answered Cole, “In the days of King Arthur, Carlion was the name of the general region in which Camelot was built. When Camelot fell, of course, the ruins reverted to the name of the region. The city has been called Carlion ever since.”

  “So we are in a city!” said Cole, elbowing Peter.

  “Not just any city,” Peter murmured, gripping the edges of the table until his knuckles turned white. “We’re in Camelot.”

  Chapter 11

  “But… Carlion is still in England, right?” said Lily.

  “Duh,” said Cole. “Where do you think all the legends took place?”

  “Well, some of them were set in Wales, weren’t they?” she said.

  “We are still in England,” Isdemus confirmed.

  “Still in East Anglia, too?” Lily prompted, with a glance at Peter, reminding him of their argument on that point the night before. Isdemus nodded.

  “How is it that none of us have ever heard of this place then, if we all grew up just miles away from it?” Cole cut in, and then added, remembering Lily, “Well, most of us, anyway.”

  “You hadn’t heard of it because Carlion is protected by the Forest Sauvage, also known as the Enchanted Forest, and by the nimbi,” said Isdemus. “The penumbra know that Carlion exists, but they cannot find it. The Enchanted Forest also ensures that no human who finds his way into the forest ever stumbles upon the city… unless of course he is specifically looking for it, in which case the nimbi sentinels will assist him.”

  “Why don’t you want humans to find Carlion?”

  “Because they all have a specter attached to them, of course,” said Lily.

  Isdemus nodded. “Well put. However, Cole, we do want the humans themselves to discover that there is more to the world than meets the eye. Everyone who comes to Carlion has the opportunity, once he or she is sufficiently well trained, to go out into the world and spread the word.”

  “There must not be many of them doing that, though,” said Cole. “I mean, I’ve certainly never heard about this place before.”

  “There are a good number of them in the outside world, but Watchers must be very careful. Too much information too soon will have the opposite of the desired effect. Often those who might have become believers instead regard the entire thing as utterly ridiculous, and then we have created a nearly insurmountable prejudice.”

  “So the people who live here were all recruited?” said Cole.

  “Some were, but most were born here, and their ancestors were recruited many, many years ago. After all, the Watchers have been at it for approximately 1500 years.”

  Peter happened to glance over at Lily and saw that she was trembling. “Then why,” she demanded, her voice barely above a whisper, “If you people are purposely trying to find Seers, why didn’t you ever find me? Why did you leave me all alone… all those years… thinking I was crazy? Weren’t doing your jobs very well, were you?”

  Isdemus was silent for a moment, as if giving validation to her fury. Then he said quietly, “We do our best, Miss Portman. But we are imperfect.”

  “There aren’t many Seers in the world, though, are there?” she demanded, her voice still resonating at a high pitch. “Peter and his dad were the first two people without penumbra I’d ever seen in my life, and I noticed immediately! How hard can it be?”

  “I understand your frustration, Miss Portman, and I am very sorry for what you must have been through. I suspect my explanations would sound to you like excuses, and would only anger you further.”

  “Try me!”

  He sighed. “Very well, then. Seers usually have certain peculiar behavior patterns, which earn them a particular reputation –”

  “Of being clairvoyant?” Lily interrupted angrily. “Or crazy, maybe?”

  Isdemus inclined his head. “Something like that, yes. Once the number of people in a Seer’s immediate circle reaches a certain critical mass, word usually gets back to the Watchers in the surrounding area. I am only guessing, of course, but I would imagine in your case it was difficult because you were rarely in one location long enough to reach that critical mass.”

  “So it’s because I’m not just a Seer, but an orphan as well?” Her question was defiant, but Isdemus did not react.

  “In a word, yes.”

  Nobody dared to speak, waiting for Lily to break the silence. Finally, she drew a shuddering breath and closed her eyes for a long moment. Then she made an effort to quiet her voice to a normal pitch and said as steadily as she could, “So how big is this place, then?”

  Isdemus nodded with a smile, acknowledging that by changing the subject, she offered at least some small measure of forgiveness. Then he answered, “There are natural limits to how large it can be, of course, based on the locations of cities in the outside world, and the English Channel. Aside from these barriers, we can grow as large as we like and remain undetected.”

  Brock snorted and sat back in his chair, folded his arms over his chest, and stared defiantly at his plate.

  “There are also those who are resistant to accept even the evidence of their own eyes,” said Isdemus shrewdly, eyeing Brock, who set his jaw and refused to acknowledge him. “That is the state of most people in the world. In fact, in a sense, everybody is a Seer, just as everybody is capable of speaking the Ancient Tongue. Yet people see only what they expect to see, and will search for evidence to support what they already believe. It is a rare person indeed who is humble enough to admit that he has been wrong.”

  Everybody shifted uncomfortably, except for Brock, who continued to stare stubbornly at his empty plate. “You’re all completely mental,” he growled. “I’m getting out of here the first chance I get.”

  “You will have to wait for your parents before that will be an option, I’m afraid,” said Isdemus, unperturbed.

  Cole cleared his throat in an effort to decrease the tension. “So I don’t know about the rest of you, but I want to go exploring.”

  “Me too,” said Lily, and pushed her chair back as she stood up. Peter and Brock rose too. Peter was curious about Carlion, but now he dreaded it also. More information did not necessarily seem to be a good thing, and a piece of him wondered if he’d be better off in ignorance.

  Isdemus smiled and pressed his long-boned fingers together. “If you take the road from the castle courtyard and follow it through the fields, it will take you straight into town, beyond which you will find the gatehouse and the entrance to the city. If you wish to explore the Enchanted Forest, I request that you ask one of the nimbi to be your guide, or you might not find your way back. I must warn you, however, not to venture beyond the Enchanted Forest in any event. Word will have spread among the penumbra that you were the one who stopped the car, Peter. If one of them sees you, you will be recognized. I need not remind you that last night, even with protection, you barely escaped with your lives.”

  Peter shuddered.

  The corridor from the Great Hall to the front entrance was at least partially familiar. At the front entrance stood a servant in the same red and gold livery that Gerald had worn. His eyes flickered from one face to the next, but he did a double-take when he saw Peter, and his eyes widened.

  “Beg pardon, sir. Are you the guests that arrived last night with Master Kane?” he said, with a thick Scottish accent.

  “Er, yes,” said Peter, and stuck out his hand. “Peter Stewart.”

  Understanding dawned on the guard’s face. “Bruce Stewart’s son!”

  “Er, yeah,” said Peter, startled that even the guard knew his dad.

  “We’ve been talking about you boys ever since you was wee little things –” he began, and then shook his head and scolded himself. “Excuse me, sir. I am forgetting my place. I hope you and yo
ur friends enjoy your day.” Then he pulled on the heavy ropes that operated the front door to the castle, revealing the jagged teeth of the elevated portcullis and beyond it, a very long, empty courtyard.

  “I guess he means you and your dad?” Lily whispered, perplexed.

  Peter pursed his lips. “But he said since we were ‘wee little things’ –”

  “Notice how he didn’t even bother to ask who we were,” Brock muttered to Cole behind them.

  “For once it’s not all about you, is it?” Lily snapped.

  Peter and Cole’s eyebrows raised and they met one another’s eyes, but didn’t dare comment. Brock only glowered at her back.

  The courtyard was mostly made of smooth, bare sandstone, except for a circular lawn at the center. In the middle of the lawn was a fountain, where water gently spilled from a stone sculpture of two intertwined dragons. Just beyond the courtyard, a rolling tangled walkway weaved through a perfectly manicured garden, secured with massive trees and extending far behind the castle.

  “Is that a maze?” Cole asked, gesturing towards the garden with his head.

  “A pair of dragons,” said Peter in an odd tone.

  “Excuse me?”

  “The hedges were planted in the shape of the Pendragon crest, just like the fountain,” he said, gesturing to it. “You can see it from the Tower Room.” He pointed to the tallest tower of the castle, straight above the garden, with a window seat jutting out, unsupported except for a buttress of stone.

  “How do you know that?” said Cole in wonder.

  Peter gave a wry smile. “Dad didn’t spare the details. He really wanted to paint the story for me. I should have known he couldn’t have made all this up. He’s not that creative.”

  On the opposite side of the castle from the garden were the stables, but beyond that, the castle seemed to be effectively isolated, surrounded by large stretches of cultivated land and pastures.

  “Think we ought to see if we can borrow some horses?” said Lily, indicating the stables. “It looks like this place is too big to explore on foot.” Without waiting for a response, she headed off in their direction, and the others followed.

  When they rounded the bend, they saw one of the stable hands with a bucket of feed in one hand and smudges of dirt on both cheeks. He was a small, red-headed boy, and his face broke into an eager smile when he saw them.

  “I heard there were outsiders in th’ castle!” he exclaimed, and rushed over to shake all of their hands enthusiastically, heedless of the filthy state of his palms. “That’s so exciting! What’s it like out there? I’ve been here my whole life, and I’ve heard stories, o’ course, but all of ‘em are second or third hand and I don’t know if any of ‘em are true or not, but they sure are interesting. Anyway, I’m Eustace! Oh – blimey,” he said, and stopped cold when he got a good look at Peter. “If you don’t look exactly like –”

  “I know,” said Peter quickly, wishing to get past this uncomfortable part of the introduction.

  Eustace went on, eyes never leaving Peter’s face, “I’ve never seen the real painting, o’ course. Only Watchers are allowed in the gallery, and I’ll be a Watcher eventually, and the youngest there ever was, even younger than Master Kane was, I’ll wager! There are reprints all over Carlion, though. It’s on bookmarks and posters and stamps, and…” he stopped, as if something had just occurred to him. “Wait a minute. That’s gotta mean… are you in the line?”

  “You mean is he a descendant of King Arthur?” said Cole.

  “Isdemus thinks he is,” said Lily, just as Peter said, “Of course not,” and Brock said, “Load of rubbish.”

  Eustace looked briefly perplexed by the multiple replies, and then said to Peter, “So, who are you, then?”

  “Peter Stewart,” he said awkwardly. “And yes, Bruce Stewart is my father.”

  “Well, he looks nothing like King Arthur, does he?” Eustace said rhetorically. “’Course that don’t mean nothing, I s’pose. Most of ‘em didn’t, did they?”

  Suddenly a thought occurred to Peter that made his heart flutter in his chest. “Wait a minute. How many people are in the line, Eustace?” He looked at the others and explained excitedly, “After thousands of years, there have to be hundreds of us at least, don’t there? How many are they watching?”

  Eustace looked as if he couldn’t be more pleased with that question. “Well,” he said conspiratorially, and waved for them all to come closer, even though there was nobody else around. Peter was too eager not to humor him. “I hear things in the castle, y’know? I’m little and I hide real well, and nobody sees me, and you’d be surprised at the things I know! Pretty soon Isdemus’ll see he can’t keep from making me one of the Watchers for much longer ‘cause I’m dead useful, I am –”

  “Eustace!” Peter said impatiently.

  The little boy jumped. “Sorry! So, to answer your question direct-like, there are thousands of descendants all over the world now, but they don’t watch ‘em all, ‘cause the prophecy is pretty specific, see?”

  “What does it say about looking like King Arthur?” said Cole eagerly, casting a furtive glance at Peter.

  “I dunno what the prophecy says and what it doesn’t say, the Watchers keep that under lock and key, but I’m gonna find out just any day now, I’m getting closer and closer, and I’ve heard ‘em talk about some of it! Never got any specifics yet, but –”

  “How many people can the prophecy refer to, Eustace?” Peter cut him off. It was all he could do not to take the little boy by the collar and shake him.

  “Hmm, lessee, I think… I think I heard ‘em say just a couple days ago that they found another one, so now it could be one o’ three! I think there could be others they haven’t found yet, ‘cause they lose track of people sometimes, y’know what I mean?”

  Peter leaned back from the little huddle around Eustace, and exhaled deeply. He felt about a hundred pounds lighter.

  “So I was right!” he gloated to no one in particular. “I’m not the Child of the Prophecy!”

  “The Child of the Prophecy?” Eustace echoed in a shriek, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. “Bloody hell! I thought you were just in the line… but...well, o’course it’s you! I mean, blimey, look at you!”

  “The looks could be a coincidence,” said Peter impatiently.

  “The looks and the accident, though?” Cole countered.

  “Plus there’s the fact that the Watchers are sure it is you!” Lily put in.

  “Excuse me!” Peter snapped at Lily and Cole, “I’m trying to be positive here!”

  “But… why wouldn’t you want to be the One?” Eustace said in wonder. “Wouldn’t that just be the best and most glamorous thing in the whole wide world?”

  “No!” Peter snapped. “You know what would be the best and most glamorous thing in the whole wide world? If this all turned out to be a bad dream, and I could go back to King’s, and do my research at uni, and get on with my normal life –”

  “Spoken like a true hero,” Brock muttered bitterly.

  “Fine, you want to be the Child of the Prophecy? You can have it!” Peter shot back. With that, he turned on his heel and stalked off towards the dirt road on foot. He heard Eustace asking Brock with interest, “What’s your surname?” and then when Brock told him, the stable hand concluded, “Oh, no, that ain’t one o’ the names I heard, can’t be you…”

  Chapter 12

  “Peter, get back here, you need a horse!” Lily called after him in exasperation.

  “I’ll walk!” he shouted back.

  “Well then we’ll just explore without you!”

  “Fine!”

  “What’s he mad at you for?” Cole asked Lily, bewildered.

  “I don’t know, he’s always mad at me for something, isn’t he?” Lily muttered to herself.

  “Can’t imagine why, you’re so pleasant,” Brock scowled.

  “Speak for yourself!” Lily shot back.

  Cole and Brock had mounted
their horses impatiently, and Lily held the reins of a beautiful mare named Candace, while Eustace stood uncertainly holding the reins to a dappled horse named Stroud that was to be Peter’s.

  “He’ll come back and get him when he wants to stop being so stubborn,” Lily said to Eustace, rolling her eyes.

  Just then Eustace saw movement towards the entrance of the castle and turned to exclaim, “Master Kane!” Then his face fell as he looked at Peter’s horse. “Uh oh.”

  “Were you giving my horse away, Eustace?” called Kane, his tone surprisingly good-natured.

  Peter stopped walking down the path and turned to watch what was going on. He wandered back a few steps. “What are you doing?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing at Kane.

  “I’m coming with you,” Kane announced. “As your guide.”

  “But these are th’ last four horses!” said Eustace. “I don’t have a fifth…”

  “It’s fine, Peter was gonna walk anyway,” said Lily with a smirk.

  “We don’t need a guide,” said Peter to Kane. “Isdemus said it was a straight shot into town. We won’t get lost.”

  “Sure, it’s a straight shot if you keep to the main roads, but what’s the fun in that?” Kane replied, taking the reins from Peter and mounting Stroud before Peter had a chance to protest. “Come on. I’ll show you the real Carlion.”

  “Why?” said Cole. His tone was the closest to suspicion that Peter had ever heard from him.

  “Why?” Kane repeated innocently. “Because you’re new here! I was new myself once, and it would’ve been nice if someone had shown me around.” He spurred Stroud’s flanks with his heels, and Stroud began to canter down the main road. Brock and Cole exchanged a look and shrugged, following him.

  “Come on, you can ride with me,” Lily conceded to Peter. But she mounted first.

  When Peter climbed up behind her, he muttered, embarrassed, “What do I do, hold your waist or something?”

  “If you don’t want to fly off,” she said, bemused, and dug her heels in.