Milo and the Dragon Cross

by Robert Jesten Upton

  “We shall lead you to dinner now. The king and his court await you.”

  “They’re waiting for me?” Milo asked, abashed. “I’m sorry! I had no idea they were waiting for me!”

  “It’s all right,” the maiden told him. “They aren’t waiting exactly. They’re just ready to serve dinner when you arrive. There’s a sort of ceremony that we do for our guests.”

  “Let’s go then,” Milo said, picking up Bori so he could see everything from the vantage of Milo’s shoulder without anyone thinking he was just some stray cat.

  The way down to the dining hall was just as confusing as the way in had been before. Milo could make no sense of the layout of the castle. They arrived in a cavernous gallery lighted like Christmas with banks of candles that somehow made the unlighted corners and the high ceilings appear even darker. People wearing satins, velvets, fur trimmings, and gold sat at long tables set with plates and flatware, cups of wine at hand. Milo looked for the Crane King. He wasn’t there. On a raised dais at the head of the table sat a stately man who had white hair and a white beard, clipped short. He looked grim and worn despite his fine clothing. To his left sat a woman, the most regal person Milo had ever seen. He had no idea if she was young or old because she could have been either, or both at the same time. Mature was as close as he could get. Her hair was silver, but he couldn’t say whether it was from age. It looked as though it might have always been that color. Most impressive was her beauty. A beauty of kindness. It just melted him to see her.

  “Ahh! Our young friend has arrived!” the man said with pleasure but without standing up. “Please forgive me. Accept our welcome from where we sit. Come here. Your seat is the seat of honor, to my right.”

  Milo was blushing again. He came to the place indicated.

  “I see you don’t recognize me from our encounter earlier today,” the man said. “I am Alerik, the Crane King, whom you met this afternoon. I was in my fisher’s form then. I find it...more suitable than my human shape for my pastime on the marsh. It’s been that way ever since...” He broke off and hesitated as if he were unsure about what to say before finishing his sentence. “Since my infirmity.” Milo noticed then that he was wrapped with blankets from the waist down.

  Alerik continued with introductions. “This is my wife and the Crane Queen, Ayuthaya.”

  The queen smiled warmly and regally. Milo thought to stand and make a bow, hoping that this was the proper thing to do. His ears burned again.

  “And you are...?” Queen Ayuthaya prompted gently.

  Milo realized suddenly that he had not introduced himself. Not to the bird, not to the seneschal, not to the young ladies who had attended him, and not yet to his hosts. His ears burned even hotter.

  “I...pardon me...I’m...it’s all unaccustomed. I’ve never met a king and a queen before. I’m Milo, and this is Boriboreau,” he said.

  “Milo. And Boriboreau,” Alerik said. “Welcome to Crane Castle. May I ask what brings you to such an out-of-the-way place as ours?”

  “I came to look for the Fisher King,” Milo answered. “You see, I’m a contestant in the Magical Scavenger Hunt, and we were told to find the Tor Vitrea—the Glass Tower—and someone suggested that the Fisher King could tell me where it was.”

  Alerik looked thoughtfully at Milo, and Ayuthaya looked down at her hands, as if something were slightly embarrassing. Milo’s ears colored further.

  “We shall speak of these things later,” Alerik said. “But first, we shall proceed with our dinner.”

  A glance around the room told Milo that, although the places were set, the plates were empty. There was no food on the tables. Everyone was silent and waiting.

  A door opened at the end of the dining hall and a page, dressed in the white, black, and red livery of the castle, came in. He was carrying a crossbow, held out in front of him as if to offer it to someone. If this were not odd enough, the response from the people at the tables was even odder. They began to weep and moan as if in terrible grief.

  “What’s going on here, Bori?” whispered Milo to the cat, hoping that Bori could give him some reasonable explanation, like doors that were there only when you needed them.

  “I have no idea,” Bori answered. “Some sort of silliness you humans call customs, I suppose. I hope the fish arrives soon.”

  The page stopped right in front of Milo and lifted the crossbow as if to offer it to him. Milo sat still, hoping that he wasn’t expected to actually take the thing, and Alerik nodded to the page silently, releasing him. The page turned and left with the crossbow through a door on the opposite side from the one where he had entered.

  Now three young women came in the same way that the page had. Their heads were bowed and they wore veils, all in white, without any of the red or black. It made them look like apparitions. A shiver ran down Milo’s spine.

  A fourth girl followed them. She was dressed the same way, except she held her head high and carried a large platter. On the platter was a large baked fish.

  Milo recognized the girl. She was the same one who had been the leader of the maidens who had waited on him earlier. He blushed, in memory of the—at least for him—unusual bathing experience. The three maidens ahead of her stepped to either side as she stopped before the king, held up the heavy platter with the same formality that the page had displayed the crossbow, and bowed her head in respect.

  The platter with the fish must have been very heavy, because Milo could see the strain in her arms as she lifted it. He hoped that someone would help her, but no one did. The king nodded, and she slid the platter onto the table before him, took a step back, and waited.

  “May I introduce my daughter, the Crane Princess Erisa,” Alerik said to Milo. “You may serve, now,” he told her, with the formal introduction done.

  She used a serving knife and fork to separate the tender, thick flesh of the fish from the bones. The three other girls came with plates to receive a serving before placing them in front of the diners. Milo received his plate first, then the king and queen. Even this large fish would not be enough for the whole table of at least two dozen. Yet the four girls set out serving after serving.

  Milo wondered how this could be managed. Before he really considered what he was saying, he turned to his host. “Excuse me, Sir. Who is to be served?”

  Dead silence took the hall. Erisa and the attendants froze. If it had been subdued before, the silence was now deafening. Milo’s ears flamed and the heat spread. He had really done it now. Why oh why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut?

  Alerik cleared his throat. “What...did you say?”

  “I just said”—Milo took a deep breath—”that even if that’s a large fish, it can’t be enough to feed so many.”

  Alerik sat breathless, as if someone had just whacked him senseless. Ayuthaya’s face, which had instantly brightened as if in expectation, collapsed again. A muted groan rose from the onlookers.

  What had just happened? Milo wondered. He guessed that he had committed some terrible blunder, but he hadn’t the faintest inkling of what it could have been. Something about that blasted fish, but what?

  “I mean, I . . .” he stammered. “If the fish . . .”

  Ayuthaya recovered her composure first. “It’s all right, Milo. You see, it’s a very special fish and a very special platter.” She touched the rim of the plate that held the final parcels of the meal. “The platter provides enough for all no matter how many there are to be fed. You couldn’t be expected to know that.”

  Milo, though he appreciated how thoughtfully she had released him from blame, could not disregard the feeling that he had failed them in some way. Something very important had transpired, something that the king and queen, and all the others, had expected of him. He felt awful.

  Meanwhile, Bori had retreated from the noise and confusion with Milo’s portion of fish, slipping under the table to eat it in peace. Milo, when he noticed, decided that it was only fair. Bori had been so keen on that fish ever since the
y’d caught it, and besides, Milo didn’t really have much appetite left.

  “Milo, this must be amazing to you,” Alerik told him. “You can’t know what all this is about. I’ll tell you the story. This was once a prosperous land. Its citizens had all they needed, no more and no less. We were not rich, but we were not poor either. We did not require wealth because we had a purpose, of which I, as the king, was the keeper. We kept the Grail. From the Grail flowed justice and nurture. We cared for the welfare of our land, for whatever guests Fate brought to us, and for one another. As long as any of us had enough, none of us would want.

  “But envy and greed can sneak in to anyplace, no matter how blessed it is. There was one among us who wanted to be the keeper of the Grail and control its bounty for himself, dreaming of the power that it would bring. One day, as I flew out over the lake—as Crane King my lineage gives me that ability—bitter envy and ambitious greed drove this would-be usurper to shoot a bolt from a crossbow at me. He failed to kill me, but his dart lodged in my body, crippling me and limiting my ability to serve as keeper of the Grail. He was banished, but the spell he had laid on the dart made it impossible to extract. Since that day our people have become virtual prisoners of our wounded land, leaving us filled with sorrow and dull suffering. We could only wait until chance brought release from the curse.

  “This was made even more unlikely, since our land was hidden from all but those travelers who sought the Crane King and the blessing of the Grail. We are not permitted to explain the nature of the curse or the meaning of the Grail.

  “Today, when you caught the Great Salmon of Wisdom, which I have sought for so long, it fulfilled an old hope of mine—that by eating its flesh, we could earn release from our misfortune. As you observed, the flesh of even this large fish is not enough to serve all who are present, but the bounty that the platter provides gives us all a portion of the fish so we may gain its blessing. Partaking of the salmon’s flesh is a sacrament all can share.”

  Everyone present sat reverently at their places and ate their portion of the Great Fish. It was only then that Queen Ayuthaya noticed that Milo’s plate was empty.

  “Oh, Milo!” she exclaimed. “What happened to your portion of the fish?”

  Milo looked at his empty plate, then at Bori, who sat washing his face and licking his fur, satisfied with a full stomach and the last lingering taste of his fish feast.

  “Ahh...the cat ate it.”

  Everyone sat shocked. King Alerik broke the tension. “Then Boriboreau shall be a paragon among cats.”

  Everyone laughed. What was done was done. But Queen Ayuthaya noted, “Milo, for all he has done for us, will receive none of the benefit of his catch.”

  Just then, Princess Erisa stepped up to Milo’s place. “Then he shall have this,” she said, and kissed Milo full on the mouth.

  Milo sat back in surprise, licking his lips in reflex. The princess, her own lips shiny with the oil of the fatty salmon, smiled broadly in triumph. “There. That should bestow the wisdom of what an honor it is to receive a kiss from an admiring lady.”

  Milo licked his lips again. They felt like they were buzzing, but not, he thought, from the effects of magical fish.

  More food was brought by attendants. This time there were normal dishes served through conventional means.

  After a time, Milo was able to speak to Alerik privately. “Can you tell me,” Milo asked, “whether other participants of the Magical Scavenger Hunt have come before me? I’m worried about a friend of mine who might have come this way shortly before I did. Her name is Analisa, and she’s about my age. She rides a broom, and I’m worried that she might have gotten in trouble with the same harpies that chased me and Bori.”

  Milo decided to say nothing about Tivik, thinking about how the man had gone off chasing a white hind that was perhaps as magical as the fish had been.

  “She would have had no trouble with the harpies,” Alerik said. “They save their enmity for males. But no one else has come to the Crane Castle except you. Why would they be coming here?”

  “The first clue of the Hunt was to find the Glass Tower. I was told that the Fisher King could give me directions.”

  “So you wish to find the Glass Tower?” the Crane King said. “And find the Fisher King?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Milo replied. “Can you help me?”

  “I can, and I will,” Alerik promised. “You see, I am also known as the Fisher King. The Glass Tower is near here. It belongs to Queen Ayuthaya’s sister. I’m sure she would be glad to take you there and introduce you. After what you have done for us, I’m certain that Blai will help you however she can.

  5

  A Rainbow and a Clew

  Sleeping in a real bed with real sheets and blankets was a welcome luxury, Milo learned, when at last Ayuthaya and Erisa delivered him to his rooms themselves. It had been a long day and a long evening. By the time they left Milo and Bori to burrow under the covers, both were ready to sleep for a week. That wasn’t going to happen, of course. Ayuthaya had promised to take Milo to her sister’s early the next morning.

  Really early the next morning. “We should be there before sunrise,” she insisted. “We must make the trip to the Glass Tower in the dark.”

  Milo promised to be ready, but when the knock came on his chamber door, he couldn’t believe that he had been asleep for more than a few minutes. Part of him heard the knock, but the other part was so comfortable and snug under the covers that the sound had to go on for some time before the part of him that had promised to get up early got the upper hand. Bori, burrowed deep under the covers, was still fast asleep and didn’t stir at all.

  The visitor was persistent however, knocking until the noise dragged Milo out of sleepyland. One of his eyes struggled open just enough to see that it was still dark. “Okay, Mom,” he said with a groan, forgetting entirely that he was not at home in his own bed, but on a grand adventure as a contestant in the Magical Scavenger Hunt. “But it’s Saturday. Can’t I sleep just a little more?”

  It wasn’t until Ayuthaya entered the room—admittedly in her mom mode—that the present situation came crashing back. Milo sprang from the bed, now fully awake. He was very sorry to make a queen wait like that, but also sad that it wasn’t Saturday and this wasn’t his mom.

  “I brought you some clothing better suited for a hard walk,” Ayuthaya said, piling the bundle on the chair where Milo had placed the clothes he’d worn for the dinner the night before. Bori tunneled himself out from under the covers with a yawn and an arched-backed cat stretch while Milo rushed around.

  “We must hurry now,” Ayuthaya said. “I’ll wait just outside your door.”

  Milo splashed his face with water and rubbed his teeth clean (he was lacking a toothbrush), then pulled on the clothes Ayuthaya brought for him: a wool sweater and a pair of sturdy leather trousers. The cat dropped to the floor as Milo dashed out the door. Cedric appeared with a lantern and Ayuthaya handed Milo a felt cloak. “Here, put this on. You’ll need it this morning.”

  When they stepped out of a side entrance to the castle it was still dark, and very wet. They started down a path with Cedric leading with his lamp, followed by Milo and Bori, and Ayuthaya at the rear. Milo apologized for oversleeping, but Ayuthaya excused it, saying only that they must hurry.

  They plunged into the deeper darkness of the forest, the trees dripping with the rain. Milo had to watch closely to avoid tripping over rocks and tree roots in the path yet staying near enough to Cedric’s light to see them. Ayuthaya either knew the way so well that she didn’t need the light, or maybe she could see perfectly well in the darkness.

  Milo was puffing from the pace after a quarter of an hour, and Bori, trotting along at his side, began a “meow, meow” protest until Milo carried him.

  The trail climbed more abruptly from its initial gentle slope to steep switchbacks. It was like trails in the forests and mountains back home, only wet and cold instead of mostly dry and hot. Milo was panting ha
rd as the tree cover thinned, the ground became rockier, and the slope grew more precipitous. The sky lightened; it was now pewter instead of deep black, with pink streaks washing across it here and there. Despite the chill, Milo was sweating under the felt cloak. At last they topped the ridge, and Milo could see a tall tower rising a short distance ahead.

  It was a ghostly thing that gleamed on the side toward the rising light and turned a darkened transparent opposite. In between, the colors of the morning landscape were reflected almost as if there was nothing there at all.

  “The Glass Tower. My sister’s home. Hurry now,” Ayuthaya urged as if they hadn’t been hurrying the whole time. “We must arrive before the sun can clear the horizon.”

  They reached the base of the tower in the next few minutes. Close up, the translucent surface of the tower reflected their images and all that lay around them, without giving any indication of what was inside.

  The thing was monolithic. Milo could see no seams, no indication of how it was put together. It soared into the sky out of the rock like a titanic crystal. Ayuthaya opened a door into the tower that Milo hadn’t seen until she opened it. “Come this way,” she said, and stepped inside.

  Cedric remained behind as they began to climb the winding steps. Light came freely in through the walls, but because of their thickness they distorted the outside views. Milo could see through them but the outside was wavy and distorted. Even the steps were transparent. Milo could see into them, through them, and down into the turning stairway below until the very thickness of the glass obscured the view. It made Milo feel a little queasy and disoriented.

  They climbed and climbed, following the dizzying twist of the staircase. Milo was puffing like a porpoise. But Bori, who was on his own again, bounded up the stairs just ahead of Ayuthaya as if he knew where they were going and was eager to get there.

  At last Ayuthaya came to a halt. They had reached the last landing. Above, through the glass at the top of the tower, Milo could see the dark blue sky and pink-tinged clouds of morning. Ayuthaya opened a door into a room inside the tower and Milo could see what he had glimpsed through the walls as distorted movement and wavy colors.