Milo and the Dragon Cross

by Robert Jesten Upton

  “Stop thinking about losing and concentrate on playing!” Savoy barked. “If you don’t play as well as you can, you really don’t have a chance to win, and if you don’t give it your best, you don’t even deserve to win!” he told them harshly.

  Milo couldn’t see that Savoy’s advice helped improve the morale of the brothers. Their game was the first one to be played that day, and they were just waiting to go on court. Waiting made the tension worse. Milo had such a bad case of butterflies, he couldn’t imagine how Teryl, Deryl, and Beryl were feeling. Sure enough, Teryl threw up just before they were leaving.

  “I’m better now,” he said grimly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “That, and mad! Hey, I don’t care how the Hawks cheat! Remember all we’ve done to get here? Maybe they’ll beat us. So what? I want to make sure they know that they have to be cheaters if they want to win! Come on, guys! Let’s kick their butts!”

  His fury was infectious. Deryl and Beryl lifted out of their funk and turned vicious. Even Milo felt like he wanted to start a fight.

  As the Hawks came onto the court with their usual taunting braggadocio, the Sticks came out in grim silence, taking positions without a word. Their silence was heavy enough to still the crowd, so the Hawk’s catcalls reverberated emptily around the court.

  The first ball was thrown out by the judge. The opposing team’s runner attacked instantly. As the Hawks’ player faked to intimidate Teryl away from the ball, Teryl ignored him and scooped the ball for a pass through the center ring, done so rapidly that the Hawks had no time to react. The ball went through the ring with such force that it sailed all the way in a straight line down the court to ricochet off the rear wall behind the Hawks’ goal. As the ball bounced into the air, Deryl and the goalie jostled each other for position as the two runners came dashing down the court, nearer the goal.

  Analisa, standing at Milo’s side, gripped his arm and called his attention to a faint shimmer in the air. Although Milo couldn’t see how it had been done, the Hawks’ runner had the ball and was dodging Teryl’s defense to take the ball up for a shot through the center court ring. When he took his shot, Teryl made a prodigious leap to catch the ball before it could reach the ring, crashing into the wall, but still in control. The attack on the Hawks’ goal resumed.

  Milo felt like he might puke, too. The game went on like this, with the Sticks unable to score, but with the Hawks unable to escape their courageous defense. Analisa squeezed Milo’s arm hard enough to make him wince, drawing his rapt attention from the play.

  “He knows I’m on to him,” Analisa breathed. “I don’t know if he’s figured out where I am yet, but it won’t be long. What he intends already hurts. He’ll attack as soon as he finds me. I don’t think I can fend him off!”

  “What’ll we do?” Milo’s hackles rose.

  “I don’t know. It’s going to be bad.”

  Milo’s hands went deep in his pockets. For the first time, he realized he was rubbing the stone like mad. Teryl had the ball back in play for the Sticks and made a pass down the court to Deryl. Deryl scooped up the ball and fired it into the rear wall on a trajectory to take it between the goalposts from the rear. It would be a score if the goalie, who had placed himself into position in anticipation of a more direct attempt, couldn’t reach the ball in time. The shimmer began just as Milo expected it to, masking the time delay that would give the goalie the instant he needed, but then faltered. The ball shot through the goal as the goalie threw himself hopelessly behind it.

  The crowd went nuts. The players on both teams, expecting the magical help for a save, stopped stock still, their jaws gaping. The Sticks recovered first, leaping around and high-fiving one another.

  “What happened?” Milo shouted to Analisa over the tumult.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “Something broke up the spell. Just as it was taking hold, it melted. Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything I did.”

  Both were mystified. “Whatever it was,” Analisa went on, “he thinks I did it. He’s searching for me like mad. And boy, is he mad!”

  Too mad, apparently, to pay attention to the game. The score they had made galvanized the Sticks and unraveled the Hawks. It almost seemed that the magic that had failed the Hawks had transferred to the Sticks, not by giving them extra time to make plays, but by putting wings on their feet. They flew around the competition, and before very long they scored again.

  Meanwhile, Analisa was going into a panic. “He’s narrowing in on me!” she told Milo. “I can feel him scanning for me, and building up a spell to blast me with!”

  Milo was so concerned that he forgot the game, too. “We’ve got to get you out of here!” he told her.

  “No! He’ll see us trying to leave and then he’ll know us for sure. I’ve got to sit it out, mask my own magic, and hope he doesn’t identify me before the game is over. Maybe then we can get away in the crowd.”

  Trying to watch the game like all the other people was harrowing. Down in the court, it was clear that the Hawks were on their own and the game was being played on equal terms—only the Sticks were playing with such lightness and the Hawks weren’t even all that good now that they were stripped of their advantage. The game ended with a score of 4-0, Fish Sticks.

  The crowd went wild, and Analisa grabbed Milo’s arm. “It’s not me!” she shouted at him. “It’s you!”

  At that instant, Milo felt the smooth stone in his pocket. He was rubbing it between his fingers compulsively out of anxiety.

  “Run, Milo!” Analisa shouted. “Get out now while everybody’s milling around!”

  He did. He thought he could feel a target on his back, as if he were dodging through people with the crosshairs on him as he attempted to escape. As he came clear of the crowd by passing out of the gallery and over the ridge into the open heather-clad slope beyond, a hand reached out and grabbed him, jerking him aside.

  “Tinburkin!” he exclaimed, expecting much worse.

  “Come on!” the Ranger growled. “Let’s get you out of here! You’re in terrible danger.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You’ve been using the stone.”

  “The—” and he felt its smoothness inside his pocket. “Why? What’s the problem?”

  “It’s something that you must keep secret, although it seems the secret is already out. It’s power is something sought after, at least by a knowledgeable few. Those few, however, happen to be very clever, very determined, and very, very dangerous. And you just blew the cover of one who has spent a long time developing it. His name in Kayn Smith, and I think he’ll do anything to get his hands on that stone. Then he’ll take revenge on you.”

  “I’ll give it to him!” Milo exclaimed.

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort! Besides, it would do you no good. He wouldn’t return the favor. You’ll be safer with the stone than without it.”

  “Then I’ll put it back where I found it.”

  “That would be the same as giving it to him. Smith apparently knew it must be hidden here, and came for it. He holds his grudges dear. He won’t forget you. You’re already on his short list of people he dislikes.”

  “Why? What did I do?”

  “You, with your visit to the Glass Tower, opened the Pilgrimage.”

  “Oh geez,” Milo said, thinking about the evil sorcerers in the stories.

  “Yes. Kayn Smith’s not likely to become a reformed citizen now,” Tinburkin pointed out. “He must be very frustrated to find out that you beat him to the thing he has spent so long trying to track down. It’s ironic, actually. He’s been unable to find the stone because the Pilgrim’s Way has been closed for so long. You show up and open the Rainbow Path, giving him the opportunity to get here, then you beat him by picking up the very thing he came to claim.”

  This was a lot for Milo to absorb. What Tinburkin had just told him brought up so many questions that he could hardly sort them out. But one issue outweighed them all.

  “What’s he going to do to m
e?”

  “Good question. Whatever it is, you won’t like it. So you have to keep him from catching you.”

  “How?”

  “Use the Hunt. Find your own way. It’s your shield as well as your challenge. The stone is the cipher and you are the wild card, so he might have a hard time anticipating what you’re likely to do. That, and don’t let anyone know about that stone, and don’t lose it.”

  9

  Fish Sticks and Red Herrings

  “I know who it is!”

  Analisa gripped Milo’s arm and whispered sharply into his ear as soon as she came into camp the next morning. Milo and Bori had spent the night moving from place to place to avoid the risk of being found. B, T, and D had left to play in the final game. “He’s called Smith. He’s a dark-side sorcerer.”

  “I know,” Milo said miserably.

  “You know?” Analisa replied, surprised and looking crestfallen. “How?”

  “Another friend warned me. What else did you find out about him?”

  “Not much. I went to the other contestants and asked if they knew him. The only one who did was Count Yeroen, and he acted like if I didn’t know who this Smith guy was, he wasn’t going to tell me. But then Aulaires—would you believe she would offer me information?—told me that she had heard about him. She said he’s very secretive, hardly unusual for a dark sorcerer, and that he has an exceedingly vicious reputation.”

  “But you’re all right?” said Milo. “He hasn’t tried to do anything to you, has he?”

  “No. This Smith guy dropped me when he switched to you. I think he knows who I am because he gave me this...this look when I was trying to leave the gallery. It sent a chill clear through me.”

  “What does he look like?” Milo asked, hoping to be able to pick out his enemy in the crowd.

  “Old. Very intense, shifting eyes that go everywhere. Smallish, but otherwise nothing in particular about him stands out.” She stopped, then asked another question. “What did you do to him, Milo? Why did he turn on you?”

  “I don’t know,” Milo answered. He couldn’t tell Analisa about the stone in his pocket and how he had been rubbing it, like a worry stone. Or a wishing stone. “But I wish he hadn’t.” Milo was careful not to touch the stone as he said that. He decided that he had to do something with it, put it someplace where he couldn’t touch it as easily as when it was just sitting in his pocket. Someplace safe, where it wouldn’t get lost. “I’m glad he left you alone, though.”

  “He gives me the willies,” Analisa said, hugging herself as if she were chilled. “I’ve heard about sorcerers of his kind, but he’s the nastiest person I’ve ever actually encountered. You’ll have to be very careful, Milo.”

  “What about the boys?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “They played the final, and won. Even the team they beat was happy. Nobody likes the Hawks. Savoy said that the way the Hawks played was a stain on the integrity of the game. He said that playing just to win destroys the true significance of slinger that reaches back to the earliest of times. And if they’d won using magic, it would have been an insult to the pilgrimage and the tournament.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because this place is about people’s hopes and ideals. It’s sacred. The slinger tournament as it’s played here is about respect, honor, and heroism. When the boys won, the very first thing they did was congratulate the other team on a game well played. Each of them grabbed the hand of one of the guys on the other team. Then they all linked up holding their hands high in victory. It was the best part! The audience cried and cheered at the same time. I wish you’d been there. It was the perfect expression of what slinger’s really supposed to be.”

  Milo thought about that for a minute, wishing he had been there to see it. He wondered if this guy named Smith had been there when the guys won. Probably not. After all, he had been quite willing to slander the tournament. Then Milo asked Analisa something else. “Have any of the Hunt contestants figured out the next clue?”

  “If they have, nobody’s left yet. So I doubt they have. It has to be something that’s unique to the End of the Earth or that arises because of the pilgrimage here. Like the way the Glass Tower initiated the pilgrimage in the first place.”

  “I don’t suppose you know what it is,” he suggested.

  “No. Not yet. If I did, Milo—no offense—I wouldn’t tell you. Each of us has to figure out what makes sense and how that suggests the next clue. That doesn’t mean that the clue is necessarily the same for each of us. Besides, we’re still competitors, and like I told you, I have to win.”

  “I know,” he said in resignation. “You’re right. It’s just that...” He was about to say that he had to get away from here fast, but he changed his mind about how much to tell her. “I don’t have any idea how any of this works.”

  “You promised me not to play stupid, Milo. Remember?”

  He nodded, remembering the promise he had made back at the forest camp.

  Then he and Analisa went to find B, T, and D to congratulate them. When they did, they found lots of other people crowding around the victors. There was no way to reach the three boys through the mob, at least for the time being.

  They found Savoy, though. He was off to the side, sitting on a rock to watch the whole thing from a safe distance. Bori sat with him, with as philosophical an air as Savoy’s.

  “Congratulations, sir,” Milo greeted.

  Savoy ignored the greeting. “So you managed to lift the magical advantage,” he stated, looking at Milo, then at Analisa. “Whichever one of you accomplished that, my thanks. I owe you one.”

  “That’s―” Milo started, but stopped himself. If he took credit, wouldn’t it be giving away part of what Tinburkin had warned him must be kept secret? “Analisa worked very hard.”

  She gave him a curious sidewise glance as she added her comment. “I’m very happy that the boys won.”

  “They’ll want to thank you themselves,” Savoy said. “Might take a while, though, before you get a chance.” He glanced over at the throng of well-wishers around the three young heroes. “Everybody recognizes how they won, fair and square.”

  “Not everyone,” a new voice spoke from behind. “I think that somebody else might have left here in a hurry. He wouldn’t have been so warmly celebrated for his part in this.”

  Milo and Analisa jerked around in surprise. It was Aulaires. Milo blushed as he always did when he saw her, and Analisa glanced around uncomfortably, clearly avoiding eye contact. Aulaires studied her carefully.

  “Hello, Milo,” she said in her silky voice. “Hello, Analisa.”

  They both muttered a return greeting as Aulaires stepped forward to extend a hand to Savoy. “And to you, Savoy. Seems you’ve done it again. Congratulations. Your boys did very well. I expect you’ll be leaving soon?”

  Savoy looked her over with his appraising eye. They clearly weren’t strangers to each other. “Yep. Taking them home. This one has been a long project.”

  “Ahh. I suppose you’ve been working with...?”

  Savoy nodded. “An old colleague. She is these boys’ special protectoress and has been looking after them since their birth. She asked me to fetch them back home to their parents. Their parents will be very happy—and very surprised—to see them.”

  “I expect so. The Aken Clan—or Oak Clan—once ruled the End of the Earth before it was destroyed, didn’t they? I recall the incident when the clan’s heirs—triplets—went missing at their christening.”

  Savoy nodded. “And the Oak Clan has always been deeply associated with the game of slinger. Looks like the tradition continues.”

  “The clan has produced many slinger champions,” Aulaires mused vaguely. “Very interesting. Well, I’m sure you’ll be going soon, and so will I.” Milo noticed a smug smile on her face as she said this. “Good luck to you, and good travels.” She turned back to the two young people standing there. “And to you two, also. I expect we’ll meet again
somewhere along the Hunt’s clue-lined road, no? Take care, Analisa.”

  As Aulaires made her charming exit, Milo watched Analisa instead. Analisa turned a tight face to Milo. “Time for me to go, too. Good-bye, Milo. Good-bye, Bori. It was nice to meet you, Savoy. Give the boys my best wishes.”

  Just like that, she was gone. Milo realized that whatever Aulaires had picked up from Savoy had also worked for Analisa, but it hadn’t given him anything he could understand. He felt the lump of the stone cross in his pocket, and recalled the extraordinary way that Tinburkin had reacted to it. He felt sure that it held more significance than whatever Aulaires and Analisa had picked up from that little conversation about slinger and the Oak clan. But what?

  He thought about the inscription on its face. Would that be the clue he needed? How could he read it? Could someone who knew old languages read it for him? Tinburkin had warned him not to show the stone cross to anyone, but maybe he could take a rubbing of the marks and show it to some expert.

  “Savoy?” he asked the old trainer. “You get around a lot and know a lot of people. Like Aulaires.” Savoy just grunted, watching the crowd around the three boys. “Do you know anybody who might be good at translating old inscriptions?”

  Savoy looked at him with his appraising eye. “You Hunt contestants. Always with your secrets. I owe you one. I have a friend, a librarian at the university in Inverdissen. If anybody can read an old text, it’s Samuel. Inverdissen’s a long walk from here, and a different direction from the one I’m taking those boys, or I’d take you myself. But you find Samuel and tell him I sent you. He owes me, so tell him to pay me back by helping you.” He pointed to the distant blue line of mountains opposite the coast where they were sitting. “Take the road that goes to those mountains. When you get to the top, take the middle road from there. Inverdissen is on the middle of three peninsulas. If you take that path, you can’t get lost.”