Milo and the Dragon Cross

by Robert Jesten Upton

  The need didn’t arise. Tinburkin passed out of sight into the valley and Kayn moved quickly over the pass and was gone. Milo relaxed and remembered that he had seen Tinburkin at Rykirk at a time that would have been after he visited the valley. Back in the present, Milo asked Culebrant the question about warning the Ranger from his place inside Dreaming.

  “It’s good you didn’t try,” Culebrant reminded him. “You would have been unable to do it and Kayn would have detected you. Unless this ranger is as skilled as Kayn in sensing activity from the Otherworld, he would not have noticed anything and Kayn would have blasted him anyway. No, your purpose is as the observer, learning what to expect from your quarry. You’ve chosen a strategic action that you are now committed to follow. If this man, whom I suspect you know well, had fallen victim to Kayn it would not be your fault—as I expect you would be tempted to believe. Remember, each of us has his own destiny. We each must choose how to explore that destiny and what strategy to use in following it, but another person’s destiny remains his own. It’s not our responsibility nor do we have the ability to interfere. Sometimes our various strategies overlap, and when that happens we may aid each other, but as strategists we can’t afford to waste energy. Remorse drains us when we think we should, or could, take an action to affect another’s situation.”

  This seemed cold to Milo, and also shocking, coming from the otherwise gentle Culebrant. It revealed a hitherto unexpressed ruthlessness.

  Summer was beginning to fade when Milo had a final—and definitive—episode trailing Kayn. Milo found him standing on the ridge that overlooked the forest he recognized as the same one that sheltered Culebrant’s cottage. Behind the forest rose the shape of the Great Barrow. Kayn stood on the same ridge where Milo had tumbled in flight when he had arrived from Rykirk. Count Yeroen stood with him.

  “This is where it all started,” Yeroen was telling the man he knew as Smith. “You were right, my friend. The Great Barrow is the key to the final clue.”

  “No,” Smith insisted. “Not the final clue. You have to learn what it is the Barrow holds if you are to learn that. You must enter it. What about the others?”

  “Aulaires came with me. She knew that this island—Inys Raun—was known as Elx in the legendary past. With that connection, the importance of the Great Barrow to the Hunt became clear to me. As to the others, Lute made it here as did Sarakka and—to our amazement—that silly young witch Analisa. She must have tagged along on my coattails, as she’s done all along. That won’t serve her very well when it’s her turn to face the Hunt judges when they assess our exploits.”

  “Was that boy with Analisa?” Smith wheedled.

  “I haven’t seen him or any of the others. I expect they failed in their encounters with the Stone Knights. Winnowing out the weak and the inept. When I left the End of the Earth, it was a regular exodus. They were all watching me, of course, knowing that I’m the most skilled of the Hunt contestants. They all chased me blindly in fear of being left behind. The ones who got here must have been clever enough to deal with the Stone Knights, but it’s not been an easy trail to follow, even with the evidence wrung from those archaic stone heads. And of course, with the Barrow’s special relationship to Samhain, the timing of our arrival guarantees that we would all arrive here at the same time. As to that stupid young whelp you asked about: if he’s not standing in the Valley of the Stone Knights as a monument to foolishness, I expect he’s off blundering around in Akenwald with his oaken-headed slinger friends.”

  “I think not, my Lord,” Smith replied, rubbing his hands together in his most obsequious manner. “He has more...luck...than you give him credit for. I would guess that he possesses certain...resources. He is clever at concealing them. He is...unique.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” Yeroen said, and snapped his fingers. “That’s how much credit I give him. He’s no more than an opportunist, and not a very skilled one at that. No, after the contest with the Stone Knights, I believe the field of the Hunt contestants was thoroughly weeded and the true capacities of the candidates revealed. We’re now down to the final test.”

  He turned to Smith and looked directly at him for the first time during this conversation. “By the way, you never told me what your interest in all this is, yet you arrive at the same places along the way.”

  “Oh, I have my own purposes. It’s quite coincidental that your pursuit of the clues of the Magical Scavenger Hunt and mine converge. A true stroke of luck I find very convenient to the success of my purpose, for it has provided me the advantage of meeting someone of your stature as a lore master and mage. I’ve certainly profited from your knowledge and leadership, and I hope that I’ve been able to return the favor in some small way as well.”

  “Oh, indeed,” the Count assured him, patting him on the shoulder. “Indeed.”

  Milo saw how Kayn Smith recoiled from Yeroen’s touch, although Yeroen, already starting off down the hill, didn’t notice or see the arrogant curl of his lip. Milo broke off the connection.

  19

  Reflections and Revelations

  Of all his questions, one still stood way out in first place: “I don’t have any choice but to deal with Kayn, do I?” he asked Culebrant.

  “No, you don’t. He’s followed you all the way here. He’ll follow you wherever you go, plotting and setting his traps until he has what he wants from you.”

  “And that is...?” Milo asked, knowing the answer but asking anyway.

  “You must know that yourself, for without knowing what it is, he holds the advantage. You barely escaped a trap when you came here, and now you know what he’ll do.”

  “But surely he’s moved on by now. I mean, it was almost a year ago that I came, and he came, and I escaped, and we haven’t seen him since.”

  Culebrant studied Milo carefully, considering telling him something that he should have already figured out for himself. “What?” Milo asked, dreading the answer.

  “I provided you with refuge. Kayn was about to slay you and take what he came to get. I intruded in order to make it a fair fight. You weren’t able to meet him then, but now you have the tools you’ll need to deal with him, if you use them wisely. It’s time.”

  “Time?” Milo’s voice cracked. Terror swept through him. “I thought that time doesn’t count in Dreaming.”

  “And in Dreaming you can’t meet Kayn and act. It’s time to take action.”

  “You mean, he’s still around?”

  “You’ve spent a year—a sun cycle—with me in order to learn how to deal with Kayn and carry out your purpose. You came here with a purpose, remember? But you weren’t ready when you came. I have my purpose for having helped you escape. Our strategies converged. Did you think I saved you because I’m just a silly, kind-hearted old man?”

  Culebrant was scaring him now.

  “Milo, my young friend, I’m quite fond of you—that I won’t deny—and I want—I need—you to succeed. But you must do that for yourself. I’ve given you the tools. Tonight you must return to your task. This is Samhain, the night when the doors between the world of the Rule and the Otherworld are at their thinnest. You must step back into your own cycle and finish your mission.”

  What Culebrant was telling him was beginning to sink in. “I’ve been in the Otherworld for a whole year, haven’t I?”

  “Not precisely. I took you out of your own cycle and into mine. When you leave my cycle, you’ll step back into your own at the time you left it, as if no time had elapsed at all.” He gestured around him, at the woods, the cottage, and the family of nearly grown cats playing in the yard. “All this will belong to a long-forgotten past, as if it never was. Your destiny awaits you in your own cycle, where you still belong to the Rule.”

  Bori had come up during the conversation and sat at Milo’s side. “I’ll go with you,” he told Milo. “I started this with you, and I’ll finish. I think you’ll need me. But when it’s done, and my own destiny willing, I’ll return here, to be with my family.
”

  It was settled. The longest day Milo had ever known dragged out the afternoon. Milo thought a thousand thoughts, all of them pointless. Toward sunset, he took out the cross and looked at it, a thing he had avoided doing for the whole time he had been with Culebrant. He studied the inscription that he still couldn’t read and then he turned it over to look at the back. It had a number of small pits in it which he’d never really paid much attention to, thinking them nothing but chips or imperfections. Now he saw something he’d missed. They were arranged in a repeating pattern, into each of the four arms of the off-kilter cross. Now they made sense. They were the same as the figure he’d painted on his shield. They were the pattern of stars, repeated to the four directions, that he knew as the Dragon. Heronsuge. He felt dizzy-headed, and his thoughts spun.

  Culebrant came up to sit next to him. “You should put your things together—all you brought with you when you came. I think you should wear the old mistletoe smock when you go. The protection from spells that it’s accumulated may come in handy.”

  Milo only half-heard him. “Culebrant? Can I show you something?” He remembered when Culebrant had referred to the cross without naming it, saying that it was visible to someone who could see such things.

  Culebrant looked him in the eye, gently warning him, but of what?

  “Yes, it’s safe to show me. I know about it already. You have questions about it that you’d like answers for. Many of those questions can only have answers that come from you, but go ahead.”

  Milo held out his palm. The cross lay there, a charming artifact that held all its mysteries in perfect stillness.

  “That’s the Dragon’s Cross,” Culebrant said. “It has a remarkable purpose, for it’s the key that opens a road that has not opened for a very long time.”

  “A road? A path...to the Hub of the Rule, right?”

  Culebrant nodded.

  “And I’ve been carrying it around with me all this time...”

  “It’s how I knew to help you. It’s the thing that Kayn wants above all other things. It was taken away long, long ago, and hidden to keep it from such as Kayn. He learned of it and even figured out how to find it, but you intervened. It’s a thing that can’t be possessed, for its purpose is to serve.”

  “To serve? Who does it serve?”

  Culebrant’s face broke into a broad grin and he patted Milo’s shoulder. “That’s something you must still discover—on your own and at the proper place and time. For now, you’ll find it will be the key you’ll need to enter the final leg of your quest. It will be your guide as well as the key to the gate into the Beyond. Keep it safe. Use it to go, and use it again if you decide to return. Others may travel with you as your companions, but it’s you who are the Wanderer.”

  Milo remembered hearing that before. The picture of the card that Dame Renee had shown him flashed into his mind’s eye. “The Wanderer...that was what Candaon was, wasn’t it?”

  “You’ve learned your lessons well. You’re ready, with knowledge at least, to engage Kayn and to meet Heronsuge. Without the knowledge, you would have no hope of success, but unless your heart is strong and your actions true, knowledge won’t be enough. Knowledge is never enough by itself.”

  “It’s going to be dangerous, isn’t it?” Milo asked, feeling how dread made his legs squishy.

  “Of course. Kayn won’t hesitate to do anything he can to take the Cross. Your best plan is to lead him to believe that you have the knowledge—which you do—that he needs in order to possess and use the Cross. Others will be there, too. Keep them near.”

  “You mean the Hunt contestants, don’t you?”

  “Yes. With them around you, Kayn will be more careful of his actions. Secrecy and stealth are a habit with him. Most likely, he’ll use his disguise as Smith around others. Use Smith to hold off Kayn.”

  “I hope you’re right about my knowing what I need to know. I don’t feel like I do.”

  “You’re scared. That means you understand the gravity of the challenge. Be very careful with what you know. Parcel out only enough to suggest you know rather than trying to impress by acting as if you have more knowledge than you do. Kayn understands how to manipulate braggarts. He’s used that skill many, many times. He’s built a career of it by flattering his marks into doing his work for him. You are ready, young Milo.”

  Many things came into Milo’s mind as evening came on. Culebrant made him his favorite stew and encouraged him to eat, but he could hardly swallow. There were too many butterflies swirling inside his stomach to find room for food. He packed his rucksack and put on his old clothes, the ones he’d worn when he came, and then put on his mistletoe-cutting smock, as Culebrant had advised. The cats all sat around, ignoring him in catty sociability, except for Raster, who was off adventuring somewhere. Bori sat steadfastly at his side.

  “Bori,” Milo began, “I think you should stay here, with your family.” He was worried what might happen—how this might turn out. “You’ve helped me this far, and I can’t ask you to do more.”

  “No, I signed on. I’m a cat of my word. And I expect I might still be very useful to you. You never know what skills might be important, and the more you have on your side...”

  Milo stroked his fur, glad for him to stay. Bori purred. Milo decided that just that—a bit of mutual comfort—was help aplenty.

  Culebrant was being just about as sociable as the cats, nearby, but ignoring Milo’s tense waiting. Minutes seemed like hours and hours like days, but at last Culebrant told Milo it was time to go. “I’ll take you as far as the edge of the clearing at the barrow,” he promised.

  Milo felt like his legs had turned to lead as they walked through the dark woods. As movement brought his legs back to life, they began to tremble. The butterflies in his stomach wanted to escape, and he thought he might vomit before they reached the barrow. At the edge of the woods they stopped. Bori rubbed against Milo’s legs and Culebrant patted the cat.

  “Pay attention to your cat,” he advised Milo further. “What you don’t know, he does. You two are a team.”

  Milo couldn’t speak. Tears smeared his eyes and dribbled down his face. He reached out a hand to shake Culebrant’s and the old man gripped it in his strong, work-hardened palm, then pulled Milo into a hug. “Fare well,” he said.

  Milo choked on a sob as Culebrant released him and turned away back into the forest. Bori started away into the grassy clearing, tail high like a battle-banner. Milo followed, half blind, choking, and weak with fear. As he climbed the slope of the barrow, he concentrated on breathing the way Culebrant had taught him in order to collect his thoughts. The tremors that were flowing through his body in surges melted away and by the time he reached the top, the queasiness had drained away.

  There were others already there, dark shapes in the dark night. As he came up on them, he heard a male voice asking, “That little battle must be over. I wonder if it was our contestants fighting?”

  “Is everyone here?” Milo asked, surprised to hear his own voice.

  “Milo?”—that was Analisa.

  “Oh, my god!”—that was an irate Count Yeroen.

  Sarakka was there, and Lute, whose voice Milo had heard. Aulaires was there, all aflutter in a robe of fur and feathers. He felt a soft squeeze to his elbow. “I’m glad to see you escaped Kayn’s trap, Milo.” That was Stigma. One, two, three, four, five, six. The seventh was Smith. Milo felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle. “Are we waiting for someone else?” he asked the group.

  “Of course not!” Yeroen exclaimed. “If they haven’t made it by now, that’s not my concern. We’re waiting for...” Yeroen fumbled.

  “...for the gate to open,” Smith filled in. He sat off to the side, watching Milo with wolf-intense eyes.

  “And what gate is that?” Milo asked.

  “The way into the Barrow,” Analisa said as Yeroen made growling sounds of disgust.

  “Why’s that?” Milo persisted.

  “You don�
�t have a clue, do you, you silly pup!” Yeroen exclaimed. “How’d you get here in the first place?”

  “We need to get into the Barrow,” Analisa answered, “only, none of us knows how to do it. That’s why we’re all up here, waiting.”

  “That, and to keep an eye on each other,” Lute said with a cynical laugh.

  Milo glanced at Bori. The cat gave him a glance, got to his feet and took a good stretch. Then he started down the other side of the mound.

  “Let’s get started,” Milo said, and followed the cat. He resisted the urge to look back to see if the others were moving. Sounds told him after a short delay that they were, each of them, as Lute had pointed out, afraid to be separated from the others whether they believed Milo knew something or not.

  “I’ve spent time hunting voles up here,” Bori told Milo softly. “I know where the gate is, or at least, where it should be. When we get there, the rest is up to you,” he told Milo.

  “He’s a remarkable cat,” Stigma’s voice said from Milo’s side. Milo reasoned that in her invisible state, she knew of Bori’s abilities, which he generally preferred to be careful about showing off.

  “Yes, he is,” Milo whispered to the place were Stigma must be.

  Bori stopped in front of several tumbled, weed-grown stones. One by one the others arrived, Yeroen and Smith last. “Now what?’ Yeroen demanded. “If this was a gate, it’s been ruined and caved in for ages.”

  Each of the others was examining the stones. Lute chopped back some of the weeds, revealing the largest of the stones. Smith hung back on the periphery, watching over the shoulders of the others as if his interest were only intellectual. Milo could feel Smith’s eyes, however, as if his breath were right on Milo’s neck.

  A feeling of assurance came over Milo, and without saying what, he knew that Bori was right. This was the gate, the ancient entrance into this monument. He felt the Dragon Cross in his pocket, the ‘key’ as Culebrant had called it.