Milo and the Dragon Cross

by Robert Jesten Upton

  Except for Bori, who sat waiting with paws tucked in and tail wrapped around, eyes closed for a nap. Milo thought he looked like a cat Buddha, sealed into deep meditation.

  His eyes opened and then he came all the way into awareness. “Get ready,” he said. “Time to go. Kayn is coming.”

  On cue, Kayn stepped into view from behind a stalagmite, and stopped, recognizing the three young people.

  “You found it?” he asked. “The Well of Revelation?”

  “Yeah,” Milo answered, noting the shift in terms from the Well of Reflection, which he had used before. “It was right here.”

  Count Yeroen was right behind Kayn. “You were supposed to tell the rest of us if you found it!” he chided.

  “Well...yeah. It’s pretty big. Besides, you’re here now.”

  “Did you...learn its secrets?” Yeroen asked, too eager for what it might reveal than he was dismissive of ‘this pup.’

  “I got a few things,” Milo answered. “I suspect it has a few secrets left if you want to try it out. It’s all yours.”

  He turned to his companions. “Are you ready? Let’s go.”

  Trying to act very normal and uninterested—bored even—he moved away, leading Bori and the two women. His heart was racing, pounding inside his chest so hard that it sounded to him like a drum. He expected Kayn to do something the next instant. Bori, too, was half-swelled, his ears flat against his head and eyes slitted.

  “I don’t think he can do anything,” Stigma whispered when they were a safer distance away from the two men. “His magic is useless down here. He has to wait until we’re outside again.”

  “What?” Analisa asked. “What’s going on? The tension back there was as thick as butter.”

  “Remember back at the End of the Earth? The wizard you were trying to identify at the slinger tournament?” Milo answered. “Well, that’s him.”

  “What? You mean Smith? He’s been so...helpful,” Analisa said, then blanched.

  “Yes, well, it was because he wanted to use you—and all the other Hunt contestants—to find Milo,” Stigma said filling her in quickly, if not particularly gently.

  “I’ve got something he wants,” Milo told Analisa. “And by the way, this is where things get really dicey. I just want to get this all over with. And now I know what I have to do.”

  “The Well?” Stigma asked.

  Milo nodded. “Did you see it, too?” He asked her.

  “I saw something, but I don’t think it was the same thing you saw. And something about my invisibility. I have you to thank. You have my unreserved gratitude.”

  That surprised Milo. “What do you mean?”

  “For breaking the enchantment placed on me by a certain malicious wizard.” She jerked her head to indicate who was behind them. Milo knew she meant Kayn.

  Milo winced. “Stigma, it might not be permanent. It could just be the conditions of the cave that brought your visibility back.”

  “No, Milo. The Well showed me. You broke Kayn’s spell when you gave me your jacket, saturated as it is with mistletoe power. And good will. It’s the antidote.” She paused and turned her head in an inquisitive slant. “Funny how that worked out. He took my own talent and turned it against me, but eventually it let me watch him without his knowing I was there. I followed him into the Valley of the Stone Knights and saw how he had tricked us all into going into a place of terrible danger. That’s when I understood what he had done. The spell he laid on me saved me from the fate of the others who had been turned to stone.”

  “What?” Analisa said. “How...you mean, Smith planned to get us turned to stone?”

  “Yes. So he could get Milo and take what it is Milo’s carrying while Milo was helpless—forever, like the others who are his collateral victims.”

  “How did you escape?” Milo asked Analisa.

  “Escape?” Analisa said, obviously very uncomfortable.

  “Keep moving,” Bori ordered. “If Kayn finds the way out ahead of us, he’ll turn us all into cinders the minute we step out of here. You do know the way out, don’t you?” he finished with a question to Milo.

  “I...yes, I think I do. If we keep going in the same direction from where we came in, it should take us to the apples. That’s in the garden, at the end of the labyrinth, so I bet there’s a way out from there.”

  “The what?” Analisa said. “The apples?”

  “Yeah. It’s from an old story that seems to be the basis of this whole thing,” Milo answered.

  “How do we know which direction to go? I’m totally turned around,” Stigma put in.

  Milo took the cross out of his pocket and held it out where they could see it. He studied it carefully, just barely able to see the yellow glow of the points in the white light of the cavern. He turned this way and that until he believed he had the alignment of the points.

  “There. See that?” he asked, holding it out to show. “It works like a compass. The one that’s glowing the brightest is in the front, the way we’re facing. We’ll go that way.”

  As they went, they collected the others: Aulaires, Sarakka, and Lute. Each one of them had found the lake at a different point. All were subdued, affected by what they had seen in the waters of the lake, and searching for the way out of the cavern.

  When they located the end of the gallery, the light faded. They linked hands as they passed into the dark tunnel, with Bori in the lead. As they left the last of the light, a broken call came from behind, fragmented by echoes.

  “Someone? Is anyone there? Please! Someone?”

  “It’s Yeroen!” Aulaires said. “Wait!”

  “We’re here,” Milo called back. “Come this way.”

  20

  Milo Finds a Way

  It didn’t take very long to get to the last point on the Dragon Cross compass. Milo felt his heart leap when a shaft of light appeared up ahead, and he could see the difference in the dark between the tunnel and his own hand. Despite the anxiety that Kayn might somehow have gotten to the exit first, and was just waiting for Milo to emerge, he couldn’t wait to be out into light again.

  “I’ll go first.” Bori whispered to Milo. The statement wasn’t an offer. It was a decision.

  As the group waited, hoping for Bori to return with the report that it was safe, Count Yeroen moved to Milo’s side. “I owe you an apology,” he began. His voice was subdued and shaken. “I didn’t realize...I didn’t know what Smith is. And I...I have a great deal to atone for.”

  His voice broke. Milo didn’t know what he had seen when he looked into the lake, but it must have been a doozy.

  “I had no idea...” he tried to continue. “I just thought you were...”

  “It’s okay,” Milo told him. “I really didn’t fit into the Magical Scavenger Hunt.”

  “Oh, no!” the Count countered. “On the contrary! You’re the only true contestant! What you’ve done, what you must succeed in doing, is the most notable feat to have ever been performed by a Hunt contestant in its entire history. I understand that, and the part I’ve played up until now. My duty is to help you complete the task.”

  “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d never have been in the Hunt in the first place,” Milo reminded him. What Yeroen was saying, astonished him. The Count’s change of heart made him burn with curiosity to know what had caused it. What had Yeroen seen?

  Bori returned, interrupting the exchange, drawing Milo aside to whisper to him. “The opening’s going to be a tight fit for you humans. You’ll have to go one at a time, on your bellies, crawling through a small space under the collapsed opening. I hope no one gets stuck, because I can’t help you if you do. The weather’s miserable and the passage is muddy.” He looked soaked, his fur spiked from the wet and smeared with mud.

  After Milo explained to the others, Lute volunteered. “I’ll go first. I’m thin and wiry, and can help any of you if you get wedged in the crawl space.” He handed his instrument to Sarakka. “After I go through, push this ahead of you unt
il I can reach it, would you please?”

  Milo suddenly remembered his rucksack. He hadn’t had it since...He recalled he had left it on the stump at Culebrant’s cottage. Lute had wriggled out of sight into the hole, cutting off the light that filtered through. They could hear his grunts and rustlings as he push/pulled his way through the passage, and then the light came back.

  “It’s not too bad, he called through. “A little tight—and very wet right at the end.”

  “Let me go next,” Yeroen offered. “If Smith is out there, I’ll take him on while the rest of you get through. Here,” he said to Sarakka. “I’ll pass Lute his instrument as I make my way through.”

  The light disappeared as Yeroen filled the hole. There was more rustling, grunting, and groaning as he strained to force his somewhat larger size through the hole.

  “Do you trust him?” Analisa asked Milo as they waited, again in total darkness.

  “Yes. I think so,” Milo answered. “Something happened to him in there.”

  “To all of us, I think,” Aulaires said.

  Sudden light marked Yeroen’s completed transit. Aulaires went next, then Sarakka. Bori, Analisa, Stigma, and Milo were left. “Milo,” Analisa said, taking his hand. “We’re with you.”

  “Absolutely,” Stigma said, touching his arm. She glanced shyly at Analisa. “All of us.” She cocked her head to indicate the ones who had already passed out of the tunnel. “We all have a role to play and we’ll do whatever we can to hold Kayn off. When we get through, your job is to get away. Don’t hesitate because of any of us. We know what we’ve got to do, and what you have to do only you can accomplish.”

  “Well, hurry up and do it,” Bori admonished. “I can hear Kayn back there in the tunnel, stumbling along in the dark. He’ll be here soon.”

  Milo went next. His slender body fit through the crawlway easily, and Stigma and Analisa were right behind him. They emerged into what at first seemed a blindingly bright day, but as Milo’s eyes adjusted to full light, he saw that the sky was heavily overcast, the clouds no more than a few feet above the top of the barrow, pouring rain.

  Bori shot out right behind Analisa and the perfectly visible Stigma. “Come on!” Yeroen shouted. “We’ll cave in the opening and leave Smith trapped inside. Without his magic, he can’t blast out the passage! He’ll be trapped.”

  “No,” Milo said in horror of leaving someone—even Kayn—buried alive.

  “Milo’s right,” Sarakka said. “The sorcerers of old had themselves purposely buried that way. It made them much, much more powerful, transcending the boundaries of death. But it turned them into banshees.”

  “Then we run for it,” Stigma said. “Each of us in a different direction to confuse Kayn when he comes out. We’ll regroup in the forest so we can shield Milo.”

  “Go! Go! Go!” Bori spat. “He’s in the crawlway!”

  Like a flock of startled birds, everybody took off in a different direction. Milo, his heart pounding, looked back just as Kayn emerged from the hole. Bori stood on the spot, back arched, ears flat, tail bristled and as rigid as a spike, hissing straight into Kayn’s face. A slash of his paw laid four bloody stripes across Kayn’s cheek.

  “Bori!” Milo cried. “No!” Milo turned back in anguish, terrified for the cat’s safety. “Run! Run! Run!”

  Instead of running, Bori held his ground. Kayn jerked away with one hand to his wounded face and the other flashing out, open-palmed, to emit a ball of blue flame. It hit Bori and sent him rolling, fur smoking in the downpour. He was back on his feet even before his roll stopped, squaring off to face the sorcerer again.

  As Kayn scrambled the rest of the way out of the hole and took up a stance for his next attack, Bori burst in a transformation. In one decisive move, he became huge, as huge and as formidable as a full-sized lion—nay, bigger. Something Milo had seen before—a live version of the bronze lions that guarded the steps of the courthouse at Kingdom of Odalese. Roaring, he leapt onto Kayn and they went down in a slashing, shredding ball of fury.

  Another transformation happened as fast as Milo could blink. Kayn became a screaming dragon, spouting flame.

  “Run!” Bori shouted. “Run! I’ll hold him as long as I can. Get away!”

  The others were well away now, leaving Milo as the obvious and identifiable target. As he stumbled in hesitation, the Kayn dragon reared and shot a ball of fire out to take him. Reflexively, Milo threw up his arm to shield himself...

  ...and his shield—the one he had built months ago—turned the ball away, leaving him singed but uninjured.

  Bori launched himself against the dragon again, digging in all his claws and locking his jaws into the dragon’s scaly flesh. They both went rolling down the slope, locked in a fierce battle, emitting growls, roars, and shrieks. Torn fur, smoke, and spurts of flame roiled the air.

  Milo ran. Ran blindly, his face wet. He ran without direction until he found himself beneath trees, and someone grabbed his arm to bring him back to control. Stigma pulled him to face her.

  “Bori...” he sobbed, unable to say more.

  “I saw,” she said.

  “He was...he was the best...”

  “Yes.”

  There wasn’t really anything more to say. The others came up to regroup, singly or in re-joined pairs. Shock had them all by the throat.

  “We’ve got to move,” Yeroen said, his voice brittle. “Smith...”

  “His name is Kayn,” Milo said, his voice suddenly calm and cold. “Kayn Smith. He’s done terrible, terrible things. He’ll do worse if he gets his hands on this...” and he held up the Dragon Cross.

  They all looked uncomfortable and confused by the sight of what was by now known to each of them. “We’re here to help,” Lute stated. “Each in our own ways according to our talents. None of us are a match for Kayn, but we can slow him down so you can escape, at least for now. Stigma? Analisa? Can you go with Milo to help him off Inys Raun?”

  “And me,” Yeroen said. “At least as far as the Gate. I can hold Kayn long enough for these three to get through.”

  Aulaires stepped to Analisa’s side. “Be careful, child,” she said, giving Analisa a kiss on the cheek. Tears leaked down Analisa’s face as she joined Milo and Stigma to find their way to the door they had used from Rykirk.

  The four of them moved away, leaving the others behind. “I need to visit one place before I leave here,” Milo told them. He led them easily through the forest, familiar with its ways from the time spent with Culebrant. A fierce storm raged in the sky behind them. They all knew, without saying anything, that it was no ordinary storm. It was a wizards’ battle.

  Milo took them to the place where Culebrant’s cottage stood. Or had once stood. Now there was nothing there but some scattered stones beneath the weeds, and in the place where Culebrant’s hearth had been towered a huge and gnarled oak, centuries old. He stood speechless. First Bori, now this. He was beyond shock or even despair.

  “Where are we?” Analisa began to ask. “What...?” Stigma stopped her.

  “Meow? Meow?” came a call of a cat from somewhere out in the weeds.

  “...Bori?” Milo called, his voice shaky with hope.

  A grey cat came bounding into the clearing beneath the oak, obviously relieved to see Milo.

  But it wasn’t Bori.

  “Raster?” Milo said, surprised.

  “Yes! You came back!”

  “Raster? You can talk?”

  “Sure. Culebrant told me to wait here for you. He said you’d come. He said you’d be back for this, and for me.”

  Raster took Milo to the location where he and Culebrant had so often sat. The stump was gone, rotted away long, long ago. His rucksack sat in the place where it had been—the place where Milo had forgotten it.

  “How...” Milo began, and Raster interrupted.

  “When I got back from my hunt this morning, there was nothing left except what you see now. Everybody was gone. But then Dad...he was all burnt and bloody.
Culebrant was carrying him. They told me to wait for you here. Dad said that I was to go with you. He said that you would take me to the place where I’m to be a Guardian, like he was. He looked...awful, but Culebrant said he’ll be all right.”

  Milo scooped Raster up, hugging the young, squirming cat and choking his sobs into his fur. It was a long time before he could set Raster down again, wiping at his eyes and taking up his rucksack.

  “How...when did you learn how to talk?” Milo asked.

  “Oh, I’ve always known how to talk. Only, my Dad did the talking, so I didn’t need to. But I guess I do now...” He seemed much less sure of himself than his usual, brash self.

  “It’s okay,” Milo said, scooping him up again. “We’ll do it together. Here, take your dad’s old place in my rucksack. We need to be going.” The sounds of the storm had moved from the west into the northeast.

  “We should go quickly,” Yeroen said. “The three of you—four, with the cat—should get through the gate and back to...wherever this leads. It’s the quickest way to leave Inys Raun, and the quicker, the better. It sounds like the battle’s headed this way, so I expect Kayn knows where you’ll try to go, and is trying to cut you off.”

  Milo took one last look at the place where the cottage had been. “Thank you, Culebrant. Farewell, Boriboreau, wherever you are.”

  He had a hard time at first, following the others as they made their way through the woods, headed east, his eyes blurring with tears, but when they cleared, he took up the lead. They moved quickly over the terrain Milo knew.

  They came to the ridge where he and Bori had arrived—was it really just night before last, by current reckoning? Time had gotten completely muddled for him. How long had they been inside the barrow? Had it been just hours? Or maybe months? Not to mention the year Milo had spent with Culebrant.

  “They’re moving this way!” Analisa said anxiously as they climbed the ridge. Lightning flashed, making the low clouds glow red, orange, yellow, green, and blue. The rain had slackened from the downpour it had been on the Barrow. It was now a steady drizzle, but rumbling sounds like thunder, punctuated by howling and sharp cracks rolled toward them like a violent storm.