James Potter and the Hall of the Elders' Crossing

by G. Norman Lippert

  “I want to come,” Noah said, standing up. “Corsica cursed Sabrina. I want to return the favor on her behalf.”

  James shook his head. “You three have a different job tonight, and it may well involve a curse or two. If Ralph, Zane, and I fail, Jackson or somebody will probably show up here looking for the Merlin robe. You three need to guard it. If anyone comes looking for it, you have to stop them, no matter what. I hate to ask you to do that, but��� will you?”

  Petra nodded and looked at Noah and Ted. “Not a problem. But as much as we’d all like a chance to plug one of those guys, do try not to fail, won’t you?”

  James nodded, and then turned and ran up the stairs to the boys’ sleeping quarters. The room was empty and dark but for one candle near the door to the tiny bathroom. Nobby, who hadn’t gotten the principle of the Owlery and continued to show up at James’ window, was sleeping in his cage.

  “Nobby,” James whispered urgently, “got a message for you to deliver to Dad. I know it’s late, but it’s really important.” The great bird raised his head from beneath his wing and clicked his beak sleepily. James opened the cage door, letting Nobby hop out onto the ledge of the table. When the note was tied to Nobby’s outstretched leg, James opened the window.

  “And this time, when you come back, go to the Owlery. Nice as it is to have you around, you’re going to get me in even more trouble. All right?”

  The owl peered at James with his enormous, inscrutable eyes, then hopped onto the window ledge. With a gust of flapping wings, Nobby launched out into the darkness.

  James was about to plunge back down the stairs again when his eye was caught by the dark bulk of his trunk. Was it slightly out of its normal position? He felt a sudden, icy dread. Maybe Jackson had already been for the robe. Perhaps he’d checked his briefcase before heading out to the Grotto Keep, just to be sure, and discovered the trickery. Surely the Gremlins below would have seen Jackson coming and going, but then again, maybe not. As James had realized earlier, Jackson was smart. Maybe he’d disguised himself or maybe he’d asked Madame Delacroix to use her Remote Physio-Apparition skills to simply appear in the boys’ sleeping quarters to collect the robe directly. Then again, Ted had mentioned that Zane and Ralph had been there, sorting things out after the Quidditch disaster. James had to know. He hunkered down next to his trunk and produced his wand. The case unlocked at his command, and he riffled through the contents until he found the case buried at the bottom. It was still there, but it was slightly open. James gasped in fear, then felt inside. His fingers found the smooth folds of cloth. He could even smell that haunting smell of leaves and earth and living, breathing winds. He heaved a gigantic sigh of relief.

  With the trunk open, James wondered if there was anything he might need for his adventure at the island. He glanced around at the unruly pile of clothes and supplies on the end of his bed. After a moment’s consideration, he grabbed the Marauder’s Map and the Invisibility Cloak. He clapped the trunk shut, used his wand to lock it, and then, having left his backpack on the table in the hospital wing, he stuffed the map and the cloak into a leather book bag his mum had given him at the beginning of the year. He turned and clumped down the stairs quickly, stopping only to remind Noah, Petra, and Ted about Delacroix’s powers.

  “Don’t worry,” Noah said, jumping up and heading for the stairs. “We’ll take turns keeping an eye on your trunk. One-hour shifts, right Ted?”

  Ted nodded. Satisfied, James ducked through the portrait hole to go meet Ralph and Zane.

  Five minutes later, as he came out of the courtyard and onto the grounds, James’ eyes were too dazzled from the interior lights to be able to see clearly in the darkness. He felt his way down the slope toward the lake until he heard Zane whistling, apparently trying to sound like a bird. The sound came from his left, and as James turned toward it, he was finally able to make out the bulk of the giantess standing at the edge of the woods. Zane and Ralph were huddled nearby.

  “That was pretty good, wasn’t it?” Zane said, grinning. “I saw that in a James Bond movie. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

  “Nice,” James nodded. The cool of the night air settled over him and James felt a wild sense of excitement and fear. This was it. There was no turning back. Even now, his absence from the hospital wing was probably being discovered. There might be trouble tomorrow, but if they failed now, there’d be even worse trouble to come. James glanced up at Prechka. “Will she let us ride on her shoulders? It’s the only way we’ll get there in time.”

  Prechka heard him. In answer, she bent down, making the earth shudder as her knees struck the hillside. “Prechka help,” she said, trying to keep the boom out of her voice. “Prechka carry small ones.” She grinned at James and her head, now at his level, was nearly as tall as he was. Zane, Ralph, and James took turns scrambling up her arm and onto the giantess’ great, sloping shoulders. James needed Ralph and Zane to help him up, as his splinted right arm was almost no use to him. When she stood, it was like riding a freight elevator into the treetops. Without a word, she began to lumber into the forest. The upper branches of the trees swept past, occasionally groaning as Prechka pushed them aside like reeds.

  “How does she know where she’s going?” James asked in a hushed voice.

  Ralph shrugged. “Grawp told her. I don’t know how, but apparently, it’s a giant thing. They just remember where they’ve been and how to get there again. It’s probably how they find each other’s hovels in the mountains. I didn’t understand the language at all, but she seems pretty sure of herself.”

  Riding Prechka was an altogether different experience than riding Grawp. Where the he-giant had been careful and delicate, the giantess swayed and thumped, her footsteps shuddering up her body and shaking the boys. James thought it was rather like riding on a gigantic walking metronome. The forest swam past, eerie from this strange, high perspective, as if it were clawing at the sky. After a while, James tugged on the giantess’ burlap tunic. “Stop here, Prechka. We’re close and I don’t want them to hear us coming, if we can avoid it.”

  Prechka put out a hand, halting herself against a huge, gnarled oak tree. Carefully, she lowered herself and the boys climbed off her shoulders, sliding down her arm to the ground.

  “Wait here, Prechka,” James said into the giantess’ enormous, lumpy face. She nodded slowly, seriously, and then stood again. He could only hope that her understanding of their wishes was better than Grawp’s, who had wandered off in search of food after only a few minutes when he’d brought them out here last year.

  “This way,” Zane said, pointing. James could see the glitter of moonlight on water through the trees. As quietly as possible, the boys threaded through the tree trunks and underbrush. Within a few minutes, they emerged at the perimeter of the lake. The island of the Grotto Keep could be seen further along the edge of the water. It loomed monstrously, grown to gothic, cathedral proportions for its ultimate night. The dragon’s head bridge was clearly visible, open wide, both welcoming and threatening at the same time. James heard Ralph gulp. Silently, they made their way toward it.

  As they reached the opening onto the bridge, the moon slipped from behind a raft of wispy clouds. The island of the Grotto Keep unveiled fully in that silvery glow. There was virtually no hint of the wild, wooded nature of the island now. The dragon’s head bridge was a carefully sculpted horror, yawning open before them. At its throat, the vine encrusted gate was as solid-looking and ornate as wrought iron. James could clearly read the poem inscribed on the doors.

  “It’s closed,” Zane whispered, rather hopefully. “Does that mean anything?”

  James shook his head. “I don’t know. Come on, let’s see if we can get in.”

  Single file, the three boys tiptoed across the bridge. James, in the lead, saw the bridge’s upper jaw open further as they approached the gate. It didn’t creak this time. The motion was silent and oily, almost unnoticeable. The gates, however, remained firmly closed. James made
to reach for his wand, and then stopped, hissing in pain. He’d forgotten about the splint on his fractured right arm.

  “Ralph, you’ll have to do it,” James said, sidling to the right to let Ralph in front of him. “My wand hand’s no use. Besides, you’re the spells genius.”

  “Wh-what am I supposed to do?” Ralph stammered, pulling out his wand.

  “Just use the Unlocking Spell.”

  “Whoa, wait!” Zane said, throwing up a hand. “Last time we tried that, we were almost tree food, remember?”

  “That was then,” James said reasonably. “The island wasn’t ready. Tonight’s the night it exists for, I think. It’ll let us in this time. Besides, this is Ralph. If anybody can do it, he can.”

  Zane grimaced, but couldn’t offer any argument. He took a step backwards, giving Ralph room. Ralph pointed his wand at the gates nervously, his wand hand shaking. He cleared his throat.

  “What is it? I always forget!”

  “Alohomora,” James whispered encouragingly. “Emphasis on the second and fourth syllables. You’ve done it loads of time. Don’t worry.”

  Ralph stiffened, trying to halt the shivering of his arm. He took a deep breath and, in a tremulous voice, spoke the command.

  Immediately the vines twining the gates began to loosen. The letters of the poem dissolved into curls and tendrils, contracting from the wooden shapes of the doors. After a few seconds, the doors swung silently open.

  Ralph glanced back at James and Zane, his eyes wide and worried. “Well, it worked, I guess.”

  “I’d say so, Ralph,” Zane said, moving forward. The three of them stepped carefully into the darkness beyond the gates.

  The inside of the Grotto Keep was circular and mostly empty, surrounded by trees that had grown into the shapes of pillars, supporting a thick, domed ceiling of branches and spring leaves. The floor of the grotto was terraced with stone, forming steps that descended toward the middle. There, in the very center, a round bowl of earth was lit in a beam of bright moonlight that pierced a hole in the center of the domed canopy. The Merlin throne stood in that beam of moonlight, and in front of it, silhouetted against the moonlight, her back to them, was Madame Delacroix.

  James felt weak with fear. He froze in place, and only distantly felt Ralph’s hand groping at him, tugging him backwards into the shadow of one of the tree trunk pillars. He stumbled a little, and then dropped down behind the bulk of the tree, next to Ralph and Zane. Carefully, slowly, James peered around the treepillar, his eyes wide and his heart thundering.

  Delacroix hadn’t moved. Her back was still to them, and she was still staring motionlessly at the throne. The Merlin throne was tall, straight-backed and narrow. It was made of polished wood, but was somehow more delicate than James had expected. The mass of it was formed of carvings of vines and leaves, curling and tangled. The only solid parts were the seat and the center of the backrest. The throne looked as if it had been grown rather than carved, much like the Grotto Keep itself. No one else was visible. Apparently, Delacroix had arrived early. James was wondering how long she’d been standing there, motionless, watching the throne, when there was the sound of someone else’s footsteps behind them, on the dragon’s head bridge. James held his breath, and sensed Ralph and Zane hunkering down as low as they could next to him, hiding among the low underbrush lining the Keep.

  A man’s voice spoke a low command in some strange language James didn’t recognize. It sounded both beautiful and frightening. There was the sound of the gate’s vines unfurling again, and then footsteps clacked hollowly on the stone steps of the terraced floor. Professor Jackson moved into view, walking resolutely down into the center of the Grotto Keep behind Madame Delacroix.

  “Professor Jackson,” Madame Delacroix said, her heavily accented voice ringing in the stone bowl of the grotto, “you never fail to meet my expectations.” She still hadn’t turned around.

  “Nor you mine, Madame. You are early.”

  “I was savoring de moment, Theodore. It’s been a long time coming. I’d be tempted to say ‘too long’, if I was a believer in chance. I am not, of course. This is how it was meant to be. I have done what I was meant to do. Even you have performed the role you were preordained to perform.”

  “Do you really believe so, Madame?” Jackson asked, stopping several feet behind Delacroix. James noticed that Jackson had his hickory wand in his hand. “I wonder. I, as you know, am neither a believer in chance nor destiny. I am a believer in choices.”

  “It matters not what you believe, Theodore, as long as your choices lead to the right ends.”

  “I have the robe,” Jackson said flatly, abandoning the pretense of polite conversation. “I have always had it. You will not get it from me. I am here to see to that. I am here to stop you, Madame, despite your best efforts to keep me away.”

  James almost gasped. He covered his mouth with his hand, stifling it. Jackson was here to stop her! But how? James felt a cold dread dawning on him. Next to him, Ralph whispered almost silently, “Did he say���”

  “Shh!” Zane hissed urgently. “Listen!”

  Delacroix was making a strange, rhythmic sound. Her shoulders shook slightly with it, and James realized she was laughing. “My dear, dear Theodore, I have never attempted to thwart you. Why, if I had not allowed a token resistance to your presence on dis trip, you’d have never chosen to come at all. Your stubbornness and suspicious nature are my best tools. And I needed you, Professor. I needed what you had, what you believed so ardently dat you were protecting.”

  Jackson stiffened. “Do you believe I was foolish enough to bring the robe with me tonight? Then you are more arrogant than I thought. No, the robe is safe. It is secured with the best hexes and counter-Accio charms ever created. I know that, for they were created by me. You shall not find it, of that I am certain.”

  But Delacroix was laughing harder. She still hadn’t turned around. The beam of light illuminating the chair seemed to be growing brighter, and James realized it was the accumulated light of the planets. They were moving into place. The time of the Hall of Elders’ Crossing was nearly upon them.

  “Oh, Professor, your confidence cheers me. With enemies such as yourself, my success is all the more delicious. Do you think I haven’t known all along dat you guarded the robe of Merlinus in your case at all times? Do you think I was not preparing for de robe to be delivered to me from the moment I first arrived here? I haven’t had to lift so much as a finger, and yet de robe comes to me of its own accord dis very night.”

  James had a horrible thought. He remembered that day in Defense Against the Dark Arts, when Jackson had followed Professor Franklyn into the classroom, speaking in low tones. Madame Delacroix had come to the door to tell Jackson his class was waiting. James had glanced down at that moment, and the case had mysteriously come open. Was it possible that Madame Delacroix had caused that to happen, just so that James would see inside? Had she tried to use him somehow? He remembered Zane and Ralph saying that the capture of the robe had been easy. Somehow too easy. He shuddered.

  “James,” Ralph whispered urgently, “you didn’t bring the robe with you tonight, did you?”

  “Of course not!” James replied. “I’m not crazy!”

  Zane leaned in to keep his voice as quiet as possible. “Then what’s in the book bag?”

  James felt terror and anger mingling inside him. “The Marauder’s Map and the Invisibility Cloak!”

  Ralph reached up and clutched James’ shoulder, turning him so that they were face to face. Ralph’s expression was horrible. “James, you don’t have the Invisibility Cloak!” he rasped, his voice cracking. “I do! You left it with me in the Slytherin holding pen, remember? I used it to escape! It’s in my trunk, back in the Slytherin boys’ quarters!”

  James simply stared at Ralph, petrified. Below them, in the center of the Grotto Keep, Madame Delacroix continued to cackle.

  “Mr. James Potter,” she called through her laughter, “please feel f
ree to join us. Bring your friends if you so desire.”

  James felt rooted to the spot. He wouldn’t go down there, of course. He would run. He knew now that he had the robe of Merlinus in his book bag, that he had been tricked into bringing it along, tricked into thinking it was the Invisibility Cloak. Now was the moment to flee. And yet he didn’t. Ralph pushed him, urging him to go, but Zane, on James’ other side, slowly stood up and pulled out his wand.

  “The voodoo queen thinks she’s pretty smart,” he said out loud, stepping around the pillar and pointing his wand at her. “You’re as ugly as you are evil. Stupefy!”

  James gasped as the bolt of red light shot from Zane’s wand. The curse struck Madame Delacroix directly in the back and James watched for her to collapse unconscious. She didn’t move, however, and James was dismayed to see that the bolt of red light had passed straight through her. It struck the ground near the throne and vanished harmlessly. Delacroix was still laughing as she turned to face Zane.

  “Ugly, am I?” Her laughter dried up as her gaze met Zane’s. She was no longer blind or old. It was, in fact, her wraith, the projected version of herself. “Evil? Perhaps, but only as a hobby.” The wraith of Madame Delacroix raised a hand and Zane was lifted from his feet roughly. His wand flew from his hand and he thumped against the treepillar, his shoes three feet from the ground. He seemed to be stuck there, as if on a hook. “If I was truly evil, I would kill you now, wouldn’t I?” She grinned at him, and then pivoted, pointing her arm at the place where James hid. “Mr. Potter, please, it is silly of you to fight me. You are, after all, almost my apprentice in dis endeavor. Bring Mr. Deedle with you. Let’s all enjoy the spectacle, shall we?”

  Jackson had turned when Zane came forward, watching with a noticeable lack of surprise, his wand still out, but pointed at the floor. Now he looked on as James and Ralph stood jerkily, as if against their will, and began to march down the steps toward the center of the grotto. His eyes met James’, his bushy dark brows low and furious. “Stop, Potter,” he said quietly, raising his wand halfway, pointing it at the floor in front of James and Ralph. Their feet stopped moving, as if they’d suddenly landed in glue.