by Ben Zackheim
“Is he dead?” Gwen asked.
“No. I made sure of that. Now…” His eyes darted to each of them. “What did you see?”
“I saw zip,” Maille said. “But Lancelot here saw him and took him out like a pro.” She smiled at Simon, who did feel a tad proud of himself.
“A pro would have ‘taken him out’ with no harm done to innocents. Is what she said true, boy?”
“Yeah,” Simon answered. “I saw him crawling on the ceiling like a bug. Then he pulled out a couple of knives.”
“That’s when I saw him, too” Gwen said. “He twirled them like he was having fun. I think he was going to throw them at Chester.”
“And you missed all of this, eh?” Merlin looked down at Chester.
“I was enjoying the party! Like you told me to!”
“But you can see him, yes?”
“Yeah, I saw him when he fell,” Chester mumbled. “He’s decked out in a black robe and some mask.”
“Interesting.” Merlin and Maille looked at each other for a split second. Simon could tell they were doing their creepy wizard-communicating.
“Why can’t you see him?” Simon asked Merlin, fully expecting to get an earful for daring to ask a question out of turn.
“I don’t know,” Merlin answered. The kids were unsure what to say in the silence. Merlin frowned. “What? I don’t pretend to know everything!”
“But who would want to kill Chester?” Gwen asked.
“You mean who would want to kill King Arthur?” Merlin corrected. “I hope that question is rhetorical.”
“Well I don’t know what retricickal is,” Chester barked. “But I do know you’re all assuming I’m the guy he was after. Who’s to say he didn’t want Gwen, or what’s his name?” Chester crossed his arms, as if stubbornness could make the truth go away.
“His name’s Simon. The guy who saved your life,” Maille said smugly.
“If he wears the black robe of Tintagel, then his target was you, my king,” Merlin said confidently.
“What’s Tintagel?” Chester asked.
“The castle that Morgan Le Fay inherited from Arthur after Camelot crumbled,” Maille explained. “It was once the heart of the kingdom, but after Arthur was buried in Avalon, she made it her home. The Tintagel Guard is a sect of assassins, meant to do their work in the dark. Their trademark is a black robe and twin daggers. Their only target is royalty.”
Simon tried to get his head around what she was saying. Maille was talking about Tintagel, the area on his parents’ map with the big, red X. “But that castle has been destroyed for centuries,” he said. “My parents dug around for a whole year there and didn’t find anything.”
“That may be true,” Merlin said. “But just because something isn’t visible doesn’t mean it isn’t there.” Considering current circumstances, Simon couldn’t argue.
“Are you saying Le Fay sent this guy?” Maille asked.
Merlin frowned and leaned on his staff. “Don’t be silly. She’s been dead for years.” He studied the outline of the assassin in the sheet and dove into his deep-thought mode again. His mouth and eyes disappeared in whiskers and brows. After a moment he looked up. “Do you each have your vambraces on your person?”
Gwen and Chester held their right arms up. Simon realized he hadn’t checked on his vambrace since he’d arrived in New Camelot.
“It was you who gave the vambrace to me in the park in New York, wasn’t it?” Simon asked.
Merlin was silent. He frowned at Simon from across the room, disappeared, and reappeared in front of him. He leaned down until they were nose to nose. Simon’s teeth clenched and his heart pounded. He did everything he could to stay calm on the outside.
“If you’re so clever, you can unravel this mystery, then,” Merlin said. “The vambraces were crafted over fifteen hundred years ago by a man named Brendan Dergh. An elf man is a more appropriate term for him. A man who was both ahead of his time and quite removed from time.”
Simon wondered if this elf was related to the Dergh he’d befriended.
Merlin paced, his soft shoes scuffling the stone floor. “To him, time was as strong a force of nature as a gentle breeze. That is to say, not much of a force at all, if you have a blind spot for similes.” He pointed his staff directly at Chester as he wandered past him. “Dergh could walk in and out of time as if it were a leisurely stroll to the butcher.
“He was infatuated with King Arthur, a leader who brokered a strong peace between man and men of myth. He understood the prophecy of Arthur’s return and wanted to ensure it happened.”
Well, that sounded exactly like the Dergh that Simon knew.
The wizard’s next words were measured, as if he had to consider every letter.
“Before he died, he gave me those three vambraces to hand off to the descendants of Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot. In possessing them, you now have a bond among you that cannot be broken. They will allow you to perform magic that I cannot, and combine your destinies in a way that’s stronger than your individual fates. As is true with all magic, I suspect the bond also comes with some… downsides, yet to be determined.
“I thought the magical bond could be broken if even one of you were separated from their vambrace. When Simon, who did not have his vambrace with him at the time, was unable to see a magic inscription on Hector’s sword in the throne room I believed that my theory was correct. But here’s the mystery we face now… if you don’t have your vambrace here, boy, then why can you three see this magic before us, while I cannot?”
Merlin peered down the length of his nose at Simon.
“And no,” Merlin finished. “I did not give you your vambrace, Lancelot. It was stolen from me some time ago. So add another mystery to the mix.”
A high-pitched moan came from under the sheet on the floor. Simon realized that Chester’s attacker was a woman. Merlin made the sheet wrap around her tight as she stood, outlining a thin but strong figure.
“Whom do you work for?” Merlin asked, simply. The question went unanswered for a moment. “Oh goodness.” Merlin slapped his forehead and flicked his wand in the air. “Forgot to free up the vocal cords.” He snapped his fingers.
“I’ll never tell you a thing,” the would-be assassin spat from under the sheet. Every move of her jaw was visible through the tight fabric.
“Perhaps you don’t know who I am, young lady. I can assure you, you will tell me everything.”
“I know of your grandstanding, Merlin. I know you can’t even see through a simple invisibility spell. You’re weak and out of practice, old man, and you’ll soon…”
“Oops. There go the vocal cords,” Merlin said, snapping his fingers again.
And with that, Merlin levitated her right out of the room.
“You lot go tell whoever will listen that I have things under control.” Merlin peeked back out from the doorway. “And Chester…”
“What?”
“This is a nasty assassin we have here. What’s-his-name did indeed save your life.”
Chester frowned and stormed out of the room through another door. Maille smiled, but the grin died when she realized Simon was angry.
“What are you looking like a lemon for? He deserves it!” Maille insisted.
“He didn’t have to rub the guy’s face in it. It’s almost like Merlin doesn’t want us to get along.”
“Thanks for saving him, by the way,” Gwen said. “Chester’s an idiot, but I hold out hope he’ll grow up.”
“Really? And when do you plan on growing up?” Maille barked at Gwen.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gwen shot back.
“It means that you spent your time at school avoiding Simon, but now that he’s Lancelot’s heir you’re all Mrs. Charmy-pants.”
“Oh, please. I knew he was Lancelot’s heir at school.”
“You did?” Maille and Simon asked together.
“Sure. I spent my whole life being trained to fill Guinevere’s shoes.
You don’t think I’d recognize Lancelot’s heir when I saw him?”
But it didn’t add up to Simon or Maille. How could she recognize someone she’d never seen? Gwen saw their confusion.
“I’ve always had a… sense about fate, destiny, that kind of thing. Merlin said he recognized it in me when he met me.”
“Recognized what?” Simon asked.
But it was Maille who answered. “Magic.”
“Oh. Magic,” Simon said, hoping he didn’t sound as stupid to them as he did to himself.
“He’s putting you with the dwarf, isn’t he?” Maille asked Gwen. Gwen nodded.
“The dwarf?” Simon asked, struggling to keep up. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“Gwen is going to be trained as a wizard,” Maille said, amused. “Merlin can’t take a second apprentice, so he’s going to give her to Hut. He’s a wizard dwarf. Very powerful. More powerful than Merlin, by some accounts.”
“Really?” It was Gwen’s turn to be surprised. “He didn’t tell me that.”
“How unusual. Merlin didn’t lay it all on the table? Wow,” Maille teased.
Simon tried to break the lingering silence with something constructive. “I wonder what the three vambraces will let us do. Merlin said we could do magic that even he can’t.”
“He meant it’s elf magic,” Maille said. “That’s mostly weak spells like generating ear wax and eating lots of candy without getting ill.”
“I don’t know about that,” Simon muttered. “Dergh sounds pretty powerful to me. It seems like any magic that can tie our fates together is pretty strong.”
Gwen waved a hand dismissively. “Our fates are already tied together. It’s been prophesied for hundreds of years,” Gwen said sternly. She said it with the authority of someone who knew it to be true because she’d read it in a book. “That’s like this elf Dergh saying he invented gravity.”
“But Simon has a point,” Maille said. “Why would Merlin mention it to us if it didn’t mean something?”
“So Merlin didn’t lay it all on the table for you? How unusual,” Gwen snapped. The two girls glared at each other.
“Let’s go get my vambrace and see what happens.” Simon didn’t know what was going on between Maille and Gwen, but he wanted to keep things civil.
The hallways of the castle were empty. People were spooked by the assassination attempt and responded the only way that made sense. They ran home.
But there was something calming about the silence to Simon. He was as scared as everyone else, but he was going about his business, doing his best to make things okay. He wasn’t going to hide, and his attitude made him feel — what? Different? Older?
When he walked into Wellwoven, Simon went straight for his backpack to dig out the vambrace. But after a minute of rummaging, it was clear that it was gone.
“Has anyone seen a vambrace lying around?” he called out. Desperation made his voice break a little bit.
The boys in Wellwoven shook their head. Simon looked suspiciously at Mumbler, who frowned back.
“If I took it I woulda melted it and put it under yer pillow,” Mumbler said defensively.
Simon saw Russ nod his head as if to say yeah, that’s the kind of thing he’d do. Simon checked under his pillow. Nothing.
Then it hit him.
Red.
Simon had seen him rummaging through his bag that night on the loch. Red had done it shamelessly, and said he was digging for food. Marshmallows or something.
Simon ran out of the room and past the girls, who followed him.
“Simon! Where are you going?” Gwen yelled. But Simon was too distracted by his search. He had to find the door to the dungeon.
“Simon!” Maille’s voice was much bigger than it should have been. He’d seen Merlin use the same trick to greater effect.
“Don’t do that,” he said, not breaking his stride. “It freaks me out.”
“Answer her question,” Gwen said.
“The dungeon. Where’s the entrance?” Simon asked, curtly.
“Answer the question and I might tell you.”
“What’s wrong with you, Simon?” Gwen asked, getting angry.
“Sorry. It’s… I think Red took my vambrace. The night we were on the…”
But Maille interrupted. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“What do you mean? How does it make sense?” Simon demanded.
“He mentioned once that he could get out anytime he wanted because he knew where to find something.”
Gwen rolled her eyes. “Cryptic.”
“He may have meant the vambrace,” Maille concluded.
“And you didn’t feel like telling me this!” Simon’s voice echoed shrilly off the stone walls.
“I thought he was lying! I’m not going to let him get into your head.”
“He’s my friend!”
Gwen covered her ears. “Can we stop yelling, please? I’m getting a headache.”
“When he’s not under someone else’s control, he’s your friend. But he did take your vambrace. And you need it. We all need you to have it, if Merlin is right.”
“Show me where the entrance is,” Simon insisted.
“You’re standing next to it,” Maille said, pointing at it with her thumb.
“You have a chainsaw on you?” he asked, rubbing his hands over the stone wall.
“A chainsaw?” Gwen asked.
“You don’t need a chainsaw,” Maille said. “Door, please!” Rocks clattered against each other and pulled back to make a large hole in the wall. Simon’s wide eyes gave away his awe. “The castle hates Merlin,” Maille explained. “It likes to shake the stairs when he uses them, hide doors from him, stuff like that. But the castle likes me.” She winked and gestured for Simon and Gwen to enter the newly formed doorway. It led to a set of familiar stone stairs. Simon entered the darkness of the dungeons first.
The sound of footsteps was all they heard as they passed by dozens of dim torches on the stairwell. Maille thought she was being funny by casting a halo over Gwen’s head that lit the way. But no one else was impressed. Even Gwen kept walking without a fuss.
“Fine.” Maille doused the halo and lit up her bat wand a bright yellow. But there wasn’t much to illuminate.
Red’s cell was empty.
Simon felt all the hope drain out of him through the pit of his stomach.
“Yes, the would-be assassin let Red go before she bungled the rest of her evening.” Merlin emerged from the shadows, as if he’d been there all along.
“We need to find him,” Simon said to the wizard. “If he’s under control…”
Merlin shook his head. “It’s too late. He’s out of my sight now.”
Gwen put her hand on Simon’s shoulder, but he pulled away. He wasn’t going to be pitied.
“I don’t believe you. I think you know where he went. You always know more than you tell us. I’ll get him back here myself if I have to. Please, Merlin.”
“Ah! He asks politely for the first time.”
“I just want to help my friend.”
Merlin’s cavalier smirk faded and he tapped his walking stick on the floor a few times. Simon wondered if this was some kind of weak display of shame.
“He took my vambrace, Merlin. You want me to get it back, right?”
The wizard pulled the vambrace out of thin air and handed it to Simon.
“You had it this whole time?” Simon asked, angry.
“Of course not, you fool. It was on the lady in black. She took it from Red when she freed him.”
“Maybe that’s why Gwen and I could see the assassin in the throne room,” Simon said. “If the assassin had the vambrace then it was probably close enough for us to share its power.” He slipped the vambrace on and decided he’d wear it all the time. It felt right on his arm. When he looked up, everyone, even Merlin, smiled at him. “What?” Simon asked.
“Impressive deduction, Simon. You may be right about that,” Mer
lin said.
“Wow. He’s polite for the first time,” Simon muttered.
“Breakthroughs all around then,” Maille said, irritated. “Can we figure out what to do next?”
“Well, I’d think that was obvious, my young apprentice.” The kids waited for his answer. “We get out of this stinky dungeon.”
Merlin walked ahead, pulling Simon along. “Wait one week,” he whispered so the others wouldn’t be able to hear. “If I cannot find him by then, we’ll make a plan.”
Simon nodded. “Thanks Merlin.”
As they emerged from the dungeon door into the training yard, Gwen gasped.
She stared in horror at something on the horizon.
Simon saw it too. His eyes went wide.
Merlin noticed their awe. “What is it this time?” he asked, rolling his eyes.
A nearby mountain, which had been covered in trees only the day before, was consumed by a sprawling castle, even larger than New Camelot. Simon could only see the outline of it in the moonlight, but its size was all too clear. The spires that shot up over the mountaintop were spiked like the fangs of a serpent. A thousand rays of orange firelight poked out through a thousand windows.
The kids’ awestruck expressions began to worry the wizard. “Tell me what you see, children,” he said. “Now.”
30
Simon studied the wood towers that Merlin had ordered built within hours of discovering their mysterious neighbors. The towers’ skeletons were made from entire trees, strapped together with the thickest rope he’d ever seen. It was an impressive sight, but Simon hated the way they ruined the view. If the new structures were meant to scare the residents of the dark castle then they were probably doing a good job.
“First, your heart needs to be pounding hard for this to work,” Maille said from behind him, as she shut the filthy old window that Simon was looking through. She’d found a quiet room at the top of the North Tower — a large, empty space, lit by gray sunlight poking though the old glass. “Second,” she said, smacking Simon’s sword with her bat, “your sword is your wand, so you should be ready to use it like one.” Maille stood in the middle of the room and slipped her bat into her back holster. “Run around me a few times to get warmed up. Tell me when you’re pooped.”
