by Ben Zackheim
“Lancelotian? Now you’re making up words?”
“Whatever gets your goat, I’ll do it.” They both smiled.
“Let’s go find the armory. I think I’ve had enough scrolls for a lifetime,” Simon said.
“Fine. But I want to come back here,” Maille said. “This place is a treasure trove.”
“Indeed it is,” a deep male voice rumbled all around them. “I’ve worked hard to build it from nothing.” A figure closed one of the side doors gently.
“Hello, Uncle Victor,” Simon said, struggling to his feet.
“Hello, bloodline,” the small man growled. “What a surprise to find you here.”
“We broke another one of your minions,” Simon said. Maille seemed surprised at the tone in his voice. It was forceful, defiant.
“So I see. Unfortunate. It was just following my orders.”
“Which are what?” Maille asked. Her bat-wand had that orange glow to it.
“To find Simon. After he ran away from school, I felt it was my obligation to track him down. Of course, once I learned that Merlin found him, I ceased to care what happened one way or the other.” Victor kicked some of the stone debris across the room. “Apparently, I failed to tell this batch of gargoyles that the party was off.”
Simon got to the point. “I found my parents’ stuff here. They never left it behind.”
Victor lost all his swagger. He didn’t respond, but his face flushed red. He took a deep breath. “Where exactly did you find the materials? Are you lying to me, boy?”
That proved it. Victor didn’t know about the room below the bed. Simon had an edge on his uncle and he wasn’t going to give it up easily. “They left in a hurry because they were running from something,” Simon said. “How did they die?”
Simon had lived through two years of pain. His shattered heart might never mend, but he was convinced that knowing the truth was better than a lifetime of guessing.
He thought he was ready for any answer.
But he wasn’t ready for this.
“Who says they’re dead?” Victor said. He smiled, but it was a cruel expression.
Don’t show him hope.
Simon was the puppeteer and the puppet. He was outside his body, holding the strings, trying to keep his fists clenched, his feet underneath him.
Maille put a hand on his shoulder and held him steady.
He wants to see hope. Don’t show him hope.
“Simon… “ Maille whispered.
How much time had just passed? Simon couldn’t tell.
“You killed them,” Simon said, finally. His heart pounded — every beat echoed in his head. He focused so hard on Victor that the rest of the room disappeared. No, he wouldn’t fall for Victor’s vicious joke.
Of course they’re dead.
If they’re alive, they would have come for me.
They wouldn’t leave me in an orphanage.
“I owe you nothing, boy. Especially answers. I did Merlin a favor having you here. His request was to house you until he said so. He met my price. Now you leave me in a bad position. I’m a private man, and I didn’t invite you to my home this time. But I don’t want to do anything… permanent … to two of Merlin’s pawns. ”
With those words, the ceiling lit up with the red eyes of a hundred gargoyles. A low growl echoed around them — it sounded a lot like the growl Simon had heard when he snuck into Victor’s armory weeks before. So Red had been right. Victor didn’t have dogs. He had monsters.
Simon and Maille were in trouble. One gargoyle had been hard enough to foil. A hundred would be a rout.
“I’ll tell you where their stuff is,” Simon said, holding on to Maille for support. “If you tell me what you did to them.”
Victor hesitated. He glanced at his lackeys. “Fine,” he grunted, gesturing for the stone beasts to back off. They did, much to Simon’s relief. “I’ll give you this. I guided them closer to the answers they were seeking. And, yes, I knew it could mean the end of them. Your parents’ crusade for Excalibur is such a misguided money pit that the idea of never again having to listen to them philosophize on the decay of society and the return of some golden age had a certain appeal to me.”
Simon found the strength to take a few steps toward Victor. “You betrayed your own brother,” he said, disgusted.
“He betrayed me!” Victor’s face had gone from his usual judgmental visage to something much scarier, much more dangerous. “Thadeus’ quest for world peace, or whatever nonsense he preached, would have ruined the business arrangement I’ve had with Merlin for years.” Victor paused. He saw how Simon responded to this news and smirked. “Ah, I see. You think I killed them because I wanted to get to New Camelot before them? No, boy, I’ve known of that place for almost as long as you’ve been alive. I wasn’t about to tell your parents about it, though. Instead, I paid them a fortune to find Excalibur and stay out of my hair. When I heard the latest rumor about where the sword was hiding, I gave them a nudge in a very dangerous direction. I did have to sacrifice a private plane to keep the authorities from digging around here. A small price to pay for some peace and quiet, though. That’s all you’ll get from me. Now. Tell me where to find their materials.”
“Under my bed, there’s a stairwell to some room,” Simon said, trying to soak in everything his uncle was saying. He wouldn’t get to ask questions later.
“Hm. I didn’t think to look there. I suppose that’s the downside of living in a castle with Merlin’s magic flowing through its stones. Now, about your trespassing. Perhaps we should detain you for a while.”
Victor lifted a hand and the ceiling hissed as he took a step toward the kids.
Maille’s wand lit up with an intense red flame. She pointed it at a wall of scrolls.
“You’ll let us go, along with your finest sword, shield, and spear, or this place burns,” she said in a raised voice. Simon recognized the tone. It’s how she sounded before she did exactly what she said she was going to do.
Victor’s cold expression cracked again. The flesh of his brow folded into a frightening glare. “Then you will burn with it,” he hissed.
“Maybe,” Maille said. “Or maybe I have another spell up my sleeve.”
“Merlin has chosen wisely with you, Maille Rose.”
“How do you know who I am?”
“The famous Maille Rose? Come now. Who doesn’t know about the first apprentice to Merlin since that elf, Rukkush?”
Simon looked at her a little differently. He had no idea she was the first in such a long time. The gargoyles hissed and the flame on her wand grew brighter.
“Your finest sword, spear, and shield. NOW!” Maille yelled.
“And the location of my parents,” Simon added. Victor laughed as Maille closed her eyes, frustrated.
“Why don’t you ask me for the meaning of life while you’re at it?” his uncle said, chuckling. “Leave it to the son of my brother to blow an old-fashioned negotiation.”
But Maille knew how much this meant to Simon. The flame erupted toward some scrolls. They began to burn.
“NO!” Victor screamed. The gargoyles emerged from the ceiling’s darkness. They awaited the order to kill. Their glowing eyes blanketed the room in a blood red sheen.
“BACK AWAY!” Victor yelled, with that booming voice that could freeze a hundred workers. “Stop them from burning and you’ll get what you want from me,” Victor said, calmly.
As quickly as they’d started to burn, the flames went out. The scrolls had only been slightly damaged, which, from the look on her face, was as much a relief to Maille as it was to Victor.
“Ghewl! Get them their spoils,” Victor yelled. One of the gargoyles zipped out of the room, through a high window.
“My parents, Uncle Victor.”
“Your father is a prisoner of the dragon, Trejure. Your mother, a prisoner of someone I don’t know. She is out of reach to you, though.”
“What do you mean by that?” Simon asked.
“That answer wasn’t part of the deal.”
The gargoyle crawled through a window with the weapons bundled together with a thick rope. It dropped their bounty on the stone floor and crawled past Simon and Maille, never breaking eye contact with them as it rejoined its brethren.
Could Victor be telling the truth? If Trejure had taken his father prisoner, then the dragon was Simon’s key to finding one of his parents and the key to ending the impending attack on New Camelot. It appeared the quest for Trejure was going to be worth it, one way or another. If they got out of Victor’s alive.
“Come on, Simon,” Maille whispered.
But Simon had one more question. “If you were supposed to take care of me for Merlin, then why did your gargoyles attack my plane when I first arrived?”
“You answered your own question, boy. They weren’t mine. Why don’t you ask your precious vambrace? Now get out of my house.”
Simon grabbed the bundle of weapons and tried to drag it behind him. But it was too heavy. Victor chuckled, and his monsters joined in with their own horrid laugh — a sound like chattering bugs in a cave. Maille used her wand and hoisted the load over her head. She walked backwards, ready for an attack. When she shut the door they sprinted up the stairs.
“Do you believe him?” Simon asked, as they ran down a long hall toward the magic door.
“I don’t trust him,” she said, which Simon noticed didn’t actually answer his question. He slowed down so she could catch up.
“What did he mean, ‘ask the vambrace?’”
“Maybe all we need to do is put you, Gwen, and Chester in the same room with your vambraces and we’ll get answers.”
Simon’s heart lifted as they reached the door to New Camelot. If Maille was right, then he could find out his parents’ fate, New Camelot’s enemy, Red’s location, and Professor Tillman’s killer. Answers for everyone!
But when Simon and Maille emerged from the door in the hill they spotted Caradoc, shoulders slumped, surrounded by soldiers. Hector stood next to him, arms crossed, his frown as hard as his chest plate.
“Uh-oh,” Maille muttered.
“Simon! “ Hector barked. “What were you thinking going in there? We’ve been looking all over for you!”
“Sorry, I was…”
“Silence! Did you ever think about the kingdom’s loss of confidence if they lost their knight and their king on the same day?”
“What do you mean? Where’s Chester?” Simon asked.
“You haven’t heard?” Hector asked, skeptically. “The king has been taken.”
36
No one knows where Chester went, but Hut can’t sense him in New Camelot,” Hector explained as they marched to the castle. His strides were so long and fast that everyone, even the soldiers, tried to keep up. Poor Caradoc was stuck lugging the crate of gold leaves and the bundle of weapons up the hill. He grumbled under his breath as they walked. “Old Mrs. Criss claims she saw the king near the Lazy on Graham Street, but it’s been inactive for centuries.”
So much for getting all the vambraces in the same room together, Simon thought.
“Where’s Gwen? Is she okay?” Simon asked.
“She’s better than you’d expect her to be, considering her brother has disappeared. Now,” Hector said, gruffly, to Simon “where did you find the gold?”
Simon explained what had happened, down to the last detail. He almost told him what Victor had said about his parents, but he knew that Hector would instantly stop listening. He’d think Simon was being manipulated into a fool’s crusade.
Recklessly, Simon also revealed what he wanted to do with the treasure.
“Give the whole thing away?” Hector asked, disgusted. They stopped just outside the east entrance to the castle.
“It’s mine to give,” Simon said with as strong a voice as he could muster. “It’s the best way to buy whatever goodwill we can.”
Hector shook his head. “I don’t know, Simon. Trejure is not one to come out of negotiations on the bottom.”
Maille jumped in. “Do you have a better idea?”
After a moment, the knight said, simply, “No.”
“Then let’s get going. Come with us,” Simon said.
Hector smiled. “You can’t just leave. I need to let the generals know. The soldiers and citizenry will want time to ponder this. They’ll be without many of the people they rely on for peace of mind.”
Simon shrugged. “They should get used to it.” Maille was so stunned by this that she slapped his shoulder. “Seriously. They want to have fairs and balls. But someone used strong magic to draw the dragon’s attack. Someone used me to put New Camelot in danger. And someone took Chester without setting off any alarms.”
“You mean, the king,” Hector corrected.
“Yeah, him. Like Merlin said, unless we figure out what’s going on and who we’re up against, everything could be lost.”
Hector crossed his arms and stared at Simon for a moment. Finally, he said, “You speak the truth, Simon. Trejure is as likely a culprit in the king’s disappearance as Shadow is. If the dragon has him, then we’ll barter for peace and for the king’s release. If Shadow has the king, then we must have faith that Merlin will rescue him.”
Hector pulled a soldier aside. After a moment, the soldier gestured for the others to follow him, leaving Caradoc, Hector, Simon, and Maille alone.
Hector walked ahead. “Let’s go, then.”
Simon and Gwen smiled at each other.
“Don’t worry about me,” Caradoc whined from ten yards back. “I’ll catch up.” He heaved the crate onto his shoulder.
THE PARTY WORKED their way to the edge of the Odders’ village.
Simon couldn’t get something his uncle said out of his head. “Victor said my parent’s quest for Excalibur is a money pit,” he recounted to Maille. “Like they were still looking.”
When Maille didn’t say anything, the reason dawned on Simon. If they were headed out to meet Trejure, and the dragon had his dad, then New Camelot might not matter to Simon anymore.
“I’m fine, Maille,” he assured her. “We need to get the dragons away from New Camelot. That plan hasn’t changed. I won’t do anything too stupid.”
She smiled. But Simon knew she’d be keeping a close eye on him.
They stopped at an outdoor market for supplies. The Odder shoppers stared, not accustomed to getting visits from Merlin’s apprentice and his favorite general. Simon guessed that all the kingdom would be abuzz about their shopping session within an hour.
The large shadows of the tallest towers fell over them as the sun set. Simon could see which rooms of the south tower Mary Mouthy was in, as window after window lit up with a warm light glow. She’d told Simon that lighting torches was her favorite part of the day because she got to visit with everyone as they prepared for dinner.
Simon could practically feel his soft bunk under him. He shook the comforting thought from his head. He knew it would be a while before he enjoyed any comfort.
Hector stopped near the outer wall of the kingdom. He pulled out a parchment from his bag. “Let’s make sure we know where we’re going,” he said, unrolling the paper on top of a flat stone.
“This is about where Trejure’s lair is located,” Maille said, pointing to a large mountain to the north. She wove her finger down the map, through forests, canyons, and valleys, all the way to New Camelot. “This is us. You can see there’s no ideal path. It’s all rough terrain. My guess is it will take a couple of days if we move fast.”
“I got me a ton and a half of gold to carry, Maille,” Caradoc said. “I don’t think we’ll be moving that quick.”
“Can’t you just transport us there with a spell, or something?” Simon asked Maille.
“I’m flattered you think so much of me. I’m an apprentice, Simon. Not a wizard. Only Merlin can send people. It’s some trick he picked up...”
“...In India,” Simon finished. “I know he told me. What about Hu
t? He’s supposed to be pretty powerful, too.”
“He is. But Merlin won’t share the spell with him either.”
“The old man’s ego is going to be the death of us,” Caradoc grumbled.
Simon glanced at the horizon. “We have enough supplies for a week. We’re not in any hurry. As long as these dragon spies see us leaving with his gold, we should buy as much time as we need.”
He was surprised at how clearly he was thinking. He was headed into a dangerous situation, but his mind was only on what needed to be done. Maille and Caradoc seemed to take some solace from his plan.
“I want some insurance, though,” Hector said. “Dragons can smell gold, but only Trejure can pinpoint exactly where it is. We’ll need to make sure we lose the spies once we enter this patch of forest here.” Hector pointed to the map. “We can double back and take this route under tree cover. The trick will be letting them know we have the gold so they leave New Camelot alone, but losing them fast enough to spare us all a fight.”
“That we can’t win,” Caradoc added.
“A hearty thanks for that, Caradoc,” Hector shot back.
The dragon that had attacked New Camelot was still on its perch a couple of mountain ranges away. It kept its eyes on the castle, just as the dragon spies had done in 1803. But, unlike 1803, the humans had a plan. It wasn’t a simple task for them to work out a way to get the dragon to follow them. But when they finally agreed on what to do, they sat in silence to let it sink in.
“So… should we get going?” Maille asked, with a touch of excitement in her voice.
“March to adventure!” Caradoc hollered. It was a silly thing to say, but Simon liked it. He smiled at the troll, who winked back.
And something in that wink energized Simon. Something made him smile like he hadn’t smiled in a long time.
THE SMALL PARTY left Merlin’s domain through a gate at the northern end of the Odders’ village. It was manned by a single guard who smelled of booze. He saw Hector, stuffed the bottle of liquor under his chair, and let them through, without a word. Hector smacked the guard on the helmet as he passed.
