The Camelot Kids

by Ben Zackheim

  “Sorry, sir! Won’t ‘appen again, sir!” the guard shouted, watching them walk up the mountain path.

  They worked their way around the perimeter of Mount Tripper. The mossy ground caught Caradoc by surprise a few times, sending him and the crate sliding downhill. Maille kept her bat-wand ready for each fall. Every time she heard Caradoc’s “Oopsie!” she stopped his momentum with a particularly smelly spell.

  When they rounded a bend and saw the terrain on the other side of the mountain, Simon could tell that it was going to be a tough trek all right. Tall mountains dominated the view. Several peaks away, an orange glow emanated from the top, as if the mountain were on fire.

  “That’s where we’re headed,” Caradoc muttered.

  “Friendly,” Simon said.

  Hector’s gaze was fixed on the horizon. “I’ve been close before. We have some nasty surprises ahead.” Whatever he was remembering, Simon was sure he would educate them when the time was right.

  A faint glow from Maille’s bat-wand illuminated the ground as they hiked through a valley of tall grass. The mountains loomed, like giants blocking the horizon. Simon’s eyes saw fields, trees, and friends trudging alongside him.

  But he sensed something else in the sweet breeze. Something more.

  Maille caught his eye. She smiled. Was she feeling the same way too?

  That’s when Simon recognized it. It had been so long. Two years of loneliness. Thousands of hours of fighting ghosts and myths and bullies — and such a deep, deadly loneliness.

  But Simon knew, just like that, that he finally had hope.

  And he gave into it.

  The grass grew from earth on which his parents tread too. The trees cast shadows they could find comfort in on a hot day. His friends were people they would like.

  Will like.

  Simon decided to believe Victor. Was he strong enough to lose his mom and dad again if his uncle was lying? He didn’t know, but he felt strong enough to find out.

  Smiling, he gazed at the sky. His parents were under the same sky, somewhere. He would find them.

  37

  “Open it,” Simon said. It was time to see if their plan would work. For New Camelot to avoid an attack, Trejure and his army needed to know that the gold was on its way into the forest.

  Caradoc lifted the crate’s lid off, revealing the pile of gold leaves. Maille swung her bat-wand in circles, singing a spell under her breath that sounded a lot like Jingle Bells. Suddenly, from the silence of a still night, a strong wind rose.

  The smell of gold would surround the dragon spy within seconds. Hector watched their target through a small telescope.

  “So?” Simon asked, after a moment passed.

  “Nothing yet,” Hector answered. But then, “Wait.”

  The dragon let out a high-pitched screech.

  “Okay, he got a whiff of it,” Hector said, “but he needs directions.” Simon could swear his teacher smiled a little bit.

  “On it,” Maille replied. She stopped swinging her bat-wand. The wind vanished. She pointed her stick at the sky.

  “Don’t overdo it, or they’ll think it’s a trap,” Hector said, squinting to keep an eye on the dragon.

  “Don’t worry,” Maille assured him. She shot a fist-sized ball of red light into the air. The missile left a dim orange trail in the air, then exploded. It wasn’t a bright blast, but it made a sharp sound, like a snapping whip.

  They all watched Hector for an update. Everything depended on that dragon seeing them enter the forest. If it didn’t, well, then their plan to buy some time for New Camelot would fail.

  Hector folded his telescope up and stuffed it in his bag. “Here he comes.”

  Caradoc shut the crate of gold tight, then flung it on his back. The others surrounded him and the party of four hurried into the forest.

  Within seconds, the sound of beating wings drowned out their own anxious breath. The plan was working so far. The dragon knew they were carrying the gold, but it couldn’t spot them through the thick tree cover.

  The party doubled back once they reached the patch of forest that Hector had pointed to on the map. When the sounds of the flying beast receded into the night, accompanied by a couple of frustrated screams, everyone started to breathe normally again.

  Which was a bit premature.

  GRRRRRRMMMMMM.

  “What was that?” Simon whispered. Whatever it was, it was nearby, and it was loud enough to help the dragon find them.

  “Sorry,” Caradoc groaned. “Me tummy.”

  Maille tore open her pack and dug out a loaf of bread, which she tossed to him. The troll gulped it down in one go. He smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. But the smile faded when the sound of dragon’s wings returned.

  Their pursuer was circling back.

  Everyone stayed dead still. Caradoc looked down at his tummy and whispered to it like a dad shushing his baby. The dragon passed directly over them. The force of its wings blew their hair around like a strong wind.

  Then it stopped. No wind. No sound.

  Suddenly, a group of trees behind them began to bend. Branches and leaves rained down. Hector motioned for them to settle and stay quiet. Every instinct told Simon to run, but he did what his teacher instructed.

  Simon looked up and realized what was going on. Two huge, taloned claws clenched the tips of some trees. The dragon balanced itself on them, swaying back and forth like a cat that had just jumped on a hammock. The blanket of leaves still hid the small party from the beast, but it wouldn’t be long before it spotted them from its perch.

  A high-pitched cackling echoed through the forest. The sound came from behind them. Or was it in front? It was all too familiar to Simon and Caradoc. The two of them spun around to face their faeries, who were meshed together again in a horrific ball of twisted flesh, misplaced eyeballs and a gaping mouth. A mouth with a smirk that stopped their hearts for a beat.

  Okay, now we’re doomed, Simon thought.

  But, to his surprise, the mutant faerie winked, flew in-between him and Caradoc (giving both a hard smack on the heads) and zipped off into the forest. It bounced off trees like a really ugly pinball, knocking a few down. The faerie’s giggling joined the frustrated screech of Trejure’s soldier. Everyone covered their ears. The dragon shot off after the faerie, knocking a few trees down with the force of its launch.

  The ugly bug had saved them.

  Stunned, they shared wide-eyed glances, waiting for the sound of beating wings. Waiting for the faerie to lead the hunter back to them. But after a minute, Hector stood up straight and brushed himself off.

  “It probably doesn’t want to lose the chance to get rid of us itself,” Simon said of the faerie.

  “There’s a cave nearby, according to the map,” Hector said, still keeping his voice low. He showed no sign of being flustered. Simon envied him. His insides were a mess.

  “Fine. Time to eat,” Simon said, shooting Caradoc a look.

  The map was right. Lucky for them, the cave was dry, empty and big enough to fit a troll. Caradoc laid the crate of gold down and rested his head on it like it was a pillow. Everyone dug into some jerky. Their fierce exhaustion was tamed by the knowledge that it would be a while before they could sleep. The plan was to get as much distance covered in the dark as possible.

  They were throwing their sacks (and crate) over their shoulders for the next leg of their trip when a small rock fell from over the cave entrance.

  “Ssh!” Maille raised her hand. They stood still. Someone was working his way down the hill above them. Maille pulled out her bat-wand and walked to the entrance. Caradoc tried to be quiet but his breathing ricocheted around the cave walls. Maille might as well have snarled at him with the glare she gave. So he held his breath.

  Someone whispered outside. Hector held up three fingers, two, one…

  They leapt from the cave. Maille cast a flash spell to blind their visitors.

  “RARRRGH!” roared Caradoc.

  “AHH
HHHH!” yelled Josh, Russ and Gwen. They stumbled back and fell on their butts in perfect unison, holding their hands over their eyes.

  “Wait!” Simon rushed to Gwen’s side. She pushed away from him, unable to see a thing. “It’s us, Gwen!”

  “Simon!” Gwen said with a smile. “You scared us half to death.”

  All three newcomers were trying to stand, but they couldn’t get their bearings thanks to the flash spell.

  “What are you guys doing here?” Simon asked.

  “We’re looking for you!” Josh said to a nearby boulder.

  “Yeah,” Russ piped in. “What’s the deal, leaving us behind?”

  “It’s dangerous, Russ,” Simon said. “I didn’t see any reason to pull you in when it’s my fault we’re in this mess.”

  Gwen frowned. Simon had it coming now. “In case you don’t remember…” she started to say, before Maille gently positioned her so that she actually faced Simon. “In case you don’t remember, I had a little something to do with our predicament, too!”

  “Yeah, but…” Simon said.

  “No buts! Ugh! You’re so full of yourself, all caught up in your own problems. It’s obvious from hello. You don’t even listen to anyone else!”

  The accusation came from nowhere. Simon searched his frazzled head for a response, but the best he could do was, “I don’t? Wait. What?” He turned to Maille for support. He quickly regretted it.

  “Hey, she’s right,” Maille said with a shrug.

  He glanced at Caradoc, who raised his hands in the air as if he didn’t want to have anything to do with this conversation.

  “Fine,” Simon finally said. “Come with us and get burned alive by a thousand dragons.”

  “Fine,” Gwen repeated. She stormed past him, knocking his shoulder hard. Simon hoped it was only because she still couldn’t see very well.

  Josh and Russ did their best to give each other a high five three times before they gave up.

  ONCE EVERYONE COULD see again, the party of seven set out into the darkness.

  Josh and Russ kept the conversation going with whatever poppycock they could pluck from each other’s heads — the correct handling of gryphon chicks, why wearing armor means one doesn’t need to wear underwear and every nuance of the best jousts they’d ever seen. They both agreed on Hector’s victory over some knight named Bagladesh. At one point, Simon thought he might tear his eardrums out if he had to listen to another second of the best way to shine a crossbow (the two boys had been going on for over an hour, and appeared to be on the verge of concluding that soap and water was the best method). Simon suggested they should stop for a nap under a dense canopy of leaves. Even Hector agreed it was time. The sun would be up soon enough.

  They were all asleep within five minutes, except Josh and Russ, who got first watch. They volunteered because they had to finish an argument about white chocolate versus milk chocolate anyway.

  The moment he shut his eyes, Simon was elsewhere. It was the kind of dream that felt as real as the hard ground he laid on. In it, he stood in the living room of his family’s New York apartment. A painting on the wall, solid black inside a gold frame, beckoned. He approached it slowly, like it was a wild animal. Everything was too quiet. He couldn’t even hear the city below.

  I should hear cars, horns, angry cabbies.

  When he got close to the painting he realized it was a hole in the wall. A sound, like a whisper, fell from it. He moved closer to hear better.

  A dead-white hand shot out and grabbed his hair. He tried to pull free but he couldn’t move. A thunderous voice boomed from everywhere.

  “You think you know what you’re after? You’ll know better soon enough. It’s all been a lie, young Simon. All of it. From your first memory to today. But tomorrow…”

  The voice broke and he was pulled into the darkness of the golden frame.

  “The lies end tomorrow.”

  His eyes jerked open.

  Josh and Russ had moved on to arguing the minutia of predicting rain.

  “…he said that if the edge of the gray cloud is white, there’s lightning for sure. Oh, hey, Simon.”

  Dream. Just a dream. Breathe. Smile.

  “Hey,” Simon said. “How long have we been out?” He noticed that the group was still asleep, and the sun was high enough in the sky to penetrate the leaf cover.

  “I don’t know. You know, Russ?”

  “Six hours?” Russ guessed.

  “Six hours!” Simon yelled. Everyone woke up with a start. Maille lunged to her feet, bat ready, before her eyes had even opened.

  “SIXSIXSIX!” Caradoc hollered, half-asleep.

  “You guys let us sleep six hours?” Simon asked.

  “Sure. Not a very long sleep, if you ask me,” Josh said, and Russ nodded.

  Simon took a deep breath. If any dragons had seen them from above they would know by now. He tried to calm himself by putting on his best smile. Gwen’s criticisms from the day before still stung. He made eye contact with her as she sat up and patted down her hair. Simon was determined to show her that she was wrong about him.

  “And, uh, you two didn’t sleep at all?” Simon added.

  “Nah, we slept yesterday,” Russ said.

  Simon had no idea what he meant by that, so he let it go with a polite nod.

  “Eat something,” Hector told everyone from a tree branch high above their heads. “We’re headed out in fifteen minutes.” Apparently, Hector had been up for awhile and had let them sleep in, too.

  When they set out, Simon’s mind went straight back to the dream. He did his best to convince himself that it was just a nightmare. But his scalp felt raw where the hand had grabbed him. Also, what the voice had said – it felt more like a message than a dream. What did it mean? What, exactly, was a lie? That he was Lancelot’s heir? That his parents were alive? The voice had sounded a lot like Merlin, but he couldn’t be sure.

  The party reached a wall of trees at the base of a couple of mountains. They could go around one of the peaks and be exposed, or try their luck in the thickening woods. The kids waited for Hector to guide them.

  “Any way we go is dangerous,” Hector said. “Simon will decide. This is his mission.”

  Everyone looked at Simon. For the first time, he felt the pressure of leading a small group of people, most of them older than he was.

  “Okay, then we go through the forest. I like the cover it gives us from any passing dragons.”

  “Good thinking,” Josh declared. Simon looked to Hector for a signal that his choice was the right one. But Hector was as hard to read as ever.

  At first they could see the forest’s edges on both sides of them, butting up against the bottom of two mountains. But within an hour there was no sign of a way out. In fact, there was no sign of anything but trees. Even the sky was gone. Josh and Russ lit two torches and took the lead.

  Simon questioned whether his decision was a good one. Maybe he could suggest they turn around? Everyone was really taking this whole “leader” thing seriously. The lesson of the day seemed to be, “Are you the one who is least aware of what you should be scared of? Okay, you’re in charge.”

  Simon was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize he was veering toward Gwen. When he found himself side-by-side with her, he knew he’d have to say something. He noticed that she was wearing her vambrace too.

  “You’re wearing your vam...” they said at the same time.

  It was worth a smile, even as Simon wanted to smack himself in the head. Why had he ditched a perfectly good witch-in-training? Not to mention someone with something to prove. What a stupid move. As far as he was concerned, it was yet another sign that he wasn’t up to being a leader.

  “I’m sorry I left you behind,” Simon said.

  Gwen sighed. “I forgive you.” The tension disappeared immediately.

  “And I’m sorry about your brother.”

  “Yeah, well… He has a talent for getting into trouble. But he’s eve
n better at getting out of it.”

  They celebrated their truce by walking in silence. Of course, that didn’t stop Josh and Russ from blabbing away. In fact, the chatter had only gotten worse as they trekked deeper into the woods.

  “Yaks make comfy rides if you feed them every couple of hours!” Russ insisted.

  “Their backs aren’t curved right for people’s butts,” Josh said, making circular motions with one hand around his buttocks. “And they don’t make yak saddles anyway.”

  “Mr. Trembly does. He sells them in the back of the store.”

  “Mr. Trembly sells whistles for kitties! Have you ever seen a cat blow a whistle?”

  “In fact…”

  Maille couldn’t take it anymore. “Will you two keep it down?” she said. “We’re trying to slip by an army of dragons here!”

  Simon noticed a worried expression on Caradoc’s face as Maille moved ahead of everyone. She’d been very quiet since Gwen and the boys had arrived.

  “This place is not good for us,” the troll muttered.

  Only Simon heard him. “What do you mean?” he asked. He tried to get a bead on Maille, but it was too dark.

  “I don’t know. Something is not right. I feel…” But Caradoc didn’t have time to finish his thought.

  A terrified scream cut through the darkness ahead.

  “MAILLE!” Simon started to run, but Hector stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. When Simon protested, Hector held a finger up to his mouth to shush him.

  Everyone was silent. In the darkness, a low hiss arose, like leaves circling in the wind. But the hiss flowed to a steady beat.

  Like breath.

  38

  “What is it?” Josh asked, sliding his sword out of its scabbard. Hector, Russ, and Simon did the same. Gwen raised her wand.

  “It did something to Maille, whatever it is,” Simon growled.

  He grabbed a torch from Russ and threw it into the darkness. The torch lay there for a moment. Then something emerged from the pitch black, too fast for them to see, and snuffed out the flame.

  “Did anyone see?” Russ asked.