by Garth Nix
‘Tip could do that,’ said Eleanor. ‘Or one of our swords.’
‘I have rope in my pack,’ said Hundred. ‘It should be long enough. Thread we can pull from our cloaks.’
‘Is there something Tip or the swords can loop it around?’ Odo asked.
That question drew nothing but silence from those people who’d been to the top of Old Dragon Stone. Neither Egda nor Hundred could recall any extrusion strong enough to take the weight of an ascending knight, not in the form that a being without hands could manage, anyway.
‘I’ll go up the Long Stair on my own,’ said Eleanor. ‘I’m small. People don’t even see me half the time.’
‘I doubt that would be possible,’ said Hundred, but Odo could see her calculating the odds. Unless he came up with another plan, that might be the only choice available to them.
‘What about climbing the Stone on this side?’ he asked.
‘Much too difficult,’ Egda said. ‘I tried to scale it once when I was a limber lad. The cliff is too sheer. A laden knight couldn’t climb ten feet.’
‘But what if we cut steps, somehow?’
‘The stone is too tough for hammers and chisel.’
‘I know. You said it was carved by a dragon’s tooth. But what about our swords? They can only be chipped by a dragon’s tooth. Doesn’t that make them almost as tough?’
‘It does.’ Hundred pondered this further. ‘So one person ascending via handholds carved by the swords carries the rope, or a thread tied to their belt. When they reach the top, they can find an anchor point, tie a knot, and the rest can follow. Is this your suggestion, Sir Odo?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘And I should do it, since it’s my idea.’
‘No, you are too heavy,’ Hundred countered. ‘It should be me.’
‘It can’t be you,’ said Eleanor. ‘You need to stay here with Egda in case something goes wrong.’ She took a deep breath, imagining the gulf of empty air below her at the top of the Stone. ‘It has to be me. I’m the smallest, and therefore the lightest. I’ll drag the thread behind me. I’ll leave most of my armour here, but wear the shield on my back in case anyone sees me and tries to shoot me down. It’s the only way.’
Odo was amazed that his friend’s nervousness didn’t show in her voice. He knew how wary she was of heights, but all he could hear was determination.
‘I believe this plan is the best we can come up with,’ said Egda, gripping her by the shoulder. ‘I firmly believe you can do it.’
‘Well done, Sir Eleanor.’ Hundred grinned. ‘Now, let us make haste. If we are to win the day, we must arrive before Odelyn does. And we have no way of knowing where she is right now.’
Prince Kendryk swayed on his feet, staring blankly up the Long Stair like a man in a dream. The way was lit by torches, flickering and yellow. What was he doing here? Something important, he was sure of it. It had, however, momentarily slipped his mind …
‘Get him moving,’ snapped a sharp voice. ‘I don’t care if you have to carry him, Lord Deor, but we can’t have him holding us up every time his thoughts wander. If he didn’t have to sign his abdication, I’d have left him in the palace with his doodles.’
The jagged hilt of an old, gore-stained sword jabbed him hard in the spine.
‘Start climbing,’ growled the Chief Regulator in his ear. ‘Or I swear I’ll push you in the back on the way down.’
Oh, yes. Kendryk remembered now. He was ascending Old Dragon Stone with his grandmother for her coronation ceremony. How could he have forgotten that?
As his legs began to move, resuming his climb one stair at a time, more memories stirred. He hadn’t slept for three straight days. That was why he had forgotten. And why hadn’t he slept? Because he had been painting, painting furiously in the desperate hope of finishing in time.
Had he?
Had he finished?
Doubt became hope, which turned into certainty when a vision of the completed mural flashed into his mind.
He had finished. The great work of his life so far was done.
It was almost over.
Up and down his knees went as he ascended step by step, following a man he didn’t know, a hairy behemoth wearing a wolfskin cloak and carrying a brand whose flames were green-tinged. Ahead of him was the woman carrying the crown in its ceremonial sack. There were four hundred and fifty-seven steps in the Long Stairs, a number he remembered learning from his great-uncle, who had taught him everything he needed to know to be a good king, except how to contain his grandmother’s ambition. Nothing would satisfy her once she’d set her heart on the throne.
Well, Kendryk had soon thought, let her try. She’d quickly realise what a mistake it was.
There was nothing glamorous about ruling Tofte, as her procession of humourless, grey-faced Instruments, Regulators and Adjustors proved. They had no life to them, no heart or imagination. Not like the knights they sought to replace.
His first move, were he king, would be to recall all of those she had sent out into the kingdom. He would have to find other uses for them, of course; it wasn’t their fault she had deluded them with false dreams. They could help run the palace accounts, perhaps, or assist the lawyers negotiating trade deals with neighbouring countries, while the knights went back to the manors. Yes, that could work. Prince Kendryk’s weary head spun with plans that utterly contradicted the reality he was caught in. He knew very well that he would never be king.
Step. Step. Step.
His hands were tender where an apologetic attendant had scrubbed them with a wire brush while two others dressed him in attire fit for the ceremony. There was still paint under his fingernails, though. When he raised his hands to his nose, he could smell the orange, the red, the gold …
‘Remind me of the words, Lord Deor,’ he said.
‘Which words?’ came the gruff reply.
‘Of the ritual. The ones my aunt will utter when she pierces Old Dragon Stone with the Royal Sword.’
‘You don’t need to know,’ spat Deor.
‘No matter,’ replied Kendryk dreamily. ‘I learned them too. “Let Aldewrath object.” The great Aldewrath, who crowned the First King. What do you think would happen if he were alive now?’
Deor laughed. ‘Aldewrath was never real. Just a story for children. Like your daubs.’
‘I wonder if a legendary dragon ate my great-uncle,’ muttered Kendryk. ‘One old dragon eating another. Any more true tales of his death come along?’
‘I’ll feed you to a dragon if you don’t shut up,’ said Lord Deor. But Kendryk was no longer listening. He was going up, up, up in the wake of a man who smelled of moss and rabbit droppings, while thinking of Egda and hoping the old man had somehow survived his third reported death. There was a smithy near Kyles Frost, one of the old ones. They would have helped him if he lived, Kendryk was sure of it.
Perhaps he was nearby, awaiting his chance.
Kendryk hoped so. He knew his great-uncle would want to be there.
Dragon, dragon, heed our call.
Come to aid us, one and all.
His lips forming the words of the ancient song, Prince Kendryk climbed grimly and in silence to a fate he could not avoid.
Just keep climbing, Eleanor told herself. Don’t look down. Don’t even look up. Just reach for the next handhold and … pull.
Her shoulders hurt, and so did her calves. Even the light cord she was dragging up tied to her waist had become heavier than she expected. But that was nothing compared to how it would feel if she fell. Briefly.
Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, there wasn’t much light to see by. The city provided barely a glimmer as she ascended Old Dragon Stone, so even if she had looked down, she couldn’t have estimated her height. She couldn’t see the top either. It blurred into the black sky and seemed an infinite distance away. All she could do was search with her fingertips, seeking the notch that Biter or Runnel had hacked into the stone for her.
‘l! e! f! t!’ chirped Tip, and she adjusted her hand
accordingly, found the spot. The bat’s guidance was essential in the night; it was all too easy for Eleanor to drift sideways instead of going straight up to the next handholds.
Pull.
Her feet followed suit below, occupying the notches that had held her fingers not long ago. Periodically, one of the swords descended to tell her that she was making excellent progress, but she tried not to think about that either. She felt as though she had been climbing forever. It was easier if she accepted it and just kept going.
‘r! i! g! h! t!’
Something tickled her face. Instinctively she blinked and twisted, while at the same time clinging tightly, afraid for an instant that she might lose her balance. It felt like a bug, perhaps even a spider!
Pull.
‘If we make it to the top in one piece, it’ll all be worth it,’ Eleanor told herself.
‘Brave heart, Sir Eleanor!’ called down Runnel, followed a second later by a shower of rock dust. ‘You’re nearly there!’
‘Don’t tease me,’ she said. ‘You’ve told me that before.’
‘Yes, but this time it is true,’ Biter declared. ‘Our endeavour has proved highly successful.’
‘Well, don’t talk too soon. I’m not there yet.’
Reach. Pull.
Far below, Odo strained his eyes to keep his friend in sight. Eleanor had long ago vanished into the dark bulk of the Old Dragon Stone. He reminded himself that this was a good thing. If neither he nor Hundred could see her, then neither could anyone else.
Fortunately for them, the sun would rise on the far side of the Stone. They hoped to climb in the predawn shadow, if only Eleanor reached the top in time.
The cord danced loosely in his hands as Eleanor took another step up. Odo carefully spooled it out, making sure it didn’t tangle. As long as it kept going, he knew Eleanor was climbing.
‘She must be near the top,’ whispered Hundred. ‘How much cord is left, Sir Odo?’
‘A few fathoms. But she’s still climbing.’
Even as Odo spoke, the cord jerked back and forth in his hands. His heart froze, thinking Eleanor was about to fall, but then the cord began moving upward at a much more rapid pace. The spool uncoiled and then the heavier rope it was tied to began to rise, the great coil near Odo steadily unravelling.
‘It’s her!’ Odo cried. ‘She’s pulling up the rope!’
‘Very well done, Sir Eleanor,’ said Hundred, beaming. ‘The hard part for her is over. Soon it will be our turn.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Odo checked the rope to make sure it too would rise without hindrance. ‘I should go last, just in case I slip. Not that I will, but I would hate to drag you two down with me if something went wrong.’
‘Very well.’ Hundred accepted the sense of his suggestion. ‘I will go first, then my liege. Unless he would like to be lifted up in a sling? There will be enough rope to form a rudimentary basket.’
Egda barked a laugh. ‘You are mistaking me for our old friend Beremus. He was the one who had to be carried with his eyes tightly shut across Cheerless Chasm! Compared to that worn-out old rope bridge, this will be simple.’
Odo grinned with them. It was good to see Egda remembering his old friends with happiness, not grief.
The rope ascended rapidly at first, then slowed as the weight of it increased. Odo was glad they had tested Eleanor’s strength before sending her on the mission, otherwise he would worry that it would be too heavy for her to haul. The rope, fortunately, was thin and light, while at the same time incredibly strong. Odo had tested that element too, tugging on a length with all his strength. The rope hadn’t so much as twisted.
They watched the rope ascend steadily for some minutes until, at last, it stopped. Odo gave Eleanor a minute to tie the knot, then gave it a firm tug, twice.
Two tugs came back down to him: the signal to ascend.
Hundred dusted her hands, gripped the rope, and began to climb. Odo watched her as she went up the side of Old Dragon Stone much faster than Eleanor had. The rope below her twitched violently in his hands, and soon it was Egda’s turn to follow. He too was much spryer than an old person had any right to be, but Odo wasn’t surprised. He had seen the pair in action too many times to be fooled by their looks.
When Hundred vanished from sight, the rope twitched two more times – a message relayed by Egda. A second later, Tip was with Odo, flapping excitedly to signal that it was his turn to join the aerial humans.
Saying a brief farewell to the pleasant greenery of the Royal Physic Garden, and trying not to notice an ashen shade to the sky, as though the first hint of day was already appearing on the other side of the Stone, Odo took the rope in both hands, placed his booted feet against the rock, and began to climb.
Above, Eleanor watched anxiously as her friends inched towards her. She was glad she didn’t need to pull them up. After firmly knotting the rope around a sturdy-looking nub of rock shaped roughly like a horse’s head, tucked inconspicuously into a hollow in the stone, she had bound her hands up in cloth to spare her scraped skin any further abuse. Just holding Runnel made her palm and fingers feel like they were on fire, even though the sword promised to be gentle. Eleanor wished she had some of her father’s healing salve, but that was in her pack, which Odo was carrying, along with her armour.
She had a fine view of the western wing of the palace, a tangle of pointed spires and buttresses that defied easy navigation, but her attention wasn’t fixed on it. Instead, every minute or so she leaned out as far as she dared to see how Hundred was faring. When she arrived at the top of the rope, Eleanor lent her a hand to come up into the hollow, where she dusted herself down and took a drink of water.
‘Excellent spot,’ Hundred declared, craning her neck to peer out of the hollow at the rippling surface of the top of the Stone. It was ridged like a giant fingerprint, pressing up at the sky. ‘No one will see us until we want to be seen. Wait here for the others and I will scout around. Biter, with me.’
‘Yes, sir.’
With that, she was gone, scampering like a four-legged creature up to the very top of the Stone as easily as if she hadn’t just climbed anywhere at all. Odo’s magical sword followed like an obedient pet.
Egda was next, his staff tied securely at his back next to his shield, and Eleanor called down to him to let him know he was almost there. The former king needed no assistance joining her, however. He found his own security by hand and under foot, and stood with only slightly less flexibility than Hundred had.
‘Hundred is scouting, I presume?’ he asked.
‘Yes, she told me to wait here.’
‘I have no doubt she will be back soon.’ He looked to the east, as though momentarily forgetting that he was blind. ‘Where stands the day? Is dawn far off?’
The sky was turning straw yellow over the bulge of the Stone’s uneven summit. ‘Not long now,’ Eleanor told him. ‘Odo better get a move on, the lumpish … uh, knight.’
Egda laughed. ‘No need to watch your tongue around me, Sir Eleanor. I have heard far worse on the battlefield.’
‘He speaks the truth,’ said Runnel. ‘I f words could wound, I’ve heard some that would take a head clean off.’
Hundred and Biter returned at the same time Odo and Tip completed their ascent. Odo had barely a moment to catch his breath while Eleanor quickly put her armour back on, with Hundred’s help, and salved her hands. They needed to hurry.
‘The royal procession has reached the top of the Stone,’ Hundred explained. ‘I do not see Odelyn yet, but there are Instruments gathering at the summit of the Long Stair. I have no doubt that she will arrive shortly.’
‘And I did not see the Falconstone,’ said Biter, sounding faintly disappointed that his nemesis wasn’t immediately available to fight.
‘Patience, little brother,’ Runnel cautioned.
‘The ceremony will begin when they reach the proper place,’ said Egda. ‘Who is closer, them or us?’
‘We are, by a fraction.’
‘Then we can afford to be cautious. They will move slowly, as one; we will disperse and be stealthy. In pairs, we can get close before they see us, and attack from two sides.’
‘Odo and Eleanor, together,’ said Hundred. ‘I will stay with my liege.’
They nodded, relieved to be fighting at each other’s side.
‘Will you give us a signal?’ Odo asked.
‘We will use Tip, if he can bear the sun when it rises,’ said Egda. Tip chirped his assent. ‘He will deliver word that our attack is about to begin. Otherwise, use your best judgment – and ignore what anyone says before or during the ceremony. The words are mere tradition and mean nothing. Your task is to keep the crown off the regent’s head.’
‘Get it to Prince Kendryk if you can,’ Hundred added. ‘We might as well crown him while we’re at it.’
‘You saw him?’ asked Egda.
‘No, but he will be here. She will need him to formally abdicate his claim in front of witnesses.’
‘Indeed.’ Egda sighed. ‘Also, Odelyn loves to gloat.’
‘So, then, you have your orders,’ said Hundred to Eleanor and Odo.
‘Stop the ceremony,’ said Odo.
‘Prevent the coronation of an impostor,’ Biter said.
‘Get the crown,’ said Eleanor.
‘And restore peace to the realm,’ said Runnel. ‘A fine day’s work!’
They split into pairs and headed off in opposite directions, Eleanor and Odo to the right with their magic swords, Egda, Hundred and Tip to the left, staying crouched to avoid being seen too soon.
None of them noticed the eagle hovering high above, watching the humans scurrying, its once sharp, golden eye now clouded with smoke.
‘How many do you think there’ll be?’ asked Eleanor as they scrambled across the top of Old Dragon Stone, sword in one hand, shield in the other. Her raw hands were no concern now. All she felt was anticipation for battle.
‘In her honour guard? Your guess is as good as mine.’ Not too many, Odo hoped, but he wasn’t going to be put off by whatever he saw when they came into view. He had a job to do, and he would do it, or try to.
