“Yeah,” Kynder said into the crook of his arm.
“Did you tell them why?”
“I wanted to but I couldn’t,” Kynder whispered, full of shame. He picked his head up and said, “It was almost like an invisible hand was stopping me.”
Clive slurped his coffee. For several moments that was the only sound. Finally he said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What do you know about this Merlin?”
Kynder thought. “I don’t know . . . that he was imprisoned in Cincinnati, that he knows Morgaine made Arthur, that he’s the same guy from all the old stories, that he and the witch hate each other. Sure, he can be bossy in his own way, but he seems like a generally stand-up guy. That’s why Artie—”
Clive cut him off with a brisk wave of his hand. “That’s all fine. But have you come across his name in any of these books?”
No, Kynder hadn’t. Merlin’s name was impossible to find. It could have been because so many of the books were in strange languages, but even now with Clive translating, Kynder still had no recollection of seeing Merlin in the research. Perhaps, it dawned on him, this was why he couldn’t find out anything about Excalibur and why it wanted Merlin dead.
Kynder started to say as much when his chest shot through with pain. He wrenched forward and realized for the first time that he’d been clutching the stone the whole time he’d been talking to his kids.
“May I see it?” Clive asked.
“See what?” Kynder asked with wild eyes.
“The thing he gave you?”
“Oh. Uh, sure.” Kynder slowly pulled the dark pebble from his pocket, holding it in a fist. It took a lot of effort, but he managed to open his hand for Clive to see.
The gnarled man leaned forward but kept his distance. “Ah, that’s a beaut. I haven’t seen one like that in a long time.”
“One what?”
“Kynder, did the wizard tell you what this does?”
“Of course. It enables me to be in the Otherworld.”
Clive winced. “Bollocks,” he chirped. “You don’t need this to be here. Why do you think they picked you to raise Artie? You’ve got a lot of magic in you, Kynder, just like your son. Just like your daughter. Just like your ex-wife.”
“You mean I don’t need this to cross?” Kynder asked, unconsciously wrapping his fingers around the rock again.
Clive nodded at Kynder’s fist. “That, my friend, is what’s called a keeper stone. They’re used to ‘keep’ people from doing certain things. For instance, I’ve seen plenty of mentions of Merlin in these books, but this stone has prevented you from seeing the same. I’ve even mentioned them to you, but the stone made it so you couldn’t hear.”
“So it keeps me from learning anything about Merlin!” Kynder said in a revelatory voice.
Clive nodded.
Kynder was in shock. “So this stone—” he began, but then the muscles in his hand cramped up and he yelled out in pain.
Clive yanked a small black box out of the inside of his shirt, flipped its top, and put it on the table. Then he took Kynder’s fist and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.
Clive said, “I’m sorry. This is going to hurt.”
Kynder looked down in fear. Clive shook his free hand and to Kynder’s astonishment it appeared to be made of wood instead of flesh and bone!
Clive slid a long, skinny digit into Kynder’s fist and began to pry his fingers away from his palm. And then—snap! snap-snap!—the index, middle, and ring fingers of Kynder’s hand broke backward at disturbing angles. The stone was revealed. A blue light shot from it, sweeping in desperation this way and that.
Clive tried to pick up the stone, but it was stuck, melded to the flesh of Kynder’s palm. Still using his long wooden finger, Clive dug into Kynder’s skin and popped the pebble out with a smack! He slid it into the box and hastily shut the lid.
Kynder, breathing hard, looked at his hand. It was a mess. His broken fingers were useless, and a bloody divot had been scooped from the center of his palm.
He looked at Clive, full of shock and awe, relief and disgust.
He could finally feel that the pebble, even though the size of a marble, had been a great burden. “Thank you,” Kynder breathed.
“Don’t mention it.”
“He won’t know?” Kynder asked nervously.
“Perhaps, but he won’t risk coming here to find out.”
“Why not?”
Clive ignored this question and said gently, “Shall I set your fingers?”
Kynder clenched his jaw. “Sure.” Then Clive carefully worked each one back into place. It hurt, but Kynder didn’t make a sound. When Clive was done, he excused himself to get some bandages.
Kynder let his hand fall to the table. His mind was overrun. Why had Merlin done this to him? Was the wizard afraid of Kynder? Or did he just not trust him? What other enchantments had Merlin cast over him?
And then, as Clive returned, the worst occurred to Kynder. “Are my children safe?” he demanded.
Clive sighed. “The wizard is . . . complicated. I think the answer to this question is yes, but to be truthful, Kynder, I don’t know.”
Kynder stood, alarmed at the implications.
“Kynder,” Clive said soothingly, “they’re fine for now. Merlin still needs them. I could arrange transport to them for you, but I think it would be more helpful if you stayed here.”
Kynder couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “But my children could be in danger!”
“Your children have been in danger ever since they met Merlin, haven’t they?”
Kynder sank back to his chair. He felt like a total failure as a father. “Yes . . . ,” he murmured.
“I think you should stay here and find out as much as you can about Merlin, now that the spell is broken. It won’t take you long.”
Kynder considered this advice as Clive wrapped his wounded hand. “Okay. But only till this evening. If I haven’t spoken to them by dinnertime, then we go to them.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“Thank you, Clive. For everything.”
“Don’t mention it.” He took a sip of coffee. “Now, I’ll go and get you some books.”
Clive stood and gave Kynder a sidelong glance. “The wizard won’t risk coming here because of me. I’m not all the way better yet, but I will be soon.”
Kynder frowned. “Because of you? What do you mean? Who are you?”
“From now on, please, call me Numinae.”
22 - IN WHICH MERLIN APOLOGIZES FOR BEING AN INSENSITIVE WIZARD
Artie and Kay tried to reconnect with Kynder on the iPad for about ten minutes, but it was pointless. Apparently the network at the Library was down. They didn’t know what to do, but a short while later the iPad chimed, and Kay rushed to it.
“Is it Kynder?” Artie asked.
“Naw. It’s Merlin,” Kay said unenthusiastically.
Artie stepped next to her and took the tablet. He swiped it on and accepted the chat invite.
“Merlin, I don’t—” Artie began.
“Wait,” Merlin said, holding up a hand. “Before you get mad at me again, let me speak. I want to apologize for the way I’ve behaved. I can see that you are devoted to Qwon, and committed to saving her, even, it seems, at the expense of reaching Avalon.”
Artie frowned. “Go on.”
“Being a king is hard, isn’t it, Artie?” Merlin asked.
“You can say that again.”
“All people with responsibilities like yours face the same problem at one time or another,” Merlin continued. “Sometimes you have to choose between what’s right and what’s smart.”
Artie considered this for a moment.
“What’s he talking about, Art?” Kay asked.
Artie looked at Kay. “I want to save Qwon. I have to save Qwon. That’s the right thing to do. But going to Avalon is the smart thing to do.” Artie let out a long sigh. “I mean, the fate
of the worlds hinges on my getting there! Is Qwon really more important than that? Should I want to save her more than I want to go to Avalon? More than I want to become king?”
Kay blew out her cheeks. “Man, I never thought of it that way.”
“I think I can help, Artie,” Merlin consoled him. “There’s a word—one I’d forgotten and that used to be very closely associated with the first King Arthur—that perfectly describes your desire to save your friend.”
“What is it?” Artie asked.
“Noble,” Merlin said with an air of gravitas.
Noble. Artie liked that.
“Like kingly,” Kay observed.
“Yes, Kay, like kingly. But it’s more than that. It means honorable, moral, principled. Only the best kings are noble in both rank and in spirit. You, young Artie Kingfisher, in spite of your misguided wizard, embody both of these perfectly.”
Artie leaned closer to the screen. At that moment he knew what he would choose, and he understood that the decision to save Qwon was smart. It was smart because it was right. After that he would figure out what to do about the rest of his mission.
“Thank you, Merlin,” Artie said.
“Thank you, sire, for being so patient with me,” Merlin said.
Artie clapped his hands. “So now that we’re agreed, and we’ve gotten Bors’s report, what do you think is the best way to go about getting Qwon? Should we follow Bors’s advice and wait till tomorrow or use the map he provided, sneak into Castel Deorc Wæters, and attempt to whisk her away now?”
“I still think it foolish to try a special-ops rescue,” Merlin said. “But I do think we can support his escape plan by distracting the witch. And the best way to do that, I believe, is by going for Kusanagi now.”
Kay huffed, “So, what? Nothing’s changed then?”
Merlin shook his head. “No, Kay, everything’s changed. From here forward, saving Qwon will be our primary purpose.”
Artie nodded slowly. “Okay, but if Qwon is priority number one, why bother with Kusanagi?”
“Because it will vex the witch. Morgaine will sense that we are pushing forward for another of the Seven. This will preoccupy her and should help our friends.”
“So off to Japan, then, eh?” came a voice directly behind Artie and Kay.
“Tom!” Kay said, jumping from her chair. “You scared me!”
“Hello, Mr. Thumb,” Merlin said. “Lovely to see you. We were just discussing Qwon’s blade.”
“I heard,” Thumb replied. “Looking forward to going to Japan. I’ve read a lot about it.”
“It should be quite an adventure,” Merlin said with a wink.
Kay pointed at the iPad. “Hey, none of that winking stuff between you two.”
Merlin chuckled. “Mr. Thumb will go over everything else. The blackout Bors desires for his escape tomorrow requires my attention. Things are happening quickly now, sire. We mustn’t tarry.”
“Roger that, Merlin,” Artie said.
Merlin hesitated. “Before I sign off, do you mind if I ask what you were discussing with Kynder?”
“He said he thinks Mordred isn’t our enemy but our friend!” Kay blurted, unable to contain herself.
Thumb made a choking sound. “Amazing!” Merlin said. He stroked his long sideburns for a moment, considering this news. “Did he say why he thinks this?”
This was an essential question for the wizard. Merlin knew that only a short while ago Kynder had abandoned his keeper stone. He didn’t know why or how this had happened, but he was pretty miffed about it. If Kynder no longer had the stone, then he might have told Artie the secret that Merlin had made him promise not to reveal: that Morgaine was the one who’d made him. If Artie knew that, Merlin was afraid that Artie would begin to question his allegiance to Merlin, especially since Artie was on record as feeling manipulated by the wizard.
That wouldn’t do. If it happened, Merlin’s entire plan would be compromised.
Artie shrugged. “Naw, he wouldn’t say. Just called it a gut feeling.”
Merlin fought an urge to breathe a sigh of relief and said, “Interesting. I don’t know if Kynder is right, but since we now know Mordred holds the Peace Sword, it may not hurt to exercise some restraint next time you see him.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” Artie said.
“All right. Off to Japan, then!” Merlin said. “Once you’re back, we’ll decide on our next move.”
“All right, Merlin. Good luck with the blackout,” Artie said. “Over and out!”
The wizard swiped his finger across the screen and disappeared.
Artie looked at Kay and said, “I guess we should see what this thing has to say about Kusanagi, huh?”
“Yep. I’ll do it,” Kay replied, opening the sword app. “Let’s see. Kusanagi. Really old, originally found in the body of an eight-headed serpent. Went missing for a long time. Some believe it’s in a place called Atsuta Jingu, others think it was lost at sea. Says here it’s actually in a mysterious Otherworld shrine that can only be accessed from a remote Japanese national park called Shiretoko.”
“The Shrine of Horrors,” Thumb interjected matter-of-factly.
“Oh, wonderful,” Kay said. “Is it guarded by some psycho giant too?”
Thumb shrugged. “Unknown, lass. The Shrine of Horrors is a shadowy place. The monocle from Qwon’s house is supposed to help us find the crossover that leads to it.”
Artie nodded and said, “Get some rest, both of you. I’ll tell the others about the plan and we can meet here at three a.m. Be ready.”
23 - IN WHICH ARTIE AND COMPANY VISIT JAPAN
The moongate twirled open in a clearing on a steep mountainside.
The party fanned out. To the east was a sheer thousand-foot drop that ended in the sea. To the west and north were dense woods. Beyond the woods they could make out a few snow-tipped mountains. To the south was a slice of forest far below, dotted with small, tear-shaped lakes. The deciduous trees were just beginning to turn and the air was crisp and clean.
Artie put Thumb, who’d reverted to his small version, on his shoulder. “Let’s go that way, lad,” Thumb said, pointing north to a low break in the trees. When they got there they peeked into the woods, finding a narrow path. At their feet was a rock the size of a basketball, and etched into this rock were some very old-looking Japanese characters. At the base of the rock was a tuft of long black hair.
Artie asked, “Anyone read Japanese?”
“A little,” Thumb said. “That is the character for ‘spirit,’” he continued, pointing with his red cane. “I believe the others say something like ‘turn away,’ or maybe ‘behind you.’”
“Weird,” Kay said.
“Hey, Art, why don’t you use that eyepiece thing?” Erik suggested.
“Duh.” Artie fished in a pocket. He pulled out the monocle and held it to his eye.
The world looked the same. Artie spun in a few circles, squinting through the crystal, waiting for something to happen.
“Everything’s the same.”
“Try tilting it, lad,” Thumb suggested.
Very slowly Artie angled the lens back over his eye. When he got it just right, he stopped and exclaimed, “Oh!”
“What do you see?” Erik asked.
“It’s hard to say. Tom, what is this thing?”
“It doesn’t have a proper name, but its glass allows you to see through to the other side. Tilted just so, you’re looking into the Otherworld. In essence, you can see the spirit world of Japan with that little thing. It has been in the Onakea family for a long, long, long time.”
“Cool,” Artie said. “But we’re still in this world, right?”
“Correct, lad.”
“Wait!” yelled Artie. “I saw something move!”
“What?” Kay asked as Lance nocked an arrow.
“Don’t worry. It was small. Come on, guys. Follow me.”
Artie lowered his spear and ducked into the woods. The rest o
f the knights followed, with Lance bringing up the rear.
Artie and his crew hunched over as they walked through a tunnel of tightly packed trees and saplings. The path led up, and after a hundred feet, the ground became very steep and choked with roots.
The path twisted and turned as they ascended. Artie recognized the trees as they changed from mountain ash to Asian spruce. The group passed an especially old and regal-looking pine tree, its gnarled bark carpeted with lichens, which seemed to mark some kind of boundary.
“Did it just get, like, way colder?” Kay asked, as they came to a stop just past the pine.
“Yeah, it did,” Erik said.
Artie raised and lowered the monocle a few times. “Weird.”
“What is it?” Thumb asked.
“The worlds look . . . exactly the same,” Artie said.
“Hmm,” Thumb murmured. “This world and the Otherworld must be identical in this place. Can you still see whatever it was we were following?”
Artie put the glass to his eye again. “Yeah, it’s right up there.” He pointed at a child-sized rock about twenty feet away.
“It’d be nice if you told us what it is, dude,” Lance said.
“It looks like a fox. And you know what? I think it’s waiting for us.”
“A fox, you say? Do you mind if I have a look, lad?” Thumb asked.
“Not at all, Tommy.” Artie held the monocle in front of Thumb’s face. “You see it?”
“I most certainly do!” Thumb exclaimed. “That’s a kitsune!”
“A what?” asked Erik.
“A spirit. In Japan almost everything—from monsters to chopsticks to toilet stalls—has a spirit associated with it.”
“Is a kitsune a good spirit, Tommy?” Kay asked.
“Yes,” Thumb said simply. “Try calling it to you, lad.”
Artie brought the monocle back to his eye and made a series of clicking noises. The fox’s ears turned toward the noise, then it stood and trotted down the path. To the others it was invisible, but as it got closer Artie saw that it had red eyes and golden hair. It also had several tails.
“Tom, check this out.” Artie shifted the monocle back to Thumb.
The Seven Swords Page 16
