The Silver Tower

by TJ Green

  Nimue sighed. “How careless of me. Was I not clear? What I should have said was that the spell to protect the Realm of Air had been completed, but was only temporary. It is now broken.” She stood as if deep in thought. “In fact it probably finished at dawn. How long do you think it would take dragons to get here?”

  As the full implications of her news sank in, she added, almost apologetically, “I did tell Adalyn that I really needed more time.”

  Adalyn glared at Nimue, but Tom felt a little bubble of hope starting to form inside him. And then there was a sound that chilled his blood – the far-off roar of dragons. Adalyn nodded to the guards standing behind them. All but two ran to the edge of the terrace and dived over, their wings spreading majestically before they dropped from sight. The other sylphs in the crowd rose restlessly, trying to see beyond the terrace, while the harpies cried out raucously for the blood of Tom, Woodsmoke and Arthur.

  Galen looked furious. “I demand you complete the spell at once.”

  “I don’t think so,” Nimue said, her voice carrying clearly across the terrace, despite the increasing noise. “The Realm of Air can burn for all I care.”

  “You will complete the spell or we will bring your other friends here as well.”

  Her eyes bright were with malice. “No you won’t. You’ll find you cannot enter Dragon’s Hollow at the moment. So what will you threaten to do now? You have already sentenced my friends to death.”

  “What do you mean, we cannot enter Dragon’s Hollow?” Galen asked, incensed.

  “I mean that once we left the city, I set a spell to prevent you entering it. Do you think I’m stupid?” Nimue asked, clearly enjoying herself.

  Galen stood silent, the other sylphs sitting helplessly by his side as Adalyn strode over to Nimue and put the long blade of her sword to Nimue’s throat. “Fix this now,” Adalyn said, almost spitting in her face.

  “No. If you kill me everything will fall. I’ll tell you what I’m prepared to do. Please remove your sword.”

  Adalyn glanced at Galen, and at his nod reluctantly withdrew her sword.

  Tom’s heart pounded as he heard the dragons coming closer. The terraces were emptying as sylphs dived over the edge, spears extended, to join the fight.

  “What?” yelled Galen, frustrated at Nimue’s endless calm.

  “You will release Arthur, Tom and Woodsmoke, and drop all charges against them. You will escort us from here to Dragon’s Hollow. Or,” she smirked, “as close as you can get. In exchange I will extend my protection to the Realm of Air.”

  She turned to the fey from the City Council. “I have decided I would like to stay in Dragon’s Hollow. It will be my pleasure to live at the House of the Beloved and protect the city. If it pleases you?” she asked graciously. “Of course, I would like my friends to be able to visit me as often as they wish.”

  As Nimue finished speaking, a large red and black dragon soared up from below the terrace and released a stream of fire above their heads, before sylphs attacked it from all angles, drawing it out beyond the city. Tom watched as the bright white bodies of the sylphs turned and dived in the air, their spears flashing in the sun as the dragon whipped around, almost impervious to their attempts to wound it.

  The fey paled and stuttered. “Y-You’re welcome to live at Dragon’s Hollow as long as you wish.”

  “Excellent. So, should we be going?” Nimue turned to smile at Adalyn. “Remember, I need to be in the Hollow to complete the spell.”

  Tom stood, stunned at the turn the morning had taken. Merlin gazed at Nimue, unable to hide the admiration and pride he felt, and Tom couldn’t blame him. No wonder he’d been infatuated.

  Adalyn looked to Galen for advice. He had fled from the table and now towered over Nimue, fury in his eyes and a dangerous tone to his voice. “You will never be welcome here again.”

  “Fortunately, I am far more understanding. I look forward to seeing you in Dragon’s Hollow.”

  Galen turned to Tom, Woodsmoke and Arthur, glaring at each of them, and Tom had never felt more hated in his life. “Your sentences are reduced to banishment.”

  Tom felt his knees weaken with the relief of it all, but stood his ground next to Woodsmoke and Arthur, as if he’d never doubted the outcome in the first place.

  Merlin interrupted. “I’m going with them, Galen. I really don’t feel welcome here any more.” He looked around at the view, and a shadow of regret crossed his face. “I’ll send for my things later.”

  “As you wish,” Galen said, making no attempt to dissuade him. To Adalyn he said, “Take them now.”

  As he finished speaking, more dragons burst into view, breathing long plumes of flames and pursued by sylphs. One, the colour of sulphurous yellow, flew low across the terrace, its claws extended, heading for the weapons on the table. Propelled into action, Tom, Arthur and Woodsmoke ran to grab their weapons, dodging and weaving amongst the flashing spears, flames and talons. Tom felt the searing heat of the flames pass over his head, and instinctively dropped and rolled. Regaining his feet, he grabbed Galatine and Arthur’s shield before taking cover under the stone table. Looking out, all he could see were running feet and flames, and he heard roars as more dragons flew low over the terrace. Woodsmoke rolled next to him, preparing his bow, and Arthur joined him on his other side.

  “I hope you’re not planning to sit here all day?” Arthur shouted over the din.

  “Of course not!” Tom said, wishing he could.

  The thump of large clawed feet made them turn towards the far end of the table, where a dragon was trying his best to peer underneath. There was an enormous shudder as the heavy table started to move, and flames licked around them.

  “Now!” shouted Woodsmoke, and before Tom could think they ran headlong towards the palace doors and temporary safety.

  As Tom entered the broad echoing room behind the terrace, he almost collided with Nimue, who stood looking up at Merlin. They were both subdued, as if a full-scale battle wasn’t going on outside at all.

  “We could intervene now, drive back the dragons a little,” Merlin said.

  “No, they deserve this,” Nimue replied, looking out with satisfaction on the results of her work. “I want them to remember this day, Merlin.”

  31 Decisions and Deal Making

  Nimue again subdued Excalibur’s call, and half a dozen seething sylphs bundled them into the large cage and carried them down to the Sky Meadows.

  The descent beneath the city was hazardous, and they were lucky the dragons were fully occupied high above them. Tom, Arthur and Merlin were deposited next to their horses, and with Merlin riding behind Arthur, they set off on the long ride back down the mountain. The sylphs took Nimue as far down the ridge as they were able so she arrived in the city quicker. From a distance she looked like a bird in a gilded cage.

  Fortunately, they didn’t encounter any dragons, and those they saw flew high overhead, as if drawn to the Realm of Air. Tom wondered if Nimue had cast some sort of spell that kept them attacking the sylphs. Every now and then he looked back to the city high above, and saw flashes of flame and glinting light and the swirl of sylphs. He tried to feel sorry for them, but couldn’t. Even now, the thought of being sentenced to death seemed like a nightmare, and he kept wondering if, once the spell was resurrected, they would come back for him.

  Woodsmoke tried to reassure him. “It’s over, Tom. We have their word. And besides, Nimue would drop the spell like a thunderbolt if they ever threatened us again. They have too much to lose.”

  “What do you think about Nimue?” Tom asked, knowing Woodsmoke had been suspicious of her.

  “There’s a lot more to Nimue than meets the eye,” he said, and then smiled at him. “I think she’s too old for you, Tom!”

  Tom felt himself blushing, and laughed. “I know! But I can look, can’t I?”

  “As long as that’s all it is!” Woodsmoke said, teasing him. “I think she’d turn you into a toad if you tried anything.”
>
  The courtyard of Raghnall’s House was dark when they arrived, the only light coming from a lantern that burned with a small golden flame over the door to the stables. Tom slipped off his horse, bone weary, his eyes struggling to stay open, but the sudden change of scene and the unsaddling of the horses woke him up again.

  Merlin looked stiff as he dismounted. “So this is Raghnall’s place?”

  “Was,” reminded Arthur. “I thought you’d met him.”

  “I did, but only in the city; I never came here.” He looked around, his sharp eyes assessing everything. “He did quite well for himself, didn’t he?”

  “Wait till you see inside,” Tom said, thinking longingly of his bed and hot bath.

  Although they tried to be quiet, the clatter of hooves must have reached into the house, because it wasn’t long before the back door flew open and Beansprout appeared, exclaiming, “Could you be any louder?”

  “Thanks, Beansprout. Nice to see you too, after my brush with death,” Tom said.

  She strolled over to them, leaning on the open stable door. Her hair was loose, and she was wearing a long floaty dress he’d never seen before.

  “What are you wearing?” Tom asked.

  “It’s called a dress, Tom. You know, not trousers.”

  “Ha, so funny. But why?”

  “I think,” Woodsmoke said, interrupting, “it’s called the Nimue effect.”

  “Nice to see you too, Woodsmoke,” she said, and poked out her tongue.

  Arthur hugged her tightly. “I’m glad you’re safe. You’re becoming quite the warrior maiden.”

  She looked embarrassed. “Not really, Arthur! I just helped Nimue and Brenna.”

  “You stayed when you could have run,” he told her. “That’s very brave.”

  “Yes it is. A quality not to be underestimated,” Merlin said, stepping out of the shadows, and rather than shake her extended hand, he kissed it. “My pleasure, my lady. Merlin, at your service.”

  “Beansprout, at yours,” she said, her eyes sweeping over him. “I’ve come to show you to your room.”

  A look of concern crossed Merlin’s face. “Are you sure I can stay here?”

  “Of course. She told you so, didn’t she?” Beansprout asked.

  Tom recalled the brief conversation Nimue had had earlier with Merlin. It had been awkward. Nimue had been defiantly polite, as if she hadn’t trapped him in a spell hundreds of years earlier, and Merlin had seemed almost meek and apologetic, as if he was responsible for everything in the first place.

  “Well, yes,” Merlin said hesitantly. “But I’m quite prepared to stay in a hotel.”

  “There’s no need. She won’t hear of it,” Beansprout reassured him.

  Arthur interrupted, frowning at Merlin. “Are you sure you want to stay here?”

  “I am very tired, so just for tonight. I’ll find somewhere else tomorrow. In the meantime,” he said to Beansprout, “can I help to complete the spell to protect the Realm of Air?”

  “It’s done. Finally,” Beansprout told them. Tom knew Beansprout wouldn’t openly criticise Nimue, but she did look concerned. “Nimue didn’t want to rush.”

  “She has a stubborn streak,” Merlin said. “You’ll get used to that.”

  The next morning, Tom woke to pale bands of sunshine streaking in round the edges of the heavy silk curtains. He was back in his old room, as he now thought of it.

  Sitting up, he looked hopefully to where he’d left his clothes strewn across the floor, but they were still there, wrinkled and dirty. He flopped back on his pillows, huffing with disappointment. Then his stomach rumbled and he realised he was starving, so after dressing he made his way downstairs to the main balcony, where they had always eaten, but that too was empty. Wondering if he was completely alone, he shouted, “Hello? Anybody here?”

  Silence.

  Tom headed down the long corridor to the back of the house. This was where he’d been attacked. He was relieved to see the body of the servant had been removed, the place they’d fought marked only by a small patch of dried blood.

  He carried on down to the cavernous kitchen, and that’s where he found everyone. Arthur was standing over a flaming grill, cooking sausages, bacon and eggs, assisted by Merlin, who wore a long apron wrapped around his long flowing clothes. A slight odour of burning drifted around the room.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Brenna asked, amused. She sat at a long wooden table, cradling a cup in her right hand, her chin on her left as she watched the activity across the room. Her long dark hair was bound at the nape of her neck, making the feathers that edged her hairline more obvious.

  “Of course I do,” Arthur said cheerily. “A little bit of burnt bacon makes it taste better.”

  Beansprout sat next to Nimue, and they were talking quietly. She gave Tom a guilty look as he sat down opposite them. Tom sensed a plan. “What’s up, Beansprout?”

  “Nothing,” she said, wide-eyed with feigned surprise. “We’re just discussing my future.”

  They gazed at him placidly across the table, and he felt his heart sink a little. “You’re staying here, aren’t you?”

  After a second’s hesitation, Beansprout nodded. “Nimue said she will teach me magic.” She rushed on, “Don’t look like that! Please be happy for me, Tom.”

  He sat not knowing what to say, and not even sure what he thought. He turned to Woodsmoke who had sat down next to him with a steaming cup of coffee. “What do you think?”

  “I think Beansprout will be just fine,” he said, looking at her a little sadly. “But we’ll miss her at Vanishing Hall.”

  She met Woodsmoke’s gaze and then looked quickly at the table, blinking back tears. “I won’t be here forever, I’ll come and visit.”

  “You’d better. What about you, Tom? Are you coming back with me?”

  They were interrupted by Arthur and Merlin placing steaming plates of food in front of them.

  “I thought you were coming with me to New Camelot?” Arthur said, looking between them.

  Now Woodsmoke sighed and looked at the table.

  “New Camelot?” Tom asked, confused. “Where’s that?”

  “Ceridwen’s old castle, of course,” Arthur said, through a mouthful of bacon. “Merlin’s coming too. We’re going to clean the place up, find some servants. What do you think?” he asked, looking excited.

  Tom felt his heart sink even more. Everyone was splitting up. He turned to Brenna. “Are you going back to Aeriken?”

  She nodded. “I’ll spend a few days at Vanishing Hall, and then I’ll go.” She looked at her friends around the table. “I have some decisions to make.”

  Tom must have looked a little lost, because Woodsmoke said, “You’re welcome to stay with me, you know that. And of course Jack and Fahey will want to see you. But you don’t have to make your mind up now.”

  Tom had that sense of doubt again. Doubt about what he was going to do with himself and his life. Everyone seemed to have a purpose, except him.

  And then he realised what he did want to do.

  “You’re right, Woodsmoke, I need to see granddad; I’ve missed him,” he said. “I’ll come with you, spend some time with him, and then,” he looked at Arthur’s expectant face and laughed. “And then I’ll come and live with you for a while, Arthur.”

  “Good choice, Tom.” Woodsmoke grinned, and slapped him across the shoulder so hard it made Tom wince. “Anyway, we’d better eat up and get dressed. We have a funeral to go to.”

  “Whose?” Tom asked, confused again.

  “Raghnall’s, of course. His servant was buried yesterday.”

  “But surely we’re not welcome.” Tom looked around the table, wondering what he’d missed, and whether they might be arrested again.

  Nimue had been quiet, but now she finally spoke. “We have made a deal with the Council. In order that you are always welcome here, that I can live here, and that Raghnall’s memory is preserved, we have manufactured a l
ie. Raghnall and his servant got into a fight and killed each other. We found their dead bodies and raced to protect the city from dragons. I have agreed to stay and defend the city. Magen, partly because he hated his father, and partly because he doesn’t want a long bloody war with dragons, is supporting the lie and has agreed to let me stay. So now we go to the funeral and mourn Raghnall with the rest of city.”

  It was a week later, and the city had almost returned to normal. The streets had been cleared of the rich purple banners hung in honour of Raghnall. The debris left after the dragon attacks had also been cleared, and only the blackened parts of the damaged buildings remained as evidence. The town was working quickly to repair and replace the missing gilding and jewels.

  Tom, Arthur, Merlin, Brenna and Woodsmoke wound their way through the city to the tunnel and the gate. They had said their goodbyes to Nimue and Beansprout at the House of the Beloved, and although Tom was sad to leave Beansprout, she had looked so happy he had to feel pleased for her.

  In the end, Merlin had stayed with them at Nimue’s. Nimue had refused to hear of him leaving, which Tom thought was weird. He couldn’t quite get his head round the nature of their relationship. She had imprisoned him in a spell which had killed him, and yet seemed sorry for it, and Merlin didn’t seem to want to revenge. It was all inexplicable. When he voiced his confusion to Woodsmoke, all he said was, “Old friends do strange things, Tom. Life’s like that sometimes. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  They travelled down the long dark tunnel, leaving Dragon’s Hollow behind them, and passed through the rose-gold gate into the bright hot sunshine of the mountainside. They stood for a few seconds, dazzled and blinking, and then looked down the mountain to where the road led to the moors and streams and then the Cervini, in a rolling tide of green. Beyond them, Tom imagined the plains and Holloways and woods stretching out all the way to Aeriken, and then to the lake and Avalon. He had travelled a long way.

  Arthur shouted, jolting him back into the present, and he found he was sitting alone, the others disappearing down the path ahead. Arthur turned back to look at him. “Come on Tom, new beginnings call!”