A Tail of Camelot (12 page)

S
trong gusts of wind whipped up around them. Calib and Cecily clutched each other's tails to avoid getting blown away. They balanced precariously on top of the slippery stone walls while Gaius rapped his beak on the window of St. Gertrude's tallest turret.

“Thaddeus,” the owl said. “We have visitors from Camelot who seek your counsel.”

There was silence at first, but then a voice, as creaky as a worn-out rocking chair, came from inside: “Enter.”

A wizened old barn owl nested in the shadows of the
small tower. His white, heart-shaped face turned toward them. Milky cataracts filled the owl's shiny black eyes like constellations.

Calib held back a gasp, for the owl wore a strange-looking necklace, a dagger-shaped crystal on a chain. It glittered against his feathers like a fallen star. Carved from the clearest diamond, it was about the length of Calib's arm—Merlin's Crystal.

Awe buoyed Calib's hopes. Here was one of the last magical treasures left in the land. Perhaps it could save them yet.

“I am Thaddeus of the Fellwater Swamps.” The barn owl introduced himself, bowing with his wings outspread. From wingtip to wingtip, they stretched the length of the room.

“Cecily von Mandrake,” Cecily said, dipping into a curtsy.

“A-and I'm Calib Christopher,” Calib croaked, his eyes still entranced by the crystal.

“Well met, groundlings.”

General Gaius strutted forward. “The fur-beasts say that Commander Yvers has been murdered by an assassin,” he said.

Thaddeus bowed his large head. “So it is as I feared, then. A great evil has come upon Camelot.”

“Then you know who is responsible for my grandfather's
murder?” Calib's pulse quickened beneath his fur.

“Not by name,” the barn owl replied, and Calib felt a heavy wave of disappointment. “My Sight grows dimmer year by year.”

“You're a Seer?” Cecily asked in wonder. Seers were animals who, though physically blind, could predict the future.

“Old Magic isn't what it once was, and our foe is powerful,” Thaddeus said. “The future is clouded, but I know one thing: though this is a new threat, this is not a new enemy.”

Calib felt the fur along his neck rise up strand by strand, and the tip of his tail twitched.

“There is more,” Thaddeus added with a creak in his voice. “I've foreseen the downfall of Camelot.”

“But there must be some way to stop it!” Cecily cried.

“The Sight is never wrong, fur-beast,” General Gaius said, and Calib thought he heard a new emotion in the owl's voice: pity. “What Thaddeus Sees always comes to be.”

“You are forgetting, General,” Thaddeus said. His sightless eyes turned toward Calib. “Once, the action of a single mouse changed the tide of a vision.”

A shiver raced up Calib's spine. Could Thaddeus be talking about his father?

“Camelot believes that the Darklings are behind
Commander Yvers's death,” Calib said, hoping his voice was steady. “And we have declared war on them. But if the Darklings did not kill my grandfather, then we are fighting the wrong enemy.”

Calib took a deep breath. His next words came out in a rush.

“Please, if you could lend us Merlin's Crystal and take us to Leftie's lair in the Slate Rocks, we might be able to reason with the Darklings before Camelot gets there, and then together turn our attention on our
true
enemy!”

“The Darklings!” General Gaius hunched his wings and let out an angry screech. “I will eat my own feathers before I help that sorry lot! The Darklings are the reason why we fled the Fellwater Swamps in the first place.”

“What do you mean?” Calib asked, his stomach sinking.

“Leftie grew desperate and attacked us,” Thaddeus said. “He believed that the crystal would help him defend the woods from whatever has been stealing their food.”

“And why should we lend Merlin's Crystal to them when they couldn't keep their own treasure safe?” Gaius interjected, referring to the mirror that the Darklings had lost years ago.

“But the Darklings are
starving
,” Cecily interjected. “We met a Darkling crow, and she was as skinny as a reed. How can you do nothing while other creatures suffer?”

Thaddeus shook his head sadly. “You don't understand. When Merlin left us owls in charge of his crystal, he gave us a riddle to accompany it. Only the creature who correctly answers it may use the crystal. Leftie has tried to solve the riddle many times and has always failed. The last time that happened, he tried to take the crystal by force instead.”

“Then let us try the riddle,” Cecily asked, crossing her arms. Calib swallowed hard and hoped Cecily knew what she was doing.

Thaddeus considered this for a moment before nodding once.

“Very well,” he said, and cleared his throat. “The riddle: ‘I grow strong when the strong grow weak. I blind more than the darkest night or the brightest sun. When the brave lack me, they are fools. When fools gain me, they are wise. What am I?'”

Cecily began pacing the turret, mumbling to herself as Calib twisted his paws.

“Does this have anything to do with training exercises?” Cecily asked.

“Waste of our time,” General Gaius scoffed. “Let us feed them to the owlets already.”

“Patience, Gaius.” Thaddeus's blind eyes seemed to stare at Calib.

Calib closed his eyes so that he could focus better.
Grandfather Yvers had loved puzzles and riddles, but Calib didn't seem to have inherited his grandfather's gift for them. From the stories he shared with Calib in the tapestry hall before the tournament, it seemed Calib had only inherited Yvers's knack for trouble.

“Wait a whisker . . . ,” Calib piped up. Commander Yvers had told Calib something else that morning, too.
Being brave is not about lacking fear.

“The answer is fear!” Calib burst out. General Gaius blinked quickly while Cecily frowned.

“Listen,” Calib said hurriedly. “Fear grows strong when the strong grow weak. It blinds more than sunlight or darkness. When the brave lack fear, they are fools! When fools learn to fear, they are wise!”

General Gaius and Thaddeus looked at each other. Cecily let out a big whoop.

“He's right! Calib's right! It fits!”

“You are correct,” Thaddeus said, a smile playing at the corner of his beak. “Merlin's Crystal is yours to use as you see fit, Calib Christopher.”

Gaius's eyes looked like they might pop out of his gigantic head. “You're going to give one of Merlin's greatest treasures to two fur-beasts barely out of their nursing days? They can barely lift it between the two of them!”

“And that's why you shall accompany them, Gaius
Thornfeather.” Thaddeus turned to face Gaius. “You will carry the crystal for them while it serves Calib's purpose, and then fly them to Leftie's lair.”

General Gaius's ear tufts rose in irritation.

“And what if I refuse?” General Gaius asked, narrowing his eyes. “What happens to Camelot or the Darklings is none of our concern. We look after our own.”

“You helped my father in Camelot's greatest hour of need once, at the Battle at Rickonback River,” Calib said. He felt young again, like a small mousling asking for just one more piece of rhubarb pie or one more tale about Sir Samuel Snaggletooth before bed. “I only ask that you heed that call again, in Sir Trenton's name!”

“So, now you want to warn your father's enemy of Camelot's attack?” Gaius asked skeptically. He had puffed his feathers so that he was now twice his usual size.

“I want to do what's right,” Calib answered. “It's what my father would have wanted. The Darklings are innocent!”

“Whatever is out there stealing from the Darklings probably killed Commander Yvers,” Cecily added. “If it is not stopped now, what's to stop it from coming after you?”

“They are right,” Thaddeus said. “The mousling has answered the riddle correctly. We must abide by Merlin's wishes. This is the course of fate, Gaius. You would be
foolish to fly against such winds.”

Gaius rapped his talons on the ground as he considered everyone's points. Though Calib wanted to look away, he forced himself to stare into the owl's domineering eyes. He didn't know what he would do if Gaius didn't agree.

“I will take you to Leftie's lair in the foothills of the Iron Mountains, and I will carry the crystal for you,” the owl said finally. “But take heed, Calib Christopher. You will owe the owls a favor. A
big
one. And when the time comes for us to collect, you may wish you had not agreed.”

S
ettled securely in a small basket dangling from General Gaius's talons, Calib and Cecily watched the nest shrink away into a small brown dot on top of a snow-covered stone wall. Before them, the wider forest opened like an immense, sugar-frosted dessert.

Calib's fear melted away to wonder. He had known the world was vast from studying the library's many maps, but seeing it all spread out beneath him was something else entirely. As Gaius lifted them higher and higher above the trees, Calib could make out the mountains in the faraway
distance. The formations rose up over the horizon like a tidal wave of stone. Somewhere far, far below them were the Slate Rocks, Leftie's chosen home. Beside Calib, Cecily clutched the side of the basket tightly and squeezed her eyes shut.

“The Iron Mountains,” Calib whispered. The gray-colored mountain range marked the farthest edge of their land. No mouse had ever crossed those ridges and come back to tell the tale.

“Aye,” the general said in his clipped voice. “The known woodland realm ends there.”

Taking a deep breath, Calib called up to the bird. “Did you ever know my father personally?” he asked quickly, before his courage left him.

“I was a lieutenant the day Sir Trenton met with General Thaddeus,” he said as his large wings caught an extra gust of wind.

“What was he like?” Calib pressed.

“He was as stupid as you were this afternoon,” General Gaius said over the noise of the wind. “But Merlin won us over to his cause. In the end, your father sacrificed much to protect those he cared for most. And for that, we remember him as a hero.”

Pride swelled in Calib's heart. “Thank you,” he whispered.

As the owl continued his flight toward the mountains, Calib marveled at Merlin's Crystal. It dangled from Gaius's
neck, just out of reach. The light from the setting sun made the crystal glow a fiery red. It almost looked like an ember against Gaius's feathered breast.

Lulled by the crystal's dancing light, Calib found himself nodding off. He hadn't had much sleep the previous night, and the wicker basket rocked gently in the wind.

In his half dreams, he stood before his parents' tapestry. Sir Trenton was holding out Merlin's Crystal to him. If only he could reach out and take it. Calib grasped the one end of the crystal but could not pull it free. It was stuck half in the tapestry, half out. The earth began to tremble from underneath him, just like it had the day that Galahad arrived.

Calib woke and realized it was Cecily shaking him gently awake.

“We're almost there,” she said.

“How long was I asleep?” Calib asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Not long,” Cecily said, but Calib could tell she was lying. She hesitated. “You were mumbling in your sleep.”

He scrubbed a paw in his eyes, trying to get the sleep out.

The general swooped below the tree line, expertly avoiding the branches as he brought them to the banks of a river. He gently lowered the basket to the ground. Cecily wobbled out unsteadily, looking relieved.

“Are we getting close to Leftie's lair?” Calib squinted
into the twilight as he too hopped out of the basket.

“We're at the farthest edge of the Darkling Woods,” General Gaius said. “But now it's getting dark, and even the owls don't dare approach the Darkling lair before daybreak. We will make camp and wait until morning.”

“But what about the Camelot army?” Cecily asked. “The mice left Camelot hours ago!”

Gaius chuckled. “The slowest owl flies twice as fast as the speediest Camelot mouse. It will take your army a full day's march to get to Leftie.” Gaius swiveled his head around to survey the area. “We make camp here, and quietly. We're in Berwin Featherbane's territory now.”

“Berwin the Beastly is still alive?” Calib asked, taken aback. All the mice of Camelot had heard the stories. Berwin was once one of King Lot's fighting bears, trained by Two-Leggers to battle other animals for entertainment. He'd earned many scars on his body but never lost a fight. When King Arthur defeated Lot and heard about Berwin, he commanded that the bear be freed.

But Berwin did not forgive easily.

The bear began to terrorize the surrounding lands—stealing sheep and killing every creature at will. He was finally driven across Rickonback River to live his days in isolation. He was the kind of villain the nursemaids used to scare mouslings into following the rules.
Go to sleep, or Berwin the Beastly will gobble you whole.

“Berwin's den is just down this river,” General Gaius said. “Leftie chose to make the Slate Rocks the Darkling headquarters
precisely
because they're close to Berwin. Even though the bear is a danger to the Darklings, he's also a danger to everyone else, so he keeps intruders at bay. Military genius,” the owl said. Calib thought he could detect a hint of admiration for the lynx's tactics. “Be on your guard.”

The owl ducked his head, and with his beak unclipped a small mouse-sized rapier from his sash. He offered it to Cecily. “Here's your weapon back.”

“Thank you,” she said, retrieving it from his beak with a nervous smile. “I'm sorry I nearly took out your eye earlier.”

“You'll need those lightning reflexes if you want to survive these woods,” Gaius said. “Now, promise to stay hidden until I come back for you.”

Calib gulped. “You're
leaving
?”

“I've flown for hours, and I'm hungry,” the general said. “I must go and hunt for my dinner, and I may count on many more long hours before I find anything to eat. Food has been . . . hiding . . . the last few days.”

A queasy feeling blossomed in Calib's gut. “You mean . . . hunt for nuts and berries?”

General Gaius snapped his beak in amusement. “Something like that,” the owl said. “I'll be back before dawn.”

“And what about Merlin's Crystal?” Cecily said. “How do we know you're not just abandoning us to Berwin?”

“Guess you'll just have to trust me.” Gaius smirked and then took off silently into the darkening sky. It was a deep dusk, a kind of twilight that made the trees blend into a continuous tangle of snowy brambles.

“Wait! Come back!” Calib shouted, watching Gaius fly out of sight. His breath came out in small white puffs. The dangers of their predicament swiftly became apparent. They had just been abandoned in unfamiliar woods on a cold winter's night, and there was no crystal to distract Leftie with if the Darkling scouts
did
show up.

“It's not like we have any choice but to trust him,” Cecily said, letting out a long sigh. “Did you bring any camping gear? Blankets? Any food?”

“No,” he admitted, feeling wholly underprepared. His stomach growled noisily, as if in response. It had been hours since the council meeting that morning. He thought about how angry Madame von Mandrake would be when she discovered that they were missing from supper. Only Macie's scouts were ever excused from dinner for patrol duties.

“Macie!” Calib exclaimed suddenly, causing Cecily to jump. “Why didn't I think of that before? Macie's scouts bury their food supplies throughout these woods! They mark the hiding places with a special sign, like this.” He
scratched a small arrow symbol in the frozen dirt.

Cecily puffed out her cheeks. “Well, that's something, at least. Come on!”

They set off along the riverbank, looking for shelter and listening to the endless murmur of water. Occasionally, thin sheets of ice floated by on the river. Calib wondered if Valentina had made it back to her clan yet.

“Thank you for coming after me,” Cecily said. Her paws crunched in the frost. “I know I should have waited, but I was afraid of missing out on the action.”

“It's all right. I'm just glad I made it in time,” Calib said. A warmth spread through him that was at odds with the chill in the air. “You were brave to go out on your own.”

She flashed him a quick smile, and then they lapsed into a comfortable silence.

He and Cecily wandered farther away from the river, examining each tree. Finally, just before the last of the sun was extinguished, they spotted a stand of birch trees, one of them scored with Macie's special sign.

They began digging furiously, arcs of dirt flying out behind them. Cecily jumped back and pulled out a dirty knapsack from the hole she had dug. “Wow, Macie buries these things deep!”

“Please say she packed dried cherries,” Calib said with a hungry groan.

Cecily's eyes were wide when she peered up at him. “It's empty.”

Calib's fur raised, and a smell came to his nose—something foreign. Something large. “Someone else has been here,” he whispered.

“Well,” Cecily said, dumping the empty bag back into the hole. “I hope you have another brilliant plan baking in your brain, because I'm fresh out.”

“Working on it,” Calib said, chewing on his whiskers. As he circled to the other side of the tree, the musky odor grew stronger.

“Cecily, come over here and take a whiff of this,” he said.

“Blech, Calib, that's not funny,” Cecily said as she came around the tree. Her snout wrinkled in disgust. “If you're just going to break wind all night—”

“It wasn't me,” Calib protested. “Try again.”

Cecily took another sniff, this time concentrating harder on the garlicky odor. “It smells like, like . . .”

“Weasel musk,” they whispered together.

In their early days of training, Sir Owen had taught them all to recognize the scents of various animals, especially the ones who had a taste for mice. Once they became squires, he said, they would have to rely on their noses to determine who was friend or foe.

Weasels were definitely the latter.