Once In a Blue Moon (31 page)

“We are all going to be very civilised about this. Aren’t we?” he said, loudly and meaningfully. “You are facing legends here, and don’t you forget it.”

Everyone looked at the talking dog, and gave every indication of being very upset. Gillian stabbed an accusing finger at one particular member of the staff, a large and muscular sort in his late forties, in full ceremonial armour. He had a scarred face and a great mane of red hair. Everything about him suggested a powerful and experienced warrior, but he still flinched under Gillian’s gaze.

“Wendover!” said Gillian. “What’s this all about?”

“We heard you were thinking of leaving,” said Wendover, with great dignity and authority. “You must know you can’t do that.”

“Watch me,” said Gillian.

“You can’t just walk out!” said Wendover. “You’re one of the best teachers and trainers we’ve ever had! You have a contract with the Brotherhood!”

“Show it to me,” said Gillian. “So I can rip it up and throw the pieces in your face!”

“She was just the same as a child,” said Fisher, to no one in particular.

Wendover stepped forward out of the crowd and faced Gillian unflinchingly. “You know the deal, Gillian. Once in, never out. You swore to serve the Brotherhood of Steel for life.”

“I swore to serve God forever,” said Jack. “But family comes first. Family . . . matters.”

“Windy,” said Gillian, “what is it, really?”

Jack blinked. “Windy? Really?”

“Shut up, Jack,” said Gillian.

Wendover looked at the ground before him, and then at her. “You can’t just go, Gill. What would I do without you?”

“Silly old thing,” said Gillian affectionately. “I’m not abandoning you. Just taking a short leave of absence.”

“Oh,” said Wendover. “Well, I suppose that’s all right then.”

“No, it isn’t!” said another member of the staff, pushing forward to glare at both Gillian and Wendover. “A contract is a contract! You break your word, and all these young fools will think they can run off too, whenever the going gets rough! You’re not going anywhere. You really think you can stand against all of us?”

He was a tall, bulky fellow in heavy armour, with a flat, flushed face and cold eyes. Just looking at him, you knew he’d never backed down from a fight in his life, and he wasn’t about to start now. Gillian sniffed loudly.

“You always were a horse’s arse, Pendleton. And yes, I do think I can stand against all of you, because I trained all of you! And I am not alone.”

Everyone looked up sharply as a great shadow fell across the entire courtyard, covering everybody. The dragon dropped out of the sky, out of nowhere, and hovered above them all, his great outspread wings barely moving as he hung some ten feet or so over their heads. He shouldn’t have been able to hover like that, thirty feet of very bulky dragon; but he was, after all, a magical creature. With glowing golden eyes and a grinning mouth just jammed full of really impressive teeth. Several young warriors fainted. Others dropped their swords, and a few started crying quietly. Gillian glared at them.

“Stop that! And pick up those swords! I trained you better than this! You’re part of the Brotherhood of Steel, dammit. It’s only a dragon!”

“How about we provide you with maps and provisions,” Wendover said carefully, “so you can get to where you’re going faster, and come back to us sooner?”

“How very sensible,” said Gillian. “That all right with you, Pendleton?”

But Pendleton was standing very still, staring up at the hovering dragon with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. Wendover gave some quick orders to the nearest students, and they rushed back inside the main building. Everyone smiled politely at everyone else, while the dragon continued to hover. Hawk beamed at Fisher.

“Doesn’t it make a wonderful change, to deal with reasonable people?”

“We could have taken them,” said Fisher.

•   •   •

L
ater that night, in another clearing somewhat closer to the Forest Castle, they all sat around a blazing camp-fire, catching up on family life. The dragon had hoped to make the Castle before nightfall, but even though he was feeling fresh and young again, the Forest Land was a lot bigger than he remembered, and he couldn’t be sure of getting there before darkness fell. So he landed in one last clearing, let everyone off, and disappeared into the surrounding woods in search of something slow and stupid. He soon was back, tossing a meaty bone to Chappie and a much larger haunch of meat to the others. After they’d all eaten as much as they could stand, they sat around talking quietly as the last of the light went out of the day. The moon seemed a lot larger in the sky overhead, and the stars shone fiercely in the night, as though they were watching. The dragon lay curled around everyone, putting his huge green body between them and the shadows beyond the firelight.

“Why did you never want to meet your grandchildren?” Jack said finally, after they’d talked through all the safer subjects.

“It seemed for the best,” Hawk said carefully. “We made a decision, your mother and I, after you and Gillian wrote to us saying you had children of your own now. We decided it was better to have no contact at all, with Mercy and Nathanial. For their sake.”

“We thought it advisable to maintain a safe distance,” said Fisher, poking the fire with a stick so she wouldn’t have to look at Jack or Gillian. “To keep from overshadowing their lives. You had it hard enough, when we were just thought of as heroes. By the time Mercy and Nathanial came along, we were myths and legends. We wanted them to have their own lives.”

“I managed,” said Gillian. “And Jack.”

“Did you?” said Hawk. “You went all the way down to Haven, to live the lives we lived. And Jack had to become the Walking Man to make his mark.”

“That’s not why I did it,” said Jack quietly.

“We saw what we did to you,” Hawk said firmly. “And we were determined not to let anything like that happen to our grandchildren.”

“So we stayed away,” said Fisher.

Jack shook his head slowly. “You always were too honourable for your own good.”

“Look who’s talking,” said Gillian.

“And,” said Fisher, “as long as no one knew they were our grandchildren, no one could ever use them as weapons against us. Or vice versa.”

“So,” said Gillian. “All for their own good. Nothing at all to do with you needing to hide your true identities from the world?”

“Oh, that too,” said Hawk. “We’ve always been able to be practical, when we have to. We did try to keep an eye on them, and on you, from a safe distance; but it’s a lot harder to get your hands on reliable magics these days.”

“And that’s why I didn’t hear from you for decades?” said Jack.

“There is such a thing as letters,” said Gillian.

“Letters can be intercepted,” said Fisher.

“We had to turn our backs on our old lives to have new lives,” said Hawk. “Rupert and Julia are part of myth and legend now. Let them stay that way.”

“People would only be upset and disappointed if they met the real thing,” said Fisher.

“I don’t know,” said Gillian. “They’re still talking about Captains Hawk and Fisher, in Haven.”

“It’s not like you needed us,” said Hawk. “You’ve lived . . . successful lives of your own.”

“Children always need their parents,” said Gillian, looking into the fire.

“I don’t suppose you missed me?” said Chappie.

“No,” said Jack.

“Not in the least,” said Gillian.

And then they both laughed, and took it in turns to make a big fuss of him.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive, dog,” said Jack. “You were old when I was just a kid, and now look at you!”

“
Distinguished
is the word you’re looking for,” said Chappie. “I am older than both of you put together, and that’s in dog years. The High Warlock did good work.”

“Jack,” Hawk said carefully, “what happened to your wife, Amelia?”

“She left me,” said Jack. “After I became the Walking Man. I don’t blame her. I was . . . very caught up in myself, for some time there. Afterwards, after I’d given it all up, I did try to find her . . . if only to tell her she’d been right all along. But she’d put a lot of time and effort into disappearing. She didn’t want to be found. So I went to the Abbey of Saint Augustine. A lot of people who knew both of us knew where I was. She could have found me if she’d wanted to. I hope she’s still out there, somewhere. I hope she’s happy.”

“Your daughter might know,” said Fisher.

Jack shrugged. It was his turn to stare into the fire, rather than face his parents. “Mercy might know any number of things. I never asked. I didn’t want her to have to choose which parent to be true to. She was always closer to her mother than I was . . .”

“And Matthew?” said Hawk.

“He died,” said Jack. “Some time back.”

“Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry,” said Fisher.

“I’m not,” said Jack.

“Don’t ask me where or even who Nathanial’s father might be,” Gillian said briskly. “Could have been any one of a dozen men. I never cared enough to find out. I always was generous with my affections.”

Hawk looked at Fisher. “She didn’t get that from me.”

“Don’t start,” said Fisher.

Chappie sniggered.

“So, is it true?” said Gillian, grinning at her mother. “Is it true what they say in some of the songs? That you slept with Uncle Harald before you got together with Dad? That is so . . . icky!”

“See what you’ve started,” Fisher said to Hawk. “It was during the war, Gillian. We were all in a dark place . . . I thought I’d lost your father. Things happen.”

“This is me, changing the subject,” said Jack. “What, exactly, did the Demon Prince say to you about the threat to your grandchildren?”

“He didn’t actually say much,” said Hawk.

“He said our grandchildren would die if your father and I didn’t return to the Forest Land,” said Fisher.

Gillian shuddered suddenly. “The Demon Prince . . . the embodiment of evil in the living world. It’s hard to think of such an awful thing being real . . .”

“I’m not sure that’s the right word to apply to him,” said Hawk. “He’s both more and less than real, as we understand the word. He comes from another dimension, called Reverie, where the Blue Moon shines forever.”

Gillian shuddered again, and not from the cold night.

“You went there, didn’t you?” said Jack. “You left this world, to walk in a whole other reality. What was it like?”

“Strange. Horrible. Magnificent,” said Hawk. “I don’t think we have the right words, or even the concepts, in our language to describe it. Reverie . . . is a world where myths come as standard.”

“And you were there . . . ,” said Jack. “Damn. My parents really were
legends
!”

“We were only ever just people,” Fisher said calmly. “Doing what was needed.”

“You were a legend, Jack,” said Hawk. “As the Walking Man.”

“Not on your scale,” said Jack. “I saved souls. You saved the world. Twice.”

“It’s an overrated thing, being a legend,” said Chappie. “I’ve known more than a few heroes in my time, and most of them were a few shillings short of a pound.”

Gillian turned to look at the dragon, lying on the grass opposite her. “You knew both our parents, back when they were young. What were they really like? Prince Rupert and Princess Julia?”

“Pains in the arse, mostly,” said the dragon. “And brave, and honourable. Throwing themselves against evil because there was no one else, and because they would not turn away. They shone so very brightly in the dark . . . I always felt honoured, that they made me part of their adventure. Even if they did drag me out of my nice comfortable cave and away from my collection of butterflies.”

“I remember . . . ,” said Fisher. “You were there with us, at the end. Facing the Demon Prince in his place of power, the darkest part of the Darkwood. He struck you down, and would have beaten you to death . . . I still remember him kicking you in the face, and your golden blood falling . . . I never felt so ashamed in my life, for leading you into that.”

“Hush, Julia,” said the dragon. “You never asked me to do anything I wasn’t willing to do.” He paused. “What did happen to my butterfly collection?”

“Locked away in the vaults of the Millennium Oak,” said Hawk. “Still in the same display cases you made for them.”

“Hold it,” said Jack. “He’s not kidding? Butterflies? He collected butterflies, not gold?”

The dragon lifted his great head a few feet off the ground to stare at Jack.
“They’re just as pretty, aren’t they?”

“Try not to upset the thirty-foot dragon, son,” said Hawk. “He’s a bit . . . sensitive about some things.”

“Yeah,” said Chappie. “Don’t upset him. Or he might tell you what kind of meat you’ve been eating tonight.”

They all looked at one another, and then at what little remained of the haunch of meat the dragon had provided for their supper. They didn’t say anything. The dragon lowered his head to the grass again. Chappie sniggered.

“I still don’t see why the Demon Prince chose right now to interfere in our world again,” said Jack. “Has anything . . . significant, happened recently? It’s easy to get out of touch when you’re living the secluded life in a monastery.”

“There are rumours of war,” said Gillian. “And I mean real rumours of actual armed conflict, between the Forest Land and the Kingdom of Redhart. Recruitment at the Sorting Houses has been going through the roof in the last few years. Young men and women desperate to train as warriors, just to be ready for when it all kicks off. But I would have said the chances of war were actually lower now, with a Peace agreement on the table and an arranged Royal marriage in the cards, between Prince Richard of the Forest and Princess Catherine of Redhart.”

Hawk brightened up immediately. “Our great-great-nephew is getting married! We have to be there for the ceremony!”

“Who as?” said Fisher. “They won’t let us in as Hawk and Fisher, but we can’t show up at the Forest Court as Rupert and Julia. That could throw the whole line of succession into disarray.”

“There can’t be anyone left alive who’d recognise us as Rupert and Julia,” said Hawk. “Not after all these years. So, we turn up as the Hawk and Fisher currently in charge of the Hero Academy! They’d be bound to let them in. The Confusulum will keep anyone from asking too many questions.”