Once In a Blue Moon (32 page)

“Is that thing still with us?” said Fisher.

“Who can say?” said Hawk.

“Excuse me,” said Jack, “but what the hell is the Confusulum? I thought I had a good grounding in strange and exotic magical devices, but . . .”

“Just something we picked up on our travels,” said Fisher. “It exists to confuse the issue. Any issue. Including what it is.”

“Might be a device, might be alive. Might be something beyond our limited human comprehension,” said Hawk. “We’ve always got on fine.”

“Can I see it?” said Jack.

“If it wanted you to see it, you’d be seeing it,” said Fisher.

“I think it’s just shy around strangers sometimes,” said Hawk.

“You always were weird, even when we were kids,” said Gillian.

“I always sort of liked that,” said Jack.

“I am not going to the Forest Castle as anyone but myself,” Gillian said firmly. “I’ve got nothing to hide. I’m proud of my reputation. Even if it does make some people wet themselves.”

“Same here,” said Jack. “We’d be expected to turn up anyway, as relatives of the groom. I suppose we’d better get some presents . . .”

“Did you get an invitation?” said Gillian. “No, neither did I. Funny, that. I say we go, just to embarrass them.”

“Hear, hear!” said Chappie. “Always lots of good food and drink at a wedding! I love cake.”

“If what we saw genuinely was the Demon Prince,” Hawk said heavily. “And not just some sorcerer messing with our heads, for their own purposes. If it really is him, we’re going to need the old weapons. The Rainbow Sword is still in the Castle Armoury.”

“Hold it,” said Jack. “That’s real? I thought it was just a metaphor!”

“Grow up, Jack,” said Gillian.

“The Rainbow is real too,” said Fisher. “And if we need more weapons, the three missing Infernal Devices should still be hidden inside the no-longer-Inverted Cathedral. We’d better check to see that they’re still there.”

“There are three more Infernal Devices?” said Gillian. “Three more of those cursed powerful swords? That’s not in any of the songs or stories.”

“Hardly surprising,” said Jack. He looked thoughtfully at his parents. “Is there anything else we should be concerned about?”

“They never did find the Jewel of Compulsion that used to be set in the hilt of the sword Curtana,” said Hawk. “Before the Demon Prince destroyed the sword, at the end. The Crimson Pursuant could confuse any mind, bend any will, control anyone . . . and it could still be out there, somewhere . . .”

“You are really freaking me out now,” said Gillian.

“The past is never really over,” said Jack. “And bad things just keep turning up again, over and over.”

“You had to spend twenty years in seclusion in a monastery to work that out?” said Gillian.

“Play nicely, children,” said Fisher.

“Or there’ll be no desserts,” said Hawk.

“Desserts?” Chappie’s head came up. “There’s dessert? Somebody definitely mentioned dessert!”

“When we get to the Castle,” said Jack, ignoring Chappie, “is there anyone in that place we can be honest with, about who we really are and why we’re there? Anyone we can trust?”

“The Demon Prince said he lives inside people now,” said Hawk. “Which means . . . he could be anybody. So, no, we can’t trust anyone.”

“Situation entirely bloody normal, then,” said Fisher.

And they both stopped and looked at their children for a long moment.

“You do understand,” said Fisher, “why we never took you to the Castle as children, even for just a visit? It is your family home, by right, but . . .”

“You wouldn’t have liked it, anyway,” said Hawk. “I never did.”

“The Castle has a lot of bad memories for your father,” said Fisher. “And I can’t say I was ever that fond of it.”

“It is your inheritance, I suppose,” said Hawk. “You are attached to the Royal line. Though you’d probably have a hard time proving it.”

“Trust us on this one,” said Fisher. “You don’t want to be Royal. It isn’t nearly as much fun as the songs and stories make out.”

“Right,” said Hawk.

“But . . . you could still be King,” said Jack. “You’re the oldest member of the line, the surviving son of King John, which gives you precedence. You could take the throne, and lead the war against the Demon Prince.”

“I never wanted the throne,” said Hawk. “Never.”

“Your father could have been King, instead of Harald,” said Fisher. “There were many who would have supported such a claim. That’s why we left in such a hurry. Because he chose to be with me.”

They held hands. Jack and Gillian felt their hearts jump.
Their legendary love . . .

“Besides,” said Chappie, “it’s a constitutional monarchy these days, which makes it all moot. Whatever a moot is. It sounds sort of chewy . . .”

Gillian looked at Jack. “Did you ever go to Forest Castle when you were the Walking Man?”

“Yes,” said Jack. “How about you?”

“Yes. I wanted to see where it all began. Your old home, Dad.”

“Can’t say it ever felt like home to me,” said Hawk. “The Castle isn’t the kind of place anyone would call home. And my relationship with your grandfather, King John, was always . . . complicated.”

“You never talked much about him, even when we were kids,” said Jack.

“Nothing much to say. He did his best, I suppose, under difficult circumstances. We reconciled, pretty much, at the end.”

“Is it true that he’s still . . . out there, somewhere, in the Land?” said Gillian. “There are a few songs that say he’s with the Lady of the Lake.”

“Who knows?” said Hawk, and there was enough coldness in his voice to make everyone else change the subject.

“I would like to see what Nathanial is up to,” said Gillian, “that keeps him too busy to write to his mother regularly.”

“My thoughts exactly, concerning Mercy,” said Jack.

“There are bound to be some at the Castle capable of detecting my presence,” said the dragon. “So it’s probably best if I drop you all off some distance away. I’ll be around, keeping an eye on you, and on things, generally.”

“You don’t think they’d be pleased to see a real live dragon, after all these years?” said Jack.

“No one is ever pleased to see a dragon,” said the dragon. “That’s part of the fun of being a dragon. We’ll set off first thing in the morning.”

“If this is all so urgent, why can’t we go now?” said Gillian.

“Because it’s night,” the dragon said steadily. “I don’t see well in the dark. I once flew into the side of a hill I didn’t see coming.”

Gillian started to say something, but Hawk stopped her with a look. And it was only then that Gillian remembered that the dragon had been in the Darkwood too.

They settled down for the night. Hawk and Fisher sat close together, wrapped in the same blanket. Even after all the years, and all the things they’d done in their long lives, they still needed a banked fire before they could sleep. Jack and Gillian noticed, and glanced at each other, and said nothing. When they were small children it was their parents, not them, who had to have a light burning while they slept. Now Jack and Gillian had a better idea of what their parents had been through. And that they really had done most of the things that legend said they had.

Jack and Gillian, both in their seventies now, looked across the fire at the two young people sitting opposite them, as though they’d never seen them before. Not as Hawk and Fisher, heroes and warriors in their own right, but as Prince Rupert and Princess Julia, myths and legends. Their parents. Who’d stayed young while Jack and Gillian grew old. They’d both made good lives for themselves, accomplished great things, but nothing to match their parents. Jack and Gillian made a point of collecting more wood for the fire, banking it up to be sure it would last through the night. After a while Hawk and Fisher said they’d take the first watch, while Jack and Gillian slept. And the two old people nodded, and said they’d take over at first light. So their parents could sleep.

Chappie got up and circled round and round before settling down with a heavy thump beside the fire. “Over a hundred years old, and I’m still doing this. Does anybody know why?”

“Because you’re a nuisance,” said Hawk.

Chappie farted loudly and closed his eyes.

Hawk and Fisher talked quietly while their children slipped into sleep, and looked them over fondly. Chappie snored quietly. The dragon closed his great glowing eyes and dozed. Two thin plumes of smoke rose straight up from his nostrils.

“Never thought we’d ever see the Forest again,” said Hawk. “Never mind the Castle. Never wanted to. When I rode out with you, I never meant to go back again. I wonder how much things will have changed . . .”

“The Castle we’re going back to and the one you remember are a hundred years apart,” Fisher said carefully.

Hawk sighed heavily. “I don’t know if I can do this. It was hard enough going back the last time, to investigate Harald’s murder. I’m afraid the Castle will still have a hold on me. That I won’t be able to leave again.”

“I know, love,” said Fisher. “We’ll just have to watch each other’s backs, like always, and fight off whatever the place throws at us.”

Hawk looked at her. “Do you really think we can defeat the Demon Prince a third time?”

“This time we outnumber him,” said Fisher. “There’s us, the children, the grandchildren, the dog, and the dragon. All the family, together again for the first time. Who’d bet against us?”

Hawk smiled. “Poor bastard won’t stand a chance.”

And then they both sat up straight as they heard something moving in the dark, beyond the farthest reaches of the firelight. Hawk and Fisher stood up quickly, throwing aside the blanket and drawing their weapons. More noises, of something moving, too vague to give a direction . . . Jack and Gillian struggled to their feet, blinking and looking around, still half asleep. Old bodies take longer to catch up with warrior instincts. Hawk had his axe at the ready, Fisher had her sword. Jack grasped his wooden staff firmly, and Gillian swept her sword back and forth before her. For two people in their seventies, they both looked very competent and extremely dangerous. Chappie was up on his feet as well, sniffing at the night air and growling steadily, like a long, low rumble of thunder. The dragon lifted his great head.

“Something’s out there,” he said. “I can’t see it, but I can feel it.”

“What is it?” Jack turned to Hawk. “What did you see?”

“Didn’t see anything,” said Fisher. “But we heard something. Out there, in the dark.”

“Could it be a demon?” said Hawk.

“They’re pretty rare these days,” said Gillian.

“And we’re a long way from what’s left of the Darkwood,” said Jack.

“It’s not a demon,” said Chappie. “It smells dead.”

“It’s him,” said the dragon. “I know that presence.”

The dark earth right at the edge of the firelight blew apart, flying through the air in all directions at once. And out of the dirt, out of the hole, out of the dark of the earth, something rose up into the light. It stood right at the edge of the firelight, so they could see it clearly. A skeleton, its bones yellowed with age and a long time in the ground. Just bones, with not even a hint of meat or gristle to hold them together. Standing erect, it moved suddenly, jerkily, as though having difficulty remembering what movement was. The skull turned slowly to look at the living with its dark, empty eye sockets and bared teeth.

“I told you,” it said, in a distant whispering voice. “I live inside people now. The living or the dead. I don’t discriminate. Sometimes they know I’m there, and sometimes I don’t let them know. Depending on which choice will hurt them most.”

“Get out of him,” said Jack. His old body was trembling, but his voice was firm and steady. “In the name of the good God I serve, I command you to depart!”

The skeleton’s jaw dropped as the Demon Prince laughed at him. “You gave up any authority you might have had over me when you put down the burden of being the Walking Man. Was it my voice that whispered in your ear, then, persuading you that you didn’t need to be God’s errand boy anymore? Or were you just not worthy . . . ?”

“Leave him alone!” said Gillian, taking a step forward. The skull turned immediately to look at her, and she stopped where she was.

“You see, little Gillian? I came back after all! Just like I said I would when I hid in the shadows at the foot of your bed, when you were so small and vulnerable. You’ll always be frightened of me, little Gillian, until I finally come for you.”

Hawk and Fisher stepped forward then, putting themselves between the Demon Prince and their children, sword and axe at the ready. The skull grinned at both of them.

“Come to me, Rupert, Julia. Bring your spawn, and your pets. I’m waiting for you. One last time . . . pays for all.”

Hawk’s hand whipped forward, and his axe flashed through the air to split the skull in two. The whole head was torn away from the skeleton body, which collapsed immediately in a tangle of bones. Everyone rushed forward, but the Demon Prince was gone, leaving only death behind. Gillian kicked the bones apart, scattering them, and then took control of herself and stood very still, breathing hard. Jack put a hand on her shoulder.

“He knows we’ve come back,” said Hawk.

“He always did,” said Fisher.

“Would any of you mind if I took one of these bones?” said Chappie. “You can never have too many bones . . . All right, why is everyone looking at me like that?”

FIVE

WHO DO YOU SERVE?

T
he Royal carriage of Redhart went rolling through the Forest at an almost dangerous speed, carrying Princess Catherine and her companion Lady Gertrude. Both of them sitting as comfortably as they could, on a great many cushions, while holding on desperately to the leather straps provided to keep them from being thrown about more than was absolutely necessary. The carriage was following one of the King’s main highways, but it was still more of a wide, dusty trail than a well-maintained road. Not at all what Catherine was used to. The four matched white horses plunged forward, the carriage slammed back and forth, and the dust thrown up by the churning wheels seemed to get everywhere.