The Curse of the GateKeeper (James Potter #2) (18 page)

James heard Ralph's voice clearly through the apparently impenetrable stone as if he was only a few feet away. "Er, all right then. What do I do?"

"Point your wand at the doorway and say 'Braut Tir'."

There was a pause. James heard Ralph whisper, "What's that? I missed the accent!"

"Just do it, Ralph," Rose rasped impatiently, "they're standing right there. What's the worst that can happen?"

Ralph said the incantation. There was a slight pop and the doorway appeared. The light of the sunset flooded the cave. James squinted out at Ralph and Rose as Merlin extinguished his staff.

"What'd I do?" Ralph exclaimed, stumbling backwards a step. "I sealed them in! The entrance disappeared!" Even Rose's eyes had widened in fear.

"What's wrong with you two?" James asked, stepping through the doorway with Merlin right behind him.

Ralph's eyes widened even further. "Whoa," he said, awed. "You just, like, walked right through a stone wall. You're not, er, dead, are you?"

"They're fine, you prat," Rose grinned, smacking Ralph on the shoulder.

"One-way stone," James shrugged, glancing back at the now solid wall of the cave. The door was completely invisible. "Is it closed forever?"

Merlin nodded. "I require it no more. Let us return. The daylight will be gone soon and the tide rises even as we speak.

James looked and saw that the waves were slopping over the lip of the cavern mouth. Each wave pushed more water onto the rough floor. Merlin still carried the small box under his arm as he turned to lead them up the narrow, curving stairway.

"So that's it?" Ralph called up from the rear. "You have all your stuff in that little box?"

"Are you surprised, Mr. Deedle?" Merlin replied. "Would you prefer to heft a pile of trunks?"

Ralph chuckled humorlessly. "You'd be on your own if that was the case. I can barely manage to drag myself out of here."

The return trip across the peninsula bridge was rather easier than it had been on their first crossing. The cliffs of the shoreline were a welcome sight and the wind was less than it had been an hour ago. Merlin was the last to cross. When he joined James, Rose, and Ralph on the crown of the promontory overlooking the peninsula, he turned to look back. Almost casually, he thrust his staff out over the bridge.

"Discordium," he said quietly. There was no flash of light or obvious magical blast of power, and yet the middle of the bridge shuddered visibly. As if in slow motion, the spine of rock disintegrated and crumbled massively into the ocean below, sending up enormous, crashing geysers of water.

"Well, that's that then, isn't it?" Rose said, impressed.

Merlin smiled down at her. Finally, just as the sun touched its golden reflection on the ocean horizon, they turned to depart.

As they made their way back, following in Merlin's enchanted path, Rose drew close to James again.

"Ralph and I heard you talking in there," she said quietly. "But it didn't sound like you were talking to Merlin. Was there something in there we couldn't see from the doorway?"

James didn't answer right away. For some reason, he felt reticent to tell Rose and Ralph about the skeleton of Farrigan. He glanced at Rose. "That was me," he said, shrugging. "I was just… talking to myself. It was creepy in there while Merlin went for the box."

Rose tightened her lips and looked closely at James as she walked. He knew she knew he was lying. He looked away and trotted closer to Merlin.

"Headmaster," he said after a while, "what are the Borleys?"

Merlin was walking directly in front of James, his long stride cruising straight through the Forest like a knife. The last shreds of dusk on his robes gave him a vague, ghostly cast.

"As I explained to you on the train, Mr. Potter, the Borleys are shadow creatures."

"Yeah, I remember, but where do they come from?"

Merlin's normally deep voice dropped a bit lower. "Your companion in the cave was talkative, wasn't he?"

James followed Merlin closely. He wished he could see the wizard's face. They moved through the darkening woods swiftly, making very little noise. The wind shifted capriciously in the trees, rustling them, almost as if to cover Merlin's voice.

James went on, "He said that the Borleys came with you from between the worlds when you returned."

Merlin's voice was still low and rumbling. "There is a grain of truth in all fictions, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you know what barnacles are? Disgusting creatures that accumulate on the hulls of ships after a long sea journey. They weigh down the ship and must eventually be removed and destroyed. You may think of the Borleys as the magical equivalent."

"So they did come back with you?"

"This is so. I have been hard at work hunting them since my return. Most remained near me and were easy to capture. Two followed Mr. Deedle and Mr. Walker. Those I was able to track and capture before either boy became aware of them. Yours, Mr. Potter, was rather wilier. I believe it is the last of them."

James had been curious about something ever since that day on the train. "How do you catch them if you can't use magic on them?"

"Old elements, James Potter," Merlin replied, and his voice had that strange, hypnotic quality that James had last heard when the wizard was talking a confession out of Denniston Dolohov, Ralph's father, last spring. The Forest was becoming quite dark, and James wished again that he could see Merlin's face. He had the creepy sensation that Merlin was talking to him without using an audible voice. Merlin went on, "Old elements that few in this age even know of, much less understand. I have a very curious bag, a Darkbag, which has nothing in it. When I say that it contains nothing, Mr. Potter, I do not mean that it is merely empty. The bag is full, packed even, with the last remaining relic of pure darkness, left over from the dawn of time. It is into this bag that the Borleys go, for there is only one thing that a creature of shadow needs to exist in, and that is light."

"Does it kill them?" James asked quietly.

"Nothing can kill a Shade, Mr. Potter. They can only be contained. They remain locked in the Darkbag, starved for magic, desperate for escape, but utterly diminished with no light to define them. The Ministry of Magic has utilized a similar, albeit crude, method for containing Dementors ever since they were deemed untrustworthy as guards of Azkaban. They are sealed in the cellars of their old ward, Azkaban itself, captive in chambers rendered magically lightless. There, their powers are greatly diminished, though not decimated. They howl, Mr. Potter. I am told it is a dreadful sound, and I believe it."

James shivered. After a minute, he asked, "So what happens if the Darkbag gets torn open?"

For the first time, Merlin turned. James saw one eye of the wizard looking back at him over his shoulder. Still, he didn't break his stride. "The Borleys would escape as a swarm, of course, Mr. Potter. Starved for magic, they would attack the first source of magic they found and devour it."

"D-devour it?" James said. "But you said they were harmless. Like barnacles."

"I said that one Borley, in its entry state, was mostly harmless. Many Borleys, some in advanced states, and all desperate from their imprisonment, would be anything but harmless. In the event of the Darkbag's destruction, the barnacles would become piranhas. But this is impossible, Mr. Potter. I am the keeper of the Darkbag, and that means it is utterly safe."

James sighed. "Is that the famous Merlin bluster you told me about last year?"

Merlin finally stopped. He turned and squatted, his eyes level with James. He smiled and his eyes twinkled in the rising moonlight. "No, Mr. Potter," he said in his normal voice. "That is the famous Merlin oath you have not yet learned of. You may count on it."

"Finally," Ralph said as he and Rose caught up to them. "A break. Rose, you still have those biscuits? How about a sharesy?"

When they finally reached the castle, Merlin led them straight through the halls and up the spiral staircase to his office. Apart from the enormous desk and the dozens of portraits that lined the walls of the Headmaster's office, the room was unnaturally empty. James glanced around and saw the portraits of Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, his brother's two namesakes. Both portrait frames were, for the moment, unoccupied.

"I wanted to thank you three for your assistance this afternoon," Merlin said, and he sounded almost hearty now that they had returned. "Thus, I thought you might like to see my cache opened."

Rose widened her eyes with interest. "You're going to show us what's in it?"

"Not precisely, Miss Weasley, although you will certainly see its contents in time. No, I mean that perhaps you might like to see it opened. It is, if I do say so myself, rather a good bit."

James smiled quizzically. "Well, sure. If you say so. Let's have a look."

Merlin seemed pleased. He carefully bent and set the small wooden box on the floor. There was a clasp on the front, holding the lid shut. Merlin lifted the latch and stood back.

Slowly, the lid began to rise. It seemed to lift like a drawer out of the box, sliding upwards much further than the depth of the box should have allowed. There was another drawer embedded in the front of the first drawer. James moved around the box and saw that there were, in fact, drawers on all four sides of the main drawer. The vertical drawer reached man's height and stopped with a shudder. With a soft click, the drawers on all four sides began to roll out. The sides of each new drawer bore yet more drawers. Slowly, they unrolled, each surface revealing more and more compartments. It was beautiful to watch, and yet it boggled the mind. James' eyes seemed to resist what they were seeing. They watered a bit as the box expanded, filling the center of the room. Finally, after about a minute, the drawers stopped. James, Rose, and Ralph walked around the mass of drawers, doors, and complicated locks and hinges.

"That was definitely a good bit," James said, awed.

"Much better than a pile of trunks," Rose agreed.

"Wonderful," Ralph sighed. "Mysteries and enigmas galore." He looked pleadingly at James. "Can we go eat now?"

James grinned. The three students headed toward the door leading out of the Headmaster's office. James was the last to go through, but just as he was leaving, Merlin called his name. James stopped and turned as Ralph and Rose started down the spiral staircase.

"I have returned your subtracted ten points, Mr. Potter, and added ten as well," Merlin said. "You did very well in the cavern. You will remember, of course, that secrecy is essential."

"Sure," James replied. "Not a word to anyone."

Merlin nodded, meeting James at the door. "Of course," he said, lowering his voice, "I do not know precisely what Lord Farrigan said to you while I retrieved the box, but I expect his words would also not bear repeating to anyone within these halls. That includes Mr. Deedle and Miss Weasley. As you know, the dead can be very… persuasive. I'd hate to see any conspiracies take root."

James looked up at the Headmaster. The big man was like a giant next to him. James nodded slowly. Merlin seemed satisfied.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," he said. "Do enjoy your dinner. You've earned it."

A moment later, James found himself standing next to the closed door of the Headmaster's office. He looked at it thoughtfully, his brow slightly furrowed.

"Come on, James!" Rose called up. "The gargoyle says it's cherry posset for dessert tonight! I never get sweets like that at home!"

James shook his head slightly. If Merlin didn't want James to tell Rose and Ralph what the skeleton had said, then there was surely a good reason. But Merlin had only said he shouldn't tell anyone within the halls of Hogwarts. If it came to it, there was technically no reason James couldn't tell his parents, and they could tell whomever they wished, couldn't they? Satisfied with that, James turned and climbed down the spiral staircase to join his friends.

J
ames met Ralph at the base of the steps on Monday morning. The halls were already filled with the clamor and bustle of the start of school, and even though James knew he'd probably be missing the freedoms of summer by the end of his first week, for the moment he was still looking forward to classes.

"Got my schedule all set," Ralph proclaimed happily as they entered the Great Hall for breakfast. "Got Defence Against the Dark Arts with that Debellows bloke first thing this morning."

"Check that," James said. "I'm there too. Strange that he didn't require a book. He must just be so smart about the whole thing that he doesn't need one. This should be excellent."

"Debellows rules," Graham said as James and Ralph plunked down at the table. "You know he once took on two vampires at once with only a Beater bat and a Muggle pencil."

"A pencil?" Ralph furrowed his brow.

"To stab them with, of course. It was the closest thing he had to a wooden stake."

Ralph screwed up his face, thinking. "That must have been one bloody sharp pencil."