The Dragon King (12 page)

The moongate Artie had opened
from the key room led them to a very unexpected place: about ten feet above the round table. Artie had been the first to go through, and he was pretty surprised when he appeared in midair, fell on the table hard, and then rolled to the ground. Seconds later, Kay fell right on top of him.

“Ouch! What’s up with that moongate?” Kay demanded.

“Dunno. Maybe it’s because the gravity in that room was so messed up.”

Shallot came next, and while she was also surprised, her fairy instincts kicked in, helping her to land gracefully.

“Sire, what is happening?” Bercilak called, clattering across the hall. “Why are your knights raining from the very ether?”

“Bunk moongate,” Artie said. “Can you catch the others?”

“Certainly, sire.” As soon as he had spoken, Lance materialized overhead. Bercilak reached out, caught the archer, and put him on the floor.

“That was weird,” Lance said. “Thanks, Bercilak.”

“No problem.”

Lance looked at the moongate. “Heads up.”

“But I don’t have a head,” Bercilak protested as Erik and then Bedevere fell one after the other on top of the Green Knight. Bercilak helped them to their feet and said, “Aha,
heads up
as in
look out
! Now I get it. Clever, Sir Lance, quite clever.”

“Thanks. Heads up again.”

Bercilak spun, but it was too late. Dred was right there. He landed hard on Bercilak’s back and bounced with an “Ooof!” several feet toward the edge of the room.

Dred had fallen directly onto the inconspicuous black chair pushed to the wall of the Royal Chamber and was now slumped over, looking unconscious.

Bercilak turned again and brought his hands to his chest in a gesture of shock. “Oh no! Sire, that’s—”

“Nobody touch him!” yelled Numinae, who had just entered the room with Thumb.

Artie frowned. “Why not? Wait—
that’s
the chair you were going to tell me about, isn’t it?”

“It’s the Siege Perilous!” Thumb said quietly.

“What in the heck is the ‘siege perilous’?” Kay asked.

Numinae and Thumb advanced cautiously toward the motionless Dred. “It was a seat reserved for the Pure Knight, lad,” Thumb said. “Merlin made it. It was kept in Arthur’s court as a reminder of what could befall any person who was not pure of heart.”

“Well, what
could
befall any person who was not pure of heart?” Erik asked.

Bercilak said cheerily, as if he were announcing the rising sun, “Oh, he or she would perish—instantly!”

Artie walked briskly toward his brother, his heart pounding. “
What?
Dred is . . . dead?”

Numinae stopped him with an outstretched hand. “M’lord—”

Artie pushed past Numinae, who had to restrain him with both hands. “Please, sire!”

“
Dead?
” Artie cried, Numinae’s crooked, treelike hands still holding Artie back. “What a dumb way to die! In a chair!” He paused, wiping a tear from his cheek. “It shouldn’t be here. I want it removed immediately!”

“But no one can touch it, sire,” Bedevere pointed out.

“I
can
touch it,” a voice said.

They spun. Numinae gasped.

Dred sat awkwardly across the chair, a leg thrown over an armrest. He wasn’t dead at all. He had a big bump on his head and a tiny trickle of blood ran down the side of his cheek, but that was it.

“Dred!” Shallot shouted, sounding strangely relieved.

Thumb couldn’t believe it. “How . . . ?”

Artie rushed to his brother, but Dred held up a hand and said, “Don’t touch me! This chair is in effect. It didn’t kill me, but so long as I’m on it, any contact with me would kill you.”

Thumb nodded. “He’s right. There is only one Pure Knight. That’s the way it has always been; that’s the way it will be forever. And even if it weren’t true—would you be willing to take a gamble to find out?”

“Uh, no,” Artie said. He stared at Dred with wonder. “Man, you’re pretty lucky.”

Dred stepped free from the Siege Perilous. “I’ll say. That thing feels like . . . death itself.” He shivered.

Just then Thumb jumped and did an excited little spin in the air. “Artie, do you know what this means?”

Numinae clapped his hands. “The Sword of David!”

“The Pure Blade,” Bedevere cried. “He who can take the chair can draw the sword and live to tell of it.”

“By the leas,” Shallot chimed.

“Guys,” Artie said. “Back it up. You know Otherworld history inside and out, but the rest of us don’t, and Excalibur hasn’t given me any information on this thing. So what’s the Sword of David?”

Thumb’s eyes widened. “The Sword of David is not a regular sword. It is not even meant for battle. It is subtler. It is safe to hold—so long as it stays sheathed.”

“What happens if you unsheathe it?” Kay asked.

“Well,” Numinae said. “Whoever draws the Sword of David is greatly weakened. This person cannot fight, or work magic, or flee. They are stuck—waiting for death.”

“Hold on,” Erik interjected. “David, like David and Goliath? The one David used to kill the giant?”

“That’s it,” Thumb confirmed. “And like David, only the Pure Knight can draw the sword safely.”

“Which means
I
can draw it,” Dred said, finally understanding.

Thumb snapped his fingers. “We have to get the Sword of David. Dred—you must seek it out!”

Erik sighed. “Great. Another harebrained quest for some ancient blade.”

“Well, we
are
the New Knights of the Round Table, Erikssen,” Kay pointed out. “But I still don’t get how some weapon that only Dred can use is going to help us. He already has a sword.”

“It
is
powerful,” Thumb said. “For that reason alone, we should have it.”

“Also, Merlin won’t expect it,” Numinae added. “Just as he did not expect you to blow Scarffern. It is obvious how the dragons can help us defeat him. If we’re smart, we may be able to find a less obvious way for the Sword of David to help us, too.”

Artie shrugged. “All right. . . . Hey, speaking of the dragons—are they here yet?”

Thumb shook his head. “Not as of yet, lad.”

“But by sunup they will be,” Numinae said. “I can sense Tiberius’s location. It was a great thing you did, Artie, bringing him back. I am forever in your debt for that.”

“Ah, no sweat, Noomy. We all love Tiberius.” Artie looked to Kay. “We may have one other surprise, now that I think of it. Kay . . . you’ve
got
to read Cassie’s letter. Like, now. It can’t be coincidence that Cassie’s key opened that padlock.”

Kay explained to everyone what Artie was talking about. “Read it to us, read it to us!” several of the knights insisted, but Kay remained hesitant.

“I’m sorry, guys. . . . I need to do it alone. I promise to read it tonight. If there’s anything important in it, I’ll tell you.”

“Good,” Artie said reassuringly. “Now, I don’t know about you guys, but I am totally pooped. I’m going up to my room. Tomorrow morning we’ll talk more about this Sword of David and get going into that King’s Gate for the Grail. Merlin isn’t gonna be sitting on his hands so we can’t sit on ours. We
have
to find a way to head him off.” Artie looked each of his knights in the eye.

Kay clicked her tongue. “Dang, Art. You sound like a king.”

Artie winked. “That’s because I am.”

That night Kay climbed into
a huge four-poster bed, a fire crackling in the hearth, and set the small box from her mother on top of the covers. For a while she did nothing but stare at it. Her mind crawled with questions.

Finally she reached down and opened the lid. She pried out the piece of paper and unfolded it. When she got to the last fold, she paused, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Then she opened it and held it in both hands.

And there was nothing there!

She turned it over hurriedly, and over again, but there was no denying it. The paper was blank.

Her nerves morphed into sudden anger. “Mom! What? Why did you leave me a
blank
note?” Kay was never one to complain about fairness, but this was different. This piece of paper wasn’t just disappointing, it was insulting. It
wasn’t
fair. She crumpled it and threw it away, but it hit one of the bedposts and bounced back onto the covers. “Ugh!” she blurted, kicking the ball with her feet. “Go
away
!” But just as it eclipsed the edge of the mattress, something caught Kay’s eye.

She flopped over and grabbed the wad of paper. She pulled it open. There was a mark! “What the—?” And then, before her very eyes, blue-green strokes filled the middle of the sheet. When they were done, they had formed a single word.

Kay?

“Mom?”

The word disappeared, and new marks, in random order, took shape over the page. Within seconds it said,
Yes. It’s me. Pamela gave you your gift?

“Uh, yeah. . . . Where are you?”

Somewhere safe. Somewhere pleasant.

Kay almost said snarkily, “Isn’t that nice for you,” but she resisted and just said, “Good. But how are you doing this?”

It’s magic, like so many things in the Otherworld.

“But where did you get magic paper when you left us? That was a long time ago, before all this stuff happened.”

The words disappeared, and there was a pause before the answer came.
We have always had magic in us, sweetie. Remember how Artie came to us. . . .

Just then a horrible thought crossed Kay’s mind. “Mom, I’m sorry to ask this, but can you prove that you’re who you say you are?”

The words came almost instantaneously:
Kynder’s middle name is Bell. Yours is Orleans. Your left eye is blue, the right green, as are mine. When you were born, you did not cry. Your favorite stuffed animal growing up was a white rat you called “Ratty.”

Kay raised her eyebrows and her heart quickened. It was all true. “What else?”

At the Great Sylvan Library, when I was swallowed by the forest, you and I locked eyes. We didn’t say anything, but we understood each other’s thoughts perfectly. I thought, I’m so sorry, and you thought, I forgive you, Mama.

“All right. But how do I know Merlin isn’t controlling you?”

You’ll have to take my word, dear. Like I said, I am safe and happy, and I will never see a witch or wizard again. Besides, if I were his prisoner, I would be dead. He wants Morgaine dead, after all—and I am a direct descendant of the Lordess of Fenland.

These last words lingered on the page before disappearing. Kay was flabbergasted. “Wait—what? You? That means . . .
I’m
related to Morgaine?”

Yes. As I said, we have always had magic in us.

“Whoa.”

There is more, dear.
There was a pause. And then,
Morgaine was the first Arthur’s half sister.

“So what? That was a long time—” But then she got it. “Holy dragon turds! That means that Artie is—”

Morgaine’s biological half brother.

“But how?”

Igraine—Artie and Dred’s genetic mother—was also Morgaine’s mother so many years ago. Her father was a man named Gorlois, who, incidentally, was killed by Arthur’s father, Uther.

Kay whistled. “Things were pretty mixed up back then, huh?”

Yes.

Kay paused as this new information washed over her. “So Artie and I . . . Kynder and me . . . the three of us were meant to be together, weren’t we?”

Naturally
.

“That’s why Artie and I had our special connection!” Kay said, more to herself than her mom. “Because we really are related!”

Yes.

“It makes sense now. More sense, anyway.”

I’m glad, dear.

Kay paused as she worked up the nerve to ask the most important question there was. “Mom . . . why did you leave? If you’re a long-lost child of the Otherworld, why couldn’t you handle Artie?”

The page went blank and stayed that way for half a minute. Kay fretted that the connection had somehow been cut, but then the marks started to fill the page.
The apple fell far from the tree, dear. I’m not like you. I’m nervous and insecure. I rarely felt comfortable around other people, and when Artie appeared, I was pushed over the edge. Somehow, I crossed over and ended up in Fenland. . . .

“How did you have that key? The one with the horse on it?”

It was a family heirloom, passed down from Morgaine to our forebears many centuries ago. It was a tradition, passing the key, so I was passing it to you. Tell me—did it open the door to the Grail?

“What? No. It opened a lock on some crazy chest.”

Oh. We were always told it was the Grail key. “The key for the door. The door for the King. The King for the Grail.’” That was the line.

“I guess that’s kinda true. We used it to get the Grail key, which is bigger and shaped like a crown.”

Doors always lead to more doors. I am glad you are closer to the cup, since you seem to want it.

“We do, Mom. Merlin almost killed Kynder—who’s frozen in rock for safekeeping—and we’re going to use it to bring him back!”

Kay shook with anticipation. Just the thought of Kynder made her want to jump from bed and run into Artie’s bedroom so they could get the Grail right away, but it didn’t seem appropriate, not with this maternal message maker in her hands. Not since she was having a real conversation with her mom for the first time in forever.

“Mom . . .”

Instantaneously the page read,
Kay, I’m so sorry I left you. It has been the greatest regret of my life.

Tears filled Kay’s eyes.

Don’t cry. Get the Grail. Save your father. Tell him I’m sorry too. I never meant to hurt him.

“What about . . . What about Artie?”

I never really knew him. But after you, I owe him the biggest apology. Please give him my heartfelt regards.

These words lingered on the page, and Kay read them over and over. Finally she asked, “Mom, will I see you again?”

The page went blank and remained that way for a while.

No.

Kay’s chest heaved silently. She drew a breath to speak but then thought better of it. She waited. A minute passed.

Are you still there?

“Yes.”

I love you, sweetheart. I am so proud of you. Continue to make the world as you live it. I love you.

“I love you, too.” She paused. “Mom, will I be able to use this piece of paper again to—”

But as she spoke, the sheet began to shake as if blown by a breeze. Then the edges caught fire. Kay jumped out of bed and moved toward the fireplace. As the page burned more, the words
I love you
grew bigger and bigger. Kay worked her fingers around the paper so they wouldn’t burn. When she couldn’t hold it any longer, she dropped it onto the logs.

After it was gone, she said, “Well, that had to be the strangest reunion ever.”

Then she ran as fast as she could to her brother.

While Kay was opening the box, Artie lay his head on the pillow of his Tintagel bedroom and fell immediately to sleep. Within minutes his eyes darted back and forth as an intense dream overtook him.

He was inside the King’s Gate, standing in front of the door with the crown-shaped keyhole. He inserted the key and opened the door. First nothing was there, but then a great flock of birds bolted out. They flew around him, beating their wings against his body. He held his ground. When the air was clear Artie stepped through the doorway, and a face took shape in the near distance.

The face was Erik’s, his eyes completely white. Then the head turned all the way around, like an owl’s, but instead of the back of his head there was just a repeat of Erik’s white-eyed face, as if he had two. The image filled Artie with base fear.

The head made another half revolution. Erik’s face was gone this time, replaced by one that was older, the nose long and pointed. It had white muttonchops, and the skin was dark with inked tattoos. The eyes were closed.

Merlin.

The eyes opened. One was completely red. But the other was as Merlin’s eyes had once been—bright, alive, even cheerful. Merlin wore an oily cloak draped over his shoulders, and his leather hood dived down in a sharp V over his forehead.

Artie recoiled. Merlin laughed and brought his hands down quickly. In them was a sword. It looked exactly like Excalibur.

The blade sliced into Artie’s neck, and everything went completely white.

The brilliance of this dream-death was as terrifying as anything Artie had experienced on either side in his young, ancient life. He tossed and turned but couldn’t wake up. Eventually, the light dimmed and Merlin was gone.

Artie sat bolt upright in a cold sweat, his stare fixed on the far wall. It took him a few seconds to realize that Kay was in the room, saying, “Artie, hello? Are you there? You were having a dream!”

Artie spun to his sister. “Kay—I think I figured out a way to—”

“I just talked to Mom!”

“A way to—
What
?”

Kay explained what had happened with the note, and all that Cassie had said. When Artie learned that he was related to Morgaine, he cringed. “Gosh. I hope Dred doesn’t figure that out. It would be pretty strange to learn the woman you thought was your mom actually was your half sister.”

“Whoa. I didn’t think of that.”

Artie was much, much more delighted, however, to discover that he and Kay also shared some blood. In a sense Artie realized that he wasn’t an orphan at all. He belonged with Kay and Kynder. If they could get their dad back, that lone fact would make all of these adventures worth the trouble.

But they still had a long way to go. “Kay,” Artie said, thinking again of his haunting dream. “I think I have a plan to defeat Merlin.”

“Really? What is it?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. I want to think it through a little. I’ll run it by Numinae in the morning. Will you join us for breakfast?”

“Heck yeah. I’ll be there with bells on.” She turned to leave and then paused. “Artie, Cassie said she was sorry for leaving us—and for leaving you.”

Artie lay back down and pulled the covers to his chin. He was glad to hear it, not so much for his sake but definitely for Kay’s. She didn’t deserve losing her mom. No kid ever does. “I’m happy to hear it, Kay. And just so you know, I forgave her a long time ago.”

She pushed the door open. “Me too, I guess. G’night, Art.”

“G’night, Kay.”

And then she left. Artie was so exhausted that even with this exciting news he fell back asleep quickly. Blessedly, he had no more dreams.