The Dragon King (6 page)

Merlin stood in front of
a trio of full-length mirrors, wearing a simple loincloth and inspecting every inch of his body. He was searching for another spot on which to apply a drop of sangrealite. He’d liquefied as much as he’d ever need since returning to his cave in western Wales, and so long as he could continue to administer the stuff, he would be the most powerful wizard who had ever lived.

But there simply was nowhere else to put it. His body was completely covered in the inky sangrealitic tattoos. His ears, his eyelids, his lips, the spaces between his fingers and toes—every inch of his skin was now a dark blue color like that of a moonless night sky.

He raised his chin and stared at his reflection. His eyes were very red. Not as bright as a fire engine or a maraschino cherry, but definitely approaching apple territory.

He blew into his hands as goose bumps prickled over his dark skin, then he held up his arms and, magically, a cloak fell from above and draped over his body.

He left the mirrors and walked through a rocky hall cut from the earth, passing several cavelike recesses. He passed one room that was closed with a large glass-and-metal door. Beyond it, computer mainframes, constellated with blinking lights, hummed for as far as the eye could see. Merlin paused to observe the data center, a sinister smile on his lips. Beyond that door, numbers were being crunched and processed. The computers were all hacked into the game servers that hosted
Otherworld
the video game. The same game he’d developed in his cave under Cincinnati and then sold at auction to a major distributor. The same game he’d seeded with actual magic. The same game that had helped to draw the hapless Artie Kingfisher to the Invisible Tower. And the same game that would soon help him defeat this upstart king.

He rubbed his teeth with a blue finger. Beyond that door,
he thought, my army is being prepared. Soon I will inject the circuitry with the power of sangrealite, and the switch will be thrown. . . .

The ghost in the machine would awaken.

Merlin resumed walking. The sounds of the sea could be heard in the distance. He turned a corner and entered a huge room with a large cage at the far end. It looked empty, but it most definitely was not.

Something was in there—a hybrid animal like the one he had sent to the house in Shadyside, but bigger and stranger. A thing that, when he was done with it, would be better than any dragon.

He walked to an oaken counter. He stopped in front of a finely crafted bowl made of polished bone and wrapped his fingers around it. The dark liquid inside was neither cold nor hot. He raised the bowl to his nose. There was no odor. He put the bowl back down and dipped a finger into it.

The liquid sangrealite inside—about eight fluid ounces—did not adhere to his skin in any way. When he withdrew his finger the sangrealite fell from it like water droplets shedding from a duck’s plumage.

Merlin brooded for a long time. The tide from the sea outside his subterranean complex was rising, and the cave whooshed and moaned as water poured into the lower sections, forcing air through them like they were tubes of a pipe organ. The smell of the ocean filled his nostrils. Every now and then a noise came from the dark cage. A hiss, a low grunt, a whine or whimper.

Finally, Merlin reached out and grabbed the bowl and lifted it high overhead. He chanted, asking for guidance. He wanted to know where his enemies were—Morgaine; Excalibur; the king. Artie had said he would consider leaving Merlin alone, but they both knew that was not going to happen.

Jealous, silly sword, Merlin thought. Excalibur belongs back under the water. Or better, to be destroyed. To be melted and used, just like this.

He brought the bowl to his chest and stared into it. He took a deep breath. He closed his eyes. His hands shook slightly. And then he greedily pressed the bowl to his lips and drank.

He took less than a quarter teaspoon—less than a thimble would hold. He placed the bowl back on the table and held the liquid in his mouth, sloshing it around. Its taste—coppery yet sweet—was unexpected. As he let the liquid run over his teeth and gums, under and around his tongue, the flavor coated his mouth and rose into his head like a strong drink.

He swallowed.

The sensation was like having a star ignite inside his chest, its light radiating in every direction, filling him from the inside out. It started in his stomach and lungs, then moved to his heart, his ribs, his abdomen, and up to his neck and shoulders. The feeling was bright and overwhelming. Every finger and toe, every strand of hair on his head, each of his long eyebrows, his muttonchop sideburns, his teeth, his eyes—they all tingled and pulsed. He began to shake pleasantly, and his brain lit on fire. This fire cascaded over the top of his head and fell, like a waterfall, corkscrewing around his spinal cord and zipping along every nerve and back again. Then his body went ramrod straight, and he teetered on his heels and fell backward like a board. He hit his head hard on the ground.

Which hurt, but pain was nothing now. It subsided quickly, and then he saw:

Morgaine in Castel Deorc Wæters, in her cathedral-like boudoir, searching frantically for something. Then,
znip
, like a channel changing: Artie and his pesky knights slaying Merlin’s test subject in the Kingfishers’ kitchen.
Znip
: Artie and Kay and the girl, Qwon, appearing well rested and clean at the Onakea house in Shadyside.
Znip
: less certain things—a crumble of rocks; a high-pitched whistling; flashing steel and exploding clouds over the barracks of Castel Deorc Wæters.

Merlin stirred. These last things were yet to happen. Future sight was always blurry like that.

It appeared, however, that Artie and some of his twits of friends were off to Morgaine’s palace for some foolish, unfathomable reason. A confrontation was inevitable.

He smiled. Why not take a few friends and join the fun?

Yes. Why not.

He stood as a drawn-out whine wended from the cage.

Merlin turned his attention to the unseen thing within. “Wait, love. You are perfect, but not ready. Patience. Your time will come. Your time to eat is near.”

Merlin rose from the ground and floated out of the room and through the cave, passing the side rooms and the data center. He turned into another passageway and passed over a narrow natural arch, a river of water beneath it, and finally arrived at a low opening sealed by a heavy steel portcullis.

“
Agorwch
,” Merlin growled.

His order was answered by the sound of bars dragging as the portcullis lowered into a gap in the floor, stopping with a clang and echo. Merlin drifted into the pitch-dark chamber and stopped in the middle of the room.

He held out his right hand, palm side up. A blue flame ignited in a jet and cast a sickly light over the room.

A harsh buzzing sound came from a large cage to Merlin’s left as the blue flame rose in the air like a little balloon, five, ten, fifteen feet, and stopped.

Merlin grinned. His teeth were gray. “Hello, my little monstrosity. I hope you are angry. A witch and king are out there, waiting for us to pay them a visit.”

Pammy returned holding a small
metal box. “Here you are, Kay. The box your mom gave me.”

“What’s in it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never looked.”

Kay took it uneasily. The box fit in the palm of her hand. It had small legs on it, like a desk or a chest, that looked like an animal’s legs. Other than that, there was nothing remarkable about it. No etchings or carvings. There was a tiny latch and a set of hinges.

Kay turned the box over.

“Well, are you gonna open it?” Qwon asked.

“Sweetie,” Pammy gently chided.

“Sorry. I’m just—”

Quickly, Kay flipped the latch and pried the box open. She peered inside. Her expression was blank.

“Tell us what it is!” Artie demanded breathlessly.

Kay gave him a hard look. She tried to joke, “Don’t order me around, Your Highness. I’m still your big sister.”

Artie tilted his head. “Kay . . . what is it?”

“I don’t know. Looks like a key, maybe. On top of a folded piece of paper.”

Artie’s palms went cold as he considered the very unlikely prospect that this key was the crown-shaped one that could open the black door at the end of the King’s Gate. “What’s it look like?”

“What do you mean? It’s a piece of paper, Art.”

“No—the key.”

“Oh. Here.” Kay reached into the box and pulled out a silver skeleton key, the handle in the shape of a galloping horse.

Artie took it. No way was that the key that fit in the King’s Gate door. There was nothing crown-shaped about it, and it was way too small.

“What’s the note say?” Qwon asked.

Kay didn’t answer. She stared into the box, holding it by the sides with both hands. Then she abruptly lifted her fingers and snapped it shut.

Qwon started to speak, but Pammy held up a hand. “Read it when the time is right, Kay.”

Kay looked into Pammy’s eyes. “Thanks, Mrs. Onakea. It’s just that with everything else—with Kynder frozen in a darn rock, and Merlin, and Morgaine, and the fact that we’re going to have to find the Holy frigging Grail—sorry for the language—”

“It’s okay.”

“With all that, I don’t think I can handle an eleven-year-old note from my mom.”

Pammy nodded. Artie wanted to reach out and take his sister’s hand, but it just felt too weird.

Kay turned to Artie. “Do you think we’ll ever see her again?”

“I don’t know, Kay.” They were quiet for a few moments. Artie returned the key to Kay, and she slipped it into her jeans pocket.

After a few moments Artie asked, “Mrs. Onakea—Pammy—can we hang here until tomorrow morning? I just want to feel normal for a few hours.”

Pammy smiled. “Of course. Honestly, I do too.”

They played in the yard and ate more food and took naps, but later that day they made the ill-fated decision to watch the news.

And the news was not normal at all.

There were reports from around the world about the appearance of all sorts of extinct animals. There were passenger pigeons and giant sloths and saber-toothed tigers and huge vultures. There were dire wolves and dodo birds and short-faced bears. People were shocked and scared. Many of the larger creatures were shot on sight, and many more escaped into the wilderness. No one had any idea where they were coming from or had any explanation as to why they were here.

But they were.

And, as every report pointed out, it had happened before. On the slopes of northern Sweden, when a few aurochs happened to be found wandering over the northern plains.

“Crossovers,” Artie said as soon as he saw the first report. “The worlds have mended, and this is the result.”

All four of them sat in front of the TV like zombies. After a few hours Qwon suggested that they should take notes. “Maybe there’s some kind of pattern or something,” she said. “Maybe there’ll be some clue that will help us figure out where Merlin is.”

Artie thought it was a great idea. They wrote down everything they could think of. What kind of animal was turning up where; how many there were; did anyone see them appear? No one had, thankfully. And as far as Artie and the others could tell, there were no reports of people going missing.

In the midafternoon Artie said, “People from this side can’t cross. Excalibur let me know. Only people like us can go over there—people with some connection to the Otherworld. But any creatures from the Otherworld can come over here.”

“Why?” Pammy asked.

“It was always like that. Think about it. The Otherworld is the fairy world. Pretend for a moment that every fairy tale you heard was true. Fairies would always poke their heads into the world of humans to have some fun, but did humans ever go to the fairy world? No. We were always stuck here.”

“But that’s not true, Art,” Kay interjected as some CNN reporter gave a breathless play-by-play of a wolf the size of a bear loping across a Montana interstate. “A lot of those stories are about one person going over. Jack and the beanstalk, that Gulliver guy, even King Arthur himself.”

“They were the special ones—just like we are now.”

They were silent for a few moments. Finally, Pammy said, “Well, I hope it stays that way. If folks start disappearing like your mom did—if the world truly learns of the Otherworld—then it’s going to scare the you-know-what out of a lot of folks.”

Kay huffed. “You know what’ll scare the you-know-what out of a lot of folks? If Bercilak decides to cross over in search of Mount Pepsi, asking everyone all over for Mountain Dew.” The four of them laughed uneasily. And then Kay said, “Oh, man. But for reals, no dragons better come over here.”

Artie went white. “No. That would be a major problem.”

They turned back to the TV and watched it dutifully, continuing to take notes. Just before dinner, Qwon gathered their work, put the major details into an Excel doc, and printed it out. When they sat down to eat they pored over the pages, trying to figure out if there was any information hidden in them that they might be able to use.

Toward the end of a mostly silent meal, Artie said, “I don’t see anything that would help us find Merlin—do you guys?”

“It’s all over the map,” Kay added. “Animals are showing up
every
where.”

Pammy served dessert—hot fudge sundaes—and for a while they ate in more silence.

“Wait—that’s it!” Qwon exclaimed, standing quickly, a dribble of chocolate running down the corner of her mouth.

“What, honey?” Pammy asked, pointing at Qwon’s chin.

Qwon wiped it with her napkin. “‘All over the map!’ Mom, do we still have that big fold-out
National Geographic
map?”

Pammy nodded. “Let me check.” She got up and left the dining room.

“What is it, Q?” Artie asked.

“It’s something about
where
the animals have been turning up.”

“But they’re everywhere. There must be a million crossovers out there,” Kay said.

“Actually, there’s a thousand and one,” Artie said. “Don’t ask me how I know that; I just do.”

Kay said, “All right, a thousand and one. Still, the things aren’t being picky.”

“Here it is, sweetie,” Pammy said, returning to the dining room and unfolding a huge sheet of glossy paper.

“Thanks, Mom.” Qwon grabbed the map, plopped onto the floor, and began working feverishly. “Let me know if I miss something.” Using a Sharpie, she circled places where animals had been reported: Ohio and Pennsylvania, of course, but also the rest of North and South America, Iceland, Western Europe, Eurasia, the Middle East, the Far East, Africa, Australia, New Zealand. The others stood over her, watching in amazement.

When she was done, she was practically sweating. She sat back and admired her work. “Notice anything?”

“That you’re some kind of human supercomputer?” Kay said.

Pammy, however, was used to this kind of thing from Qwon. She pointed at a spot on the map. “There.”

Artie leaned forward. “Is that right?”

“Whoa,” Kay said.

Qwon nodded. “Yep. Unless they’re not reporting it, there haven’t been any signs of animals showing up in southwestern Britain.”

Artie knelt next to Qwon. “Which is pretty weird, since a flock of those jaybirds was seen in London—”

“And one of those huge vultures was seen flying over Mont-Saint-Michel,” Qwon added.

“So something’s going on in Wales or Cornwall,” Pammy said.

“Like something is being hidden there,” Qwon mused.

“But what? And hidden how?” Pammy wondered.

“Merlin!” Artie and Kay exclaimed in unison.

Artie jabbed a finger on the map. “His hideout must be there somewhere, and he’s using some kind of magical smokescreen to keep it secret. Tom said it was on our side, and it makes total sense that it would be in that part of Britain, since that’s where Arthur the First was king.” Artie grabbed Qwon by a shoulder. “Do you think you might be able to narrow it down at all?”

“I’d have to do more research, but I could try.”

Artie stood. “Great. Qwon . . . would you consider staying here to do this? Instead of coming back with me and Kay?”

“Well, I—”

“It’s important, Q. Almost as important as figuring out how to get the Grail.” Artie looked at Kay. “Which is what we are going to start doing right away.”

“Cool,” Kay said.

Qwon stood, too. “But, Artie, you worked so hard to bring the Seven Swords together, don’t you think they should stay that way? Especially if you’re going back to Fenland?”

Pammy shifted her weight. She hated thinking about her daughter being in a life-or-death sword fight. “Please, sweetie, stay here with me.”

Qwon spun to Pammy. “Oh, Mom. I
want
to stay here! More than anything, I want to. But don’t you think Artie wants to stay too? And Kay?” Pammy looked at all three of the children with sad eyes. “Only they
can’t
, Mom. They have to save Kynder and deal with Merlin. I need to help them. It wouldn’t be right if I stayed!”

“Qwon, you
would
be helping us do these things,” Artie insisted. “We really need to know where Merlin’s hideout is. You can meet us back in Otherworld when you’re done.”

“We’re still going to spend the night here, though, right?” Kay asked.

“Absolutely, Kay. I want a regular bed and a fluffy pillow more than just about anything right now. We’ll leave in the morning, first light.”

“Great.”

“Awesome,” Artie said, clapping his hands. “Starting tomorrow, we’re gonna get our quest back on!”