Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Call

by P. T. Dilloway

  “But not my parents? Not Aunt Gladys?”

  “I don’t think so.” He squeezed her shoulder again. “But at least you have us. That’s something.”

  She forced a smile. Mr. Graves was like a father to her, but the thought she couldn’t see her parents or Aunt Gladys for the rest of eternity was too much to bear. She buried her head into his chest and cried.

  “Oh, there now, lass. It’s not so bad. This is a very nice place. Isn’t it, Beaux?”

  “It was a nice place,” Beaux said.

  “Don’t be like that, Beaux. The girl’s been through enough already.”

  “Fine.” Beaux snorted while Emma continued to cry. Then Beaux said, “There may be someone who can help you.”

  “There is?” Emma lifted her head from Mr. Graves’s chest. “Who?”

  “Merlin. He lives up on that mountain. If anyone can find your parents, he can.”

  Emma looked up—and up—at the mountain in the distance. Then she looked down at her flimsy white dress and bare feet. “How am I supposed to get up there?”

  “I know a way, if you’re not adverse to dying again.”

  “What?”

  “Beaux, I don’t think that would work for Emma. Don’t you have some climbing equipment around here?”

  “If I had any I’d have given it to Marlin already.”

  “There has to be something we can do to get her up there.”

  “There’s not—”

  A loud whinny interrupted their discussion. Emma’s jaw went slack as she looked up. A flying horse descended from the sky, its bird-like wings silhouetted against the sun. The Pegasus skidded to a stop next to the flock of sheep. It tossed its head towards Emma and neighed again. Though she didn’t know horsespeak, its message seemed obvious. “I think it wants me to go with it.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe?” Mr. Graves asked.

  “What’s the worst that could happen? I’m already dead,” Emma said with a slight smile.

  “Good point, lass.” He clapped her on the shoulder and then pulled her into another hug. “That’s in case I don’t see you again. Good luck, lass. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  “Maybe you could come with me.”

  “I’m already where I want to be.” Mr. Graves nodded towards Beaux. Emma’s face reddened at this, as it became clear why the other woman had been so hostile to her presence. She hadn’t wanted to share Mr. Graves with anyone else.

  “Oh. Well, I’m glad.” She gave him a daughterly kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for everything.” Then she jogged over to where the Pegasus dug its hooves impatiently into the ground. She hiked up her skirt and hopped onto a golden saddle. The horse barely gave her time to position herself before it began to flap its wings. A moment later, Emma was airborne; she looked down at Mr. Graves, who continued to wave until she disappeared into the clouds.

  ***

  Even in her fantasies, Emma had never imagined she might ride a Pegasus. The experience was less than she might have hoped for, as the horse seemed perturbed to have her on board. The way it tossed its head as it flew, she expected it to buck her at any moment.

  “Easy now,” she said into its white mane. “I’m a friend.”

  The Pegasus snorted at this to indicate its opinion. It flapped its feathery wings harder as it continued to climb into the air. Ahead, Emma could finally see the top of the mountain. As at the edge of the forest, a thin plume of smoke rose from the mountaintop. This she suspected was her destination. “Are you taking me to Merlin?” she asked. The horse nodded its head emphatically.

  The mountaintop came closer until Emma could make out a tiny cottage. It wasn’t a very impressive home for the greatest wizard ever, the one who had created the Scarlet Knight’s armor. She would have expected a castle made of gold or some kind of Greek temple with impressive marble columns.

  The Pegasus made little attempt to slow as it closed in on the mountain. Emma wrapped her arms around the Pegasus’s neck as she prepared for an imminent crash. She buried her face in the flying horse’s mane so she wouldn’t have to witness the impact.

  The horse didn’t crash. It simply stopped in midair. When Emma realized this, she took her head from the Pegasus’s mane. The flying horse was suspended two feet in the air; it seemed to hover like a helicopter. “I guess this is my stop?” The Pegasus nodded. She patted its neck gently. “Thanks for the ride.”

  She dropped off the saddle, into a snow bank. The snow melted beneath her bare feet to leave only bare grass. Emma stared in wonderment at this and then took another step only to find the snow had again melted away. “Amazing,” she mumbled. Almost as amazing as a flying horse. The Pegasus neighed loudly and then streaked away; it performed a wide bank to disappear into the clouds.

  Emma made her way across the snow to the door flap of the cottage. She didn’t have to knock on the frame; the flap opened before she could tap the wood. With a sense of dread, she stuck her head inside the cottage. “Hello?”

  “Come in, dear girl. No one will hurt you,” a man said.

  Emma stepped across the threshold, into the cottage. A middle-aged man, who could have passed as Isis’s brother with his deeply tan skin and black hair, sat by the fire on a simple wooden stool. He motioned to a stool across from him. “Go on, sit down,” he said. She did so gingerly as she expected the stool to disappear or turn into something.

  “You must be Merlin,” she said.

  “That’s right. I suppose you were expecting someone older. A gray beard and pointy hat and all that? They all do.”

  “Well, yes, I suppose so. I’m sorry.”

  “No need to apologize. That’s what people expect of a proper wizard.” He waved his hand in the air and a silver tray appeared from nowhere. On the tray was a china cup with something steaming inside it. “Cup of tea? Just the way you like it.”

  “Sure.” Emma took the cup off the tray. She took a cautious sip and found it was the way she liked it: Earl Grey with no sugar or cream. “That’s very good.”

  “You’re very kind.” Merlin did not summon any sort of beverages for himself. “Now, I suppose we should get to business. You did a marvelous job with the dark one. I knew I could count on you.”

  “Thanks.” Emma looked down into her teacup. “Could you have stopped her if you wanted?”

  “Of course, dear girl. But in the process many more lives would have been lost.”

  “More than myself, the witches, and all the people the Dragoon killed?”

  “Many more. Millions, if not billions. It’s difficult for most people to understand how devastating a war between magic can be. Not even Marlin understood. The last one laid waste to a third of a continent and killed thousands. That’s why I couldn’t risk intervening if I didn’t need to.”

  “But if I had failed you would have intervened?”

  “At that point, yes. I hoped that point would not come and I was right.”

  The tea suddenly tasted bitter in her mouth. She supposed Merlin’s reasons made sense, but the thought that he had allowed so many people to die chafed at her sense of morality. “Can you bring those people back to life?”

  “I could.”

  “Are you?”

  “Do you think I should?”

  Emma remembered when Marie Marsh had tried to bring her friend Veronica back to life and nearly destroyed the world in the process. “I guess not.”

  “Very good. Marlin was right about you.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That you’re destined to be the greatest of the Order. You already are. No one else could have defeated that creature. No one else’s heart was pure enough.”

  “Thanks.” When she finished her tea the cup vanished from her hand. “But that’s over now.” She cleared her throat before she continued, “I was hoping you could tell me how to find my parents. Are they around here somewhere?”

  The roof disappeared from the cottage to reveal a blue sky lined with streaks of
white clouds. Merlin pointed up at the sky. “They’re up there. Your aunt as well. The Pegasus will take you there—if that’s what you want.”

  “What do you mean, ‘if that’s what I want?’ What else can I do, stay here?”

  “You could, but I don’t think you want to do that.” He nodded and the roof reappeared over the cottage. “I may not bring all those other people back, but I could bring you back to life.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Because you’re the greatest of the Order. Because your heart is pure. That makes you too important to lose.”

  “You can’t bring only me back to life. It isn’t fair.”

  “The world isn’t fair, as I’m sure Marlin has told you.”

  “What if I don’t want to go back?”

  “Then you can go up there, be reunited with your parents. You’ve certainly earned it.”

  “What about the Order? What about the Scarlet Knight?”

  “The Call will go out. Someone will take your place. That’s how it always goes.”

  Emma considered this for a moment. “But you’re saying not someone as good.”

  “Certainly he or she will be good, like your friend Mr. Graves. Perhaps not great, though.”

  “I don’t think I can make a decision like that.”

  “No one else is going to make it for you.”

  Emma thought about her options. On one hand, she could go to Paradise and finally be reunited with her parents and Aunt Gladys. They could be a happy family again, only this time she didn’t have to worry gunmen would kill her parents or Alzheimer’s would steal Aunt Gladys away a piece at a time. They could be happy forever. On the other hand, even with the fall of Isis and the Black Dragoon, there was so much Emma had not accomplished. Don Vendetta remained as potent as ever, like a virus that infected the city with violence and crime. And there was Becky, who had so recently lost her husband and now her best friend. Becky would be alone now, in dire need of a friend. Emma was still needed down there; she could still make a difference.

  “I want to go back,” she said.

  “You’re certain? I have to warn you that it’s not going to be all sunshine and roses. Difficult times lie ahead, as difficult as anything you’ve encountered.”

  “I have to go back. There’s more I can do.”

  Merlin nodded. “I thought you would say that.” Another silver tray appeared in the air with a cup of tea. “Drink that and your journey will begin.”

  Emma took the cup from the tray and drank.

  ***

  Mrs. Chiostro was the first one to wake up. When she had passed out, she had been certain she would wind up in the Great Beyond with Mama, Sophie, Alejandro, her children, and her grandbabies. But when she looked around, she realized she was still in the temple of Isis. She was still alive.

  Sylvia was alive as well, though her hand was still severed. Mrs. Chiostro crawled over to her sister and put a hand to Sylvia’s cheek to make certain she was still alive. At this her sister’s green eyes flickered open. With a groan Sylvia tried to sit up, but Mrs. Chiostro pressed her back down. “Stay still. You’re hurt,” she said.

  Sylvia shook her head. She held up the stump of her left forearm. Mrs. Chiostro would have begun to scream and sob, but her sister only shook her head. “It’s not that bad,” she said. “It’s just a hand.”

  “Sylvia—” Mrs. Chiostro couldn’t stop her tears.

  “Hey, come on. It’s not your hand.” With her good hand, Sylvia touched Mrs. Chiostro’s hair. “Look at you. You’re practically pubescent.”

  Mrs. Chiostro smiled at this. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. Seeing you on the floor, I felt so angry—”

  “It’s your true self,” Sylvia said. “No need to explain it.”

  That her true self was a beautiful young woman was something Mrs. Chiostro didn’t want to contemplate at the moment. There were more important things to worry about. She helped Sylvia to her feet; as she did, she heard someone cry out.

  She turned and saw a baby on the floor of the temple. At first she worried this might be Emma or Rebecca, but the infant had tan skin and black hair. “Oh my,” Mrs. Chiostro said. She ran over to the girl and scooped the baby up in her arms. She studied the baby’s face, the child’s innocent brown eyes. “It’s Isis.”

  Sylvia reached into a pocket to pull out yet another knife. “Let’s finish the job.”

  “It’s not that Isis. This is the original. The innocent girl Emma wanted to save.” Mrs. Chiostro patted the baby’s back until the girl stopped crying and began to coo. “It’s all that’s left of her.”

  “Bullshit. You should let me slit the little brat’s throat now.”

  “We can’t do that. Emma’s right: we wouldn’t be better than her if we did something like that.”

  “I don’t care. That bitch took my hand. She killed Tabitha.”

  “She didn’t. The dark one did.” Mrs. Chiostro stroked the baby’s dark hair. “She’s an innocent baby.”

  Sylvia shook her head, but put the knife away. “This is going to be on your head.”

  “I know.”

  There was another groan and Mrs. Chiostro turned to see Rebecca on the floor. In her case she was unchanged, except now the Black Dragoon’s armor was merely a pile of ashes around her. Mrs. Chiostro hurried over to the girl’s side; she bent down as Rebecca opened her eyes. “Mrs. Chiostro?”

  “Don’t move, dear.”

  “Where am I?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s your dream.”

  “It is?”

  “That’s right, dear.” Mrs. Chiostro put a hand to the girl’s cheek. “Go back to sleep now. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  “I will?”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “OK.” Rebecca closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

  Mrs. Chiostro turned to her sister. “Can you take Rebecca home and get her in bed?”

  “I lost a hand, I’m not crippled,” Sylvia grumbled. Despite this, she needed some help to arrange Rebecca in a fireman’s carry. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

  “Go down to the vault and find a restoration potion. It might at least help with your burns.”

  “Let’s hope so.” With a flash Sylvia disappeared to leave Mrs. Chiostro with the baby Isis and one final grim task to attend to.

  She knew Emma was dead. She had felt it even before she saw the girl on the temple floor with her chest cut open. Mrs. Chiostro kept Isis’s head turned so the infant couldn’t see. Then she bent down to stroke Emma’s cheek, the skin so icy that Mrs. Chiostro shivered. “I’m so sorry, dear. I wish I could do something for you.”

  She began to cry, which prompted little Isis to cry as well. It didn’t seem right that such a special girl had died so young. The universe wasn’t fair, as Glenda would have been quick to point out. Emma was dead, Sylvia had lost a hand, and here Mrs. Chiostro was in one piece, young and beautiful. If only she could give her own life, she would gladly trade it for Emma’s life—

  As she thought this, a flash of white light blinded her. She cried out in pain and wondered if perhaps some deity had struck her blind for her sins. Then she felt something warm in her free hand. It took her a moment to realize it was Emma’s cheek, the skin no longer cold like that of a corpse. Her vision cleared enough so she could see the hole in her friend’s chest had repaired itself. When she put a hand to the area, Mrs. Chiostro felt a weak heartbeat. The heartbeat grew stronger until it thumped like a bass drum. Emma’s breath came back in a similar fashion, as first a slight wheeze and then a rush of air. Her chest, which had been still moments ago, moved up and down rhythmically.

  Emma’s eyes fluttered open. They fixed on Mrs. Chiostro’s and a smile spread across her pale face. “Hi,” Emma whispered. “Can we go home now?”

  Epilogue

  The red motorcycle came to a stop on the hill in Robinson Park. Emma hopped off the bike, followed by her passenger. The passenger accompanied her down t
he hill, towards the band shelter. Emma looked back over her shoulder to watch as her passenger shambled down the hill like the Frankenstein monster. In a way it was the Frankenstein monster, brought to life not by lightning but by magic.

  The Frankenstein monster made it to the bottom of the hill and up the steps to the stage of the band shelter, where Lottie Donovan waited. “Congratulations on your promotion, Captain,” Emma said.

  “Thanks,” Captain Donovan said. “Congratulations are in order for you too, Dr. Earl.”

  “You’re dropping the charges?”

  “We found the killer’s body in the storeroom above a bar. Roberto Moreno. You know him?” Captain Donovan asked.

  “No.”

  The captain held up a photograph of Moreno’s body. Around it lay the Dragoon’s armor. “I guess he was this Dragoon character we were looking for. I suppose your friend here did it.” Captain Donovan nodded to the Frankenstein monster that had accompanied Emma, which wore the Scarlet Knight’s armor.

  “I did it,” the Scarlet Knight said. Or at least seemed to say. Emma threw her voice to make it seem as if the Frankenstein monster spoke in the Scarlet Knight’s voice.

  “We found her sister too. She’s a friend of Don Vendetta. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”

  “I had to kill her too,” the Scarlet Knight said.

  “Well, no one’s going to miss her.” The captain reached into her pocket, but Emma was surprised to see her pull out a piece of gum. “I’m trying to quit.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “Yeah, that’s what everyone says.” Captain Donovan chomped on the piece of gum. “I’m glad I could get you two here to clear things up.” The captain shook her head. “I thought for sure you were the Scarlet Knight, Doctor.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d mind taking that helmet off for me?”

  “I’m afraid not,” the Scarlet Knight said.

  “It was worth a try.” Captain Donovan spit the piece of gum out onto the grass below. “Well, I guess I should be getting back to work. Do you want a ride, Dr. Earl?”

  “I already have one.”