by A. E. Wright
Chapter Thirteen - Castle Crag
MERL STROKED HIS beard in contemplation,
"Of course it would be dangerous, to venture out to Castle Crag at the moment. Cragsley is the closest domain to Forge Gate and without the protection of the Bobbin barrier you will be vulnerable. On the upside you would have me by your side." He said.
"It's worth a shot if you think it will help us fight the dragon, I say we go for it." I added, trying to sound positive. If I was being honest, which I wasn't, we were so close to the last item we needed for the spell that I was glad of the delay. I still felt the same determination to do the right thing but more recently, a nagging sense of fear had begun to take hold of me whenever I thought about who or what I would become once the spell had been performed.
"There is no portal to Cragsley, the journey will involve flight." He warned. I rolled my eyes in mock disappointment. Merl knew I hated portals. Flying offered so much more, the only downside was that the journey took a little longer, although it wasn't much of a downside when you enjoyed the sense freedom that came with soaring across the clear blue skies.
"Are we going alone?" I asked, wondering if Merl would invite Balthus along. After all, Balthus knew where the Sword of Cali was hidden, he could lead us right to it. Merl looked confused. "Balthus." I elaborated.
"No, Balthus is far too busy keeping Idris out of mischief."
It had been two days since Idris appeared on the doorstep with the Moonstone Scythe. So far, he and Dahlia had not crossed paths but I had told her everything that happened that night. She didn't seem to want to waste any energy on him. All she could muster was an indifferent shrug when I mentioned where he was staying. She was relieved by the news that Merl had managed to bring Cadalin safely to Blossomdown, she was smiling when I waved goodbye to her as she reclined happily on the sunshine yellow day bed at Honeysuckle Manor.
"Elba?" Maybe she had some idea where the sword was hidden.
"Is sleeping and need not be disturbed." Merl was right. Every night she snuck through the portal to Forge Gate and every day she slept, recuperating her energy for the next night-time expedition. I still hadn't worked out how she was getting through the portal but my best guess was that Merl was somehow supporting her mission and therefore helping her though.
"Okay, I'll go and fetch the wings then." I offered, heading off through the hallway of bookcases and into the kitchen.
The wings were kept in two glass jars that sat in a rickety and cobweb-filled cupboard. I reached in tentatively, the spiders that lived in there were enormous, Merl had joked that he was fattening them up to eat and then Madge had taken the whole thing a little further by actually eating one. It massive legs stuck out of her mouth, spinning in a clockwise motion as she chewed before disappearing down her throat with the rest of the unfortunate arachnid.
I tucked the huge jars under my arm and went to grab a handful of the mint and daffodil seed cake that Bettery made for supper. As I shoved a crumbling piece of the cake into my mouth, I noticed Bugul stood on the thickest branch of the highest tree that overlooked Merl's garden. He was busy knocking together two pieces of wood, his twisted body evidently much stronger than it appeared as he fashioned a huge tree house at dizzying heights from the ground. He had chosen that particular spot because it gave him both privacy and a good view over the whole of Blossomdown. It looked sturdy enough from where I was stood at the kitchen counter yet I had declined his offer of nipping up for some blueberry scones and nettle leaf juice for fear of falling out of the tree. He waved enthusiastically as his huge, orb eyes caught sight of me stood at the kitchen window. I waved back and then returned to the sitting room with the bird wings for our flight.
Flying was liberty, an intoxicating journey into the open, becoming part of the skies was a rush I never failed to enjoy. The pain that came with long flights didn't matter any longer, when I was up in the air, I was free.
I imagined the views below, the thriving canopy of Galdur Wood, the verdant fields of the moors and as we neared our destination, the hard grey stone that made up the beginnings of the daunting mass that was Mount Galdur. The sights would have been breath taking from my position but today I was not to see them. Merl insisted we take wing way above the cloud line. It would be far too dangerous to fly below them and risk being spotted. I had begrudgingly agreed. I was hoping that the flight might have been the perfect opportunity to look for signs of Jestin in Galdur Wood but as Merl said, we would see nothing through the flourishing summertime covering of the trees.
I knew we were nearing our destination when the salty air of the sea filled my nostrils and the sound of cawing gulls could be heard in the distance. Merl signalled with a wave of his hand that we should begin our descent so I swooped through the cloud line after him. As I emerged through the cotton like clouds, I very nearly collided with the nearest spire of the huge stone castle below. Turning my body first to the left, I had to duck quickly to the right to avoid yet another spire. Merl, who seemed to have a better idea of the geography of the castle, manoeuvred easily through the tall stone structures and came to land on a turret that was situated on one of the castles long walkways between the six spires.
"Don't stand there too long, someone might mistake you for a gargoyle." I laughed as I stumbled uneasily onto the next turret, almost losing my balance I flapped around mid-air before regaining my footing.
"Perhaps you should concentrate on landing correctly rather than trying to be amusing." Merl retorted dryly. I was too embarrassed to reply, so instead I braced for the expected pain that came with detachment of the wings but Merl began to head toward the castle.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" I shouted after him.
"I don't believe so." He answered.
"What about our wings?" I asked, walking briskly as I tried to catch up with him.
"They will remain in place in case of emergency. I have learned recently that having wings can be very useful if a quick escape is in order."
"Why would we need to escape from an abandoned castle?" I asked. "Bettery said the Cave Ogres and Spinners live in the caverns of Cragsley beach.
"Cave Ogres and Spinners are not the only beings to be feared in Cragsley Violet." Merl warned. "Come, in here." He said as he lifted open a large square shaped wooden trap that sat in the roof of one of the shorter spires. My wing clipped the edge of the trap as I slipped through after Merl.
"Ouch!" The sound was an unintentional reflex but it attracted a reproachful look from Merl as it echoed down the expansive cylindrical stairwell. Sparrows nesting in one of the small arched windows took flight in fear. I smiled awkwardly in apology and moved two fingers across my lips in a zipping motion, which seemed to appease Merl.
We moved downward slowly, there was no reason to rush through the castle and miss any clues as to where the sword may be. We came out through a simple black door at the end of the spiralling stairwell into a once regally decorated corridor that was now covered with thick grey cobwebs. The smell of damp and dust permeated the air, worsening with each step that took us further into the heart of the castle. I felt uneasy as we walked parallel to a line of partially melted Worlen armour suits that lined the grand hallway. I looked into the distorted visor of one of the blackened orange iron helmets and jumped backward with shock.
"Merl they have eyes, the helmets have eyes in them!" I was trying to whisper but my voice had reached at least two octaves above its normal level because of the surprise I'd just had.
"They are the ghosts of Worlen warriors past." Merl answered briefly and quietly.
"Ghosts!" I shrieked. My wings flapped involuntarily.
"Be quiet Violet you nincompoop. They cannot harm you, they merely observe. The Worlen refer to them as the Watchmen of the West tower. They died thousands of years ago in a battle with Odious the Bone crusher, the most fearsome Dragon that ever stalked the islands of the north. Their souls were entrapped within their armour by his cursed fire and the Worlen people brought
them here to rest. Now do be quiet." I nodded, partly out of acquiescence and partly from shock.
Reaching the end of the dusty corridor, we snuck through a partially opened grand arch doorway into a vast ballroom. Easily the largest room I had ever seen, the fireplace was as tall and wide as Merl whole house. Made from a dark stone material, it had two large columns. The first was a carved depiction of a man and a woman dressed in simple clothing with wild curled hair. They were reaching out with their hands towards the centre. The second column portrayed two fully transformed werewolves. Their muscular bodies tensed, extenuating their powerful form, they too were reaching out with their hands. At the centre of the gigantic fireplace was a magnificent glass window, its orb shape reminded me of Bugul's big round eyes. It was a moon, a beautiful, enchanting moon. I could have stood on the balcony of that ballroom and stared at that window forever.
"Violet!" Merl whispered harshly. "Snap out of it you ninny."
"Sorry." I said, reluctantly tearing my eyes away from the moon window. "It's just so beautiful."
"Indeed." Merl agreed softening. "Even more so when the moon is full and shining through that window." Merl pointed to the moon window. "As a matter of fact, it was in this very room drenched in silvery light and with our feet sore from dancing that I asked my wonderful Merryweather to be my wife." His eyes glazed over as he disappeared into his own memories. I allowed him to reminisce for a moment before jabbing him in the side with my finger, worried that he might have fallen asleep. "Ah but this room is not the same as it was when Queen Oma held her majestic moonlight balls. Neither is this castle, we must continue with care, there are ghouls here now that would have Oma turning in her grave."
"It's sad that this castle was abandoned." I whispered as we picked up the pace, descending the wide balcony steps and rushing across a broken mirrored dance floor toward another huge glass doorway.
"Indeed, when it was built more than a thousand years ago, it was the Worlen King Alps vision for a fairer Worlen society. There are hundreds of rooms in the Castle built for the purpose of housing the Worlen people." Merl explained. We cut diagonally across a huge entrance with a chequered black and grey marble floor and toward another broad staircase that led into another wing of the castle.
"So why did they leave here?" I asked curiously.
"Because by the time King Boon took the throne, a small number of the Worlen people had begun to ask why they needed a monarchy at all. There was an uprising of sorts, led by a Worlen soldier named Kial. Kial and his followers were somewhat surprisingly encouraged by the liberal King and his wife Queen Oma to explore the question of the monarchy's right to rule. King Boon insisted that Kial should be allowed to air his views within the halls of Castle Crag on the condition that no one came to any harm because of them. The logic behind the clever kings ostensible madness became evident when Kial withdrew his rebellion, implored by King Boon's widespread supporters to remember their king was a wise and fair leader. In short, there was nothing for the people to rise against and Kial was silenced." Merl said. As we neared the top of the staircase, Merl pointed to an archway made from copper and embellished with an ivy design, through it was another hallway. Ripped scarlet curtains that were half-eaten by moths dangled in the huge oblong stained glass window at the end. The window was magnificent, a moon hovering in the sky over a cliff with an impressive castle sat on the cliffs edge. It was a shame that the dust build up from centauries of abandonment had almost covered the vivid blues and purples of the stained glass skyline.
Looking beyond the window and peering into the corridor, I could see hundreds of doorways each with a brass handle in the shape of a crescent moon. "That was the living quarters for the Worlen population. Once upon a time, Merryweather and I stayed in one of those rooms." Merl whispered.
"So what happened?" I asked. "Did Kial do something? I mean how did the Worlen end up at Forge Gate?" I couldn't comprehend how the Worlen people had fallen from the lap of luxury at Castle Crag to becoming slaves in everything but title in Forge Gate.
"No it was not the solider Kial that slew the king. It was the kings own brother, General Brak." Merl answered.
"His own brother, why?" I replied in surprise. Merl grabbed my arm and directed me away from the archway and toward a small cupboard-like door.
"Because Brak did not share King Boon's respect for the Worlen people, he argued that Worlen culture and traditions were becoming diluted by Banshee ideals of communal living and Bobbin-like characteristics of mutual dependency. In other words, Brak felt the Worlen were becoming weak and his solution was to slay the king and force the people to the mountain settlement of Forge Gate." Merl answered as we gently manoeuvred through the snug door, trying not to catch our wings as we went.
"So the Worlens' haven't always lived in Forge Gate?" I asked as I began to ascend a spiralling copper staircase that led up into one of the six spires.
"As long as they have lived in Falinn Galdur, Worlen people have always resided in Forge Gate but it used to be that Forge Gate was a place of industry for them. Originally, it was only the workers who mined the mountain and the warrior recruits that were stationed there. However, when Brak killed his brother he became Alpha of the Worlen pack and with the support of the Worlen army he forced every Worlen in the land to move from Cragsley to Forge Gate. His aim was to cheapen the Worlen labour force, something he was so successful at that the Worlen people were mere slaves by the time Alphus came to rule over them." Merl voice indicated both sorrow and annoyance. When I thought about the day that Crone and I had spent on Blossomdown Beach last summer and how he'd described his life of toil, lugging heavy stones through the dark mountain, I hated Brak.
"I'm glad he's dead!" I spat a little too loudly.
"Sssshh." Merl moved his finger to his lips and eyed me with the same confusion I felt myself about my sudden outburst. What was happening to me? These sudden flare-ups in my temper, I was usually such a controlled person. Coupled with my newfound skills in unspoken magic, these sudden outbursts could become dangerous. I needed to get a hold of myself.
Merl moved the enormous cobwebs from our path up the staircase with the same technique he used to throw the mist at the Changelings at Thistlewick Castle. As Merl manipulated the thick webs out of the way with magic, a huge spider dropped from one of the webs and onto the staircase, its pincers the size of my fingers. It was so large I could see my reflection in all of its many eyes. Its furry brown legs working ferociously to climb to the safety of a crack in stone wall.
"Was that a spinner?" I breathed nervously.
"Of course not Violet you clod, even the smallest spinner is at least five times the size of the beast that just fell at your feet. That my girl was merely a very big spider." Merl answered in a hushed voice.
Above our heads, I could see that the staircase was almost spent and at the very top sat a square doorframe. There must have been a loft door there once because iron hinges in the shape of elm leaves were visible on one side. I hoisted my body that was heavier than usual due to my crow wings, through the gap and then held out my hand for Merl. It looked as though the door had been torn off with a good degree of force. The whole frame was splintered and scratched. I looked at Merl apprehensively, hoping that whatever did this was long gone by now.
"Come," Merl said, "This way and use your magic, we will need more light to search by." He cupped his hand into a tulip shape and lit up the room without speaking the spell. It was apparent that we were now in some sort of storage room with pile upon pile of discarded trinkets and dusty pieces of furniture strewn around. I tried to imitate Merl, it was a spell I had done before using spoken magic but I wanted to try to do it without speaking. I concentrated. Trying to draw my energy from the ground but it was difficult being as high up as we were. Nothing happened.
"Come on!" I urged. Why was this so difficult? It was a simple spell, much easier than the unspoken spells I had used on the Gnarls in Thistlewick and I had done it before yet stil
l my hand was unchanged.
"What are you messing about at girl?" Merl hissed angrily as he rumbled through a pile of chipped decorative vases.
"Eardom." I stated, giving up on controlling my unspoken magic for now. My hand began to glow as I walked over to Merl to join in the search.
"Over there." He pointed to a dust-covered sheet that covered a child-sized bed.The wooden bed looked broken in the middle as it dipped dramatically in a V shape. I doubted Balthus would have hidden the sword there but I went over to search anyway.
A cloud of dust filled the air as I pulled the sheet away from the bed. I began to cough and choke and swirled around to both wretch and suck in cleaner, less heavy air. My actions clearly annoyed Merl, who grumbled his irritation as he open the door of a pine ottoman emblazoned with the head of a snarling bear. When the dust settled, I turned back toward the bed and took a step back in surprise. Startled by the presence of a small and skeletal old man who was lying there almost naked but for a long grey beard, I held my breath worried that I might resume my coughing fit and disturb him.
He looked peaceful in his slumber. His small eyes shut tight, his hand tucked comfortably under his cheek and his long beard wrapped around his body like a skirt. His hairless head shone an angry red colour whilst the rest of his body was ghostly white. Not sure whether I should wake the mysterious old man, I turned to Merl who was wrestling something long and shiny from the ottoman. Merl had found the sword!
Elated, I bent over and brought the sheet up to my chest in order to place it down again gently over the old man but as I turned to do so, I found I was looking into his dead grey eyes that looked back at me with murderous intent. As the old man's thin lips curled back in a growl I saw a row of yellow teeth sat before another row of much sharper teeth behind them. Panicking now, I could feel my heart thunder against my ribcage. I began to move backward toward Merl slowly and carefully.
"Whatever's the matter now girl?" Merl asked exasperated. Trying to pinpoint Merl's current location in the room, I looked away from the creature for a fraction of a second but when I turned back, it was no longer crouched on the bed before me.
"He's gone!" I said disconcerted by his sudden disappearance.
"What's gone?" Merl sounded concerned.
"There was something here, an old man, he was just here but he's gone." The sound of something tinny falling to the floor somewhere in the darkness of the room was followed by a creak from the roof rafters.
"Come Violet." Merl said as he directed me toward the hole in the floor where a door had once been. "The sword, is that the Sword of Cali?" I asked.
"Indeed it is, now make haste we cannot stay in this castle one moment longer." Merl gave me a soft push toward the hole whilst skimming the room with his light of his hand. He moved it quickly in one direction and then the other as the sound of clattering objects seemed to be coming from all directions. I felt a sense of fear bubble within me as I jumped from the doorway and onto the spiralling staircase. Whatever this little old man was, it spooked Merl in a way that I hadn't seen him spooked before. I watched nervously as Merl lowered himself from the hole feeling relived that we had both made it out unscathed.
"What was that?" I breathed. Merl answered my question with a horrified expression.
"What are you just standing there for you nincompoop? MOVE!" He demanded. In the same moment, the little old man's head appeared from the square hole.
"MINE, MINE, MINE!" He spat in a raging high-pitched voice. "I'll have your skin for a coat, your eyes in my soup and your bones will fix my bed." I was routed to the spot in terror as the old man scurried from the hole, with claws sharp enough they allowed him to cling to the brickwork, I didn't take his threats as empty ones.
Merl gave me a hard push this time and it was enough to set me off careering down the spiral staircase with him close behind. The old man too was close, for every set of stairs we descended he kept pace by circling the stone wall. I battled through thick cobwebs that stuck to my hair and face and obscured my view as I stumbled down the staircase. As we neared the bottom, Merl shot a spell at the old man but he veered out of its way leaving an angry purple scorch on the stone.
"Mine!" He screeched. "I'll have your ears for egg cups, EGGCUPS, SKIN, MINE!" The old man's mania reached a horrifying fever-pitch as he scurried through the door only a few paces behind us.
"Through the archway." Merl cried before shooting another spell at the maleficent old man that once again missed completely. Merl didn't usually miss but I realised that the heavy sword was affecting Merl's balance.
"Throw the sword to me." I implored as we raced through the corridor. We were not as fast as we might have been because of the drag created by the heavy wings.
"Then it will come for you, you clod." Merl answered back as the old man scurried speedily over our heads before dropping to the ground on the corridor before us. I swivelled, about to set off in the other direction as Merl shot another spell. The old man leapt out of the way and then bared his rows of fierce teeth, hissing in anger.
"Let's go!" I said desperately.
"We cannot outrun him." Merl answered shooting a blue stream of light that missed the old man but corroded the wall like a toxic acid. Without thought, I turned to the beautiful oblong stained glass window I'd admired just moments before, thrusting my adjoined palms outward,
"Verja." I commanded. The sound of shattering glass was deafening as the window blew out. A cloud of shards of colourful glass exploded like a firework and then rained down on the cliffs below, glowing like a broken rainbow where they came to rest. I hooked my arm under Merl's shoulder and pulled him sideways with me. Surprised at the suddenness of my touch, Merl tensed his frail body but still, he went with the flow. He allowed me to drag him forcefully in my direction until the moment when my intentions became clear to him. His eyes widened and I felt him tugging me back. It was too late and in mere moments, we were out of the window. The world spun around us in a cascade of colours and sounds as we tumbled toward the cliffs below.