Ben sniffled and pulled the tissues out of his pocket again. “How could that be? Holly said we were in some different world, not back in time.”
“What does she know about it? I know that castle inside and out. This is it.”
Ben thought a minute. “Okay, even if it does look like it, was there a prince and stuff back then? And weird flying things as big as horses?”
“Maybe not. But I know where we are. I’ve even been in this tower before.” Everett stood up and walked around the small room, examining the masonry. “At Darton, there’s an irregular stone in the northern tower, right near the window. . . . See? Here it is!”
Ben got up despite himself and peered at the wall. One of the stones jutted out the tiniest bit. “So you must know the secret passageways and stuff! Like you can open the wall by tapping three times on the rocks.” Ben rapped his knuckles along the wall.
“Well, no,” said Everett. “This tower’s pretty secure.”
“So how does that help us?”
“I don’t know!” Everett said. “Give me some time to think about it, all right?”
Ben plopped down again and closed his eyes. “I wish Holly was here.”
Everett gazed up at the moon, hoping to see the giant winged beast silhouetted against it. He’d seen pictures of gryphons and pegasuses in mythology books; this beast had to be something like those. How had Holly managed to find one? And who had rescued her in the forest? It had happened so quickly; he thought he’d seen a centaur. Maybe it was just a man on horseback. A man who was friends with a flying panther.
Ben was right. This place, however much it felt like home, was very different. Like England, like Darton Castle, but . . . not. And what about the rest of the world?
He had to give Holly credit. Somehow she’d found a way to rescue them—well, try to—only hours after their capture. It was that key of hers; it had to be. But then, he thought glumly, she didn’t have it anymore. Lord Clement had seen to that.
Still, if Holly could stage a rescue, surely he could, knowing the castle as well as he did. He remembered a passageway between the curtain wall and the Great Hall. If he and Ben could somehow overpower a guard and make it as far as the passageway, they could shortcut to the courtyard . . .
And then what? How were they supposed to find Holly, if in fact she wasn’t already dead? Everett sank down next to Ben, gazing out the window high above. Slowly the moon moved across the sky. Everett watched it until he fell asleep.
Chapter 19
* * *
The Audience
The last things Holly heard as she was hurtling to the earth were the horrible screeches and cries of Jade and Fleetwing as the ground rushed toward them. Fleetwing managed to keep his good wing spinning to slow their descent, but they hit hard. Holly passed out.
As a result, she didn’t hear the shouting and stampeding; she didn’t see Fleetwing vanish or Jade streak into the woods. And, as often happens, Holly came to before her eyes decided to open. What she heard was this:
“Whence did it go? We had it in our sights!”
“ ’Tis a beast in the service of the Adept. Of course it can vanish.”
“We shall never find the familiar.”
“And what of this maid?”
Quiet footsteps around her, in a circle.
“Run her through. ’Twould be the king’s wish.”
“Do you speak for the king now, Grandor?”
“Do you not recall the law, Loverian? Adepts are to be executed!”
Holly’s eyes sprang open.
She was lying on the ground. Every muscle throbbed. Her thighs burned from straining against the rope harness, but the rope itself was gone. Her right elbow felt wobbly and when she tried to move, a bolt of pain shot through it. She was sure it was broken.
Three men stood over her, dressed in knee-length tunics and vests made of iron rings. One of them had slung Almaric’s longbow and quiver over his shoulder. Moonlight glinted off the swords pointed at her throat.
“I—” she began.
“Silence,” advised one of them. He was young, hardly twenty, with long, curling dark hair and a stubbly beard. He glanced at one of the other knights as they circled Holly. “She is but a child, Grandor.”
“And nearly killed the king’s archer,” sneered a shorter, more muscular knight. Holly guessed this was Grandor. “It seems she be old enough for the sword.”
“Peace,” said the third, older knight, whose eyes crinkled at the edges the way her father’s did. “Your thirst for blood is boundless.”
“As befits a king’s knight, Tullian.” Grandor held the other knight’s gaze so long, Holly wondered if she should try to break away. But then he stepped back. “On your own head be it, then.”
Tullian withdrew his sword. “On your feet, lass.”
Holly glanced around, but Fleetwing and the others had deserted her. She struggled to her feet, her knees wobbly. As soon as she stood up, Grandor snatched her by the broken arm. A shock of pain tore through her shoulder and she cried out. Bright spots danced in front of her eyes.
“Art a brute?” Loverian pushed Grandor out of the way. He steadied Holly, his arm around her shoulder. “Come, lass, ’tisn’t far.”
“She would not be hurt had she not attacked the castle,” Grandor muttered.
The four of them trudged along the dark side of the castle below the tower. Holly glanced up, hoping to see Fleetwing circling, but all she saw was the mist-covered moon. Even the window where she had seen the boys was dark.
It was like being caught cheating on a very important test and having not one but three of the less friendly teachers prod you along to the principal’s office, except that Holly felt about ten times worse. And she could hardly help but mentally replay all her mistakes. Holly thought she should have practiced more with the longbow before they left for the castle; she shouldn’t have panicked and sent arrows flying wildly; she should have clambered down the wall more quickly. She should have done better, period. She’d managed to live through it, but Ben and Everett were as good as dead.
Adding to this misery was the fact that her torso was bruised and her palms scraped; her thighs ached; her right elbow was purple and puffy. All things considered, she might be excused for the few tears that stung her eyes.
Then suddenly Grandor, whose sword was pressed flat against Holly’s shoulder, seized something from her back pocket. “Aye, now this shall interest the king indeed!”
“There be the lass’s wand, by the king’s beard,” said Tullian in a hushed voice.
“Mayhap the king will allow me to keep it as a token of my catch.”
“His Majesty will need to see it first,” Tullian said sharply.
“I say no different.”
At these words, their small group came in sight of the enormous arched doors to the castle. This was the gatehouse, and beyond it stretched the drawbridge that Ranulf and the others must have tried to breach.
Four knights now stood at either side of the gatehouse, still on high alert, with swords drawn. “Halt, in the king’s name!” one shouted.
“Peace, Gervase. ’Tis I, Tullian, with Grandor and Loverian. We have the Adept as our prisoner. How fared you at the gatehouse?”
“They swam under stealth of night, as merfolk,” said the other knight, who was the young Pagett. “Two of the man-horses, and stags as well. ’Twasn’t until they burst onto the bridge that we engaged.”
“We surprised them by our number,” said a third, shorter guard. “By chance Gervase and Pagett had but just arrived to relieve Gregory and myself.”
“Then how is it we see no leavings of the battle, Bryce?” Grandor asked.
The young guard reddened, and the one called Gregory said, “We slew none. Their falcons flew at our eyes—it was near impossible to see—”
Holly’s heart lightened a little. Ranulf and the others were all right!
“They did not essay to breach the castle,” Gervase explaine
d. “They were only the four—”
“And the falcons!” Gregory added.
“Aye, and the falcons. By the time the archers were alerted, they had fled, cowards all, leaving their lady to the king’s mercy. We did not give chase—we had the castle to defend.”
Holly hadn’t thought of that. Couldn’t they have stayed? Hadn’t they seen Fleetwing fall? And what about him, and Jade?
“His Highness has been told?” Tullian was saying.
“Aye, my lord, but ’twas finished in such short order, it hardly put pause to the feasting. His Highness is within, at the Great Hall.”
“Ye have done well, Sir Gervase,” said Tullian. “The castle is not breached, and the prisoners are fast in the North Tower.”
“And this fine trophy be ours.” Grandor shoved Holly ahead with his sword hilt.
They led her through a wide moonlit courtyard to a massive octagonal tower, connected through a passageway to the interior castle. Inside, they walked up three or four stairs and found themselves at one end of the Great Hall.
It looked like a cathedral, with its arched timbered ceiling and long, stained-glass windows. Someone was playing a lute. Although four long tables steamed with platters of roasted meat and tureens of soup, the large crowd of people were not seated, but standing in clusters, talking and whispering, gesturing excitedly. Everyone was dressed splendidly, the men in embroidered tunics with puffed sleeves, the women in long gowns and complicated headdresses. At the far end, on the dais, Holly could see the prince, who looked much more relaxed than anyone else. Holly couldn’t help staring; the party looked very much like the one she had seen in Darton Castle only the day before. In fact—she gulped—the prince looked exactly like the blond boy she’d seen at Darton. No wonder he had looked so familiar to her in the wood. The whole scene looked familiar, actually—except, of course, Ben wasn’t sitting at the high table.
At their approach, the lute music stopped. The room fell into awed whispers as the knights prodded Holly closer to the dais at the far end of the hall. The people pulled away from her, crowding against the walls; the men’s hands clasped the hilts of their swords, and the ladies clustered near to them, hiding their eyes. Holly heard mutterings like “But she’s just a child” and “She’s the Adept?” and “Such strange garments she wears.” But none would look her in the eye.
“Sir Tullian!” boomed a voice from the high table. “What have your knights brought us this evening?”
“If it please Your Highness, this is the lass captured in the outer bailey. She fell from the sky.”
Holly took a deep breath. Maybe she still had a chance to help the boys. The prince smiled and strutted off the dais with a sneer on his face. His guests gasped as he approached Holly, but he silenced them with a wave of his hand. She spied Lord Clement, sitting at the high table with a piece of bread poised near his mouth.
“His Royal Highness, Prince Avery,” Tullian said to Holly.
She got a better look at the prince now than she’d had in the forest. He was thirteen, Ranulf had said, though not much taller than she. His blond hair curled near his collar, and his eyes were a deep blue. She didn’t pay much attention to boys, but this one might have piqued her interest if he didn’t have the look of someone very rich who looked down on everyone who wasn’t. He had changed from his hunting clothes into a short royal blue tunic, embroidered in gold. A scabbard was slung casually around his waist.
Loverian nudged her. “Bow, lass, if you value your life.”
Holly bent from the waist. The prince snorted at her, but the arrogant smile faded when she raised her eyes to his and shrugged. “We don’t have princes where I come from,” she said.
“Is that so?” he said. “Nor proper attire?”
Holly didn’t know what to say to this.
The prince circled her as if thinking of buying her at auction. “Fascinating,” he muttered. “Where is thy wand?”
“If it please Your Highness.” Grandor drew it from his belt and held it out to the prince. The huddled crowd muttered, craning their necks to see.
Holly saw the glint in Avery’s eyes as he twirled it, observing the torchlight playing over the facets of the crystal. He glanced sharply at Holly. “Whence camest by this, Adept?”
“My name is Holly.”
A small gasp traveled the room. She had not used a tone her mother would be proud of.
“I think you are called the Lady Holly, am I right?” the prince asked.
“If you say so.”
“She has a sharp tongue, Your Highness,” Grandor snarled. “Might I not dull it?”
“Peace, Grandor. Go and find a rabbit to frighten if needs must.”
The knight’s face darkened to a purplish color as he sheathed the sword.
“She is injured?” The prince glanced at Loverian.
“Aye, Your Highness.”
“In the fall from the sky.” The prince raised an eyebrow. “Why not fly away now, Your Ladyship? These good knights could not follow you to the heavens, I’ll warrant.”
Holly swallowed. “I—I can’t fly by myself.”
“ ’Twas a flying beast, sire,” Loverian offered. “A leogryff, the myths call it.”
Avery snorted. “A flying beast! Man-horses! Wands and magic! Enough of this nonsense. Ye knights may be prisoner to such tales, but not I. She has powers, but cannot escape? Canst not vanish before our eyes, Lady Adept? Show us!”
The prince thrust the wand at her, and another low cry circled the room. Holly’s resolve faltered. “I . . . I just want to take my brother and our friend and go home.” Her throat thickened, closing up.
“As I thought.” Avery snatched back the wand. “My Lord Clement would have had thy head earlier today. So be it. Suffer the same fate as thy kinsman, if thou wouldst have it so. All three, for the sword, at daybreak.”
“No, please!” cried Holly. “We haven’t done anything wrong!”
“Your Highness!” gasped Loverian. “Would not His Majesty wish to question her when he returns? Lord Raethius has said we must hold any Adept we might find. Or mayhap Her Majesty—”
“Lord Raethius,” the prince broke in, “has been traveling since Beltane and will not return until long past Midsummer. As for my mother, she begs our royal pardon as she is indisposed this evening.” The prince drew himself up to his full height—not nearly as tall as Loverian—and looked him in the eye. “Well, sir knight? Hast further instructions for our royal court?”
Loverian’s face turned scarlet. “Nay, Your Highness.”
Grandor tried to pull Holly away, but she broke free. The prince had already turned back toward the high table.
“Please, Your Highness! You can’t kill Ben! He didn’t steal anything, I swear! We were lost, we were trying to find our way out of the woods! He’s just a kid!”
Avery waved his hand behind his head, not looking back. Grandor tugged at her again.
Holly turned to Loverian. “You’ve got to help me! You can have anything you want—I can even show you, in the woods, where we came from—you don’t understand . . . ”
What Holly actually meant was that she herself was only beginning to understand. From the moment she had arrived, everything had happened very quickly, but she had been free to do as she wished. Now she was a prisoner too. All the faith that Almaric and the others had placed in her meant nothing. Without the wand, she was surely no Adept, and they would never help her now, even if she could escape. The prince had the wand, the only thing that could get her and the boys back home. “Your Highness, wait!” she called after the prince. “Just listen to me!”
“What has happened to the music, lute player?” boomed the prince. “Stay the noise in this hall!”
At once, the music started again, and Holly was led out of the Great Hall.
She had started to cry, and Loverian took her arm. “I shall take her to the tower,” he said.
“Very well, Loverian,” said Tullian, as the other knight glare
d at him. “Sir Grandor, I need your assistance with another matter.”
Grandor shoved Holly away. “Mind Her Ladyship doesn’t vanish from your grasp.”
Loverian waited until the other two disappeared into the courtyard. He took Holly up a narrow staircase on the right side.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Holly said, choking back tears.
The knight fumbled in his tunic and pulled out a silk scarf. He tied it into a sling and cradled her right arm in it.
“It’s just that we really didn’t do anything, and I—”
“You wounded the king’s archer,” said Loverian shortly.
“Well, okay, I did do that. But I was only trying to save Ben and Everett. You don’t understand—I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone with the wand. If there’s anything you could do to help us—”
They had reached a small landing next to a mullioned window. Loverian stopped and turned to her. “My lady, ’tis my sacred duty to serve my king.”
“But . . . but it’s wrong.”
“I regret that you find yourself in these circumstances. But the prince has decreed your death.”
“But if any of you would just listen for a minute—”
“Sir Loverian!”
A boy about Ben’s age came bounding up the stairs behind them.
“I am occupied, Dart, what is it?”
“The prisoner, my lord. Her Majesty says to take her to the western chamber.” The boy gaped at Holly, scanning her blue jeans and T-shirt.
“Not the tower?” asked Loverian.
“Nay, my lord, Her Majesty was very clear. Not the tower, but the western chamber.”
“Very well. Come.” Loverian led Holly back down the steps, the page just ahead of them.
“Mayn’t I help, my lord? I have no sword, but . . . ” The boy drew a small dagger, which he brandished at Holly’s face.
“Away to your duties at once,” Loverian said, frowning at him.
“Aye, my lord.” The boy scampered off, chancing a glance back.
“I cannot think why Her Majesty wants you enclosed in the western chamber,” Loverian muttered.
The Key & the Flame Page 12