The Camelot Spell

by Laura Anne Gilman

  There was really nothing Ailis or Newt could say to that. So instead the three humans waited while the dragon blew more of its smoke into the chamber, the very end of its tail twitching against the floor of the cave.

  “A worthy trade, perhaps. Hmmmmmm. A worthy trade. What is it you would take in exchange?”

  “A small thing, a very small thing,” Gerard said. “The ring you wear in your ear. That is all.”

  Ailis would have groaned at the way Gerard tried to bargain, making it clear that what they wanted was no small thing at all, but it had been his offer that was accepted, so he had the right to do it as he would. She only hoped he wouldn’t make the dragon rethink the deal and ask for more.

  “A ring?” The dragon pulled its head back as though affronted…or surprised. The black eyes rolled backward in contemplation. “A ring. Hmmmmm. Hmmmmmm. Yes, yes, I remember. I took it from a pirate.”

  The tone of the dragon’s voice, fondly remembering the incident, suggested that the pirate had not given it willingly.

  “And now you want it…why?”

  “We asked no reasons of you, Wise One,” Ailis said firmly. “Reasons cost extra.”

  The head tilted, and a puff of smoke came out in a dragon-laugh. “So. Take it, human. Come to me and take it.”

  In the end, it was Newt who stepped forward as the great neck snaked down, lowering the head to within touching distance of the short human. He calmed his heartbeat, calling on everything he had ever learned dealing with injured dogs and spooked horses. The dragon might be wiser, smarter, more fierce, but the trick was still to show no fear; to do nothing that might provoke a regrettable instinctive reaction.

  Unlike what he would do with a dog or horse, however, Newt dared not stroke the skin to calm the beast, no matter how inviting the scaled hide might be with its sparkle and sheen. Close up the smell was stronger than was comfortable, a stink of cloying smoke and the sweat of a meat-eater too long without water. He wondered, briefly, if dragons bathed, or perhaps rolled in the dirt to cleanse themselves; and if the wings, unfolded, were like those of bats or birds….

  “The ring, human,” the dragon reminded him, the voice close enough to his ear to make him start and perspire.

  “Yes. Turn this way, please?”

  The dragon obliged, one eye watching Newt’s every move, and Newt was glad that his dagger was sheathed and out of reach so he wouldn’t be tempted to do anything stupid. In such a short time he’d trusted his life first to an unproven squire, and then to a girl who might be led astray by magical voices, and now to a dragon that could eat him in two bites.

  Smiling slightly at the insanity of it all, Newt lifted one hand, letting the dragon see every movement clearly. One finger touched the ring gently. It seemed to shimmer with blue light, calling him to place it on his own finger and carry it away.

  “I’m going to unhook it now,” Newt told the dragon, hearing his voice crack in the same manner he had teased Gerard about not long ago. “It may tug a little. Please don’t bite me if it does.”

  “I shall not,” the dragon assured him gravely.

  Contrary to his expectations, the dragon’s skin was warm and soft, so much like the delicate flesh of a horse’s muzzle that Newt almost let himself relax into it. But he remembered himself in time before taking such a liberty, instead procuring the ring in a delicate pinch and releasing the catch with his other hand.

  The ring came away in his hand without any difficulty, and Newt stepped away from the dragon’s head with undignified haste.

  “You have what you came for,” the dragon said, keeping its head low and watching them. “Go now. Bother me no more.”

  “Once more, Wise One,” Gerard said, inclining his head to the dragon, as close as he could manage to the way knights saluted each other on the jousting field. “Once more.”

  “Indeed. I shall look forward to it, human. I shall be here when you return.”

  And with that, the dragon curled its head back onto the treasure-heap, closed its eyes, and began to snore once again.

  The three humans, the talisman safely captured on Newt’s finger, turned and fled the cavern.

  More time had passed than they had been aware of while they spoke to the dragon. Night had fallen and the sky was spread out before them, black silk scattered with brilliant stars. The air was cool and crisp, smelling faintly of what they could now identify as dragon-breath—or perhaps the smell came with them, clinging to their clothes and hair.

  From their vantage point high up on the hill, the world seemed as distant as the sky.

  “You have the talisman?” Gerard asked Newt. The stable boy nodded, unclenching his fingers and displaying the thick golden band on one finger.

  “It seemed smaller, somehow, in the dragon’s ear,” Newt said.

  “Do you realize how that sounds?” Ailis asked. “Speaking of a dragon so casually.”

  “No stranger than speaking of a troll. Or an enchanter in a mystical house of ice. I begin to wonder if my horse will start to speak next. Or the very walls of Camelot.”

  “They had best not,” Gerard said, clearly not happy with the idea that walls might begin to speak.

  “At this moment,” Newt said, still staring down at the ring, “I begin to think anything at all is possible.” He let out a whoop, startling himself as much as his companions and the horses tethered nearby. “Dragons! I took a ring off a dragon!”

  “It seems more…appropriate a talisman, than the other two,” Ailis said. “But do you really think you should be wearing it? It’s magical, after all.”

  Newt blanched, and slid the ring off his finger quickly. He handed it to Ailis without hesitation when she extended her own hand for it, grinning at how quickly he moved once reminded of its origins.

  She rested the ring in her palm, tilting her hand first left then right, looking for something out of the ordinary. But the blue magic had faded the moment they identified it, same as with the other two talismans, and it did nothing but glint like ordinary gold in the starlight.

  “What do you think they do?” Gerard wondered.

  “Do talismans all have to do something?” Newt asked. “Isn’t it enough that they just…I don’t know…are?”

  The two young men both turned and looked at Ailis. She looked up at them and gave a startled little shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe…wait.” She closed her fingers around the ring. “Gerard, get the other two talismans.”

  He started to question, then thought better of it and went to fetch them from the saddlebags.

  “It’s stupid of us to have left them out here where anyone might have stolen them,” Newt said.

  “There wasn’t anyone here to steal anything,” Ailis pointed out. “The nearest town is hours away. And who would come near a dragon’s lair if they need not?”

  “Perhaps someone who didn’t know a dragon was here? How often do you think he leaves that cavern, anyway?”

  Gerard came back with the two glass talismans before she could answer. “Here. What do you think—”

  “A moment,” she demanded, sitting comfortably on the ground and placing the ring on the dirt in front of her. She reached up for the two other talismans. “Something about that riddle Merlin gave us…”

  “The talismans had to be reclaimed by ‘three who are one,’” Newt said. He looked at the other two doubtfully. “Is that us?”

  “I suppose.” Gerard sounded only a little reluctant to admit such a thing. “But who’s the one who is none?”

  “I don’t know,” Ailis said impatiently. “Maybe Merlin? He was supposed to have been a foundling, not knowing who his parents were. But what I meant was that line about ‘one into three.’” Ailis placed the glass objects next to each other, considering them. Wide base. Narrow end. Ends and base each the same distance across, perfectly matching. The narrow end…She picked up the ring and measured it against the end of the glass on the left. The narrow end was the same distance across as the inside of the ring.
She set it firmly against the end. It stayed put.

  “You think…”

  “Maybe.”

  She lifted the other glass and turned it upside down, matching narrow end to narrow end, with the golden ring between.

  A blast of dark blue light momentarily blinded them, outshining the stars and making the night seem far darker when it faded.

  “What was that?” Gerard exclaimed.

  “Magic, I’d wager,” Newt said in an even tone, his earlier exuberance drained from him. “Isn’t it always?” He touched her face gently, making her look at him. “Ailis, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, her voice faint and distant. “Look!”

  The three talismans were fused by magic into one piece. Inside the topmost glass, sparkling blue particles of sand appeared, suspended in the act of sliding into the bottom glass, as though caught in time.

  But what had caught Ailis’s attention was the red flame slowly etching words on the glass the same way Merlin’s had given them the original riddle, etched into the walls of the ice house.

  Tempus signa proferrit.

  Tempus non insisit.

  Rex et serva aeque morientur.

  Lacrima sola una separet

  Lacrima sola una liberaret.

  Tempus medicus.

  Tempus interfector.

  Tempus flumen hic nunquam comprimit.

  Incipat. Finiat. Renovet. Renovet.

  “We did it,” Gerard said, barely able to breathe around the knot in his chest. “The three talismans into one. We did it.”

  “We haven’t done it yet,” Newt said. “The riddle said ‘three who are one…before the moment turns at home.’ So for all we know, Camelot’s still asleep. Besides, these new words—can you read them?” The other two shook their heads. “Neither can I. And we don’t have time to find someone who does. Tomorrow at midnight we’re out of time.”

  “We have to trust Merlin,” Ailis said.

  “What we have to do,” Gerard said, “is make it back to Camelot in time. Let’s go!”

  TEN

  They rode all through that night and most of the next morning, pushing their horses cruelly out of necessity, and trusting the faint blue glow of the map to guide them. It was just before noon when Camelot came into sight. From a distance, the castle looked the same as it ever did. Set on an incline, the castle walls were manned by guards moving slowly back and forth, and the banner that indicated the king was in residence flew on the far watchtower.

  But something seemed off. It wasn’t until they came closer, almost to the base of the hill, that they realized what it was.

  The gates were closed. And the guards were too slight to be full-grown men, despite their armor.

  “It’s what we feared,” Ailis murmured. In the back of their minds, all three had half-hoped that somehow someone—some adult—would have come in and solved the crisis without them. That’s the way the world was meant to work, not left resting on their unready shoulders. But Fate had not been so kind, and they were still needed.

  “Hurry,” Gerard said, and they kicked their exhausted horses into one final gallop.

  “Open!” he called as they came within hailing distance. “Open in the king’s name! It is Gerard of Abmont and his companions,” he added, in case the young guards didn’t recognize them.

  There was a hesitation. All three of them began to sweat. Then the sound of chains being pulled came through and the great doors began to swing open.

  The moment they slipped through the half-open doors, they were surrounded by dozens of children, all of them reaching out, trying to touch the three, grabbing at their clothing, calling their names.

  “Silence!” Newt bellowed, and a shocked silence fell on the courtyard, broken only by an anonymous sniffle from a youngster in the crowd.

  “Is this how you keep order?” Gerard asked, his voice carrying in the silence. “Is this how you hold Camelot in our absence?”

  “Bossiness has always been a problem with him, hasn’t it?” Newt said to Ailis from behind one hand. She bit the side of her cheek to keep from laughing. It wasn’t really that funny, but they were so very tired.

  Gerard swung down off his horse, wincing as he did so. Even for a squire, riding through the night and past dawn took its toll on the body.

  Someone took the reins of his horse and led the beast away for a well-deserved rubdown and treat. Without having to turn around, Gerard could feel his companions dismount and fall in behind him, their presence surprisingly comforting; as much or even more than the three-in-one talisman in the saddlebag now slung over his shoulder.

  They made their way through the silent castle to the Great Hall, but Arthur and his court no longer sat at the feasting tables. The Great Hall had been scrubbed spotless. The long trestle tables which had been brought out for the feast were removed, so that only the high table remained. The great salt dish and heavy gold candlesticks suggested that at any moment servants would begin setting the table for the midday meal.

  “We thought it best to keep things as…normal as we could,” Thomas said, meeting them at the door. The squire looked as though, unlike the adult inhabitants of the castle, he had not slept in days.

  Gerard didn’t care; he only had one thing on his mind right now. “The king?”

  “Come with me.”

  They walked through the castle hallways, unnerved by the soft echoes of their feet on the floor. Thomas didn’t seem to notice. Perhaps, after a while, it started to feel normal, the same way the constant noise had been normal, before.

  Ailis thought she might from now on always divide her life into Before and After.

  “You know how to wake them up?” Thomas asked anxiously.

  “Yes.”

  “We think so.” Ailis qualified Gerard’s claim.

  “You think?” Thomas’s voice broke on the last word, making Gerard realize suddenly that his hadn’t cracked in more than a day. Or was it two? He wasn’t sure. He knew exactly how many days had passed since they set out, but the details of what had occurred were beginning to blur.

  “Yes.” This time Gerard tried to sound more confident, but honesty compelled him to add, “We have to do it before midnight, though.”

  They found themselves outside the great wooden door of the Room. Gerard looked up, remembering the last time he had snuck in to sit at the Round Table, to pretend that he was a great knight home from a perilous quest.

  He had thought it would feel wonderful, satisfying.

  Mostly, it felt tired.

  “They’re in there,” Thomas said with a gesture of his hand. But he made no move to enter the Room.

  “All right.” Gerard turned to enter the Council Room, then stopped and clapped his fellow squire on the shoulder. “Thank you,” he said. “You’ve done well.”

  It should have felt odd or silly to say that to Thomas. Thomas should have taken offense, being spoken to that way by someone his own age. But he merely nodded, looked relieved, and stepped back.

  “Let’s do this,” Newt said, stepping forward to open the servant’s door as though he had gone through it a hundred times before. Ailis and Gerard looked at each other, both amused by Newt’s matter-of-fact confidence.

  “He was a dragon in another life,” Gerard said, only half-joking, and followed the stable boy into the Council Room.

  Ailis proceeded, only to step on Gerard’s heels. The two boys had stopped just inside the door.

  Arthur sat in his chair, upright, his hands flat on the table in front of him, the bare blade of Excalibur on the table under his fingers. His eyes were closed, as though he had somehow, impossibly, dozed off while hearing the advice of his knights.

  Around him, each in his chair, the chosen knights of Arthur’s council sat. Lancelot was to his right, Sir Kay directly across the table, Sir Owain and Sir Balin and Sir Marhaus in various poses of interest. Gerard shook his head slightly. Despite the situation, someone had clearly retained a sense of humor
when they arranged their masters in their chairs.

  “What are you staring at?” she asked.

  “They’re so…still.” Newt’s voice was hushed.

  “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know. Are you sure they’re still breathing?”

  “They are. Just…slowly,” Thomas said.

  The three turned, startled. Thomas had come in behind them after all. He, too, was staring at the Table, but it didn’t seem as though he was seeing the knights at all.

  “We check on them every day. Make sure they’re still sleeping. Dust them occasionally.” He smiled at Gerard weakly. “We took the king out on the walls, yesterday. In case anyone was watching—anyone unfriendly. It took four of us to move him, to make it look as though he was walking on his own.

  “Whatever you’re going to do,” he said losing his poor smile. “Do it. Now. We saw riders outside last night. We thought it was you, but they rode away.”

  “You think—” Ailis started, then stopped.

  Thomas looked at Ailis as though only now realizing that she was there. “I don’t want to think. I want my king awake to think.”

  Newt made a rude noise at that, and Ailis jabbed him in the side with her elbow. Now was not the time to antagonize anyone. Even if he was a fool.

  And where were the rest of the squires, anyway, she wondered. Were they all on the walls, guarding?

  Gerard took the talisman out of the saddlebag and walked toward the table, something drawing him to the area behind Arthur’s chair. Newt went to his left, Ailis to his right. Thomas watched, but stayed where he was. Gerard held the talisman out in front of him, and the other two each placed a hand on the glass, carefully not touching where the letters still glowed.

  “Ready?”

  “No,” Ailis said. Newt merely shook his head.

  “Right.”

  They each had studied the spell briefly, but it had been more important to get home than to learn the pronunciation of those foreign words. Besides, none of them had been willing to risk speaking the spell out loud, before it was time. They just had to trust Merlin. Again.