Milo and the Dragon Cross

by Robert Jesten Upton

  “Keep yer eye on that ridge ahead up there,” Einter called from his seat on the box. “If we get a break in the cloud so the sun can shine through, yer ought to get a sight of the Glass Tower just about there.”

  “How does he know that stuff?” Analisa asked her friends.

  Milo told Stigma and Analisa—Raster was rolled up into a cozy ball in the blankets inside the cart—about Einter’s friends, Dame Renee with her cards, and Samuel, the Ogmanian librarian.

  “There it is,” Stigma asserted. “If he’s linked with people like that, he’s just not your average tradesman.”

  Milo decided to climb up on the box alongside Einter. If the man was really what Stigma had suggested he was, perhaps he could tell Milo something that had been bothering him for a long time.

  “Einter? Do you know anything about the Stone Kinghts?”

  Einter shrugged. “Oh, I’ve heard of ‘em all right. Old legends. My Pap told me that his pap—my granpappy—told him somethin’ about ‘em. Said they was an elite guard that paid a terrible price to save the Oak King back in the Elemental Wars.”

  He stopped talking to stick his pinky in his ear and give it a good scratch. “Those was terrible times, I guess, with everybody fightin’ everybody else. For all their good intentions, the Oak King’s Guard got mixed up in the squabble an’ the price they paid was to be isolated up there in the Valley of the Stone Knights, turned into stone but still fightin’ anybody what showed up. It’s what happens when trust is lost.”

  Milo climbed down from the box to walk by himself, considering what Einter had told him. What had happened to the other contestants, then, was sort of the same fate that had befallen the Stone Knights: lies and mistrust had lured them into a fatal trap.

  Sure enough, an hour later the clouds began to lift and the sun stabbed through with a single ray against the ridge ahead. A flash of reflected light revealed the tall, still distant needle of crystal.

  “The Glass Tower,” Stigma whispered in wonder.

  “What do you think?” Analisa ventured. “Should I take a flight to see what might be around it?”

  “That might be a mistake,” Stigma said. “If Kayn is around watching for us, he might see you and you wouldn’t see him. I think I better go invisible and scout out who might be around.”

  It was agreed, and Stigma was off, leaving behind her pile of clothes. Milo shivered just thinking about how she could endure the weather, even if she said that her magic protected her.

  Milo was studying the terrain, trying to figure out where the Crane Castle might lie in relation to the Tower. “What do you think, Einter?” he asked. He was testing directions from his memory, but it seemed so very long ago since he had been there that it was like viewing the memories of a different person. “Is the Crane Castle in the valley on the other side of the ridge?”

  “Could be. That is, if it lets yuh find it. Then it could be on the other side of that ridge there.”

  Milo was trying to remember himself from back then. He had been so young, so innocent! He was overcome by an upswell of compassion, and the desire to protect that Milo-that-had-been from all the hurt that was to come.

  “‘Member what Renee told yuh,” Einter admonished, as if reading Milo’s thoughts. “Nobel Purpose. Beware not to let pity or hate, or let fear corrupt yer image of that card.”

  They pushed on until early afternoon. Cloud and ground fog had obscured the ridge, but by the slope and rockiness of the road, they had to be nearing the pass. Stigma reappeared from the cart, dressed in the clothes she had left there.

  “Nothing. I saw the Glass Tower, but it looks abandoned. No one anywhere to be seen, or any sign that anyone has been there in a century.”

  “There’ll be snow soon,” Milo commented. “Fresh snow could either reveal our tracks if we walk over it, or hide them if we make them before it falls. What do you think, Einter? Should we push on as fast as we can to get onto the other side of the ridge before it starts?”

  “The brothers won’t go any faster than they’re likely to go. But it might not be a bad plan for the three of you to arrive at the Castle before me. Raster can stay on with me, an’ we’ll get there when we get there.”

  Milo nodded in agreement, hiding the sudden spike of energy that shot through him. Fear, anticipation, and an odd sort of eagerness that the moment had, at last, arrived. He hauled his rucksack out of the cart, packed with the few things he owned without really knowing why he should. He felt his chest, checking the lump of the cross beneath his shirt. Analisa and Stigma watched him without comment, or question. “Okay,” he told them. “Let’s rock and roll.”

  22

  Rock ‘n Roll

  What did you mean?” Analisa asked as they set off, with Milo in the lead. “Rock and...?”

  “Roll,” Milo completed. “It’s nothing. Just a saying where I come from. It means, ‘Let’s get down to business,’ or ‘Let’s do this thing!’ You’d say it when you finally start off to do something that’s been hanging over you that you dread. Like now.”

  They moved quickly along the rocky, snow-rimmed trail, avoiding making any unnecessary noise but still choosing speed over stealth.

  “Kayn’ll sense us well before he can hear us,” Stigma had pointed out. “He’s much too skilled a wizard to let anyone sneak up on him.”

  Milo had considered trying to find Kayn using Dreaming, but decided that acting right away, now that he knew, more or less, how close they were to Crane Castle, was more important than the delay it would cause going into Dreaming. Besides, he felt too keyed up to achieve the degree of focus it took to enter that state.

  They crossed the ridge and began to drop down into the valley beyond. The woods rapidly thickened and became gloomier. The snow turned into dripping dampness and the sharp edge of frost felt heavy and clinging.

  Although there were no clear landmarks that he could recognize as the slope eased into flat ground and became more and more marshy, a kind of familiarity reassured Milo that he was headed in the right direction. “We’re almost there,” he said softly. “Stay together now and stay sharp.”

  This last was hardly necessary. The three of them were almost huddled together, trying to peer in every direction at once as they walked along.

  Evening mists had begun to rise and make white patches among the spooky shapes of the cypress and willows that surrounded them. The ground was squishy beneath their feet. “There!” Milo said suddenly. They stopped. Only a short distance away, through the shredded mist, they saw the outlines of battlements fragmented by the tendrils of fog that drifted and shifted their forms. “It’s the castle.”

  Vague outlines turned into solid reality as they moved closer, and details appeared to reveal a formidable castle wall. They began circling until they came to a postern with a tower above a shut gate. Its heavy oaken timbers were mossy and dark with age. Wrought iron bolts studded it, announcing its thick strength. They crossed the bridge that protected it, and found the outline of a smaller, human-sized door set in the larger gate. It had a closed peek-through and an iron knocker. Milo gave it several raps. The harsh sound was startling in the muffled silence, and the three of them waited nervously in anticipation.

  A scrape announced the opening of the peek-through and an eye looked out. “Who seeks entry?” a hostile voice demanded.

  “Travelers,” Milo replied. “Seeking the hospitality of Yule.”

  The peek-through slammed shut. More sounds from inside. Iron hinges groaned and the door squealed as it opened. A porter, recognizable from the same squinty eye, looked them over.

  “Travelers, huh?” he commented, more to himself than in greeting. “Well, come in then. We don’t get many travelers here. You’ll have to wait while I fetch the seneschal.”

  “You mean Cedric?” Milo asked coyly.

  The porter gave him a curious look, but said nothing as he retreated deeper into the castle.

  “Who’s Cedric?” Stigma asked.

  �
��The seneschal. I met him when I was here before. I was hoping that by using his name, I might get the porter to be a little more welcoming. I guess not.”

  They took seats on the stone bench along the sides of the passage. It was intensely cold, as if it had never been warm. Luckily, they didn’t wait long before footsteps clattered on cobbles and Cedric, with the porter in tow, came under the arch of the gate.

  “Young Milo?” he asked with surprise. “Is that you?”

  “Yes, Sir, it is,” Milo answered. “Here with two friends to ask for Yule hospitality.”

  “Why, of course!” Cedric welcomed, and turned to the porter. “Go tell the King and Queen that we have guests. Tell them that it’s Milo, the Catcher of the Salmon, with two friends.”

  The porter had just scurried away when a new knock came at the door. Cedric opened the peek-through to see who was there. “Why, it’s Einter, the Tinker!” he exclaimed and began unbarring the whole gate. Milo lent a hand to slide back the heavy oak beam that barred the double gate.

  “The greetin’s of Yule to yuh!” Einter exclaimed and gave the oxen a snap with his whip to move them into the opened gate.

  “Welcome to you, Friend!” Cedric greeted and helped to tug on the other side of the oxen’s yoke. The cart creaked and clattered into and through the gate, passing all the way into the courtyard beyond. Cedric and Milo reclosed the gate and set the beam back into its brackets.

  “Milo! Stigma and Analisa! Glad to see yuh!” Einter exclaimed. “How’d yuh come to be here?”

  “Just arrived,” Cedric told him. “We haven’t even had a chance for introductions yet, though I see you know them. Milo we know from a...an earlier occasion.”

  Milo felt uneasy. How did Einter get here so fast?

  “Come!” Cedric told them. “Come all you guests to the King’s Great Hall. I’ll send the porter back to take care of your oxen. You must be chilled to the bone on a raw day like this.”

  “Nothin’ a jug of ale can’t cure,” Einter grinned and fell in beside Cedric, leaving Milo and the two women to follow behind.

  “Where’s Raster?” Milo asked Einter, but he either didn’t hear the question, or ignored it as he fell into conversation with Cedric about the weather, the condition of the roads, and the health of the castle’s inhabitants.

  “Something’s not right,” Milo whispered to his companions. “I’ve never seen Einter touch his oxen with his whip.”

  “Doesn’t Einter always yoke Senster on the left and Dexter on the right?” Analisa whispered back.

  “That’s right!” Stigma agreed. “But they’re not that way now.”

  “And where’s Raster?” Milo hissed. “He should be here.”

  “What do we do?” Analisa asked.

  They were climbing stairs out of the courtyard that led to tall doors in a high vaulted stone building. Cedric threw open one of the doors and Milo recognized the Great Hall. It gave off a sigh of cold, musty air. It was dim inside. Milo could see the shapes of people rushing about, clearing and straightening, and setting a fire alight in the enormous fireplace, as large as a whole room, at one side of the Hall. Just as the flames took and light began to seep into the Hall, Alerik and his wife Ayuthaya came down a low set of steps where the King’s dais was at the rear of the Hall. He shuffled painfully, supported on Ayuthaya’s arm.

  “Einter! Milo! Welcome!” he called in a thin, weak voice that was, none-the-less, glad, despite his decrepitude. More people were filtering into the hall and servants were lighting banks of candles, bringing the Hall into life.

  The company arrived before the king and queen. “Yule greetings,” Milo offered. “These are my friends and traveling companions,” he said. “Stigma and Analisa.”

  “Welcome, ladies,” Alerik offered with a gesture that passed for the bow he couldn’t make. As the introduction continued, Milo sneaked a sidewise glance at Einter. He was looking away and paying no attention to Milo or any of the others, as if looking for something in the rafters. No, Milo decided. He would not know where Raster was. People flowed into the Great Hall now, finding places at the tables that were being set by servants. The fire was blazing up and beginning to bite into the massive Yule log that formed the center of the fire. Warmth rolled into the Hall and the glow from the fire and the banks of candles drove the miserable darkness back into the recesses of the high, beamed ceiling.

  “Come, friends!” Alerik said, shuffling painfully back up toward the dais where he took his place. Ayuthaya took a blanket from a hand maiden to wrap around her husband’s waist and legs, gently arranging it to warm and support him as he sat.

  Now Erisa came dashing in. She wrapped her arms around Milo to hug him as she kissed both his cheeks. “Oh, Milo!” she almost squealed. “What a wonderful surprise! And Einter!” She stood on tiptoes to buss his cheeks, too.

  “I...I’m glad to be back,” Milo said, somehow unsettled to see her kissing Einter. He wanted to speak with Analisa and Stigma privately, but there was no way. Instead, he introduced them to Erisa. “She’s the King and Queen’s daughter,” he said, feeling clumsy. “She was...very helpful to me when I came my first time.”

  “Then thank you so much for your care of Milo,” Analisa said, taking Erisa’s hand in hers in the most earnest way. Too earnest, Milo noted. Behind Erisa’s back, Milo rolled his eyes at Stigma, who grinned at Analisa’s performance.

  “Er...Erisa?” Milo said to the princess quietly. “Is there...could we get away for a moment? I don’t want to make a scene of it, but I...we”—and he indicated Stigma and Analisa—”need to speak with you privately.”

  Erisa’s expression showed that she had gone on alert. “Yes. I can do that. I’ll tell them that the three of you would like to freshen up a bit.”

  As she went to her father to whisper in his ear, Milo exchanged glances with his companions.

  “Of course,” Alerik told Erisa. “But please be brief. As soon as everyone arrives, we should hold...the service.”

  Einter was watching them very carefully now, looking directly at them for the first time since his arrival. As soon as Erisa had led them out of the hall and into a quiet corner, Milo spoke up.

  “Something’s not right,” he said, speaking to Erisa but glancing to his two companions for confirmation.

  “No. It’s not,” Stigma agreed as Erisa looked puzzled. “That’s not Einter. I know he looks like Einter, but we know him. We traveled with him to come here, and something’s not right about who is in the Hall with your parents.”

  “He doesn’t feel right,” Analisa added. “Einter is...I can’t describe it...unreadable. This person gives off an aura of...discord.”

  “I think I know who it is,” Stigma offered.

  “Yeah,” Milo agreed. “I do, too.”

  “What do you mean?” Erisa questioned. “Of course it’s Einter. He comes at least once a year. We all look forward to his visits. He brings us word of what’s happening out there”—her words carried a special stress of significance—”and we don’t see many people from outside. You’re the only one in...a long time, Milo.”

  “Well, we know Einter, too, and that person isn’t him,” Milo insisted.

  “Who is it, then?” Erisa demanded.

  “It’s...it’s someone who’s been hunting us,” Milo explained. “A very dangerous person. He must have seen us and Einter, who really is on his way here, but the real Einter couldn’t possibly have arrived yet. I think he’s disguised himself as Einter, knowing that you would let him in.”

  “Milo, not just anybody can come here,” Erisa stated. “In fact, only very special people can come here. We’re under an...enchantment, that separates us from the rest of the world. From outside, we don’t even exist, except for those special people who...who the enchantment allows in.”

  “Like Einter?” Milo questioned.

  “Well, Einter is...an exception. He’s unaffected by the enchantment, and maybe, from any enchantment. So he can come and go as he likes,
just as if we were part of the regular world.”

  “What about my two friends here?” Milo asked. “Stigma and Analisa?”

  Erisa looked at them and shook her head. “They couldn’t get here normally, but because they came with you, they could arrive.”

  “Then, if someone came just as I was coming, couldn’t he get in as well?” Milo pressed, continuing his progression of logic.

  “I...well, I guess so.”

  “Then we brought a terrible person into Crane Castle with us,” Milo told her. “You—and we—are in very serious danger. The man disguised as Einter is actually a very powerful wizard who wants something, something I’ve come here to bring. He’ll hurt anybody that gets in his way. What can we do? We’ve got to let your father know about the treachery, and the danger!”

  “It’s too late for that.” Lady Ayuthaya stepped into sight from around the corner that had hidden the young people. “You’re right, Milo. That isn’t Einter. And you’re right, too, young lady,”—turning to Analisa. “He doesn’t have Einter’s aura, and I know whose aura it is. Erisa, daughter dear, that man is Kayn.”

  Erisa blanched. “Kayn?” she barely whispered. “Father’s banished brother?”

  “Yes,” Ayuthaya answered. She held up her hand to stop the questions erupting from all four. “Say nothing. We must go back in. The ceremony must proceed. It’s the ultimate priority.”

  Erisa nodded, if only slightly recovered from the shock. The four of them filed back into the Hall behind the Queen.

  The Hall was filling with the other residents of the castle. Alerik sat alone at the table on the dais. “Where is Einter?” Ayuthaya asked him, her alarm showing only to the four who shared her secret.

  “Oh, he stepped away as well. I dare say he hardly seems himself tonight,” Alerik commented innocently.

  As they took their seats, and as Erisa left by way of a side door, Milo saw the porter hurrying into the Hall to whisper into Cedric’s ear. Cedric sent him away and came immediately up to the King’s table.