Milo and the Dragon Cross

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Milo and the Dragon Cross Page 34

by Robert Jesten Upton


  “Me ‘n Erisa ‘ll wait here for yuh,” Einter assured them. He held a card out to Milo. “Dame Renee told me to give yuh this.” Milo recognized the card she called The Wanderer. “Just to remind yuh to stay humble.”

  Tinburkin took Stigma, Analisa, Milo, and of course Raster into the Courthouse and up to the third floor. He sat them on a wooden bench outside the Council Chambers, then went inside. Soon he returned to call in Stigma. She was inside for a very long time. When she came out at last, she looked flustered, and gave no more than a tight smile before she hurried away.

  Analisa went next. By now, Milo was beginning to feel nervous, despite himself. Raster, who had come with them, but had gone exploring, came back and hopped up on the bench beside Milo. “Hey Boss!” he greeted. “Have you seen ‘em yet?”

  “No, not yet,” Milo replied, and gave the cat a pat.

  “What’s taking so long?”

  “I’ve no idea.”

  “Well, I’ll go see,” Raster said, and before Milo could stop him, he jumped down and dashed away down the hall.

  Moments ticked slowly away, mounting up into a longer and longer time. Raster came back. “They’re really grilling Analisa in there!” he reported. “She’s in tears. I thought about scratching a few of them, but decided I’d better tell you first.”

  “That was a good idea. But Analisa? In tears? What in the world are they asking her?”

  “Oh, stuff like where she was at such-and-such a time when so-and-so was going on, or why she did this or what happened next. Stuff like that.”

  “And it made her cry?”

  “Yeah. I think that’s because of how they asked. One question after another, real intense like. And detailed. For every answer she’s giving them, they ask ten more. I think maybe she’s getting confused.”

  That made Milo feel even more like he was waiting to be called into the assistant principal’s office (that had happened to him more than once).

  “Raster? How did you get in? I saw you go down the hall instead of into the door there.”

  “Oh, that’s because I went a different way,” Raster said, obviously pleased with his own ingenuity. “Down the hall there’s an open office. You go in there and out the open window. Then you walk the ledge that goes around the corner of the building. That takes you to the open window of the Council Chamber. I hopped down inside and hid under the table to watch for a while. You want me to take you there?”

  “No, I think I’ll just wait here,” Milo answered.

  “You think they’re going to get to you today? It’ll be suppertime soon.”

  “I don’t know, but I guess I’ll have to sit here until they call me. Why don’t you go down and find Einter and Erisa? They’ll see you get your supper.”

  That struck Raster as a good idea and he left. Milo was alone again. The butterflies he felt were getting more and more agitated. If the Council was as severe as they apparently were with Stigma and Analisa, it seemed hardly fair. On the other hand, after the adventures Milo had had, fair was not something he was wont to quibble about. What, he told himself, could these people’s questions mean to him after all he had been through? Why question his friends like that? He knew what he had done and what he had experienced. How dare they question that? What could they possibly do that mattered to him?

  Analisa came out. She wiped at her nose with her sleeve and her eyes were red. “Don’t let them bother you,” she warned quickly, and gave Milo a kiss on the cheek before she hurried away.

  Tinburkin came out. “Your turn,” he told Milo. “Go in there and be who you are.”

  Milo felt the butterflies surge into a swirling mass. He took a deep breath, the way Culebrant had taught him, and let them fly away. Then he went in.

  “Be seated,” Barenton said, his white beard wagging.

  Milo took the chair that faced the half circle of cloaked judges sitting in high-backed chairs behind a formal table. Tinburkin took a place off to one side. Milo looked the judges over one by one, recognizing the Mayor of Kingdom, but none of the rest.

  “You are the Thirteenth,” Barenton stated.

  Milo said nothing since it sounded more like an affirmed identity than a question.

  “Why did you decide to be the thirteenth contestant when you could have been the twelfth?” asked the Mayor.

  “I didn’t choose to be the thirteenth,” Milo answered. “I just let Analisa go ahead of me. Besides, why is that important?”

  The judges glanced at each other. “We will be the ones to ask the questions,” Barenton said in mild rebuke. “You just answer.”

  The questions came, one after the other. The judges seemed to know everything that had happened already: who he had met and what he had or they had done. It seemed to Milo that they were only checking his answers against theirs. Nor could he detect any order to the questions. They weren’t starting at the beginning and proceeding to the end. The questions came in random order, jumping all over the place. It really was confusing. To keep from getting all balled up, he began practicing the breathing methods from Culebrant, focusing on one thing at a time without feeling rushed. Basically, he let his mind go open, almost like he’d do to go into Dreaming.

  “Why did you choose to travel with the slinger players?” one judge would ask.

  “They were fun to travel with,” Milo would answer. Question closed. No wondering why they asked that or what they might want to know next. Open mind.

  “How were you able to interpret the script on the Dragon Cross?” the next question would be.

  “I didn’t. The librarian in Inverdissen did.” No more information. Answer complete. Mind open.

  “Why did you go to Rykirk?”

  “Because I was hungry.”

  Milo could have expanded any or all his answers, but decided there was no point. If they wanted to know more, they could ask.

  On and on it went. It got dark outside and someone came in unobtrusively to light the brackets of candles. Thinking of home, Milo considered what magic it was to simply flip a switch to have all the light you wanted.

  He was hungry. And tired. Besides, this was boring. He decided he’d had enough. “Listen,” he said, breaking off the next question without bothering to answer it. “This has gone on long enough. I’m sure you are all as ready to get your dinners as I am. We’re just going over things you already know. After what happened when I left the End of the Earth, I realized I’d gotten myself into something—I’m sure you all understand the meaning of that better than I do—that was much more than random puzzles I was inept at deciphering anyway. Since then I’ve had a number of...adventures that you’ve been asking me about over and over, though I’ve got no idea what you’re trying to get me to tell you. If I knew that, I’d be happy to tell you, because I’ve got no reason, absolutely none, to hide any of it. Admittedly, I don’t understand a lot of it. It seems there’s no one who understands my questions, or can give me the answers. But as I see it, I’ve done what I did, and now I’m really not interested in sitting here any longer. So I think we should stop. The interview is over.”

  He stood up, ignoring the surprised faces of the judges, and as he turned away, Raster dashed from under the table to rub against his leg. Milo scooped him up and went to the door.

  “Does this mean we can have supper now?” the cat asked hopefully.

  “Yeah. It’s time for supper.”

  Milo turned back to the judges. “Oh, by the way, I couldn’t have done any of the things I did—I wouldn’t even have survived to be here today—without the help of Boriboreau, this cat’s father. He was my loyal friend. He asked no more than a meal, if we could even find one. He was a wise and reliable counselor who was always there with the right advice at just the right time. He was the bravest and truest, and at the end the fiercest, warrior when the need arose. If you want to award someone with something, put up a monument in your square to your most distinguished native son, Boriboreau.”

  With that, he left.
Tinburkin gave him a wink.

  He found his friends with the whole group of contestants waiting at the corner restaurant. Einter, Erisa, Analisa, and Stigma. Count Yeroen was there with Aulaires, Lute, and Sarakka, and even the others, who had been captured by the Stone Knights. Tivik, Ali-Sembek, Braenach, Weidan, Vianna, and Obeah Reah. They were all sitting at tables pulled loosely together and cluttered with wine glasses and the remains of their dinners. They stood to greet him as he came in, slapping him on the shoulder, shaking his hand, or—if they were the female ones—giving him a kiss on the cheek. He blushed, but this time it wasn’t attributable to the effect that Aulaires’ costume had on him. The company had hardly taken up their places again when Tinburkin came out of the courthouse and joined them.

  “Well,” he said, raising the cup that Einter filled and handed him, “here’s to the conclusion of the 77th Magical Scavenger Hunt, and to its Thirteenth Contestant. May we remember it for as long as the Hunt is celebrated and its contestants come to seek its rewards.”

  All raised their cups to the toast. Stigma put one into Milo’s hand and Erisa poured Raster a saucer of gravy.

  “So.” Yeroen said. “It’s done, then?”

  “The judges agreed,” Tinburkin said. He glanced back and forth as he elaborated. “Not, of course, to declare a winner, because by now you all understand that that’s not the point of the Hunt. The Hunt is a Quest, and a quest is not a thing that can be won or lost, but a thing that must be performed. The judges agreed to pronounce this Hunt to be the last of the Old Cycle. Subsequent Hunts will be commemorative of this one, but in a new numbering system.”

  “Why?” Milo asked. “Why would this one change everything?”

  “Because all of the Hunts up until now have been predicated on problems left over from the Age of the Elementals,” Tinburkin explained. “But with the Pilgrimage reopened, the Portals explored, the Grail restored, and the Crane King relieved, the core issues of the past are resolved. Now the Hunt must turn its attention to exploring the possibilities of a New Age and the mysteries of a Restored Grail. You see, Milo, that’s what you accomplished. You vindicated the prophecy of the Thirteenth.”

  “And what is that?” Milo insisted. “What is it about being thirteenth? I don’t get it.”

  “Because in all this time,” Count Yeroen put in, “you were the first to be the thirteenth and final contestant. There have been twelve many times, and as many as seventeen, I believe.”

  Tinburkin nodded. “Yes, that was in the 46th Hunt.”

  “Thirteen can be a lucky number,” Yeroen continued, “or a bad thing that signifies destruction.”

  “It’s the number of this card,” Obeah Reah said, holding up a card very similar to the ones Milo had seen Dame Renee use. The one she was holding up was ominous, with the image of a cloaked death figure holding a scythe. “The Thirteenth card is called the Grim Reaper, and is greatly feared because it can signify death and destruction. But it can also signify the destruction of the old, giving way to new beginnings.”

  “Because I’m a witch,” Analisa put in, “people would expect me to bring on the negative meaning of thirteen, Death. Which could have overtaken any of us during the pursuit of this Hunt. Or it could have meant bad luck for the next decade, until the next Hunt takes place.”

  “But you changed that when you let Analisa go ahead of you,” Tinburkin told Milo. “You see, perhaps the most important thing you did, considering all the amazing things that you accomplished, was your first action. You usurped the place of the Thirteenth for yourself. That was an awesome act of Power.”

  “Well, I didn’t have any idea of what I was doing,” Milo grumped.

  “Which is the very reason it held such Power,” Einter explained. “Yuh did it out of spontaneous decency instead of calculatin’ yer magical advantage. The paradox is what’s kept the Old Order of the Hunt from doin’ just what yuh did. True magic’s from the heart, not with the head.”

  “It’s why each of us,” Aulaires said, glancing around the group for confirmation, “each of us in our own ways told the judges that you are our superior.”

  “Which they already realized, but which they had to document with a thorough deposition,” Tinburkin explained.

  Milo considered all this. Maybe he should have felt pride, but instead he felt weary. He thought instead of how much help he had gotten from so many others. And mostly, he thought of Bori. After that, there wasn’t much room for vanity.

  “What will you do now, Milo?” Erisa asked softly, and perhaps with unexpressed hope.

  “I...don’t really know,” he answered earnestly. “I really haven’t given it much thought. I think, most of all, I’d like to be just me, without all this important stuff and the expectations of other people hanging over me.”

  “May I quote you on that?”

  It was the reporter from the Odalese Observer, who popped out from behind a stack of tables where she had been eavesdropping, scribbling madly into her notebook.

  “What?” Milo asked in surprise.

  “What you just said,” the reported repeated. “That you plan to live as an obscure burger. Maybe you’d like for the City Council to award you a little farmstead on the edge of town where you can pursue your wizardly studies?”

  “No. That’s not it at all,” Milo insisted. “I just want to go home and be just me, Milo.” He had nervously begun to twiddle with the nickel in his pocket, and he now tapped its edge on the table top.

  “Is that the magical medallion of Count Abracadabracus I’ve heard about?” the reporter asked.

  “No,” Milo answered. “That’s the portrait of Thomas—

  “—Jefferson,” he said.

  “Very good, Milo!” Ms. Mayfield, his history teacher said. “And I thought you were daydreaming again instead of listening.”

  Milo blinked. He was in sixth period history class, and the square at The Kingdom of Odalese had vanished. He was staring at the nickel with Jefferson’s picture in three-quarter profile. He flipped it over. There was the image of a buffalo—an American bison—on the reverse.

  “Jefferson sent Lewis and Clark to explore the extent of the newly acquired Louisiana Purchase and to search for a passage to the Pacific Ocean,” he told his teacher.

  “That’s right, Milo,” she verified. “Does anyone know the name of the Native American guide who led Lewis and Clark across the continent?”

  Milo did, but he didn’t volunteer what he knew. Someone else in the class answered that one. Milo was considering the long journeys that Thomas Jefferson had instigated.

  The bell rang. Milo looked forward to seeing his own cat, Gracie, and his mom when he went home.

  Readers Guide

  1. This book features magic and mythical events. What is magic? What is imagination?

  2. How does the tension between the familiar and the fantastic play during the course of the story?

  3. How do the opinions of Milo’s teachers define him and his abilities?

  4. Bori, a cat, is a main character in the story. Although he speaks, does he still seem to be a cat?

  5. Milo repeatedly states that he doesn’t have a clue about what he should do. What does this reveal about him?

  6. What is the significance of the number “thirteen” to the story?

  7. Milo, who is fifteen, meets several adult men who become teachers and mentors to him. What about the adult women he meets? How is he affected by them?

  8. Milo develops friendships with several girls his age. How does he relate to them?

  9. Stars and constellations appear frequently during the development of the plot. What purpose do they serve?

  10. Tinburkin pops up at odd times throughout the story. What is his role?

  11. Milo is admonished to seek his own way. Does listening to the advice and information that others give him compromise his integrity?

  12. The Grail is a well-known symbol in Western literature, especially the King Arthur stories. What is
the meaning of the Grail Question?

  13. The Grail Ceremony appears in Chapter 4 and is repeated in Chapter 20. In what ways is the second one different from the first one?

  14. What does Blai’s spinning of light into yarn and Milo’s observations about the rainbow tell the reader about Milo and his quest?

  15. What is a pilgrimage? Must it always have a religious reason?

  16. Does the story that Deryl, Teryl, and Beryl tell seem a digression, or does it amplify the plot?

  17. What is slinger? What role does it have to the narration?

  18. Unfair play and vindictiveness arise during the slinger games in contrast to the game’s idealism and sportsmanship. How does this foreshadow events to come?

  19. Einter is an enigmatic figure. What do you think he represents?

  20. Renee is a card reader. How do her oracular warnings prepare the reader for what is to come?

  21. How does Milo’s dream conversation with the oak tree prepare him—and the reader—for future events?

  22. How does Musail mislead Milo?

  23. The story becomes more complex as the myths, legends, astronomy, and techniques Culebrant teaches Milo weave together. How does this challenge the reader’s attention?

  24. Culebrant warps time so Milo can accumulate all he must know to solve the mystery of the Dragon Cross. Why must Milo learn these skills?

  25. Culebrant impresses on Milo that he must make strategic choices that Milo feels are harsh and disturbing. What do you think?

  26. There is a huge shift in the story when Milo enters the Barrow. What are these changes?

  27. Each of the people who enter the Barrow has a piece of the puzzle to contribute. What does each one offer?

  28. Kayn Smith projects a mirror image of the ideals of the Magical Scavenger Hunt. In what way does this expand the perspective of the quest?

  29. Bori also undergoes a transformation. What previous clues suggest the possibility for this transformation?

 

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