by Julie Leung
Red turned to Galahad, a shocked look on his face. The carp was still writhing in pain, but the flow of energy had stopped, its life force suspended somewhere between it and Red.
“That’s it,” Morgan le Fay cried in excitement. “You can save it!”
But Red was not giving up without a fight. He redoubled the spell, and the flow of energy resumed. Galahad could almost see it now, a slender thread hanging in the air above the water. He tried to picture himself grabbing hold of it, pulling it away from Red. But Red was much stronger, and Galahad still did not know how this magic worked. The carp’s struggles were growing weaker.
“Use Excalibur!” Morgan called from the bridge.
Galahad tried to reach through the sword, the way he did when he talked with Calib. He focused all of his concentration on that thread, and as he did, he felt Excalibur come alive with energy.
The strength of it was amazing. Galahad had never felt so much power before. He was giddy with the thrill of it. It reminded him of the first time he realized he could speak with Calib, except ten times better.
With a wave of his hand, he broke the spell Red was casting. Red stumbled backward, shrieking, tripping over the uneven rocks as he fell. His face grew as white as parchment, and he let out a whimper of pain as his hands flew to his throat.
It was an odd reaction, but Galahad couldn’t think on it now. He had expected the thread of energy to vanish, but instead, he was shocked to find it flowing toward himself. He got a sense of something cold, wet, and powerful as the carp’s life force touched him. He shrank from it in revulsion, pulling his concentration away from Excalibur, and as suddenly as it had appeared, the power was gone.
Morgan’s sphere of water dissolved, and the carp returned to the river with an indignant splash. With a flick of its tail, it turned into the current, swimming away as fast as it could. Galahad breathed a sigh of relief, then braced himself to face the sorceress.
“Impressive,” Morgan said, her face impassive. “I believe I just learned a lot about you, Galahad.”
CHAPTER
28
With the discovery of Thomas and his siblings, Calib’s days of toiling in darkness grew a little more bearable. Thomas had a funny way of looking at the world, and could make any story—no matter how humdrum—interesting, almost bringing a smile to Calib’s face. No easy feat in the labyrinth of the Iron Mountains. In the hopes of avoiding suspicion, Calib and Cecily took turns sneaking food to the Saxons, but occasionally, like today, they both managed to sneak away together.
“Jasper’s messages are getting fewer and further between,” Cecily said, pacing Thomas’s cave. “If we wait too much longer, we will lose any opportunity we had to fight. We’ll be too hungry to even lift a paw.”
“Shh,” Calib said as he took a rock from Rosy’s collection and placed it on top of a tall tower of pebbles he and the young Saxons were building.
“Careful,” Silas warned. “You don’t want to— Whoops!”
The young weasel’s tail had begun to whip back and forth with his excitement and accidentally knocked down the whole tower.
“Again!” Rosy cried, delighted with the game, and Calib smiled at them. They were really no different than the mouslings at Camelot.
“You’ll have a hard time convincing Leftie to take action,” Calib said to Cecily, picking up a pebble and beginning again. “Nothing has changed in our favor. . . .”
“Could you send a message to that Two-Legger?” Thomas asked as he carefully sorted the remaining food. Calib noticed that two portions were much larger than the third.
“I don’t see how,” Calib said. “I haven’t seen him since we got separated when we first arrived. I wish we could, though. It would be a different story if we had Excalibur or the mirror, much less the Grail.”
Cecily scowled at her paws. “I hate feeling helpless,” she said. “What’s the use of training to be a knight when you can’t do anything to help?”
Thomas stood and handed Cecily a long, thin root. “Show me again some of your fencing tricks?” With a tight nod, Cecily stood, and the two began to fence.
Calib carefully placed another pebble on the tower. In the dim light of Thomas’s flickering torch, it seemed to sparkle a light blue, as if it were a bit of crystal in the sea. Calib blinked, then quickly plucked the pebble from the tower.
“Hey!” Rosy protested.
“One second,” Calib said as he burnished the pebble against his fur to remove its thin layer of dust. His whiskers twitched. Holding the pebble up to the torchlight, he gasped. Now he was certain. It was a bit of blue rock that looked just like Merlin’s Crystal. It was the same color of magic.
“Rosy, where did you get this rock?” he asked, trying to stay calm and not alarm the little Saxon kit.
“Thomas found it,” she said, and sucked her paw.
“Thomas?” Calib said. “Where did you get this?”
Thomas and Cecily lowered their roots and came over. Cecily’s eyes widened. “Is that—?”
“I think so,” Calib said, heart pounding. “I think we might finally know why the Manderlean has creatures mining the mountains. They’re looking for magic crystals!”
“Magic crystals?” Thomas scrunched his snout skeptically and shrugged. “It’s pretty, though, and I remember I found it at an entrance to one of the lower tunnels.”
“Do you remember which one?” Calib asked.
“Yes,” Thomas said promptly. “Do you want me to show you?”
After making sure Silas and Rosy understood that they were to stay put in the cave, Calib, Cecily, and Thomas inched down a tunnel, ducking to avoid scraping their ears on the ceiling. Calib led the way. Thomas, who was taller than the mice by about four inches, had to crawl on all fours. Cecily brought up the rear. Their torches gave off enough heat to make Calib sweat, but he barely noticed.
His whiskers were jumpy again.
The whiskers on the right side of his snout tingled, pulling him forward. It was a very familiar sensation, and it continued to grow stronger, even when Thomas stopped them outside the mouth of a new tunnel. Far below, Calib thought he could detect the faintest blue glow, as if it were distant starlight.
“What does that rune mean?” Calib pointed up, where someone had carved a peculiar creature above the tunnel’s entrance. From where he stood, the rune looked almost like two webbed wings sprouting forth from a rounded body.
“It says ‘beware,’” Thomas said in a hushed voice.
Cecily’s fur rose. “You mean out of all the hundreds of tunnels down here, we have to go into the one with a warning?”
“There’s definitely something down there,” Calib said, gripping his whiskers with both paws now to keep them from shaking.
“What is it?” Cecily asked.
“Magic,” Calib said.
“Do you have the Sight?” Thomas asked. “Do you know what’s going to happen in the future?” From his tone, Calib could tell Thomas had been mulling over this ever since Calib had told them about his magically attuned whiskers.
“No, I don’t.” Calib touched his snout self-consciously. “I can only sense if there’s magic around, but I can’t do anything with the magic—I don’t think. Let’s go.”
They passed another engraving of a winged creature, this one more sinister and detailed than the last, with scales and a forked tongue. It reminded Calib slightly of the gargoyles on Camelot’s roof. But it reminded him even more of . . . Calib shook his head. He didn’t want to think it.
But someone else already had.
“Wait a moment,” Thomas called from behind. “This engraving . . . It looks like a dragon.”
“Dragons don’t exist,” Cecily said coolly. Calib heard a scraping sound as Cecily marked the wall with chalk. “There’s no historical proof.”
“That’s not true,” Thomas said. “In Saxony, we found the skeleton of a great beast. It was taller than five Two-Leggers standing one on top of the other! It is said tha
t the land was once infested with great wyrms that ate magic stones and breathed fire.”
Calib’s fur prickled, but he couldn’t tell if that was from Thomas’s words or just the drifting magic in the air. “What happened to them?” he asked.
“A great wizard chased them into the mountains, where they were forced to hide from the rest of humanity,” Thomas said. “Or so legend has it.”
“We share a similar story in Camelot,” Calib said, surprised. “When Merlin was young, he stopped two dragons who were fighting and banished them to the Iron Mountains.”
“Who’s Merlin?” Thomas asked.
Calib opened his mouth to explain, but caught a mouthful of spiderwebs instead. Even though he had the torch, Calib kept walking into the sticky nets and tripping over rocks. Only the blue glow ahead of him gave Calib any sign that they were going in the right direction. And it was growing brighter.
“A great wizard,” Cecily murmured. “And an even better wolf. But be that as it may, most real scholars agree that it’s just made-up.”
“Do the Saxons still believe in dragons?” Calib asked.
“Of course,” Thomas said, sounding surprised. “Isn’t that why the mountains here have so many holes inside? No Two-Legger or creature could have made so many tunnels and disappeared without a trace. It would have taken forever!”
“Pish,” Cecily sniffed. “I’ll believe in dragons when I see one with my own two eyes. Let’s keep going.”
The magic was now so thick in the air that Calib’s whiskers began to ache and sting, as if something was yanking at each individual hair. Invisible tendrils of magic eddied around his paws and clung to his fur. He could feel it permeate the air, filling his lungs, making it hard to breathe.
A sense of foreboding wrapped around him—heavy and gut-wrenching. This place was protected by magic far stronger than anything Morgan could conjure. This was old magic, the kind that ruled the world before man or beast ever roamed it.
But as they walked into a larger cavern, the feeling of dread lifted as suddenly as it had come. In its place was wonder.
Because in this cavern, the rock wasn’t dense and thick. It was lined with crystals, dangling from above like chandeliers. They were as wide as tree trunks and glowed blue, the same as Merlin’s Cave and Avalon’s lake. It was a color Calib now recognized as the presence of raw magic. Each was an identical copy of Merlin’s Crystal—the same one that had unlocked Excalibur from the stone.
“This is incredible!” Thomas cried, his jaw open. He spun around with a torch.
“I think this is where Merlin’s Crystal must have come from!” Calib exclaimed.
The light seemed to pulse in agreement.
“This is definitely what the Manderlean is digging for,” Cecily said, letting out a low whistle. “If that one little crystal was able to unlock Excalibur and give Galahad such powers, imagine what this could do.”
Cecily gestured at the largest crystal, which was as big as a Two-Legger carriage. Calib could see right through it.
“But somebody must have carved out this tunnel,” Thomas said, puzzled. “Why did they leave it all here?”
“I don’t know,” Calib said, looking up. “But I’m beginning to think that Thomas may be right about dragons.” He pointed to the ceiling, where deep slash marks in the stone looked like the work of some very lethal claws. “What do you think, Cecily?”
Cecily’s eyes widened as she looked past Calib’s shoulder.
“C-Calib, now, I need you to remain calm. . . .”
“What?” Calib asked, turning around.
There, behind him, were the glowing eyes of a dragon.
CHAPTER
29
“Who dares disturb the Dragon of the Iron Mountains from its slumber!” the dragon thundered. A shower of dust and grit clattered down around them. “Who intrudes upon my sacred lair!”
Calib clapped his paws to his ears and squeezed his eyes shut as the dragon’s large wings swept up and extended in a frightful display. His heart lodged in his throat as he ducked to avoid being hit by a wing.
“We meant no harm by it, Your Dragon-ness, sir!” Thomas pleaded, trembling from nose to tail. He bowed so low that his snout touched the ground. “We’re just trying to find our way out of the mountains!”
“None shall live who enter our—I mean, MY domain!” The dragon’s eyes burned bright blue. “Run before I kill you!”
Calib was prepared to turn tail and sprint when he felt Cecily brush against him.
“Buy me time,” she murmured into his ear, and then she slunk away, tail whipping out of sight. Calib almost laughed from sheer nervousness. Sure, he would distract a dragon. What could go wrong? Drawing from the thin reserve of courage that once allowed him to speak to the owls, Calib stepped forward.
“Wait but a moment, oh great dragon!” Calib proclaimed. “You don’t want to kill us yet!” He kept his eyes averted. He was too afraid to look at the blue pupils directly, lest he lose his courage entirely.
The dragon tilted its massive head. “And why not?”
“Because . . . because I have a lot of questions!” Calib wanted to kick himself.
“We don’t have time to give you answers!”
Thomas let out a whimper.
“Well, we might have useful answers for you!” Calib said, not thinking beforehand of what he’d say, just letting the words come as they did. “Don’t you want to know why your mountains has been invaded by Saxon weasels?”
“We know that answer,” the dragon roared. “It’s because of that witch!”
“Yes,” Calib said hastily. “But we can help you get rid of her!”
The dragon blinked.
“You know how to get rid of the witch?” it inquired.
“Um, yes.” Calib scrambled to come up with something convincing to say. It wasn’t a complete lie, really. He imagined once he got Merlin’s treasures into Galahad’s hands, it would all work out somehow. His pulse quickened as the dragon’s face scrunched up in annoyance.
“Liar,” it spat. “And thief! You’re not here to help; you’re here to take the crystals!”
“We’re not lying,” Calib insisted. “We’re here to help you fight the Saxons! We’re from Camelot! Please believe me,” he implored. He hoped that whatever Cecily was up to, she’d do it quick. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could distract the dragon before he became a mouse-sized snack.
The dragon snarled, then opened its mouth wide. “I don’t talk to liars and thieves—I roast them.”
The cavern suddenly turned hot, and Calib could feel the heat build in the dragon’s chest. Calib flinched, throwing his arms over his face, expecting to turn into blackened char at any second.
Instead, a curtain of water flew at the dragon’s face.
The creature tried to dodge it, but it was too slow. Water splashed across its snout . . . and then slowly, the dragon disintegrated.
It crumbled into hundreds of tiny black dots. No, not dots—flying creatures!
In place of the dragon was a squadron of flying armored creatures resembling mice, but with thin, webbed wings where their arms should be. They flew in a tight, coordinated formation, maneuvering as one entity. The slight aftertaste of magic permeated the air. Most of the beasts were in a state of shock. Many of them were drenched from the bucket of water Cecily had splashed on them.
“I knew it!” Cecily said triumphantly, still clutching the miner’s bucket she had procured from somewhere. “You’re not a dragon at all—you’re an illusion. You’re just a colony of bats!”
So that’s what they were. Calib had never seen bats in real life before. He’d once read about them in Creatures of the Night by Sir Tromley Botswell, a knight in his great-grandfather’s service who used his insomnia to research other nocturnal animals. Rumor had it, Sir Tromley was practically a bat himself, only without the wings. People started calling him Batswell after he started sleeping upside down in the aviary.
“You lot have some explaining to do!” Cecily said crossly.
“We don’t have to explain anything to clumsy groundbeasts!” said one of the bats.
“Excuse me?” Cecily asked, crossing her arms.
“I think he means us,” Thomas whispered. “Groundbeasts probably mean any creature who doesn’t fly.”
“Yes, I got that,” snapped Cecily. “Now, listen here, I don’t care for your tone—”
“We come from Camelot,” Calib interrupted loudly, stepping forward to address the bats. He wondered if perhaps he should have brought a feather offering like they’d once had to do with the owls. Except bats didn’t have feathers. He tried to imagine how his father or grandfather might address these creatures in a proper, friendly fashion. “We are here to rid the land of the Saxon scourge!”
“Ech-hem, but not all Saxons mind you,” Thomas piped up. “Some of us are here against our will.”
“Right, not all Saxons,” Calib agreed. Again, he addressed the bats. “Surely you wouldn’t mind having the mountains back to yourselves again?”
They seemed to confer. After a moment, most of the bats peeled off from the main body, row by row, and flew to their roosts in the cave ceiling. Calib could see that what he’d thought were claw marks in the ceiling were actually little ridges where the bats could grip and dangle.
Two bats, however, flew down to the three adventurers. As they came closer, Calib could see that they wore colorful neck ruffles. They swooped to a low ridge, then hung upside down, putting them at eye level with Calib and the others. The rest of the squadron looked on intently from above.
“If you’re from Camelot,” one of the bats said, “then tell me this: What is the motto that unites all its creatures?”
“Together in paw and tail, lest divided we fall and fail,” Calib said. “Easy.”
“What are the qualities of a Camelot knight?”
“Bravery, strength, and wisdom!” Cecily chimed in.
“And who is the rightful ruler of Britain?”