James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper jp-1

by G. Norman Lippert

  “An unfortunate cost,” he said, moving deeper into the cavern. “The one-way stone is rather unforgiving. My rune-warnings are rather less effective now than they were a few centuries ago.”

  “You made warnings for the birds and rats?” James asked.

  Merlin looked back at him. “Of course, Mr. Potter. The creatures do not enter to thieve, but merely for shelter and food. I embedded a Hex of Dread in the stone of this place. It told their small minds that there was no good thing to be found here, and to stay away. I underestimated the longevity of those hexes however. I am not happy to be responsible for the loss of these creatures. I will repay the earth for their sacrifice.”

  “What do you mean by ‘one-way stone’?” James asked, but as he turned back toward the doorway, he saw for himself. The entry was gone, replaced by rough, seamless rock. By all appearances, James and Merlin were trapped inside a sealed cave. He shuddered and hugged himself, glancing around the dark, craggy space. Something caught his eye.

  “Er,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm, “that’s not the bones of a bird or a rat, is it?”

  Merlin followed James’ gaze and saw the human skeleton leaning against a dark alcove. The skeleton was draped with the remains of rough armor. A rusted sword lay near the skeleton’s hand.

  “I wouldn’t get too close, Mr. Potter,” Merlin warned mildly as James took a step nearer the skeleton, morbidly fascinated.

  “Wow,” James breathed, “there are still rings on the fingers. And hair on the skull. Gah, there’s the remains of a mustache! Who do you think—”

  The skeleton suddenly lunged forward, throwing up its arms and waving the remains of the decrepit sword. James leapt backwards, tumbling into Merlin.

  “Avaunt!” the skeleton cried, waving its arms and swiveling its head. “Reveal yourself lest I run you through for sport!”

  “It’s all right, James,” Merlin said wryly, helping James get his feet under him. “Just stay back from it.” Then, to the skeleton, he said, “You cannot see us because you have no eyes, Farrigan.”

  “Merlinus!” the skeleton cried. “Where are you, you devil’s son? How dare you trap me?”

  “How dare you breach my boundary and attempt to steal my cache, my old friend?”

  “Friend, pah!” the skeleton spat. Its jawbone squeaked as it spoke. “You were quit of the world. Dead! What good was it to you?”

  “You hoped I was dead, but you knew otherwise. My cache was bequeathed to no one but me, either way. Austramaddux made you well aware of that.”

  “Austramaddux is a mongrel cur,” the skeleton of Farrigan growled. “I’ll put his head on my wall for this trickery. And what mean you that I have no eyes? It is merely dark. Light your staff if you are Merlinus, curse you.”

  Merlin looked at James, his eyes hard. “He will be released from his bond to this world when we leave. It was part of the curse of anyone who dared breach this place that they should remain until my return. Now that that time is come, the curse will end. Can you bear to wait with him? He is quite harmless as long as you keep your distance.”

  James looked at the skeleton. It lolled against the wall, working to pull its leg bones together and make them work. It muttered squeakily to itself. James swallowed.

  “Yeah, I guess. How long will you be?”

  “Mere minutes,” Merlin replied, then he raised his voice. “Miss Weasley, can you hear me?”

  Rose’s voice came through the invisible entrance clearly. “I’m right here. I’m looking right at you through the door. What’s going on in there?”

  “Nothing consequential. Can you direct the Occido Beam now? The waning sunlight should be finding its way through a large crack to the left of the cave mouth.”

  James heard Rose’s footsteps as she walked away. A moment later, a narrow beam of sunlight speared the dusty air of the cavern, penetrating the one-way stone of the doorway.

  “Very good, Miss Weasley,” Merlin said. “Up just a bit, please.”

  The beam of sunlight pierced the depths of the cave. It bobbed and roamed as Merlin directed Rose, carefully aligning the beam. Finally, it lit upon a shiny burnished symbol embedded in a far distant wall. It flared brightly and suddenly, amazingly, a long golden cord dropped out of the beam of sunlight.

  “Thank you, Miss Weasley,” Merlin called, reaching to collect the end of the cord. “You have done exceptionally well. Whatever you or Mr. Deedle do from this point on, under no circumstances should you enter the cavern, regardless of what you hear.”

  James felt a chill as Merlin turned to him.

  “Your duty is very simple, Mr. Potter, but absolutely essential. You must hold the end of this cord.”

  James took the cord in his hands as Merlin handed it to him. It was thin, finely woven from bright golden threads. “All I have to do is hold it?”

  Merlin nodded, maintaining eye contact with James. “But be sure, James Potter, as long as you hold this cord, you hold my life in your hands. You cannot let go for any reason until I return. Do you understand?”

  James frowned, puzzled. He nodded. Without another word, Merlin turned and walked into the dimmer recesses of the cave, holding his staff ahead of him. The cave was apparently rather deeper than James had initially believed. As the wizard strode slowly away, his staff illuminated a much larger cavern connected to the one James stood in. The floor was very dark, nearly black. Strangely, Merlin was walking on the golden cord, placing each foot carefully on its length. The cord stretched into the depths of the cavern, disappearing into darkness. With a start, James saw that the floor of the larger cavern was not simply dark, as he had initially thought. It wasn’t there at all. Merlin was walking on the cord alone, suspended over an apparently bottomless abyss.

  There was a dry chuffing sound and James glanced over at the skeleton. It appeared to be laughing.

  “Off to get his treasures, is he?” it said. “Left you in the lurch, methinks. Favor me with your name, oh demon.”

  “I’m not a demon,” James said. “My name is James.”

  “Ah, a great name, that is. Tell me, Master James, if you are not a servant demon, why do you hold the son of the devil’s cord?”

  James shook his head. He knew he shouldn’t talk to the pathetic Farrigan. It chuffed laughter again, wearily, and dropped its sword. The rusted blade broke off the hilt and the skeleton drew a great sigh, crackling its ribs.

  “I have divined my state now,” Farrigan said. “Austramaddux was right about the trap. I have been here an age, have not I? I am long dead, bound to this earth only by the curse of that abomination. And for what? I came not to thieve, but to destroy. Can you understand that, oh James, who holds the cord of the very man? I came to end it once and for all. But I have failed, and now it is begun. It is a good thing I am dead after all, and shall not see of it, yes?” The skeleton chuckled.

  James’ curiosity got the better of him. “What is it? What is begun?”

  “Say not that you be such a fool as to be blind to Merlinus’ skullduggery,” the skeleton replied, turning its head toward the sound of James’ voice. “You, who even now assist him in his aims. Tell me not that you have not heard of the Curse, my young friend.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” James answered. “Merlin’s not who you think he is. I don’t know what he was like in your time, but he’s different now. He’s good.”

  The skeleton threw itself forward, cackling and beating its bony thighs with its hands. Finger joints broke away and pattered amongst the animal bones. “If you believe that, then perhaps your world deserves what is to be dealt it.”

  “What is it?” James asked, feeling simultaneously fearful and annoyed.

  The skeleton of Farrigan stopped cackling. It twisted its head toward James again, its blank eyes penetrating. “How can you not know that the Gate is rent open? Merlinus has torn the curtain. His return to the world of men is a rift, connecting the realms. Things have come through, and are
even now loose among men.”

  “The Borleys,” James said to himself, considering.

  The skeleton nodded. “But that is not all. It is coming. The Gatekeeper. The Sentinel of Worlds! Merlinus is its Ambassador. Fool! Even now, you hold the cord in your hands! Release it! Perhaps the Gate may still be shut! Release the cord and rid the world of the Curse, for it is nearly complete! Believe not the lies! Release it and send him to his deserved doom!”

  “No,” James said, gripping the cord tightly, as if his fingers might betray him. He looked out along the length of the cord, but he could no longer see Merlinus. He could feel no weight on the cord. He knew he shouldn’t pay any attention to the deranged skeleton. Obviously, Farrigan was an ancient enemy of Merlinus. Probably, he had broken into the cavern to steal the cache, as Merlin alleged, and become trapped by the one-way stone. The skeleton was lying. There was no Curse. And yet…

  What if the skeleton was telling the truth? James had been responsible for bringing Merlin back into the world, duped by the horrible Madame Delacroix and her accomplices. He, James, had been consulted about whether or not Merlin should become the new Headmaster of Hogwarts. If there was any truth to what the skeleton said, it would be entirely on James’ head. Perhaps it was destiny, then, that had placed the cord in his hands, the cord that could cut Merlin off again, undoing all that James had unwittingly done. Perhaps now was his only chance to set things right again.

  “I sense your struggle, boy,” the skeleton said quietly. “You know what your purpose is, do you not? Do it. How hard can it be? It is no effort at all. Simply let go. Your friends await you outside, ready to release you from this place. They need not know what became of the wizard. Tell them he simply fell and is no more. Only you will know what you have saved your world from. Do it now. Do it while you still can.”

  James looked again. He could see Merlin now. He was returning along the length of the cord, a small box in one hand, his staff held aloft in the other. The cord was perfectly motionless as the big man placed his footsteps on it. James could still feel not the slightest tension on the cord. He squeezed it in his hands, thinking hard. Could he do it? Should he? Would he ever have such a chance again?

  “Do it, boy!” the skeleton of Farrigan whispered harshly, leaning forward. “Close your eyes, do not watch, and let go!”

  The cord was slick with sweat in James’ hand. He almost did it. His fingers twitched. And then he remembered something Merlin had said the year before, shortly after he’d come back into the world. You have rather a talent for looking beyond the flat of the mirror, James Potter, he’d told him. That had been a compliment, James assumed, and it meant that he was not easily fooled. Of course, Madame Delacroix had fooled him, but that had required the use of a very carefully hexed voodoo doll. Merlin had implied that words alone were not enough to dupe James.

  Thinking that, James turned to the skeleton one last time. “How do I know you are telling me the truth?”

  The skeleton seemed to sputter. “You know by the evidence of your own soul! You sense the rightness of my allegations! Now drop the cord! End it!”

  James narrowed his eyes. “You know, I don’t think I will. I don’t know what things were like in your time, but in my world, we don’t kill people just because somebody says they’re troublesome.”

  “Then your world deserves its own doom,” the skeleton replied, rattling back against the cavern wall. “I wash my hands of you. The Doombringer is come.”

  James decided it was best not to argue with the skeleton. Now that he’d made up his mind, he knew there was no point in it. He looked out along the cord and saw that Merlin was nearly back. His face was still grim, but there was a twinkle in his dark eyes.

  “Our task is complete, Mr. Potter,” he said as he stepped onto the stone of the cave floor. “You may release the cord. We will require it no longer.”

  James let the cord drop to the floor. It slithered away and dropped silently into the dark abyss. Sighing, James glanced over at the skeleton, but it didn’t move.

  “I’d expect to hear no more from him,” Merlin said quietly. “He has done what he remained to do.”

  “What’s that mean?” James said, turning to the wizard. “Why did I have to hold that cord?”

  “Trust, Mr. Potter,” Merlin replied, smiling a little sorrowfully. “It is a scarce commodity among those whose hearts are bent on evil. This is why trust was the final test before my cache.”

  “You knew he would be here?” James nodded toward the skeleton.

  “Him, or someone like him. His duty was to challenge your trust. After all, it isn’t really trust at all if there isn’t a struggle.”

  James looked up at Merlin’s face. “I almost let go,” he said quietly. “All I had to do was hold the cord, and I almost didn’t do it.”

  Merlin nodded gravely. “Doing what is right is nearly always simple, Mr. Potter. But it is never easy.”

  There didn’t seem to be anything more to say. James and Merlin walked back to the rough stone wall that bore the hidden door.

  “Mr. Deedle,” Merlin called, “by your leave, we shall come out now.”

  James heard Ralph’s voice clearly through the apparently impenetrable stone as if he was only a few feet away. “Er, all right then. What do I do?”

  “Point your wand at the doorway and say ‘Braut Tir’.”

  There was a pause. James heard Ralph whisper, “What’s that? I missed the accent!”

  “Just do it, Ralph,” Rose rasped impatiently, “they’re standing right there. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Ralph said the incantation. There was a slight pop and the doorway appeared. The light of the sunset flooded the cave. James squinted out at Ralph and Rose as Merlin extinguished his staff.

  “What’d I do?” Ralph exclaimed, stumbling backwards a step. “I sealed them in! The entrance disappeared!” Even Rose’s eyes had widened in fear.

  “What’s wrong with you two?” James asked, stepping through the doorway with Merlin right behind him.

  Ralph’s eyes widened even further. “Whoa,” he said, awed. “You just, like, walked right through a stone wall. You’re not, er, dead, are you?”

  “They’re fine, you prat,” Rose grinned, smacking Ralph on the shoulder.

  “One-way stone,” James shrugged, glancing back at the now solid wall of the cave. The door was completely invisible. “Is it closed forever?”

  Merlin nodded. “I require it no more. Let us return. The daylight will be gone soon and the tide rises even as we speak.

  James looked and saw that the waves were slopping over the lip of the cavern mouth. Each wave pushed more water onto the rough floor. Merlin still carried the small box under his arm as he turned to lead them up the narrow, curving stairway.

  “So that’s it?” Ralph called up from the rear. “You have all your stuff in that little box?”

  “Are you surprised, Mr. Deedle?” Merlin replied. “Would you prefer to heft a pile of trunks?”

  Ralph chuckled humorlessly. “You’d be on your own if that was the case. I can barely manage to drag myself out of here.”

  The return trip across the peninsula bridge was rather easier than it had been on their first crossing. The cliffs of the shoreline were a welcome sight and the wind was less than it had been an hour ago. Merlin was the last to cross. When he joined James, Rose, and Ralph on the crown of the promontory overlooking the peninsula, he turned to look back. Almost casually, he thrust his staff out over the bridge.

  “Discordium,” he said quietly. There was no flash of light or obvious magical blast of power, and yet the middle of the bridge shuddered visibly. As if in slow motion, the spine of rock disintegrated and crumbled massively into the ocean below, sending up enormous, crashing geysers of water.

  “Well, that’s that then, isn’t it?” Rose said, impressed.

  Merlin smiled down at her. Finally, just as the sun touched its golden reflection on the ocean horizon
, they turned to depart.

  As they made their way back, following in Merlin’s enchanted path, Rose drew close to James again.

  “Ralph and I heard you talking in there,” she said quietly. “But it didn’t sound like you were talking to Merlin. Was there something in there we couldn’t see from the doorway?”

  James didn’t answer right away. For some reason, he felt reticent to tell Rose and Ralph about the skeleton of Farrigan. He glanced at Rose. “That was me,” he said, shrugging. “I was just… talking to myself. It was creepy in there while Merlin went for the box.”

  Rose tightened her lips and looked closely at James as she walked. He knew she knew he was lying. He looked away and trotted closer to Merlin.

  “Headmaster,” he said after a while, “what are the Borleys?”

  Merlin was walking directly in front of James, his long stride cruising straight through the Forest like a knife. The last shreds of dusk on his robes gave him a vague, ghostly cast.

  “As I explained to you on the train, Mr. Potter, the Borleys are shadow creatures.”

  “Yeah, I remember, but where do they come from?”

  Merlin’s normally deep voice dropped a bit lower. “Your companion in the cave was talkative, wasn’t he?”

  James followed Merlin closely. He wished he could see the wizard’s face. They moved through the darkening woods swiftly, making very little noise. The wind shifted capriciously in the trees, rustling them, almost as if to cover Merlin’s voice.

  James went on, “He said that the Borleys came with you from between the worlds when you returned.”

  Merlin’s voice was still low and rumbling. “There is a grain of truth in all fictions, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you know what barnacles are? Disgusting creatures that accumulate on the hulls of ships after a long sea journey. They weigh down the ship and must eventually be removed and destroyed. You may think of the Borleys as the magical equivalent.”

  “So they did come back with you?”

  “This is so. I have been hard at work hunting them since my return. Most remained near me and were easy to capture. Two followed Mr. Deedle and Mr. Walker. Those I was able to track and capture before either boy became aware of them. Yours, Mr. Potter, was rather wilier. I believe it is the last of them.”