Bedevere glanced at the wound and said, “’Tis but a scratch, sire. I’ve had worse.” He pointed to the long scar on his face.
“I can see that. But, please, call me Artie.”
“No can do, my liege,” he said with a knowing grin. “You just kicked the butt of the Guardian Black Knight of King Arthur’s Court-in-Exile. You’ll have to cut a lot deeper than this to make me call you anything other than my king!”
Artie shook his head. Fighting Bedevere, besting him, and then talking easily with him felt like some sort of homecoming. Artie clapped his hand on Bedevere’s shoulder, and Bedevere nodded knowingly. Bedevere felt it too. It was like they’d been reunited.
Bercilak clapped his empty metal hands together and said, “Well, now that that’s over, we ought to partake in an impromptu knighting ceremony. Don’t you think, Mr. Thumb?”
“Absolutely,” Thumb agreed. “Artie, beating the Black Knight is a big deal. Now you can use Excalibur to anoint those you choose to enter your service.”
“Cool!” Artie said. “Well, I choose Kay; and you, Tom; and Bedevere; and of course you, Bercilak.”
Bercilak let out a hearty laugh like a long roll of thunder. When he was finished, he said, “Good trees, no! The lord of Sylvan—whom I am bound to serve and whom you seek—would not permit it!”
“Wait. What?” Kay blurted. “The guy whose hand we’re supposed to cut off and take to Merlin so he can get out of his prison is, like, your boss?”
“They are the same, Kay,” Thumb said seriously. It was obvious that he already knew—and that he was pretty disappointed about it.
“That’s just the way things are over here,” Bedevere tried to explain. “People have conflicting allegiances all over the place.”
“Well,” Bercilak said uneasily, “it is true that I am somewhat flummoxed. On the one hand I want to help the returned king—but on the other I must honor the pledges I’ve made to my lord Numinae.” He paused. “The sad truth is that, well, I know where Numinae can be found, but I cannot tell you where this is.”
“Why not?” Kay barked.
Artie didn’t get it either. Being a king wasn’t as straightforward as he thought it was going to be.
“Because he is uncertain,” Bercilak said. “If he knew surely that freeing the wizard would be the right thing to do, I deem that he would give you the key. But—and pardon the pun, considering where the key is kept—if on the other hand he thinks it better that the wizard stay put, then he will avoid you for as long as he can. Since he is undecided, he must try to stay clear of you. I am in his employ, and though I rank high, I lack the authority to lead you directly to him. He would have my head.”
“No offense, Bercy, but someone’s already taken care of that,” Kay joked sullenly.
“Quite right,” Bercilak chirped. “Two puns back to back!”
“How can we help him decide then?” Artie asked.
“I think I know,” Bedevere said. “You, me, Sirs Kay and Thumb—we go on your quest. Put our heads down and don’t worry about what these ancient leaders of the Otherworld think of you. If your actions prove you to be worthy of the title king, then you will be elevated. This is Numinae’s realm we will be trekking through. He has eyes in many places and he will see the way you conduct yourself.”
“So you’re saying,” Artie said slowly, “that if I act like a king, then it’s more likely that I’ll become one?” He felt like he’d just discovered one of life’s real secrets.
“That’s exactly what Bedevere is saying, lad!” Thumb shouted.
“Which is why,” Bercilak intoned, “we should hasten to knight everyone here—excepting myself, obviously—so you can start your quest properly!”
Artie shook his head. “Okay. Can you at least help with that?”
“Most certainly!” Bercilak said, happy once again.
Bercilak lead them to a low dais near Bedevere’s giant saber-toothed cat. Artie and Kay could hardly believe their eyes as they approached the animal. Its knifelike teeth were as long as their arms. Kay quietly said, “I’m glad that’s a friendly little kitty cat.”
“No kidding,” Artie agreed. “Hopefully we won’t ever run into a mean one.”
They moved up the dais and gathered around a narrow waist-high table.
Kay went first. She wasn’t too into kneeling in front of her little brother, but Bercilak insisted, and Artie promised he’d never tell anyone about it back home. He also agreed not to order her around like she belonged to him. “Remember, Your Highness, I’m still your big sister,” she said.
Artie touched each of her shoulders with Excalibur, repeating words that Bercilak whispered into his ear: “In the name of the Two Worlds, the One Earth, and the Sword from the Lake, I, King Arthur, name you Sir Kay, a New Knight of the Round Table.” That was it.
Sir Bedevere and Thumb followed. Each time Artie finished, a crack of thunder boomed outside, as if to announce the new knight to the Otherworld in style.
After the ceremony Bedevere presented Artie with Excalibur’s scabbard, which he and his ancestors had been guarding since the sword had been returned to the Lady of the Lake. It was a weather-beaten leather thing that seemed totally unremarkable. Artie strapped it on and slid Excalibur into it.
“It’s glad to be home,” Bedevere said with no shortage of pride. “You know, there’s something very special about that sheath, sire.”
“What’s that?” Artie asked.
“The injuries of whoever wears it will be healed instantly.”
“Wow!” Kay said.
“Cool,” Artie said as he held it up a little.
Then Bedevere gave Kay Cleomede’s scabbard, which was fancier. It was wrapped here and there with silken silver rope. Kay put it on and asked, “What’s this one do?”
“That? All bugs will leave you alone.”
“What? That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Bedevere said apologetically.
Kay wasn’t happy. “Hey, Bro, maybe from time to time we could switch?”
Artie chuckled and said, “We’ll see.”
The knighting over, Bercilak suggested they get more comfortable and gather around the table. As they made their way to the center of the hall, Artie asked, “Bercilak, you said you didn’t have the authority to tell us where Numinae is, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, could you at least tell us where we could find someone who does have the authority to tell us where he is?”
Bercilak sighed. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “If you were officially seated on your throne, I would not hesitate. But of course you aren’t yet.”
“Speaking of my throne,” Artie asked as they took places around the table, “where is it exactly?”
“Ah. Your throne is in your real court. And your real court is in a place that no being has been in a—”
“Avalon,” Artie said wondrously. It just popped into his mind. “It’s in Avalon, isn’t it?”
Bercilak grabbed the armrests of his chair, cracking them with his giant gauntlets. “My stars, lad, how do you know of Avalon?”
“We know it from the video game. It’s, like, where you go at the end of single-player,” Kay explained.
“Ah, yes. I forgot about that,” the green knight said, sounding satisfied. “And your real court is in Avalon. But as I was saying, no one has been there in a long, long time.”
“But it is most definitely still there, lad,” Thumb assured him.
“Verily, it is still there,” Bercilak said, using a word Artie was sure he’d never heard anyone actually say. “Though it has been hidden. Not even Morgaine can find—”
He was interrupted by a bone-rattling growl of thunder, followed by the loud snapping of a giant tree outside being shredded to toothpicks.
Artie and Kay half jumped from their seats.
“Ack! How foolish of me!” Bercilak scolded himself. “Apologies, good sirs. Even I am too free with names from tim
e to time. The Fenlandian lordess has keen ears—we must remember this.”
Artie’s knee started to bounce furiously as he asked, “Yeah, I was wondering: You think we’ll have much trouble with her?”
“Some is to be expected, there’s no doubt of that,” Bedevere answered.
“It is true, my liege,” Bercilak said. “But worry not. She won’t risk raking Sylvan with tornadoes like she did the land of Ohio. That would be far too likely to upset my lord Numinae.”
“Speaking of Numinae,” Kay said, “since you can’t tell us where he is, can you at least give us a hint about how to find him? A clue? Anything?”
Bercilak’s invisible innards grumbled as he shifted in his seat and said curtly, “Find a map. At the Great Sylvan Library.”
“Not to split hairs or anything, but what good is a map if we don’t know where we’re going?” Artie demanded.
“Artie makes a keen point, Bercilak,” Thumb interjected with a tone of disapproval.
“I see your point, of course,” Bercilak said, obviously uncomfortable about what he was about to say. “You must find the one called Tiberius.”
“Oh no,” Thumb said, letting his face fall into his hand.
“Who’s Tiberius?” Artie asked.
“Tiberius is our friend from the Lake,” Thumb said flatly.
Artie slumped in his chair.
“Not the dragon?” Kay asked.
“The same,” Bercilak said. “Only he has the authority to decide whether or not you will see Numinae. You will find his lair at the Font of Sylvan.”
“The Font of Sylvan?” Thumb complained, standing bolt upright in his chair. “But no one knows where the Font is!”
“I am truly sorry, Mr. Thumb,” Bercilak begged. “Please understand that I am trying to be honorable to all sides. The Great Library is full of maps. Really, I can say no more.”
Bercilak stood, made a little bow, and turned away from King Artie Kingfisher and the New Knights of the Round Table.
He walked down the great hall toward the darkness, opened the front door, ducked out, and was gone.
“Wow. He wasn’t kidding, huh?” asked Kay.
“No, I guess he wasn’t,” Artie mumbled.
A moment of stunned silence passed between them. But then Thumb jumped on top of his chair. He clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Buck up, lads. We rest here today. Tomorrow, we go to find a map! Tomorrow, we begin to hunt a dragon!”
18
IN WHICH THE PARTY TAKES A WALK THROUGH THE WOODS
Artie and Kay had spent a little time camping and hiking with Kynder, and they’d both been in scout troops when they were younger, but those things were nothing like tramping through the wilds of Sylvan.
For one, instead of just being out there to enjoy themselves, Artie and Kay were on a nutty fantasy mission to free their wizard friend from an invisible prison. This camping trip was important. Also, they were carrying different things. Things like magical medieval weapons and armor.
In addition to the buckler, Artie now had a blue metal great helm with curly horns, and an ancient dagger named Carnwennan that had belonged to Arthur the First. He wore this blade behind him on his belt.
Kay had grabbed a dagger, too, and a simple military helmet. Both she and Artie now wore light chain-mail shirts and leather-and-iron leggings with bendy knees. When they put all this on over their other clothes, they looked like something out of a post-apocalyptic zombie flick.
The other different thing was that they were bush-whacking through a pathless wood.
Fortunately, thanks to Thumb, they weren’t totally lost.
Thumb claimed to know more or less where they were and he concluded that if they moved east for three or four days, they’d eventually hit Sylvan’s main road, which ran its length from north to south, and which cut right through the town that was home to the Great Sylvan Library.
The only bummer was that by the fifth day there had been no sign of the road at all. Just forest, forest, forest, and more forest.
But what a forest! As they stamped through the woods, they saw more pigeons and giant birds. Thumb pointed out the tracks of a short-faced bear, another animal that had gone extinct on their side. At one point they glimpsed through a thicket the rack of an enormous stag-moose, and every day at dusk in the middle distance they spied a large golden laughing owl. This last sighting Thumb took to be a good omen, since over the years Merlin had been very close with owls.
For some strange reason Artie felt at home in these woods. There was something about them that felt second nature to him. On the first night he impressed them all—Kay especially—by whipping up a raging fire in a matter of minutes, in spite of the fact that it was raining. On the second day as they forded a medium-sized stream, he showed them that he could catch fish—with his bare hands! He simply found a low stone and wiggled his fingers under it and waited, and sure enough, after about five minutes, he was able to grab a nice brown trout by the gills. Along with Bedevere—who with a pistol-sized crossbow was able to bag rabbits, pigeons, and squirrels—he made sure they were never hungry.
On the third night, as Artie constructed a watertight shelter from pine boughs and giant fern fronds, Kay marveled, “Man, Artie, your outdoor skills are crazy!”
Artie agreed, just as amazed as his sister. “All thanks to Excalibur. It keeps showing me things I never knew or even would’ve noticed before. It’s pretty sweet.”
“I’ll say.”
As they drifted off that night, they felt really good.
But it wasn’t to last, because late on the fourth morning, a long howl echoed through the trees.
They stopped dead. Vorpal sank low to the ground and gathered his haunches instinctively for a strike.
“What was that ?” demanded Kay.
Artie’s hand rested on Excalibur’s pommel, and his sword gave him the answer. “It’s a dire wolf,” Artie said.
“Blast,” Thumb said. “Big things, dire wolves.”
“Best we try to ignore it, guys,” Bedevere said. “It’s a wild animal, and there’s no shortage of prey out here. We shouldn’t have any trouble.”
“Are you referring to the whole ‘it’s more scared of us than we are of it’ theory of wild animals, there, Beddy?” Kay wondered.
“I am,” he answered.
“All righty then,” Kay said, unconvinced.
They moved on and tried to forget it, and for the rest of the day they were successful. But as night fell and as their fire crackled, they heard the howl again. And this time, from farther off, more howls answered.
They decided to post a watch. Artie insisted that he go first.
Just before they turned in, Thumb offered this piece of unencouraging advice: “I’m not saying this is at all likely to occur, but if the wolves attack, the most important thing is that we stand our ground.”
“Got it,” they all said.
Artie stationed himself on a log by the fire, his unsheathed sword resting across his knees. The light of the snapping fire played on the surrounding forest. After a while a wet drizzle began to fall.
Artie opened one of the umbrellas Kynder had put in the magical backpack and huddled underneath it. He threw a dry log onto the fire, and it quickly roared to life. The needles of a pine bough near the flames caught fire and exploded like miniature firecrackers. Artie poked the coals with Excalibur and breathed in deeply, expecting the sweet smell of wet forest and a lively fire.
Instead he was nearly bowled over by an overpowering wet-dog smell.
Artie stood, but there was nothing there.
He dropped the umbrella, hoisted Excalibur, and put on his helmet. He checked that the buckler was strapped on tight and drew his dagger.
He spun a few circles looking for a wolf, but there wasn’t one.
The owl swooped out of the darkness like a stealth fighter, hooting furiously. Artie looked up, and he was not ready for what he saw.
A creature was directly overhead i
n a tree, not ten feet away.
Wolves didn’t climb trees, did they?
Artie raised Excalibur, and the thing inched closer. Artie blinked as he tried to make sense of what he was looking at. The way it moved was mind-boggling. Clearly the creature’s head was a wolf’s—but the creature’s body… the creature’s body was a man’s!
The thing threw back its head and began to howl.
Ahoooooool! Ow-ow-ow-ahoooooooooooooool!
The terrifying call echoed between the damp forest and the thick clouds above.
Then the wolf-man turned and scampered farther up the tree. Before it disappeared from sight, Artie saw that it definitely had human skin and hands and feet, and that it wore a red cape over a shirtless torso.
Artie felt his sword hand tingle and looked back to the camp. His knights were still out cold. How had his friends slept through that wolf cry?
“Guys?” Artie called desperately in their direction.
None of them stirred.
Artie strained, looking into the blackness of the forest. He saw nothing beyond the reach of the firelight.
That is, until a dozen pairs of wolf eyes opened at once, like a platoon of yellow lightning bugs glowing on at the exact same moment.
Artie whispered, “Some light!” Excalibur brightened, and the wolves were revealed. They crept into the circle of light surrounding Artie and his sleeping companions.
“Uh, guys? Time to wake up!” Artie yelped futiley.
Seriously, how could they be sleeping through this?
And then a communal growl erupted as the wolves bared their teeth and narrowed their eyes.
“GUYS! REALLY!”
Kay tossed and Bedevere snorted. They were still out.
Artie spun one way and then the next. He was sure these creatures could smell the blood pumping through his body. Artie checked that he was wearing Excalibur’s sheath. He hoped it would keep him from getting totally mauled to death.
One of the smaller wolves lunged within reach of Excalibur. Artie stabbed at its nose but didn’t make contact. The animal jumped back, a long stream of drool whipping from its jowls.
The Invisible Tower Page 12