The Invisible Tower

by Nils Johnson-Shelton

  “I think we’re in trouble,” Thumb said ominously.

  The smoke cleared. What remained, aside from a mound of upturned earth, was an elephant-sized wild boar.

  “Yes. We’re in trouble,” Thumb confirmed.

  The animal’s hair was wiry and shiny, his feet were completely bloodstained, and his nasty tusks were way longer than they should have been. He was an honest-to-goodness hellion.

  Except that, for some reason, he had a dainty silver comb tied into the hair on the very top of his head, like a bow affixed to the head of a cute little lapdog.

  “I have a bad feeling, guys,” Kay said from somewhere behind them.

  “What is that?” Artie demanded as he and Thumb began to backpedal.

  Thumb cleared his throat and said quietly, “That’s Twrch Trwyth.”

  Lavery continued to laugh quietly.

  “It’s Welsh for ‘divine boar,’” Thumb explained.

  And then, before Artie could say anything, the boar charged.

  Charged isn’t really the right word, though. It was more like he teleported in a blurry zipping motion.

  Before any of them could react, the creature had passed Artie and Thumb and was standing over Kay and Bedevere, rearing his hideous head.

  Except that Kay wasn’t on the ground next to Bedevere anymore—she was up in the air, in the boar’s teeth, screaming.

  More quickly than he thought possible, Artie ran to

  Kay, dragging Thumb with him.

  The boar was wildly happy with the prospect of gobbling down Kay and didn’t really notice Artie as he moved in under his chin.

  A drop of his sister’s blood hit Artie on the head.

  They really, really had to go.

  Artie hoisted Excalibur, drove it to the hilt into the ground and screamed, “Lunae lumen!”

  Thumb grabbed Artie’s leg, Artie touched his sister’s foot, and Bedevere reached out with his remaining arm and grabbed Artie’s hip.

  Vorpal, still guarding the cat, wasn’t going to make it.

  The moongate crackled open and took them away, an express train to Merlin, where Artie hoped his knights would be healed.

  The last thing he saw, past the electric glow of the moongate and the dripping jowls of the evil pig, was the slender form of a great green dragon, high above them, turning wheels in a purplish Otherworld sky.

  23

  HOW THE PARTY DISCOVERS THAT THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE A WIZARD’S HOME

  The moongate snapped shut, its light running over their bodies like a dissipating electrical current.

  They’d been transported to a plain stone chamber, Excalibur driven to the hilt in the earthen floor. Next to its crossbar was the stone the wizard had kept as a marker for their safe return.

  But of course, with a bloodied sister and a delirious, one-armed knight, Artie didn’t feel all that safe.

  He screamed, “Merlin!”

  The wizard immediately whisked in. Artie noticed that he had a new tattoo, right in the middle of his forehead: a solid black circle about two inches across.

  “Where have you been?” the wizard barked, but then, when he saw Kay’s blood and the maimed Bedevere, he yelped, “Oh my!”

  Merlin sprang into action. He unbuckled Excalibur’s sheath from Artie’s belt and floated into the air, holding the scabbard in front of him. He began to spin like a top, moving so fast that he blurred into a featureless gray column. Then he began to glow—blue, green, yellow. Suddenly everything went white. Artie felt disoriented and woozy. As the light began to fall away, things were completely rearranged.

  Artie and Thumb were on one side of the room, separated from Kay and Bedevere by a glass partition. The wounded knights were strapped to beds that were raised past a forty-five-degree angle. Both Kay and Bedevere were fast asleep and hooked up to IVs.

  Bedevere was shirtless and had a massive bandage wrapped around his torso, but his skin had a healthy hue. For having just been relieved of an entire arm, he looked pretty good.

  Kay wore a hospital gown and was covered to the waist with a white sheet. Artie couldn’t be sure, but he thought her gown was printed with a pattern of little baby-blue pointed wizard’s caps. She appeared totally peaceful, as if nothing had happened to her.

  Apparently they’d been transported to Saint Merlin’s General Hospital.

  Most striking, though, was the wizard. Merlin looked nothing like a doctor—or he looked exactly like one if you counted high priest witch doctors as doctors. He stood with his back to Artie and Thumb, still clutching Excalibur’s healing sheath in both hands. His exposed skin was sheened with sweat, and some of his tattoos appeared to be rising and falling, as if parts of his skin were like a movie screen projected with a nest of writhing snakes.

  Artie took a deep breath. Adrenaline still coursed through his system. He had a hard time not banging on the glass and demanding to know how Kay and his friend were doing.

  As if he could read his mind, Thumb, back to his old miniature size, scrambled onto Artie’s shoulder and said, “They’re going to be fine, lad. Kay especially. She looks radiant, doesn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she does,” Artie said with a shiver. Then he turned to Thumb and said, “I’m so sorry about Vorpal.”

  The little man smiled sadly. “I am too. No doubt that blackguard of an elf will be dining on him tonight.”

  “Jeez, I hope not,” Artie said, a little shocked. Thumb didn’t reply.

  Eventually Artie stepped from the glass and looked around. Excalibur was at his feet, still pushed into the ground. Artie reached down and pulled it up. He bent again to pick up the stone, rose, and dropped it into a pocket.

  The next room had some comfy chairs in it and a table set with water and snacks. A fire crackled in a big stonework hearth. Artie went into the room, Thumb still on his shoulder, and collapsed into one of the chairs.

  After a while Artie took a deep breath and asked, “What just happened, Tom?”

  Thumb jumped from Artie’s shoulder and settled on the flat side of Excalibur, which lay in Artie’s lap. “You saved our backsides, that’s what just happened, lad. And now Merlin is fixing our comrades.”

  “I know, but I’m talking about that pig thing, Lavery, the tigers… I just saw a dragon in the sky—maybe it was Tiberius? I mean, what the holy hand grenades is going on?”

  Thumb sighed. “What’s going on is you’re the king of the two lands, and you are destined to see some strange things. I’m sorry if it’s too much.”

  “Yeah, I am too,” Artie said wistfully.

  They sat in silence for a while. As Artie started to ask more about the boar, Merlin glided into the room wearing a long linen cloak.

  Artie stood, and Thumb slid to the floor. The wizard returned Excalibur’s magical scabbard and the boy-king strapped it on.

  “Well, how are they?”

  The wizard made a so-so kind of face, and Artie’s heart skipped a beat. “Kay will be fine,” he said “Her wounds were superficial, and you got her here so quickly that by tomorrow she’ll barely show any physical signs of damage. The Black Knight, however…”

  “I couldn’t grab the arm. I’m sorry, Merlin.”

  “Even if you had, I’m not sure we could have reattached it. The projectile that severed it had some poisonous magic on it. Thanks to Excalibur’s sheath, I was able to chase this magic wholly from his body, but I’m uncertain that it would have worked as well on his severed arm. I don’t think it would have mattered if you had brought it.”

  “But is he going to be all right?” Artie wondered.

  “I think so, yes. He’s very strong. We will know by morning if he’ll survive. As for his future…”

  “I’m sure being down an arm won’t slow him at all, Merlin. He’s a real warrior. Way more of a real warrior than me,” Artie said.

  “Fiddlesticks, lad,” interjected Thumb. “You should see how quickly our boy has progressed, Merlin. He is the one, there is no doubt.”

 
Merlin nodded deeply, moved to one of the chairs, sat, and poured a glass of water. Artie sat too, and Thumb clambered up to perch on Artie’s knee.

  Merlin sighed and said, “When I first heard you calling me, I was furious to know where you had been and what exactly had taken you so long. I tried ringing you on the Otherworld phone, but no one ever answered. You have been gone a long, long time, young king.”

  “How long?” Artie and Thumb asked together.

  “Nearly three weeks.”

  Artie stood, Thumb hanging on tightly to his pants leg, and said, “What? Three weeks! That means we were in that stupid library for over two weeks!”

  “It was as I feared,” Thumb said.

  “But why would we be kept? Why not just kill us and take Excalibur?”

  “I’m not sure,” Merlin said seriously.

  “Tom thought maybe it was so that Morgaine—I can say her name here, right?” Artie asked, interrupting himself, remembering all the thunderclaps and saber-tooth roars that happened whenever her name was mentioned in the Otherworld.

  “Aye, lad,” Thumb said comfortingly.

  “Good,” Artie said. “Well, Tom thought maybe we were held so Morgaine could have enough time to travel to us, so she could take Excalibur for herself. Maybe she doesn’t trust anyone else to take it for her?”

  “Perhaps,” Merlin said slowly. “Or maybe there’s some reason she wants both the sword and you. We are drifting into uncharted waters, I’m afraid. There are things that even I do not know. Please, tell me everything that has happened.”

  Merlin held his chin in his hand and listened carefully as Artie and Thumb recounted their adventures. At one point he conjured up a cup of coffee for himself, some tea for Thumb, and an ice-cold Coke for Artie. The wizard didn’t like the sound of Lavery at all and was disturbed to hear that Cassie had emerged as a player in their drama, but he was most put off by the mention of the giant boar. When Thumb mentioned his name, whose pronunciation still eluded Artie’s ears, Merlin stood up in a huff.

  “Twrch Trwyth? Good great heavens! Are you certain, Mr. Thumb?”

  “Absolutely, Merlin. We saw his comb.”

  “What’s the big deal?” Artie asked. “I mean, he was super frightening and all, but he’s only a boar, right?”

  Merlin sighed. “Wrong, child. He is the boar. The divine porcine, if you will. And the big deal is that if Morgaine was able to summon him from his hell pit, it means that she has become even more powerful than I imagined.” Merlin paused for a moment before adding, “My, she has been busy all these long years.”

  “She certainly has, Merlin,” Thumb seconded darkly.

  “So if she’s that powerful,” Artie continued, “do you think she’s the one that took Cassie?”

  Merlin furrowed his brow and said, “No, I don’t think so. She would only have been able to do that if she were there, and if she had been there, well, I’m afraid you would not be here now.”

  “Okay, so the forest creature was Numinae?” Artie guessed, starting to piece things together.

  “Probably, yes.”

  “Well, why would he take Cassie then?”

  “I don’t know that either, Artie.”

  Artie was getting frustrated with Merlin’s lack of knowledge. “Take a guess,” Artie said flatly.

  Merlin wiped his hand across his bald head and said, “Well, maybe he just wanted to keep her away from Morgaine. Had Lavery and the boar beaten you, then Morgaine could easily have taken Cassie. I am sorry, my lord, but I just don’t know. What I do know is that Morgaine wants Excalibur, and also seems to want you. And Numinae, as Bercilak revealed, doesn’t know what he wants.”

  “This is all very confusing,” Artie said, slumping in his chair.

  “Agreed, but things will clear as you proceed with the quest for the key. Think now, Artie, was there anything else that you missed? Anything that seemed important when it happened?”

  Artie put his head in his hands and thought. He took his time. Eventually he exclaimed, “Oh, right! At one point Cassie asked where the one whose name starts with Q was! She was talking about Qwon!”

  “Qwon? Your classmate?” Merlin asked.

  “Yeah,” Artie said, disturbed. “Is Qwon, like, important?”

  Merlin looked down and said, more to himself than to Artie, “Maybe, especially if Morgaine has divined that she’s important to you. I think we need to see Qwon, and soon!”

  Artie’s knee began to bounce. “You don’t think she could be in trouble, do you?”

  “Unfortunately, Artie, I think she could be in grave trouble!”

  Artie stood. “Merlin, can I Lunae lumen myself from here to the other stone, the one in my bedroom back home?”

  “Why, yes, of course, but—”

  Artie removed the stone he’d pocketed earlier and chucked it at Merlin, who adeptly snatched it from the air.

  Artie said, “Hold on to that, I’ll be back soon.”

  And before Merlin or Thumb could stop him, Artie plunged Excalibur through the floor and ordered his sword to take him back to Shadyside, Pennsylvania.

  24

  IN WHICH THE MOSSMAN COMETH

  Artie, bathed in moonlight, appeared in his upstairs bedroom, kneeling on his bed. He fell to his side in a fit of dizziness. Moongating all over the place was beginning to take a toll.

  Slowly his eyes adjusted and his head steadied. Downy white feathers fell around him like he’d just been in a massive pillow fight.

  Excalibur, next to the stone, impaled his pillow, the mattress, and the bed frame.

  Artie stood and withdrew his sword, showering even more feathers into the room. He looked around. Everything was as he’d left it. No one had disturbed his old, private kingdom.

  His mind cleared and zoomed to its destination.

  Qwon.

  Artie jetted out of the room and down the stairs and skidded into the living room. Lance sat bolt upright in Kynder’s favorite chair, exclaiming, “Whoa, Artie—whassup?”

  Kynder came scurrying in from the kitchen. He wore his wellies and a red-and-white striped kitchen apron. “Arthur!” Kynder yelled, a broad smile on his face. “You’re back!”

  “Hey, Kynder! Hey, Lance! Uh, yeah, kinda. But I’ve got to go. Sorry.”

  “But you just got here,” Kynder said, sounding confused.

  “I mean I’ve got to go find Qwon. Have you seen her?”

  “No, Arthur, I haven’t. Can’t you stay for a bit? I mean, how’s it going?”

  “Not now, Kynder. Really, I need to see Qwon. Lance—I might need your help. Want to come? You might need your bow.”

  “You got it!” Lance quickly moved to the foyer, where his bow and quiver were propped against the wall. He grabbed his preposterous Robin Hood hat from a peg on the wall and slid on his aviator sunglasses. He looked every bit as silly as the day they’d seen him in the woods behind Serpent Mound.

  Kynder followed them with a look of helpless concern on his face. “Where’s Kay? Is she all right?”

  “She’s fine, Dad,” Artie lied, his heart sinking. “She’s with Merlin and Tom.”

  “Oh,” Kynder said, obviously disappointed that Kay wasn’t there. “Can’t you stay for dinner, at least? I just made—”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. Believe me, there’s nothing I’d rather do than stay here with you,” which was true. Artie really missed Kynder, and he felt awful that he didn’t have time to tell him about everything, especially about Kay. He forced himself to look at Lance and said, “C’mon, let’s go.”

  Lance said, “Lead the way.”

  Artie threw open the front door and bolted, Lance jogging like the professional soldier he was right behind him. They jumped into Lance’s cab and took off.

  Qwon’s house was about three minutes away.

  “Right on Morewood to Ellsworth,” Artie said.

  “Got it. So what’s up with Qwon?”

  “We think she might be in trouble.”

  “
What kind of trouble?”

  “Otherworld trouble.” They came to a stop. “Here’s Ellsworth. Right again.”

  “Roger that. What kind of stuff you seeing over there?”

  “Dragons, huge pigs, an elf, saber-toothed tigers, knights, a dude with the body of a man and the head of a wolf, that kind of thing.”

  “Far out.”

  “Yeah, totally. Go left here, on Colonial. That’s hers—the white one on the right.”

  They screeched to a stop in front of Qwon’s house, jumped out, and ran across the driveway.

  A couple of teenage skaters in tight jeans and knit hats ground to a halt. One punched the other on the arm and said, “Get a load of these two losers.”

  And to a couple of pseudohipster skaters, that was exactly what Artie and Lance must have looked like. Their weapons were so out of place, and their clothing was such an odd mix of old and new, that they must have looked like a couple of nerdy Renaissance-fair castaways.

  Artie and Lance ran to the front door and rang the bell. Ding-dong. Artie was in a desperate rush but he refused to barge in.

  Lance drew an arrow and nocked it to the bowstring.

  Artie rang again.

  Ding-dong.

  And again.

  Ding-dong.

  “I’m coming!” a voice shouted from inside. The door opened as Qwon’s mother said, “Oh, hello, Artie. Qwon’s up in her—My, my. What’s all this?”

  Mrs. Onakea was about five feet tall, had a neat head of black bobbed hair, and wore sea-green cat’s-eye glasses.

  Artie shifted nervously from foot to foot and tried to answer. “This? Oh, uh, well, um…”

  “Ma’am, Victor Lance. Pleasure to meet you. Artie and I are members of a kind of medieval fan club. We were going to a meet-up and thought we’d see if Qwon wanted to join us.”

  “Uh, y-yeah,” Artie stammered. “It’s pretty cool. None of this stuff is real, Mrs. Onakea. Totally plastic.”

  “I see.” Mrs. Onakea said slowly.

  “Please, Mrs. Onakea, can we come in?” Artie pleaded. “We won’t stay long, I promise.”

  “Of course, Artie. Come in.” Mrs. Onakea stepped aside and said, “Qwonnie’s upstairs. Knock first. Can I interest you in some iced tea, Mr. Lance?”