His idea was simple—simple but bril iant, he told himself. He would get the lords to make a clay cannon and clay cannonbal s. Clay could never withstand the force of an explosion. The weapon that the Lords of Aedyn hoped to use against their enemies would destroy their own guards instead.
There was, of course, the simple matter of his own escape, but as they approached the Hal he put it out of his mind. Al would be wel . He was sure of it.
Al three lords were waiting. One of them gestured to a table that had been set up with paper and ink and Peter, understanding, made a hasty but complete sketch of a cannon. Finishing, he brought it to the lords.
“You put the gunpowder al the way down here,” he said, pointing. “And the cannonbal —those are the clay bal s I told you about—is placed on top of it.
Then the gunpowder is ignited through this little opening here. It explodes and propels the cannonbal into the distance.”
“And how far does it travel?” asked the Jackal.
“It al depends, my lord,” Peter replied. “That’s part of the testing process. But it wil go far indeed—
farther than an arrow.”
“But surely the cannon itself wil explode? How could clay withstand the pressure?”
“The barrel of the cannon is very thick, and the cannonbal does not stay inside for long,” Peter said self-assuredly. “The ful force of the explosion wil propel the cannonbal forward, not shatter the cannon barrel.”
“I do hope you’re right,” said the Wolf, speaking for the first time. “If not, you can expect to die a particularly unpleasant death. You!” He addressed a swarthy man who was standing back in the shadows
—the potter, and most likely another slave, Peter thought. “Can this be made?” The Wolf took hold of Peter’s design and shook it at the man. The potter nodded mutely and gave a grunt that must have been assent, for the lords seemed to relax.
“Until tomorrow, then,” said the Wolf, and swept his arm in a gesture of dismissal.
Peter returned to his rooms, locked in with a guard stationed outside the doorway. He paced back and forth in front of the windows, no longer able to push out of his mind the question of his escape.
Surely, surely there had to be a way to get out of al this. A way to get away from the castle and find Julia and get home to Oxford!
It was just then, as he looked out over the castle ramparts, that the shadow of an idea slipped into his mind. He walked up and down more heavily, mul ing it over. It would depend ninety percent upon careful planning and ten percent on blind luck, and Peter knew that one cannot plan to be lucky. But the risk was stil worth taking. He thought furiously. The plan had so many loose ends, but it was the only one he had. It just had to work. Otherwise, he would die a quick death when the cannon exploded…or a slow one when the Lords of Aedyn caught him afterwards.
As Peter paced the room Julia was setting off into the dark depths of the forest.
“How wil I know where I am meant to be going?” she asked Gaius, gripping the new walking stick Lukas had cut for her.
“An eagle wil go ahead of you, and he wil guide you to the place of testing. Look up on that tree, to the right. No, just there. Do you see him? Watch him careful y. When you have arrived at the right place, he wil land close beside you.” Gaius put his hands on Julia’s shoulders and squeezed them gently, just as her father had done when she was smal . “Now go! And may the Lord of Hosts be with you!” There was a fluttering noise from the tree as the eagle launched himself into the air and began to soar upwards, circling. Julia fol owed him along a narrow path which seemed to lead nowhere.
It was late morning, but as she fol owed the eagle deeper and deeper into the forest it seemed that dusk had begun to fal . She found herself deep in the shadowy, wild forest, and had it not been for the dark outline of the eagle above her she would have been lost in moments. Immense, gloomy trees with huge twisted roots soared up to an invisible yet darkening sky far beyond. The tangled maze of leaves and branches were like a thick wal , blotting out what little remained of the sunlight.
She had no idea what creatures might lurk in the darkness beyond the safety of the path, or what wild beasts might live on the island. But she kept her eyes on the eagle, and suddenly the path opened up into a grassy clearing. The eagle waited in the middle of it, cocking its head at her almost inquisitively. Then he bowed—and if you have ever seen an eagle bow, you wil know that it was a very strange sight indeed—and flew into the gathering night. Within moments, he had disappeared from view.
Julia watched him depart—her one link with the familiar. How she wished that she could mount up with the wings of an eagle, instead of being bound to this island and the great unknown!
Alone in the night, this unaccustomed midday darkness, there was nothing to do but make herself comfortable and wait for whatever this test might be.
She stretched out beneath a thick-branched pine at the edge of the clearing and, stil exhausted from her night in the Death Cage and the hard ride after it, waited for sleep to come.
But something else came first.
In front of her eyes the tal grasses between the trees parted, revealing what lay within. A man stepped out from between the trees and held out his hand. “Greetings,” he said with a smile.
CHAPTER
14
He wore the dark robes of a slave, but the massive hood was down around his shoulders. His silver hair and hard eyes were al too familiar. Simeon. She hadn’t expected to see him here—he was stil a slave in the castle, wasn’t he? But stranger things had already happened in Aedyn, and so she started forward with a smile. Simeon opened his arms in an embrace.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes bright. Simeon dipped his head in a gesture that was almost a bow.
“I bear greetings to the Deliverer of Aedyn!” Julia smiled shyly. The name sounded grander every time she heard it—the Deliverer. The Deliverer.
“But how did you get out of the castle?” she asked. “I thought you were al trapped there…”
“I have my ways,” he answered. “I come from your friends. Friends who recognize your strength and power and wisdom. Friends who want to help you to use it!”
Strength. Power. Wisdom. She straightened her back and smiled, wishing in spite of herself that Peter could hear what Simeon was saying. “Go on,” she said.
“My lady, Gaius has told you that you were cal ed here to serve others. But why not serve yourself instead? You have no rival in this island.
Why not claim it for your own? Why give power to another when you could have that power yourself?
You could be,” he said quietly, “the supreme ruler. My friends and I would be your slaves. We would count it a great honor to serve one such as you.” And Julia’s imagination was set on fire. Every person and animal on this island bowing down to her
—their adoring cries ringing in her ears. She was captivated.
“And what must I do to become the supreme ruler of this world?”
Simeon smiled. “Nothing, my lady, nothing. We wil do everything for you. Al you need do is speak when we tel you to. We wil tel you what to say.” Julia was overwhelmed with images of luxury, delight, and power. But then she looked at Simeon—
looked at his eyes—and other images began to intrude. She saw a bird beating itself against the bars of a golden cage, trying with al its strength to escape. That was what this was al about. Trickery and temptation. She could fol ow Simeon—if this was indeed Simeon—and become merely a figurehead for the dark forces that stil enslaved the island.
Her eyes snapped back into focus, and she remembered who she was and what she was meant to do. A new strength flooded through her, and she spoke in a voice that she hardly recognized as her own. “I am not the fool you think, Simeon. Leave me.” The man before her made an almost inhuman snarl before slinking back into the night.
Julia looked after him long after he had vanished into the forest. She was breathing heavily, taki
ng in great gulps of air as she watched the place where he had been. And final y she returned to her place beneath the pine, longing for rest.
She could not say how long she had slept when she was roused by a soft noise, somehow set apart from the normal din of the woods. As she listened, al senses alert, she heard the soft beating of wings in the night air. She sat bolt upright, her eyes straining into the darkness to see what was coming.
It was the eagle—the same who had brought her to this place. She was silent, suspicious as it landed close by her and bowed low.
“Hail, Lady Julia. I come from Gaius, and I bring you new instructions.”
“And what are these orders?”
“You are in great danger,” said the eagle with something like a smile. “The Lords of Aedyn are coming for you. I am to lead you to a hiding place.
You wil be safe there, and among friends.”
“And what does Gaius want me to do while I wait there?” she asked, unwil ing to trust the eagle, no matter how convincing his words. But it came up close to her and rubbed its face against her skirts, roughly but not harshly. Julia was suddenly reminded of Scamp, her grandparents’ tabby cat back home in Oxford, and she reached down to stroke the smooth feathers on the eagle’s head.
“He and the rebels wil fight,” the eagle spoke, its voice low. “You are too precious to risk your life in battle, my lady. The people need to see you victorious.”
Safety…safety and friends. What could be sweeter? Julia began to nod, and then stopped. She had not been cal ed from another world to remain safe. She had been cal ed to lead.
Julia stared at the animal. Outwardly he was noble and dignified, yet she knew in her heart of hearts that inwardly he was trying to lure her into a trap. It was not reasoned thinking that brought her to this conclusion, for she knew the eagle to be her guide. It was something deeper than reason, some kind of wisdom that seemed to be taking her over and directing her judgments. She would be taken to a place of “safety” where she would be assassinated. Or captured, and taken back in chains to the Lords of Aedyn. No, she would not trust him.
“Begone, Eagle,” she said. “Go back to your masters. I wil not suffer your presence here.” The bird hissed at her, hatred pouring out of his molten eyes.
“You fool! You wil die for this.”
“No,” she said quietly. “You are the one who wil die. Those who sent you do not tolerate failure.” And with another hiss, the eagle beat his wings and lifted himself into the stil ness.
Julia returned to the pine once more, determined to stay awake and await whatever might come next. But sleep overtook her, and when she woke again the sun was just touching the sky with the easy grace of dawn. She remembered how she had seen it the day before, riding away into a forest, and for a moment she wondered about Peter—
wondered if he was safe and wel , in spite of al he had done to her. And then she put him out of her mind because there was a more pressing matter at hand: breakfast.
She clutched at her stomach and looked about for the eagle—the true eagle, not the imposter of the night. Surely he would take her back to the garden, and Gaius would conjure more of his breads and fruit for her. Surely the testing was over and it was safe to return!
And then came a rustling noise in the forest to her left. Instantly she was on alert. As she looked around, every muscle tense, the grasses parted to reveal a tal , slender woman whose gentle eyes were most familiar.
Julia let out a gasp and then a cry, lurching forward into her mother’s waiting arms. And if you have ever longed for someone—longed with your whole being to be with that person—you wil be able to imagine how sweet the reunion was.
There was a great deal of weeping and hugging, and even when Julia stepped back she could hardly believe it. Her mother—her mother who had died. But stranger things could happen in Aedyn, couldn’t they? Even Gaius could live here, century after century, after he had died on Earth. And so she didn’t waste any breath asking how her mother could be there, but just drank in the sight of her.
“Let me look at you.” Her mother held Julia at arm’s length, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “My beautiful girl…my girl. You’l come with me, won’t you?”
“Come where?” she asked. Her mother gestured her head back the way she had come.
“I’ve made a place for us, darling. A place we can be together—somewhere safe where you can rest. You don’t have to be a hero anymore.” Julia let out a gaspy little sob and col apsed against her mother, who put her arm around her waist and started to lead her out of the clearing.
She spoke softly while they walked—reassuring words of such peace and comfort that Julia almost wept with the relief of it. No more fighting. No more trying to be brave.
“We’l stay there together,” her mother was saying. “It’s a cozy little house. I built a room for you
—al for you. And we won’t have to miss each other any more, because it wil just be us. You and me.
Peter won’t come to bother us; it wil just be us, darling.”
And Julia stopped dead in her tracks.
“Not Peter?”
“Of course not, darling,” her mother purred.
“Peter hurt you, didn’t he? Peter betrayed you.”
“How do you know that?” Julia’s eyes narrowed, suddenly suspicious.
“I know everything, dearest,” her mother said with a laugh, but Julia stepped back, pained. This wasn’t her mother—couldn’t be her mother. Her mother would never speak a word against either of her children. And so she couldn’t fol ow this—this apparition, no matter how safe it felt. The price would be high. Too high.
The woman watched Julia intently. But then the truth became clear: Julia was no child. Instead, her eyes meeting the steely gaze of one who had faced her weaknesses and triumphed over them. And so she nodded, turned, and was gone.
Julia stared after her, tears once more stinging her eyes, and watched, moments later, as the eagle
—the true eagle—circled the clearing, leading her on a path to the north. Grateful, exhausted, Julia fol owed.
She walked as the sun rose, filtering through the rich foliage canopy above them. The path gradual y became broader, and fluctuating patterns of light shimmered on the forest floor. Beams of light were caught in the rising mist from a nearby stream. The air became warmer and was gradual y fil ed with the soft whooping and chirruping of waking birds and insects. It was, she realized, the first time she had heard the noises of natural animals in al the time she had spent in the forest. Something had changed.
Far above the eagle soared, rising with the warm air and diving down again to ensure he had not lost sight of his charge. Ahead, he caught the glint of sunlight reflected off the shimmering blue surface of the pool he was seeking. He fluttered down to the forest beneath him, perching on a branch high above the pathway. He watched as Julia made her way along the path towards him, and then, with two powerful thrusts of his wings, dived down to land by the side of a pool.
She sat down by the edge. It was clearly not a natural formation. The pool was perfectly round, surrounded by a low, careful y crafted stone wal . Its water was bright blue. To her right there was a smal hil covered with trees. Down its side shimmered a smal stream which babbled its way to the pool.
There must be a spring there, she thought to herself.
She touched it with her finger, then put her finger to her mouth. The water was cool and refreshing.
She lay down on the ground, stretched out in the soft sunlight, plunged her hands into the water and drank. Julia watched in pleasure as the surface of t he water reflected the trees above, light flashing from time to time as the leaves moved in the gentle breeze.
Slowly, unnoticed, a figure detached itself from the green wilderness. He approached the pool slowly and sat down nearby. He watched Julia drink for a few moments, then spoke.
“Good morning, fair one.”
Julia sat up abruptly, startled to f
ind that she was not alone. But seeing who it was, she relaxed.
“Greetings, Gaius. It is good to see you.”
“And you.” He smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling. “You have done wel . You have confronted ambition, deceit, and desire, and triumphed over al .
And I think you have conquered self-love as wel .
Look into the pool. What do you see?” Julia returned to the pool, lay down, and looked once more.
“I see the leaves of the trees and the sky beyond.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Nothing,” she replied, confused.
“Look again,” urged the monk. “Is there anything missing?”
Julia peered back into the waters and let out a gasping breath. “I cannot see myself!” The monk’s eyes twinkled al the brighter. “That is the answer I hoped for. You have set love for yourself behind you, and in its place you wil serve others. Come.” He stood and held out a hand. “My people are waiting for you to lead them. We must go now, and prepare for the Great Remembrance!” He clapped his hands and the eagle flew upwards, no longer needed. Gaius would guide them back to the garden.
Onward they marched, heading towards the ruined garden and the Great Remembrance. And as they walked both pondered the same thought: Tonight, we shal do more than remember the past.
We shal change the future!
CHAPTER
15
It was time to test the cannon. Peter had risen early, wanting to plan for the day ahead and figure out exactly how he was going to throw the sinister Lords of Aedyn into chaos. By the time the slave entered with a tray holding a meagre breakfast, he stil wasn’t sure his plan would work. So much stil depended on luck.
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