Divided against Yourselves (Spell Weaver) (22 page)

CHAPTER 8: ONE HELL OF A LIP-LOCK

The good news? We still seemed to be on the same road, in the middle of the same forest, facing in the right direction to proceed on our trip to the headquarters of the Order of the Ladies of the Lake. The bad news? Blocking the road was now a chapel that covered the entire pathway and seemed to press unnaturally into the trees on either side of it. I could almost hear those trees screaming in protest. In theory, we could work our way through the forest and come out on the other side of the road, but I sensed that such a strategy was not really possible. If we tried, the chapel would simply relocate to block our new path. There was no way around, only through.

For those of you who are thinking, “OK, then just walk through the chapel,” the situation was more complicated than that. Clearly, this was no ordinary chapel. Quite aside from its sudden appearance in Gwynn’s kingdom, an intrusion that had Sir Arian and the other faeries fuming, the chapel was not adorned by any cross, and its front facade appeared to be black marble. Though I could not see the other outer walls very well, as far as I could tell, they were all black marble as well. The heavy bronze double entry doors had a disturbingly unbiblical portrayal of an army of skeletons surrounding a knight. Whatever this place was, it was not a Christian house of worship. Nonetheless, I was willing to bet its construction was typical in at least one way: it would have no back door, so there would be no walking through it. The only way to continue our journey would be to pass whatever test the creator of the chapel had in mind. Above the door hung the shields of many knights, presumably those who had earlier tried and failed to pass the test, if the fact that the shields were hanging upside down was any indication.

The dead knights we had faced had not been carrying shields. It did kind of make me wonder…

“Well, what now?” asked Dan. “I notice the door is slightly ajar. Someone seems to want us to come in.”

“But should we?” asked Carlos. “Why not just find a path through the forest and walk around?” I explained my thinking about that, with Sir Arian nodding grimly in agreement.

“If you want to reach your destination, someone will have to go in,” Sir Arian said unhappily, “but the situation is doubtful at best. I say we turn back. Gwynn will want to drive this abomination from his kingdom, and then you can proceed in safety.”

“We may not have that luxury,” I said sadly. “If Morgan Le Fay is behind this—” I started, only to be interrupted by an audible hiss from the faeries. “If she is,” I continued, “then this whole situation was set up precisely to get us to turn around. If that’s what she wants, I say we can’t give it to her.”

“Morgan would not dare such a thing in Gwynn’s kingdom,” objected Sir Arian.

“Someone has,” observed one of the other faeries.

“I’ll go in,” I said. “If Morgan spoke the truth, she needs me, so whatever is in there won’t kill me.”

“Morgan is not the only possibility,” said Nurse Florence. “If she is behind this, why send an army of the dead that could possibly have injured Carla and defeated her whole purpose?”

“The army gave us a hard time at first, but it was slow, and it was ill-equipped, at least as far as its armor was concerned” pointed out Dan. “If the same group had been given faerie armor, it would have been a different story. If you ask me, that battle was designed to throw us off a little, not to kill us. Morgan could be behind it.”

“Or it could be a preliminary test to determine who is worthy to enter the chapel, in which case any evil spell caster might be behind it,” argued Nurse Florence.

“Any insane, evil spell caster who believes he can risk the wrath of Gwynn ap Nudd,” corrected Sir Arian.

“The only way to know is to go inside,” I insisted. “From out here, we can all sense evil, but that’s about it.”

“If your mind is set on this course,” said Sir Arian, making little attempt to conceal his unhappiness about the idea, “then I will go in.”

“I can’t ask you to risk yourself, Sir Arian. This is my journey, so this is my battle.”

“This is all of our journey,” said Gordy loudly. “We are a team. Tal, you may be the leader, but you can’t shut us out.”

“I do not mean to be abrupt,” said Sir Arian, in a voice that suggested he really meant to be more than just abrupt. “However, all of you, Taliesin included, are
guests
here. You are our responsibility.” With a wave of his hand, he indicated the other faeries. “If anyone goes in, it will be I, and no other.” With that, he literally flew at the door, cutting off any further objection I might have had. However, just before he reached the chapel, the door slammed shut with a resounding clang. Sir Arian smashed into it at full speed and fell to the ground in a heap. Fortunately, Nurse Florence was on hand, and her healing power would work just as well on faeries as on humans. She and some of Sir Arian’s men moved him away from the chapel, at which point the door opened a little bit.

“Clearly, it wants someone specific,” suggested Stan.

“Or it wants humans, not faeries,” added Shar.

“Well, all we have now is trial and error—and I’m going to be the next trial,” I said firmly. If I was going to get this done, I needed to do it while Sir Arian was still unconscious.

What I had thought was a simple enough statement unleashed chaos. The faeries stepped in front of me only a little faster than the guys did.

“You will do as Sir Arian directs,” said one of the faeries menacingly. Well, at least he was trying to go for menacing, but what was he really going to do? Shoot me with his arrows?

“And what exactly has he directed?” I asked harshly. “He said he was going in. Clearly, he can’t. Has he given you orders to block my path? No, he hasn’t. So get out of my way!”

“His intent was clear enough,” said the faerie, not giving an inch. “You cannot pass.”

I found myself feeling a little desperate. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but I knew turning back was probably exactly what Morgan wanted, and I couldn’t allow anyone else to risk himself in the chapel. “I think we both know I can pass. The question is whether I have to sweep the road with you first.” The faerie still didn’t back down, but I made him flinch a little. Doubtless he was aware that faeries might be faster, but humans were stronger—and I could speed myself up if I needed to. He may also have heard about how well I passed Gwynn’s test a couple months back.

“Really?” asked Shar. “And are you going to sweep the road with all of us? Because you might have a little harder time getting past me than past one of our faerie friends.”

“Enough alpha-male competitiveness for one day!” shouted Nurse Florence from somewhere behind me. “I need you all to stay where you are and be quiet so I can properly heal Sir Arian.” Being sensitive to subtext, I knew that was directed more to me than to anyone else. From her point of view, I was the one creating the problem.

So I was all alone. As far as I could tell, the only hope of getting Carla to Wales and safely away from Morgan was for me to enter the chapel, a course of action everyone else was apparently dead-set against. Even Stan, whom I might have expected to stand up for me, had become part of the human wall blocking my path.

I looked over at Carla. Her beautiful face was so impassive that it might have belonged to a statue. Every instinct I had told me that if Morgan managed to capture her, Morgan would find a way to ensure that Alcina, and only Alcina, emerged from that coma. Carla would be as good as dead. And it would be as much my fault as her current condition was—unless I entered the chapel.

Silly as it was, I began scheming about how to take on all of my friends and the whole faerie escort. Obviously, I couldn’t take them all on physically, but perhaps there was some application of magic that would do the job, particularly if I could hit them with something that they weren’t expecting.

“I’ll go in,” shouted a high-pitched voice from behind me.

I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I had forgotten all about Khalid. Generally, he had been hanging close to Shar, so I hadn’t worried about him, but now he had taken one of his gigantic leaps and landed halfway to the chapel. Shar, caught by surprise and currently functioning at human speed, had no hope of catching him. The faeries might have had a shot, but they too were taken by surprise and didn’t react immediately.

“No!” I yelled, accelerating myself as I ran in his direction. Magic only works so fast, though, and I knew I could not reach a high enough speed in time to catch him. My only slim hope was that Shar was right, and the chapel only wanted humans, in which case Khalid’s half djinn nature might keep him out.

Khalid took another literal flying leap and landed right in front of the door. Either Shar was wrong, or Khalid’s strange trajectory confused the chapel, or the chapel had no idea what a half djinn was and hesitated a second too long. Regardless, Khalid was able to pop through the door, which slammed shut a second later. My heart pounding so hard that I felt as if it might rip out of my chest, I reached the door an agonizing few seconds after and grabbed the right side handle, but the double doors were frozen in place. Either the chapel was still confused, or it admitted only one at a time—or it had really wanted Khalid all along, which seemed unlikely. Regardless, I should have been paying better attention to him. Whatever else happened now, I had to get him out.

I raised White Hilt and hit the chapel door with all the power I could muster. The first blow barely made any impression, but as I kept hacking away, I could see it getting hotter. However, it was clearly no ordinary material, and it might take a long time to actually melt it or break it.

By this time pretty much everyone except Nurse Florence and Sir Arian had joined us. Shar started striking the door with Zom, trying to break whatever spell held it shut. “Aim for the crack between the two halves of the door,” suggested Stan. “That could be where the locking magic is.” It was hard to imagine that just a few months ago Stan had been a science geek, without a clue that magic even existed. Now he was fast becoming a magic geek as well, with an understanding of its operation more perceptive than perhaps anyone in our group except for me and Nurse Florence.

Sure enough, when Shar pushed his blade between the double doors, there was a loud creaking, followed by a green flash, and then the doors shuddered open. All of us rushed in, knowing that the locking spell might regenerate quickly.

Even with light pouring in from the open doorway, the interior was gloomy at best, and just as I suspected, in moments the door slammed shut behind us, leaving us in almost total darkness. There was a light near the altar, but its sickly radiance did not help much. The emerald glow of Zom helped, as did the fire of White Hilt, but neither seemed to create as much light as it should normally have done. Despite the limited light, I could see someone moving near the altar, but not Khalid. The shadowy form was taller and seemed to be female, but even that much was hard to tell.

“Khalid? Where are you?” Shar asked loudly. It was the only time I could remember hearing a note of panic in his voice.

“I’m here,” Khalid responded, but it sounded as if he were a thousand miles away, and I could not tell from what direction his voice was coming.

“Silence!” commanded the figure near the altar. “Who dares to bring an army into the Chapel Perilous? The test here is for one knight alone. All of you must leave or face a terrible curse.”

“In the name of Gwynn ap Nudd, king of this land, I order you to cease your threats, release the boy Khalid, and let us proceed on our way,” demanded one of the faeries, presumably Sir Arian’s second in command.

The shadowy figure laughed, and the sound echoed in the unnatural darkness. “I recognize not Gwynn ap Nudd nor any other king. I, and I alone, rule here.”

I recalled the name, Chapel Perilous, from Taliesin 1’s memories. Sir Lancelot had once told him of such a place. This Chapel Perilous was not exactly as Lancelot had described it, but then that was fifteen hundred years ago, give or take. The sorceress in charge might be different—or horrendously more experienced and hence potentially considerably more dangerous.

“Name yourself and your purpose, woman!” I shouted in a manner much like the original Taliesin’s, knowing that would work better than my normal teenage manner.

“Who are you to make demands of me?” hissed the stranger.

“I am Taliesin, bard to King Arthur and wielder of White Hilt,” I announced, raising the sword and causing it to flame more brightly. “I am also quite capable of burning this whole place to the ground if need be.”

She laughed again, even more derisively. “By entering the Chapel Perilous, you have come under its spell. The only way to leave is to complete the test. If you somehow succeed in destroying me or the building, all you will do is trap yourself forever, without hope of leaving.”

I doubted that was true, though the sorceress might believe it. More likely it was just a bluff. She was keeping her cool, but the very fact we had all gotten in when the chapel was clearly designed to admit only one at a time must have at least given her pause.

“What is your test?”

“The test is the boy’s, for he entered here first,” replied the sorceress. “The rest of you must wait your turns—outside.”

“Even in this light, our eyes are sharp enough to shoot her down,” whispered a nearby faerie.

“We don’t know where Khalid is,” I whispered back. “You might hit him accidentally.” To her, I responded, “I thought you just said we couldn’t leave now without passing the test.” The thing about some people who minds are still functioning in the Middle Ages is that they often miss that kind of logical flaw. There was a long pause as the sorceress puzzled over the problem.