The Fire King (28 page)

They kept going until there was only one door left. The last one in the corridor. William glanced apprehensively at the others. What would they find inside? Something to help them? Broken hopes?

Katerina nodded, and William pushed the door. It swung open on squeaky hinges. William moved the torch into the doorway, pushing the darkness back into the room.

The first thing they noticed was that it wasn't another cell. It was a large chamber furnished with tables and chairs.

But besides that, it was empty.

William entered the room. Thick dust covered every available surface, and it seemed this was all there was for them to find. William walked slowly around the perimeter, trying to fight off the despair that was threatening to overwhelm him. Why had Thomas the Rhymer sent them here? Will had been sure it had something to do with the Raven King, but it seemed this was just an old, forgotten prison. It didn't seem as if anyone had been here for centuries.

The torchlight revealed another door up ahead. William brightened. Maybe there was another room. He hurried over and pulled it open, but he was doomed to disappointment. It was just an empty closet.

He slammed the door shut and turned away. As he did so, his foot sent something skittering across the floor, raising a cloud of dust into the air. He lowered the torch and found a book lying on the floor. He picked it up and examined it. It was covered with red leather. He opened it up, skimming over the spidery, untidy scrawl until his eyes spotted a familiar phrase.

The Raven King.

“Over here,” he called, taking the book to one of the tables. The book wasn't big. It was more of a journal, used to record a series of notes. Little clumps of information. Katerina and Corrigan joined him.

“‘Notes on the Raven King,'” he read. “‘Classification: Very Sensitive. If you are not a member of the Invisible Order, stop reading now; otherwise, your eyes will boil in your skull. And this is a promise from Merlin the Enchanter.'”

William hesitated and looked at the others. Corrigan waved his hand impatiently.

“Go on. It's a bluff.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Now carry on.”

William licked his lips, then carried on reading. “‘Who is the Raven King? It is probably more appropriate to ask
what
is the Raven King. He is a protector, a watcher over Britain. The legends say that whenever Britain is in danger, the Raven King will be awoken to protect the land from her enemies.

“‘It was Bran the Blessed who first came to this power. He was an early British King, a member of the Invisible Order. It happened during one of the wars with the fey. Through a series of circumstances too complicated to reveal here, he was chosen by Mother London to channel her power during times of danger. (I hasten to add, he came up with his title all by himself.
Bran
is a Welsh word. It means ‘blessed crow.' So he played around with it and came up with the Raven King. Bran always was one for show and pomp.)

“‘The power of the Raven King is a fearsome thing to behold. It burns bright and fast, devouring all who would stand in its way. Enemies tumble before the Raven King like trees in a gale. He is the last protector of Britain, but his is a terrible power and must only be used when all else is lost. I hasten to repeat this. If I am not there to advise you on this, make sure this is your last hope. The Raven King must not be summoned lightly.

“‘And just how do you summon him? Mother London spoke an incantation, something to be repeated at the proper place at the time of Britain's need.'”

William looked at the others excitedly. “The incantation is here. Merlin wrote it down!”

“Skip over it for the moment,” said Corrigan. “Finish his notes.”

William nodded. “‘In the end, Bran fell in battle to a fey spear, but only after he saved us all from the armies of Faerie. Even when channeling the power of Mother London, the Raven King is vulnerable to normal weaponry. Something we were not aware of at the time. After the battle, we buried Bran beneath the Tower of London. It was his final wish.

“‘Even as I write this, I wonder if I am doing the right thing. But I have no other choice. Events are moving fast, and Nimue comes for me. There are a hundred things to do before Morgan Le Fey's trap is sprung, and time is running out. I do not know what will happen. I do not know if I will survive. So I have no choice but to put ink to parchment and hope that this information survives until it is needed. I will take it into the Order's prisons. They are unused now, so the information should be safe. Why even bother? I do not know. It is a gut feeling, an inkling that someday it might be needed. Am I being coerced? Is it Fate? I know not. Only time will tell whether this was a mistake or the right thing to do.'”

William paged through the book. “There's more stuff here, but nothing else about the Raven King.”

The three were silent for a moment. Finally Katerina

cleared her throat. “So … we need to read this spell or whatever it is?” “So it would seem. And it will wake Bran the Blessed. The

Raven King.” “The Tower of London it is, then,” said William.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-FIVE

In which London burns and sacrifices must be made.

M
erlin leaned heavily on Nimue's arm as they all climbed back up the stairs to Cob's study. As they went, Nimue tried to explain everything that was happening between Titania and Kelindria, with frequent interruptions from Emily and Jack. By the time they reached Cob's office, Merlin knew as much as everyone else about what was happening in London.

He didn't like it. Not one bit.

“The Fire King!” he sputtered weakly. “What kind of a fool summons such a creature? It will devour the whole of Britain before the week is out. And what if it gets aboard a ship? It can hibernate in a lantern. The whole of Europe could be consumed.”

“The question we have to ask ourselves,” said Wren, “is how
do
we stop it?”

Merlin glanced at him and frowned. “You seem to be going through something of a growth spurt.”

Emily looked at Wren. It was true. He was taller, about half his normal human height. Plus, his features weren't so goblinlike. She could easily see his normal features beneath the wrinkly skin. She turned to Jack. He was changing as well. Even as she watched, his hair returned to its original brown color, his skin fading to its normal shading. He smiled at Emily.

“Nice to have you back, Snow,” he said.

Emily raised her hands and saw that her disguise spell had also worn off. They were back to their natural forms again.

“I think you should tell me exactly who you are and why you are here,” said Merlin.

Emily took a deep breath. Merlin had no idea what he was asking. But it had to be done. If Merlin was to understand the enormity of what was going on, he had to know exactly how they got there.

Emily told him everything, starting with her stumbling across Corrigan back in her own time, about finding out the information about the Raven King. Everything.

After she had finished, Merlin and Nimue both stared at them in amazement.

“And you accomplished all this by yourself?”

“Not by myself, no.” Emily nodded at Jack. “I had help.”

Jack saluted her and grinned.

“Still,” said Merlin. “That is a lot to happen to someone so—”

“Please don't say, ‘someone so young,'” said Emily. “I've had to be a grown-up for a long time now. Young was when my da used to read me stories in bed. That was a long time ago now.”

Merlin looked at her sadly. “As you wish,” he said.

“So how do we stop this Fire King?” asked Jack, eager to change the subject.

“How do we stop him?
Can
we stop him? It depends on how much he has fed. The Fire King sends his minions out into the flames. They spread with the wind, growing stronger, burning more and more. And while they do this, he feeds on their power. The more the fire spreads, the stronger he gets. If we want to have any hope of stopping it, it will have to be soon.”

“You won't be stopping anyone, meddler,” said a scratchy voice.

Everyone whirled around to find the Morrigan and the White Knight standing in the doorway. The knight had a heavy crossbow pointed at Merlin.

“This is what I'm thinking,” said the Morrigan. “I'm thinking you should have sensed us. I'm thinking you're weak after your little confinement. I'm also thinking that Kelindria is going to be very grateful to find you locked away in her prison.”

Nimue tensed, ready to attack, but Merlin grabbed hold of her arm. “Not now,” he said in a low voice.

The Morrigan turned to Emily. “And you. Quite the bonus. Kelindria's been wanting words with you all day. Now that she's Queen, she'll most likely just cook you over a fire. Me, I'd eat you. Slowly. Fingers first. Then the arms and legs. So you can watch yourself bleed out. There's nothing like a meal with the music of screams to accompany it. Makes the whole thing so much more tastier. Now move.”

They moved reluctantly toward the door. The Morrigan led the way while the White Knight brought up the rear, her crossbow pointed at Merlin's back. They moved back through the castle to the room with the Faerie Gate in it. When they were all gathered, the Morrigan pointed at Nimue. “Take the key out. Slowly.”

Nimue did as she was instructed.

“Bring us out at the Hyde Park Gate,” said the Morrigan. “Kelindria's place isn't far from there.”

Nimue rearranged the tiny branches and shoots of the key.

“Put it in the gate.”

Nimue looked at Merlin, but the old man just nodded wearily. He looked exhausted, as if the walk up the stairs had taken all his meager energy.

Nimue placed the key into the wooden circle, and the wall behind it was replaced by roiling clouds.

The Morrigan gestured at Jack. “You go first. Then come back.” She looked at Nimue. “Just in case you've opened the gate into one of the Forbidden Lands.”

“Um …” Jack looked deeply uncertain. “Forbidden Lands?”

“Don't worry,” said Nimue. “It opens into Hyde Park.”

Jack still hesitated.

“I'll go,” said Emily, stepping forward.

The Morrigan grabbed her by the arm, her black nails digging into Emily's skin. “You're not going anywhere, little one. I'm not letting you out of my sight.”

“Fine,” said Jack, He stepped into the gate.

They waited, and a moment later he came back through again. “All clear.”

The Morrigan nodded. “Let's go, then.” She pushed Emily forward. Nimue helped Merlin limp into the gate. Emily followed behind, stepping into the clouds.

Darkness washed over her. Emily's stomach lurched. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. She staggered, almost falling. The Morrigan released her grip.

And then she was falling to her knees on the dry grass of Hyde Park. Emily pushed herself to her feet and looked around. It was the same tree where she had met the Dagda back in her own time. The tree where the battle had been fought and she and the others had escaped. The Morrigan stepped through the gate, followed quickly by the White Knight.

The Morrigan had the key in her hand. She tucked it away into a pouch on her belt, then held out her hand to Emily.

“And yours.”

Emily had no choice but to hand her key over. She watched in anguish as the Morrigan pushed it into the same pouch. “Now follow me,” she ordered. “And if one of you so much as breathes in a way I don't like, you'll get a crossbow bolt through your neck. And I don't think you want that. Besides the difficulty breathing, you'll get blood all over your nice clothes.”

She cackled and headed off through the park. Jack moved forward to walk next to Emily. “What are we going to do now?” he whispered. “We can't just let them lock us up. That will be the end of everything. The Fire King will win.”

Emily had been thinking exactly the same thing. But so far she hadn't managed to come up with any kind of plan. “I don't know what we're going to do,” she answered. “Just keep your eyes open and hope something turns up.”

It took them an hour to walk through London, and all the while Emily couldn't take her eyes off the orange glow that lit up the southern sky. She'd already known that Kelindria had released the Fire King, but to see the flames actually casting their eerie glow against the smoke and clouds made her realize just how badly they had failed. The Fire King was free. His hands were spreading out across London, burning everything they touched, claiming everything to feed his hunger.

What surprised Emily most of all was that there was no panic in the areas they passed through. Everyone was aware of the fire. People were out in the streets, watching the distant flames and discussing how much of the city they thought would burn. But none of them seemed overly alarmed. They had seen it all before and had survived (according to those she overheard) much bigger blazes than the one that had started up just after midnight.

Emily wanted to scream at them, to tell them to pack up and leave, but she knew it would be pointless. She was just a girl, after all. They would look on her with pity, pat her on the head, and tell her not to worry. That the grown-ups would deal with the nasty fire.

By the time they reached their destination, Emily could hear the distant crackling of the flames, could see the sparks bobbing and weaving up into the night sky, pushed higher and higher by the fierce, hot winds that breathed extra life into the flames, urging them farther and faster through the dry alleys and streets of the city.

It was hard to focus on her own problems with everything around them cast in dark shades of orange and red, but when Emily finally looked at the house the Morrigan had brought them to, she realized she had been here before.

It was Kelindria's dwelling, where Emily and the others had been captured and locked away.

“You can't keep us here,” she said. “The fire is coming. We'll be burned alive.”

The Morrigan chuckled. “Maybe better for you if that did happen, but don't worry yourself. The Fire King will leave Kelindria's places alone. He knows better'n that. Fact is, this is probably the only safe place left in London. Once the Fire King gets going, he's going to eat his way through everything.” The Morrigan grinned. “So take a good look around. It's the last you'll ever see of your precious London.”

The Morrigan pushed open the gate and entered the garden. The White Knight herded the others through. Merlin and Nimue walked in front; Emily, Jack, and Wren behind them; with the White Knight bringing up the rear. The Morrigan walked confidently along the overgrown path that led to the house. Emily hesitated, staring around the weedchoked garden. The White Knight prodded her in the back.

“Move,” she said.

Emily reluctantly stepped forward. It wasn't just because she didn't want to be locked up. It was because the last time she had been in this garden, they had been chased by the Sluagh and had only just managed to escape with their lives.

A movement in the shadows beneath an ancient willow tree froze her in her steps. The shadows shifted, a dim outline moving against the darkness.