The Invisible Tower (21 page)

“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.

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?”

“I'd love some, thanks,” Lance said, nodding curtly at Artie.

Artie nodded back. He bounded up the stairs and hustled down the hall. There were several doors but it was obvious which room was Qwon's—her door was plastered with posters of pop icons.

Artie took a breath. He raised his arm and knocked.

Nothing.

He knocked again.

Still nothing.

He jiggled the doorknob and, finding it locked, knocked one more time.

“Who is it?” Qwon asked in a small, shaky voice.

“It's Artie. Can you open the door?”

“Artie! No! Get out—” Her voice was muffled as if by a pillow.

Artie yanked out Excalibur and shredded the door to pieces. What he saw on the other side didn't make him feel very good.

Qwon stood at the far end of her room, restrained and gagged from behind by a humanoid figure covered in soft, bright-green moss. Rising from the tuft on the top of its head were two short and crooked stag's horns—one red, one blue.

Artie looked into Qwon's eyes, and they showed just how scared she was. But they also showed something else. It was almost like she was trying to tell him something.

Artie moved into the room and raised Excalibur. Its blade was blackish, and little dark sparks started falling from it.

Artie glanced quickly at the glass pommel of his sword. It swirled with the darkest black he'd ever seen. Of course! Excalibur could make a room totally dark if he asked it to!

Artie demanded, “Who sent you?”

The Mossman said nothing.

“Let her go!” the young king demanded.

The Mossman shook its head.

Artie punched with Excalibur and ordered, “Darkness!”

Blackness came in waves from Excalibur's blood channel and covered everything. It was like a giant octopus had joined the fun and completely inked out Qwon's room.

At this moment Lance and Mrs. Onakea, wondering what on earth was happening upstairs, arrived at the top of the landing. When Mrs. Onakea saw the void pulsating from Qwon's destroyed bedroom door, she instantly fainted. Lance caught her and laid her down gently. Then he unshouldered his bow, strung an arrow, and without hesitating stepped into the inky air.

Lance felt liked he'd walked into an abyss. With no frame of reference, he didn't know up from down or left from right. Seeking some stability, he dropped to a knee. He pulled the bowstring hard, making it ready to fire.

Artie had also been overwhelmed by the dark, but, lucky for him, Excalibur hooked him up with some sweet night vision.

Artie easily saw Qwon and her captor. Confused, the Mossman had moved toward the bathroom door. He'd dropped Qwon to the ground and was kneeling on the small of her back. The Mossman fumbled with a bag at his waist. Artie considered throwing Excalibur at him, but then he noticed Lance.

Artie glanced over his shoulder. Lance was pointed in the wrong direction. “Three o'clock!” Artie ordered.