The Minions of Time (11 page)

While Watcher met and planned with Rotag and Tusin, Batwing left on a spying trip to the castle. He returned after a long while with word that while the Sword of the Wormling was not there, he had overheard wonderful news about the Wormling himself. Batwing told of his possibly being spotted on his way to the White Mountain.

Watcher couldn't help but be overjoyed. “He must have been caught somehow, thrown in with the others, and found a way to escape.”

“It does sound like the nature of the Wormling,” Tusin said. “But why would he be going in the direction of the White Mountain?”

“Perhaps he has discovered where the Son is,” Rotag said.

“We have friends near the White Mountain,” Watcher said. “I must go there at once.”

“It is a long journey,” Batwing said, “even for me. By the time you arrive, the Dragon would have been there and gone.”

“Is there some other way?” Watcher said.

Tusin tapped his lower lip with a claw and paced. “Perhaps.”

Rotag glanced at him. “I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking.”

Tusin looked up. “You know he is sorry for what he did—”

“He betrayed us and the King,” Rotag snapped. “He is the reason many died at the hands of the Dragon and why we must meet in secret.”

“Who?” Watcher said.

Tusin sat near her and leaned forward, paws on his knees. “Many seasons ago, four of us pledged allegiance to the King and vowed to stand against the Dragon. The fourth was Machree, a flyer with a great wingspan.”

“But not much sense,” Rotag mumbled.

“Somehow the Dragon or his followers got him to reveal the location of our council. Many died.”

“What happened to Machree?” Watcher said.

“He took the blood money and flew away,” Rotag said.

“He lives in the Great Forest,” Tusin said, “one of the King's favorite places. He loved to walk there in the early morning.”

“It might take days to find him,” Rotag said. “And besides, I am totally against this.”

“I could find him and have him here within the hour,” Batwing said.

Rotag rolled his eyes and shook his great head.

“It's worth the risk,” Watcher said. “Please find him, Batwing. And hurry.”

Owen's transport flyer raced into the teeth of a strong, biting wind, so he steered it lower to warmer air. He could tell the huddled people in the cages were freezing.

Everything in Owen screamed that he should find the Queen and release her, yet
The Book of the King
made clear that the next prophecy to fulfill was that he return to the Highlands.

The time of the Son draws near. When the Wormling has accomplished the breach of the four portals of the Dragon, prepare the way for the armies of the King. Let every kindred, tongue, and tribe of the Lowlands ready themselves for battle, for the time of the Great Stirring has begun. And this stirring will lead to the Final Union of the Son and his bride. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad when the signs point to his return.

Owen let the words wash over him anew. How he wished he could read
The Book of the King
front to back—including the missing chapter—with the new knowledge that he himself was the Son. But why were there blank pages in the back? He had never read the end of the battle with the Dragon. It was shrouded in mysterious language. Had he missed a prophecy?

A cry came from the cage beneath the other flyer, not of fear but delight. The clouds dissolved to reveal splendor in the distance. The White Mountain rose, majestic and brilliant, the sun glinting off its snowcapped slopes, golden and white against a dazzling blue sky.
I wish Watcher could see this
, Owen thought, nearly choking up.

As they drew closer, the transport flyers dipped and jerked through wind swells like skiffs on the waves near the islands of Mirantha.

Owen guided them past the villages at the base of the mountain. Mothers and fathers called for children in snow-covered fields, and the kids stared and waved as they passed.

They rose through the pass where vaxors had attacked them, and Owen shuddered at the memory of how far Humphrey had jumped from the precipice.

Why had the King entrusted Owen with this responsibility? Had the King given him power he hadn't tapped into yet? What rights might he have as the Son that he didn't know or understand?

Though Owen wanted to know everything now, he knew he would not have been able to handle it all at once. Had he been told back at the bookstore every detail of his journey, he'd surely have given up before he started. First he had to come to believe he was the Wormling. Now he had to accept the responsibility of being the Son. Knowing the King's blood coursed through his veins gave him courage and strength. He had never felt like royalty in the bookstore. His father the King had mapped out the plan thus far, and Owen was determined to follow him the rest of the way.

Watcher had the book and Mucker, who was vital to the next stage of Owen's quest. His plan, once he reached Yodom, was to find her in the caves where he had left her. But he had to do this quickly before the Dragon and his cohorts discovered him.

The farther up the mountain he flew, the more he felt as if he were in a shaken snow globe. Huge flakes came sideways, so fast and heavy he couldn't even see the other transport flyer. He just hoped the flyers could sense the mountain and not plow into it.

Owen forced the flyer to descend, and the tether tightened as they fell. Near the ground the flyer flapped faster, hovering and blowing much snow away.

“We'll walk from here,” Owen said as he opened the cages. “We can find shelter in a nearby village.”

“The people are cold,” Connor said. “Let's build a fire and wait out the storm.”

Owen pulled Connor out of earshot of the others. “You have a heart of a warrior, but we must work together. Soon you'll be in charge of all these people. I want you as my general to oversee the troops.”

“Where are you going?” Connor said.

“I have an important mission in the Highlands. I must again breach the four portals. Then we must prepare for the wedding of the Son and the battle with the Dragon.”

“In that order?” Connor said.

Owen closed his eyes and recited from
The Book of the King
the first words he had read from it in the Highlands:

“When the shadows of two worlds collide and the four portals are breached, know that the end of the reign of the evil one is near. Men will bring news of the return of justice and righteousness, along with the return of the Son. What has been two will be made one throughout the land. Make way a path in the wilderness for the Searcher. Open the portal for the Wormling, for he will be armed with the book.

“Let there be rejoicing in every hill and valley, from the tops of the mountains to the depths of the oceans. Let every creature that has breath, on earth and under and over, cry out. Victory is at hand. The shadows will be dispelled, and the Son will return for his bride.”

Connor stared at Owen. “So you don't know.”

“I'm not sure. Perhaps the war ends before the wedding begins. Perhaps the other way around. The book does not say specifically.”

Connor's wife came and whispered, “The women and children are losing feeling in their fingers and toes.”

Owen took off his animal skin and gave it to her.

“Prepare the children,” Connor told her. “We move up the mountain shortly.”

Dreyanna looked at him sharply, but he nodded and she went back to the others.

Owen untied the rope from one transport flyer and smacked its back end, as if to release it. The beast simply looked at him as if it wasn't going anywhere without its companion.

“Maybe they're married,” Connor said.

“Maybe they don't want to go back to the Dragon.”

Batwing returned to Watcher and the others with the news that he had found Machree in the forest, but the bird would not even listen.

“I told you he was not worth considering,” Rotag said.

“Did you tell him the importance of this mission?” Watcher said.

Batwing nodded. “I tried everything short of bribery, but he said he knew the council members were against him and that he would rather be left alone.”

Watcher looked at the ground. “All that speed and power and ability. How can he let that go to waste? To have strength and not use it for the King is—”

“Normal for most,” Tusin said. “And understand this about the King: He does not use us because we are strong. He uses us in spite of our weaknesses. We all have something that holds us back. Perhaps our pride. Perhaps some physical difficulty. Lack of intelligence. Slowness of speech. The King uses our faults even more than he uses our strengths.”

“What does that have to do with getting me back to the Wormling?” Watcher said.

Rotag cleared his throat. “Perhaps the King has prepared some other way. Or perhaps he does not want you back with the Wormling just now.”

“But I have the book. And I have Mucker. He needs these. I sense it with everything in me.” She turned to Batwing. “Can you take me to Machree?”

“Much too dangerous,” Tusin said.

Rotag huffed. “Out of the question.”

“The Dragon's forces would be on you in a second. Batwing can fly under their vision and skirt them, but they would—”

“I have no other choice,” Watcher said. “I have to find the Wormling. Batwing, will you take me?”

Batwing looked at the others, then nodded.

Watcher crawled out of the underground cavern muddy and wet, which made her more difficult to spot from the air. Batwing flew ahead of her, searching for any unfriendlies, while Watcher darted from tree to tree until they came to the Great Forest.

“Wait here,” Batwing said.

Watcher hid behind a rock, trying to stay still but mostly shivering and her teeth chattering.

A whoosh above startled her, and she spotted an enormous winged creature heading for her. If Batwing hadn't described Machree beforehand, she would have sworn the bird was from the Dragon.

The wings were multicolored—but mostly brown and white—and the face was that of a hawk with a sharp beak and piercing eyes. “You are the Watcher?” he said, his voice high-pitched.

She nodded. “I've come to plead with you on behalf of the Wormling.”

The bird blinked and quickly looked both ways. “Pleading will do you no good.”

“You do not wish to help the King?”

“Perhaps if it were the King asking.”

“The Wormling represents the King. He is on an important mission from him. I have
The Book of the King
here with me to prove it.”

Machree looked down his beak at the book and smirked. “Why would you want to lug about so many pages full of scribblings?”

“Well, these are the words of the King—”

“The little bat says you have powers. Like what?”

“I'm a Watcher. I can detect invisibles above.”

“But not below?”

“Correct. If they are in the water or underground, I do not sense them.”

“Well, I live in this forest. I have no need of you or your abilities.”

Machree spread his wings, but before he could lift off, Watcher shouted, “I should have known! Tusin was right! He and Rotag said you would not help!”

The bird settled again. “You know those two as well, do you?”

“They helped in a previous skirmish with the Dragon.”

“Let them take you where you want to go.”

Watcher was desperate to think of what to say next. She couldn't let Machree fly away—she would never reach the Wormling.

“They cannot get me there in time. Besides, I cannot trust them like I can trust you.” She had said this to impress and, she hoped, to change the bird's mind. But a strange feeling came over her, as if she had eaten something rotten.

Machree narrowed his eyes. “And what will you offer me?”

“Offer? I have nothing.”

“Surely if this Wormling is an agent of the King, he has riches at his disposal.”

“I suppose, but I cannot offer what I do not have.”

Machree seemed to be thinking. “Intercede for me. Tell the Wormling I helped you on the condition that I become a member of the King's cabinet.”

Watcher locked eyes with the bird. “I will if you take me there now.”

He knelt and Watcher climbed on his back, but as they rose she still felt uneasy. In fact, she was already filled with regret.