The Seven Swords (16 page)

24 - ON THE ESCAPE FROM CASTEL DEORC WÆTERS

Just as Artie stepped into
the Shrine of Horrors, Qwon turned onto her side. She'd been tossing and turning all night, trying to shake the nerves that wouldn't let her rest.

The escape was about to commence.

The plan was straightforward: As soon as the blackout went into effect, Bors would subdue Dred and open his door. Bors would create one of his special odorless scentlocks, and under the cover of darkness Qwon and Shallot would follow him to a secret passage. They would take this and emerge on the hillside well beyond the Castel's walls. From there, they would haul butt to the rendezvous point.

Bors assured them that the Castel and the immediate area were practically abandoned, and that they wouldn't encounter much resistance during the actual escape. The real danger, he said, lay outside the Castel. Since Morgaine had dispatched most of her army to the countryside to try to find out how Merlin was stealing her power, they could run into Fenlandian forces at any time.

Qwon was pretty freaked out by all this.

She was also stressing about Dred and Excalibur. Qwon worried that she wouldn't be able to stop Shallot from hurting Dred even
after
Bors had subdued him. And as for Artie's sword, according to Bors it was just too closely guarded. They would have to come back for it, and The Anguish, through some kind of magic portal after they hooked up with Artie.

Qwon thought of all these things as she lay in front of the birdbath, her blankets pulled to her chin. Her nose was sealed with scraps of cloth against the impending fairy scentlock, and her staff was tucked under her side.

But then Dred's door unlatched. That wasn't supposed to happen yet! It opened slightly and Dred urged, “Qwon, come here!”

Qwon leaped to her feet and walked quickly to the door. Dred was framed by the light of his room and he held out his hand. His face was in shadow. “I'm taking you away.”

“What?” Qwon said, her heart racing.

“She wants to execute you. She wants
me
to execute you,” Dred explained regretfully.

He retreated into his room. “Come in.”

But Qwon didn't understand. She didn't understand because for the first time she could see Dred's face.

And it belonged to Artie Kingfisher.

“I don't—you look—
who are you?
” she pleaded.

The lights blinked and went out just as Dred explained quietly, “I'm his brother.”

Shallot sprang into action, pushing between Qwon and Dred, her scent going crazy. Qwon yelled, “No!” but the fairy was too fast.

Dred was totally taken by surprise and immediately dazed by her scentlock. Bors, who'd been hiding in Dred's room, gave up his invisibility and helped Shallot by delivering a blow to the back of Dred's neck, knocking him out. As Dred collapsed to the floor, Bors shook one of his hands and a faint light ignited in his palm. Bors worked quickly, and before Qwon could count to five, Dred was bound to the posts of his bed with plastic zip ties and gagged with a sock.

“There,” Shallot said, breathing hard.

Qwon couldn't believe it. “Why did you do that?”

“What do you mean? The plan was to subdue him. It didn't go exactly as we expected, but there he is, subdued,” Shallot huffed.

“But he looks . . . he looks just like Artie.”

Bors stepped to Shallot and made a series of urgent hand signals.

Qwon got her first good look at their rescuer, who apparently was a mute. He was a little shorter than Shallot but just as long-limbed. He was skinny but looked very strong. His hair was also pink and black. His skin was much darker and had a red tinge, like the color of fall leaves. His eyes were the bluest she'd ever seen.

“He says that Dred is Artie's twin,” Shallot said matter-of-factly. “He says Dred just found out. His mother had been keeping it secret from him. He says we need to go, now.”

Qwon knew that this last part was true and forced herself not to think about the fact that Dred was Artie's brother. She said, “Cut one of his hands free.”

“What?” Shallot exclaimed.

“Cut one of his hands free, or I'm not leaving.”

“No!” Shallot cried. “He's lucky I don't slit his throat for what he did to us!” Her scent was so strong Qwon could taste it.

But Bors wasn't upset. He moved to Dred's side and pressed a knife with a wavy blade into the tie around Dred's left hand. It snapped and his arm fell limply to the bed. Bors nodded to Qwon and went over to the exit. He beckoned to them and closed his hand around the light, throwing the room into utter darkness.

Shallot huffed, took Qwon roughly by the arm, and walked her to Bors. Shallot guided Qwon's hand onto Bors's sinewy shoulder and said, “Don't let go.” She then stepped behind Qwon and said, “Ready.”

The door opened, and as it did Qwon became aware of a very odd absence of smell through her mouth. This must have been Bors's scentlock. It smelled like nothing. It smelled like oblivion.

Bors stepped into the hall, and Qwon forced her feet to move. They went up and down stairs and seemingly around in circles. Qwon recalled the roundabout route Dred had taken when he first carried her to the courtyard. It was as if there was no end to this castle's weirdness. Qwon bumped into walls and fell down three times. All along, Bors moved with a purpose.

For several minutes they passed through Castel Deorc Wæters without hearing or seeing any sign of another person. But then they heard someone say, “Hey, who goes—unh.”

It was like he'd been struck dumb. The scentlock. For good measure, Qwon stuffed the cloth into her nose a little more with her free hand.

They descended a final staircase and walked through a stone hallway. Finally Bors stopped. He turned to Qwon, and her hand fell from his shoulder. He patted her twice on the forearm, and even though she couldn't see the fairy, she understood. He was saying, “Well done.”

“Thanks,” Qwon whispered.

“Can we risk some light?” Shallot asked.

The answer came as Bors turned on the light in his hand.

They were at the end of a subterranean hall. Bors pointed at the wall next to him as if to say, “Here it is.”

It was a small opening, low and rough. They were going to have to crawl.

“I don't know,” Qwon said, taking a couple steps back.

“What do you mean?” Shallot demanded.

“That looks pretty tight,” Qwon said.

“It looks fine to me,” Shallot replied. “Besides, you got a better idea?”

Qwon slumped. “No.”

Bors put a gentle hand on Qwon's shoulder and looked her in the eye.

“See, he says it's okay. Let's go,” Shallot said brusquely.

Qwon turned to Bors. His gaze was very comforting. “All right,” Qwon said. “Lead the way, Bors.”

He grinned, dropped to his knees, and disappeared into the passage.

Qwon got down and peered in. The air was damp and the rustlings of a scurrying Bors could be heard from inside. It sounded like he'd already gone a fair distance. She crawled in cautiously, her eyes closed with fear. She hated small places, and her knees already hurt. As she made her way down the passage, she realized she'd never missed her old, normal life so dearly.

 

Dred came to just as the escapees entered the tunnel.

He was greeted with a throbbing head and his mother's nauseating voice as it beckoned him over the walkie-talkie.

“Mordred, where
are
you?”

Dred strained against his ties. Luckily, his captors had left one hand free. He pulled the sock from his mouth. It took him several minutes to get his other hand undone, and another minute to unbind his feet. When he was free, he sat and rubbed his head.

He smiled.

Qwon had escaped, and he didn't care if the fairy had too.

Dred stumbled to his desk. He grabbed a flashlight, turned it on, strapped on the Peace Sword, and picked up the walkie-talkie. “Coming, Mum,” he said, and then, because he didn't want to hear Morgaine yet, he switched it off.

When he reached Morgaine's room, her doors were open, and a cool, undulating light spilled out. Dred recognized it as magic light, not electric light. She'd found some reserve of power, and Dred knew that she'd be back to her younger self, brimming with confidence.

He took a deep breath and entered.

Sure enough, Morgaine was in battle-witch mode. She floated in the air, working her hands around a gray and misty ball that flashed from within like a small thunderstorm. Eekan, the jaybird from the failed raid in Surmik, turned tight circles in the air around her head.

The witch wore a buxom purple breastplate adorned with silvery-white etchings of flowers and ribbons and lace. Her long hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of her head, and jutting from this in every direction were dozens of crisscrossing, thorny twigs. Wrapped around her head was a formfitting silver band that descended in a point over her nose and made her look like a bird. The tacky bangles she usually wore were gone, replaced with heavy brass bracelets that covered her arms from wrist to elbow. She wore poofy pink pants and had on knee-high black riding boots with pointed silver toes. Her sangrealitic dagger was strapped to her side, and she wore a pink hooded cape that just covered her bottom.

Dred had never seen her so done up.

Two other things stood out.

One was that Excalibur and The Anguish were hooked up to a generator-like thing, which hummed quietly. Morgaine must have been using the swords to help her gather strength.

The other was that the sangrealitic picture machine was sitting on a chest-high pedestal in the middle of the room. It held two images on a split screen. One was of the empty portico where Qwon and Shallot had been kept. The other was of a scrabble of rock on some hillside. Just above the rock was a small, rough opening.

His heart quickened and his palms went cold.

“Ah, you're here,” Morgaine said. She continued to work the storm in her hands as it lit up from inside in yellows and greens.

“I am,” Dred said, his voice shamefully cracking.

“Give me your sword.”

“Why—” But he was cut short by the grating sound of his blade flying from its scabbard and joining Excalibur and the fairy weapon at the generator. Morgaine waved her hand at Mordred's weapon, and it was quickly wrapped in wires and hooked into the array.

“I need it more than you,” she explained. The little storm made a loud howl as Eekan
ca-caw
ed
feverishly.

“I'll need it too,” Dred said, with an amount of anger that surprised even him.

“Is that so, pet? And who would you use it against?”

Dred scowled. “I can think of someone.”

Morgaine hissed as her bird dived for his head. Without landing, it pecked at his hair and beat his face with its wings. It didn't hurt him so much as piss him off even more.

Dred batted the bird away and tried to look defiant. Did she know that he'd discovered her old lab? That—and Qwon's safety—was all that concerned him.

“Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Mordred?” she asked.

“The prisoners escaped,” he said flatly.

“Yes. And you wouldn't have had anything to do with that, now, would you?”

“No.” Dred figured this was sort of true, since he'd only meant to help Qwon and not Shallot. And besides, it didn't go as he'd planned. “I have a bump on my head to prove it if you don't believe me.”

“Liar!” Morgaine snarled, descending to the floor. A bolt of orange lightning jumped from the storm ball and struck at Dred's feet, and he jumped back.

“I'm not lying, Mum! There was another fairy!”

“Yes, yes,” Morgaine said dismissively. “Bors le Fey. I know about him. Good at sneaking, but otherwise a rank amateur. I've intercepted all of his communiqués.” As she said this, she nodded her chin at a contraption that looked like a typewriter attached to an electronic gadget with an antenna. “Regardless, you're still lying. You were helping that girl. That
condemned
girl. What kind of fool do you take me for, Mordred? I know you talked to her. I know you think that you're her
friend
.”

“I'm her kidnapper, nothing more.”

“You are her accomplice
and
a liar!” Morgaine accused. “I know you killed my Smash! My innocent little Smash!” The jaybird squealed as if it had lost its best friend. But Dred was happy to hear Morgaine say this. If she thought Dred, not the fairy, had killed the little spy, then that meant she didn't know about Dred's visit to the lab.

If he ever met this Bors le Fey, Dred would thank him dearly, fairy or not.

“He died quickly, Mum. And just so you know, I loved Smash. But better he die than you be able to spy on me,
your own son
! Talk about liars!”

“Pshaw!” Morgaine exclaimed as she started to spin like a top. “I am Morgaine, Lordess of Fenland,
and I have no son
!”

Silver strands shot from holes in the floor and wrapped around Dred. They were tight and as they pressed his legs together, he lost his balance. He hit the floor hard and stifled a cry. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

“Now that you're comfortable,” Morgaine said sweetly, “you can watch the show with me. Let's see how quickly they can run.”

“Aren't you going to be ready for them when they come out of that hole?”

“Yes and no, love.”

Dred frowned. After a moment he said, “You're going to let them escape, aren't you?”

Morgaine rose into the air again, her voice echoing in its corners: “Of course I'm going to let them escape, you dim-witted dolt. Artie has opened another crossover—the one that will lead him to Qwon's sword—and when he returns with it, he is supposed to rendezvous with Qwon and the fairies. He believes that he can rescue her, then come back here to snatch the remaining swords and gate to Avalon. Ha! Fool. I will follow the prisoners, kill his knights, take the other swords for myself, and bring this so-called king back here as my most esteemed prisoner. Then I will take the pommel and mend Excalibur! After that, no one will be able to stop me!”