Thursdays with the Crown (18 page)

The wizards had stopped shouting, but they were locked in some sort of silent magical struggle, their faces strained and their fists clenched, their eyes fixed on each other with an intensity that made Celie wonder if one or both of them would suddenly burst into flame. She tried to cover the Eye completely with her fingers and turned away to quietly show the others.

“Your hands are filthy!” Lilah wrinkled her nose. “What is that?”

“It's the Eye,” Celie told her. “I feel so stupid! I actually stepped on it before, when I met Rufus's parents, but I didn't know what it was!”

“You couldn't have known,” Pogue assured her.

“The Eye? You found it?” Lilah grabbed Celie's shoulders and shook her in delight. “You clever girl!”

Rolf tried to shush her, but it was too late. Despite the intensity of his silent battle with Wizard Bratsch, the Arkower spared them a glance, and his face turned the color of whey. At his rival's change of expression, Bratsch turned and then he, too, paled.

“I thought it was finally gone,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

“What?” Celie took a step back, nearly tripping over Rolf, who steadied her with a hand on each shoulder.

“Easy,” Rolf whispered in her ear.

“I knew it,” Pogue said softly from the other side. “They're both guilty.”

“Once it was broken I tried to destroy the piece we kept back,” Bratsch repeated. “But even my magic was not great enough, so I hid it away. And then it was lost … I wanted it to be finally gone.”

“Your hiding place wasn't very clever, was it?” the Arkower jeered.

“You took it!” Bratsch pointed a shaking finger at his rival. “You defiled the tomb of my ancestor!”

“You defiled his very name when you broke the treaty,” the Arkower snapped back.

“What treaty?” Rolf asked, his fingers tightening on Celie's shoulders as both wizards turned to glare at them.

Celie got ready to turn, but to her surprise the Arkower answered them, seething with rage. He took a step toward them, and as a body they all took a step back. From above, one of the griffins screamed a warning.

“The Hathelockes wanted their Castle back,” he sneered. “They were living in the mountain with their griffins. We wanted griffins, but we deserved the Castle, too. So we made a treaty. All those who were accepted by the griffins could live in the Castle, and the Hathelockes would allow the griffins to choose from among Arkish children as well.” His face darkened again. “But they didn't give us the griffins we wanted, and —”

“They would not accept you!” Bratsch looked as though he might strike the Arkower. “For years we tried, but they looked into your hearts and knew that you were rotten!”

“None would accept
you
, either,” the Arkower raged back. “Oath-breaker! You are a shame and an embarrassment to the Castle and your people! Say what you will about the Arkish, but we kept
our
promises!”

“I would not see my Castle and my heritage befouled by you all,” Bratsch ranted. “If I had to hide a hundred eggs from your kind or poison a thousand lakes, I would!”

Celie gasped. “It was you, wasn't it?” She felt sick. “You poisoned the lake and the griffins, not him!”

“We both did,” Bratsch said, sounding like a whining child trying to avoid punishment.

“I caught him at it,” the Arkower said, sounding equally childish. “I caught him poisoning the lake, and he said that it would only make the riders sick, not the griffins. I agreed to keep it up, to help, thinking that if the Hathelockes were gone, there would be a greater chance for the Arkish to become griffin riders.”

“You're both so
evil
,” Rolf said.

“Don't be so high and mighty,” snapped Bratsch. “You wouldn't have that pretty little crown, or the right to wear it, if it weren't for me. I decided to send the Castle away with the remaining riders, and I decided to send it to your precious Sleyne, too.” He pointed a shaking hand at the Arkower. “And that creature is the one who broke the Eye and crippled the Castle.”

“To keep it away from here, and away from you,” the Arkower said. “And I have no regrets!”

“Then why did you steal the shard?” Bratsch demanded. “It rested safe in the Builder's tomb for hundreds of years. Why did you take it?”

The Arkower's face contorted. He looked as though he was going to swallow his tongue, and Celie got ready to slip away, figuring that they wouldn't get any more truth out of the wizards right now.

“He tried to bring the griffins,” called a rough voice over the roar of the fire.

They all twisted around, looking for the source of the
voice. A figure, soot-blackened, coughing, was emerging from the edge of the forest. Lord Griffin dropped his bucket and flew down to stand beside Celie and Rolf, taking up a defensive position. The strange figure had almost reached them when Celie realized that it was Ethan.

“He promised us griffins,” Ethan said, stopping just out of reach of both parties. “All the young men. Said we would get back the Castle, when we had griffins.” He bent over, rested his hands on his knees, and coughed for a moment. “He took the shard,” Ethan went on, his voice raw from breathing smoke. He pointed to the Arkower. “He tried to attract the griffins with it, royal griffins, but the only one we ever saw was that one.” He waved a hand at Lord Griffin. “And it just took the shard and flew away.”

“Good boy,” Rolf said, and reached out to thump Lord Griffin on the flank.

The king of the griffins gave him a patient look and didn't move away.

“When he hid it in the stable, that must have been what sent the Castle into confusion,” Celie said.

“Which is why we must get it and the crown and ring away from here now,” Bratsch said, holding out a hand. “Now. Now. Give it to me now.”

Celie backed away from him, taking Rolf with her.

“You? Mad old monster,” the Arkower said. “Give the things to me, children, and I will take care of them.” He, too, held out a hand.

“First stop this fire,” Pogue said. “Then we'll talk.”

“Tell your servant not to address a wizard,” Bratsch said to Rolf. “There's no stopping a wizard fire once it gets started.”

“Did you start this?” Lilah demanded.

“Of course not, but I won't try to stop it,” Bratsch said. “It's better this way.”

“How is this being better?” Lulath wanted to know.

He had one arm around Lilah, and was also guiding her backward. If they went any farther, they would wind up inside the stable. Now that Rolf had awoken it, the broken back wall had healed, and there was no way to escape the low building. Celie wondered if they should duck back through the tunnel, but the wizards were both quite spry, in spite of being so old.

Rolf reached up and adjusted the crown.

“No one is taking anything from us,” he said in a voice that sounded like their father's. “We are taking all this” — he swept out an arm to indicate the courtyard, the towers, and even the griffins — “back to Sleyne. Right now.” He looked down at Celie. “Ready, Cel?”

Celie nodded, trying to summon her own courage. She gripped the shard of the Eye in both hands and held it up in front her. Lord Griffin caught her eye, and she nodded at him. He let out a cry so loud and commanding that it scared them all, and the baby griffins started to mewl.

The wizards both raised their voices to argue, but were drowned out by the cries of the fleet of griffins that now came winging toward their king. Many of them still carried full buckets, and as Rufus came in for a landing he dropped
his. It cracked open and the water splashed across Celie and Rolf, soaking them both.

“Hey, that burns,” Rolf yelled, his dignity forgotten.

“Rufus,” Celie said as the water sizzled through the rips in her sleeves and she felt the skin on her arms blister. “Where did you get that water?”

When Celie spoke, some of the water that had splashed her face ran into her mouth and she began to gasp and choke. It tasted vile, and she fought the urge to vomit as it hit her stomach. She looked down and saw to her horror that the skin on the backs of her hands was blistering as though burned, even though the water was icy cold.

“The lake,” she choked out. “The plague.”

“No!” Lilah screamed. “One of you
do
something!” She leaped at the wizards, nearly dropping Juliet in her panic, but Lulath grabbed her before she reached them.

The two old men had drawn back, away from Celie and Rolf and the wet stones around them, and once more their ire had turned them on each other.

“You said I would have griffins, griffins to command,” the Arkower raged.

“You said I would control the Castle, I alone!” Bratsch screamed back.

“You're both horrible and I hope you die here!” Lilah's voice rose over the shouting wizards and the distressed cries of her little griffin, clutched to her bodice.

Celie felt dizzy. She put her hand to the bodice of her own gown, feeling the lump of Rufus the lion there. She leaned against Rufus the griffin, having a sudden strong memory of standing on the battlements with Khelsh, all the shouting, the threats, the blood dripping down her arm …

She looked at her finger, where there was a deep cut from the crown, now stinging two times over as the cursed lake water seeped into the wound.

“Pogue,” she gasped.

“Are you dying?” Pogue reached for her and Celie pulled away just in time. She was soaked with poison, and she didn't want anyone else to get the plague.

“Rufus,” she croaked, realizing too late that her darling griffin was thoroughly wetted as well.

He shook his head as though a fly were buzzing around him, and made a strange mewling noise she'd never heard him make before, but he seemed unharmed. Well, she'd have to worry about him later, if she could.

“Pogue,” she said again. “Cut my arm.”

“What? Why?”

“Rolf, keep the crown and ring on. I know what to do,” she began. “Pogue, cut my arm.”

“You're delirious,” Pogue said, panicky. “Should you be delirious so soon?”

“No, I understand,” Rolf said slowly. “Yes … we probably need … Pogue, cut
my
arm, not Cel's.”

He held out an arm that was red and blistered like Celie's, shoving his tattered sleeve up to his elbow. Pogue pulled out his dagger, but hesitated.

“Give me the shard, stupid little girl,” the Arkower said, edging closer. “Help me gather some griffins, and I'll get you to your precious Sleyne. But first we must restore the balance of our world.”

“Our world is dying,” Ethan said. “It's plain to see. Just go,” he said to Rolf, making an encouraging motion. “Hurry.” He leaned closer. “I tried to gather some eggs,” he whispered. “They're inside the tomb, safe from fire, I hope.”

But the Arkower heard him. “What? Foolish boy,” he said, and he backhanded Ethan, knocking him into one of the griffins crowding around them.

“I hate you,” Ethan said in a curiously dispassionate voice. “You've doomed our entire world and all because you were jealous of the Hathelockes' pets!”

The Arkower turned to shout at him, but Ethan snatched up a nearly full bucket and upended it over the old man. The Arkower gagged and staggered backward. The griffins surrounding them moved out of his way and he stumbled and fell to the ground.

Pogue grabbed Rolf's arm, apologized, and made the cut. Rolf shook his arm, scattering blood on the wet stones at
his feet, and then turned and wiped some on the shard of the Eye that Celie still held, her fingers locked in place.

“Your world doesn't deserve the griffins or the Castle,” Celie told them, pleased to find that her voice still worked. She felt very strange, and her vision had gone blurry. She rubbed her face against her shoulder, but her eyes still wouldn't focus properly. “We're taking them home with us.”

“Good luck with that, little girl,” Bratsch sneered.

“Rolf, do something,” Celie said through gritted teeth.

She had had enough of these wizards and their talk. She was frightened that if they didn't return to the Castle soon, she wouldn't be able to see her parents and Bran again. She was frightened, too, for the griffins: Had some of them touched the water? Were they getting the plague? Would they die?

Would she really die?

“I've got this,” Rolf said. He coughed. “I've got this … we'll just …”

“Castle, take us home,” Celie said.

“Yes,” Rolf said, collecting himself. “Castle, please, take us home. And we want the griffins, the towers, and all.”

“Stop it,” Bratsch said. He tried to push his way through the crowd of griffins. “Stop that at once, and give me those things. They belong in the Tomb of the Builder!”

“Help us,” Celie said to Rufus. She turned her head and gazed blindly at Lord Griffin. “Help us,” she said in a louder voice. “Help us.”

The griffins closed in, forming a barrier between Celie
and her friends and the wizards. One of the griffins squawked and moved aside to let Ethan through. With a stunned expression, he edged through the golden and brown and cream bodies to stand beside Pogue.

“Help us,” Rolf said. “Take us home.”

“Take us home,” Lilah said.

“Take us home,” Pogue echoed.

“Let us be returning to the Castle our home!” Lulath cheered.

Celie pulled the shard of the Eye in close to her chest. She was shaking, her skin burning and her eyes blurred. She was more terrified than she had been when Khelsh had threatened to kill her. All that running and screaming and shouting on the battlements had been almost unreal, and besides, she'd been at the Castle, her home.

Then she realized that this courtyard was also part of the Castle.