“No. The bad people have broken into nearly everything. The only doors with working locks are the ones on the undiscovered secret passages. And you should be keeping to those!”
Darce pointed to the final tower. “This is it. If the blackmage used the castle for his work, he’d have operated here, in the Dwelliperium.”
“What makes you so sure?” asked Lily.
“That’s where I would have been,” said Bree.
Darce folded up the map and handed it back to Byrne. “Formation, everyone.” The party fell into a specific order in two files. Ren grabbed Lily’s arm and tugged her into line in front of her.
“They’re going to the Dwelliperium, Rymee,”
thought Lily.
“And I don’t see any stopping them. They’ve obviously been preparing for this moment for a very long time. I didn’t know anything about it until just now. Rymee?”
“Lily,” said Darce, gently taking Lily by the arm. “Open the door again, then get back in line. And make sure you don’t fall behind.”
Lily stepped to the wall, where the door had already faded from existence.
“Rymee?”
thought Lily, but no reply came.
Full of apprehension, Lily formed her peerin and peered into it. To her surprise, the glowing lines of the locking enchantment burned brightly. Using her thoughts she plucked the keyhole strand and uttered the password (a word Lily had already made sure to write down in one of her notebooks). Darce swung open the door, and in they went.
The interior stonework of the castle was lavish, well beyond Ebb’s most detailed paintings. At the north end of the hall was a grand staircase. At the top of the wide steps, smaller flights doubled back on either side and joined again at the center. The staircase continued this way for many flights. The only light came from the dim lamps of a few well-placed dragoyles.
“Lily, I’ve looked around,”
said Rymee.
“It looks like you can get to the Dwelliperium safely, but you must hurry! And then you must leave!”
“Rymee, meet us there. We can get you out.”
“No. I told you: I don’t want to leave. And where would you take me, anyway? Your boat is gone. No, Lily, I’m safer here by myself.”
After ascending many flights of stairs, they veered into a hall and made for a narrow arch on the far wall. They raced to the top of a spiral staircase, and Lily drove her legs like pistons trying to keep up. Her legs burned from the pace Darce set, which made Lily more than a little mad, as she had thought her legs to be in excellent shape—and she was wearing less than half Darce’s armor! She made a mental note to start running again when she got back home, maybe with a backpack full of rocks.
“How many bad people are in the castle, Rymee?”
Lily thought. Then it dawned on her that she hadn’t bothered to ask Rymee about the dread-knight or more blackmages. Were there things worse than dread-knights and blackmages?
“I don’t know for sure,”
answered Rymee.
“But more than your little band can handle.”
Lily smiled to think how Darce would react to having her party called a “little band.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Rymee. This group I’m with. . . . I’ve never been around more capable people in my life.”
Hastily, Lily added,
“With the exception of their parents, of course.”
Suddenly, they were off the stairs and running across a tall, narrow hall. The shift to level ground felt a little funny after all those stairs, but Lily didn’t have to worry about getting used to it. Before long, they were clambering up a staircase that doubled back on itself like the earlier grand staircase had done. This one, however, was much narrower, if no less grand in construction. Sweat poured down Lily’s face.
Three times on the way up, they paused at doors while Annora checked them with her peerin, looking for traps but detecting only the shattered remains of once-powerful wards. On the final stretch, Darce increased the pace. By the time they reached the top, they were all out of breath—Lily most of all.
High in the royal tower, they finally reached their destination. Stepping out of the circular stairwell, they entered a small antechamber which had once served as a waiting area for anyone having dealings in the Dwelliperium. The doors between the two rooms had been blasted off their hinges. Darce and Annora, especially, seemed impressed by the level of destruction. Empty plinths sat on either side of the door, with dark marks in the center of their bases the only signs that sculptures had once stood on them.
The Dwelliperium was a large circular room, taking up nearly all the floor within the tower. Inside were bookshelves, cluttered tables, and all manner of strange devices. Annora and Bree did not hide the awe on their faces. Bree ran her hand down a row of shelved books. “Some of the greatest lunamancers in the world have worked in this room,” she said, clearly unable to believe she was now standing here herself.
The largest feature loomed at them from the far side of the room and must have been a recent addition: an enormous glass tank, clasped in iron bands and suspended above a wide, smoldering brazier. The liquid inside the tank was an inky green. Stacked against a nearby wall were the dwindling remains of a makeshift woodpile.
On a table near the glass tank lay a huge open folio, the leaves of which must have been three feet square. Annora turned reverently to the beginning. The pages were dominated by huge diagrams of what looked like the interior of someone’s peerin. All the strands of power had been neatly colored, and long passages of text filled the bottom quarter of each page.
“There’s something very wrong here,” muttered Annora. “Newlin, come here and look at this. What do you see?”
Newlin examined the page and turned to the next. “Give me a few minutes,” he murmured.
Bree stepped up to a stone pedestal rising just four feet from the floor. It was as wide as it was tall, its surface etched with diagrams. When Bree’s eyes fell on a recessed area in the shape of a drawn peerin, she drew in a sharp breath and raised a hand to her mouth.
“What have you found, Bree?” said Annora, unable to tear her eyes away from the pages she and Newlin were examining.
“It’s here! It’s really here,” said Bree. She drew her peerin and pressed it into the recessed stone. Immediately a ghostly image of what Bree could see in her peerin materialized above the stone pillar. “Can you see it?” asked Bree excitedly. “Can you all see it?”
“By the moons!” breathed Annora. She ran to her sister’s side. “Ren!” shouted Annora. “Can you see it as well?” Then, turning to the group at large. “Can you all see it?” Heads bobbed up and down. “Amazing!”
Suddenly, water slopped out of the glass tank, as if something large within it had shifted its weight. A green tentacle flopped down from the top and took a lazy swipe at Falin, who had walked over to inspect several wooden barrels near the tank. Darce’s blade flashed, and in two bounds she was by Falin’s side. But Falin easily ducked the tentacle and waved off Darce.
“Stand down,” he said in a loud voice.
Falin picked up a long two-pronged fork from atop one of the barrels and examined its tines. Cautiously, he lifted the lid on the nearest barrel and peered into it. He jabbed the fork in and withdrew a large, salted fish. Smiling at Darce, he sent the thing flying up into the air with a flick of his wrist. The tentacle neatly and expertly snatched the fish mid-flight, and Falin sent three more sailing into the air after it. Two more tentacles appeared and snatched those too. “Hungry little bugger,” said Falin, still smiling. “Stop worrying, Darce. It wasn’t reaching for me. He could have had a good grip on me if he’d really wanted. He just wanted some fishies.”
“He?” said Darce, sheathing her sword. “If I were you, I wouldn’t get overly friendly with that thing, Falin.”
A single tentacle dripped back over the edge of the tank and reached lamely toward one of the barrels, which, for obvious reasons, had been placed just outside its reach. A moment later it began waving entreatingly to Falin in an almost playful manner.
“See what I told you?” said Darce. “Now you have an extra mouth to feed.”
Falin chuckled and tossed up another fish.
Lily moved to the largest window in the room. It was completely open to the air. She looked down on Castle Fendragon—its ramparts, keeps, and towers—and beyond its immediate walls to the upper city. Ren came and stood beside her.
“You know, I actually believed you when you said you’d never formed a peerin,” said Ren.
Lily’s eyes flashed to the look on Ren’s face.
“Pretty stupid, huh?” Ren asked.
Lily didn’t want to leave that remark hanging. It was ironic: Lily knew that if she lied and said she
had
formed a peerin before, her pseudo-confession would restore some of Ren’s trust. And she wanted Ren’s trust. Not having known Ren for very long made the lie doubly tempting. Lily also realized there would be inevitable fallout if the lie came out later, after they knew each other better. Of course, admitting she’d formed peerins before would be a lie twice over, because she’d be lying when she said she’d been lying—and she hadn’t been! But to tell the truth meant explaining the girl in the ring, and Lily wasn’t ready to do that. The worst part was that all Ren’s life experience told her that lunamancy took years of study, and Lily knew Ren had made a leap of faith to believe her earlier.
Ren looked away.
After careful deliberation, Lily decided to try something different. She would go for the thing that, should she ever be vindicated, would bring the greatest trust.
“That
was
my first peerin, Ren,” she said.
Ren sighed and shook her head. Changing the subject, she asked, “I wonder why some of the towers are so thick and flare out at the top?”
Lily had a ready answer for that. “Those are called perches.”
Ren frowned.
“For dragons to live in,” explained Lily.
“Dragons?” repeated Ren, aghast. “But why would anyone want to keep dragons so close? Those upper platforms look open. What would keep them from leaping down onto the populace?”
“They didn’t leap—they flew!” said Lily.
Ren shrank back. “Flying dragons? That would be horrible! They’re bad enough as they are now!”
Lily looked out the window again. “I don’t think the dragons were always like they are now. Look here—” She pointed to a great curved pole outside the window. It was ten times as large as the perching pole that the Wornot had used inside the Great Hall of the Rinn. “This is where Fendragon would perch, so he could talk to the lunamancers in this very room.”
Ren took another step back from the window, her eyes growing dark. “Fendragon isn’t real, Lily. He’s a story made up by your uncle, for children.”
“Then how do you explain what you see outside this window?” Ren didn’t answer. Lily continued to survey the castle, taking in the view. “There are no towers higher than ours,” she reported, trying to be helpful. “So I don’t think we’ll be seen through this window. As long as we’re not standing in it, and don’t generate any more light than we already are.”
Annora returned to the open folio. “Well?” she said to Newlin.
“I wouldn’t feed that thing, Falin,” he cautioned. “It’s a kraken. They’ve brewed one from scratch.”
Falin dropped the lid back on the barrel, tossing the fork on top of it with a clatter. “Kraken?” he said. “Ick.”
“Ick is right,” confirmed Newlin. “This is dark peerin work. That’s why it’s so hard to make sense of.”
Lily walked over to the folio, incredulous that she hadn’t brought her camera. Staring at the big pages, she fought down the urge to whip out her notebook and sketch the entire spell, but given the thickness of the book, it would have taken days, and she would have needed to color-code it.
Bring colored pencils next time,
she thought.
“Rymee,”
thought Lily into the ring.
“We’re here, in the Dwelliperium. The bad people have been hard at work.”
“At what?”
came the little voice.
“What have they been up to?”
“Haven’t you ever been up here?”
“No. Not since they moved in. It’s dangerous in the towers. Only a few of them have secret passages. Although there is one in your room, behind the far bookcases on the wall to the right of the doorway. I did see some of the things they took in there. It was a big production. At one point, they hauled an enormous vessel up the side of the tower. They used the perch to manage the ropes. It took them several days to get it in.”
While scanning the wrecked room for the bookcases Rymee had mentioned, Lily noticed Ren tiptoeing toward the blasted doors as though maybe she’d heard something outside. Lily glanced to other side of the room. Darce was talking to Falin, but on seeing Lily’s face, she stopped. A heartbeat later, Darce was on the move. But Lily was closer. If there was danger, she was now Ren’s only chance.
Even as Lily charged to the doorway, a steel blade flashed through, passing neatly through Ren’s chest and popping out her back. Ren’s hands flew up, and she drew in a sharp breath. Lily watched in slow motion as the blade tip retreated from Ren’s back. She was one step away. A man stood in the doorway, preparing to thrust the sword again. Lily launched herself, slamming into Ren. Lily watched in horror as the blade streaked toward her. First at her heart, then towards her shoulder, then finally to the open air just a stitch shy of her body.
They hit the floor and time seemed to speed up again. Lily heard the sound of many blades being drawn. She scrambled to stand, but Darce gave her a violent shove, pushing her to the floor again. Lily rolled sideways, giving her a better look at what was going on.
Darce was trading blows with someone in the antechamber. Grimm and Falin hurtled through the doorway to join her. Annora and Bree passed next, forming their peerins as they went. Ren, with one hand clamped to her chest, tried to push herself upright. She took two short breaths, joining her hands together in front of her as a dark bloom formed across the front of her robes. She appeared to be in shock, and her bloodied hand kept slipping against the other one as she repeatedly attempted to form her own peerin. The spells from Annora and Bree’s peerins cracked and flashed.
From somewhere down deep, from a place she’d never been before, Lily felt it rising in her: fear like none she’d ever imagined. In panic, she crab walked away in horror from Ren, her breath coming out in short blasts. She bumped into something, screamed, and spun into a standing position. She’d bumped into a chair. Lily spun around and took a step toward Ren. She reached out with both arms, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch Ren’s crumpled form. This was no bedtime tale. There wasn’t going to be a happy ending to this one.
A scream from Falin caught Lily’s attention. She groped to the edge of the door and took in the scene. Darce, Falin, and Grimm had formed a line before the onslaught of at least a dozen well-armored attackers. Falin had fallen, his leg bleeding. Lily watched as Darce half-stepped over him, stretching herself in order to parry a blow that would have surely run through a joint in his armor. When she popped back up, she had two swords, one in each hand. Had Darce picked it up from one of the fallen attackers, or had it been hidden on her person? Lily had no idea.
Falin pushed himself back from the fray, moving erratically, and in great pain. Darce dodged his legs as best she could. Her footwork was miraculous. She took on four of them, parrying with a speed Lily had previously associated only with wild animals and lightning strikes. Bree and Annora stood behind the three, sending one spell after another through small openings that formed when Darce or Grimm contorted to avoid a thrust or strike a blow.
Byrne had joined them. Lily didn’t remember seeing him run past her. He was dancing about with his bow drawn, trying to find openings to safely loose his arrows. It looked like an impossible task. Newlin—where was Newlin? And what had happened to Nye?