Authors: T. A. Barron
The two bright swords clashed, throwing sparks in all directions. Between thrusts and parries, Merlin glanced repeatedly at the Horn lying on the floor. Yet every time he attempted to edge closer to it, Garlon fought him off, trying to do the same.
The two burly men fought furiously, working their way around the burning chariot. Fire from the chariot as well as
their swords leaped at their clothing. For a split second Kate lost sight of them behind a blast of orange flames. Then Merlin reappeared, running to fetch the Horn.
But Nimue, seeing her opportunity, moved faster. Trails of mist flowing behind, she lifted off the throne and flew toward the shell-shaped Treasure.
In desperation, Merlin threw his sword like a lance at the Horn. It struck its target full force, sending the Horn sliding toward Jim.
“Throw it to me!” called Merlin.
Jim gathered up the Horn and started to hurl it to Merlin, when he abruptly caught himself. Gazing with wonder at the shimmering object, he held it before his face. All at once he seemed overcome with desire, and lifted the Horn to take a drink.
“Throw it!” Merlin cried.
Isabella tugged on Jim’s arm. “Come on, throw it!”
Jim hesitated, giving Nimue just enough time to pluck the Horn from his grasp. With a savage swipe of her arm, she knocked him backward. Then she announced, “I shall be the one to tasssste itssss power.”
“No!” bellowed Merlin, charging at her.
Just then Garlon careened around the chariot and collided into Nimue. The Horn flew into the air, bounced off the throne, and rolled to a far corner of the room.
“Sssstupid fool,” cursed the enchantress, starting after the Horn.
Merlin changed course, hoping to get there first. But Garlon, seeing him, wheeled around and intercepted him. Panting, he prepared to strike down his brother with the sword of light.
“Garlon,” pleaded Kate. “Don’t!”
“I’ve got you now,” crowed the seaman, swinging his weapon.
Merlin drew a quick breath, then lunged—not at Garlon, but at the chessboard sitting on the arm of the throne. He grabbed one of the wooden chess pieces and tumbled aside, chanting, “Arise now. Arise!”
Nothing happened. Merlin closed his eyes and squeezed the chess piece in his fist. Garlon, sensing his opportunity, advanced boldly. Across the room, Nimue raced toward the Horn.
Kate anxiously asked her father, “What was the chessboard supposed to do?”
“The pieces,” he replied, “were able to—”
Just then, a series of loud reports filled the great hall. The chess pieces suddenly swelled to enormous size. Thirty-two stern figures, each one twice as tall as a man, surrounded the throne, motionless as statues. Beside Merlin, a red knight with the head of a huge horse stood glowering at Garlon.
“Come alive,” finished Jim, awestruck.
Merlin regained his feet and raised his eyes to the towering knight. Then he turned to Garlon and declared, “I shall be red.”
In response, Garlon pointed to a black knight of equal size. “I shall be black.”
As if on cue, the two knights reared back, whinnied and charged headlong into each other. They crashed together with such impact that they flew backward, skidding across the slippery floor. The black knight plowed into Nimue before she could reach the Horn. Enraged, Nimue spat out a curse that sent him flying right into the flaming chariot. As fire devoured his wooden body, shrieks of pain echoed among the arches.
Giant chess pieces all around joined in the fray. They collided into one another and slammed into arches and walls. Hammering and pounding, they attacked one another fiercely.
Garlon mounted another black knight and rode into combat. Brandishing the sword of light, he chopped mercilessly at two red pawns and a rook. He had nearly gained the upper hand when Nimue, who was being pursued by a pair of huge bishops, yanked the sword from him, leaving him to fend for himself.
Meanwhile, as Merlin retrieved his own sword, a black rook charged full speed at him, intent on running him down. A split second before the collision, the red queen cast herself in the rook’s path, bowling him over sideways.
In gratitude, Merlin turned to the red queen, bowed, and said, “Lovely move.”
The queen curtsied, then replied, “Queen takes rook. One of my best.”
Kate turned to her father. “In chess, if you knock out the other side’s king…don’t you win?”
His eyes ignited. “It’s worth a try.”
The two of them plunged into the battle, dodging several chess pieces until they found the enemy king. As the king bent to catch them, they started running circles around him until the giant warrior started to teeter dizzily. Then, in unison, they hurled themselves bodily at him. He fell over with a crash.
Swiftly, Kate and her father rolled the king through a gaping hole that had opened in the wall. As they heard the splash below, all the other black chess pieces instantly froze in place, unable to move.
“We won!”
Kate’s cry was joined by the cheers of the red chess pieces, as well as Jim, Terry, and Isabella.
At that moment, Merlin spied a cloud of dark vapor drawing near to the Horn. “Stop her,” he shouted above the din. “Before she gets it!”
Terry, who was standing near the Horn, scooped it up, even as Nimue bore down on him. He threw it to Merlin.
“I have it!” trumpeted the wizard, holding the Horn above his head.
In a flash, Nimue changed tactics. Instead of flinging herself at Merlin, she braced her wispy form and pointed the sword of light straight at the fiery chariot.
“Checkmate!” she cried, as a violent tremor rattled the great hall. A seething, thundering roar, coming from far below the castle’s foundations, swelled to deafening volume. The Glass House rocked so wildly that everyone, including Nimue, tumbled to the floor. Merlin pitched to one side, dropping the Horn, while the chariot spouted flames all the way to the vaulted ceiling.
The crystal throne fell on its back, splitting in two. Scorched by the blazing chariot, its once-transparent frame turned to blackened coals. As the fire burned hotter, the throne melted into a simmering puddle, then began to evaporate. Soon not a trace of it remained.
As Kate labored to regain her feet, another convulsion hit. More powerful than the first, it did not merely bend the castle walls. It broke them, burst them, splitting apart the flowing beams and buttresses. The force of the tremor hurled Kate like a missile into the cauldron of knowledge, which teetered briefly then fell to the floor with a resounding thud.
“The cauldron,” called Merlin from across the room. “Set it right again!”
Before Kate could do anything, however, a deep crack opened in the aqueous floor. All the bubbling yellow liquid in the cauldron poured out and vanished down the dark fissure. All, that is, but a single drop, which spattered onto her wrist, stinging like a dart.
At once, an idea dawned in her mind. Spotting the copper-red mantle lying next to a fallen column, she crawled hurriedly toward it. From the edge of her eye she saw Merlin and Nimue attack each other with renewed ferocity. Between them, lying on the floor, rested the Horn. Their clashing swords rang out, barely audible above the tumult of the castle collapsing around them.
Grasping the mantle, Kate flung it over her shoulder like a cloak. It smelled of dried autumn leaves and rustled noisily. She started to buckle its golden clasps, when her hands disappeared before her face.
Invisible
, she said to herself in disbelief.
I’m invisible.
Struggling to keep her balance, she did her best to dash across the vibrating hall to the place where Merlin and Nimue battled. As she approached, the wizard lost his footing and lurched to the floor. Nimue, seizing the advantage, bent to retrieve the Horn. At the same time, Kate hurled herself at it. Barely an instant before the hand of the enchantress closed on the spot, Kate grabbed the Horn and spun away.
Nimue froze. “The Horn,” she rasped. “It dissssappeared!”
Merlin, looking equally perplexed, clambered to his feet. Then a strange light flickered in his eyes. He backed away, in the direction of the chariot, taunting Nimue to follow him.
Simultaneously, Kate stood, holding the Horn. She could see her father and Isabella running to escape from a toppling
column. As the column smashed to bits behind them, she cried out.
Hearing her voice, Jim stopped abruptly, followed by Isabella. “Kate,” he called. “Where are you?”
“Here,” she shouted back. Then, remembering her invisibility, she tore off the mantle. “Right here!”
“I see you now,” he answered. “Let’s get out of here before—”
A great crack appeared, snaking across the floor with dreadful speed. It cut directly beneath the feet of Jim and Isabella, widening into a chasm. As Kate watched helplessly, it swallowed them whole.
“No!” she screamed as they dropped out of sight. She sprinted toward the chasm, but before she reached the edge a strong hand grabbed her by the chin and wrenched her down. The Horn fell from her grasp.
Garlon stood above her, frowning. Without a word, he lifted his sword to kill her.
Suddenly a figure jumped Garlon in a flying tackle. The seaman stumbled, twisting violently under the weight of his assailant.
“Leave her alone,” ordered the man clinging to his back.
“Terry!” cried Kate, pushing to her feet.
She had barely spoken his name when Garlon jerked forward, throwing Terry to the floor. Garlon swung the sword, but Terry deftly dodged the blow and grabbed him by the ankle. As Garlon fell, Terry pounced on top of him. The two men grappled, rolling one on top of the other.
Kate stood by helplessly, not knowing what to do. She had no weapon, but even if she had one, how could she use it against Garlon without injuring Terry?
They rolled to the very edge of the chasm, fighting to control
the sword. Bloodstains streaked their arms and legs as well as the slick floor. Terry’s youth and added weight seemed an equal match for Garlon’s brawn and experience, for every time one gained an advantage, the other would reverse it.
At length Garlon kicked Terry off of him. He stumbled to his feet, grasping the sword, then raised it wrathfully. Terry lay on his back, helpless, as the sea captain reared back to strike.
Suddenly Garlon pitched backward as one foot slipped into the chasm. An expression of horror on his face, he swung the sword frantically to keep his balance.
“He’s going to fall!” cried Kate.
Then, even as he tumbled over the edge, he whipped his arm and threw the sword straight into Terry’s chest. With a cry of anguish that mingled with his victim’s, Garlon the Seaworthy plunged into the dark waters below.
Kate ran to Terry’s side and pulled out the sword. He groaned as blood spurted from the wound.
Laying a hand on his forehead, she looked around frantically for Merlin. For help. But Merlin was nowhere to be found. All she could see was the collapsing castle and the inferno in the center of the great hall.
She turned back to Terry. He squinted up at her, trying to form some words with his lips.
“Don’t talk,” she whispered.
He grimaced, then forced himself to speak. “This time…I tried.”
Her eyes clouded. Now it was she who could not speak. She felt his body grow relaxed and still.
Slowly, she stood, her heart aching. She had lost everyone. Dad, who loved her no less than she loved him. Isabella, who
showed her the stars in a single drop of seawater. And now Terry, who mattered more than she would ever have guessed. She shuffled aimlessly toward the flaming chariot, half hoping that another chasm would open up and swallow her, too.
Then she saw an enormous chunk of the ceiling break loose and smash to the floor on the other side of the chariot. Along with the impact, however, she heard familiar voices shriek in pain.
She sprinted to the spot. There she found both Merlin and Nimue, pinned beneath the weighty chunk, which was sliding into a large hole in the floor. The head of the enchantress and the chest of the wizard were held completely immobile. Meanwhile, their arms groped madly for the sword of light, which lay just beyond their reach. In a matter of seconds, the chunk would tumble into the chasm, taking both of them with it.
Crawling as near as she dared, Kate grasped the sword of light. She started to hand it to Merlin, who was struggling so hard he had not yet seen her, when suddenly a ruby light flashed in her eyes.
“Give the ssssword to me,” hissed a voice.
She jerked back her hand holding the sword. Hesitantly, she began to reach not toward Merlin but toward the thin, vaporous arm that beckoned to her.
“Closssser. Come closssser.”
She stretched to give the sword to Nimue, even as the chunk slid deeper into the hole, dragging down the enchantress. Farther Kate reached, and farther.
Then, as Nimue’s fingers nearly closed on the hilt, Kate caught a glimpse of the bottomless eyes. For a fraction of a second, she recoiled.
Nimue! I’m saving Nimue.
“Closssser! You are wassssting time.”
Hesitantly, Kate moved nearer. Her stomach knotted.
Nimue…those eyes. Those horrible eyes! I ca…can’t
.
The ruby light flashed again, blinding her. But unlike before, she fought to see through it, to see with her own eyes.
“Give it to me,” ordered Nimue, sounding desperate.
“Give it to me now.”
“No,” said Kate aloud. In that instant, she swept her arm toward Merlin and placed the sword of light in his hand.
The wizard, seeing her at last, grabbed the sword and immediately started hacking away at the heavy chunk, even as it dropped lower. Finally he freed himself and crawled to safety.
Seething with rage, he pointed the sword of light at Nimue. He readied to run her through, knowing the powerful weapon would destroy her. Then, to Kate’s surprise, he hesitated.
Nimue eyed him savagely. “You ssssentimental fool! Kill me while you have the chancccce.”
“No,” said Merlin. He flung the sword aside. “I will do better.”
The anger melted from his face, replaced with steely calm. He raised his hand and pointed a single outstretched finger at the enchantress.