The Second Siege (34 page)

“You’re right,” said David, blinking slowly. “Magic won’t open it at all.”

“Whatever you mean to do, you must decide soon,” muttered Caillech. “The door above is still open!”

The woman’s words smacked of menace. Max turned and stared at the medallion.

It was smoldering now, issuing steady waves of heat.

Max felt a sudden tickling at his neck—Mr. Sikes fluttered at his ear.

“The spear!” squeaked the imp. “The magic spear will free the Book, Master McDaniels! The Demon is coming! Oh, you must be quick for all our sakes!”

Max swallowed and glanced again at the cavern entrance, half expecting to see Astaroth’s smiling face peering from the darkness. Caillech shut her eyes, making a hasty sign against evil. David merely stared at the smoldering medallion.

“Now!”
pleaded Mr. Sikes, his voice no louder than a tiny squeak. “With all your heart, strike swift and true!”

Max gripped the
gae bolga
tight and turned to eye the Book. With a sudden stride, Max raised the spearhead up and swung its razor edge straight down onto the glass. There was a sound like a thunderclap, a flash of pain, and Max was flung backward to the base of the brazier. Sitting up, Max clutched his arm, which had gone numb. He scrambled to his feet, glaring at the Book of Thoth, which remained suspended within the undamaged case. David and Caillech stared at him in silence, their eyes wide with shock. Turning to retrieve Cúchulain’s spear, Max gasped.

The
gae bolga
had shattered into a hundred sharp fragments that were scattered across the cavern floor. Max stood and blinked at the glittering shards for several moments. Without a word, he walked across the room and tore a tapestry from the wall. Neither Caillech nor David dared to speak while Max crawled about on his knees, retrieving every last shard of metal and splinter of bone until they lay in a little pile on the tapestry. When all had been recovered, Max folded the cloth upon itself.

“Are you okay?” asked David.

“I’m fine,” Max lied, walking to stow the bundled tapestry within David’s pack. His voice was soft and calm. “I just wasn’t strong enough—it was a stupid mistake.”

Caillech said nothing.

“No,” David said slowly. “I don’t think it was a stupid mistake at all. You did the right thing. After all,
you’re
not broken—the spear is.
It
wasn’t strong enough.”

Max looked at the other objects on the dais and came to a sudden, sinking conclusion. There were
two
spears in the cavern; he had chosen the wrong one.

Frowning, Max stepped decisively over to the cauldron and reached inside for the Spear of Lugh.

“No!”
David cried, waving his arm. “Don’t touch it! Use the sword—Caillech said that spear will kill you!”

Max paused a moment, remembering back to his brief audience in the throne room at Rodrubân. There was a calm, quiet truth to the words Lugh had spoken. Max now cast aside his misgivings; he was indeed the High King’s son. As the realization washed over him, he was vaguely aware that David was pleading with him to back away from the half-submerged spear.

“It can’t hurt me, David,” muttered Max, closing his eyes as he pulled the heavy weapon from the water. The cauldron began to hiss and boil. A bloodcurdling wail issued from the spear as it was lifted above the water’s surface. A slow trickle of blood bubbled from the spear’s point to course down its length and stain Max’s fingers. David shrieked and backed away from the terrifying thing as Max turned to face the Book. Once again, he brought a spearhead down against the glass. This time there was no pain.

A satisfying impact shivered up his arm as the Spear of Lugh pierced the case in a flash of white light. Glass rained down upon the cavern floor in thousands of tiny pieces. The Book of Thoth remained suspended in the air, while the spear writhed and screamed in Max’s hands. Staggering back toward the cauldron, Max plunged the weapon back into the water. The cauldron steamed and frothed for several moments and then was still.

“You’ve done it,” Caillech sighed, steadying her frail form against the dais before lowering herself to the ground. She leaned her bent back against the alabaster and breathed deeply. “Well done, my boy. I have waited a long time for this.”

Wiping the blood from his hands, Max smiled at her. For the first time, Max saw the old woman smile, too. She turned to look at David, who plucked the Book from where it hovered in the air and cradled it against his chest.

“Now what?” asked Max.

“Now you must go home,” croaked Caillech. “And take this Book from the Sidh, where it does not belong. It was not made here and cannot stay.”

“How?” asked Max, remembering the
Kestrel
’s wreckage. “How do we get home?”

“With this,” breathed David, running his hand over its golden cover. “The Book will show us.”

Sitting cross-legged next to Caillech, David opened the Book of Thoth and touched his fingers to its thin sheets of papyrus. The only sound was that of the flickering torches as David pored over its many pages and strange, exquisite symbols.

Max paced the cavern, watching his shadow creep and glide along the walls and tapestries. Occasionally, he glanced at the medallion, which had been giving off a bright, pulsing glow. David would not be rushed, however, choosing to ignore Max’s grumbles while he devoted all his attention to the Book. He dribbled the remaining vials of Maya’s wondrous blood onto the Book’s pages to decipher its contents. The blood beaded like droplets of quicksilver, skittering across the pages until the papyrus absorbed them. Turning a delicate page, David spoke, his eyes glistening with tears.

“It’s so beautiful,” he said. “So much simpler than I ever expected.”

“You understand them, then?” asked Max. “The symbols and things?”

“It’s not just the symbols,” breathed David. “It’s their sequence; it’s their shape; it’s everything! And I
do
! I do understand them!”

His face alight with wonder, David lifted his hand and spoke.

“Mllthias braga cibil fah.”

Max blinked. David began to laugh; there upon his hand were a pair of birds. The birds were small and smooth, with long beaks and brilliant blue feathers flecked with yellow. They chirruped and hopped up David’s arm to peer at his face.

“What kind of birds are those?” asked Max.

“I don’t know,” breathed David, smiling at them. “They don’t have a name yet—at least not a common one. They didn’t exist before, Max! These are the first two!”

Max walked over and bent close to look at them. They were beautiful and delicate, with shiny black eyes that peered up at him unafraid. Of course, they’d have no reason to be afraid, Max realized. They had no memories or evolved instincts to shape their view of the world or its inhabitants. All was new to them. They had simply sprung from David’s words, shaped from nothingness. Caillech was speechless, casting a wary eye upon the birds as one hopped into Max’s hands.

Max glanced at David and back to the brilliant blue bird in his hand. He felt like a naturalist stumbling upon the Galapagos, giddy with the possibility of naming so many things as yet unknown. Just as he was about to speak, however, there was an unexpected flash of light.

Bram’s talisman had burst into a phosphorescent flame.

Black smoke guttered from the melting metal and Max’s heart began to pound. Another voice sounded in the room.

“Why not call them Folly and Hubris and have done with it?”

Max turned and saw Astaroth standing upon the road’s last cobblestones. The Demon smiled and extended his hand. The birds abruptly flew from Max and David, swift and darting as hummingbirds, to land upon his open palm. Astaroth’s eyes crinkled into merry slits.

“Lovely work, David,” he said, inspecting the birds closely. “But do not be greedy and keep such fragile beauties to yourself. You should share your creations with the Sidh! Its inhabitants will be most delighted.”

Then Astaroth whispered to the birds and stroked each upon the head; they promptly hopped from his palm and sped from the cavern. Astaroth watched them go, their chirrups fading as they flew away. Turning back to David, Astaroth leaned out, over the last white cobbles, and extended his hands.

“Now be a good boy, David, and bring me the Book before you make any more mischief.”

“No,” said David, clutching the miraculous artifact to his chest.

“You are clever and can speak its secrets,” warned Astaroth, “but you do not truly understand the Book of Thoth and its possibilities. No mortal can. Your life is but a flicker, David, while I burn bright and eternal. The Book of Thoth is not meant for one such as you. Its mastery is not in your nature. Even now, Elias Bram rails at your foolishness.”

“Elias Bram is dead,” said David.

“His body, but not his being,” replied Astaroth with a slow shake of his head. “Beneath the halls of Solas, I spent my last breaths consuming him. Bram’s spark—his soul—lives within me and bears witness to my victory. It must be torturous indeed for Bram to know that you have undone all his painstaking work and recovered for me what I could never have obtained on my own.”

“But Bram’s letter!” cried David. “The talisman! He
told
us to seek the Book and keep it from you! I—I verified them!”

“No, David,” said Astaroth. “
I
told you to seek the Book and keep it from me. The letters and talisman are mine, planted by my servants, and you have danced to my tune, a merry little puppet indeed!”

Astaroth clapped his soft hands together, filling the cavern with an echoing applause. The Demon’s eyes flicked at Max; he raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“You see, Max? There
are
fates worse than death. Now, convince your friend to surrender the Book, or I shall have to punish you.”

Max’s fear turned to anger. He stabbed a finger at Astaroth.

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt us while we were in the Sidh, but you lied! You promised I’d see my mother beneath Brugh na Boinne and you lied again!”

“I’ve done no such thing,” said the Demon, shaking his head with a sly smile. “Don’t press false charges on me, Max McDaniels, hoping to invoke the Old Magic. I have not lied at all. While you are in the Sidh, I will not touch a hair upon your head. And your mother sits behind you, Max, though not so fair as once she was. It is
she
who will bear the brunt of my wrath and beg for a death denied her. And
that,
my boy, is a promise!”

Max whirled to gaze at Caillech, who looked old and broken as she leaned against the dais. Her eyes met Max’s and she smiled, giving a gentle nod. Max rushed to her side.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, only now gleaning a hint of his mother’s features peeking out from within the seamed and ancient face.

“I was forbidden to,” Bryn McDaniels replied, squeezing his hand and blinking away her tears.

“Do you wish more pain upon her, Max?” called the Demon. “I can sear the skin from her flesh and crack her shins to suck the marrow, and
still
she will not die.”

Max stood and looked at David, who held the Book tight within his arms.

“Max,” said David, “I can’t! I
can’t
give the Book to Astaroth!”

“David’s right,” said Max’s mother. “Do not trouble over me. My life is spent.”

“David would have her burn, Max!” hissed the Demon. “He cares nothing for flesh and blood or the bonds of family. Knowledge is his one true love!”

Turning, Max stared at David. His hands began to shake once more.

“Max . . . ,” David whispered, taking a cautious step backward.

Max ignored his friend’s plea and turned his attention to Dagda’s Cauldron and the terrible spear sleeping within it. Gripping the spear, Max met David’s eyes once again and made his decision.

The spear gave a shrill cry as it was wrenched from the water. Eyes widening with rage, Max took one hop at David before casting the weapon at Astaroth with all the strength in his body. The screaming spear crossed the cavern in a blur, impaling the Demon where he stood.

Astaroth howled with pain and clutched at the spear embedded in his belly. The surrounding cavern began to collapse, as though the magic that sustained it had been spent. Bits of rock fell from the cave’s roof while its walls sagged and spilled inward.

Holding the Book open, David yelled more strange words. The burning brazier tipped over and crashed onto the floor, sending burning coals skittering across the cavern as though pulled by invisible strings. A tapestry promptly ignited, its pastoral image blackening quickly under sheets of bright flame.

“Into the tapestry!” shouted David, running forward to tug at Max and his mother. “Quickly, before it burns away!”

There was no time to argue. Max grabbed David’s pack and hoisted his frail mother up off the cavern floor.

Astaroth’s agony was deafening. Max turned and saw the Demon wrench the spear slowly from his belly. For a moment, their eyes met, and Max almost went mad with fear. The burning tapestry loomed ahead, yet through the smoke Max swore he could glimpse Old Tom’s tower. Holding his mother tight, he held his breath and leapt through the flames.