Circles of Seven (17 page)
“Already done!”
Walter set Apollo down next to the gorse bush. “The portal opened right here, but how can you send something to another dimension that we don’t have with us?”
“Remember the button Karen sent when we were on the plane? Matter can be transformed into energy and energy into matter. Larry will analyze the hypodermic needle and its contents and send the atomic structure to Apollo. Apollo will grab available light energy and transform it into matter based on the atomic coding. Then we’ll send the kit to the other dimension in a small portal.”
“But the button didn’t come across right. It just crumbled.”
Sir Barlow’s low baritone voice groaned from the computer. “The clouds in the scene are no longer moving! Could William have stopped breathing?”
“Larry!” Ashley shouted. “Give the adhesion factor a boost, and let’s do it! Now!”
Apollo’s platform light flashed on, and green sparkles danced inside the glass enclosure like iridescent pixies. The forest grew darker, as though a thick cloud had passed in front of the moon. The green sparkles swirled toward Apollo’s base, like iron filaments flying toward a magnet, until a slender tube resembling a felt-tipped marking pen appeared.
Apollo’s light flashed off. Ashley put her hand over the switch. “Let me do it on manual, Larry. Is it charged?”
“No.”
“Give me a countdown!”
“Five seconds.”
“Is the medicine thing solid?” Walter asked. “Will it crumble?”
“Three seconds.”
“No time to test it. It’s got to go!”
“One second. . . . Now!”
Ashley pressed the switch. A small flash erupted inside Apollo’s glass case, and a portal window opened an inch from the EpiPen. Ashley tilted Apollo, and the pen rolled through the opening. It disappeared just before the tiny rectangle of light closed in a splash of sparks and a thin puff of smoke.
Chapter 12
Bonnie fell through a shaft of light and landed on her back, her wings crumpling painfully under her. Still slipping on the wet ground, she grabbed Excalibur’s hilt and scrambled to her feet. Except for the pouring rain, everything was different. The endless field had disappeared along with the trail of flowers. Now she stood amidst clumps of short, wiry grass next to a gloomy marsh. A motionless body lay just a few feet away, its feet extending into the dark water.
“Billy!” She rushed to his side and laid the sword on the ground. “You came through! But I know I dropped you!”
Billy gave no answer. His pale face didn’t even twitch as rain streamed across his closed eyelids.
“Oh, no!” Bonnie laid her palm on Billy’s cold cheek. She clutched a fistful of his shirt, her eyes darting around and her whole body shaking. “It can’t be! It just can’t be!” She lifted her head and wailed. “Nooooo!” With her fingers tightly intertwined, she cried out, “Help me! Oh, please help me!”
White sheets of rain snatched her voice and threw it against the ground. She pressed her ear against Billy’s wet shirt and listened for signs of life. It was no use. Claps of thunder and beating rain flooded her senses, overwhelming any other sound.
She raised her head, lifting her eyes again toward the boiling black clouds. Water dripped from her soaked hair, joining with the merciless, needle-like raindrops to blind her tear-filled eyes. She yelled into the tempest with a breathless, pitiful wail, “God! . . . Please help me! . . . He’s . . . he’s dying, and I don’t . . . I don’t know what to do!”
A bright light flashed. She jerked her head around, wondering if another shining window had opened, but the desolate beach stretched out as far as she could see. She glanced at Billy’s chest. Something new was there. It looked like a pen or a tube of lip balm, a familiar object but somehow out of place. She laid it in the palm of her hand and read the label out loud. “EpiPen?”
With a jolt of recognition, she gripped the pen in her fist, a fragile smile pushing through her trembling lips. She removed the cap and jabbed the needle into Billy’s thigh, leaving it there a few seconds before pulling it out and massaging the entry point. With tears flowing to join the countless raindrops streaming down her cheeks, she breathed a silent prayer, joy and terror mixing in an emotional whirlpool. It was a miracle! A true miracle! It just had to work!
Walter kicked the gorse bush. “Not knowing what’s going on is driving me crazy!”
Ashley glared at her computer. With one hand on her hip she shouted into it. “Barlow! What do you see now?”
“Ahem. The young lady lunged . . . toward William’s chest, I think. Then she stared at something in her hand before lunging again, toward William’s lower body, I believe, though I am not certain. The storm is still fierce, and I think she’s crying, but she has a smile on her face.”
“Any sign of change in Billy?”
“Aha!” Barlow cried. “The scene is moving! William must be breathing!”
Walter pumped his fist. “All right! You can’t keep a good man down!”
“And now,” Barlow continued, “Miss Silver is embracing William. I see his hands moving, and he seems to be rising.”
Ashley smiled. The computer shook in her hand, her voice quaking to match her tremors. “That’s . . . that’s great, Barlow.” She swallowed hard and whispered. “Keep us informed.” She gazed at the ground for several seconds, a grim half-frown growing on her stiff lips.
Walter ripped a leaf from the bush, careful to avoid its thorns, and tossed it to the ground. Ashley’s glistening eyes revealed hints of a deep mystery within, and he wished he could read her mind for a change. She was obviously determined to help Billy and Bonnie, but her options were running out as fast as Apollo was losing power. He held Apollo up and gazed into its glass enclosure. “It looks smoky in there, and the glass has some kind of sooty stuff on one side.”
Ashley shook herself from her reverie and opened a door on the enclosure’s side, letting out a stream of greenish black smoke. “Larry, give me a status report on Apollo.”
“I sent a status request, and Apollo responded rather tersely. To put it in blunt terms, Apollo’s energy reserves are bankrupt. Even the ambient recharging unit is unable to function. You’ll have to plug it into an AC source if you want to create another portal, if it’s possible to do so at all.”
Ashley caressed Apollo’s cylindrical top as if it were a kitten’s head. “Is Apollo too sick to read the light sources?”
“The data I’m receiving from Apollo at this moment are comparable to the readings I recorded earlier. Therefore, I assume Apollo is still able to accurately read input.”
Ashley closed Apollo’s door, then studied her tiny computer screen, her brow furrowing more deeply. “There’s been a change. The signals are showing a large spatial displacement.”
“You mean, they’ve moved?” Walter asked.
“Exactly. I don’t think they’re anywhere around here.” She pressed a button on her computer. “Barlow! Another status report!”
“Yes, Miss. William is now standing at the edge of a lake or perhaps a marsh. I see an island, about a third of a mile from shore, but it is shrouded by mist. It seems that the storm has passed and left quite a fog behind.”
“A big island?” Ashley asked. “Is there anything on it?”
“I cannot tell the size because of the mist. There is a building on top of a hill, perhaps a church or a monastery. I see a steeple at its apex.”
“And the circles on the floor in your location? What do you see?”
“One moment.”
Ashley tapped her foot on the forest floor. After several seconds, Barlow’s voice came through the speakers again. “In the southeast circle, a light shines in the eyes of a dragon in a mirror, while another light pulses in the eyes of a man wielding an axe.”
Ashley’s lips almost disappeared into her tightening face. “An island with a church on a lake, Walter. What do you make of that?”
Walter closed one eye and scratched his head. “Well, supposedly this whole mess is about Arthur, so I do have a thought.”
“Well, out with it. You think I’m a mind reader?”
“Don’t get so bossy. I just thought you’d be way ahead of me, as usual.”
Ashley’s shoulders drooped. “Look, Walter, I’m sorry about getting on your nerves with the mind reading, and I know I’ve been barking a lot, but I’m wound up tighter than a drum. I can’t help spitting out what I’m thinking sometimes.”
“It’s okay,” Walter said, waving his hand. “Anyway, I was thinking the island sounds like something the professor mentioned. Do you know much about Avalon?”
“Just from storybooks. Any idea how we can find out for sure?”
“Let’s ask Barlow. Maybe he knows something about it.”
Ashley spoke slowly into the computer. “Barlow . . . do you know anything about . . . Avalon?”
“Oh, yes, Miss. I have seen the great tor from afar, from Camelot’s zenith, but I never ventured any closer. Strange happenings. Witches haunt its regions.”
“From what you remember, does the island you see in the window look anything like Avalon?”
“It’s so foggy . . . it’s hard to tell. But . . . it could be.”
Ashley’s mouth dropped slowly open, and the color drained from her face. Walter prodded her elbow with his finger. “What’s up? You look like a seasick ghost.”
“I was just thinking about the King Arthur story.” She grabbed Walter’s cloak sleeve. “Don’t you remember? Avalon is where Arthur went to die!”
Morgan folded her hands and rested her chin on her knuckles. “The scarab’s bite was not meant for young Arthur’s neck, Palin. Whoever interfered with our plans almost ruined everything, but they have also helped us by keeping the boy alive.”
Palin stared at the brilliant oval shining over the abyss, his arms slack at his side and one hand clutching several pieces of paper. “How did the medicine appear? Did you do that?”
“I am powerful,” she replied, shaking her head, “but not that powerful. If not for this coincidence, young Arthur would have died, and all would have been lost.” She balled one hand into a fist and smacked her palm. “The plan was exquisite. A desperate boy brings a dying girl to Avalon and freely gives her into my healing hands, a host brought to my doorstep by special delivery. But now that the beetle missed its mark, we’ll have to deal with the princess in another way.”
The lady swung her long dark skirt and made waltzing steps toward the abyss. With a wave of her hand, the oval screen went blank. She turned her back to it, leaning against a boulder with her head down. “Our plans have been executed perfectly until this mishap.” She looked up at Palin, her eyes flashing red. “The dragon girl’s influence is too strong. Her spiritual eyes are older than the boy’s, and he wisely follows her counsel. He is an exception to his gender’s usual stubbornness.”
“She’s the one you want,” Palin said, gripping the hilt of his sheathed sword. “Just give me the word, and I’ll bring her to you.”
Morgan banged her fist against the stone. “No!” She stood up straight and began pacing around the cave. “The girl will not be a fit vessel for me unless he delivers her body freely. Since her adoptive father gave her into the boy’s care, he is now her surrogate protector. I am certain when he gives her to me, the transfer will be binding.”
“To borrow a modern cliché,” Palin said, “that will be like asking a mother bear for her cub.”
Morgan halted, pressing her hands together as if praying. “Yes . . . yes, I know.” She rubbed her palms against each other, and a cylinder of black clay appeared between them. Within seconds she molded it into the shape of two humans conjoined at the hip. “Deception always dances on a fragile stage, Palin.” She extended her hands, and the clay models hovered over her open palms. Although they stayed in place, the two figures seemed to be creeping along like a pair of dark shadows walking through a scary forest.
Morgan blew softly on the taller figure, and its edges slowly dripped like melting wax. “The boy’s energy must be eroded before he enters the final circle.” As the melting continued, the fusion point between the figures thinned to a sliver. “Each success will drain his resources, and he will be more willing to listen to other voices. If the girl helps him too much, he will not come to me in the weakened state I’m hoping for.” The dark figures popped apart, and Morgan snatched them out of the air, gripping one in each hand. With a squeeze of her fingers, the taller one vanished in a puff of smoke. She caressed the smaller figure, lifting it close to her face and closing her eyes. As she breathed, the black clay evaporated, and its dark vapors rushed into her nostrils. Morgan’s eyes glazed over as she let out a satisfied sigh.
Palin shuddered. He shifted his feet, barely able to keep his eyes on the morbid sight. “If your goal is to wear him down, then why were your knights offering him a crown and a quick exit?”
Morgan fluttered her lashes, and her eyes sharpened again. “They only appear to be helping him,” she said, walking toward him. “Their gift offerings come from the tops of temple walls, and they open a gate of passage that is not the shepherd’s.”
Palin scowled. “You’re just like Merlin. You spout your uppity poetry to make normal people look bad.”
She grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks together with an iron grip. “Oh, Palin, you are such a simpleton.” She released him, patting one cheek like she would a baby’s. “I speak and act in ways beyond your ability to perceive, and young Arthur has the same blindness. So I will simplify it for you. If Bannister had taken the easy path, he would not have been a worthy king, and he would likely have been unable to set the Watchers free. The rightful heir, the true son of Arthur, would never abandon his mission, so I expected him to turn down our offer. You see, I need him to suffer through the circles. His victories will come at great cost to his strength, but in those empty triumphs he will gain unwarranted confidence. That will be his undoing when the real trial begins.”
She pointed at the papers in Palin’s hand. “Did you examine them? Is it her handwriting?”
“Yes. They’re the ones I took from her room back when I was alive.”
She took the pages and strode toward the cave entrance. “Good. It’s time for me to return to my island and separate the prince from his princess.” She stopped, turned back toward Palin, and flashed a wicked smile. “I know you’re dead, my dear, but you can still watch the screen for me, can’t you?”
Palin glared at the ground. “I’ll watch it.”
“Good. If you see anyone you don’t expect, you know what to do.” She waved her arm toward the oval again, and an image of an island appeared. “I think I know who is interfering with my plans. Number three should have placed his scentsers in the fifth circle by now, so I will send him to collect the Stalworth girl. She will soon suffer Shiloh’s fate.”
Ashley held the cell phone to her ear, walking swiftly through the woods with Walter close behind. “C’mon, Professor, answer the phone! You were there just a little while ago!”
“This is Charles Hamilton. Evidently, I am either on another call or I have traveled out of range. I am confident, however, that I would like to receive your message. You see, I only give my number to people who are dear to me so—”
Ashley scolded the phone. “Prof, just get to the beep!”
“—in keeping with proper etiquette, please leave your name and number at the sound of the beep. There is no need to tell me the time of the call, because the messaging system provides me with that information.”
Ashley rolled her eyes and whispered, “Patience . . . patience.”
“Thank you for calling. . . . Beeeep!”
“Professor! It’s Ashley. Listen. Walter and I need to get to Avalon. You said you were going there, but we don’t know where it is, and we don’t have a car.” She bit her lip and glanced up at the full moon. “I guess that’s it. You have my number. Give me a call ASAP. It’s super urgent.”
Walter caught up to Ashley’s side. “Why don’t you just ask Larry where Avalon is?”
Ashley slowed her gait. “It’s a legend, not a hard fact. Would a computer have that kind of data?”
“Maybe Larry can do a search on the Arthur legends and give us the closest possibility. Prof would have told us if he was going somewhere far.”