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Authors: Carol Goodman

Hawthorn (16 page)

BOOK: Hawthorn
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Outside its walls I could hear the shouts of invaders come to tear the tower down and find the vessel. Flaming arrows shot across the skylight, followed by shrieking shadow crows. The walls of the tower shook as catapults launched missiles. I heard shouts and screams on the stairs. A knight in armor came running into the room shouting, “We're under siege! We're under siege!”

I jumped to my feet, my hand on my dagger. Beside me Daisy and Mr. Bellows had risen, too. The knight ran toward us—and
right through us. I turned to watch him as he ran to the place where Mr. Farnsworth's table had been and where now instead a woman sat at a loom weaving a tapestry. She had long curling gray hair and the same eyes as the vessel maiden. The knight cried out to her.

“Lady Aethelena, the vessel has been broken! The shadows are let loose. The prince has been attacked by the shadows and taken over. You must leave now. The Darklings are here to take you away.”

He pointed to the skylight where a winged Darkling was silhouetted against the sky. Beside him stood a girl—a girl I recognized! It was Merope, and the Darkling was Aderyn.

Suddenly I understood. The day that the shadow wolves attacked the bell maker's daughters in the woods was the day that the vessel beneath the tower was broken and the shadows were let out. Aderyn was clutching his breast because he had just been wounded by the shadow crow.

Lady Aethelena, guardian of the vessel, stood up, a ball of golden thread in her hand. “No, Sir Isumbras,” she said. “The castle must be guarded. Even with the vessel broken we must make sure no one gets inside to find out the location of the last vessel. I myself will guard it—to my last breath and beyond. You must save the bell maker's daughters.”

“But my lady,” the knight—Sir Isumbras, she had called him—began, his voice cracking. “No one but you knows the way through the maze to the vessel. How will I ever find you?”

She held out her hand, on which she balanced the ball of golden thread. “I will mark my path with this,” she said, “as
Ariadne marked the labyrinth for Theseus. I will cast an enchantment only you”—she turned her face a fraction and I thought that she was looking at me—“and others of good heart and purpose can see, so that someday you can follow me.”

“I will follow you to my last breath and beyond,” the knight said, kneeling at her feet.

I heard Daisy sniff beside me. My own eyes were so full of tears that my vision blurred, the figures of the knight and his lady growing smeary and indistinct. I wiped my eyes—but the figures remained as blurred and faint as faded thread.

“No!” I cried, stepping forward toward the tapestry. I could just make out Aethelena and her brave knight kneeling beside her. The elven gold's magic had all but run out. The last bit of gold was glowing in the ball of thread she held in her hand.

“How will we find the way now?” Daisy, who had come to stand beside me, asked.

“Look,” Nathan said. He pointed toward the ball of gold thread. As we watched, it fell from the lady's hand, tumbled out of the tapestry, and unspooled across the floor. It moved as if propelled by a will of its own, across the room and then out the door, where we could hear it bumping down the stairway.

“Quick!” Mr. Farnsworth cried. “We have to follow it before it fades.”

But someone was already following it. Sir Isumbras, pale and faded but still tied to his oath, was following the golden thread as it unraveled. All we had to do was follow him.

17

NATHAN AND I
went first, with Daisy and Mr. Bellows close behind us, and Collie, Jinks, and Bottom bringing up the rear.

“I'll stay in the tower,” Mr. Farnsworth called, “to guard the tapestry.”

I wasn't sure why the tapestries needed guarding, but there wasn't time to ask. Ahead of us I could just glimpse the glowing knight before he made the next turn into darkness. “Quick,” Nathan whispered in my ear. “If we lose him we'll never find our way.”

“But there only seems to be this one way down.”

“Yes, but once we go below the ground the ways diverge—look—we're passing the door to the bailey now.”

I glanced to my right and caught the flicker of torchlight from outside where the six boys stood guard. I heard laughter and smelled the steak and kidney pies Daisy had brought from the Bells. My stomach growled.

“At least someone's getting his dinner,” I heard Bottom complain.

“I brought plenty,” Daisy answered. “I'm sure they'll save some for us.”

The boys laughed at this as if it were a good joke. I looked
back at them, but my eyes, dazzled by the light, couldn't make out anything. Nathan gripped my arm and pulled me down into a black passage, the only light the faint reflection of Sir Isumbras's glowing armor.

“Maybe we should grab a lantern,” Daisy said.

“It would only make it harder to see the knight,” Nathan called back to her. “Look, he's turning into that passage.”

By the glow of Sir Isumbras's armor I could just make out an arched doorway and beyond it a long curving corridor with a half dozen doorways gaping like black mouths. If we'd missed seeing him turn we'd have never known which door he'd gone through. Nor would the rest of our cohorts, who had fallen farther behind. As Nathan and I turned through the door I quickly uttered a blazing spell and marked the doorway with a glowing sigil.

“Capital idea,” I heard Mr. Bellows say. “Blaze the trail, Ava.”

“Hurray for Ava the trailblazer!” the boys echoed.

My cheeks burned from their praise, but as I hurried through the doorway I felt like I'd been plunged into cold water. I couldn't see Nathan or the knight. I'd lost them both! My heart thudded in my ears—no, that was Nathan's footsteps on the stone floor I heard. I opened my Darkling ears and focused on Nathan's footsteps and plunged forward, feeling like an owl diving for a mouse it hears stirring beneath the snow. I moved so fast I bumped right into Nathan.

“Watch it,” he cried. “You almost made me miss it—he's turning again.”

Ahead of us Sir Isumbras was following the golden thread through a doorway. In the light of the thread I noticed that the
circular passage was wider now and that the cobbled pathway sloped steeply downward. We were descending into the tower's dungeon in wide loops.

“How far down does it go?” I asked Nathan as I slapped another sigil on the doorway and followed him.

“No one knows,” he answered. “Sometimes a boy would take a dare and venture into the maze, but he'd never be heard from again.”

“That's awful! Don't they try to find them?”

“And lose more boys? What would be the point? Besides, there are the rats.”

“The rats?”

“Yeah, the maze is crawling with them. Can't you hear them with those hawk ears of yours?”

I opened my ears and listened. Yes, I did hear something scratching . . . and then something squeak. I heard Collie's voice behind us cry, “There's the blighter, get 'em, Jinks!”

“The boys'll take care of them,” Nathan said. “They'll keep them from following us.”

“Following us? Do you think they're shadow rats?”

“I think the shadows have been waiting for their chance to find the vessel. Didn't you see those crows on the skylight? They'll have sent a message to their vermin brethren below ground—there—there's one now.” Nathan pointed into the dark where I made out two glowing red eyes. “You can always tell them by their red eyes.”

“Shouldn't we—”

“Leave them for the boys. They're excellent ratters.”

I hated to turn my back on those malevolent red eyes, but
Nathan was already hurrying on. I knew he was afraid of losing the knight but I wished he were at least a little afraid of losing me and the others. I could hear Mr. Bellows and Daisy stop to fight the rats with the boys and worried they'd never catch up with us. I could barely keep up with Nathan and manage to blaze the turnings, but I made sure to mark every time we turned because it had occurred to me that if we did ever find the second vessel and learn where the third vessel was, it wouldn't do anyone any good if we couldn't find our way back.

At times I even wondered if Lady Aethelena's golden thread knew where it was going. Sometimes the path sloped upward. Twice we passed a doorway I had already marked. We'd gone around in so many circles I felt dizzy. I had to close my Darkling ears to shut out all the confusing echoes. I could no longer hear Mr. Bellows or Daisy or the boys. They must have stayed behind to kill the rats and keep them from following us. I could only hope they would eventually follow my blazes and meet us at the vessel. If we ever found it.

“What if the thread is a trap,” I said to Nathan, “meant to lure enemies into the maze and strand them here to die?”

“What a bleak idea, Ava,” Nathan said, turning to give me a wicked smile. “You're beginning to sound like me. But luckily in this case you're wrong. Look.”

We'd come down a particularly steep bit, at the bottom of which Sir Isumbras was turning into an arched doorway that was wider than the others. I made out something beyond it—something
glowing
.

As we followed him through the arch my dark-accustomed eyes were dazzled by the light. We were in a domed room ringed
with rough-hewn standing stones. In the center of the circle was a small tree covered with white flowers. How could flowers bloom so far below ground, I wondered, and in the dark? But it wasn't dark here. Looking up I saw that the dome was studded with tiny twinkling lights. They reminded me of the electrified lights on the ceiling of the recently opened Grand Central Terminal. Only these lights were moving.

“Lampsprites!” I cried. “Daisy will love to see them.”

“Yes,” Nathan said, “but I'm not sure that they're so pleased to see us.”

The lampsprites did indeed look angry—and
armed
. Each one carried a spear. They were swarming around Sir Isumbras and us.

“Ow!” I cried as one pricked me with its spear. Another one's wings brushed against my face and I heard the word “Sassenach” hissed all around me.

“It means foreign English invader,” Nathan said. “I'm afraid that Scottish lampsprites are quite a bit fiercer than their American cousins—and these have been tasked with guarding the vessel.”

“We're here to protect the vessel,” I called out. “And to find the third vessel before the Shadow Master can.”

I felt the brush of a dozen wings against my face and then heard the chime of their agitated voices. “How can we tell?” they cried. “You might be spies!”

“I am here to see the Lady Aethelena,” Sir Isumbras said. He was covered by lampsprites, but they didn't seem as angry. They fluttered around him, raising a multicolored dust storm.

“Us too,” Nathan said. “Here to see Lady Aethelena—” But
the lampsprites only poked at us with their tiny sharp spears. I saw one sniff at Nathan's skin and wrinkle its nose. It came away with a streak of blue face paint on its wings. She reminded me of Primrose.

“Aelfweard sent me,” I said, reminded of the guardian I'd met in the Blythe Wood. “He said . . .” I searched my memory for the guardian's exact words. “He said
I am the vessel and the vessel is light
.”

Instantly the lampsprites paused in their flight and then fluttered together in a conflagration. “Those are the words . . . but how do we know . . . it might have tortured the guardian.”

“I most certainly did
not
torture anyone,” I said. I swatted away a lampsprite whose wing dust was seeping down the back of my shirtwaist and making me itch. “Do I look like a torturer? And would a guardian give up his secrets even if I were? And I'm not an
it
, I'm . . .”

“A phoenix!” they all cried as one.

In my anger my wings had unfurled. I could see the glow of them reflected in the lampsprites' faces.

“A phoenix will be sent to save the last vessel!” one lampsprite cried, landing on my shoulder. “You must come at once to see Lady Aethelena.”

A dozen lampsprites tugged me toward the hawthorn tree. Sir Isumbras was already kneeling at the foot of the tree. I looked back to see Nathan fending off a small brushfire of sprites, many of whom had gotten his blue face paint on their wings. Perhaps that's why they were so annoyed.

“Leave him alone,” I said. “He's my friend and . . . um, my squire.”

Nathan looked up, a light flashing in his eyes. The lampsprites stopped harassing him and led him to the tree.

“Thank you, O Great Lady Phoenix,” Nathan said with a mock bow, “for sparing your humble squire.”

“Oh do shut up, Nathan. I didn't know what else to say. At least they're going to let us in—although I don't see how. The tree has grown over the opening to the vessel.”

But even as I spoke I saw that the lampsprites were brushing dirt away from the roots, uncovering a smooth marble slab. Sir Isumbras withdrew his sword and passed it over the slab, reciting some words in a language that I guessed was Old English.

“Do you suppose he's going to plunge the sword into the stone like in King Arthur and his knights—oh!” Nathan's sarcastic remark was cut short by a gasp as the slab slid away of its own volition.
He really does love all those stories
, I thought, as we both crouched down beside Sir Isumbras. Light was streaming up through the opening, lighting up Sir Isumbras's pale, threadbare face with happiness. He bowed down, as if to pay homage to the light, and then toppled headfirst down the hole.

“Well, I guess we may as well follow him,” Nathan said, lowering himself through the hole more cautiously.

As I bent down to follow him I recalled that the last time I'd fallen through a hole in the ground I'd wound up ten years later in a ruined world. But there was no time to consider—I was already falling.

I would have landed flat on my head if Nathan hadn't caught me. “Hell's Bells!” I began, but Nathan hushed me and turned me around forcibly by the shoulders to see—

Lady Aethelena standing in the middle of the room, Sir
Isumbras kneeling before her, his head bowed, her hands resting on his shoulders. Gold light flowed from her hands down over his bent back like a waterfall spilling over a stone. It flowed into his armor, making it shine as if it were newly forged, and then into his hair, turning the silver to gold. His shoulders straightened under her touch and when she lifted his head he was a young man once again and his face shone with the light of love.

“Lady Aethelena, at last! I have guarded the tower all these years waiting for a sign to come to you. When the gold thread unraveled I knew it was time.”

The lady smiled on her knight. “I knew that you would guard the tower and keep us safe, Sir Isumbras. And that you would someday return to me and lead a phoenix to the vessel.”

She lifted her head and settled her wide, kind eyes on me. She was older than the lady in the tapestry, and her curling hair had grown nearly to the floor. I found myself curtseying. Beside me, Nathan bowed. “I'm not sure what being a phoenix has to do with it, my lady, but I have come to find the third vessel and protect it. Nathan and I are from Blythewood, Hawthorn's sister school in . . .” I faltered, not sure what she would know of America since she'd been locked underground centuries before the country was discovered.

“On a great river on the edge of a fairy wood?” she asked, tilting her head and smiling.

“Yes, but . . .”

She pointed to a tapestry hanging on the wall. There was Blythewood standing on the banks of the Hudson River, across from the Catskill Mountains, the Blythe Wood surrounding it.

“But how . . . ?”

“The fairies who made the vessel carved their hiding places on the walls. When this vessel was broken the pictures were ruined.” She moved one of the tapestries aside to reveal a shattered wall. “But I remembered the pictures and wove them into these tapestries. Of course the castle wasn't in the original, but I left instructions for the future lady of Hawthorn to build a castle modeled on Hawthorn and have it moved to where the other vessels were buried.”

“The future lady of Hawthorn?” Nathan asked.

“Alcyone,” I said. “Merope's older sister and founder of our Order. She found your instructions and copied them into
A Darkness of Angels
.”

BOOK: Hawthorn
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