The Castle in the Attic (15 page)

Her silence seemed to last forever. In the distance, they could hear the clank of an approaching guard. The wizard was coming.

“It's the necklace first,” she muttered. “Get the necklace from him, and then all you have to face is the mirror. But nobody has ever defeated the mirror.”

“The mirror?” he asked in a hurried whisper. “What is the mirror?”

“It looks right through you,” she said, talking more to herself now. “Shows you all the horrors inside yourself. No way to hide from the mirror. Not even Alastor could hide from that. Or you.”

William sprang away from her as the large double doors were pushed open. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Calendar roll over to crouch in her usual position in the corner.

The wizard gave them an odd look when he entered the room. “I see you both are enjoying my little gallery,” he said with a chuckle. “I am usually the only one who likes to be in here. Perhaps we are three of a kind.”

William shuddered at the thought and turned abruptly away. “I must go,” he said.

“No,” the wizard said sharply. “You will stay here. Remember, you are my fool. And not a very good one at that,” he grumbled. “Guard, bring me a chair. I want my fool to give a performance for all these
assembled.” He swept his hand around the room to indicate the motionless audience. “Go,” he shouted at the guard, who was not moving fast enough.

William didn't bother to object. In the short time he'd lived in the grim bowels of the castle, he'd grown used to the whims of the wizard. Besides, he rather liked the idea of giving a performance in front of the Silver Knight. It seemed a fitting memorial to the bravery of his old friend, useless though it had been.

The chair was brought. William took some time at the opposite end of the room, warming up and stretching out his muscles. He had a feeling this was going to be a real performance, the last important meet of the season.

“Get on with it, fool,” the wizard called from his throne.

William walked to the center of the room. He bowed first to the wizard and then to the leaden audience along the walls. He felt their eyes and a curious tension began to build in him.

“Two round-offs, two back handsprings, and a cartwheel,” the wizard barked.

William nodded even though he had no intention of following the wizard's orders. He had gauged the distance. He knew the routine he would use to cross the room. And when he ended with the Arabian front somersault, he knew where his feet would land. He
started with a series of cartwheels that took him around the room in a whirling circle. From his first position in the corner, he hurtled toward the wizard with two round-offs. Coming out of the second one, he punched up high in the air for the line of back handsprings that brought him closer and closer to the silver robes. As the room turned upside down over and over, William saw the wizard reaching for his necklace. The old man jumped to his feet.

“Obey me, fool,” he screamed. “The Arabian.”

William twisted into the Arabian and ducked his head down to end in Mrs. Phillips's special, the front somersault. As he came up, his feet caught the wizard full in the chest and knocked him to the ground.

William fell beside the wizard, shaken for a moment. It was the old crone's voice that brought him to his senses.

“The necklace!”
she screamed. He reached across the heaving silver chest and snatched it from the wizard's neck.

A cry of pain and anger filled the room. William leaped to his feet and backed away from the curled silver figure on the floor. The wizard rose slowly. “Close the doors,” he ordered the guard in a steely voice, and the man jumped to obey. With the click of the lock, there was complete silence in the room.

“I am the boy in the legend, Alastor,” William
gasped, his chest still heaving. “I have come to take back the Silver Knight's kingdom.”

Then a low, horrible cackle bubbled up from deep inside the wizard's throat.

“And now, fool, you think you have me. But you don't know about the mirror, do you?” Both hands were thrust inside the pockets of his billowing robe, searching for something, as he advanced on William. The wizard had grown even larger and more menacing with the loss of his necklace, and William continued to back away until he felt the solid form of the Silver Knight behind him.

“Nobody escapes the mirror. When you look inside it, you will see all the cowardice and hatred and greed inside yourself. Won't he, Calendar?” he called out to the old woman without taking his eyes off William. Her only reply was a moan of terror. “Calendar has seen the mirror do its work. Beggars and priests and kings have fallen in front of the mirror. What will it show you, fool? What are you but just a small, stupid, terrified boy?” the wizard shrieked as he pulled something out of his right-hand pocket and thrust it toward William.

William shut his eyes. He couldn't bear to have his journey end this way, after everything he'd come through.

“Open your eyes, fool. You will have to see it.
There is no resisting it,” the wizard crowed, certain of his victory.

William thought once more of Mrs. Phillips, the one person who believed in him.
You have inside you the heart and soul of a knight
, she had said.

He opened his eyes and looked into the mirror. All he saw was the figure of himself, William, walking slowly but surely toward him. As the figure got closer, he could see the picture of Mrs. Phillips imprisoned inside his heart.

“What does he see, Calendar?” the wizard cried.

“He sees himself, Alastor. And the lady he has taken prisoner. Nothing else.”

“But I'm here so that lady can go free,” William said, his voice powerful in the silent room. He took another step toward the mirror. It no longer scared him. It showed him only what he already knew. With every forward stride that William made, the wizard retreated until he was trapped in a corner of the room, his eyes wide, his mouth open and waiting for a scream that never came. William reached out and snatched the mirror, turning it on Alastor.

The look of horror on the wizard's face was unbearable, and William was almost tempted to drop the mirror and break it.

Alastor sank to his knees, covering his eyes with his hands. “It's the locust,” he moaned.

“The destroyer, the ravager,” Calendar shrieked, her arms lifted up to the ceiling. Hatred was etched in every line on her face. Before William could stop her, Calendar had snatched the necklace that dangled from his left hand. She pointed the lead disk at the wizard and mumbled the word “Saturn.” Alastor reached up and tried to grab the length of ribbon from her, but she swung it back and forth just above his grasp. His legs had already turned to lead from the feet to the knees, and he began to drag himself about the floor on his elbows, trying to catch her. He looked like a wounded animal.

“Calendar, no,” William shouted. “Stop it. We can take care of him some other way. Don't do that to him.”

But she was lost to anything but her own revenge. Dancing around the twisted, gray form of the wizard, she flipped the lead disk and muttered another word William couldn't hear. Alastor was gone.

Before anybody could stop him, William raised his arms and smashed the mirror to the floor. It shattered instantly into a hundred scattered slivers.

William stepped across the place where the wizard had twisted in his last agonies and took the necklace from Calendar's hands. She gave it up without a word and sank to the floor, sobbing, crouched in her familiar position.

He glanced up at the soldiers still standing at attention by the door. They were staring at him speechlessly.

“I have no wish to fight you,” he said.

Brian, his guard, was the first to react. “My lord,” he said, with a formal bow. “We thank you for our freedom from the wizard's tyranny. We are at your command.”

“Not mine, Brian, but this man's,” William said, going over to stand in front of Sir Simon. “But how
do we break the lead spell? How can we bring him back to life?”

Brian went to Calendar and muttered something in her ear, but she just shook her head and pushed him away.

“She will not tell me how to undo the spell, my lord,” he said.

“I don't think she knows how,” William said. “I guess the wizard never undid any of his spells. But I have an idea. I have brought Sir Simon back to life once. Maybe I can do it again.”

While the soldiers watched, William put his arms around his old friend and pressed his cheek against the cold metal wrinkles of his tunic. “Come back, Sir Simon,” he whispered. “Your kingdom has been retaken.” Suddenly, William felt those arms crushing him in a familiar hug, and he looked up to see the knight's eyes filled with tears.

“Sir Simon,” he cried. “You are alive.”

The knight didn't speak but held his squire at arm's length as if to study his face more closely. Then he looked slowly around the room.

“The wizard?” he asked.

“He is gone. We have defeated him.”

“Your weapons were stronger than mine, William.”

William looked away, embarrassed. “I see you found
yourself a page,” he said, taking the lead hands of Dick's son into his own. Gradually, they warmed and turned to flesh. The boy's eyes lost their blank gaze and focused on William.

“You did as I asked and brought the Silver Knight to me,” William said gently. The boy nodded. “What's your name?”

“Tolliver, if you please, sir.”

William smiled. “You weren't calling me sir before, Tolliver.”

“No,” the boy replied with a grin.

“What about the others?” Sir Simon asked. “How do we bring them back?”

“I think I can do it,” William said. “It seems to work the same way it did in the castle.” He went from one lead figure to another, touching a cheek here, a hand there, until the room was filled with live people, asking questions and stretching their stiff limbs. As the story of the wizard's defeat was passed from one to another, they pressed forward to shake William's hand.

When that was done, he took Tolliver and Sir Simon over to the corner where Calendar still crouched. He touched her on the shoulder.

“Calendar,” he said softly, “I've brought some people to see you. Here is Sir Simon and Tolliver, your grandson.”

She would not look up but pulled William down beside her. “I cannot bear to have them see me like this, a wizened old lady with a black heart. You never knew me to be any different, but Simon was my beloved one before the days of the wizard.”

Sir Simon took her hands and lifted her up so that he could see her face. Then he hugged her. “My beloved old Calendar.”

That hug of Sir Simon's and the love in his voice melted Calendar as quickly as William's hands had softened the leaden bodies. For the first time since William had met her, he saw her smile.

“You do not hate me, my lord,” she cried. “I should have struggled harder with Alastor to rescue you.”

“Even if you had, there was nothing you could do against his power. These years with the wizard must have been very lonely ones.” She closed her eyes as if to shut out the horrible memories. “But the wizard's spells are broken, thanks to our good friend, William,” Sir Simon went on. “You will stay with me and live out your life in comfort, surrounded by your friends.”

“And your family,” William cried, pushing Tolliver forward. The old woman and the young boy stared at each other, then joined hands, then hugged. William thought he'd never seen two people look so happy, and he felt the tears coming into his own eyes. For once, he let them slide down his cheeks, and when Calendar
caught sight of them, she reached up to brush them away.

“It's all right, Calendar. I'm just so happy for you.”

“I know, my gentle lord. I know you are.”

At a signal from Sir Simon, Tolliver led his grandmother off to a corner of the room, where they sat down immediately and began to talk.

“Now you must put the necklace on,” Sir Simon said. “It holds the token you will need for the Lady Elinore.”

William looked more closely at the prize he'd come such a long way to get. Two medallions dangled from the long red ribbon. The first was the reverse side of the Janus medal that Mrs. Phillips held back in the castle. It looked identical except for a kinder expression on the god's face and the two keys engraved on either side of his head.

“The keys to her freedom,” he said, showing the token to Sir Simon.

“And this is the lead disk,” the knight said.

“What are those markings on the top?” William asked.

Sir Simon picked up the medal rather gingerly and peered at it. “That's the sign of Saturn,” he said. “According to the old alchemists, lead was associated with Saturn, the god of death and decay. An evil sign.”

William slipped the lead medal off the ribbon. “I only need the Janus token,” he said. “You take this and keep it somewhere safe. I don't want it to fall into the wrong hands.”