The First Dragon (Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica, The) (27 page)

“Not Tamerlane specifically,” said John. “We planted him on one of the outer islands, where Jason’s sons go to play their war games. He gets to talk to someone, and they completely ignore him. It’s an entirely amicable arrangement.”

“What happened here?” Charles asked as the other Caretakers began to arrive. “The house looks as if it went through some major renovations that were either poorly planned or badly executed.”

“There was a battle,” Dickens explained as he took a seat next to Charles, “between the Caretakers and Dee and his minions, and Tamerlane House paid the greatest price, I’m afraid.”

“Several of the towers and minarets had been toppled, and almost the whole of the north wing was destroyed,” said Hawthorne.

“We did add to our collective real estate, however,” Twain said as he entered the room and kissed Rose on the top of her head. “The House on the Borderlands is now our neighbor.”

“What?” Charles and Fred exclaimed at once.

“Yes,” Bert said as he joined them at the table, eyes filled with tears. “The Cabal, or most of them, anyway, have established a truce with the Caretakers.”

“Where’s John?” Rose asked. “Is he . . . ?”

“Oh, he’s still among the living,” said Jack, “and still the Prime Caretaker. He just has a great deal of business to tend to at Oxford these days. We’ve sent for him, and he should be here at any—”

“Where are they?” John exclaimed as he burst through the door. “Are they really . . . ?”

“Hello, Uncle John,” Rose said, jumping to her feet. “You’ve gotten older!”

“I have,” he said, hugging her closely, “while you have stayed exactly the same, just as I’d hoped.”

. . . the island where the last inn stood . . .

The great bridge of bone
reached across almost the entire width of the ocean, but stopped just short of the Lonely Isle.

Poets and painters had dreamed about the island, which stood at the farthest reaches of existence, and which was the last haven for travelers before they reached the shores of eternity. And in truth, dreaming was the simplest way to reach it, and the only way most ever would.

For the great Dragon Samaranth, it meant using the last relic of the life he had lived before this one, when he was a Maker in a wondrous green city at the edge of an ocean far, far away.

It was a chest made of amethyst, and it was meant to contain worlds. Slowly, carefully, he placed all the lands of the Archipelago of Dreams into it, and then released the great beasts to return to the deserts and mountains where he had gathered them.

To his smallest, last friend, he offered a choice, and was not surprised by the badger’s answer, but was surprised by his own gratitude at receiving it.

Together, they made their way through the storm-tossed sea to the island where the last inn stood, where they would be greeted by the last of the angels from the City of Jade, and where they would wait, for as long as they were able.

At their knock, an old woman opened the door. Her expression was one of joy, then of sorrow at seeing her old friend. “To cross the threshold requires a price,” she said. “Will you pay it willingly?”

“I shall,” the great Dragon rumbled, “for myself, and my friend, Tummeler.”

“Then enter and be welcomed, Samaranth, and Master Tummeler,” she said. They stepped across, and she handed them an hourglass made of bone. “You have until the last sand runs out,” she admonished. “To the last grain, and no more.”

Samaranth nodded. “I understand. Thank you, Sycorax.”

She closed the door behind them and went to set their places for tea. If she had paused a moment more, she would have seen the black ship not far behind. Soon there would be more company. Very soon.

♦  ♦  ♦

The companions and the Caretakers spent the entire night telling and retelling stories, to catch up the companions on twenty years of missed history, as well as to tell the Caretakers about the unknown history of the keep itself—and about the sacrifice that had made restoration possible.

They bowed their heads, and there was a long, respectful moment of silence for the man who had been one of the greatest Caretakers of them all.

“To Scowler Jules,” Fred said, raising his glass.

“To Scowler Jules,” the Caretakers chorused.

“And what of Poe?” Charles asked. “What happened to him?”

John’s expression darkened, and he glanced at both Bert and Twain before he answered. “We haven’t seen him again,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “and I’m not certain that’s a bad thing.”

“I still don’t understand,” Rose said, “why we lost twenty years in passing through the doorway.”

“I think I know,” Shakespeare offered. “My gate was made from the keep, but it was not the keep. Not the same. It still relied on technology and mechanical programming more than simple intuition, and thus could be more precisely programmed. Whereas the doorway in the keep could not.”

“Wasn’t that the original reason the Dragons added doors to the keep?” Edmund asked. “To better focus the chronal energies?”

“I think so,” said John. “At least, that’s my understanding of how it worked for traveling in time.”

“That may also be the difference between the time-travel devices and mechanisms and your own uses of chronal maps and trumps,” Shakespeare said. “Those latter draw very strongly on will and intuition, and rely less on mathematics and science, and so I think they are subject to fewer laws.”

“Limitations,” Twain said, puffing on his cigar. “When you use science, you by definition put things in boxes. You create limits. And thus it follows you would be bound by those limits. But doing what these young’uns do,” he added, gesturing at Rose and Edmund, “that is, literally and in every other sense of the word, art. And art has no limitation.”

“So did it work?” Rose asked. “Has the keep been restored? Is the Archipelago back?”

“The keep, yes,” said Twain. “The Archipelago, no.”

“When it was being taken over by the Echthroi,” John explained, “we know from the message Aven left on Paralon that Samaranth somehow . . . removed all the lands and peoples of the
Archipelago and took them somewhere safe. The problem is, we have no idea where.”

“Have you tried summoning him, from one of the Rings?” asked Madoc. “I’m not so good at it myself, but then again, I never had permission.”

“We have all tried it,” said John. “Every man and woman among the Caretakers, and a few associates and apprentices besides.”

“He was waiting,” a new voice said, “for the Imago to return, so that she would be the one to restore the Archipelago.”

It was the Watchmaker, the ancient being who resided on the island to the northwest of Tamerlane House. But the companions who had just returned from the deep past now knew him by a different name.

“Enoch,” Rose said as she and her companions moved forward to embrace him. The Caretakers were fairly stunned—the Watchmaker had never left his cave, as far as they knew. Ever.

“He had a name?” John said to Bert. “I never knew that.”

“The Summoning was not going to be sufficient,” Enoch said, ignoring the curious stares from the Caretakers, “not until the keep itself was restored. And now that has been done, you’re going to have to go find the lands of the Archipelago and bring them back.”

“Back from where, Enoch?” Rose asked. “Where did Samaranth take them?”

“Beyond the End of the World,” the Maker said, “past the Great Wall, and to the shores of heaven itself.”

“Is that even possible?” Madoc asked. “Mind you, I speak from experience at having tried.”

Enoch nodded. “You are a Dragon, and those such as you are permitted to pass, as are those with you. But,” he added cautiously,
“your adversary has the services of one of the Host, who is bound to serve him, and he is already speeding his way toward his destination. If he reaches Samaranth first, then the Archipelago may still be lost.”

♦  ♦  ♦

“We have not seen him in twenty years,” John explained. “Not since he forced Argus to bond Grimalkin to the hull of the
Black Dragon
.”

“The cat?” Charles exclaimed. “What was he expecting to come out of that?”

“Not just a cat,” John said heavily. “Grimalkin is a Fallen angel, who is bound to serve John Dee. And he can go everywhere a Dragon can go—including past the End of the World. Worse, they have a twenty-year head start.”

“Perhaps not,” said Enoch. “Time operated differently past the wall. What seemed to us to be years can be a far shorter time to someone on the other side.”

“Great,” said Fred. “That’s just what we need—more time-travel issues.”

“You misunderstand,” said Enoch. “The moment you came through the door of the keep, you realigned Chronos time and Kairos time. It is now the same on both sides of the Frontier, and that includes the flow of time past the wall. So while years were passing here, your adversary has been in flight only a short time.”

“Which means we can still catch them!” John said, rising to his feet. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

“Please, tell me that we are not actually this insane,” Jack pleaded. “I know we have had our differences, John, but—”

“What he means to say is we have really missed you, Charles,” John said, giving Jack an exasperated look. “You were
a tempering agent between us, and you were sorely missed. Especially since he died. There’s been no end to the arguments after that.”

“What I’m trying to say is that you aren’t as young as you used to be, and this is a task for others to do.”

“I understand your reservations, Jack, but this is not a negotiation,” John said. “I’m going to go.”

“I’m sorry, John,” Twain said, his voice filled with honest regret, “but you cannot go. You are the Prime Caretaker in fact as well as name, and your choices guide the path of this group. You must remain here.”

John glowered at the others for a moment, then sat down, sighing heavily. “I suppose you’re going to want to go with them,” he said to Jack.

“It’s been a long time,” Jack said. “I haven’t left Tamerlane House much, and, not to put too fine a point on it, I am now younger than you.”

“Hah,” John said. “That’s just because Basil painted you younger.”

“Look at it this way,” Jack said, winking at Rose as he got up from the table, “someday you’ll die too, and then you can go save the world with us.”

“Oh, shut up,” John huffed. “Go do what must be done. And then,” he added, “hurry back.”

♦  ♦  ♦

It didn’t take long for everyone at Tamerlane House to realize that save for the loss of Kipling, the current crew of the
Indigo Dragon
was the perfect team to undertake difficult tasks. “The Young Magicians,” Jack said as he climbed aboard. “You are the future of both worlds, you know.”

“I’ll be content enough just to save one if I can,” said Edmund. “Let’s go.”

After the
Indigo Dragon
left the Nameless Isles, there was one place Rose required that they go first, before she would even contemplate pursuing the trail of Samaranth and the missing Archipelago.

“Of course,” Madoc murmured. “Of course that’s where we should go.” Jack, Charles, Edmund, and the others all nodded in agreement. Rose blushed when she realized that she had simply given voice to an assumption they all had made before they started.

They had to see the tower first. They had to make certain the Keep of Time had indeed been restored.

“It isn’t difficult to find,” said Jack. “It’s just about all that is left of the Archipelago.”

He was right. They came upon it in a matter of hours. It was both comforting and heartbreaking to see the stark gray outline of the tower in the distance—but just seeing it was enough.

“I recall it taking far longer to get to the last time,” said Charles. “Is the airship just faster, or did the Archipelago shrink?”

“Probably both,” said Jack. “I think the Archipelago grew in accordance with how many lands were added, or discovered, or invented, or even imagined. And,” he said, surveying the bleak, open ocean, “with no lands to fill it up, it simply got . . . smaller.”