Wednesdays in the Tower (22 page)
“Celie threw the Eye down the chimney,” Rolf blurted out.
The Castle rumbled, and Lulath reached out his free hand and caught Lilah before she could fall.
“You did what?” Arkwright’s face twisted with rage. “No, no! Don’t you see? We can’t go back! We can never go back!”
They all froze, his words hanging in the air.
“Then where were you taking Bran?” Queen Celina demanded.
Everyone circled around Arkwright. Sergeant Avery had one hand on the hilt of his sword, and both Pogue’s hands were fists. Arkwright looked like he was going to protest his innocence, but then he sagged.
“To another world; an empty one,” he admitted. He hurried to the fireplace. “The Eye must be taken far from here, now. The Castle must go back to sleep! The old world will bring only death!”
“You’re insane,” Bran said. “Can’t you hear that? We need the Eye to try to find a way to soothe the Castle. It’s fighting with every stone to undo what you’ve done. I think it’s clear that it won’t let us take anything away from it ever again.”
The rumbling was getting louder. The flagstones were vibrating beneath their feet, making Celie’s toes feel numb. She was having trouble thinking clearly as Arkwright’s story and his repeated attempts to trick them swirled around in her head. To add to it all, her shoulder and cheek were throbbing with pain where she had bruised them while retrieving the Eye.
There was shouting from the main hall, and Rufus raised his head and screamed a challenge. He buffeted Celie with his wings, trying to shoo her to safety in a corner of the room, his tail lashing.
“Let’s take him out into the main hall,” Rolf called to Celie. He had to raise his voice to be heard. “Less crowded there.”
“But if Bran needs help—” Celie began.
Rufus came up close behind her and dipped and rolled his shoulder. Celie found herself knocked over his right wing and lying upside down on his back. Rolf put one hand
on Celie’s shoulder to steady her and the other on Rufus’s back, and started to lead him out the door.
“Are you all right?” Pogue ran into the Heart as they were headed out. There was sweat darkening his hair and the neck of his tunic. “I went out to look for you when the archway opened, Celie. There’s black smoke coming out of all the chimneys, and the outer wall has started crumbling again.”
“Everyone get out,” King Glower ordered. “Rolf! Pogue! Take Celie!” He grabbed Bran’s arm. “Tell me what I can do!”
Lilah and Lulath started for the door as well, and Celie saw Bran pick up a long silver rod, a grim look on his face. Then Pogue and Rolf hustled Rufus out into the main hall with Celie hanging the wrong way across his back. They let her sit up once they were out of shouting range of the Heart of the Castle. She tried not to rub her shoulder: they were already treating her like a baby or an invalid; they didn’t need to know she was really hurt. Besides which, it wasn’t all that bad.
Rolf led them into the corridor where Celie’s bedroom was, but then there was a twist and it all changed. Rolf held up a hand in warning.
“Where are we?” Pogue asked. He tugged at the harness to make Rufus stop. The rumbling was so loud he had to shout to be heard even at close range. “I’ve never seen this corridor before.”
“Where’s your atlas, Cel?” Rolf asked, his voice strained.
“It’s useless now,” Celie told him. “This corridor isn’t on there. I’ve never seen it before, either.” She looked around, nervously stroking Rufus’s neck.
There was no sign of the main hall behind them. The corridor seemed to go on and on in both directions, although it was hard to tell. The lamps weren’t lit and there were no windows; there could be a staircase or a sudden drop into the dungeon waiting just a few paces ahead, and they wouldn’t know until they fell. Lilah and Lulath had left the Heart just a few steps behind them, but there was no sign of them now.
“I have no idea where we are,” Celie admitted.
“That’s not possible,” Rolf said, sounding desperate.
They went forward for a few paces, but there was still nothing. No doors, no windows, no lamps, no stairs. Pogue called out, but there was no answer. They turned back, and found that the corridor ended right behind them.
But when they turned around again, there was a single lamp, its flame quivering as the Castle shook, and a spiral staircase that led upward. It would be barely big enough for Rufus. They looked at each other and shrugged. Celie got off Rufus’s back, and they started to climb.
They didn’t climb long. The spiral stair brought them to a round tower that Celie had never seen before. Judging from Rolf’s and Pogue’s expressions, they’d never seen it before, either. It looked most like the hatching tower, with a sloping floor and four large open windows, but there was
no nest or any sign of an egg. The view out the windows showed Celie that it stood between the hatching tower and the north tower, and she could see another tower far across the Castle from them that looked new as well.
Rufus immediately went to a window and began screeching, trying to get Celie to fly with him.
“No, Rufus! Not now,” Celie said. She reached for his harness to pull him away.
There was a great crash, and a shudder. Rufus was thrown back from the window and Celie fell to the floor beside him, banging her knees painfully on the stone floor. Pogue hit his head on the edge of a window and crashed to the floor, moaning. Rolf dropped to all fours and crawled to Pogue as the Castle settled itself.
There was an enormous heave, as though the Castle were trying to break free from the ground. Celie closed her eyes and clung to Rufus. Her hair stood on end, and the twisting sensation at the back of her head was so strong that it nearly made her vomit. When it stopped, she was too weak to raise her head for a few heartbeats.
The silence made Celie’s ears ring. She finally opened her eyes and looked around, but was still too weak to get up.
“All right, Cel?” Rolf said. He was sprawled on the floor beside Pogue, and had to cough first in order to get the words out.
“Fine,” Celie rasped, her voice just as raw. She pointed at Pogue. “What about him?”
Rolf checked Pogue and then nodded. “He’s all right, I think.” He slapped Pogue’s face gently. “Wake up, Pogue!”
Rufus wanted to stand up, so Celie used him to get unsteadily to her feet as well. He leaned against her, and she spent a moment soothing him. Pogue groaned, and Rolf helped him sit up. Celie gave them both a tremulous smile.
“There we go,” Rolf said approvingly.
Pogue took a few deep breaths and touched the growing lump on his temple. “Ow,” he said.
“You’ll be fine,” Rolf assured him.
Celie coughed again and smoothed the feathers on Rufus’s head. Then she looked out the window.
“Is it bleeding?” Pogue asked Rolf.
“You’ll be fine,” Rolf said again, not really answering the question. “But it looks like our staircase is gone, so I’ll sit here with you while Celie flies down for help. All right, Cel?”
Celie didn’t answer.
“Cel! Are you hurt?” Rolf started to scramble to his feet.
“She’s white as milk,” Pogue said. “Where are you hurt?”
“I’m not hurt,” Celie whispered.
“Cel,” Rolf said in concern as he steadied himself on a windowsill. “You look like— By my aunt’s hairy toes!”
“What is it?” Pogue demanded.
He tried to get up and slumped down again, dizzy, but Rolf and Celie didn’t help him. Neither of them could move. They were frozen, staring out the window.
“The Castle’s gone,” Celie said, her voice shaking.
They were in a tower—a single tower in the middle of a forest, surrounded by jagged mountains. Here and there through the trees they could see piles of stones that might have been ruins of other towers, or walls, or even whole rooms. A little distance away was another tower, identical to theirs. It might have been the same one where Rufus hatched, but Celie couldn’t be sure.
“What is it?” Pogue asked again.
Celie spared him a glance. His face was white, bordering on green, and there was a small thread of blood oozing from his head wound. He was swaying from side to side, and she didn’t think he would be able to stand.
Unable to stop herself, Celie looked out the window again. Nothing out there was familiar. Nothing.
“I think … I think we’re in the Glorious Arkower,” Rolf said, and his voice sounded very young.
“Impossible,” Pogue said. He sounded like he might be sick.
“The Glorious Arkower,” Rolf repeated. “The Castle’s own world.”
“Are you sure?” Pogue asked. “Celie? Do you think so, too?”
Celie looked down at him again, her heart thudding irregularly in her chest. Pogue’s voice was weak, and his eyes looked glassy. He started to slump forward, and Rolf dived down and caught him as he fainted again.
Celie moved to help, but something outside caught her eye. She moved to the nearest window instead and peered
out. Rufus crowded against her side and she pushed him back, not wanting him to take off into this strange world.
“What is it?” Rolf had eased Pogue to the floor and was chafing his wrists to try to restore his blood flow.
“Oh, no,” Celie said. “Oh, no! No!”
“What is it?” Rolf left Pogue and joined her at the window.
“It’s Lilah and Lulath,” Celie said, and a sob tore its way through her chest.
“No! They’re trapped here, too? Where?”
Unable to speak, Celie pointed to the other tower. She could see a figure all in bright yellow there, waving its arms. It was Lulath. Behind him was a flicker of blue: Lilah. Rolf waved his arms in response and then turned to Celie.
“We’re all trapped here,” she said. She pointed to where the stairs had been. There was nothing: no stairs, not even a door. “We’re all trapped.”
“Celie,” Rolf said, taking her by the shoulders. “It will be all right. I want you to fly Rufus over to Lilah and Lulath, and see if you can’t bring them back here. We need to make a plan.”
“A plan for what?” She realized that she was gripping a handful of Rufus’s feathers and quickly released him. “Rolf, we’re stuck in the Glorious Arkower, a place so dangerous that a five-hundred-year-old wizard didn’t want to come back to it! I don’t know what you’re planning for, but I’m
planning on sitting here and waiting for Bran to rescue us!” She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
“Oh, really?” Rolf said. “We’re in another world, Cel! A world that contains flocks of griffins! Or … it used to, anyway! Are you really going to just sit here in a tower and wait to be rescued?”
Celie felt a bubbling in her stomach at Rolf’s words. They were in a different world. And there might be other griffins left. She remembered her daydream before Rufus hatched, where she delivered a healthy young roc back to its noble parents. If they really were in the Glorious Arkower, then it was possible that Rufus’s parents were somewhere nearby.
She glanced at Pogue. He was starting to perk up, and his injury didn’t look all that bad. Her bruised arm was feeling better already. And Bran would probably come to get them soon. It would be a shame not to do just a little exploring.
“Let me see if I can get Lilah and Lulath,” Celie said, making up her mind. She swung onto Rufus’s back. “And we’ll make a plan.”
“For getting home?” Rolf raised his eyebrows.
“First things first,” Celie told him. “We need to figure out where the rest of the griffins have gone.”
Celie and Rufus leaped out of the window and started soaring toward the other tower. But Celie looked back at Rolf and Pogue and called out, “Then we’ll find our way home.”
As much as I enjoyed writing about the further adventures of Celie and Castle Glower, this book really took the mickey out of me! It was the most complicated journey that any of my books has ever taken, and I would like to thank, from the depths of my heart, everyone who helped Celie and Castle Glower and all their friends (old and new).
First off, my dear, long-suffering husband. Poor man. Puts in a full day of work at his office, then has to come home, cook, clean, and tuck the kids into bed … and he never complains! Never! (Well, maybe there was one time … but still!) And my poor kids, who are so good about playing quietly while I work and rant and pace and steal their Easter/Halloween/Christmas candy! Thank you, all of you!
Thank you to my extended family: parents, siblings,
and in-laws. Aunts and uncles and cousins who share my books with friends and students, you are wonderful! And a special shout-out to my dear aunt Shirley, who called me the day of my thrice-extended-deadline, out of the blue, to tell me that she’d just finished
Tuesdays at the Castle
and loved it so much she just couldn’t wait for the sequel. I needed that, Shirley. Thank you.
Speaking of thrice-extended-deadlines: thank you, Michelle Nagler, Editor from Heaven! Thank you, thank you, thank you for patiently helping me through the many drafts and missed deadlines and hair-pulling hysteria of this book. And for figuring out where the thing with the maps in the room with the guy had gone.
Special thanks to all the Bloomsbury team, for their tireless help and endless enthusiasm: Katy Hershberger, Bridget Hartzler, Brett Wright, Rachel Stark, Beth Eller, Linette Kim, Caroline Abbey—so much fabulousness! And extra-special thanks to copyeditor Linda Minton: bless you for your astute comments and help in the final stages of this book!
Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you to Amy-My-Awesome-Agent, for never being less than wonderful, for never losing your cool, for being a good friend, and for being a stellar agent and advisor.
And my little one-dimpled, dark-eyed Baby Roo, the youngest of my three children, has been with me for every moment of this book. I started writing it during my
pregnancy, I worked on it during those horrible eleven days he was in the NICU (big hugs to Adriana and Shad, Bev, Dr. Bentley and Dr. Jason, though), and I finished it with him cuddled up in my lap. Baby Roo, this is your book, my love! (Now stop chewing on it!)
