Chapter 24
Billy knelt in front of the fireplace in the crowded den and blew a stream of fire at the stack of kindling. Within seconds, the thin boards burst into flames. He plopped onto a green beanbag chair between two identical beanbags that held Bonnie and Walter.
His mom set down two snack trays next to several empty bottles on the glass-covered coffee table. “Anyone hungry?”
Walter’s dad and the professor each filled a small plate with raw vegetables, crackers, cubes of cheddar cheese, and slices of lean ham. Walter lifted an entire tray, but a sharp look from his dad brought it back to the table. Walter settled for a heaping pile of ham, cheese, and potato chips and slid back into his beanbag.
A loud clatter sounded at Walter’s feet, and Billy jumped up. “Walter, you kicked Excalibur.”
Walter pulled his feet back. “Oops! Sorry.”
Billy retrieved the sword and leaned it against the sofa’s end table. With his fingers on the hilt, Excalibur brightened the den, its silver blade reflecting every light in the room. Billy paused to straighten the other items on the table, a clear plastic folder that held Bonnie’s adoption papers, signed and sealed, and an ornate pen at its side. Next to the folder, Bonnie’s journal lay open to the last chapter, her description of their latest adventures. Dirt smudged a few pages, literal evidence that it had been unearthed from the very mountain quake it described.
Billy kicked Walter’s socked feet. “Where’s your mom?”
Walter kicked back, landing a blow on Billy’s shin. “She’s in the kitchen getting more food.” Walter smirked. “Barlow and his knights act like they haven’t eaten in over a thousand years.”
“Yeah, well look whose plate’s stacked higher than his nose.” Billy kicked at Walter again, but Walter dodged. “What video did they decide on,
Planet of the Apes
or
Braveheart
”?
“You missed out on a good scrap while you were fetching the wood. Newman argued for the apes, but Barlow finally convinced the others to vote for
Braveheart
. Dad sent them down to the basement TV when Barlow got too loud with his color commentary.”
Billy grabbed a poker and stirred up the logs. “Yeah, I’ll bet he knows quite a bit about warfare.” The flames licked the firewood and blazed brightly.
Mr. Foley plowed a chip into a large bowl of salsa. “Well, with you around, I guess I won’t need to buy starter logs for a while.”
“Yes,” the professor added, taking a sip from a steaming cup. “I believe there could be many practical uses for young William’s talents.”
Walter grabbed a big handful of chips and winked at Billy. “And some not so practical.”
“What?” Billy’s mother glared at him with a pretend scowl. “What are you up to, Mister?”
Billy raised his eyebrows innocently as he slid into a beanbag next to Walter. “Uh, fireworks, Mom. We were going to set off some fireworks. Right, Walter?”
“Yeah,” Walter said, his mouthful of potato chips crumbling into his hand, “for the next celebration, when Ashley and Karen and the others come to stay.”
Mrs. Foley walked in with a tray of buffalo wings and set them down on the snack table. She took two wings, snuggled into her husband’s lap, and handed one to him. After a taste, she licked her fingers. “Carl, tell them what Fred said when you asked if Ashley could have a job.”
The professor put down his cup. “Yes, Carl. Did he make her an offer?”
Carl snickered. “Are you kidding? He offered her twice what I make. He took one look at Ashley’s computer schematic, and he acted like a goof! He actually danced a jig on top of his desk! And he sang a song that went something like, ‘Watch out big boys, here comes Fred, the techno-mouse that’s gonna roar!’”
Mrs. Foley stuffed another chicken wing in her husband’s mouth, and everyone laughed, even Mr. Foley, his face turning fire alarm red.
The professor sat back, smiling, and took another sip of tea. “So Miss Stalworth will build the next generation supercomputer.”
Mr. Foley took a bite from his chicken wing. “Ashley
is
the next generation supercomputer. But, yeah, she’s already got it all in her head. She could have made even more money in a bigger city, but,” he turned and nodded toward Bonnie, “she has certain people she wants to be close to.”
Bonnie smiled. A thin new chain hung around her neck, a broken crystal dangling at the bottom—a fractured half of the candlestone. With the blinds closed, she had shed her backpack, but her wings stayed folded close to her body, a homemade bandage wrapping one of the outer mainstays. “Did Ashley say when she’s coming?”
Mr. Foley nibbled away a last bit of chicken and dropped the stripped wing on a plate at his side. “As soon as Karen’s cleared to travel, probably next week. Fred was going to send her plane tickets, but Ashley wants to drive.”
The professor stood up and limped to the center of the room. “Very good.” He set his cup down on the coffee table and cleared his throat. “All is going well, my friends, and now that many secrets have been revealed, I must bring a few more items into the light.”
“Like what, Prof? Is Billy going to transluminate someone else?”
Billy kicked Walter again. “Just listen!” Walter drew a halo over his head, and Billy stifled a laugh, but not very well.
The professor glared at the two boys and cleared his throat again. “As did Devin, I came to Castlewood in search of someone—he for a dragon, I for an heir. It is clear that we fulfilled our quest in the same person, William Bannister, for he and Bonnie are the keys to all the prophecies concerning the future of the dragon race.”
Billy sneaked a look at Bonnie. Her eyes were focused on the floor, and her face glowed red. He swiveled his head back before she could notice his glance.
“You may have guessed by now that my appearance is remarkably similar to Merlin’s. That’s because I am his direct descendant. Also, because of my resemblance to an ancient sketch that the people of my order possess, I have actually been dubbed Merlin by the Steward of the Circle of Knights.”
Walter wrinkled his nose. “The Circle of Knights?”
The professor placed his palm on his chest. “We are a protectorate, six men of knightly ancestry who continue to meet without their king. One man, Sir Patrick, has been named steward until he passes away or is found unworthy, or until Arthur returns to take his place as the head of the Circle.”
Walter’s face brightened. “The return of the king to replace a steward? Sounds like
Lord of the Rings
, doesn’t it? Like Aragorn returning to replace Denethor?”
“Not exactly, Walter, though there are similarities. Although Aragorn is cast in the image of Arthur, our Sir Patrick is not the fool, Denethor, of Mr. Tolkien’s wondrous epic. In any case, the return of Arthur has been awaited since long before Mr. Tolkien took up a pen, and the Circle will welcome the great event.”
“What does this ‘Circle’ do?” Bonnie asked.
The professor shook his head slowly. “I cannot say while all of you are present, although I will tell William the details later.” He grasped the back of a chair, and his knuckles turned white. “I can tell you that a different order is our enemy, a group of seven called ‘The New Table.’”
Walter punched Billy’s leg. “Why can you tell Billy and not the rest of us?”
“Because,” the professor said, reaching for Billy’s hand, “he is the heir I have sought. We have believed that Arthur would return at our time of greatest need, and our peril is truly great, a ticking time bomb that threatens not only England, but every man, woman, and child in the world.” The professor pulled Billy to his feet and then dropped to one knee before him, bowing his head. “I salute you, William, Guardian of the True Light. May your service be long and prosperous.”
Billy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You think I’m Arthur?” He put his hand under the professor’s arm to try to lift him up. “I’m no king!”
The professor rose to his feet again. “Arthur’s rule and his return are symbolic of a deliverer, typifying the Christ. You will soon learn of your mission, and you must learn quickly. The date of destruction is set in stone, and it is fast approaching. Our enemies have not rested.”
“Enemies?” Billy lifted a necklace of his own. The other half of the candlestone dangled at the bottom. “Didn’t we get rid of Devin? The candlestone’s powerless. What can they do?”
“Merlin told me of another vulnerability in dragons, and I can only assume from observing your behavior that you and Bonnie have both inherited it. Apparently, Devin knew of this weakness—although I only call it a weakness for lack of a better word—and he has used it to kill many dragons in the past. I will tell you about it in private when the time is right.”
Billy tucked the gem beneath his shirt. What was behind the professor’s mysterious manner? “But if Devin’s gone, maybe the secret will die with him.”
“Perhaps Devin is gone, but do you have his body? And what of Palin?”
Billy balled one hand into a fist. “Yeah, no one found Palin. There was too much rubble where I dragged him.”
“And there are more like him. Although Devin was not one of the seven in The New Table, he was their assassin, the cruel mind who commanded their violent activities. The claws and tail contain the poison of this beast, and there is yet another enemy who influences their minds, more cruel and sinister than Devin, a creature whose name I will not utter here.”
Billy took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. “So what do I have to do?”
The professor withdrew an airline ticket from his trouser pocket and handed it to Billy. “I request that you come with me to England to meet Patrick and take on your mission.”
“England!” Walter exclaimed. “Cool!”
Billy studied the ticket, reading his name there in computer print. He folded the ticket in half and slowly raised his head again. “How about Walter and Bonnie? Can they come, too?”
“We must first go alone and meet the Circle. After I explain your mission, it is essential that Bonnie come to help you. Her place in the prophecy is vital. Regarding Walter, I will have to ask Patrick if he will be allowed to join you.”
“What about Barlow and his knights? Are they part of this mission? They can’t live in the Foleys’ basement forever.” Billy smirked. “That
Braveheart
video won’t last a thousand years.”
The professor smiled and placed a hand on Billy’s back. “William, with your addition, the Circle will possess seven members; there are no other seats available. But our order will require the services of brave soldiers. Again, these assignments will be up to you, but Barlow and company are courageous and loyal men, true, authentic knights. As Merlin, your trusted adviser, I will likely make application for them, and they will be tested to prove their worth.”
“And what about the dragons?” Billy asked. “Clefspeare and Hartanna.”
The professor withdrew his hand and stepped back. “I can tell you this, William; if not for dragons, you would never succeed in your mission. Their role may make all the difference.”
The professor’s eyes mellowed into two aging oracles, as if they had seen hundreds of battles, scores of earthquakes, and even the changing of the guard in heaven. “Merlin has left me with many of his thoughts, William, as though I have retained his memories and learned his prophecies. In the light of his remaining flame, I see villains, ambushes, and tortures. Great danger is in your path.”
The aged teacher pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. “There is also another prophecy I can share with you now. It was in the diary, and Merlin has somehow burned it indelibly in my memory. I will sing it, but do not bother to ask its meaning. As yet, I have no idea. I assume, however, that its message will become clear, and helpful, as we journey into our new adventure.”
He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, his voice transforming into a rich, sweet tenor. He sang as a prophetic bard of old, his song mysterious and captivating.
With sword and stone, the holy knight,
Darkness as his bane,
Will gather warriors in the light
Cast in heaven’s flame.
He comes to save a remnant band,
Searching with his maid,
But in a sea of sadness finds
His warriors lying splayed.
A valley deep, a valley long
Lay angels dry and dead
Now who can wake their cold, stone hearts
Their bones on table spread?
Like wine that flows in skins made new
The spirit pours out fresh
Can hymns of love bring forth the dead
And give them hearts of flesh?
O will you learn from words of faith
That sing in psalms from heaven
To valley floors where terrors lurk
In circles numbering seven?
Billy placed his hands on the sides of his head. This was just too much to take in all at once. He had already been through a bloody battle! The professor just piped this weird new song that made no sense at all. And now . . . he was supposed to be a deliverer? “What next?”
“Only to say whether or not you will go with me. I guarantee nothing save that your trials are not complete.”
Billy unfolded the plane ticket and stared at it. The professor really meant for him to fly to England.
He’s never been so serious before, so solemn. Is he afraid? And that song! Scary stuff!
He glanced at his mother.
Poor Mom. What’s she thinking? Sure, she’s proud of me, but should I go off halfway around the world chasing after the professor’s dream? Still, I really can’t ask her. It wouldn’t be fair.
Walter’s ever-present smile faded. With a tight jaw and clenched fist, he gave Billy a firm nod. Bonnie, on the other hand, beamed like the glory of the rising sun. Having faced her greatest fears, she came out of the darkness to find the one she had sought through pain and tears. Billy also found a beacon in the darkness— the light that radiated in Bonnie’s spirit— and she had shown him the way to its source. Now that light burned within Billy’s heart more fervently than any dragon’s fire. What could he do but pour it forth, shining his light down whatever path he might be called?