The Invisible Tower (26 page)

Numinae shifted from a stout oak to a wide chestnut to a thin alder; he became hemlock, and cedar, and fir; then he was beech, then birch, then black ash.

And yet he was certainly also a man. The trunk was cloven for his legs, and the long branches at his sides were clearly his arms. His head changed shape but it was always in the same place, and through the leaves and twigs and needles Artie and Kay made out his features: drooping eyes, a long nose, high cheeks, but no sign of a mouth.

He stood before them, his left hand still outstretched. Kay implored Artie, “What are you waiting for?”

This was the key they had been searching for. It was right there, palm up, waiting for the comb—or for Artie's sword.

But Artie refused to cut it so quickly.

First he needed to know what this creature had done with Qwon.

Artie took the comb from Kay and passed it into the hand of Numinae. Kay huffed. She couldn't believe it.

Numinae curled his hard, knobby fingers around the comb. They made snapping noises like breaking twigs. He pulled back his fist and stashed the comb somewhere in his body. Then he took a short step backward, and finally stopped changing.

Numinae now stood before them in his true form.

He was as tall and powerful as a pro-basketball center, with huge hands and broad shoulders. His skin was a seamless patch of vibrant, living moss. Designs were plowed through some sections of his moss-skin, reminding Artie of Merlin's tattoos, and small trees like bonsai were arranged all over him in patterns. From the crown of his head grew a stunted miniature birch, and over one ear rose a gnarled cedar like a radio antenna. His eyes were stunning. The part that should have been white was black, and his irises were shocks of green, and his pupils were as white as new snow.

Then he spoke, his mouth breaking through the moss on the lower part of his face. It was creepy as all get-out. “Thank you for the comb,” he said, bowing slightly and presenting both of his hands in gratitude. His layered voice was like wind through the needles of a pine forest. When he finished talking, his mouth resealed and disappeared beneath the seamless moss.

Artie knew for certain that this was not the Mossman that had taken Qwon. That creature was like a peasant, and Numinae was his undisputed prince. Still, Numinae probably had some idea what had happened to Qwon, and Artie desperately wanted to ask him about it. The only problem was that Artie, finally faced with the magnificent forest lord, was completely dumbstruck and frozen stiff.

Kay, however, was not. She wanted to know where Qwon had gone too, but more than anything she wanted to get the key and have Artie moongate them out of there. As Artie stood gaping at the forest spirit, Kay took action and quickly flicked Cleomede in the direction of Numinae's fuzzy green wrist.

But the dragon, which Kay had somehow managed to forget, whipped his head and snorted. Before she could strike, she was hit with a blast of Tiberius's rock breath. Her arm stopped and she nearly fell over. She looked at her body in disbelief. Her entire right side, Cleomede included, was encased in grating, writhing black basalt.

Kay blurted, “Tiberius, why would you—”

The dragon cut her off. “Hmmph. I am his keeper. The lord and the infant king must parley.”

“But my—”

“Quiet!” the dragon boomed frighteningly. “Or I will do you whole, as Jester Thumb!”

Kay bit her lip and marveled at the statue that was her arm, which felt all pins-and-needly, like it had fallen completely asleep.

Numinae, ignoring this exchange, said to Artie, “Ask your question. We haven't much time.”

And as if on cue, the sky darkened. A heaving storm was moving in quickly from the east.

“Where's Qwon?” Artie demanded.

“I did not take one named Qwon. I took one named Cassie.”

Artie asked desperately, “What do you mean, you didn't take Qwon? There was a Mossman there, kind of like you but smaller. You
had
to have taken Qwon.”

“I did not take one named Qwon,” Numinae repeated.

“Who did then?”

Numinae answered by looking to the east. The storm was going to be a whopper.

“Morgaine?” Artie guessed feebly.

“Yes,” Numinae said. He continued, “You have proven yourself, young king-in-the-making. The comb of Twrch Trwyth is a fine prize.” He took a knee and placed his right hand on Artie's shoulder. Artie felt uneasy letting Numinae touch him. The tree-man continued, speaking softly and only to Artie, “I am still unsure what Merlin wants to do, but I know that what
she
wants will not suffice. I am not sure that I believe in a savior, which is to say you, but I do feel that she will seal our destruction if she prevents the worlds from rejoining.”

Artie was struck by how casual Numinae was, as if everything had already happened. Considering how desperate Artie was to find Qwon, this nonchalance upset him a lot, but he tried to keep his feelings in check.

“You and Morgaine, then, you're not working together?”

Numinae answered slowly, “In the past, yes, but not for a long time—and not now. It may have appeared that I was aiding her, but rest assured that it was merely indecision that made this seem so. Bercilak did not lie to you on this point or any other.”

“Okay. So you're kind of on my side then?”

“Yes. But it would be better if
she
did not know. So we should fight, to make it look like we are at odds.”

Artie understood perfectly. If Morgaine was coming, that meant she'd be watching. And she needed to see that Artie was having trouble with Numinae. Artie stepped back and brandished Excalibur in the space between them.

Numinae rose. Even though Artie knew it was an act, it was really frightening. The tree-man's eyes narrowed. He may have been smiling or frowning, but it was impossible to tell. Artie kind of hated that unless Numinae was speaking he didn't appear to have a mouth.

Kay asked, “What's going on? Are we all like bosom buddies now?”

Numinae looked at Kay and threw his head back a little. “Not quite, Kay Kingfisher.” He turned slightly to his dragon. “I like this one, Tiberius.”

“Hmmmph,” came the dragon's ambiguous reply.

The storm was closer. Lightning illuminated the billowing clouds. Wind gathered and blew across them in quickening gusts.

Numinae said, “The girl you seek is in Fenland, I am certain of it.”

“So we have to go to Fenland to get Qwon?” Artie asked dispiritedly.

“Yes.”

“How will we get there?”

“The wizard will know!”

The wind was terrible now. Artie made some token swipes at the air between them and asked, “So if you're not in cahoots with Morgaine, then how does she know where I am?”

Numinae pointed at Excalibur. “The sword is no longer hidden. Something has been scraped from it.”

Artie glanced at Excalibur. Sure enough, its blade looked different in one very small section. It was where it had cut the hair of Twrch Trwyth. There he saw a small, dark, trembling splotch. The nanospell Merlin had cast on the sword had been compromised!

Numinae suddenly made an awful slithering sound that was like a nest of snakes careening through coarse grass. Then he said, in a low, shaking voice, “She is coming! We must be convincing!”

A fierce downdraft tore from the black clouds, hitting the forest around the mountaintop like a freight train. The trees below exploded like they were made of toothpicks, and a great circle of destruction was laid down in the woods. Even at their distance, the devastation was immediate and impressive.

Numinae recoiled as the swath of forest was laid waste. Artie's voice cracked as he yelled, “Are you ready, Lord Numinae?”

“I am, young Arthur Pendragon!” came his high, loud reply.

Arthur Pendragon
.

Artie didn't have to hear those words a second time to know that, in spite of his life with Kay and Kynder,
that
was his
real name
.

And in that instant the storm was on them. Tiberius hunkered around Kay to protect her, and even though she was still angry at the dragon for turning half of her into a tingling chunk of rock, she leaned into the dragon's side.

A crack swelled in their ears. Two, then three, giant twisters pulled down from the clouds and began to climb up the incline of the mountain.

Artie and Numinae locked eyes. They were ten feet apart and pretending to hold each other at bay with their weapons.

And then Numinae charged, raising his gigantic hammer-hand and tearing it through the air, aiming for Artie's head.

Artie had been in enough fights by now to know how to sidestep an attack like this. The hammer came down with a resounding boom on the rock next to him.

It was a close call and, he had to admit, pretty convincing.

Artie swiped at Numinae's exposed side and scratched his thigh. The tree-man pretended it was worse and yelled. He then jumped back twenty feet, looking like he really wanted to kill Artie.

He hoped this was part of the act too, because it was
really
convincing.

Numinae pushed his left hand into the air, palm forward. A stream of green and brown leaves shot from it on a beam of light. Artie pointed Excalibur at it. His sword took a direct hit, and gobbled up everything the spell delivered.

Numinae pulled his arm back and clenched his hand into a fist. “Ack!” he yelled. He was a good actor—either that or Excalibur's deflection really did hurt.

Kay heard some of this over the scream of the storm but saw none of it. “What's going on, Tiberius?” she wailed.

The dragon said nothing. Rain and hail like buckshot began to hurl from the clouds. Tiberius held a wing over her like an awning.

Artie ignored the hail and held up Excalibur, dashing sidelong to the wind at Numinae.

Numinae cried out as Excalibur hit the maul-arm with a cracking, hollow knock that echoed over the rocks. By some miracle—or more assuredly by some powerful magic—the sword failed to slice through the club. Instead it was embedded in Numinae's arm about two inches deep.

Numinae stood quickly and swung his arm through the air, throwing Artie up and into the wind. And as he flipped around, getting caught momentarily by the vicious storm, Artie realized to his horror that he was no longer holding his precious sword.

He landed hard and slid to a stop. He looked to Numinae, who still had Excalibur stuck in his club. Artie stood and held up his arm against the searing hail and wind, and without thinking ran back to Numinae as quickly as he could.

Just before reaching the tree-man, though, he felt something vaguely familiar. His skin began to tingle and the hair on his head began to stand. A funny smell, like the one he'd noticed in Qwon's room right after she'd been taken, filled the air. And then everything went momentarily white and blue.

When the light cleared, he saw Numinae before him, his right arm ravaged by fire and split down the middle. He was on his knees, screaming, holding his maul with his left hand.

And Excalibur was gone.

Artie scanned the ground and then the air, and he saw it. Excalibur was being lifted into the blackness above, borne on strong invisible wings. It was being taken by the dark lordess of Fenland!

Artie fell to his knees. The unexpected loss of Excalibur knocked the wind from him.

Numinae writhed in pain at his stricken arm. The twisters were gaining, and the damage they wrought on the forest greatly weakened the Sylvan lord.

But then, from somewhere above, came Kay. Her arm was free, and Cleomede was bright and fierce. Tiberius was in the air above her. Kay skidded in front of Artie, holding out the hilt of her sword for him to take.

Artie grabbed Cleomede and pushed through the wind to Numinae. The dragon pummeled the air above, and he boomed through the gale, “Arthur Pendragon! Now you must get what you need'n we'll go!”

As Artie reached Numinae, he looked him in the eyes and said, “I'm sorry.” Then he swung for the fences at Numinae's shaking wrist, and the tree-man's hand fell free at Artie's feet, clenched in a tight fist.

Artie took it. He felt so badly for Numinae. The green lord looked the young king in the eyes once more, and a mysterious wave of connection passed between them.

And then Numinae became a swirl of leaves and twigs and grasses, and his parts were scattered on the wind. Artie knew that he had not been destroyed but that he had done the only logical thing to do: run.

Which he and Kay really had to get around to doing as well.

The tornadoes were upon them. The dragon landed on the stone in front of Artie, and Kay rushed to his side. Tiberius lowered his massive head and instructed, “Grab my ears. Hold'n tight!”

The Kingfishers swung onto the monster's neck, and before they could count to three, they were up and in the storm, dodging through and around the twister funnels as though they were gates on a ski-slalom course.

Horizontal fissures of lightning crisscrossed the ether. The ironlike smell of ozone was everywhere. Tiberius banked and rolled frantically, avoiding the lightning at all costs.

But then he was hit with a crackling broadside, and Kay was struck momentarily deaf.

She turned to her left, to see if Artie was okay.

But he wasn't okay. He was gone.

Kay screamed. They were falling. Tiberius was knocked out. She yanked hard on the dragon's ear and leaned over to look at his eye. It was open and rolling around in its socket.

Then something caught her attention. Farther down, she saw the free-falling body of her brother, and just next to him the speck of greenery that was Numinae's hand.

“Tiberius,” she wailed, kicking the dragon's head with one of her legs. “Tiberius, wake up now!”

Miraculously, the dragon heard her. His pupil narrowed and his wings suddenly came to life, righting them instantly. Lightning veiled the air. Kay risked letting go with one hand and pointed to the forest floor. “He's there! The hand too!”