Crown of Dreams (10 page)

The bloodbeards handled her with extra care after that, as if they were being watched. Two of them carried her through an echoing space to somewhere more muffled, where they set her
down on something soft. Then they loosened the rope about her ankles.

Rhianna tensed, listening for clues. Where had her cousin got to? How many men were guarding her? She thought only two, but there might more out in the cave. She’d have to be ready to run fast.

As she gathered her courage, she heard the clank of a chain and felt something cold click shut around her ankle. She kicked frantically, but too late. They loosened the ropes about her sack and quickly stepped back.

By the time she’d fought her way out of the filthy thing, the bloodbeards had retreated down the tunnel, leaving her chained in a small alcove. Rhianna tugged at the chain, but it had been hammered into the rock and held firm. She flung the ropes after them with a furious
shout. “Take this thing off me!” she yelled. “I’m King Arthur’s daughter! You can’t treat me like this! You’ll be sorry…”

She tried to see where they had gone, but from her position she couldn’t even see the waterfall that hid the entrance to the cave, though she could still hear its roar. With such a loud noise, nobody outside would hear her scream.

She hugged her knees, fighting tears. She wouldn’t give Mordred the satisfaction of seeing her cry. She took a deep breath and looked around for something to use as a weapon. Her alcove was lit by a single candle, but it had been placed out of her reach. Bones were piled in the corners. She sat on a red cloak with a bloodstain on one corner. She touched the blood and turned cold.

A chuckle made her tense. “Not so tough
without your magic sword, are you, cousin?”

Her skin prickled as Mordred’s crippled body filled the entrance to her prison. He leaned on a spear, and something glittered about his head.

“You haven’t got Excalibur, either,” Rhianna pointed out, trying to decide if the chain was long enough for her to kick him again. But he stayed out of reach in the shadows of the tunnel.

Mordred smiled. “Ah, but one of my dragons has. Don’t worry, it’ll keep the Sword of Light safe for me until I’m ready to ride to Camelot and claim my throne.”

“They’re not your dragons,” she said, gritting her teeth. “And it’s not your throne. It’s King Arthur’s, and when he returns from Avalon he’s not going to be very pleased when
he hears how you chained me up like a slave.”

Mordred sighed. “We’ve already had this conversation. Your dear father is not going to return to the world of men for a very long time, if at all. Only the Grail of Stars has the power to command an unwilling soul back into its body before it is ready, and you’ll never find the Grail without the knowledge stored in the Crown of Dreams. You didn’t even take him the Sword of Light when you had the chance last year. You wanted to keep it for yourself, and look what happened… still, what can you expect when you give damsel a sword? Anyway, you’re wrong, cousin. They
are
my dragons.”

He limped forward into the candlelight, tossed back his cloak and smiled at her. He had washed and curled his hair so it hung across his scar, making him look quite handsome. He
wore a black gauntlet over his stump, and silver and black tunic embroidered with his double-headed eagle. On his head sat a glittering crown with a green jewel glowing at his forehead – the same crown she had seen in her dream, and in Merlin’s song pictures back in Avalon at the start of her quest.

He smiled triumphantly at her. “Suits me, doesn’t it, cousin? This is the crown of the ancient Dragonlords, passed down through the Pendragon bloodline to the true heir. Whoever wears this crown can control dragons and command the forces of Annwn. So you see, the Sword of Light will soon be mine as well as your father’s throne. An army of dragons and ghosts should take care of Camelot’s walls, I think.”

Rhianna’s heart sank. All the strength ran
out of her. That bloodbeard had been telling the truth, after all.

“The Crown of Dreams,” she whispered.

A
t first, Rhianna felt like bursting into tears. Mordred leaned on his spear, watching her with his dark smile. The crown glittered on his head as if it had been made for him. Did it really give him control
over dragons? If so, she’d as good as handed him Excalibur.

Then she saw the tense look in his eye and remembered the bloodbeards who had captured her saying:
Prince Mordred’s obviously not as in control of them as he thinks he is.
A flicker of hope returned.

“But the Crown doesn’t work for you, does it?” she said sweetly. “Not without King Arthur’s jewel. That’s why you haven’t killed me – you need all the jewels before you can use its magic.”

“It works well enough,” he said through gritted teeth. He took a step closer, his fist tight on the spear.

She pressed back against the rock, acting scared. He might wear her father’s crown, but he was still a cripple. If he came just a step or two
closer, she might be able to kick that spear out from under him and turn it against him. Then she would make the bloodbeards let her go.

But Mordred stayed just out of reach of her chain. He laughed at her frustrated expression.

“Give it up, cousin. You’re no shrinking damsel – I know your tricks. You’re right, though, in a way. I need that jewel so I can destroy it and everything Arthur stood for before I can claim the Pendragon throne. I was informed you wore the stone around your neck, but it seems not. Tell me where it is, and maybe I’ll let you live to see me crowned King of Camelot.”

“Never!” Rhianna said.

Destroy
her father’s jewel? All his secrets would be lost.

He nodded, as if he’d expected her to say
as much. “Then it seems I’m going to have to persuade you to help me another way. If you’re not worried about your own life, maybe you’ll be slightly more worried about your little friends out there in the hills. They’re all alone, you know, looking for you. I’m guessing, since you don’t have it, that one of them has the jewel. Rather than waste any more time, I’ll simply send my shadrake after them. The creature might have to kill your friends to get hold of the stone, but that’ll save me the bother. So if they don’t have it, now’s the time to say.”

He waited, a little smile playing on his lips.

She turned cold at the thought of the shadrake hunting Elphin and Cai. But if her cousin couldn’t control ordinary dragons properly, how would he control the shadrake from Annwn?

“The shadrake can’t hurt them,” she said, hoping this was true. “Cai carries the Lance of Truth, and Elphin’s got his harp.”

“Ah yes. The second Light made by the hands of men, and the magic of Avalon… one useless in a squire’s hands, the other useless against a creature of Annwn. Well, cousin, you’ll find my power is stronger than you think. Watch and learn.”

He closed his eyes, and the green jewel at the front of the crown began to glow. The air in the cave turned colder. “Come, shadrake!” Mordred called. “I wear the crown of the ancient Dragonlords who once rode you through the skies. I command you to return to the lair where you were born!”

At first nothing happened. Rhianna breathed again. He must be bluffing, trying to
scare her. She quietly unbuckled Excalibur’s empty scabbard. While he was distracted, maybe she could use it to hook the spear towards her?

But even as she coiled the belt ready to swing, a green flash lit up the tunnel behind Mordred, dazzling her. A dull boom echoed deep within the hillside, followed by scrabbling claws out in the cave. Frightened neighs came from the horses.

“I COME, PENDRAGON!” bellowed a familiar dragon voice.

An icy wind rushed up the tunnel, blowing out some of the candles. Small stones fell from the roof and a trickle of dust landed in her hair. Rhianna brushed it off, sweating a little. What if the stupid creature brought the whole hillside down on them?

“Not in here!” Mordred looked round in alarm. “Get after the Avalonian prince and that useless squire who carries the Lance of Truth, and kill them for me. Bring me any jewels you find on them. And while you’re at it, bring me the Lance as well.”

“WILL YOU RIDE WITH ME, PENDRAGON?”

Mordred’s face twisted in sudden pain, and Rhianna saw her chance. She spun the scabbard across the floor, aiming for the spear he’d been using as a crutch.

The buckle end of her belt whipped around its shaft, jerking the dark knight off balance. He fell to his knees, and the green glow from the jewel faded. The Crown of Dreams slipped off his head and rolled across the floor.

Rhianna dived after it at the same time as
Mordred. The chain tugged at her ankle, but not before her fingers closed about the crown. It was unexpectedly hot, and she almost let go again. Mordred grabbed it too, having abandoned his spear when he realised the trick.

They were evenly matched. His crippled leg handicapped him, just like her chained ankle. But he only had one hand, and he needed that to grip the crown. She reached for his spear with her free hand and brought it down as hard as she could across his knuckles. He let go with a yell of rage and called for his men to help him.

Fending off the dark knight with the spear, Rhianna retreated against the wall and did the only thing she could think of. She took a deep breath and jammed the Crown of Dreams on to her own head.

Her heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and terror. She had no idea what to expect. Would its magic work for her, or would it kill her?

At first the crown felt too big, and she thought it would slip over her eyes and make her look stupid. Then it tightened, and she felt little spots of heat from the jewels, warmest on her forehead where the green stone still glowed faintly. There was a cold patch near the back – was it where her father’s missing jewel belonged?

A great hush surrounded her. Then the whispers started inside her head.

“Who is she?”

“A damsel…”

“Another witch like Le Fay?”

“No, a warrior maid of the blood… but a girl cannot inherit the throne.”

“Best get rid of her so the crown can pass to the prince…”

She almost snatched the thing off again. But she knew she wouldn’t get another chance to help her friends. She closed her eyes like Mordred had done and thought of the dragon.

“Shadrake!” she called. “Shadrake, can you hear me? I wear the Crown of Dreams now. I’ll ride with you.
I’m
not afraid.”

Dark wings flapped inside her head, banishing the whispers. Something pressed between her eyes. She felt the dragon’s surprise… then suddenly the pressure eased, and her spirit was flying above the clouds through a red and gold sunset.

It was so beautiful, she forgot her body was chained in the dragon’s lair at the mercy of her cousin and his bloodbeards. It felt like a dream, only better, because she could feel the wind on her cheeks and smell the ice in the air. She was spirit-riding the shadrake, just as Merlin had done before he found his falcon body!

Through rags of mist far below, she saw a wooded valley and a river with two white horses standing on the bank. A small figure dressed in Avalonian green knelt beside the water, studying some prints in the mud. His back was turned to the dragon as it shrieked in recognition and dived, carrying Rhianna’s spirit helplessly towards him.

“Elphin!” she yelled, forgetting he couldn’t possibly hear her. “Elphin, look behind you!”

Her viewpoint swerved back towards the
wood as a grey horse came galloping out of the trees, ridden by a plump squire clinging to a lance. The dragon’s eye focused on the glittering weapon, and she felt its desire for the shiny thing. The boy pointed the lance determinedly at her and shouted a challenge.

“Cai!” she gasped. “Don’t! It’s me—”

The shadrake back-winged in confusion. She saw Elphin spring to his feet and run for his harp, which he’d left tied to Evenstar’s saddle. The shadrake breathed a long plume of ice, freezing the surface of the river. Evenstar misted one way to avoid it, and Alba – the second horse – misted the other.

Glad to see her mare had escaped the bloodbeards, and forgetting she was in the body of a dragon, she chased the little horse. Alba fled over the river, cracking the ice and
misting again. The shadrake shook its head in annoyance.

Elphin went down on one knee, looking very small and alone. His harp shimmered in the sunset, and his thin face was raised towards her. She heard a faint ripple of Avalonian music. For a heartbeat his violet eyes met hers, and she heard his voice singing in her head.

“Four Lights stand against the dark… The Sword Excalibur that was forged in Avalon…”

“Leave my friends alone!” she commanded the shadrake, suddenly seeing how to distract it. “You don’t have to take their treasure. I know where there’s a beautiful, shiny sword!” She summoned a memory of the red dragon carrying off Excalibur, and the shadrake shrieked again and abandoned its attack.

With strong wing beats, they flew over
the wood and up into the mountains. She looked down and saw the old stone circle where she’d been captured flash beneath them. The shadrake crossed the road where the dragons had ambushed their party, but she could see no sign of the knights. A chill went through her. Where had they got to? She hoped they weren’t dead.

Then she saw a rock shaped like a finger on a mountain top, and glimpsed the entrance to a cave. Smoke curled out of the hillside. As the shadrake flapped closer, her heart beat faster and she knew it had brought her to the right place. The red dragon that had taken her sword launched itself out of the cave, screaming a challenge and belching out flame. The shadrake breathed ice in answer, and the two dragons met in a shower of icy rain.

“No,” she gasped. “No, don’t fight—”

Laughter broke the spell, and something snapped in Rhianna’s head as her spirit whirled back to the shadrake’s lair.

She opened her eyes, expecting to see Mordred and his bloodbeards. But Morgan Le Fay’s ghost sat on a pile of blackened bones, blocking the way into the alcove and stopping Rhianna’s spirit from returning to her body. The witch’s ghost looked more solid than she had at the North Wall in the spring. Her hair glimmered with green light.

“So, Rhianna Pendragon,” she said with another laugh. “You managed to get the Crown of Dreams off my idiot of a son and spirit-ride the shadrake. Enjoying the experience, were you?”

Rhianna scowled at the ghost in frustration.
“Go away. I’m not scared of you. You’re dead. You can’t hurt me.”

The witch chuckled. “Clearly you’ve no idea what wearing that crown really means. This is one of the gates to Annwn, where the dead can pass into the world of the living. You heard them when you put the crown on, didn’t you? The voices of the old Pendragon lords? So tell me what I want to know, and maybe I’ll let your spirit return to your body. I believe my son asked what you did with your father’s jewel. You haven’t brought it with you, so where did you leave it?”