Hawthorn (17 page)

“I am pleased to know she followed my instructions and that she founded an Order of such brave ladies and knights.” She inclined her head to Nathan.

“And did you leave instructions for her to build a castle near the third vessel?” Nathan asked.

“Yes, only . . .” She frowned. “If your Order doesn't know of it perhaps she failed.”

“I have watched and listened to the young students of the Order for many centuries now,” Sir Isumbras said, “and I have never heard them mention the third vessel. I believe it fell out of knowledge.”

“A lot fell out of our knowledge,” Nathan said. There was an edge of impatience in his voice that set my skin prickling. “Can we see the picture of where the third vessel is? Even as we speak the Shadow Master is searching for it.”

Sir Isumbras stood, his armor clattering, his hand moving toward the hilt of his sword, clearly disapproving of Nathan addressing his lady in such a tone.

“We don't mean to be rude,” I said, moving in between Nathan and Sir Isumbras, “but Nathan's right. Van Drood, the Shadow Master, is preparing for a terrible war. I've traveled into the future and seen what will happen if the third vessel is broken. The world will be engulfed in war; the shadows will take over everything. We must find it first and protect it.”

“If we show them where the third vessel is how do we know they won't lead this Shadow Master to it?” Sir Isumbras asked.

“The girl is a phoenix,” she replied. “She is destined to protect the vessel. I cannot keep its location from her.” She pointed to the wall behind us. “I have woven the location of the place where the third vessel is buried there.”

Nathan turned before me and crossed to the tapestry and swore under his breath. “Another castle by another river surrounded by
another
wood. How are we supposed to find it from this?”

The scene did look much like the one of Blythewood, only . . .

“This river is much
bendier
than the Hudson, and that castle . . .” I stepped closer. “That castle and the way it's set on the river looks familiar.”

“Of course it looks familiar,” Nathan said disgustedly, “they all look alike.”

“No, this curve of the river is so sharp it practically shuts off the castle in an island, and this curve here upriver looks like
a tomb. I've seen this river on a map in Mr. Bellows's room . . .” I closed my eyes, picturing the map on Mr. Bellows's desk marking the sites of battles.

“It's in the Ardennes forest,” I said. “I think the river is called the Semois. A battle will take place near it. I'm sure if I saw the map again I could locate this bend.”

“The Semois,” Nathan said. “In the Ardennes. Yes, I think I could find that. We ought to go.” He turned to me, the whites of his eyes looking very bright against the dark blue paint on his face. I turned back to Lady Aethelena and Sir Isumbras. They were gazing into each other's eyes so deeply I hated to interrupt them.

“Um, we really ought to go,” I said quietly. “I don't know how to thank you.”

Lady Aethelena turned dreamy eyes on me and smiled. “It is I who should thank you. You have brought my knight back to me.”

“But is he . . .” I started to ask if he were real or just an image that had come out of a tapestry.

“I wove a bit of our souls into the tapestry,” she said, answering my unspoken question. “And now the elven gold has restored him. Will you stay with me, my brave knight?”

“To my last breath and beyond,” he answered. He began to bow his head but she caught his chin with her hand and held his gaze. They seemed frozen in time—as if they'd become part of a tapestry again—and I thought of Helen's wish to stop time and how I'd seen my friends crossing the lawn and thought they looked like figures in a tapestry. You couldn't stop time, I might tell Helen now, but there were moments that marked you that
were inside you forever. I turned to Nathan, wiping the tears from my eyes, and was surprised to see that his face was wet, too.

“Yes, we'd better be going,” he said hoarsely. “We can climb up these roots.”

I saw that the roots of the hawthorn tree formed a ladder along one wall. “If only we'd known that before we fell!”

“Yes,” Nathan said. “I'll go first to make sure it will hold.”

I could have told him it didn't matter if I fell, but I didn't want to hurt his pride.
Seeing Sir Isumbras has inspired a chivalric spirit in him
, I thought as I watched him climb to the top of the vessel and climb through the opening. When he'd gotten through he turned and looked down at me.

“I'm sorry, Ava,” he said.

“For what?” I asked.

He didn't answer. Instead he pulled the slab over the top, sealing me inside.

I GAPED OPEN-MOUTHED
at the closed ceiling, expecting any second for Nathan to open it back up and reveal that he'd only been joking. He wouldn't really trap me in the vessel and leave me here for eternity. Would he?

I flew up and threw myself at the opening, first pushing against the slab, then pounding on it with my fists, screaming Nathan's name, then scrabbling at the edges with my fingernails.

“It doesn't open from the inside,” Lady Aethelena called from below me. “I'm afraid your knight has betrayed you.”

“He's not my knight,” I shouted back, still pounding on the stone. “He's my friend—at least I
thought
he was my friend!” I shouted the last bit, hoping that Nathan could hear me. But the only answer I got was the mocking echo of my words in the hollow vessel.

Friend, friend, friend . . .

I reared back, beating my wings into a fiery fury, and threw myself at the slab. I hit it so hard that I was thrown backward and landed on the floor of the vessel in a smoldering heap of singed feathers. I drew my knees in and mantled my burnt wings over my head and gave in to the tears. How could I have
trusted Nathan? He must have been taken over by the shadows long ago. He'd come to Hawthorn to find the third vessel for van Drood and now he was on his way there. He didn't care if I rotted here.

I felt a cool hand on my wings, putting out the fire and smoothing my ruffled feathers. “I saw the look of sorrow in your friend's eyes,” Lady Aethelena said. “I don't believe he betrayed you lightly.”

“What does that matter? He still betrayed me. And now van Drood will get to the vessel first.”

“Does your knight possess wings?” Sir Isumbras asked.

I looked up and pushed my hair out of my face. “No,” I sniffed.

“Then perhaps you will still be able to catch up with him.”

“Can you open the vessel for me?” I asked, sitting up and pointing at his sword. “With that?”

Sir Isumbras shook his head sadly. “The sword only opens the vessel from outside,” he said, “but I think you have other friends who have come for you. Listen . . .”

I opened my Darkling ears and heard footsteps coming from above—and voices.

“I'm here!” I shouted, getting to my feet.

“Ava?” It was Daisy calling my name. I wiped the tears from my face and called back to her. “We're here, Ava,” I heard Mr. Bellows call, “but we don't know how to open this thing.”

“How can they open it without that sword?” I asked Sir Isumbras and Lady Aethelena.

“One of your friends is a knight of the Order,” Sir Isumbras replied. “I have seen him from the tapestry. He carries a dagger
of the Order that contains the power to open the vessel. Tell him to pass it over the slab while saying the spell for opening. I believe that will work.”

“Thank you. I'd better get closer.” I spread my wings out to fly to the top, but first I bowed to Lady Aethelena. “Thank you for trying to comfort me, but I'm afraid that Nathan is really lost. I was a fool not to see it.”

“One is never a fool for believing in a friend,” Lady Aethelena said. “It's that belief that may save your friend in the end . . . and yourself.”

I looked from her to Sir Isumbras. Their love for each other had lasted centuries; of course she believed in the power of loyalty. But they were only figures in an old romantic story. That wasn't my story. I bowed to each of them again and flew up to the opening. I shouted to Mr. Bellows to use his dagger and an opening spell. I heard him muttering, “I'm a blasted idiot!” and Daisy murmuring something reassuring. Then Mr. Bellows recited a long Latin spell and the slab slid away. I had to fold my wings to get through the opening, with Daisy and Mr. Bellows grabbing my arms to pull me through.

“What happened down there?” Daisy asked, clucking over my burnt wings. “Is Nathan with you?”

“Nothing's down there but a bunch of old wall hangings,” Collie shouted. He and Bottom and Jinks were leaning over the vessel peering inside. I looked over their heads and saw that Collie was right: there was nothing inside the vessel but tapestries, one of which looked newly woven. It depicted a knight and a lady, their hands joined, their eyes locked in an eternal gaze. Lady Aethelena and Sir Isumbras were back in the land of myth
and story, I thought as the boys wrestled the slab back over the opening. I almost wished I could have stayed with them.

“Nathan's gone,” I said. “He trapped me in there. He's been working with van Drood all along.”

“Blimey!” Collie cried. “I don't believe it!”

“Nor me,” Jinks said stubbornly.

“There'll be an explanation,” Bottom insisted, rubbing his eyes. “Becky's a good chap.”

I sighed. “You're all as daft as Lady Aethelena. We don't have time to argue. Nathan's gotten at least an hour's start.”

Daisy and Mr. Bellows looked at each other while the boys all gaped at me. “An hour?” Collie said. “You've been down there over a week!”

“I don't understand,” I said for the sixth or seventh time as we made our way back through the maze. “How could I have lost that much time? I wasn't in Faerie.”

“The vessel was made by fairies,” Mr. Bellows said. “It's outside human time—at least that's the best I can figure it out. We're lucky you only lost a week. You could have lost ten years like last time.”

“What does it matter if we're too late—and why did you take a week to find me?” I stopped so abruptly that Bottom ran into me. We'd reached the door to the bailey. I sniffed the air, looking for that scent of steak and kidney pie but of course it was long gone. “I left sigils to guide you.”

“They ran out,” Daisy said. “We thought you must have been too rushed to keep marking the way.”

“I marked the turnings all the way to the vessel . . .” I began, but Mr. Bellows had already figured it out.

“Nathan must have erased them so we couldn't find you right away and he'd have a head start.”

“Which means,” Daisy said, “that Nathan didn't lose any time in the vessel. The sigils vanished a week ago. He must have erased them and then hid in the dark while we passed him.”

“You could have been lost in the maze forever,” I said, glaring at Jinks, Collie, and Bottom, daring them to try to defend Nathan now, but they only fidgeted awkwardly and looked at their feet. Even they couldn't come up with a defense for their hero. “How
did
you find the way?” I asked.

“It was Daisy's idea!” Mr. Bellows said, beaming at her.

“Yeah, Moffy came up with a wizard idea,” Collie said. “She sent lampsprites through the tunnels.”

“Oh, but I couldn't have done it without you,” Daisy said modestly. “Collie had the idea of attaching strings to their feet and Bottom ran after them—oh d'you remember when Jinks got all tangled up like a maypole?” They all laughed and I felt a pang for the week I'd missed, as much for the camaraderie Daisy—
Moffy?
—had formed with the Hawthorn boys as for the head start Nathan had gotten.

“Yes, wizard, Daisy, well done and jolly good and all that rot. And while you were playing ring-around-the-rosy all week Nathan was racing toward the Ardennes.”

“The Ardennes?” Mr. Bellows asked, the smile vanishing from his face. “Is that where the vessel is?”

“Yes, I recognized it from the map on your desk—in the future, that is. Why? Do you know it?”

“Quite well, actually. I took a walking tour on holiday once with a few chums. The area is crawling with fairies.”

“It would be,” I said. “There must be a door to Faerie near the vessel. If I can see a map I think I can show you exactly where it is.”

“There are maps in the tower room,” Mr. Bellows said, “and Mr. Farnsworth will want to see that we're all right.”

I raced up the rest of the stairs to the top of the tower, itching to be moving. I'd already lost more time than we could afford. Nathan might already be in Belgium. We found Mr. Farnsworth seated at the long table just as we'd found him a week ago. In another hundred years he'd be a part of the tapestry. He looked up from the book he was reading when we burst in.

“Ah, so you found her! I was beginning to worry—”

“We need maps of Belgium,” I said, rudely cutting him off. “The Ardennes forest.”

“Ah, the Ardennes, fascinating area. Caesar called it ‘a place full of terrors.' And of course some believe it was the inspiration for Shakespeare's Forest of Arden—”

“Yes, fascinating,” I said, cutting him off again. “Perhaps I'll write a paper on it one day—if the world isn't bloody blown to bits by the time you give me the bloody map!”

Poor Mr. Farnsworth blinked at me as if I'd gone mad. Daisy came up beside me and put her hand on my arm. “I apologize for Ava,” she said, “but we are rather in a hurry. Do you have a map of the Ardennes?”

“No apologies necessary,” Mr. Farnsworth said. “I happen to have one right here.” He riffled through the stack of documents that lay helter skelter over the table. “It
was
right here . . .
ah! No, that's the Black Forest . . . hm, that's the Forest of Broceliande . . . ah, here it is!”

I nearly ripped the sheet from his hands. It was an ancient piece of parchment with an ink map lettered in antique script with fanciful sketches of castles, stags, and dragons. “Don't you have anything more recent?” I asked, staring at the faded lines of rivers.

“This was drawn by a knight of the Order in the thirteenth century,” Mr. Farnsworth replied, drawing himself up indignantly. I think he was more offended that I thought a modern map was preferable to one of his archival discoveries than by my earlier rude behavior. “I think you'll find it most reliable.”

I sighed and sat down in a chair that Daisy had brought for me and repositioned the map to catch the light from the skylight. At first glance
all
the rivers looked as winding as the one I'd seen in the tapestry. There was one called the Aisne, and one called the Meuse, and one . . .

“Here's the Semois. And this castle here looks like the one in the tapestry.”

“Ah, that's Bouillon. It once belonged to the Order but it was abandoned in the fifteenth century because it was deemed too dangerous to hold.”

“Too dangerous!” Mr. Bellows exclaimed. “The Order abandoned an outpost because it was too dangerous?”

Mr. Farnsworth looked embarrassed, as if he'd personally given the order to retreat. “The woods of the Ardennes were home to a particularly fierce breed of man-eating giants.”

“You mean cannibals?” Collie asked with boyish disdain. “Cannibal giants?”

“Yes. It was considered prudent to beat a tactical retreat.”

“This bend in the river here”—I pointed at the parchment— “that's nearly cut off from the land. What's it called?”

“
Le tombeau du Géant,”
Mr. Farnsworth replied. “The tomb of the giant.”

“I saw that on my holiday,” Mr. Bellows said. “It's a steep hill cut off by the bend in the river so that it looks like an island. The locals say it's a fairy hill. I rather thought it looked like an Iron Age tumulus.”

“Some of which
were
fairy hills,” Mr. Farnsworth added.

“Perhaps the giants were protecting the third vessel,” I said. “The
last
vessel. Nathan is on his way there now—”

“Nathan's taken a little detour.” The voice came from overhead. A Darkling stood on the edge of the skylight, silhouetted against the sky. It could have been Aderyn from my vision, but when he spoke again I knew it wasn't. “We still have time.”

“Raven!” I cried.

He dropped through the skylight and landed right in front of me, his wings spread out over his head like a cloak. I heard Collie and Jinks gasp and Bottom cry, “Blimey, that's a big 'un!”