The Invisible Tower (22 page)

Without speaking, the cab driver swiveled exactly ninety degrees.

“Light the way!” Artie commanded Excalibur.

No sooner had Lance turned than a narrow tunnel opened in his field of vision. Lance didn't pretend to understand it, but at the end of the tunnel was the least menacing thing he could imagine: a green clump of thick moss.

“Fire!” Artie shouted.

Lance did. The arrow sprang from the string with a vibrant twang.

Lance strung another arrow but the wake of his first shot drew the blackness in front of him once more.

Artie had marked the Mossman's head to receive Lance's volley, but the Mossman was quick. It may have been a sixth sense or just luck, but for whatever reason, as Lance let the string slip from his fingertips, the Mossman stood, and instead of impaling his head, the arrow struck him with a sickening thump just above his hip. It passed through him and clanged off something hard in Qwon's bathroom before clattering to the floor.

The Mossman screamed in pain. Its scream sounded familiar to Artie, but in the heat of everything he couldn't place it.

The Mossman had thrown something small on the floor and a gate began to open. It wasn't like Artie's moongate—this gate arced open like one of those purple-and-pink electrical plasma lamps at a science fair. The Mossman dragged Qwon through it, and in an instant they were gone.

The charged air smelled like a lightning strike. Artie fell to his knees.

Excalibur drew the darkness from the room. Light from the late-summer Pennsylvania evening poured through Qwon's windows. The birds outside her house were whipped into a frenzy and wouldn't shut up.

Lance exhaled. “I didn't miss, did I?”

“No,” Artie sighed. “It moved at the last minute, though.”

Lance stood, walked to Artie, and put a hand on his shoulder. “I'm sorry, Artie.”

Artie turned to his friend with steely eyes. “I will save her, Lance. I don't care how long it takes, I most definitely will save her.”

Artie and Lance went to
Mrs. Onakea, who was still out cold on the landing.

“What're we going to do with her?” Lance asked.

“I don't know. I guess we should take her to Merlin,” Artie said icily.

“Right,” Lance said, cluing in on Artie's mood. They stood over Mrs. Onakea while Artie thought.

Then the doorbell rang. Lance trotted downstairs and looked through the peephole. “It's Kynder,” he yelled. He opened the door.

Kynder and Lance came back upstairs and Artie explained what had happened as Kynder knelt next to Mrs. Onakea and stroked her forehead.

When Artie was finished, Kynder asked, “Can you transport all of us back home, Artie, to the stone in your room?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Pammy—Mrs. Onakea—needs to come with us. I'll take care of her. I don't think it would be a very good idea to carry her to Lance's car like this.”

“Agreed,” Lance said.

Kynder looked at his boy and said, “While I'm tending to Pammy, you and Kay have got to get back there and find Qwon. I don't think I'll be able to calm Pammy down until you do.”

Artie nodded resolutely, drove Excalibur into the floor, and said, “
Lunae lumen
.” The moongate opened. In a matter of seconds they were in Artie's room, most of them falling off his bed.

“Ow!” Lance said, knocking his shoulder hard on the bedside table. Kynder and Artie fell without hurting themselves. Mrs. Onakea was sprawled comfortably on the mattress, Excalibur driven through the bed by her hip.

Artie sheathed the sword while Kynder picked up Mrs. Onakea and took her downstairs. Artie and Lance remained in his room.

“What now?” Lance asked.

Artie shook his head. “I gotta get back to the Otherworld and go right to Numinae. The sooner I find him, the sooner I find Qwon.”

“And the sooner you spring Merlin,” Lance said.

“Yes, and the sooner I spring Merlin,” Artie repeated, suddenly not so concerned with the wizard. Artie began to pace. “I just don't know where to start, Lance. We tried to get a map, but that didn't work. I don't even know if it would've helped, anyway. What was it Bercilak said? Something about the Fountain of Sylvan? Man, I wish Tom were here.”

“Bercilak—he's the green one, right?”

“Yeah. He's a good guy but he's super weird.”

“You first saw this dude in the video game?”

“Yeah. He showed me where to find the lake that had the lady in it,” Artie said, flicking the grip of Excalibur. “What would you do, Lance?”

“I guess I'd start at the beginning and retrace my steps.”

“Man, that would take a week at least. I don't see how that'll help Qwon.”

“Couldn't hurt to try. Think … where did this all start?”

“Cincinnati?”

“Naw, Artie. Right here, in your own house, right down—”

“The video game!” Artie exclaimed. “That's it. You're a genius, Lance, an absolute genius!”

Artie burst from the room and flew down both sets of stairs. He tumbled into the game room and fell to his knees before the controller. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV. It warmed up and its image glowed to life.

The game was still paused where Artie had left it. Thank goodness Kynder had the good sense to leave it alone. There was Nitwit the Gray, standing over the felled corpse of an ice bear outside the cave of the vanquished dragon Caladirth. What memories. Artie could hardly believe how happy he'd been to have finally beaten that huge, vile, virtual dragon. Now it seemed like the emptiest accomplishment he'd ever managed to, well, accomplish.

Artie pressed a few buttons and brought up a screen that displayed Nitwit's items. Between
Malodorous Mace
and
Mithril Mail
was the simple, single word he was looking for:
Map
. He pushed X and it popped open.

The screen filled with computerized brown parchment. A red blip indicating Nitwit's current position was dead center. Artie zoomed out, selected the continent of Sylvan, and zoomed back in. It was hard to fathom, but after staring at it for a few moments, Artie began to recognize some things. There was Veltdam and the Great Library! There was the Lake ! There was the forest they'd traveled through for nearly a week! It wasn't quite right, though—the library, for example, was on a bluff overlooking the sea, and towering mountains surrounded the Lake—so it wouldn't have been any good for getting around or locating the Font. Still, it shared features with things that were real, so it couldn't be totally useless, right?

Artie studied the map, looking for a fountain or anything that had to do with water. Coursing from place to place on their way to the sea were various streams and rivers. By the time the freshwater of Sylvan met the saltwater of the sea it had collected into three main arteries: in the north the River Gully, in the south the River Smake, and running across the middle the Glimmer Stream. Artie recalled Bedevere mentioning the Glimmer Stream just before they'd gotten to Veltdam, so he knew that it was real. He figured the other rivers were probably real, too.

But where was this fountain? In the woods? In front of a castle? In some town? What exactly was it that Bercilak had said?

He decided that he'd just have to ask him.

Artie slipped the VR goggles over his head. He adjusted the microphone and spoke into it.

“Bercilak! Bercilak the Green! King Artie Kingfisher here; I need your help!”

Nothing happened.

He said, “
Please
, Bercy! I don't know what else to do. Kay is injured, we couldn't get a map, Qwon's been taken, Bedevere got an arm blown off by this wicked, geeky elf—I need your help!”

Still nothing.

Artie whimpered, “Please. It's nothing you haven't already told me. I just need to remember what you said and I can't. I need to find your lord Numinae. I think—well, I'm beginning to think he might be working with Morgaine—”

A burst of light blotted out the map. When it fizzled, the green knight stood before Nitwit the Gray on the road where Artie had first met Bercilak. Even the welcome sign was still there.

But Greenie didn't look at all welcoming. He stood across from Nitwit brandishing his gigantic battle-ax with both hands, and he scolded Artie with his hollow voice booming throughout his empty suit of armor: “Do not say such things about my lord! You may be the young king of the land, but never would such an alliance come to pass!”

At this stage in his adventure Artie was getting used to being threatened, so he reflexively dropped the Xbox controller and drew Excalibur in the real world, down in his basement game room.

And something remarkable happened.

Nitwit the Gray drew Excalibur too.

Bercilak recoiled. “Where did that come from? Is Wilt Chamberlain with you?”

Artie simply answered, “No.” He looked at the sword in his character's hands. There was no denying that the sword was the same in both places. When Artie moved it in his basement, it made the same movement in the game. It was like he'd been given the world's coolest and baddest Wii controller, and it happened to work on Xbox.

Awesome.

“You can see Excalibur, Bercy?”

Bercilak innocently said, “Yes. I can see the feeble projection of your character, as before, but what I see in your projection's hands is a real sword, young regent.”

Artie thought this was very cool, and wished he could just do the rest of his quest from the comfort—not to mention safety—of his own home.

But these thoughts left his mind in a flash, because Artie didn't like Bercilak's use of the word
regent
. Artie had spent too much time in the fantasy worlds of video games, the internet, comics, books, and movies not to know what that meant: a placeholder for a king.

Artie shouted, “Regent!
Regent?
Bercilak the Green, I've been through too much to be called a regent. I may not be official yet, but I
will be
king! Please, help me find your lord! I command you now to repeat the last thing you told me in my court-in-exile!”

Bercilak reacted the way Artie had hoped. He bent his empty head toward the ground. “Please forgive me, Arthur, I am out of practice. We have not had a king for so long. I am most aggrieved at my choice of words.”

Artie relaxed. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. I forgive you.”

“Really, sire, I am most—”

“It's okay, Bercilak, really. I'm sorry if I overdid it. Please get up.” The green knight stood cautiously. “Now can you remind me what you said? My mind is scrambled. I can barely remember where I was twenty-four hours ago.”

“Of course. I believe I said, ‘I can say no more.'”

“Not that, airhead! The important thing. Something about Tiberius's cave being near some fountain.”

“Ah, that! Not a fountain, sire, the Font! The Font of Sylvan.”

“What does that mean? Isn't a font, like, a computer typeface or something?”

“I am certain, sire, that I've no idea what a ‘computer typeface' is, but I can say surely that the Font I speak of is not one of these.”

“Well, what is it then?”

“I am sorry, sire, but I can say no more.”

Great.

Artie sighed. “Okay. Thank you, Bercilak. I guess I'll just have to look it up on the web.”

“The web? What web? Surely, sire, you have some strange things over there.”

“The internet? That's the web.”

“Ah yes, of course, the internet. I remember you corrected me on that point before.” Bercilak had turned totally casual, and seemed prepared to hang out and shoot the breeze.

Artie rolled his eyes. “Okay, Bercy, I have to go now.”

“Of course, farewell! I really am sorry, sire!”

The green knight disappeared, and so did the road. The map filled the screen once more.

Artie had to get online.

He sheathed Excalibur, tossed off the VR goggles, and ran upstairs to the family computer. He woke it up and Googled “font.” Of course everything that came up had to do with typefaces and web design. He changed the search to “font definition,” and found this:

font

n
.

1. A basin for holding baptismal water in a church
.

2. A receptacle for holy water; a stoup
.

3. The oil reservoir in an oil-burning lamp
.

4. An abundant source; a fount
.

Farther down another definition read:

3. Archaic or poetic: a fountain or well
.

Since Bercilak was definitely archaic, and Artie thought he probably also liked poetry, this was the one that stuck, along with the “abundant source” one from the first definition.

So Artie figured that the Font had to be the main source of water on the continent of Sylvan. Since according to Bedevere the Glimmer Stream was the biggest river, Artie guessed that the Font would be its original source.

How the heck was he going to find that?

He sat in front of the computer for a few minutes, lightly tapping but not pressing the buttons of the keyboard. So many things to be confused about, so little time. Was this what it meant to be a king?

Artie leaned back in the chair and absently laid his hand on Excalibur's grip.

He hadn't realized it, but his sword had been screaming at him.

And what it was screaming was,
A divining rod am I! I will find the source of water! A divining rod am I! I will find the source of water!

Of course! How stupid of him!

Artie flew back to the game room. He hastily put on the goggles and looked at the map. He drew Excalibur and held it in front of him, pointing directly at the heart of Sylvan, and commanded, “Excalibur, show me the Glimmer's source!”

Without hesitation the sword plunged forward into the virtual map, dragging Artie through the room. Unfortunately the sword went right into the TV too, and did a major number on it. Sparks flew, and Artie felt the electricity surging through him, doing him no harm on account of his sword's miraculous scabbard. The TV was ruined, but it didn't matter. Inside the goggles Excalibur pulsated with its white glow. Its tip pushed into the virtual parchment, pinpointing a spot in Sylvan's darkest forest. It marked a speck of blue, and from this wandered a hairline rill of water bearing the name Glimmer Stream that eventually emerged from the vast woodland.