Walter nodded. “Sure, Prof. I get it.”
Billy kept his eyes focused on his mother who was standing by a large oak tree up ahead, waiting for them to catch up. “Yeah, I think so.”
The three continued down a dirt path, quick-marching through the forest. The professor’s warning blistered Billy’s mind. No surprise attacks. He twisted his neck to eye Excalibur’s blade. He held in his hands the ultimate weapon, one that could vanquish the dragon slayers and rescue Bonnie. He understood the poem well enough to know that Bonnie was in trouble—something about Satan’s minions and the gates of hell. But what could he do? He had practiced long and hard, and he felt the urge to zoom to Montana and do a little transluminating on Devin’s cronies, or at least whack their ugly heads off. Was he brave enough to do it face-to-face?
The feel of his fingers wrapping around the sword’s hilt brought courage, but something was wrong. The blade’s surface held all the strange etchings he had expected, and it was as heavy as a bundle of crowbars, but it lacked luster; in fact, it was dull. Shouldn’t it be glowing? That’s what all the stories said, and it shot out a beam when Bonnie held it. Sure, I pulled it right out of the stone. That was cool. But why isn’t it working now?
He tried slipping off his gloves again and holding it with his bare hands, but that didn’t change anything. Had anyone else noticed? Billy wished he had a scabbard so he could sheathe the sword and hide its apparent impotence. As he hiked onward, the sword’s weight pressed on his shoulder, pinching his skin even through his jacket. If the sword was such a burden when carried like this, how could he possibly wield it in battle? He couldn’t make it glow; he could barely even hold it up! He boosted the blade higher on his shoulder and kept moving, listening to the leaves crunching under their hurried steps. He couldn’t help but feel they were all rushing headlong toward a whirlpool, and he didn’t even have a paddle.
Bonnie sat on one of the swivel chairs. Her father stooped and placed a gentle hand on her knee. “This is all very difficult to explain,” he said softly, “so I want you to pay close attention.”
He licked his lips and blinked before clearing his throat to continue. “You may not have guessed what happened to Devin. Excalibur transformed him into light energy, and the candlestone absorbed his fractured particles into itself. Devin’s cohort, Palin, saw your battle from a distance but couldn’t get there in time to help. After you threw away the stone, he knew he couldn’t battle both you and a dragon without it. Even though you flew away, Clefspeare was recovering, so Palin waited for him to leave. He searched for hours but never found Excalibur. He wondered later if you flew away with it, but I told him it was much too heavy. You’d never be able to fly with that much weight.
“Anyway, he found the stone and he brought it to me, thinking I could help him resurrect Devin and reconstitute him. He knew Devin and I had worked together, studying dragons and their ability to use light energy to extend their lives. I was the only person who might be able to help.
“You see, back then we had Excalibur in our possession and learned quite a bit about how it works. When Devin took off on one of his rabid dragon hunts, I insisted on keeping the sword with me, because our analysis of its power wasn’t finished, but I promised to send it to him if he needed it. Later, he convinced me that he could capture a dragon for our research if he only had his sword, so that’s how it came back into his hands. Apparently it’s lost forever.”
Bonnie didn’t know exactly where the sword was, but she had a good idea of the area where she dropped it. Since she didn’t trust her father, she decided it was best to keep quiet, at least for now.
He gestured for her to stay put and stepped toward the wall. With a flick of his wrist, he spun a dial a couple of times and opened the door to a safe. He pulled out a lockbox, sliding the small metal case with great care, and brought it to Bonnie. He opened the lid a crack, and Bonnie stood up and peeked inside.
The candlestone! Even with this minute exposure, it seemed that a darkening cloud enshrouded the box, the loss of light starting at the edge of the lid. Bonnie felt a small dose of the same queasiness she experienced on the mountain when the slayer first showed her the stone, the bane of every living dragon.
Her father snapped the box shut. “Palin’s claim that the stone had captured Devin intrigued me, so I told Palin I would look into it, but, of course, I had no intention of bringing that monster Devin back to physical form. I wanted to create a test to see if he was somehow really within those crystal walls. That’s where Ashley came in. In our efforts to mimic a dragon’s ability to capture light energy, she had already helped me build miniature synthetic photoreceptors that could attach to human tissue, so, with her knowledge of physics and physiology, I thought she could come up with a way to figure out what’s going on in there.”
Bonnie’s father motioned toward Ashley’s equipment. “When you see how all of this works, you’ll be amazed.”
Bonnie pointed at the box. “So is he in there? Inside the candlestone?”
“Yes, and he’s fully alive.”
“So what does that have to do with Mama and me?”
He stepped back toward the safe. “When Palin brought the candlestone to me, your mother’s health was rapidly deteriorating. I was desperately trying to bring my photoreceptor research far enough along to help her, but there wasn’t enough time.” He slapped the safe’s door shut and spun the dial. “I decided to take a drastic step. I transformed your mother into light energy and allowed the candlestone to absorb her, keeping her safe for the time being, hoping that some day I could restore her when my research provided a way to keep her from dying.”
Bonnie’s throat caught, and she swallowed hard. “And now you’ve found a way?”
He nodded. “Indeed I have.”
The words shot through her brain like machine-gun fire. It was just too much to take in. My mother’s in a wall safe? That’s impossible! Yet this lab and all its equipment lay before her, all the futuristic machines that made a Star Trek studio look like a toddler’s collection of Lego models. And there was the candlestone, definitely the same gem that sucked the slayer into its grasp like a light-slurping straw. Her father couldn’t possibly have gone through all this trouble just to trick her. “What do I have to do? How will you bring Mama back? How did you transform her in the first place?”
Her father pointed toward a dark corner. “Ashley’s coming back. I’ll have her explain everything else to you. She’ll take you to the girls’ dorm so you can get ready.”
“The girls’ dorm?” Bonnie surveyed the vast chamber. “Are there other girls here?”
“Yes, there are a few others. Ashley will introduce you and answer any questions you have.”
Ashley walked slowly up to them, her head drooping. “Something’s wrong with Daddy.” She lifted her eyes, tension outlined in tight lines on her forehead. “He says he’s fatigued and dizzy. He looked kind of green, so I put him to bed.”
“Probably just a virus.” Bonnie’s father gave her a gentle push toward Ashley. “Why don’t you introduce Bonnie to the girls, and I’ll go check on him.”
Ashley nodded, her brow still furrowed. She smiled at Bonnie, but her lips quivered. “Did he tell you where your mother is?”
“Yes, but it sounds too crazy to be true.”
Ashley guided her toward a door at the opposite side of the chamber. “Crazy is right, but we’ll get it all sorted out for you. For now, let’s get you measured and settled in, and you can meet your dorm mates. They’re quite an unusual crew, but you’re pretty unusual yourself, so prepare for some gawking.”
CHAPTER 7
SPEAKING TO THE DEAD
With no firefly light to guide him this time, Dr. Conner inched his way through the blackness, his right arm extended as he groped for the inner gate. Finding the iron bars, he ran his fingers across several of them in search of the latch. After fumbling with his keys, he pecked at the metal door with one, missing the keyhole a few
times before finally unlocking the deadbolt.
The air felt wetter than usual. A musty odor filled the cavern, and the damp, oily bars slipped in his hands as he pushed the gate to the left. The metal frame squealed through its top and bottom runners, echoing in tiny chaotic squeaks, like a swarm of bats awakened to go on their nightly rounds.
He paused, listening. Unnatural breathing, labored and intimidating, drifted through the darkness. Within seconds, a gruff voice replaced the low rasps.
“Is she here?”
Dr. Conner trembled and cleared his throat, trying not to sound mousy. “Bonnie has come. As you predicted.” He walked through the gate and into a cave, his shoes tapping on the stone floor.
The deep voice spoke again. “And is she going to do it?”
“We’re preparing her.” Dr. Conner stepped farther into the cave and stared into the black void. “But she doesn’t know yet what’s involved. If she’s unwilling, I’ll have to take drastic steps.”
A loud, rumbling sigh filtered through the darkness. “She is willing. She will give you no trouble.”
Dr. Conner edged closer. “What if I told her that she may not survive?”
“I don’t think she would give it a second thought. Apparently you have not yet understood what drives her.”
Dr. Conner squeezed his keys in his fist, feeling them bite into his skin. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before. ‘I don’t know what love is, so I’ll never understand Bonnie.’” He felt a pebble under his shoe and kicked it away, listening to its tumbling clicks die out in the depths of the cave. “Well, it might be very interesting to put her to the test. Self-preservation instincts are stronger than love. That’s why I have my doubts.”
“No!” the voice roared. “That’s why you’re a fool.” The final word bounced off the walls—“fool, fool, fool”—denouncing Dr. Conner like a wraith from a haunting nightmare. The voice paused until the last echo faded, then continued slowly. “Irene’s daughter understands love. Her mother’s life is more important to her than her own, though she has no idea that Irene is no more. Perhaps by watching her, you will learn what motivates your enemies.”
“I didn’t come here to be lectured.” Dr. Conner released his grip on his keys and let them dangle from his finger. “My firefly colony is dead, so you’ll get nothing but candles until summer comes. Remember, you’re still alive because I find you useful, so you should show me a little more respect. You know my real reason for bringing Bonnie here, and it wasn’t to rescue you.”
The voice growled. “Perhaps not, you simplistic fool. But don’t be surprised if your plans fail. Love may turn on you and set all of your captives free.”
Dr. Conner let out a huff, pivoted on his heel, and inched away, his arm extended. His fingers sifted through his keys until they clasped a diode light attached to the ring, and he pushed its button, sending a thin beam toward the exit. Finding the open gate, he followed the light, but it bent and scattered, as if trying to reverse its course. He released the button, killing the beam, and hustled to the exit. With the squealing of metal on metal and a final clank, he slid the gate closed and firmly set the lock.
The purring sound of a propeller filled the plane’s cabin, a whispered lullaby in Billy’s ears, but there was no time to sleep; too many puzzles remained unsolved. He turned in his copilot’s chair to huddle with Walter and Professor Hamilton. The professor, seated behind Billy with Merlin’s diary propped open on his lap, kept a bent finger on one line of text while Walter looked on from the other side of the aisle.
The failing daylight illuminated the text, and they stared at the mysterious words, reading them aloud between bites of cold meat sandwiches and crackers.
“It’s gotta be Bonnie,” Billy said. “She’s looking for her mom, and she’s going to find trouble instead.”
The professor nodded. “Agreed, William. And it appears that the candlestone is involved in the deception. ‘The candlestone conceals a trap where Satan’s minions dwell.’ What do you make of that?”
Billy shook his head and put his foot against the side of his mom’s pilot seat. “Well, if Dad was right, and Devin is inside the candlestone, then he could be Satan’s minion. And remember, Dad said Devin walked in with it around his neck after his knights got blitzed by Excalibur, so maybe there are more bad guys in there.”
The professor raised his index finger. “Therefore, the plural minions.”
“Right. But I can’t see how they could hurt Bonnie from in there.”
Billy’s mother grabbed his foot and dropped it to the cabin floor. “Well, we know the candlestone makes you and Bonnie feel weak. I guess it could be used as a weapon.”
Walter lifted a cracker to his mouth. “How could a little crystal hold someone inside? It doesn’t make any sense.”
The professor opened his sandwich and inspected the meat inside. “Walter, there are many realities in life that don’t make sense to our limited understanding; they seem warped, out of line with what we know. As truth is revealed, however, what was once absurd is able to untwist as our minds grasp what we witness. This poem, for example, seems to describe what someone has seen with his own eyes, so we shouldn’t take his witness lightly. But you are right, in one sense; we should not simply accept what seems absurd without corroboration.” He took a bite of his sandwich, waiting to swallow before he continued. “Let’s follow this logically from the beginning, step-by-step. William, do you remember how you described what happened to the slayer after Excalibur transluminated him?”
“Well, Bonnie said there was a flash of sparks, and they swirled around, like water going down a drain.” Billy made a circular motion with his forefinger to illustrate.
The professor tilted his head upward. “Yes, yes, a drain. That is the word you used, and it reminds me of something.” He flipped to the previous page in the book. “Here it is, in the prayer to summon a dragon.”
Shall I use yon candlestone
Absorbing light to steal thy fire
If I shouldst lie beneath its trone
Excalibur builds my funeral pyre
“Apparently,” the professor went on, “the one who wrote this prayer considers the candlestone as a dangerous weapon of last resort. ‘Shall I use it?’ he asks himself. We know the candlestone absorbs light, and we know Excalibur changes a person into light. So, when he says, ‘Excalibur builds my funeral pyre,’ he could mean that he’s risking getting caught in the absorption if the sword is used in combination with the stone.”
Walter swallowed his last bit of cracker and wiped his lips on his sleeve. “I don’t get it, Prof. What do you mean?”
The professor rubbed his chin for a moment and then raised a finger. “Let’s put it this way. Using Excalibur and the candlestone in combination is like battling someone in a space ship and you punch a hole in a wall to create a vacuum. Your enemies are instantly killed, but you manage to put on a space suit just in time. You’re alive but trapped forever to float in space, never able to return home.”
“But you’d run out of air,” Walter said with a sly grin. “You’d die before long.”
“Yes, Walter. I realize that. The illustration does break down, yet the parallels are there.”
“Yeah, Walter,” Billy chided. “Give him a break. He just means that the candlestone could be a safe place if you’re changed into light by Excalibur. Punching a hole is like using Excalibur, and the space suit is like the candlestone.”
“Exactly, William! Look at the poem again. The poet chose an interesting word, ‘trone.’ There are a number of meanings for the word, but the one that sparked my memory of this passage is William’s use of the word, ‘drain.’ A trone is a drain. The poet may be taking literary license, but perhaps he sees light as draining into the candlestone, and Devin at this moment is lying under it. This poem, therefore, is an eyewitness account of an event similar to what Mr. Clefspeare theorized. Devin is literally a victim of a luminescent whirlpool.”
Walter’s
eyes sparkled. “Wow! That’s like a nightmare I used to have. When I was little, I dreamed about getting sucked down the bathtub drain.” He brushed cracker crumbs from his hands and leaned back in his seat. “But what’s that got to do with Bonnie?”
Billy’s heart raced like a thoroughbred. He had an idea that seemed too awful to be true, but he had to bounce it off the others to see if it made any sense. He tried to keep his voice calm. “I think I know,” he said softly. He half-closed his eyes and laid his head back on his seat.
Walter tapped Billy on the side of his head with his knuckles. “Then let’s have it, Sherlock. What’s the deal?”
Billy’s mother chimed in. “What is it, Billy?”
“Yes, William. We are all in great anticipation.”
Billy chewed on his lower lip. Why had he spoken up? The others expected an answer, and he felt their eyes boring holes through his skull. He had no choice. “They’re going to send Bonnie into the candlestone to get Devin out.”
Walter reached over and felt Billy’s brow. “No fever.” He closed Billy’s eyes with his fingers, but Billy slapped his arm away. “Billy must be hallucinating if he thinks Bonnie’s going to try to rescue the slayer.”
The professor laughed at Walter’s antics. “You’re correct, Walter. Such an act would be counter to her character, but on the other hand, William’s theory has merit. Remember, Bonnie doesn’t know that her mother is really dead, so we can’t be sure how an unscrupulous man could manipulate her with lies. Perhaps she might be persuaded by deceit to enter the stone, or even by force or threats.”
“Maybe.” Walter chewed another cracker thoughtfully. “But we have Excalibur. How can Bonnie change into light energy without it? And even if she does, how can she bring anyone out of that thing? Won’t she and Devin still be sparks of light if they do come out? I think it would just suck them right back in again.”