The Indigo King - James A. Owen [120]
“… almost.”
“You wanted Mordred to win!” John said incredulously. “Why, Burton?”
“You’ve been through the Histories,” he shot back. “You know what Myrddyn became, who he really is. He’s the one who set the path for all the Caretakers. Can you really tell me that is a man you would risk your lives for?”
“Yes,” John said evenly. “I can.”
“If you’d wanted to convince us the Cartographer was evil,” said Jack, “you shouldn’t have tried stealing the Grail book. It was one of your people who tore out the pages, wasn’t it?”
Burton actually reddened. “Yes, well, some members of the society are being disciplined for that. When they tried to retrieve it, Monmouth surprised them, and one of them dropped it, tearing the pages. He could only bring back that part he’d torn. The fool.”
“Harry,” said Bert. “You must mean Harry Houdini. He always was a butterfingers. Good for locks, not for espionage.”
“Was he the one who put the door in the wood?” asked John.
“He and Conan Doyle,” said Burton. “We hoped you’d go through and see what was taking place at Camelot—that Mordred had become a villain only because Arthur and Merlin made him so. We didn’t anticipate that you would be foolish enough to close the door. How did you get back, anyway?”
“That’s a Caretaker secret,” Jack replied, knowing the answer, believed or not, would make Burton seethe.
“If you just wanted to make Mordred’s case,” said John, “why did you need a door from the Keep?”
“To put you in the position to see for yourselves,” explained Burton. “So you could see who Mordred and Merlin really were, and which was more noble.”
“You didn’t benefit,” John stated flatly. “All that effort, and nothing came of it.”
Burton tipped back the second ale and drained the glass in a swallow. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “We learned from our mistakes. And we may have found something that I once thought was lost. And it was in our hands the entire time.”
“And you nearly caused the destruction of the world!” Hugo exclaimed. “Why, the Winterland that Mordred created—”
“Hugo, please,” Jack said, squeezing his shoulders sharply. Hugo realized too late what he’d revealed—Burton had no idea what had been caused by the changes in time, because the Caretakers had managed to repair most of the damage.
Burton smiled. “I think I understand,” he said, rising. “And now it’s time I take my leave of you. This has been entertaining, but as usual, you Caretakers ask all the wrong questions.”
“How can the questions be wrong?” asked Charles.
“You focus entirely on the past, on filling in the holes in events that have already happened,” Burton answered. “You are obsessed with what was and miss entirely what is. And that is why we shall control the future.”
“What questions?” Charles insisted. “What haven’t we asked?”
“All right,” Burton said. “Since it is just the six of us in here, all men of learning, I’ll give you a lesson you haven’t earned.
“You ask why the door was in the wood—but not how we got it, or if there are others like it. You ask why we might want to convert Charles to our cause, without asking what our intentions are in doing so. And you have traveled in time and made choices based on what you experienced in the past—while ignoring the most important revelation of all …
“… that time moves in two directions.”
Burton took his hat and coat from the rack and bowed. “Farewell, Caretakers,” he said, smiling. “Settle my bill, will you?” And with that, he walked out of the tavern and vanished.
“I wasn’t pleased to see him,” said John, “but at least we know. We know why this happened.”
“Was that really Richard Burton?” asked Hugo. “He’s charming, but he smells.”
Bert scratched his head. “There was something else,” he mused. “Something very, very interesting. I don’t think he was able to even see Rose. Not at all.”
“What would that mean?” said Jack. “How could he not see her?”
“It could be her unique bloodlines, or perhaps the fact she might be from an alternate dimension,” said Bert. “At any