The Indigo King - James A. Owen [90]
On the stone, almost completely faded with age, were markings in ancient Greek.
“Arthur showed this to me when I first got here,” Hank explained. “A man called Brutus created the passageway centuries ago, modeled after one he’d used to escape the siege of Troy. There are several more scattered around Albion.”
The companions all shuddered involuntarily on hearing the name. “Britain, if you please,” Jack said, looking around the stone. “Where is the passageway?”
Hank gave the massive boulder a shove, and they heard a mechanism underneath grind into action. The stone levered over on its side, revealing a long-unused set of stone steps that spiraled down into darkness.
“I think it leads to a spot right in the center of the castle, and there are oil lamps throughout,” said Hank. “Anyone got a match?”
Lamps blazing, the companions moved quickly through the narrow underground passage. Hugo led the way, having renewed his courage since seeing a familiar face—even if the engineer didn’t recognize him in turn. Hank followed behind him, then Chaz, with John and Jack in the rear, making sure they were not being followed.
Suddenly Hugo stopped. There was something partially blocking the narrow passageway. It was a bird, an immense owl, which lay unmoving on the flat stones.
“Archimedes,” Chaz breathed, pushing past the others. He knelt down and pressed his ear to the bird’s chest. “He’s functioning, but barely. I think there might be something in the Little Whatsit I can use to fix him up.”
“We don’t have time for a stupid bird,” Hank hissed. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not leaving him behind,” said Chaz, dumping a few other items out of his pack. “I’m taking him with me.”
“Your business, not mine,” Hank retorted, turning around. “Come on. We’re almost there.”
“Do you believe,” John whispered to Jack as they watched Chaz gently wrap the damaged owl and put it into his bag, “that this is the same fellow who wanted us to give him Uncas to eat?”
“Miracles never cease,” said Jack. “Look—the passageway is sloping upward to more steps.”
The passageway leveled out, then pitched steeply upward, ending at a stone ceiling. “Stand aside,” Hank instructed the others, taking up the bat. He got a solid grip on it, then swung it up into the stones.
They shivered, and a light rain of dust fell. Hank adjusted his grip and swung again, then again, and with a sharp crack, the stones broke apart and crumbled down onto the steps. Above them, they could see a stone covering that was slightly ajar, so light could come down into the tunnel. And they could hear voices; harsh, almost shouting.
“You think I don’t know?” one was saying. “Don’t you think I knew all along what I had lost?”
“I can’t let you do it,” another voice pleaded. “I can’t let you kill him.”
“You must.”
“I can’t!”
“That’s Mordred,” said John urgently. “And Arthur! We have to get up there, now!”
Pushing together, Hank, John, and Jack hefted the large stone off the entrance and shoved it aside. They climbed out to an astonishing realization: The stone had been covering the crypt of the old king, Camaalis. The tunnel led to the very spot where Caliburn had lain for centuries until Arthur claimed it.
A short distance away, in the center of the castle walls, Arthur and Mordred were facing each other across the ancient stone table. They had ignored the clamor of the falling stones in the passageway, but ceased arguing when they realized that they had an audience.
Arthur was bewildered at first—he hadn’t seen the companions long enough to immediately recall them after three decades. But Mordred recognized them instantly.
“I don’t know why you’re here,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “but you have followed my brother and me across the centuries, always appearing at these pivotal points in our histories. It’s only right that you are here to witness this now.”
Arthur, older and bearded but still bearing the youth and noble countenance of the boy they remembered, spun back to his uncle. “I can’t allow it, Mordred.”
Mordred raised his spear—the one he had taken from