The Search for the Red Dragon - James A. Owen [101]
“Which one do we choose?” asked John.
“I’m not doing this for my health, you know,” Asterius complained. “There are covenants, and there are bindings, and I’ve already extended courtesies to you regarding the discrepancies in the paperwork, but if you don’t even know how to get in…” The little creature let the words trail off into silence, as the companions looked around in despair at all the books.
“Here,” said Bert, pointing to letters engraved above the gate. “Perhaps this will give us a clue.”
“Could it be a riddle, like the one outside Samaranth’s lair?” asked Aven. “Or a magic word?”
Bert shook his head. “The monks of the abbey would have eschewed any use of magic words. A riddle is possible, though. Can you read what it says?”
“I can,” said Charles, taking the lamp from Asterius and holding it high to illuminate the lettering. “It’s Hebrew.”
He looked over the letters for a moment, lips moving silently, then turned to the others. “I think it is a riddle,” he told them, “but I don’t know what it means, because the phrase itself is no mystery at all.”
He turned back to the riddle and began to recite: “The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.”
John looked startled. “You know it?” Bert asked him.
“Yes,” John said. “It’s from the Old Testament. Isaiah, unless I miss my guess.”
“You didn’t,” said Charles, “but what does it mean?”
“All along,” mused John, “we’ve made mistakes and missteps because we were thinking like adults instead of like children. We haven’t even paid enough attention when we knew it would be important to do so.
“I think this means exactly what it says. We must be led by a little child.”
They all turned to Laura Glue, and Charles knelt in front of her. “Laura Glue,” he said gently, “our good-luck charm. Can you help us?”
“I’ll try,” she replied cautiously.
She looked at the books, then slowly began to circle the room. She passed the illuminated Bibles John would have chosen, and the incunabula that would have been Charles’s preference.
Finally she stopped and withdrew a small, battered Bible from the shelf. It was an old German Bible, and it was small enough to easily fit in her hands. A child’s Bible.
Inside was an aged slip of paper, with the outline of two tiny hands.
“Albert’s hands,” Asterius said, taking it from her and nodding. “The ghost tracings of a child long gone are still totemic and still bear power. You have found what you need.”
Nimbly Asterius folded the paper into a key and inserted it into the lock on the gate, which instantly popped open.
The companions stepped inside a dark hallway lined with doors and lifted the lantern. From the darkness beyond, they could hear children’s voices, and among them a familiar voice calling out “Olly Olly Oxen-Free.”
It was Jack.
When he heard the voices of his friends, Jack called out with joy, and it was only a few twists and turns down the corridors to the cell where he was being held.
There were happy hugs and handshakes all around, and the light of the lantern showed that not only was he unharmed for his experience, but the second shadow was intact as well.
Hurriedly Jack told them what he had learned from Abby Tornado and the others.
“Well,” said Aven, “now we know what happened to the ships in the Archipelago.”
“We aren’t going to leave the children here, are we?” said Jack.
“Of course we aren’t,” John said firmly. “They’ll be coming with us. All of them.”
“No!” Asterius protested, wringing his hands. “There’s been no paperwork to allow it! It simply can’t be permitted!”
The companions’ only answer came from Aven, who drew her long knife and pointed it at the small creature.
Asterius sighed.
“You see?” he said to Charles. “No respect.”
In moments the rest of the cell doors had been opened, and the corridors that had been black and silent were ablaze with torchlight and the joyful laughter of children.
PART SIX
The Ninth Circle