The Search for the Red Dragon - James A. Owen [112]
“Read it!” John instructed Stephen, thrusting the Imaginarium Geographica at him. “Read it!”
Stephen nodded and knelt, bending protectively over the book.
By right and rule
For need of might
I call on thee
I call on thee
By blood bound
By honor given
I call on thee
I call on thee
For life and light your protection given
From within this ring by the power of Heaven
I call on thee
I call on thee
As he finished, the last of the giant bronze automatons moved into place. They were surrounded.
The bronze giants were all that was necessary to turn the frightened children into obedient, subdued drones once more.
Children know when the threat of violence is real and cannot be defied. And so when William and Hugh began to herd them onto the ships, it was in silence and order.
Daedalus had ordered the adults, both Caretakers and Croatoans, to kneel in the sand.
“It was an excellent effort,” Daedalus said, “but ultimately futile.” He turned to Aven. “Don’t worry. None of the children will be harmed. Whatever you may think of me, I’m not without feeling.”
“What will you do with them?” asked Charles.
“Those who choose to return to our Crusade will come on the ships,” said the Piper’s shadow. “The rest will be returned to the Minotaur’s care on Aiaia.”
“Imprisoned in the labyrinth, you mean!” Charles said.
“It’s better than death,” said Daedalus, “as I’m afraid you’re about to learn.”
“What are you waiting for?” Burton whispered to John. “Don’t bother denying it—you, the wench, and the old man are all watching the skies. What are you expecting to happen?”
“I don’t know,” John replied. “A miracle, perhaps.”
“Well, I’m not going to simply die kneeling in the sand,” said Burton. “And neither will the Croatoans. But…” He hesitated. “If you do have some miracle planned, will you do what you can to save my daughter as well? Please?”
John drew back and looked at the leader of the Indians. His face was open, sincere. He had made a request but had also meant it as an apology.
“Of course,” John finally said. “If it is in my power to do so, I’ll save your girl.”
“Thank you,” said Burton.
“What in Hades is that?” the Piper’s shadow exclaimed.
John and the others looked to the sky. The dark clouds continued to roll and churn, but there, to the west, something else was approaching.
“The dragons?” exclaimed Bert. “Is it, John? Did the summoning work, after all?”
But it wasn’t the dragons moving beyond the clouds. It was something much, much bigger.
Jack had found Peter Pan, the man who had summoned them to the Archipelago, and he carried with him Peter’s shadow, which had guided him to the last island in the Underneath, and all of this had been done under terrible circumstances and against impossible odds. But there was one more obstacle Jack could not seem to overcome.
He could not enter the cave.
A peal of laughter sounded from somewhere behind Peter, and Jack could just make out the image of a beautiful woman in an ornate mirror that hung on the cave wall.
“He doesn’t know, Peter,” she said. “He doesn’t realize what he has to give up to come in.”
“He is a Caretaker of the Imaginarium Geographica,” said Peter. “I’m sure he understands sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?” Jack said, taking a step back. “What do I have to sacrifice? Why can’t I enter the cave?”
“This is the center of the Underneath,” said Peter. “One of the oldest islands that exist. And nothing can come into the cave that isn’t real.”
“I don’t understand,” said Jack. “What isn’t real?”
“Tell me,” said Peter. “Who are you? Who are you really, Jack?”
“How did you know my name?”
“We’ve met before,” Peter told him, “which is how I know this isn’t really you. Now tell me,” he said again, “who…are…you?”
“I—I’m just Jack.”
“No,” said Peter, “you aren’t. You can’t be, if we’re to save your friends.”
“I know what you’re asking of me,” Jack said dully. “It—it’s just difficult to give it up.”
“I know,” said Peter. “Perhaps better than anyone. But you can’t stay a child forever. To choose to speak into Echo’s Well is to choose illusion. To choose