The Search for the Red Dragon - James A. Owen [7]
“My apologies,” said Jack with a deferential bow.
“’S okay,” Laura Glue said. “Longbeards never ask.”
“I would not have been able to tell,” said Charles. “From a distance they looked like they were quite real.”
“Uncle Daedalus makes ’em for all the Lost Boys,” the girl said proudly, “but ol’ Laura Glue’s the only one what can fly with ’em. This far, anyways.”
“Uncle Daedalus?” John exclaimed. “You don’t mean to tell me these wings were made by the Greek Daedalus of myth? The one who lost his son Icarus when the boy flew too close to the sun?”
“What, are you daft?” said Laura Glue. “He’d have to be a thousand years old.”
“Exactly,” Charles agreed.
“You’re thinkin’ of Daedalus the Elder,” explained Laura Glue. “The one what built my wings is Daedalus the Younger.”
“A descendant?” John asked, teasing. “Or Icarus’s brother, perhaps?”
“Pr’cisely,” said Laura Glue. “An’ the reason he don’t use wax anymore when he makes the wings.”
“All right,” stated John. “So where were you flying to? Or do you mean to tell us that you planned to crash in Jack’s garden?”
“Planned to crash, no,” said the girl, “but this is where I’m supposed to be. I’m looking for the Caretaker. I got an important message from th’ Archipelago.”
John, Jack, and Charles exchanged terse looks with one another at the mention of the title. It could apply to any or all of them, but it most likely meant John. Warnie, of course, had no idea what she meant.
“I told you,” he repeated, “this is a private garden. There is no caretaker.”
“I’m not looking for a gardener,” the girl retorted. “I’m looking for the Caretaker of the Imaginarium Geographica.”
She rummaged around in her tunic and drew out a delicate flower that seemed to be made of parchment, on which three symbols had been carefully rendered. The flower also seemed to be glowing faintly.
John recognized the first symbol as the seal of the Cartographer of Lost Places—the man who had created the Imaginarium Geographica. The second was the seal of the High King of the Archipelago. “What’s this third mark?” he asked.
“That’s what makes it work,” replied Laura Glue. “This is a Compass Rose. The seal of the king gets it through the frontier, the seal of the Cartographer tells it where everything is, and the third mark is what lets you find what you’re looking for. In this case, the Caretaker. The closer I gets, the more it glows. And when I flew over your cottage, it went so bright it blinded me, and I crashed in your bluebells.
“So,” she continued, marching around them with a determined look on her face, “where are you hiding him, anyway?”
“Look here, Jack,” Warnie began.
“Perhaps you should go in and put a pot on to boil,” Jack suggested. “She’s obviously a troubled young girl, but I think we can sort it out.”
Warnie nodded and headed for the cottage at a trot without looking back.
John knelt before the girl and noticed that the Rose was still glowing but got no brighter because of his proximity.
“I’m the Caretaker Principia, Laura Glue,” he said gently. “Now can you tell us what this is all about?”
Her reaction wasn’t what John expected. The girl’s eyes grew wide with surprise, then narrowed in suspicion.
“You’re not the Caretaker!” she exclaimed. “Where is he and what have you done with him? Tell me now, or I shall be very, very cross.”
“But your Compass Rose is glowing,” said John. “And I have the Geographica nearby. I am the Caretaker. Why would you think I’m not?”
“Because,” answered Laura Glue, who had taken a defensive, defiant stance, “he called you John, and I know the real Caretaker’s name is Jamie.”
“Jamie?” Charles exclaimed, turning to the others. “It’s no wonder she doesn’t know any of us. She’s looking for the last Caretaker—the one John replaced.
“She’s looking for Sir James Barrie.”
The small, slight man was barely five feet tall…
CHAPTER TWO
The Reluctant Caretaker
Inside the cottage, it became evident to Warnie that there was something happening among Jack, John, and Charles that didn’t include him. So once he had served them all tea, he made the excuses a