The Shadow Dragons - James A. Owen [25]
And so he waited.
Waited to discover if the so-called Prophecy might indeed come true. Waited, because if it were true, then he would once again be needed. And as often as he had done great deeds and had remarkable adventures, it was all only for the reason that someone had needed him. This, and the love of a beautiful woman, were all the motivation he needed. And so he waited, because the Frenchman had promised that someday he would be needed again.
In his half-drowsy state, he barely noted the new streamers of light in the room, and only then when a shadowy form approached his bed and leaned in closely to speak to him.
“Is it you?” he asked, eyes blinking with tears. “Is it my Dulcinea?”
“My name is Rose Dyson,” the girl said as the old man rubbed the sleep goblins from his eyes and propped himself up onto his elbows, “but Dulcinea is a beautiful name, especially with your accent.”
“Ah,” the old man demurred, “it is in the nature of old Spaniards to speak the name of their one true love as if she were the only woman on earth.”
“And how should I call you?” asked Rose.
The old man sat up straighter in his bed and adjusted his nightshirt, then preened his mustache and beard before answering.
“My name, dear girl,” he said with gravity and panache, “is Don Quixote de la Mancha. And I have been waiting for you for a very long time.”
The three Caretakers and the owl entered the room, but only John paused to examine the door. Any other door in the keep could be opened with a touch, save for the Cartographer’s door, which had been sealed by the mark of the king: the Greek letter alpha.
Next to the handle on this door was a small Greek letter pi— the mark of the Caretaker Principia. John’s mark—which he had never made.
John filed the observation away in the back of his head to be addressed later. For now, he wanted to discover the identity of the strange man who was conversing so easily with young Rose.
The man who had introduced himself to Rose as Don Quixote was now making similar introductions to Jack and Charles. Archimedes was ignoring them altogether and had instead focused on the books to one side of the great bed.
The room was almost identical in size to the one farther up where the Cartographer resided. But rather than a clutter-filled workplace, this room had been appointed for comfort. The elaborate four-poster bed was covered in goosedown quilts and draped with finely embroidered heavy silk curtains. There was a tall window with lead-lined panes of milky glass, and several beautiful oil lamps. The books were scattered about, as were the habiliments of a knight: a lance, a sword and scabbard, and authentic—if tarnished—sixteenth-century Spanish armor.
If this is not the real Don Quixote, John thought, he has certainly made the effort to play the part.
The old man rose from the bed and straightened his nightshirt. He was impossibly thin and wore a thick beard that pointed in two directions. His hair was more gray than black, and more white than gray.
“If the lady will shield her eyes,” Quixote said diplomatically, “I should like to dress.”
Rose obediently stood in the corner, looking over Archimedes’ shoulder as Charles and Jack helped the old knight dress. His clothing and armor were humble but fit him well. Once he was dressed, he again sat on the bed, and Rose sat beside him.
“You said you were waiting for us,” she asked. “Why?”
“Because of the Prophecy, of course,” Quixote replied. “You do know about the Prophecy, do you not?”
“We’ve heard rumors,” said Jack, “but we’ve been a little too pressed for time to ask anyone about specifics.”
“Well then, I shall tell you,” Quixote declared. “After all, it is your Prophecy.”
“Ours?” said John. “How do you know?”
“Because,” replied Quixote, “you are the only ones, other than the Frenchman, who have come through that door in nearly four centuries. He said that I would meet three Caretakers, and it would be my honor to aid them in their quest.”
The Frenchman. Obviously Verne, thought John, whose interest was suddenly piqued. “You called us