The Shadow Dragons - James A. Owen [42]
She held her daughter’s hands for a moment more, then let them go and crossed her hands in front of her. “What else would you ask of me?”
“Who are in the other two crypts?” Charles asked. “If you don’t mind my inquiring.”
“In the crypt on the left is the first of the heroes,” said Guinevere. “The original, the archetype, the one who inspired all those who came after.”
“Hercules?” Jack guessed, only to be slightly embarrassed when the lady responded with a laugh.
“Little mortal, I forget how short a time you have lived, and how little you know of the history of the world. The first hero, who sleeps here next to Arthur, was the one called Gilgamesh.”
“And in the third?” said John, whose curiosity had overwhelmed his need for decorum. He really wanted to know: Who could possibly merit being interred next to Gilgamesh and Arthur Pendragon?
Instead of answering, Guinevere glanced almost imperceptibly at Rose, then shook her head. “It is not for me to say,” she replied. “Not at this time.”
“Guinevere,” Jack said suddenly, “may I ask a boon?”
She looked at him curiously, but could not disguise her amusement at the request. “You may ask.”
“We first came into the Archipelago to protect your daughter,” said Jack. “There are those roaming about, in both this world and in the Summer Country, who seek to harm her. Perhaps even kill her. We don’t know of any place where we might take her that will be as safe as she’ll be here. Could she stay?”
John and Charles both started to say something, but held their tongues as they realized the truth of Jack’s words. If this place was as difficult to enter as it seemed, it really might be the safest place for the girl.
But Guinevere shook her head. “She cannot. This is not a place where the living can long stay. In time she would become as transparent as I. I have lived a full lifetime—more than one, in fact. And so I can accept this ghostly existence. But it is not for her. There is a—”
“Prophecy,” said Charles.
“A destiny,” Guinevere said, giving Charles a stern look, “that she must seek out. She has an extraordinary life ahead of her, and should not dismiss it so easily by staying here with phantasms. And this is only the beginning. You will need her if your worlds are to survive.”
“Why did the Morgaine abandon the Archipelago?” asked John. “Why did they leave?”
“There is nothing gained but futility in weaving a tapestry whose picture changes at a whim,” Guinevere said plainly. “Elements of creation are changing, even now, as we speak. Events in history are being made and unmade with every passing moment.”
“Is there anything you can tell us?” John pleaded. “For your daughter’s sake, if nothing else?”
“A great weapon is being brought to bear against the forces of the Light,” Guinevere said, “which you will not be able to withstand. Only by wielding a weapon of equal power will you have the chance to prevail.”
“How do we find such a weapon?” said Jack.
“Summon the Lady,” the apparition said as she began to shimmer and fade. “The Lady of the Lake. Only she can return what was given. . . .”
Rose leaped forward, but it was too late. Her mother was gone. As the companions watched, the woman in green also faded and vanished, and then, more slowly, the woman in pink, who raised a tentative hand to wave—at Quixote.
“Do you know her?” Charles asked.
Quixote didn’t reply for a long moment, then turned to the Caretaker. “It is not yet my time to be here,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “I must see through this quest and fulfill the Prophecy. And then, perhaps . . .” He glanced back once more, then quickly turned away. “Perhaps I will have earned the right to join her here. But now is not that time.”
All around them, the crystal castle had begun to fade, as if it had been a mirage. The globes vanished, then the walls, and finally the doors. All that remained was the lone figure of the gatekeeper, standing in the expansive meadow.
“Did you find the answers you seek?” he asked the companions as they approached. “Did you speak to her?”
“The fairy with