The Shadow Dragons - James A. Owen [64]
“For another, we believe you three to be the scholars mentioned in the Prophecy. No amount of precaution would prepare us if you chose to cross over to the other side.
“And lastly, it wasn’t until after 1936 that we realized we had to discover some way to identify our own agents—and we’d already used the watches to do so in a limited capacity. So in short, the reason you don’t have watches yet is because you disappeared for seven years, and we hadn’t had the chance to give them to you yet.”
“Whew,” said Charles. “I’m very relieved.”
“So am I,” said Jack. “Everyone here seems fairly civilized, but for an instant I flashed on the distressing notion that I might have to go toe to toe with Hawthorne.”
Bert led the three companions up a winding flight of stairs to a hallway that was so cramped and tiny that they had to crouch to make their way down to the door at the end, which was even smaller.
“Is this where the watches are made?” asked John. “The Watchmaker must be a very compact fellow.”
“This is just our storeroom,” Bert replied as he knelt on the floor. “The Watchmaker is a very secretive creature. Verne has met him more often than I, and the only other thing I know about him is that he’s an old friend of Samaranth.”
“So he’s a Dragon?” asked Jack.
“I asked the same question,” said Bert, “and all he would say was that he had declined the promotion.”
“What are you doing down there?” said Charles. “I don’t think we can even get through that door.”
“It’s a voice-released lock,” Bert explained, leaning low to the small wooden door. “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?” he said in a baritone voice. A pause. Then he added, “The Shadow knows!”
There was a click, and then the wall—not the door, but the entire wall—swung open into a stone-lined room.
“The Shadow knows?” said John.
“I got the idea from some radio dramas I gave to the Cartographer,” said Bert. “It’s a safety feature.”
Inside, the walls were lined with small drawers and shelves laden with silver watches.
“Many of them resemble my own,” Bert said, “but it was an earlier model. Most of the rest look very similar to yours, John.”
“I’d like one of those, if I may,” said Jack.
“And I’d like to have one like yours, Bert,” said Charles. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
Bert selected two of the watches and handed them to the Caretakers. “Remember,” he said as he placed the watches in their open hands, “Believing is seeing.”
“Believe,” John, Jack, and Charles said together.
“Don’t go yet,” Bert said quickly. “I have something else for you.” He handed each of the companions another watch.
“Spares?” asked John. “In case we lose the first one?”
“No,” Charles said, understanding. “These are for our own apprentices, aren’t they?”
“Exactly,” said Bert. “There may be a time when you will want to know, without doubt, that someone will be there to come to your aid—as I have always counted on you. You’ll choose your apprentices when you give them the watch.
“But be very careful about whom you choose to give them to,” he continued. “They are the only means of telling whether or not someone is a true emissary or apprentice of the Caretakers. They cannot be duplicated and cannot be bought or sold—only earned. If they are stolen, they will crumble into dust. If they are sold, they will crumble into dust. If they are used for evil purposes, they will crumble into dust. But if they are cared for, and used properly, they have the potential to become much, much more, as the wearer earns the right to learn of their powers.
“But if nothing else, value them for being what they are—a symbol that the wearer belongs to the most honored and honorable gathering of men and women who have ever drawn breath.
“So,” he said in conclusion, “choose wisely, and choose well, whom you give them to. Your very life may depend on it.”
“So if Kipling is in league with Burton,” John said as they returned to the conservatory, “his watch probably crumbled to dust.”
Bert nodded. “That was all the evidence we needed that the wrong choices were being made, and we had a cuckoo in our