The Shadow Dragons - James A. Owen [81]
“This is very humiliating,” said Fred as he clambered into the basket.
“Better than taking on another one of the witches, or something worse,” said Charles. “Hold on—I’m going to attempt a takeoff.”
He started pedaling and found he had to hold the handlebars tightly to counter the wobble from one of the bent wheels. He had no idea if a damaged wheel on the ground would have any effect on the contraption’s ability to fly.
It didn’t. With a few shaky hops, the bicycle bounded into the air. Pedaling furiously, Charles had cleared the rooftops in a matter of seconds, and soon they were high enough to see all of Abaton.
They were still on the eastern edge of the town, which sprawled all across the hilltops and into the valley below. They could see clusters of flying bicycles, but none near enough to cause immediate alarm.
There were several fires burning throughout the town, and the smoke obscured much of the sky. But it was clearer to the west, and Charles and Fred realized in the same instant that the western edge of the valley was where they needed to go.
There, in the distance, was the unmistakable form of a tower, stark and black against the twilight.
It was the Keep . . . remade as a patchwork
lighthouse . . .
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Construct
The council of war at Tamerlane House looked as if a library of fairy tales had collided with a library of literary biographies, and someone had turned the result into a full-color, three-dimensional frieze.
The king and queen sat opposite Edgar Allan Poe at one end of the table; Charys, the centaur, sat between Mark Twain and Charles Dickens; Rillian, the unicorn mouse, sat on the table in front of Washington Irving; and Stephen, in full Golden Fleece regalia, sat next to his mother across from Geoffrey Chaucer. The Valkyrie Laura Glue, her wings discreetly folded behind her, was standing behind John and Daniel Defoe, and the improbable young Nemo stood next to her; while the Elf King Eledir, the Dwarf leader, Falladay Finn, and several surly fauns stood behind the rest of the Caretakers. It was, to put it simply, a remarkable group.
“Geoff,” John said, still assimilating the recent events, “where should we begin?”
They had already decided to conceal the covert operation Fred and Charles were engaged in. If there was still a traitor among the Caretakers, serving him a play-by-play summary of their own efforts wouldn’t be helpful.
The Last Book was already a secret from almost everyone— and so it would be difficult to express the concern the Caretakers were feeling at its loss.
Thus, once Bert, Artus, and Aven had addressed the group and detailed the events that had occurred on Paralon, the next order of business became the Prophecy itself.
“We believe that the Chancellor has spies within these walls,” said Chaucer, “and so we must prepare for the inevitable. We will be attacked. And I believe that it will happen sooner rather than later.”
“I concur,” said Bert. “To move so in Paralon itself, he must be exceptionally confident.”
“With good reason,” said Artus. “He’s been amassing power and influence for a long while. His allies will be our former allies— and so this will not be a war of armies. It will be a last stand.”
“What Artus is trying to so cheerfully get across,” said Aven, “is what my father was explaining earlier—this is not a new battle, as far as the Prophecy is concerned. This is the endgame.”
“Oh, that was much more cheerful,” said Defoe. “We have the Caretakers and the knight—when do we acquire the weapon the girl is supposed to use against the Winter King? Or Chancellor? Or whatever we’re supposed to call him.”
“The Shadow King,” said Poe. “The Winter King is no more, and the Chancellor is a fiction. We are dealing with a Shadow King, and we will prevail. I have seen it.”
“How do you know this?” asked Eledir.
“Because,” said Poe, “in the future, there are still pistachio nuts.”
“I’m going to assist Quixote and Rose,” said Bert, “in their efforts to acquire the weapon. Artus