The Shadow Dragons - James A. Owen [84]
“I’m in disguise,” said Charles.
“It works for you,” said Magwich.
“Oh, shut up,” Charles fumed. “How were you able to leave Avalon?”
In answer, Magwich pointed to the bags strapped to his feet. “In point of fact, I haven’t left, not really. These bags are full of beach sand from the island. That means I can go anywhere I want to. I’m finally free of that stupid, empty, lonely island!”
“Your job wasn’t done, Maggot,” said Charles. “You abandoned your post.”
“What post?” Magwich retorted. “After the Morgaine left, there was nothing left there to guard.”
“You’re wrong,” said Fred. “There was a lot left.”
“What is he chattering on about?” asked Magwich.
“Where’s the spear?” Charles asked. “The spear that has been carried by all the other Green Knights in history?”
Magwich’s jaw dropped open, and his eyes grew wide. “I—I couldn’t say,” he finally answered. “I must have lost it.”
“Lost it, or sold it?”
“I wouldn’t sell it!” Magwich exclaimed. “Burton would have had my head if I’d—”
Too late he realized his slip.
“He isn’t too bright, is he?” asked Fred.
“That’s a major understatement,” said Charles. He grabbed Magwich by the breastplate and pulled him close. “Listen, Maggot,” he said in as threatening a tone as he could manage, “we need to know what’s going on here. We need to know what Burton’s doing with the tower, and with the spear. And we need to know right now.”
“You can’t scare me!” Magwich retorted. “I have rights, you know. And when the Chancellor finds out what you’ve done, there’ll be consequences, I promise you!”
“The Chancellor will never know,” said Charles, drawing him closer. “Do you know what happened to the last Green Knight who tried to leave Avalon?”
Magwich gulped and swallowed hard, shaking his head.
“He set foot on a boat,” said Charles, “and his arms and legs caught fire. And then his chest exploded.”
Magwich’s eyes were huge.
“Then,” Charles went on, “insects began to nest in his chest cavity, where they laid eggs. Eventually the eggs hatched into worms—and the worms burrowed their way up his neck and into his head, and he got to watch the entire time. And the last thing he saw before he perished in terrible agony was the worms eating into his eyeballs. That’s what happened to him.”
“I—I don’t believe you!” Magwich stammered.
“It doesn’t matter if you believe me,” Charles said with finality, “but if you don’t tell us what we want to know, we’re going to take those bags off your feet, and you can find out the truth for yourself.”
Magwich paused to consider whether he was serious, and on cue, Fred reached out with a sharp claw and snicked open one of the straps that held the bags in place.
“All right, all right!” Magwich yelled. “I’ll tell you everything!”
And he did. It took only a few minutes, but when he was through, all the blood had drained out of Charles’s face.
“We’ve got to get back right now,” he said to Fred. “This is too important to wait.”
Fred tied Magwich’s hands and legs and gagged him. They threw him over the handlebars of the bicycle and tied him down; then Fred climbed into the basket as Charles began to pedal.
It was much harder to take off with the added weight, but Charles did not want to risk leaving Magwich behind. It took several tries, but finally they became airborne. Once they were at altitude, it was much easier to navigate the bicycle, and they set course for the Trump portal that lay past the eastern gate of Abaton.
“Uh-oh,” Fred said as he peered through the weave of the basket. “There’s trouble a’ coming’.”
Flying straight toward them were three witches, also on bicycles.
“I hope the disguise works,” said Charles.
“So do I,” said Fred. “I don’t have any more tapioca.”
The witches stopped in midair and greeted Charles. “Hello, sister,” said the first witch. She pointed at Magwich. “What have you got there?”
“Uh, lunch,” Charles said in a terrible falsetto.
“Lunch?” said the second witch. “He’s a Green Man. You can’t eat a Green Man, even in Abaton.”
“We’re going