13 - CONCERNING A BUNCH OF STUFF, INCLUDING A SURPRISE FOR KYNDER

Kynder was sleeping, slumped over a great oak desk in the Library’s main reading room, when his iPad began to make a noise.

It took him more than a minute to come to and figure out what the sound was, and then another half a minute to unearth the thing from the books stacked haphazardly all around. When he found it he folded back its cover and accepted an incoming call from Artie.

After a few seconds his kids’ faces filled the screen. They were back at the court-in-exile. “Arthur, Kay! I’m so glad to see you guys.”

“Hey, Kynder!” his kids said together.

“How ya doing?” Kay asked, a big smile on her face.

Kynder rubbed the sleep from his eyes and said, “Good. I’ve been worried sick about you two of course, but what’s new?” Over the last few months, it seemed like all Kynder did was worry. “How’d the Gram quest go? Did you find Erik’s sword?”

At that moment it struck Kynder how ridiculous it all sounded. He was used to asking his kids about their exploits in school and sports and video games, but as exciting as those could be, they weren’t life-and-death. They were school and sports and video games. This was something else. Artie and Kay weren’t innocents anymore. They weren’t students or athletes or gamers. They were—Kynder could hardly believe it—real-life heroes who’d been told that nothing less than the fate of the world would be determined by the success of their quests.

“We got Gram all right!” Artie said, swinging the iPad’s camera to Erik, who stood in the background holding his sword proudly.

“Cool! Was it hard?” Kynder asked.

“Eh, not really,” Kay said convincingly. Artie knew he wouldn’t have been able to lie so well. They’d decided not to tell Kynder how close they’d come to getting captured by Morgaine’s forces because they didn’t want to freak him out any more than he already was.

“What about you?” Artie asked. “Any luck figuring out who’s got the Peace Sword?”

“No, but I’m homing in on some good leads, I think,” which was a lie since all Kinder had really been doing was trying to discover why Excalibur wanted Merlin dead. It was the first time in a long time that Kynder could remember lying to his children, and it made him feel awful. Also, the secret that Merlin had told him—that Artie was made by none other than Morgaine—gnawed relentlessly at him. How could he justify keeping this knowledge from his son? It felt so important, if not for Artie’s kingly missions, then at least for Artie’s peace of mind.

Kynder had to tell him. And now was as good a time as any. He swallowed hard and tried to speak.

But nothing came.

Kay leaned forward and said, “You all right, Kynder? You’re turning red.”

Kynder brought his fist to his mouth and coughed several times. When he was done, he said, “Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry.” With his other hand he was clutching Merlin’s magic stone as hard as he could.

Kay gave Kynder a comforting smile. “Take it easy, Dad. We’ll be fine.”

Kynder smiled back. His heart warmed when Kay called him Dad. “I know. I just wish I were there with you guys.”

“Me too, Dad,” Artie said. There it was again. Kay put her arm around her brother and gave him a little hug.

Man, being a parent was tough sometimes.

Artie asked, “Have you learned anything else interesting? Maybe about the witch, or something that might help us get to Qwon?”

“Come across anything about Mom?” Kay wondered. Cassie was always at the back of Kay’s mind, even though she tried hard not to think about her.

Artie squeezed his sister’s knee as Kynder said, “I’m sorry, but no. Nothing on your mom, sweetie. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen anything on Merlin, either, which is pretty strange. Although a ton of this stuff is in languages I don’t know. . . .” Kynder trailed off, rubbing his forehead. It had only been one day, but he looked pooped.

Artie was about to suggest that his dad take a break when two more video chat chimes interrupted him, one from Merlin, the other from Thumb.

Merlin, reporting from The Bunker, had baggy eyes and pale skin. His tattoos looked faded and blurry around the edges. In the corner of his video feed they could make out the top of a can of Mountain Dew.

Kay pointed and said, “Hey, where’d you get that?”

Merlin looked at the can before saying, “Special delivery. I have to say, Kay Kingfisher, that even though this stuff is probably poisonous, it is delicious.”

“Soda hoarder,” Kay said bitterly. “You need to special-delivery some of that over here.”

Merlin grinned and said, “Is that okay with you, Kynder?”

Kynder rolled his eyes at Kay. “Why not.”

“Sweet! Thanks, Kynder,” Kay exclaimed.

Merlin changed the subject, asking about Gram.

“We got it. It wasn’t that hard,” Kay said, lying again.

“Kay Kingfisher, please. Don’t downplay anything. You quested to get one of the Seven. It can’t have been easy,” Merlin scolded mildly.

“Were you guys holding out on me?” Kynder asked.

“Maybe a little,” Artie said sheepishly.

“Arthur, Kay,” Kynder said in his best I’m-your-dad-and-I’m-disappointed-in-you voice, “tell us everything.”

Artie sighed and fessed up, giving all the details. Kynder was not happy that they’d gotten in a huge fight trying to escape from Surmik, but what could he do? Fighting was part of the deal.

When Artie finished, Kynder said, “Well, I’m glad Lance and Bedevere were with you.”

“Yes,” Merlin seconded. “And thank the trees for this Sami!”

“I remember people like him from the old days,” Thumb yelled over his iPad. He was outside in a really windy place. “They were powerful hunters and beast masters. Surely his heritage is what allowed him to cross.”

“Agreed. I remember them too,” Merlin said. “I hope he’s not treated too roughly in Fenland, though I imagine he will be.”

“I think Sami’ll be fine,” Artie replied. “He was crazy strong.”

“Yeah,” Kay added. “I think he can look after himself.”

“We shall see,” Merlin said.

“Merlin, who was that guy Sami saved me from? I’m certain he’s the same guy who took Qwon.”

Merlin held his chin in his hand and said thoughtfully, “Well, the coat of arms you described—the white-and-purple field with a golden double-headed bird—belongs to Mordred, the witch’s son.”

Kay frowned. “The same Mordred who killed Arthur the First with the Peace Sword?” she wondered.

“No,” Kynder answered for Merlin. “The history books say that the original Mordred died a long time ago.”

“Correct,” Merlin said. “This is a new Mordred, just like you are a new Arthur.”

Kynder’s ears perked up at this. Was Merlin trying to tell him something?

Artie shrugged. “Whoever he is, I’m going to take care of him next time. No way he escapes again.”

Thumb said loudly, “If you’re thinking of killing him, I wouldn’t, lad. A good king shows restraint, and Mordred will know much that we do not.”

Merlin nodded gravely. “Yes, he could be quite useful if captured.”

Artie silently conceded that they had a point while Kay asked, “Tommy, where the heck are you? A wind tunnel?”

“Not exactly. I’m flying.” He flipped the camera around so they could see the back of Tiberius’s gigantic head framed by puffy white clouds. Thumb turned the camera back and said, “I’m glad things went well in Sweden, because I’m afraid there’s bad news from Leagon.”

“Lord Tol wouldn’t agree to give us a spy?” Merlin asked anxiously.

“No. He was eager to gift us the spy Bors le Fey. He’s the best. He can go completely invisible, which, needless to say, is a keen skill for a spy to have. The bad news is that Shallot le Fey and The Anguish were taken by the witch as well. Shallot has been imprisoned at the Castel for over a month.”

“Oh, dear!” Merlin exclaimed.

“We’ll have to try and free her too when we go for Qwon,” Thumb yelled over the wind.

Artie said, “I guess on the plus side, we know where two of the Seven Swords are now. Excalibur and The Anguish are together, right?”

“I’d think so,” Merlin said. “Hopefully Bors will be able to find out for certain.”

“Where is this Bors dude?” Kay asked, eager to see an actual fairy.

Thumb held his iPad high over his shoulder. Beyond Tiberius’s long tail was another dragon. A golden one. Riding on its neck was a lanky teenager with pink-and-black hair. Thumb brought his iPad back down and said, “The dragon is called Fallown. Tol loaned us him too. The lord of Leagon is not at all happy with Morgaine.”

“Two dragons!” Artie exclaimed.

“Aye, lad,” Thumb said knowingly. “The plan is to fly high over the witch’s castle and air-drop Bors. We should get there in the next twenty-four hours, leaving us eight days until the new moon. Bors has a scrambled radio texter that he’ll use to send regular updates.”

“Nice! Someone behind enemy lines!” Kay exclaimed.

“That’s right, lass,” Thumb confirmed.

Merlin clasped his hands and said, “I should be able to help you with the airdrop, Mr. Thumb. The magical siphon that will produce the sangrealitic blackouts of Fenland is nearly ready. Another day should be sufficient to get it going. Wait until the dead of night, and Bors will be able to drop into a Fenland completely deprived of electrical—and magical—power. They won’t see him coming at all.”

“Smashing, Merlin,” Thumb said. “We won’t move until Fenland goes dark. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to sign off. The connection on my end is atrocious.”

“Fine, Mr. Thumb,” Merlin said.

“Yeah, fine,” Artie added for good measure. Wasn’t he the one who was supposed to say it was okay? He was the king, after all.

“Cheerio, lads,” Thumb said to Artie and Kay. “Good luck, Kynder,” he added before terminating his feed.

Merlin tented his fingers and asked, “Well, what’s left?”

“Uh, the next of the Seven Swords?” Kay said bluntly. “We only have nine days to go!”

“Of course!” Merlin said. “How ridiculously forgetful of me! The sword app will have more details, but Orgulus is in a very strange place called Mont-Saint-Michel.”

“Yeah,” Kay said. “Didn’t you say something about it being in both our world and the Otherworld at the same time?”

“That’s exactly right, Kay,” Merlin said.

Kynder said, “If you mean the Mont-Saint-Michel in France, I went there before you guys were born. It’s pretty spectacular.”

“That’s the one,” Merlin confirmed.

“And in the Otherworld?” Artie wondered. “What’s it like there?”

“Let’s just say it’s not at all spectacular,” Merlin said seriously.

“Wonderful,” Artie said.

“Wait,” Kynder interjected. “I read a story about Mont-Saint-Michel a couple weeks ago while we were waiting for you, Merlin. Didn’t the first Arthur go there? To defeat someone who was terrorizing the French countryside?”

“Yes,” Merlin said, “but not someone. Something. A giant. A nasty, ravaging, homicidal giant who liked to make his clothing out of the beards of men. Arthur the First cut off his head with Carnwennan. For a while the beast’s offspring surreptitiously lived in the castle in France. But now—”

“Let me guess,” Kay interrupted, “they moved to the Otherworld.”

“Precisely,” Merlin confirmed. “They had to. Giants were banished from your side not long after Arthur the First died.”

Artie said, “No problem. We’ll just stay in the French one to get Orgulus. Should be easy!”

Merlin frowned and said, “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t work that way. Mont-Saint-Michel has a special quality it shares with only a few other places. You see, there aren’t two castles built on two islands in two different worlds. There’s only one castle and one island; it’s just that in the Otherworld it appears one way, and in your world it appears another. But for you, because you are King Arthur, I’m afraid the castle will not be very reliable.”

“What are you trying to say, Merlin?” Artie asked.

“That while there, you will randomly switch back and forth between the two Mont-Saint-Michels without warning.”

“So one second we could be in the French one, with tourists and whatever, and the next we could be in some nasty giant’s castle?” Artie tried to clarify.

“Right, and then back again,” Merlin said. “And then repeat,” he added apologetically.

“Sounds fun,” Kay said sarcastically.

“It may not be, but we have to get Orgulus,” said Artie.

“Right, my boy,” Merlin said proudly. “I think that’s it then. I’m going to sign off. By this time tomorrow Bors should be ready to drop into Fenland and, with any luck, you’ll be on your way back with the legendary rapier. See you, guys. Merlin out!” And before anyone could say good-bye, Merlin was gone.

After a few moments Kynder raised his eyebrows and said, “Be careful, guys.”

“We will,” Kay said.

“Check in with me as soon as you’re back.”

“Will do,” Artie said.

Kynder reached out for his kids. “Okay, bye!”

“Bye!”

“Love you! Bye,” Kynder said one last time, but his kids had already gone.

He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.

What had they gotten into? It was all too much, and as special as his kids were, he couldn’t shake the fact that they were still kids. Wasn’t he supposed to be protecting them? But how could he at this point?

Kynder stood, shook out his limbs, and tried to gather his wits. He knew how to help them. Forget trying to find out why Excalibur wanted Merlin dead. He was going to switch gears and find out anything he could about this Peace Sword, and the person who had it, and Qwon’s kidnapper, Mordred.

Kynder looked around the huge and Byzantine reading room. There were probably a hundred thousand books in the Library that would be useful in some way. He needed months to review them all, not days.

He needed help.

And it was at that exact moment that a bell rang.

At first Kynder thought it was the iPad again. But it wasn’t. It was the doorbell.

Kynder grabbed an electric lantern and made his way into the hallway.

It took him a while to get to the main entrance. He passed door after mysterious door along the Library’s long hallway—the same hallway down which Lavery had led Artie and his knights several weeks back. But Lavery was gone now—Kynder had watched as Merlin angrily shrank the wood elf to the size of a grasshopper and then stepped on him—and Kynder was totally alone.

Finally he reached the entrance. He hung the lantern on a peg and peered through a peephole. Sylvan was regarded as pretty safe, and with Lavery gone the Library was very safe, but Kynder didn’t want to let any monsters in. That would just be foolish.

Luckily for him, the visitor outside the door looked pretty harmless.

To be sure, Kynder pushed a button on a staticky intercom and asked, “Who’s that?”

The little creature said, “Evening, sir. Name’s Clive, sir.”

“What do you want, Clive?”

“Are you Kynder Kingfisher?”

“I am,” Kynder said, a little taken aback.

“I want to help you,” Clive rattled. “My lord Numinae sent me as his emissary. I am at your service.”

Kynder leaned away from the peephole. Could he be so lucky? Help was exactly what he needed. Since he didn’t have the luxury of time, he figured he had to take a chance. He pushed the button again and said, “One second, Clive.”

He grabbed a giant ring of keys, threw the locks, and heaved the door open.

“Hallo, sir,” Clive said in a raspy voice.

“Hello,” Kynder returned, bending low to shake the little man’s hand. “Numinae, you said?”

“Yessir. My lord thought it bad manners to leave you alone in his Library.”

“Well, your timing’s impeccable, I’ll give you that.” Clive had a slight hunchback on his left side, his eyes were uneven, and his wiry beard grew in splotches. His brownish skin was awful—riddled with pockmarks and scars—and while it was hard to tell, Kynder was pretty sure that his hair was dark green. “If you don’t mind my asking, what are you?”

Clive lowered his gaze, letting it come to rest just above Kynder’s knees. “Mostly gnome, some wood dwarf and troll. All unlucky,” he explained while gesturing at his gnarled body.

“Ah, well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Clive.”

“Just Clive, if you please, sir,” he said.

“Not a problem, Clive. And it’s just Kynder for me. The only person who ever called me ‘sir’ was my granddaddy.”

Clive smiled. “Understood, Kynder.”

“Tell me, Clive, what kind of help did Numinae think I needed?”

“Well,” Clive rasped, “he figured you might be needing some help finding things. I’m not sure what you’re looking for, but I do know a fair amount about the Otherworld.”

“Do you read any of the Otherworld languages?”

“Most passably. More than two dozen fluently,” Clive said with a knowing smile.

A wave of relief surged in Kynder’s chest. “And how do I know that I can trust you?” he asked.

Clive winced. “You don’t. I can only give you my word that whatever I help you with will stay between you and me. I won’t even tell the wizard, if you wish it.” Kynder couldn’t fathom why, but he felt a little uneasy at the mention of Merlin. “My lord and I also know that the witch made your son,” the gnome said conspiratorially.

Kynder straightened. “Go on.”

“We know something else that perhaps you don’t. I’d like to share it with you, as a token of good faith.”

“What’s that, Clive?” Kynder liked this little creature.

“The witch—she’s made others too,” Clive said deeply.

That did it. “Please, come in,” Kynder said. “Come in and make yourself at home.”