26 - “WHERE ARE YOU, ARTIE KINGFISHER?”

Dred had spent the better part of the day beating on the wooden door of his dark cell, cursing the hoary guards who’d dragged him there and the witch-mother who’d cast him away. For hours, the jailers got a kick out of taunting him and calling him names. It was amazing how fast they’d turned on him. The day before he was the prince of the realm, but today he was little more than a bug.

Eventually they left, offering nothing to eat and only a wooden cup half full of rank-smelling sewer water.

What goes around comes around, Dred thought, remembering how Qwon had been served the same swill at the beginning of her captivity.

He paced. He wanted to get out and help Qwon. He wanted to stop his mother. He even wanted to help the fairy Shallot, and he definitely wanted to thank the other one, Bors.

But more than anything, he wanted to meet his brother.

Dred kicked the cup in frustration and barked, “Where are you, Artie Kingfisher?”

“Did you say ‘Artie Kingfisher’?”

Dred jumped. The unexpected voice had come from down the hall, and it had a strange accent.

One he recognized.

Dred went to the small, barred opening in his door and asked, “You’re the one from—what’s it called—Sweden?”

“Yes.”

“But aren’t you in a dragon’s bubble?” Nothing, including sound, got in or out of a dragon’s bubble.

“I was. But as soon as these blackouts started, it weakened and eventually it went away. Now I’m hog-tied with some pretty tough chains, and I can’t move because there’s one spike on my throat, one on the back of my neck, and another in between my legs.”

“Oh,” Dred said dejectedly.

“But what did you say about Artie Kingfisher?”

Dred paused. Should he tell this wild man from the other side?

Sure. Why not.

“He’s my brother.”

Dred was about to explain everything, but before he could, a loud clang shook the cellblock, accompanied by a string of Swedish curse words. Then came the sound of a door being ripped off its hinges. Before he knew it, the man was standing outside Dred’s cell, shining a flashlight through the small square of iron bars. Dred stepped into the light and was momentarily blinded. “Yep, you’re Artie Kingfisher’s brother,” the man said. The light went out. “I suggest you stand away from the door.”

Dred scrambled to the side. Just as he got himself in place, the door flew into the tiny room, the man entering behind it.

He shone the light at Dred’s face again and said, “My name’s Sami, and I’ve come to rescue you.”

“I’ll say. What happened to those spikes you just told me about?”

“Lied. Sorry.”

“Why are you breaking me out?”

“An invisible guy named Bors came through here last night and told me to wait for Artie’s brother,” the man said. “One way or another he said you’d end up down here, and that you’d look just like Artie. He was right on both counts.”

“So you’ve met my brother?”

“I have.”

“What’s he like?”

“Smart. Tricky. Although I sort of wish I hadn’t met him. Then I’d be back home, feasting on roast venison, instead of standing here, wherever this is.”

“But if you hadn’t followed him, I would have captured him. She would have captured him. So you saved him.”

“And now I’ve saved you. And you’re going to return the favor. Both of you.”

“How?”

“This Bors fellow said you’d be able to take me to Artie, and that Artie could get me back home. He said Artie is very powerful. He said Artie is a king.”

Dred stepped forward. “He’s not a king yet, but we can help him become one.”

Sami held out his arm. “Lead the way, uh . . .”

“Dred.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Dred. Sorry if I busted you up the other day.”

Dred smiled. “Don’t worry. Come on.”

Dred took the flashlight and trotted out of the cell. As they wound their way up a flight of narrow, curving stairs, they heard the sound of returning guards. Sami put a hand on Dred’s shoulder and squeezed past him.

Three guards appeared in single file. The two in the front had maces, and the one in the back carried a small pistol, which was a weapon not usually used in Castel Deorc Wæters.

Sami wasted no time dispatching these men. He broke the maces and ignored the gunman, who was in no position to shoot anyway since he was in the back. In a matter of seconds the soldiers were lying in a dilapidated, moaning heap.

Sami was no joke and also a little scary.

“Nice work,” Dred said, impressed.

“Thanks. Where to now?”

Dred paused. “We need to get the swords before we go to Artie. They were in my mother’s room, but I don’t think she’d risk leaving them out in the open.”

“So she hid them,” Sami suggested.

“Yes.” Dred thought for a few moments, then snapped his fingers. “If she wants to hide them from me too, then I think I know where she put them.” He raced off, and they threaded their way through the Castel, heading toward the passageway that led to Morgaine’s lab.

As they arrived at the secret door, it dawned on Dred that, very soon, he’d be leaving Castel Deorc Wæters—the place in which he’d spent his whole life—for good. Softly he said, “Well, this is it.” Dred moved the stone in the wall, and the hidden door grated open. “Come on.”

As Dred led them through the earthen tunnel, Sami inspected the ground. “Someone was just in here—look.” He paused and pointed at the ground.

“I don’t see anything,” Dred said, looking at where Sami indicated.

“There. See that indentation in the dirt? It’s very faint.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dred lied, still unable to make it out. He continued down the hall, and when they reached the door to the lab he saw that it had been left ajar. He remembered how careful he’d been to close it, so he knew that Sami was right. Morgaine had been there not long before.

“This way,” Dred said, pushing the door open and stepping into the lab.

They walked in silence past all the big glass tubes containing the failed attempts at re-creating King Arthur. Dred tried to ignore these biological abominations as he made his way to the back.

“What is this place?” Sami asked in a stupefied tone.

“This is where I was born,” Dred said with a mouthful of venom. “It’s where Artie was born too.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Morgaine made us. She made us so Artie could retrieve Excalibur. She thought that with the sword she could finally kill Merlin. If the wizard dies, then there is no one alive in the Otherworld—or in your world—who could challenge her.”

“Merlin?” Sami breathed. “Really?”

“Really.” Dred stared into Artie’s crib. There was a canvas bundle lying diagonally across the mattress. “Here they are.”

Dred yanked the fabric, and out tumbled three weapons: Excalibur, The Anguish, and the Peace Sword.

He stuck Excalibur through his belt, sheathed the Peace Sword, and handed The Anguish to Sami. “Think you can handle that?”

Sami turned the strange weapon in his hand, looking at it reverently. “Definitely,” he said.

“Good. Now we need your tracking skills to follow Morgaine and her army. You have any problem riding a bear?”

Sami winked. “Not at all.”