Clara, peeping at her watch for the hundredth time that day, hurriedly stuck her hand back underneath the blankets and, with a shiver, drew them up under her chin once more. How, she thought, could five minutes last so long? A feeling of despair enveloped her. If she was going to have to stay in this dreadful place for any length of time, she was going to die of boredom. Tears filled her eyes. Only five minutes! They seemed to have taken five hours to pass! Huddling miserably in the little cocoon of warmth under the furs piled on the bed, she gazed unseeingly at the curve of slit windows that circled the room. Where, she thought, was Lord Rothlan? And what about Prince Kalman? She was quite sure they hadn’t forgotten her but she couldn’t understand what was keeping them. She’d been a prisoner for such a long time and yet no one had tried to rescue her! She looked across at Maria, bundled under a similar pile of blankets. She hadn’t left her for a second even although she wasn’t a prisoner. Then there was Count Vassili! He had escaped days ago. How many days ago was it? She couldn’t be sure. Time meant nothing in this cold, grim room where the wind whistled and roared all day.
Maria heard it first and lifted her head slightly at the sound; the distant cry of an eagle. She thought nothing of it but when it sounded again, closer this time, Clara, too, heard it and stiffened, hope rising in her heart. Amgarad! Could it be Amgarad, she wondered? About to throw back the furs, she hesitated, for getting out of bed and rushing to look through one of the slit windows would make her a thousand times colder than if she stayed in bed and did nothing. And the cold was terrible. Should she risk it? But then, knowing her luck, she thought despairingly, it might well turn out to be just another eagle.
A frantic scrabbling at one of the slits, however, sent her dashing across the room, tears streaming down her eager face. It was Amgarad! He had come to rescue her!
Maria followed her, dragging some furs off the bed as she passed. “Here, Clara,” she muttered, draping them over her shoulders, “put some of these round you, for goodness sake!”
“Amgarad,” Clara cried, peering excitedly through the long, narrow slit of the window, “I thought you were never coming! What’s going on? What’s been happening?” she asked as the bird scrabbled to get a foothold on the lip of the windowsill. It was impossible, however, and as his claws slid off, he flapped his wings frantically to stay in the air.
“I’ll tell you later,” he answered. “First of all, tell me … are you wearing your firestone?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Lord Jezail took my magic ring but he didn’t take the firestone. I don’t think he knew I was wearing one.”
“Right! That’s fine. Now, listen! I want you to try and merge with me, Clara.” Amgarad sounded a lot more confident than he felt for the windows were much deeper than he’d thought. “Stretch your arm through and try to touch me!”
Clara tried and it was as he’d feared. Quite impossible! She just couldn’t stretch her arm far enough. His heart sank. She couldn’t reach him.
“I can’t reach you, Amgarad!” she cried hopelessly. “I can’t reach you. The opening’s too deep!”
“Wait a minute,” Maria said, “I’ll lift you up.” She cupped her hands so that Clara could put her foot in them and heaved her up. Again Clara reached through the gap, her cheek pressed hard against the wall as her arm stretched as far as it could go.
Still she couldn’t touch him! Tears welled in her eyes.
Reluctantly, she withdrew her arm and, peering through the opening, could see Amgarad’s eyes looking at her in sheer frustration. She bit her lip. “It’s no good, Amgarad,” she said hopelessly. “My arm’s not long enough! You’ll have to think of something else.”
“Don’t worry, Clara,” the eagle said, hiding his doubts and trying to sound reassuring. “Lord Rothlan and Prince Kalman are both here. We won’t let you down!”
“I know you won’t,” Clara said. “But, Amgarad, tell me what’s been going on. I thought you were never coming! How did you get to Ashgar?”
“We came on magic carpets,” Amgarad replied. “Lord Rothlan and Prince Kalman are at Trollsberg with Count Vassili. Neil’s there as well. And the MacArthur’s army has taken the citadel.”
“Really?” Clara said excitedly. “That’s great news! I hope they captured Lord Jezail!”
“No such luck,” Amgarad admitted. “He’s on his way to the Valley of the Dragons!”
Clara’s face suddenly became serious as she thought of Arthur facing up to Dragonslayer again. “Amgarad,” she said urgently, “you’ve really got to get me out of here. Please, tell Lord Rothlan it’s most important!”
“Don’t worry, Clara,” Amgarad said. “We know just how important it is. We’ll make new plans and I’ll be back soon.”
“Please tell Count Vassili that the major is looking after us,” Maria called. “Tell him we’re being well fed!”
Amgarad nodded his head and with a screeching cry, dropped away from the tower and flew off.
They watched him go, moving from one slit window to another to keep him in sight.
“He’s going to Trollsberg,” Maria said positively, watching as he faded to little more than a speck over the mountains.
Clara drew the furs more closely round her. Not that the cold really mattered any more. She didn’t mind putting up with it now that she knew help was at hand. Amgarad’s visit had raised her spirits and she felt like dancing with joy. She hugged Maria, her eyes alight with excitement, quite sure that Lord Rothlan and Prince Kalman would think up another plan and come to rescue them soon. Indeed, such was her relief that the minute she curled up in bed, she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Maria, however, lay awake and worried. Count Vassili, she knew, would do his best to rescue them but if Clara couldn’t merge with the eagle then he’d have to take the castle by force. And that wouldn’t be easy. Not easy at all …
“Where’s Clara, Amgarad?” Neil asked, his face falling in disappointment when it became obvious that Clara hadn’t merged with the eagle. “What happened? Didn’t you find her?”
He’d been so looking forward to seeing Clara again, jumping to his feet when Amgarad had flown in through the open window and rushing forward to hug her the minute she’d emerged.
“Didn’t she merge with you?” he persisted. “She’s alright, isn’t she?”
Lord Rothlan raised a hand for silence. “Now, Amgarad,” he said calmly. “Tell us what happened.”
Amgarad shifted restlessly and settled his feathers before replying. He wasn’t at all happy at what he’d seen. The size of the castle and its rock-strewn valley had taken his breath away. He looked at his master through bright, black eyes and sighed heavily. “The slit windows round the tower,” he explained, “are a lot deeper and narrower than they look from the outside.”
“And?” queried Prince Kalman.
“Clara was able to get her arm through the slit but,” and here he paused worriedly, “she couldn’t reach me. Her arm just wasn’t long enough.” He saw Neil’s face fall and continued hurriedly. “I told her you were here and that we’d think of something. It gave her hope. She knows we’ll rescue her, but … well, merging is out of the question.”
Neil bit his lip and Count Vassili, turning to rest his arm along the mantelpiece, stared into the fire, his mind working swiftly. This, he thought worriedly, was bad news, indeed, for their whole plan had rested on Clara being able to merge with the eagle. He straightened abruptly and, turning his back to the fire, looked across the room at Major Sallis. They both knew that without a sizeable army it would be virtually impossible to rescue Clara from Dragonsgard.
It was then that Lord Onegin rose to his feet. “I told you when we first met,” he said quietly, “that my reason for sending Vassili to the citadel was to keep an eye on Lord Jezail and do what he could to … er … curb his visions of grandeur. It wasn’t, however, the only reason.”
Everyone looked at him in surprise.
“You see, over the years we, the Onegin, have been … ‘regressing’, I suppose, is the word I should use. We are gradually finding it more and more difficult to keep our human form. Slowly but surely, we are becoming wolves again. Many of my people,” and here he gestured to the forests that covered the surrounding hills, “many are now reduced to living in the forests as animals. We’ve tried to keep it a secret, for if Lord Jezail ever finds out how weak we are … well, he’d march on Trollsberg immediately. That’s why I sent Vassili …”
Seeing the distress on his father’s face, Count Vassili interrupted. “Lord Jezail has a massive library full of books on magic. A fantastic collection,” he admitted.
“Go on,” Prince Kalman urged, puzzled to see where the conversation was leading. Years ago, he’d been in Jezail’s library and knew that Vassili was telling the truth.
The count shrugged his shoulders. “Father sent me there to look for a book; an old book about wolf magic. We couldn’t ask Lord Jezail for it, you understand. He would have been suspicious and asked questions …”
“Wolf Lore and Legends,” Prince Kalman interrupted. “That’s the one you mean, isn’t it?”
Vassili looked at him in amazement. “How … how do you know that?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.
“I saw it there,” Prince Kalman said simply. “Lord Jezail had it in his study. He showed it to my father and me. He told us it was valuable …” his voice drifted to a halt, “and I remember now. I wondered what he meant at the time. He said that he kept it hidden, for it was more valuable to others than it was to him …”
At his words, Lord Onegin bent his head, shielding his eyes with a thin hand. Vassili’s face, however, darkened furiously. “So he knew all along!” he said bitterly, striding up and down in front of the fire. “He knew that I was looking for it! And all the time he had it in his study and was laughing at me!” He almost ground his teeth in rage.
Prince Kalman looked upset. “But … do you think he knew that you were changing back into wolves?”
“I’m sure he did,” Vassili almost spat the words out. “Time was on his side. All he had to do was wait — wait until we were too few to defend our lands!”
There was a dreadful silence.
Lord Onegin stood up. He looked frail and upset. “I hope you understand why we can’t help you,” he said with a sad smile. “We have very few troops … barely enough to defend Trollsberg, far less take Dragonsgard …”
Count Vassili and Major Sallis moved forward to grasp Lord Onegin’s arm as he turned towards the door and together they helped him from the room.
“Well,” Lord Rothlan said grimly as the door closed behind them, “I’m not a vindictive man but I rather think Lord Jezail deserves everything that’s coming to him!”
There was a murmur of agreement. No one had any sympathy for him. Not after what they’d just heard.
“I know it’s a tragic state of affairs,” Prince Kalman said slowly, “but it’s going to make it very difficult to rescue Clara. I was relying on Lord Onegin’s help. I know we can use the MacArthur’s troops but that will take time to arrange.”
It was then that Neil cleared his throat nervously. “Er … about rescuing Clara,” he said hesitantly. “I think I’ve got an idea. I mean, I don’t know if you can do it but …” he looked round with anxious eyes.
“Any ideas are welcome, Neil,” Lord Rothlan said with an encouraging smile.
“You see, I was thinking of Alice in Wonderland,” Neil announced. And, with growing confidence, he told them his idea.